[###]
[CROWD CHEERING]
ROLAND: Should we help him?
He has to be in the lists in two minutes. Two minutes or forfeit.
Lend us those.
Right. Left. Thank you.
[FLIES BUZZING]
Dead. Eh?
Three scores to none after two lances.
All Sir Ector needs to do is not fall off his horse and we've won.
Oh.
He's dead.
What do you mean, dead? His life's spark is smothered in shite.
His spirit is gone but his stench remains.
Does that answer your question? No, no, no.
No, he sleeps. Rouse him.
We're minutes from victory. I haven't eaten in three days!
None of us have, Wat!
We need to fetch a priest. No, he's not dead!
You wake up! Come on!
Come on!
You manky git!
Roland.
Squire, Sir Ector must report at once or forfeit the match.
He's... He's on his way.
WAT: I haven't eaten in three days!
Three days! What did you eat, mate?!
If you wasn't dead, I would kill you!
I'll ride in his place.
Strip his armor. I'm riding in his place.
Wat, stop kicking him! Calm down. I'm riding in his place. Help me, please.
What's your name, William?
I'm asking you, William Thatcher, to answer me with your name.
It's not Sir William.
It's not Count or Duke or Earl William. It's certainly not King William.
I'm aware of that.
You have to be of noble birth to compete.
A detail. The landscape is food. Do you want to eat or don't you?
If the nobles find out who you are, there'll be the devil to pay.
Then pray that they don't.
[CROWD CHEERING]
["WE WILL ROCK YOU" BY QUEEN PLAYING]
[SINGING "WE WILL ROCK YOU" BY QUEEN]
Visor.
Come on, we're late.
[CROWD CHEERING]
The score stands at three lances to none in favor of Sir Ector.
Lord Philip of Aragon.
Stand ye ready?
Sir Ector. Stand ye ready?
Ready?
Of course, I have tilted against Sir Ector many times, you know.
In practice as his target. You're never allowed to strike him.
Badger me not with details. Landscape, then. Stay on the horse.
He needs three points to beat you. So a broken lance won't win it for him.
He has to knock you off the horse. I know how to score, Roland.
I've waited my whole life for this moment.
You've waited your whole life for Sir Ector to shite himself to death?
[###]
[SCREAMS]
Get it in the cradle. Get in the cradle.
Get it in the cradle!
[CROWD CHEERING]
William, are you alive?
We won! We won! Can you hear me?
We won! We Won! Get off me!
ROLAND: William! Can you hear me, William?
We won!
He's breathing. He's breathing. He's breathing!
Sir Ector.
Sir Ector. Remove your helmet.
My lord, I'm afraid the final blow of the lance has bent it onto my head.
He says the final blow of the...
I present your champion, my lord.
[CROWD CHEERING]
ROLAND: Twenty.
FENCE: No, 10.
Fifteen. Done.
[HORSE WHINNYING]
Very good. Cheers.
Fifteen silver florins. He didn't want that.
That's five for William.
Five for Wat. Five for Roland,
who's going straight home to England.
WAT: Straight to the pub for me. Eel pie, brie tart,
tansy cakes with peppermint cream.
[###]
We could do this.
We've done it, boy. That's silver in your hand.
No, I mean, we can do this. We can be champions.
Give us your coins.
Now, come on. Give me your coins.
Now, that's one for you.
And one...
for you.
Which leaves 13.
That's 13 for training and outfitting.
The tournament in Rouen is in a month from now.
In one month, we could split a bigger prize than this one.
In one month we could be on our way to glory and riches none of us ever dreamed of.
In one month, we could be laid in a ditch with Sir Ector.
I don't want glory and riches, William. I just wanna go home.
Tansy cakes with peppermint cream.
Dilled veal balls with squash fritters.
I'll take my five now.
WAT: Oh, wait up.
You're going the wrong way!
You can't even joust.
Most of it is the guts to take a blow, to strike one. Guts I have.
And technique? I have a month to learn that.
Besides, the sword. Name a man better with a sword than I am.
In the practice ring. You're not of noble birth.
Well, so we lie.
How did the nobles become noble in the first place, huh?
They took it at the tip of a sword. I'll do it with a lance.
A blunted lance. No matter, Wat.
A man can change his stars. I won't spend the rest of my life as nothing.
That is nothing. And nothing is right where glory will take us.
We're the sons of peasants. Glory and riches and stars are beyond our grasp.
But a full stomach? That dream can come true.
If you can take your coins, go to England, eat cake.
But if you can't, you come with me.
You see? Money doesn't matter.
[ROLAND AND WAT SCREAMING]
[ALL GRUNTING]
Ah! Ow!
You see how hungry I am?!
Do you?! Damn your stomach, Wat!
[LAUGHING]
Roland, please.
With 13 silver pieces, three men can change their stars.
Thirteen's a damned unlucky number. Thirteen sat at the Last Supper
and we all know how that turned out.
Fine.
Wait here.
Twelve it is.
Come on. Come on.
You had to mention supper.
I'm in.
Roland?
God love you, William.
I know, I know. No one else will.
["LOW RIDER" BY WAR PLAYING]
Unlucky.
I think he's getting worse. He is getting worse.
[GRUNTING]
Switch.
Glory and riches. Glory and riches. Glory and riches!
[WHIMPERING]
You see how dangerous it is?
WILLIAM: Faster! Faster, Roland! All right, use those legs!
Come on, Roland. Faster! Faster!
You missed it. You've done it dozens of times.
Well, I guess that means we should do it again.
Come on.
Come on, ponies.
Fong him.
Faster. Balance.
No, slower. Keep it steady.
WILLIAM: I got it! Look, I got it! I got it!
Ahh!
[LAUGHING]
Any minute now.
[GRUNTING]
[CHEERING]
Yes, better. Nice.
We need a banner.
Our emblem.
I was thinking of a phoenix.
Why waste the money? We have Sir Ector's white stag.
Someone may recognize it.
We need to be reborn...
like a phoenix rising from the ashes.
[BURPING]
A lion.
Lying down with his head raised.
Yeah, but walking, right forepaw raised.
How about up on his hind legs? All of his weight on his left.
No, the right. The weight on the right.
No, everyone uses lions.
Can't you see? The phoenix.
Its end is its beginning.
Like myself.
Oh, well, if it's all about you, pick what you want.
You're the knight. We're just humble servants.
I meant, a phoenix, like the three of us, not just myself.
Three phoenixes then.
Three it is.
And he may be grasping in his talons a lion.
Just think about it.
WAT: It's my turn to ride. WILLIAM: No.
We haven't reached the mile marker yet.
And I'm not sure you should.
Suppose we pass another knight? How would it look if my squire rode while I walked?
WAT: I don't give a witch's teat! It's my turn! It's my turn!
ROLAND: Hey, hey. Look, maybe nobody should be riding.
The horse is not what he used to be and we need him, right?
Fine. Fine. Fine.
Morning.
MAN: Morning.
Hoy, sir.
What are you doing?
Uh... trudging.
You know, trudging? To trudge?
To trudge the slow, weary...
depressing, yet determined walk of a man who has nothing left in his life...
except the impulse to simply soldier on.
Were you robbed?
Interesting question, actually. Yes.
And then at the same time, a huge, resounding, "No. "
It's more a sort of involuntary vow of poverty, really.
But you know, on the brighter side, trudging does represent pride.
Pride, resolve and faith in the good Lord Almighty.
Please, Christ, rescue me from my current tribu...
Ahh!
Tribulations.
Who are you?
Lilium inter spinas.
The lily among the thorns.
Geoffrey Chaucer's the name. Writing's the game.
Chaucer?
Geoffrey Chaucer, the writer?
A what? "A what?" A writer.
You know, I write with ink and parchment. For a penny, I'll scribble you anything you want,
from summonses, decrees, edicts, warrants, patents of nobility.
I've even been known to jot down a poem or two, if the muse descends.
You probably read my book, The Book of the Duchess.
Fine. Well, it was allegorical.
Well, we won't hold that against you. That's for each man to decide for himself.
Did you say patents of nobility?
Yes, that's right. I did.
And you gentlemen are?
Well...
Well, I am Sir Ulrich von Lichtenstein from Gelderland.
And these here are my faithful squires, Delves of Dodgington
and Fowlehurst of Crewe.
I'm Richard the Lionheart. Pleased to meet you.
No, wait a minute. I'm Charlemagne! No, I'm St. John the Baptist!
All right!
Hold your tongue, sir, or lose it.
Now you see that, I do believe...
Sir Ulrich.
Thank you, Geoff.
Have you any more to say, Master Nude, or having failed your test, may we be on our way?
Oh, you're off to the tournament, are you?
This is the road to Rouen, isn't it.
Well, you know, that really remains to be seen. See, they're limiting the field at Rouen.
Noble birth must be established for four generations on either side of the family.
Patents of nobility must be provided.
[SIGHS]
Listen, clothe me...
shoe me, for God's sake, feed me, let me ride that horse
and you'll have your patents.
No.
Patents of nobility. We need him. We need him.
All right. Let me handle it. Be nice.
[###]
Nice, nice, nice.
All right.
Betray us and I will fong you until your insides are out,
your outsides are in,
your entrails will become your extrails.
I will...
All the...
Pain.
Lots of pain.
[CROWD CHEERING]
CHAUCER: May I present my lord, Ulrich,
whose mother's father was Shilhard von Rechberg,
son of the Duke Guelph of Saxony, son of Ghibellines, son of Wendish.
The same Wendish who inherited the fief...
That'll do, herald.
Six generations is more than enough. Show me the patents.
Indicate in which events shall your Lord Ulrich compete.
MAN: He'll first meet Roger Lord Mortimer.
Thank you very much.
I can't believe it. You did it, Chaucer.
I have to thank you. I didn't think we had a chance.
My pleasure, William.
Now, if you don't mind, I think I'll stick around, see how things turn out.
Act as my herald, and you'll receive your share of the winnings.
Done. Now, if you don't mind, I gotta go and see a man about a dog.
WILLIAM: # Walking out from Cheapside #
# My fortunes for to seek #
# I passed along the River Thames #
# Its waters did they reek #
# 'Twas there I met a pretty lass #
# She said her name was Nell ##
[###]
Bell or hell rhymes with Nell.
Would you speak to me?
Ah, to speak.
But, sir, my sex are marked by their silence.
Oh, I would hear you speak if it cost me my ears.
That is well, for I do not want silence in my life.
Tell me your name.
Would you care if I were ugly? Yes!
I mean, no. I mean...
You desecrate the house of God!
[PEOPLE CHATTERING]
Oh.
[WHISPERING] Tell me your name, woman.
And what would you do with my name, Sir Hunter?
Call me a fox, for that is all I am to you.
A fox?
Oh, well, then a fox you shall be until I find your name, my foxy lady.
[LAUGHS]
He's a handsome hunter. I give him that.
Does this not shock you, ladies?
Certainly, my lord.
I just... I only laugh just to keep from weeping.
Beauty is such a curse.
Pray your years come swiftly.
Pray your beauty fades that you may better serve God.
Oh, and I do, my lord. I pray for it all the time.
Why, God, did you curse me with this face?
God's will has a purpose, but we may not know it.
Well, that is lovely.
[SINGING]
[LAUGHING]
[CROWD CHEERING]
Sir Ulrich von Lichtenstein
defeats Roger Lord Mortimer one lance to none.
Easy, boys. They're likely to think it's the first time I've broken a lance.
But it is, William! It is!
Sir Ulrich's broken thousands of lances.
Well, come on, master of a thousand lances,
you're due in the sword ring in two minutes.
WILLIAM: My armor�s loose.
Germaine.
My lord?
That knight there, what badge is that?
Triple phoenixes.
Ulrich von Lichtenstein. A duke of Gelderland.
Gelderland?
Well east of the Rhine, I believe.
Hmm.
[GRUNTING]
Shite. If they come overhead, I can't block.
There's nothing for it now. We're overdue in the sword ring as we speak.
It was a mistake to do two events. I don't have time to breathe.
I should withdraw from the sword.
But the sword is by far what you're best at.
But the prizes are bigger in the joust, the prestige, as well.
Ulrich von Lichtenstein? Yes.
I am Simon the Summoner.
And I'm overdue at the sword arena.
I must detain you on behalf of your herald.
WILLIAM: You were never robbed, were you?
Look, I have a gambling problem.
I can't help myself.
And these people will
quite literally take the clothes off your back.
What do you expect us to do about it?
He assured us that you, his liege, would pay us.
And who are you?
Peter, a humble pardoner
and purveyor of religious relics.
How much does he owe you?
Ten gold florins.
You manky git!
Pain! Pain! Take the pain! Get him off me!
Wat, let him go!
Ow!
What would you do to him if I was to refuse?
We, on behalf of the Lord God
will take it from his flesh, so that he may understand
that gambling is a sin.
Oh, come on.
Please, Will.
[###]
Please, will you help me, Sir Ulrich?
I promise you won't regret it.
I don't have the money.
Release him and for God's sake
give him back his clothes.
And you'll get it. Done.
WILLIAM: You lied. Yes. Yes, I lied.
I'm a writer. I give the truth scope!
Behold my Lord Ulrich von Lichtenstein, son of...
Too late. He's been announced. Fine.
Ten blows by sword. Sir Ulrich to receive first.
[KNIGHT SCREAMING]
OFFICIAL: Strike!
WAT: Stop letting him hit you!
ROLAND: Shut up! Shut up!
[SCREAMING]
Two strikes for Sir Walter Loring!
Sir Ulrich to strike!
Now it's your turn! Come on!
[GRUNTING]
Yeah! Yeah!
OFFICIAL: Strike!
I taught him that! That's me!
Sir Ulrich prevails, five strikes to two!
Yes!
Behold my Lord Ulrich! The rock! The hard place!
Like a wind from Gelderland, he sweeps by!
Blown far from his homeland in search of glory and honor!
We walk in the garden of his turbulence!
Yeah!
[CROWD CHEERING]
["TAKIN' CARE OF BUSINESS" BY BACHMAN-TURNER OVERDRIVE PLAYING]
[CHEERING]
You've done it. You're champion. Of the sword.
That's why we're standing here, isn't it? Come on.
CHAUCER: Do you wanna touch him? Do you wanna touch him?
[HORSE WHINNYING]
Oh!
[###]
We should've saved our last penny for the blacksmith.
WILLIAM: Now, I can't pay you now,
but I promise you I will, just as... No! Money.
Excuse me. Cash first, not promises.
Go on.
Excuse me, sir.
You might try the farris.
A woman?
Beggars cannot be choosers, my lord.
Thank you.
Excuse me. I don't work for free.
And I can't joust with broken armor. That's your problem, not mine.
Each drop of this sweat has a price on it.
Just as well. They told me I was daft for even asking.
Who? The other armorers.
Did they say I couldn't do it because I'm a woman?
No, they said you were great with horseshoes but shite with armor.
The fact that you're a woman wasn't even mentioned.
MAN: Cat's meat! Hot wine!
Cat's meat! Hot wine!
[CROWD CHEERING]
Lady, I will win this tournament for you.
KNIGHT: Nay! I will win for you.
My lady, may I present Count Adhemar,
winner of the joust in France and high champion at Saint-Emilion.
All such moments forgotten when standing before the most beautiful woman in Christendom.
Do you only pretend to fight, Count Adhemar, or do you wage real war as well?
I am leader of the free companies. My army is in southern France, for the moment.
Geoff, 'tis my lady.
Oh, William, you aim too high.
Well, if there's another way to aim, I don't know it.
Concentrate. What should I say to her?
ADHEMAR: What do you think of the joust?
It's very abrupt.
And I'm afraid I don't understand the rules.
Then I shall educate you.
A match is three lances.
One point is awarded for breaking a lance on a man between the waist and neck.
Two points for breaking on the helmet. It's difficult.
The helmet sweeps back. Most blows glance off, leaving the lance unbroken.
And three points for bearing a rider to the ground.
Also, should you bear a rider to the ground, you win his horse.
And do men die in the joust?
The lance's points are tipped with coronals, which blunts them.
Of course, accidents happen.
I myself, Jocelyn, have never been unhorsed.
Nor have I.
WILLIAM: Your name, lady.
I still need to hear it.
Sir Hunter, you persist.
Or perhaps angels have no names. Only beautiful faces.
And you are?
Well, I am, um...
Have you forgotten?
Or your name is Sir "Um. "
[PEOPLE LAUGHING]
Ulrich von Lichtenstein from Gelderland.
Oh, I'd forget as well. What a mouthful.
Your armor, sir. What about it?
How stylish of you to joust in an antique. You'll start a new fashion if you win.
My grandfather will be able to wear his in public again.
And a shield. How quaint.
[PEOPLE LAUGHING]
Some of these poor country knights,
little better than peasants.
HERALD: - The second son
of Sir Wallace Percival, third Earl of Warwick.
My lords, my ladies,
it is with honor I introduce my liege,
Sir Thomas Colville.
[APPLAUSE]
[TRUMPETS PLAYING FANFARE]
CHAUCER: You're good.
You're very good.
My lords...
my ladies,
and everybody else here not sitting on a cushion...
[CROWD CHEERING]
Today... Today...
you find yourselves equals.
For you are all equally blessed.
For I have the pride...
the privilege, nay, the pleasure...
of introducing to you a knight sired by knights.
A knight who can trace his lineage back...
beyond Charlemagne.
I first met him
atop a mountain near Jerusalem
praying to God,
asking his forgiveness for the Saracen blood
spilt by his sword.
Next, he amazed me still further in Italy
when he saved a fatherless beauty
from the would-be ravishings of her dreadful Turkish uncle.
[CROWD GASPING]
In Greece
he spent a year in silence
just to better understand the sound...
of a whisper.
And so without further gilding the lily and with no more ado,
I give to you the Seeker of Serenity,
the Protector of Italian Virginity,
the Enforcer of our Lord God, the one, the only
Sir Ulrich von Lichtenstein!
[CROWD CHEERING]
Thank you! Thank you! I'll be here all week.
That was different.
Well, it's time we celebrated our differences.
Just maybe not in public.
You...
Yes, Master Fowlehurst, I'm well aware a good fonging is on the way.
Oh, yeah. Oh, yeah.
Now, I got their attention. You go and win their hearts.
[CHEERING]
Very good.
Was she watching? Geoff. What?
Did she see me? Yes, she saw you.
Did she see me take the hit? Yes, she saw you take the hit.
Was she concerned? It was dreadful. Her eyes welled up.
It was awful.
Colville has perfect technique. I've never seen him before.
Nor I.
But this Lichtenstein.
His technique, rudimentary. Style, nonexistent.
Still, he's fearless.
Fearless? How so?
The slit in a helmet's visor is narrow, but splinters can penetrate it.
Most knights raise their chins at the last instant.
You lose sight of your opponent, but you protect your eyes. This Ulrich doesn't.
He keeps his eye on the target.
A true hunter.
[###]
Sir Ulrich...
I'm through.
But I've never not finished before.
I wish to keep my honor intact.
[CROWD CHEERING]
A draw. And Colville is hurt.
Colville withdraws. Ulrich advances.
Why didn't Ulrich finish him?
He shows mercy.
Then he shows his weakness. That's all mercy is.
[WILLIAM SIGHS]
ROLAND: For the love of victory, William, go to sleep.
I can't.
Love has given me wings, so I must fly.
I can't explain it.
She makes me feel like a poet. You may feel like a poet,
but you sound like an idiot.
You don't even know her name. Her name?
Her name is Aphrodite.
Calypso. Venus. Take your pick.
Women weaken the heart.
Without your heart, you cannot win.
But her eyes... Concentrate.
Tansy cakes!
CHRISTIANA: Count Adhemar sends word.
He said he will win this tournament for you.
He's won many tournaments. He wins them for himself and for his own honor.
So it's nothing to say he wins them for me.
He wishes to speak to you again.
Not to hear a word I say.
Adhemar wants his women silent.
Would you have Sir Ulrich win this tournament for you?
No.
And he is the only knight that has not promised to do so.
Sir Ulrich von Lichtenstein.
I would have him win my heart.
[###]
[CROWD CHEERING]
CROWD [CHANTING]: Adhemar! Adhemar! Adhemar!
Oh, lovely.
Count Adhemar. I don't think I've ever seen him lose.
No, but defeat him and you'll see it firsthand.
My liege.
Sir Ulrich.
Christiana.
My lady bids you wear this token. Of course.
She also said to tell you, her name
is Jocelyn.
[WHISPERS] Jocelyn.
Au revoir. Au revoir.
Oh, Jocelyn.
Concentrate.
[###]
[HORSE WHINNYING]
[CROWD CHEERING]
I can't breathe.
No style whatsoever.
But neither has an anvil.
He hits like a hammer. It's amazing. But not perfect.
He aims high on your chest.
Roll your shoulder back when you strike, his blow may glance to your right.
If he strikes on the right. But if he strikes me to my left, I'll be obliterated.
I didn't say it wasn't a gamble.
[HORSE WHINNYING]
[CROWD CHEERING]
CROWD [CHANTING]: Ulrich! Ulrich! Ulrich! Ulrich!
[HORSE WHINNYING]
MAN: William?
William, here.
Come on. Come here.
[###]
Someday I'll be a knight.
[LAUGHS]
A thatcher's son? A knight?
You might as well try to change the stars.
Can it be done, Father?
Can a man change the stars? Yes, William.
If he believes enough, a man can do anything.
[CROWD CHEERING]
Whoa! Whoa! Whoa!
[PANTING]
Come here.
Gain more bearing, Ulrich.
See me again when you're worthy.
I'll fong you in the arse!
Well done, my lord! Well done.
You bastard! Go and see to Ulrich.
Well done, my lord.
A noble victory.
My lady, I believe this is yours.
MAN: For long spear on foot,
Pandolfo Malatesta.
[CROWD CHEERING]
MAN: For sword on foot, Ulrich von Lichtenstein.
[CROWD CHEERING]
And finally, for the mounted joust and tournament champion,
Adhemar, Count of Anjou.
[CROWD CHEERING]
CROWD [CHANTING]: Adhemar! Adhemar! Adhemar!
I present to you your champions.
Next time I face you, Count Adhemar, you will look up at me
from the flat of your back.
Please. You have been weighed, you have been measured...
and you have been found wanting.
Keep winning the sword and we'll be rich.
I won't compete in the sword again. It's your best event.
No. It's tournament champion or nothing at all.
Ten florins. That should do.
It's sixes and sevens tonight, Chaucer. Do you feel lucky?
Do you wear enough clothes?
CHAUCER: Go on. Be gone. I'm done with you.
Except to exact my revenge.
What on earth could you possibly do to us?
I will eviscerate you in fiction.
Every last pimple, every last character flaw.
I was naked for a day. You will be naked for eternity.
[LAUGHING]
I have a feeling we shall meet again.
WILLIAM: Here, farris, take what we owe you.
The armor you wear, it wasn't made for you, was it?
So, what of it?
I could make such armor you wouldn't even know you wore it.
And how much would that cost me?
Just take me as far as Paris.
We travel alone. Take your gold and go.
Get what you can out of that. The rest of us will pack camp.
Why are we leaving so soon?
The tournament at Lagny starts in a week.
We leave now, we can walk most of the way and save the horse.
No, you have go to the banquet tonight. You have to dance, you have to make an appearance.
WILLIAM: Oh and have Adhemar laugh at me again? No!
CHAUCER: Yes! WILLIAM: No!
[ROLAND CLEARS THROAT]
My lady would know the color of your lord's tunic tonight.
His tunic?
Yes, so that she can dress to match him.
We regret to inform your lady that we won't actually be attending...
Herald, do not answer questions you don't know the answer to.
Absolutely, my lord.
Squire, answer her.
What color is my tunic tonight?
Uh...
Green.
Trimmed in a kind of...
pale green...
with...
uh, wooden toggles.
I will tell my lady.
Oh, this is a disaster! No, it'll tunic up quite nicely.
Give us your dagger, Wat. That's not a disaster, Roland.
I don't know how to dance.
And one and two and three and four.
And your hand should be light, like a birdie on a branch.
And one, two and three and four.
And Wat doesn't lead, he follows like a girl.
And one and two and
twirly, twirly, twirly.
And one and two, and you're still getting it wrong.
And one and two and three and four.
You can hit me all day because you punch like a what?
A girl.
That's enough! Get back! Wat, quiet!
I'm doing this for you! He starts it. You know he's touchy!
[WHISTLES]
Oh, and you can do better, can you?
Of course I can. Good. Why don't you show us then.
No.
Listen, if I'm going to all this effort, you'd best learn to dance. Now ask her nicely.
I'm sorry, Kate.
I was wondering if you would care to show us how to dance.
Please. Please.
KATE: And one and two, three and four.
Five, six, seven, change partners.
And one, two, three, four,
five, six, seven.
Polonaise. And one...
You're not gonna wear your hair like that, are you?
Is there another way?
[LAUGHS]
[CHATTERING]
[###]
Sir Ulrich, you look fantastic.
Jocelyn, you look...
Uh, you...
you remind me of the Bible.
When God stopped the sun to give Joshua time to defeat the Amorites.
I don't understand.
If I could ask God one thing...
it would be to stop the moon.
Stop the moon and make this night...
and your beauty...
last forever.
ADHEMAR: Lady Jocelyn.
What fortune to be seated beside you.
Yes, and with Sir Ulrich.
Of course.
Congratulations on your victory with the sword.
And yours in the joust.
Jocelyn...
you look...
great.
MAN: Thank you, my lord. For the poor.
Thank you, my lord. For the poor.
Alms for the poor. Thank you, sire.
For the poor, my lord.
For the poor who wait outside, please.
Thank you.
For the poor.
Oh, thank you. You're very generous.
For the poor.
They won't be poor any longer
when Ulrich is through emptying his pockets.
No, Adhemar, there will always be poverty.
You see, poverty is the one possession the poor have that no one would envy.
Or take from them.
You're wrong, Sir Ulrich.
My lady.
The poor do have something that I envy.
They can marry for love, while we cannot.
Marry for money, lady...
and the love will follow.
What dance will you have? A coranto?
Or a basse dance?
ADHEMAR: Sir Ulrich.
Why don't you show us a dance of your country?
Show us a dance of Gelderland.
Yes. Gelderland.
Uh...
Well, it's a lot like the farandole...
but with some differences.
Well, you bow.
And...
Um...
[PEOPLE CHATTERING AND LAUGHING]
And...
[###]
DANCEMASTER: Places. Places.
["GOLDEN YEARS" BY DAVID BOWIE PLAYING]