Arthur Pendragon

— The King of Camelot. You will fetch a handsome price. Alive or dead. Any last requests?
— Let my servant go. He doesn't deserve to die like this.
— If you're going to kill him, you'll have to kill me first.
— Merlin! Step aside.
— You know I never do as I'm told.

— This mission, sire...
— ...is too dangerous, so I shouldn't go.
— Yeah... You're thinking the same thing?
— No. I'm thinking that's exactly what you always say, but here I am, two legs, two arms, my own teeth.

— I am not my father.
— No.
— Then why do they judge me so?
— I'm not sure I'm the person to ask.
— I am asking you, Merlin, man to man.
— Well, perhaps they feel you're worthy enough to BE judged.
— What do you mean by that?
— Judgment is wasted on a man who won't listen.
— You think I should take them seriously.
— I think you already have.

— I can't find my comb.
— Have you looked?
— Everywhere.
— Must've been under something.
— Your nose?
— You just have this way of seeing things.
— Yes, two of them. They're called eyes.

— He's not in danger. He's seeing a girl.
— Merlin?
— Gaius, I'm sorry, but there is no reason to worry.
— Except for the poor girl.

— How can a serving girl understand what it means to be queen?
— Guinevere is wise and strong, and I trust her more than anyone.
— And that is your weakness. You put too much trust in other people. You and you alone must rule Camelot.
— I would rather not rule at all than rule alone.

— Arthur! Stop. Think about what you’re doing. What good will this achieve? How many times have you talked about uniting this land? Will killing this man make that dream any closer?
— He is right. This is no answer.
— Finish it. Finish it and be done.
— And what then? Your people will seek they’re revenge. A war without an end.
— There is no other way.
— There is another way. In return for your life, you must restore Rodor to the throne of Nemeth.
— Even if I agreed, it solves nothing. What about us, Pendragon?
— A truce. Binding our kingdoms to peace.
— Never.
— Is this what you want? To die here, now know you condemn this land to war. Odin, you cannot let it end like this. The blood will never wash off.
— You killed my son!
— You killed my father! We have both lost much at the others hand. Let us loose no more, I am offering you the chance to end this. Take it. Take it!
— So be it. A truce it is.

— Merlin! This is one of the two…possibly three moments in my life where I’ve actually been glad to see you.
— That’s my thoughts exactly, Sire. How’re you feeling?
— Like death. Well, death warmed up, at least.
— I can imagine.
— Hm. Well it seems like we’ve both been through something of an ordeal.
— It wasn’t so bad, really. Once you get use to the eternal night and the rats, and the moldy pillows, living with a bucket of your own…
— Merlin. I’m sorry about what happened to you. Truly. Soon as I heard, I told them it couldn’t have been you who poisoned me.

— Where is he?
— He's gone out in pursuit of a young agrimonia. A noble but shy plant, not easy to find. It could take him all day.
— All day?!
— It is invaluable, sire. It's properties open up both the liver and the spleen.
— He's in the tavern, isn't he?
— No, sire!
— Well, when he's finished opening up his liver and his spleen, tell him he has exactly one hour to sober up and get to my chambers.

— So be it, but understand this, Odin: you kill me and you'll have all of Camelot to answer to.
— Camelot is nothing without its king.
— Then you don't know my knights. They will hunt you, and they will find you, and they will not rest until they're done.

If you trust no one you'll always live in fear. Your hatred came from fear, not strength.

— Are you feeling all right, Merlin?
— Quite, My Lord.
— I find more and more your face resembles the back end of a cat.