Sharpe quotes

[empties wine bottle into his flagon, shakes it] Bloody hell!

[sets a new bottle down in front of him]

[stands, grabs Harper by the shoulders] Bloody hell! Patrick! Not you!

Aye, it's me.

Damn me, ye came! Ye came!

Aye, I did come, I did.

Sit down, Pat, sit down. Make room for Sergeant-Major Harper.

[Sits, Harris and Hagman make room for him] Actually, it's just Patrick Harper. Mister Patrick Harper, Horse-master to the gentry.

What, not re-enlisting?

I am not. The King's had more than his shilling out of me, so he has.

Harris?

Hm?

What's your first name?

For all these years I've been fighting the French, I've become sick and bloody tired of that shit-music they play.

[laughs]

I am, so I am!

[rallying the South Essex] I'm your colours! I am!

Wellesley

Your Regiment, Sharpe!

Prince of... South Essex! ADVANCE!

South Essex Charge!

Wellesley

Go on, Sharpe! They won't stand!

Wellington

What's this nonsense I hear? You've turned swords to plowshares and become a farmer in France?

Aye, s'true enough, your Grace.

Wellington

Suits you, this life?

Well, no buggers trying to shoot me the live long day, so aye, suits me.

That would be stealing, sahib! How am I to be a good British soldier if you make me into a thief again?

It ain't thieving when you're hungry, Davi. First thing any soldier learns.

I thought you were dead, Pat!

I can't be watching your arse if I'm dead, now can I?

Simmerson

You should be wary of this one, McRae. He thinks because Wellington raised him up from the sewer that it somehow makes him a gentleman. Don't know your place, do you, Sharpie?

Maybe not, but I know how to stand before a French column. I know how to face fire without soiling my breeches and turning tail.

You got your throne. How does it feel, your Majesty?

Oh, God almighty. Out of the frying pan...

It's just not our bloody night, Pat.

Oh, come on now, lads. Three to one? That's not fair odds, now is it?

Ah, they don't want fair odds though, do they? Eh, Shadrach? It's a bloody contest. Come on, Pat. Come on, let's show these buggers.

There's me thinking, to want all our blood for something more than making rich men richer.

What do you reckon then, Pat? This Khande Rao can be taken?

Well he has a reputation of being a real monster.

[comes up from behind a tent] If he is a monster, Mr. Harper, then he's one of British making.

How's that, Captain?

The Company have only maintained the peace here, by keeping the princes at each other's throats. Khande Rao's father: he feared his neighbours more than he hated the British. And so it was your country that kept him supplied with arms.

That sounds just like the English: getting someone else to do its dirty work!

The son is not the father, however: Khande Rao wants you out of our country; once and for all. It is a view with which I cannot say I do not have some sympathy.

So why are you fighting with us?

Khande Rao is... a sworn enemy of my blood. And that makes you my enemy's enemy, and therefore, a necessary evil. Good day to you both.

I don't think I like the sound of that. A necessary evil...

Were we ever been else?

Oh. And there was me thinking we were always on the side of the angels.

Simmerson

Sharpe! I see time has done nothing to improve a want of etiquette in you. Still the same, whore-mongering, gutter trash of memory!

Aye, and you're still the same cruel, flogging bastard!

Simmerson

Cruel, sir? I calls it discipline! Sepoys they may be. But this is a Christian army and I will see things done the Christian way!

[Sarcastically] Oh, ay, there's no doubt about that.

Where are you going?

After the bastards that did this, where do you think?