Robert the Bruce （narrator）： Many years later， Edward the Longshanks， King of England， supervised the wedding of his eldest son， who would succeed him to the throne.  As bride for his son，Longshanks had chosen the daughter of his rival， the King of France. It was widely whispered that for the princess to conceive，Longshanks would have to do the honors himself.  That may have been what he had in mind all along.

    （In Longshank's Council Chamber）

    Longshanks： Scotland； my land.  The French will grovel to anyone with strength， but how will they believe our strength when we cannot rule the whole of our own island？

    （Princess Isabella enters the chamber）

    Longshanks： （To Princess Isabella） Where is my son？

    Isabella： Your pardon， my Lord.  He asked me to come in his stead.

    Longshanks： I sent for him and he sends you？

    Isabella： Shall I leave， my Lord？

    Longshanks： If he wants his Queen to rule when I am gone， then by all means stay， and learn how.  Please.

    Longshanks： Nobles.  Nobles are the key to the door of Scotland. Grant our nobles lands in the north.  Give their nobles estates here in England， and make them too greedy to oppose us.

    Advisor： But sire， our nobles will be reluctant to uproot.  New lands mean new taxes， and they are already taxed for the war in France.

    Longshanks： Are they？  Are they？  The trouble with Scotland is that it's full of Scots. （Everyone laughs except Princess Isabella）  Perhaps the time

    has come to reinstitute an old custom. Grant them prima noctes： first

    night.  When any common girl inhabiting their lands is married， our nobles

    shall have sexual rights to her on the night of her wedding.  If we can't

    get them out， we'll breed them out.  That should fetch just the kind of

    lords we want to Scotland， taxes or no taxes.

    Advisor： A most excellent idea， sire.

    Longshanks： Is it？

    __________________________________________________________

    Robert the Bruce （narrator）： Now in Edinburgh， gathered the council of Scottish nobles.  Among these was Robert， the 17th Earl of Bruce， the leading contender for the crown of Scotland.

    Robert the Bruce： I hear that Longshanks has granted prima noctes.

    Craig： Clearly meant to draw more of his supporters here.

    Robert the Bruce： My father believes that we must lull Longshanks into confidence by neither supporting his decree nor opposing it.

    Craig： A wise plan.  And how is your father？  We missed him at the council.

    Robert the Bruce： Ah. His affairs in France keep him long overdue，

    （Looks up to find hind his father on top of the castle） but he sends

    his greetings.  And he says that I speak for all the Bruces， and for

    Scotland. __________________________________________________________

    （William， now a man， returns to his boyhood home and smells the air.）

    __________________________________________________________

    （wedding celebration； music playing）

    （A large man steps in front of William and drops a large rock at his feet）

    Man： Ah， it's all over now.

    William： You dropped your rock. （To the man standing on the other side

    of the rock.）

    Hamish： Test of manhood.

    William： You win.

    Hamish： Call it a test of soldiery， then.  The English won't let us train with weapons， so we train with stones.

    William： Well， a test of a soldier is not in his arm， it's here （mind）。

    Hamish： No， it's here （arm）。

    （Hamish hits William）

    William： Hamish？

    Hamish： Mm-hmm. __________________________________________________________

    （drumming， rock throwing contest）

    （William throws the large rock first， the crowd approves.）

    Campbell： Here you go， son.  Show him how.  Come on！ （Hamish

    throws the rock further.） Haha， my boy！

    William： That's a good throw.

    Hamish： Aye. Aye， it was.

    William： I was wondering if you could do that when it matters.  As it，as is matters in battle.  Could you crush a man with that throw？

    Hamish： I could crush you， like a worm.

    William： You could？

    Hamish： Aye.

    William： Well then do it. （Asking the crowd） Would you like to see

    him crush me like a worm？

    （William walks to the spot where Hamish's last throw landed， picking

    up an egg sized rock on the way.）

    Crowd： Aye！

    William： Come do it.

    Hamish： You'll move.

    William： I will not.

    Campbell： （Handing Hamish a large rock） He'll move. Come on there， boy.

    （Hamish misses）

    Man： Well done.

    （William hits Hamish in the forehead with the small rock）

    Campbell： Fine display， young Wallace.

    William： You alright？  You look a wee bit shaky.

    Hamish： I should have remembered the rocks.

    William： Aye， you should have.  Get up you big heap.  It's good to see you again.

    Hamish： Aye， welcome home.  Oh， me head.

    William： Well， you should have moved.

    （William walks up to Murron and is about to ask her to dance ……）

    Girl： William， will you dance with me？

    William： Of course I will.

    （English ride in on horses）

    Lord Bottoms： I have come to claim the right of prima noctes.  As lord of these lands， I will bless this marriage by taking the bride into my bed on the first night of her union.

    Scottish man： O' By God， you will not！

    （Morrison swings at an English soldier. English soldiers hold him with

    knives to his throat.）

    Lord Bottoms： It is my noble right.

    （The bride gently moves the knife from her husband's throat with

    her hand and then whispers something and kisses him.  Then

    the English soldiers ride off with her.）

    Smythe （English soldier）： Ha ha. Ha ha. __________________________________________________________

    （Later， William stands in his former house while the rain drizzles

    through gaping holes in the thatched roof.）

    __________________________________________________________

    （William rides to the MacClannough residence）

    William： Good evening， sir.

    MacClannough： Ah， young Wallace.  Grand soft evening， huh？

    William： Aye， 'tis that.  I was wondering if I might have a word with your daughter.

    MacClannough： What do you want to have a word with her about？

    William： Well， ah， Murron， would you like to come and ride with me on this fine evening？

    Mrs. MacClannough： In this？  You're out of your mind.

    William： Oh， it's good Scottish weather， madam.  The rain is fallin' straight down， well slightly to the side like.

    Mrs. MacClannough： She cannot go with you.

    William： No？

    Mrs. MacClannough： No the now， anyway.

    William： No the now？

    MacClannough： No the now.  We'll see you later.

    Murron： 'O the weather's just fine.  It's hardly raining.

    （Murron runs from the house and joins William on his horse.）

    Mrs. MacClannough： Did you no hear what I said？  Now get——Murron.（To husband） It's you she takes after. __________________________________________________________

    （William and Murron ride off to the top of the mountain）

    William： How did you know me after so long？

    Murron： Why， I didn't.

    William： No？

    Murron： It's just that I saw you staring at me and I didn't know who you were.

    William： I'm sorry， I suppose I was.  Are you in the habit of riding off in the rain with strangers？

    Murron： It was the best way to make you leave.

    William： Well， if I can ever work up the courage to ask you again， I'll send you a written warning first.

    Murron： 'O it wouldn't do you much good.  I can't read.

    William： Can you not？

    Murron： No.

    William： Well that's something we shall have to remedy， isn't it.

    Murron： You're going to teach me to read， then？

    William： Ah， if you like.

    Murron： Aye.

    William： In what language？

    Murron： Ah， you're showing off now.

    William： That's right.  Are you impressed yet？

    Murron： No.  Why should I be？

    William： （in French） Yes.  Because every single day I thought about you.

    Murron： Do that standing on your head and I'll be impressed.

    William： My kilt will fly up but I'll try.

    Murron： You certainly didn't learn any manners on your travels.

    William： I'm afraid the Romans have far worse manners than I.

    Murron： You've been to Rome？

    William： Aye， my uncle took me on a pilgrimage.

    Murron： What was it like？

    William： （in French） Not nearly as beautiful as you.

    Murron： What does that mean？

    William： Beautiful.  But I belong here.