The Missionary

The Bishop:
I tried to teach the rudiments of rugby football. But it wasn't really their sort of thing. They hang on to the ball for too long. Weeks, sometimes.

Ada:
Most o' my boys just want company... a bit o' cheerin' up. I'm like a mother to 'em! Only they can't f*** their mothers so they come 'ere.

[On her husband's dying]

Lady Fermleigh:
It was really a breach of manners. He's never done it before.

Slatterthwaite:
You can't miss it, sir. Turn right out of the station. Or left.

Lord Ames:
I once had a chap before me who'd been caught stealing from the mess. I ordered every alternate fingernail to be removed, and you know, I still get a card from him every Christmas.

Lord Ames:
You see, what I think is wrong with the country today is that there aren't enough people chained up.

[Writing to The Times on how to treat the poor]

Lord Ames:
Are there two "l"s in "disembowelment"?

Deborah Fitzbanks:
Everyone was asking after you. They're all terribly excited about the wedding.

Reverend Fortescue:
Wedding?

Deborah Fitzbanks:
OUR wedding!

Reverend Fortescue:
Oh, yes... Yes.

Reverend Fortescue:
I shall be looking after women... Women who are in... moral trouble.

Deborah Fitzbanks:
Liars?

Reverend Fortescue:
Deborah, do you know what is meant by "fallen women"?

Deborah Fitzbanks:
Women who have hurt their knees.

Reverend Fortescue:
I'm going to remain a missionary.

Deborah Fitzbanks:
But I thought...

Reverend Fortescue:
A missionary IN ENGLAND!

Deborah Fitzbanks:
But everyone's ENGLISH in England.

Reverend Fortescue:
The locals had never seen a bicycle before. They used to call me "The Man on the Starving Horse."

Reverend Fortescue:
Vicki...

Violet:
Violet.

Reverend Fortescue:
Er, Violet. Would you and Ruby...

Rosie:
Rosie.

Reverend Fortescue:
Rosie. Go and clean upstairs, and get some help from the three girls in my bed.

[about Slatterthwaite]

Lord Ames:
He really is the most disastrous butler. Can't we get rid of him?

Lady Isabel Ames:
Of course we can't. He's been here for 25 years.

Lord Ames:
I don't know why we ever got rid of Marcheson.

Lady Isabel Ames:
You know perfectly well why we got rid of Marcheson.

Lord Ames:
That was only a bit of harmless fun.

Lady Isabel Ames:
Not for the parents.

Lady Isabel Ames:
Fetch the coaches, will you?

Corbett:
Oh, I love it when you give me orders.

Lady Isabel Ames:
[annoyed] NOW!

Reverend Fortescue:
Isabel?

Lady Isabel Ames:
Charles! What are you doing here?

Reverend Fortescue:
I've come to stop you.

Lady Isabel Ames:
How dare you? How dare you interfere with my plans?

Reverend Fortescue:
You mustn't kill him.

Lady Isabel Ames:
Why not? What business is it of yours, interfering priest?

Reverend Fortescue:
You could hang for it.

Lady Isabel Ames:
No one's going to hang. It's a simple shooting accident.

Reverend Fortescue:
Isabel, this is England in 1906. People don't go around killing each other just because they don't get on!

Lady Isabel Ames:
No, they just endure don't they? Stiff upper lip, that's the British way. I'm sure it wasn't like that in Africa.

Reverend Fortescue:
Africa's primitive!

Lady Isabel Ames:
Oh, yes. God save us from being primitive.

Reverend Fortescue:
There's not so much wrong with the British way, for your class especially.

Lady Isabel Ames:
My class? This is not my class, Charles.

Reverend Fortescue:
You know what I mean.

Lady Isabel Ames:
You don't know what *I* mean.

[Adopts a changed accent and demeanor]

Lady Isabel Ames:
You alone, sir? Want some company? Clean and cheap?

[She returns to normal, Fortescue is speechless]

Lady Isabel Ames:
Yes. I've disguised it well, haven't I? I had to. The honest tart never gets anywhere. No, they're not my bloody class, thank God!

[Attempting to talk her out of a dangerous plan]

Reverend Fortescue:
Isabel, I...

Lady Isabel Ames:
Please, don't. I don't want to be understood. [pauses] Not now.

Reverend Fortescue:
What are you going to do? What are you going to gain from this?

[Isabel begins to say something, tearfully sighs, and walks out the door]

[Isabel has been injured]

Reverend Fortescue:
I'm sorry. Dear, God, I'm so sorry.

Lady Isabel Ames:
You were only trying to do the decent thing.

[Fortescue begins to drape his coat around her]

Lady Isabel Ames:
No, don't Charles.

[He continues anyway]

Lady Isabel Ames:
That's the trouble with you. You're far too decent.

Lady Isabel Ames:
I got it all wrong, didn't I?

Reverend Fortescue:
What do you mean?

Lady Isabel Ames:
I tried to convert the missionary.