Napoleon Bonaparte:
Cross the river. Tomorrow we will dry our boots in Brussels.

Michel Ney:
If it's God's willing sire.

Napoleon Bonaparte:
God? God has nothing to do about it.

Ludwig XIII:
I know you loved this man.

Michel Ney:
I did, once. But I promise your that I will bring him back to Paris in an iron cage.

Ludwig XIII:
They always dramatise, these soldiers. In an iron cage. No one has asked for that.

Duke of Wellington:
The whole line will advance.

Lord Uxbridge:
In which direction your grace?

Duke of Wellington:
Why, straight ahead to be sure.

Duke of Wellington:
Next to a battle lost, the saddest thing is a battle won.

Napoleon Bonaparte:
Never interrupt your enemy while he's making a mistake. That's bad manners.

Lord Uxbridge:
By God, Sir. I've lost my leg.

Duke of Wellington:
By God, Sir. So you have.

Field Marshal Gebhard von Blucher:
Raise high the black flags, my children. No prisoners. No pity. I will shoot any man I see with pity in him.

Napoleon Bonaparte:
Has Wellington nothing to offer me but these Amazons?

William De Lancey:
Shall I shut them up, Sir?

Duke of Wellington:
No, no, indulge it . Anything that wastes time is good. Indulge it. Normally I don't like cheering, but there's always a time to cut cards with the Devil.

Duke of Wellington:
I like the cut of your men, Gordon.

Lord Gordon:
Damn forward fellows with a bayonet, Wellington. Raised 'em from me own acres on a lemon a month. There's some there could call me more than colonel, eh?

Duke of Wellington:
Picton, Ballen's brigade has broken. Kindly fill the gap, if you please.

General Sir Thomas Picton:
Gordon, take your bastards forward. I'll bring up the rest of the brigade.

Lord Gordon:
Don't hurry yourself, Pic. My lads will hold them, aye, 'til you come.

General Sir Thomas Picton:
Get forward, damn your eyes!

Sir William Ponsonby:
The French killed my father, you know.

Lord Uxbridge:
Really?

Sir William Ponsonby:
Yes, his horse got caught is a bog and the beast gave up on him. Seven damn lancers had him like a tiger in a pit. Damn bad luck, eh, Uxbridge?

Lord Uxbridge:
Very bad luck, Ponsonby.

Sarah:
MaMa! Iggy has promised to bring me a cuirrasier's helmet to use as a sewing basket; without blood, of course.

Duchess of Richmond:
And one for me, young man - with the blood.

Sir William Ponsonby:
Where do you plan to stick your Frenchman, Hay?

Lord Richard Hay:
I thought under the right armpit, sir.

Sarah:
See? He has it all planned.

General Sir Thomas Picton:
When you meet a cuirrasier beam to beam, you'll be lucky to escape with your life; much less his helmet. Boy, you'll learn the art of fighting from the French.

Napoleon:
Those men on grey horses are terrifying.

Marshal Soult:
They are the noblest cavalry in Europe; and the worst led.

Napoleon:
That may be; that may be, but we will match them with our lancers.

Duke of Wellington:
Well, that opens the ball.

Duke of Wellington:
They're coming at us in the same old style.

General Sir Thomas Picton:
Well, then we shall meet them in the same old style.

Duchess of Richmond:
They're the soul of England.

Duke of Wellington:
Scum. Nothing but gutter trash and scum. Gin is the stuff of their patriotism.

Duchess of Richmond:
And yet, you expect them to fight for you?

Duke of Wellington:
Um-hum.

Duchess of Richmond:
And, die?

Duke of Wellington:
Um-hum.

Duchess of Richmond:
I dare say not even Bonaparte would expect that.

Duke of Wellington:
Oh, Bonaparte's no gentleman.

Duchess of Richmond:
Why, Arthur! What an Englishman you are.

Duke of Wellington:
On the battlefield his hat is worth fifty thousand men; but, he is no gentleman.

Napoleon Bonaparte:
They've declared war on me! Not on France; but on me personally. I'll discuss peace; I'll discuss peace over Wellington's dead body! *That* will be my peace table!

Napoleon Bonaparte:
Le Bedoyere, do you have any children?

Le Bedoyere:
Yes, sire; one son, very young, hardly as tall as your boot.

Napoleon Bonaparte:
Would you want him with you here today?

Le Bedoyere:
Yes, sire.

Napoleon Bonaparte:
Whatever for?

Le Bedoyere:
Why, to see you, sire.

Napoleon Bonaparte:
To see me? I would not want my son with me today, not to 'see me'.

Napoleon Bonaparte:
What will history say of me, Le Bedoyere?

Le Bedoyere:
History will say that you stretched the limits of glory, sire.

Napoleon Bonaparte:
'Stretched the limits of glory'; is that all I have to leave to my son, the 'limits of glory'?

William De Lancey:
Sir! Napoleon has moved against out left! We should move the 92nd down to meet him!

Duke of Wellington:
What the master seems to do and what he intends are as different as white knight to black bishop. Tell all comanders to remain in place.

William De Lancey:
But, sir...

Duke of Wellington:
Do as you are told, sir! I'll not run around like a chicken without a head!