Mrs. Cadogan-Lyon: [Greeting a lady in waiting for the Queen of Naples] Good morning, your ladyship. My daughter, her ladyship, is still resting. And how is Her Majesty's sore throat? You know the best thing for a sore throat is to wrap a woolen sock around your neck before bed.
Sir William Hamilton: Good morning, your ladyship.
[to Emma's mother]
Sir William Hamilton: Is Emma still asleep?
Mrs. Cadogan-Lyon: She is asleep. In my village, a husband just turns round in bed to look for himself.
Sir William Hamilton: Yes, and the Queen of Naples does not wear woolen socks!

Emma: ...and I forgot London, and the old ways. I was young. I healed quickly. I learned French and Italian, music and dancing. And one day, I had more than I ever dreamed of. I became his wife... Emma, Lady Hamilton.

Emma: [shocked after seeing Lord Nelson's wounds] They told us of your victories but not of the price you paid!

Emma: What are those bells?
Lord Horatio Nelson: Have you forgotten what night this is? Last of 1799; eight bells for the old year, and eight for the new. Happy New Year, darling.
Emma: Happy New Year.
Lord Horatio Nelson: The dawn of a new century.
Emma: 1800. How strange it sounds.
Lord Horatio Nelson: What a century it's been: Marlborough rode to war, and Washington crossed the Delaware. Louis XVI, and Marie Antoinette. The last of the Stuarts. Peter the Great. Voltaire. Clive of India. Bonaparte...
Emma: ...Nelson.