[Knowing that his ship has only four guns]
Hornblower:
How many guns does the "Oriental" have, Mr. Hunter.
M'Man Hunter:
Forty-eight, sir.
Hornblower:
Well, we'll certainly give them a run for their money, won't we Mr. Styles?
Styles:
Certainly will sir. Take them at least a minute to sink us.
[Horatio stopped Hunter from shooting the French]
Hunter:
We're here to fight them aren't we?
Hornblower:
No, Mr. Hunter, we're here to defeat them.
Hornblower:
[smiling] He wants to give us his assistance. God damn him to hell!
Styles:
It's King George, frog-face!
Matthews:
Ah, well he is lucky, our Mister Hornblower.
Capt. Pellew:
Yes, England, boy. A big, damp, foggy island nor-noreast of Ushant. Think you can find it?
M'Man Hunter:
Main dish'll probably be monkey.
Hornblower:
Monkey?
M'Man Hunter:
Mmm. Um, rock ape. And monkey you mince with a sort of a... chopping motion.
Hornblower:
Monkey; mince, chopping motion.
Sir Hew Dalrymple:
Gentlemen, my chef is of a combustible temperament. Let us not keep him waiting.
Capt. Pellew:
I hear the, uh, statuary in Florence is very fine, Your Grace. Somewhat naked, but very fine indeed.
Hornblower:
Don't froth at the mouth, Styles. You've seen a woman before, man.
Styles:
Not in six bloody months I haven't.
Don Massaredo:
So long as you do not try to murder me in my bed, sir, I wish you every luck in your attempt.
Etienne de Vergasse:
So, Mister Hornblower, her grace tells me that you were careless enough as to sail your ship straight into the middle of the Spanish fleet.
Don Massaredo:
It is the story of a man who jousts with windmills. Her grace thought that you would understand him.复制复制成功复制失败，请手动复制
