One man, my lord, would not endure such tyranny. That's why you hounded him. That's why you hate him, hate his friends. And that's why you're beaten. Fletcher Christian's still free. Christian lost, too, my lord. God knows he's judged himself more harshly than you could judge him. I say to his father, 'He was my friend. No finer man ever lived.' I don't try to justify his crime, his mutiny, but I condemn the tyranny that drove him to it. I don't speak here for myself alone or for these men you condemn. I speak in their names, in Fletcher Christian's name, for all men at sea. These men don't ask for comfort. They don't ask for safety. If they could speak to you they'd say, 'Let us choose to do our duty willingly, not the choice of a slave, but the choice of free Englishmen.' They ask only the freedom that England expects for every man. If one man among you believe that - one man - he could command the fleets of England. He could sweep the seas for England. If he called his men to their duty not by flaying their backs, but by lifting their hearts, their... That's all.