All language subtitles for King Richard and the Crusaders new 1954).english

Upon this seemingly peaceful desert,

two savage crusades have
been fought by Christians

against Muslims.

Palestine became a kingdom of the cross,

but the tide of battle turned,

and the Crusaders lost their early gains.

Then in 1191 anno Domini,

the knights of the Third Crusade

rode towards Jerusalem,

led by King Richard I
of England,

Richard of the Lion-heart,

a man whose past was
filled with deeds of valor

and who now was pledged
by religious vow

to win back the Holy Land
from Saladin,

Sultan of the thousand tribes
of Araby,

master of the arts
of desert warfare,

genius of the methods
of swift entrapment.

Hail the king!

Hail the king!

Hail the king!

Hail! Hail! Hail!

Hail! Hail! Hail!

Hail to King Richard!

Hail to King Richard!

[Men shouting]

Another victory, Sire?

Aye, if such you can call it--

Chasing of phantoms in bed-robes.

On their ghostly little
horses swift as eagles.

But Sir Giles proved that these Saracens
aren't supernatural.

They left a good supper for the crows.

That's true.

Ever since the siege of Acre,

I've had the highest esteem
for Sir Giles and his knights.

My liege.

Hear this! Hear ye all!

Princes, lords, and knights!

It is my decree--

should the misfortunes of war lay me low,

that Sir Giles Amaury command the military

as my Vice Regent.

I commend his rare
gifts of generalship to you.

Your highness.

This is an honor of great measure.

A well-deserved one.

Ah... this infernal heat.

Northmen weren't fashioned for it.

Sir Knight of the Leopard...

Aye, your highness.

As the guard of my body,
you deserve a laudation.

Your highness takes dangerous risks.

[Speaking Gaelic]

What?

God be with you, sire.

What is this manner of speech?

Gaelic, sire.

You're a Scot. I despise the breed.

Aye. They've refused to
be conquered by England.

I'll wash the Isle of
Britain with their blood

as soon as I've destroyed the Saracen.

But tell me...

why do you so valiantly serve me--

an enemy king?

I do not serve a king, but a man.

Ha! By Saint George!

Here's a different loyalty!

I've watched you, Sir Knight.

I've beheld no greater courage than yours.

[Whining]

Are you listening to me?

With all my ears, Sire.

Today you defended my flank,

striking down Saracen skirmishes.

[Speaking Gaelic]

Barbarian, don't speak to
me in your uncouth tongue!

[Whining]

By Saint George! There's no majesty here!

Ha ha ha ha ha!

You are his king.

Roswal is my esquire--

the only retinue of an impoverished knight.

Loyalty...

the higher virtue than majesty sometimes.

And seldom found where expected.

loyalty-- a word of thin meaning here,

where allegiance to the leader

was only as strong as
the leader's own strength.

the rulers of Europe,

who at home had warred
ceaselessly on each other,

were no brotherhood in this foreign land.

each had his conviction
as to who should command

the loose union of the Third Crusade.

Leopold, Duke of Austria,

drank too much, too often,

and jealously fancied himself
the peer of Richard.

and King Philip of France
was a moody monarch

who felt that Frenchman
should fight

only under the French banner.

indeed, there was much intrigue

designed to supplant the English lion.

Most of the schemers
were cautious politicians,

but there were some with bolder plans.

In the name of the king, who goes there?

Sir Giles Amaury,

Grandmaster of the
knights of the castle refuge.

Conrad, Count of Montferrat.

Guard our lion well, good fellow.

Yes, my lords.

Pass.

There's your mark.

No.

A Saracen arrow.

Strike deep.

This is no ordinary man.

Oh! Oh!

An assassin!

The king has been wounded!

An assassin!

Bring a doctor!

Quickly!

The arrow of a Saracen.

We're at your command, Sir Giles,

All men of all nations.

It was the wish of our beloved Richard.

Bid the Teutonic knights ride west

in search of Saracens,

the Hospitalers, east,

my Castelains, north and south.

Have men at arms and archers

search every furlong of this encampment.

Per istam sanctam unctionem

indulgeat tibi dominus

quidquid deliquisti.

The arrow did not reach the heart.

[King Richard]
Ah...

He lives.

Who are you?

Kenneth of Huntingdon, Sire.

Ah...

My loyal Scot.

A Saracen arrow...

it tells nothing.

The finding of the bow
would give the answer.

[Men talking]

The king has been wounded!

Find the assassin!

It was a Saracen arrow!

It was a Saracen arrow!

Search the encampment!

Find the bowman!

Let us not remain bound to a dying leader,

to the empty throne of Richard of England,

to an arrogance that has
raised the English standard

above all of yours,

even above my proud eagle of Austria!

Hoch Lebe der Herzog Leopold!

Hoch Lebe der Herzog Leopold!

Hoch Lebe Leopold!

Prepare to bury your dead
and choose a new commander,

one with the power of the
German empire behind him!

Kings, princes,

soldiers of the cross,

I submit that there is
none more able and worthy

than he who now stands here before you--

A whole man

in the flower of health and wisdom!

[Rattles]

[Laughter]

Right you are, Your Highness!

Thank you!

Thank you, dear Leopold,
for this royal honor!

Ha!

Sir Richard sent his jester to the Council.

There must be much life left in him.

He's near death.

It was I who sent his fool to laugh
Leopold out of the running.

What of King Philip?

Philip of France-- I have him right here.

You'll be confirmed as
leader at once. Watch.

Misbegotten idiot!

Take him away!

Silence!

Silence for the king of France.

My brethren at arms,

I see but little difference
in your absurdities--

A court idiot anointing himself Commander,

The Duke of Austria

presuming to such high ascension.

France cannot indulge
his fantastic ambitions.

Montferrat.

I advise this council

to listen to the wise Venetian

whose gold pays for much of this crusade.

Great Liege of France,
my lords and friends...

let us remember the debt larger than gold

that we owe to King Richard of England.

Is gratitude so short of memory

That we forget his decree--

That Sir Giles, Grandmaster of
the Castle Knight shall lead us?

[Shouting]

France supports the
leadership of the Castelains.

Let none hide his allegiance.

All those who stand for Sir Giles,

move to his side.

[Trumpets blast]

The king. The king.

"Near death," you said.

God save the king!

[Men shouting]

Dear traitors,

it is still my odious pleasure

to command you.

Not traitors, sire!

No! No!

No! No!

No! No!

Your arrow was as poisonous

as the hatred I smell here.

Not our arrow.

It was a Saracen arrow!

From a Frankish bow.

The search discovered no Saracens.

They hide like foxes.

Saladin's archers have
never dealt in poison.

By our lady,

I have a higher regard for him

than for some of you.

Sir Giles Amaury.

Your Highness.

Come forward.

If this be trouble...

Kneel.

As I stated yesterday, Sir Giles,

I deem you the most worthy of my generals.

And so now I reward you
in fact as well as in words.

I create you my Vice Commander

to lead the forces of Christendom

during my absence from the field.

Most gracious highness.

If there be any dissenters,

speak now or forever hold your tongues.

In the name of unity,

I extend this privilege

to all knights and captains.

Not one dissenter?

Aye!

Here's one.

At your command, Sire,

I'll follow the leader of
the Castelers into battle,

but as a knight who keeps his vows,

I pay no respect to one of broken vows!

Your highness,

I plead to avenge this.

Silence.

By Saint George, you're a reckless fool,

not unlike myself, Scotsman.

I beg permission to offer him combat.

I forbid it. The Scot
would crack your skull.

Now...

what are these sins?

The persecution of defenseless Muslims

who do not even bear arms.

I do not deny that in the past,

they were devoted to
the protection of pilgrims,

but now corruption rules them!

Prisoners rot in their castle,

which they call a holy refuge!

They thrive on ransom and plunder!

Improbable. The Castelain seeks no
unarmed enemies or worldly goods.

Sir Giles, you pledge yourself

by the cross of this sword

to give chivalrous treatment

to the defenseless, friend or foe?

I do, my Liege.

Rise.

Take your command at once.

[Men shouting]

Well... it's done.

Not if Richard recovers.

Richard will die.

By such time, you'll have your Castelers

in all important captaincies.

They'll drive these warriors to battle,

and Saladin's armies will fall.

We'll make our own terms of peace
with the great Saladin.

I've always fancied the
oriental mode of living--

a kingdom of our own,

bought by the blood of crusaders.

[Trumpets blast]

Hail! Hail!

Hail! Hail!

Hail! Hail!

But there is a flaw, isn't there?

I could render Philip

and his kingdom of France bankrupt.

Yes. You have the power that rules rulers.

And yet it's the sad truth

that one Scottish thistle in the broth

could choke us.

The Scot won't trouble us again.

Every knight of my order

will have him marked for riddance.

[Doctor]
Bleeding is the cure,

but the knife excels the leech.

Herbs and stones,

compounded with the liver of a toad,

do miracles for all sick.

[Crying]

Who is that wailing she-cat?

Your wife, Sire--

Her Highness, Queen Berengaria.

[Richard]
Mmm...

I deserved punishment

for bringing such a following to war.

That remark, Sire,

It'll befits your chivalrous heart.

The devil take my heart.

Confine your attentions to my soul.

A heavy task.

Your life has been no saint's pattern.

Aye.

[Queen Berengaria crying]

Edith, have you no tears
for your cousin Richard?

I weep only at funerals, my queen.

There will be none for Richard,

not unless these stupid
mediciners take his life.

Begone, you fakirs!

Your highness.

Begone, I say!

Good cousin Edith.

She's right, always right.

Out with your leeches and your brew!

Jackals!

Bloodsuckers!

May the devils of Kurdistan seize you!

It's the wasting of blood
that robs your strength.

Can we not empty this
pavilion so he can rest?

Sweep them out, Edith.

We're Plantagenets, you and I,

named for the sprig of the broom!

Berengaria.

What is this I hear

About some pilgrimage you're planning?

I leave with Lady Edith at sunrise my lord

to pray for you at the Ein Gedi Convent.

Well, that's a dangerous journey--

across the desert.

We shall be quite safe.

As you've often remarked,
Saladin is a man of chivalry.

Aye, that's true.

Saladin directs no attacks
on shrines or pilgrims,

but there are lawless marauders.

The queen's arranged

for Castelains to escort us.

Ah... then you'll be safe.

There's no better warrior than a Casteler,

except perhaps...

summon that renegade of Scotland.

I'll dispatch him

an hour's distance ahead of your caravan.

He'll warrant you complete safety.

And now show the queen to her pavilion.

And you, my good Archbishop,

go pray for the success of this pilgrimage.

He is not a renegade.

What?

Who?

Sir Kenneth.

He's a most honorable knight.

Well, no slur was intended.

Ha ha ha ha!

My dear little Edith--

she has become a woman.

I wonder sometimes

what secrets are in this
woman's heart of hers.

Ha ha ha!

Dick Plantagenet is still its hero.

Truly?

What a fellow.

Have you, uh...

Have you heard somewhat
of the feats of Sir Kenneth?

I saw him unhorse 12 knights

in the jousts

As easily as playing a game of bowls.

But not quite with...

Not precisely, shall we say,

with the fine strokes of--

There is only one Richard Couer de Lion.

Oh, by Saint George!

I mention this matter
because I intend, someday,

to arrange a worthy marriage for you.

Always remember that there's a divinity

about a Plantagenet
which must not be soiled

by any oath of lower house or race.

Of course.

Such as this Scottish swineherd.

If ever he approaches you arm's length,

I'll have his head in a basket!

Ha ha! Absurd, isn't it?

Ha ha ha! Yes...

Isn't it?

Good night, dear Richard.

I must rest for the pilgrimage.

Good night, dear cousin.

Good night.

Beloved.

Oh, Edith.

Oh, take care.

My cousin has great eyes and ears.

And too great a vanity

to suspect you wear the ring of Scotland.

But he does have suspicions.

It's better that he know
I shall be his cousin.

No, my dearly betrothed.

He would set the headsmen on your neck.

Kiss me while these lips are still warm.

No.

No.

This is a pleasant madness.

A lunacy with which I would love

to be afflicted

till the end of my life.

And if Richard would take my life,

I must live swiftly.

One kiss...

for every year he'd take away.

The Scots are quite long-lived,

So I've heard.

They're well-nigh immortal.

My grandfather sired my father

at the age of 84.

Oh, Kenneth...

the guards.

What guards?

Tell cousin Richard...

tell the king his humble servant awaits.

Your Highness, Sir Kenneth of Huntingdon.

[Speaking native language]

I accept no heathen amity!

I give you your own proverb, infidel!

"In the desert, no man meets a friend!"

Defend yourself!

[Speaking native language]

[Speaking native language]

Aah!

Ha ha ha!

May the seven doves rest on your shoulders.

Doves or vultures, you slippery infidel?

You know our language?

In my poor way, I try to know all things.

Peace! Peace!

This is a word which everyone should know

in every tongue.

I am the Emir Ilderim

of Kurdistan.

I am Sir Kenneth of
Huntingdon, knight-errant.

He of the sleeping Leopard.

I have often considered

How well your motto fits you--

"I sleep. Do not awake me."

You have too much knowledge.

We Saracens have ears
in the boughs of trees.

You are a good and faithful warrior,

but there are some not so loyal

in your camp.

Who else but a traitor

would have struck down
Richard the Lion-heart?

What are you, a spy?

Ha ha ha!

No. I am a physician,

Physician-in-Chief

to the great Sultan Saladin.

My master so admires the lion-heart

that he has sent me to save his life.

By our lady, this is chivalry!

From one enemy who
has never seen the other.

This admiration is well-shared.

My Richard holds your Saladin

in equal esteem.

Then perhaps you will offer me

the protection of your lance.

My journey leads to the valley of Zora

past the stronghold of the Castelains.

I love them no more than you do.

So we find one bond at least.

Come. I invite you to share

The waters of the oasis with me.

Wine?

Ah. Allah forbids it.

And wisely, no doubt.

You delicate creatures!

Share it with that fellow beast you ride.

Perhaps he will imagine he is a horse.

He's superior to any steed in Araby.

You may not believe this,

but he has carried me across a lake

as wide as the Dead Sea

without wetting a fetlock.

Oh, monstrous gabber!

There'd be ice on Loch Ness today.

Ice?

Ha ha ha!

I forgot.

You live in an inferno

Where even the stones melt.

Ice is a frozen water.

Frozen?

Mmm...

A cold, blue substance

that makes a winter's
lake glimmer to the stars.

Something you make in your crazy head.

What else can one expect from madmen

who cross the world

to fight for an empty sepulcher?

The tomb of our savior.

The prince of peace,

yet in his name you crusade with the sword.

Against you who live by the sword.

And yet, sometimes I think

there should not be this strife.

The warriors of Saladin
and the knights of Richard

have a goodly creed in common--chivalry.

Ah. When I was younger,

the crusaders came and conquered,

and I was filled with admiration

for these enemies,

these shining ones

who fought for some strange purity.

I studied their ways.

I learned to speak and
think their language.

I became, at heart, a knight,

lacking but one of your so-called ideals.

What is it?

Perhaps I can help you.

Ha ha ha! Impossible.

You could never teach me

to be so mindless as to
make goddesses of women.

You make slaves of women!

Wives, slaves-- by the laws of Mohammed,

the point is too thin to debate.

Don't bring that prophet of
Mecca into any talk of womanhood.

Womanhood?

I have seen not one of
your straw-haired scarecrows

I would have in my harem.

What?

You...

Demon of black magic!

[flourish plays]

I did not expect the queen so soon.

Queen?

Her Highness, the Queen of England.

I'm the vanguard of her pilgrimage.

I cannot stand at arms
like a plucked goose!

Come. I will help you
with this Frankish corset.

And take care.

Remain hidden.

The caravan is escorted by Castelains.

[Flourish plays]

Kenneth.

Who is he?

The pauper Scot of Huntingdon.

Dashing knight indeed.

If I were not wed to dear, sweet Richard...

for shame, Berengaria,

to even think beneath your station.

Allah...

strike me mute if I ever say scarecrow.

[Horses approaching]

I'm sure I saw the turban of a Saracen

on the top of that date tree.

There's nobody in that tree.

There was. We'll search the oasis.

Heathen beast!

He was hiding cleverly in that thicket.

We'll find his master.

Sir Knight?

Yes, milady?

I commend you for a duty well-done.

On returning to our encampment,

I shall more fully express

the royal gratitude.

My humble thanks.

What delays our rear guard?

Some harmless Muslim I saw at the oasis.

By your leave--

Yes, I command you.

Don't let the Castelains
put him to the sword.

There he is!

There's that defender of the Muslims!

Sir Giles himself

couldn't have arranged
a happier circumstance.

The Saracen monkey has run out of trees.

Spit him on the point of a lance.
That will bait the leopard.

In the name of the king
we'll have to kill that Scot...

in honest defense.

I'll get the Muslim.

No!

The Scot is our mark!

Right.

Can the lion be any mightier

than the leopard?

I wonder.

"To his sovereign Lord Highness,

"Richard the Lion-hearted,

"King of England,

"Duke of Normandy and Aquitaine

"and Count of Anjou,

"greetings from Saladin, king of kings,

"Sultan of Egypt and Syria,

"the light and refuge of the earth.

"Let there be truce between us

"while the Emir Ilderim,

"who can save man

"from all that is not
written on his forehead,

drives the death angel from the sickroom."

[Murmuring]

"When full strength returns to Richard,

"let the issues of this war

"be decided between him and me alone.

"Let there be blows struck between us

"on some neutral field of honor,

"and be it pledged that

to the better man goes total victory."

Noble adversary!

I'll convert him to holy church

with such blows as he has seldom endured.

Ha!

[Murmuring]

I accept these terms.

Dispatch messengers to Saladin with gifts,

with the gold chalice I stole from--

I won in the conquest of Cyprus.

By Saint George,

I'll conquer Islam single-handed.

I'll enter the gate of David

without losing another warrior.

Richard, don't trust
this heathen physician.

This is treachery!

Your life, sire! Your life!

My life in your hands is nearly gone.

Out with you.

Show them out, fool!

They understand nothing of intelligence.

Right, sir!

Their heads rattle like beads

in an empty gourd!

How young you are

to have acquired great learning.

I am still learning much.

I am learning why the Franks

make goddesses of women.

Let us get on with the healing.

These strange pale-eyed Goths!

They show their hearts

like the bumps on a pomegranate,

so different from the Saracen,

who would need be a spinning dervish

to bow to all his loves.

We are not here to study philosophies.

Indeed, I begin to pity my brethren

who seek treasures in quantity

instead of quality.

Yea, verily,

is not one perfect diamond more warming

than a thousand semiprecious fragments?

By Saint Andrew.

Is this a mediciner

or some Persian popinjay?

Ah!

Forgive me! I was not aware.

Ha ha ha!

I am a physician.

Fear not. I will heal the lion.

[Richard] Sir Kenneth.

Sire?

I bid you,

stand the late watch tonight.

If hope fades,

summon the most reverend Archbishop.

Let no others pass.

I've lost faith in nearly all.

Command me, Sire.

Prepare a brazier.

See that the coals are hot.

Make haste, woman,

or send me one who is more nimble.

For my cousin,

I shall give your command to the scullery!

Oh, forgive me.

It is not easy in a wink of time to change

the habits of a thousand years.

Milady.

I am not offended.

As the moon is not offended

by the baying of a hound.

I shall heat the brazier.

I am learning.

How I am...

Learning.

The butcher of Huntingdon!

You slaughtered my good Castelers.

They weren't good Castelers,

but they are now.

Sir Giles, this is no
time for an accounting.

We've come to protect his
highness from your Saracen.

They say, in his fevered mind,

he's bargaining away victory with a truce.

By all that's holy,

that would spoil your game, wouldn't it?

If he lives to make the peace--

I command you pass us through.

I'm tempted to run you through.

Take care, or you'll answer
to the English soldiers.

They hold you responsible for
the Saracen and his medicines.

What shall we tell them? How goes the work

of your heathen fakir?

Tell them it goes slowly.

If we knew the nature of the poison,

he could adapt his cure.

You're a Castelain bowman, aren't you?

[Sir Giles]
Our camp has many bowmen.

This one's my body servant.

Armed with a dagger tonight

instead of his longbow?

Is it a Saracen dagger?

Can you follow this stupid reasoning?

Your bowman can. Stay here!

Go to my tent.

Come here, bowman!

Go!

I'll teach you obedience!

[Growling]

[Speaking Gaelic]

If his highness dies...

I shall be your court of trial,

your sole commander and judge.

And if I find the proof I seek,

you'll be a sorry-looking Solomon.

I doubt the soldier rabble

will spare you long enough for trial,

unless your infidel performs a miracle

on their beloved Richard.

[Sizzling]

Ugh!

Oh...

The wound is seared.

The poultice.

A woman of Islam

would have shown a faint heart.

But not a Plantagenet.

Go now, little golden one.

Go and rest.

No. Stay, Edith.

You are my strength,

the blood of old William who conquered.

Ah.

By Saint George,

This is fair company.

Roll the dice.

We'll match death

throw for throw.

And we shall win.

The talisman has the power of heaven.

The talisman?

It is truly magic,

yet powerless unless blessed by faith.

Put your hands upon the cup,

my lady of starlight.

Do your work, little talisman,

while two hearts warm you

with two faiths.

I was trying to say,

there is no magic

without a believing love.

Let him drink of the cup.

As you love his life,

so shall he be healed.

[Ilderim] Drink...

Drink...

and dream of paradise.

♪ Drink ♪

♪ Drink ♪

♪ When paradise ♪

♪ is in the heart ♪

♪ There is ♪

♪ no room ♪

♪ for death ♪

♪ The sun's
fair diamond ♪

♪ burns
more bright ♪

♪ Alone ♪

♪ than 20
moons of topaz ♪

♪ On each hand ♪

♪ the world's
true light ♪

♪ is from a
single star ♪

♪ Jewels ♪

♪ in fragments ♪

♪ Of a grain ♪

♪ of sand
♪♪

So...

I fetched you a minstrel

Instead of a healer.

I have faith in his powers.

What kind of powers?

To roll an eye and sing a quatrain?

He does it quite prettily.

And you show yourself to him most prettily!

Perhaps you think I should be veiled

like an Arab woman.

It would hide nothing from a harem master.

He knows the geography of a female

like the palm of his hand.

How many wives do you imagine he has?

Oh, I'm awkward at numbers.

Beyond a 100, I count poorly.

We must remember he's
a creature of conditions.

He's not at fault for the sorry state

of his soul.

That heathen has no soul!

That silky son of Satan,
he's bewitched you!

No, Kenneth, no!

It's this strange land, I think.

This land so different from our own.

I'm a Plantagenet...

yet, somehow,

here I...

I feel less proud.

They weave a spell here.

A spell of...

peace...

starlight...

Bethlehem.

I'm beginning to despise war.

The dread,

the wondering each time you ride away

if you'll come back among the living.

My bonny...

Bonny Edith.

If I be so dear to you,

I'll wage war no more

when this crusade is done.

Kenneth!

I'll live for you...

years upon years!

Oh, my dear! My sweet!

A hundred years at least. You promised!

Aye! Aye!

And be a sire at 84.

Aye, as hardy as my grandfather.

84?

And what would I be doing?

Listen, beloved.

We'll live on the
highlands' tallest place...

and I'll never cross the moat.

When you grow old,

I promise I'll be old!

I'll wear a shawl

and play the pipes for you.

And I'll bake your bread

and cook your porridge,

and we'll look down on

all the little kings and queens.

[Yelling]

I tell you...

His Highness is alive!

It's a lie!

Let us see him!

For three days, we've heard that!

[Crowd yelling]

Be this my funeral?

No, no, Richard.

You're back from the dead.

Three days and three nights in--

in Moorish paradise, dear wife.

My good Archbishop, you'd be astonished.

Ha ha!

Sleep mends what men cannot.

No more fever of poison.

The wound is healing.

Oh! Oh! Oh! Oh!

Baron de Vaux,

bring a thousand gold bezants

for this wondrous Saracen.

No, my prince.

I accept no gold for Allah's wisdom.

Then how can I reward you?

Name any boon...

that is within my power to grant.

It is a wise man

who asketh not for sun or moon.

I will think of some small token.

Give me time to consider.

[Man] Show us the living king!

Saint George for merry England!

Saint George for merry England!

Hail! Hail! Hail!

Hail! Hail! Hail!

Hail! Hail! Hail!

Show me my banner.

Bless you, good watchdogs.

It still flies higher than any.

Hail! Hail! Hail!

Hail! Hail! Hail!

A whole English company
has guarded it, Sire.

We feared Duke Leopold might tear it down.

You flatter that wine-belly

by keeping a whole company at duty.

I know one solitary knight

who could guard it against him

and all his potbellies.

Scotsman,

what would you say if I offered you

the guardianship of England's banner?

I would be speechless, Your Highness.

And then what?

I would say, "England's banner?"

Ha ha ha!

Very well, then.

Call it "Dick Plantagenet's banner,"

And serve me, a friend.

So great an honor has
never come to me before.

Then, by Saint George, you accept it.

Not by Saint George, Sire.

By Saint Andrew.

A good Scottish saint.

Hail the king!

Hail! Hail! Hail!

Hail to the king!

Once more, the game of chess is drawn,

and I know better now how to play it.

King against a knight,

and a knight against a king.

[Drum roll plays]

Ha ha ha!

That painful teacher is
known as the Quintain.

It trains our squires for knighthood.

Sir Kenneth.

Ready, Sire!

Pay heed!

Observe the proper gait
and the couching of the lance!

[Crowd cheers]

Laissez les Aller!

Good, Sir Edmund! Good!

What a fine joust it will be, you and I.

The lion against the leopard.
What say who careth?

A friendly joust.

Some men have gods on earth.

I'll strike no blow against mine.

Nobody but I could beat you,

not even the great Giles Amaury.

I've been seeking a bowman of his,

the one I suspect of having launched

that arrow at Your Highness.

I've combed the entire
camp searching for him.

But he seems to have vanished.

Giles Amaury could have
had a powerful commander-ship

if Ilderim had not saved me.

Time will tell, Sir Kenneth,

Whether I've trusted a traitor

or whether you are an overzealous friend.

Beware of Giles Amaury.

I may not always be
near to remind you, Sire.

What?

I love a maid of blood royal.

The outcome might not
make me welcome hereabouts.

Not my cousin Edith.

No, of course not. A Plantagenet.

Knowing you as I now do,

I realize you would not aspire that high.

Ha ha ha!

By Jehovah, there's but one other
royal spinster with this expedition.

The Duke Leopold's niece of Rhodes.

Ah ha ha ha!

What would you do if you were I, Sire?

I'd steal her! Forget consequences.

I'll help you! Come.

We'll match our lances
once more, then a pot of ale.

I'll instruct you how to make a jackass
out of Leopold.

You may tell your Sultan Saladin

that I'm now ready to do combat with him.

His head will look regal
on the point of this lance.

The message, dear
prince, as good as delivered.

♪ When paradise
is in the heart ♪

♪ There is
no room ♪

♪ for death ♪

♪ The sun,
fair darling ♪

♪ burns more
bright a light ♪

♪ than 20
moons of topaz ♪

♪ On each hand ♪

♪ the one
true light ♪

♪ is from the
same star ♪

♪ Jewels in
fragments ♪

♪ of the
grains of sand ♪

♪ the lamp of
magic in Bokhara ♪

[Speaking Gaelic]

[Whining]

♪ ...With
golden hours ♪

♪ While the
nightingale ♪

♪ singing
to a rose ♪

♪ Dreams
not of gardens ♪

♪ but of the flower of
flowers ♪♪

Are there really magic lamps in Bokhara?

I carry one among my amulets.

And what of magic carpets?

My prayer rug has the powers

of gossamer and zephyr.

It could sail you to the wonders

of the palace of Saladin.

A Christian slave?

No. A Christian inspiration,

even to the great Saladin.

Fair lady, you could
sway the sultan's beliefs

as easily as you have captured mine.

A Christian world from Britain to China.

A world at least

where beliefs can meet in understanding,

a world not made of fleeting truces

nor Saladins and Richards

hurling steel at one another.

This world of killing,
it will never change.

It can be changed,

But only by a spirit,

The spirit of the heart at peace.

That is a dream.

Not if the gates of the hearts are open,

not unless love is locked out.

Love?

The love of a Saracen for a Christian.

I swear in the name of Allah

with you at my side

in the court of Saladin,

I could bring eternal
peace to east and west.

Soon I journey homeward.

Shall Saladin fight Richard?

Shall there be brotherhood or war?

Think, milady Edith,

Think with your Nazarene conscience.

Edith.

You left your guard post.

The banner is safe enough,

safer than that love-struck Saracen.

If I catch him mooning at you--

Please go back. Now listen to me.

Tomorrow I'll find a chaplain
post the marriage banns.

Let anyone challenge.

I'll defend the issue by force of arms.

Against Richard?

It was he who told me what to do.

An enemy of England,

and I was fool enough to trust you.

Enjoy this shame, Edith,
with all my enemies.

Kenneth!

Remain here.

Guard her ladyship!

I can save the animal from death,

but not you from your stupidity.

[Whining]

Restore the banner.

Call on the Duke Leopold.

See what guilt you can discover,

and send me the master of
heraldry of this encampment.

He's the Count of
Montferrat, Your Highness.

It's quite clear now
that you were sent here

by the Scottish Barbarians to plague me,

to turn me against my valued general,

Sir Giles Amaury.

You cannot believe that!

That's not beyond the possibility that you
had the banner toppled.

And put a Saracen arrow--

It smacks of highland methods.

Your reasoning smacks of childishness!

By St. George, I'll carve you
without the courtesy of the headsman!

My Liege, you summoned me?

You are a scholar of the
histories of noble houses.

Can I send this man to the block,

or must I offer him the
combat of gentlemen?

I would have to consult the scrolls.

I do have some recollection
of the Leopard Couchant.

He'd likely be the youngest son

of the Earl of Huntingdon.

That is true.

Of royal kinship?

Quite so, my Liege.

By the laws of chivalry, any
king who held guilt against him

would have to give him trial by combat.

How can I soil the field
with a scoundrel's blood?

It would add to the rumor, Your Highness

if you didn't observe the institutions.

What rumor?

That King Richard would have no taste

for a passage of arms with this champion.

Oh, ridiculous, of course,
but you know how they go.

Take up the gauntlet.

You'll be only a passing exercise

for my meeting with Saladin.

You may find the exercise a bit strenuous.

I've broken better knights
than you with blunted lance,

but there will be no
such niceties this time.

The combat shall be at sunrise
under the rules of Joute a L'outrance.

To the death?

So you are afraid.

Like all cowards who prowl the dark,

thieving and wenching.

I shall command the Lady Edith

to watch you bleed tomorrow.

That shall be her punishment.

Watch him well.

You promised me trouble, didn't you?

You and that master Castelain.

You made your own bed of thorns.

With your help.

I vow...

I'll try you someday for your crimes.

But first you must slay
King Richard, mustn't you?

Ah, yes, you must... or be slain.

And do you avouch the justice of your cause

And take oath that your
fate will be according to

the truth or falsehood
of what you have sworn?

I do.

And you do avouch for
the justice of your cause

and take oath that your fate
will be according to the truth

or falsehood of what you have sworn?

I do.

[Crowd cheering]

Yay! Yay!

[Drum roll]

Here rides a knight accused by King Richard

of foul dishonors.

Victory or defeat must
prove his guilt or innocence.

[Crowd] No!

Whereas it is decreed by his highness

that any and all weapons
may be used in any fashion.

He who is unhorsed may be struck to death

at no cost to gallantry!

Laissez les aller!

Laissez les aller!

Laissez les aller!

Richard!

Ha ha ha!

I'll marshal the armies.

We'll break the truce with Saladin at once.

Not unless the Scot-- that numskull!

Remount your horse!

That is not my right.

Then it's my right to dismount.

You're a fool if you do.

I give you your life

with the compliments of Scotland.

strike, or lose your own life.

Confess your dishonor, and I'll spare you.

The dishonor is yours.

They know I beat you.

You fool! You force me to kill you!

Your Highness!

You once offered to grant me

whatever boon I desired.

That is true, Saracen.

I have chosen

that you give me that man's life

in return for your life,

which I saved.

I grant your plea,

but mind you, his
defeat has fixed his guilt.

He shall be stripped of knighthood,

his sword broken, his spurs cast away.

You've won a poor victory, cousin.

I give him to you as your bond serf.

He has forfeited his place in Christendom.

Take him away from here.
Take him to the camps of Islam!

Our journey will not be far, dear prince.

We shall be your neighbors.

What is this?

While you war among each other,

the host of Saladin make their encampment

in the valley of Zorah.

Edith... Edith.

Edith.

Her name is Saroub.

She is the Begum of your harem.

She was, until recently, mine.

[Speaking native language]

Where am I?

In that Moorish paradise

of which King Richard spoke,

but with you, it is no dream.

It must be.

These garments-- who put them on me?

She did.

You are no longer a Frankish lobster,

but a noble in the camp of the Saracens.

By Saint Andrew!

This is against my vows.

What vows?

You are no longer a knight.

Your spurs have been removed.

You have been banished

from the world of the Franks.

He is still faint.

Let's not weaken him with
too much southern pleasure.

I was given to you? A bond slave!

But be of good comfort.

Was not Joseph sold
to a king by his brothers

and treated like a brother by that king?

Edith!

You will be happier if you forget her.

It is better to be the
servant of a kind master

than the slave of an impossible desire.

You're a scheming fox!

No. Merely a poor Saracen.

Not poor in goods,

but lacking the one bright
possession of the heart.

For Ilderim, the man,

she would be a possession of paradise.

For Saladin, the Sultan,

a Plantagenet at court

might unlock new realms of power in Europe.

You dare to imagine her as your wife!

I dare imagine myself
possessing none other.

Strange, is it not?

I, a Muslim, abandoning
the ways of my fathers,

whilst you, a Nazarene,

are engulfed in those ways.

If you think I'll remain
in this gilded swamp.

The talisman!

You even tried magic
to steal away my senses.

Magic? No.

That is but a pad of sleeping powder.

I know little of healing,

except what a warrior should know,

that sleep gives man the strength

to conquer his ills.

A warrior?

So you did come to spy on our camp!

I saw the power of the lion crumble.

I saw him as a man,

not wise, though brave,

a ruler who could not
even rule his own passions.

You saw our disunity.

You'll advise Saladin to
break the truce and attack.

No. The sword of Islam

will not endanger the Lady Edith

or the Plantagenets,

but there is a danger.

Come with me.

There you see the
fortress of the Castelains.

Today our foragers
found one of their prisoners

who had burrowed beneath the moat

and escaped the dungeon.

I believe you are now
well enough to see him.

He was near death,

but trying to make his way
to the camp of the crusaders,

to you.

Me?

[Speaking native language]

I don't know him.

But... yes.

He does bear a resemblance to...

you are Giles Amaury's bowman.

Ugh...

[Stammering]

Talk, man! Tell me!

He cannot talk. He has no tongue,

But they could not cut out his conscience.

My scribe has helped him

to set down his story in lingua franca,

your language of the west.

"Giles Amaury, Grandmaster
of the Castelains,

"planned to kill the king,

"gain command of the armies,

conquer Saladin, and
enslave the Syrian people."

I must take this man
to King Richard at once.

He would not survive the journey.

Neither would you, according to

your terms of banishment.

Then you'll go!

The prospect makes my heart dance,

that lady of sunbeams, but no.

It would violate the
trust of a million Muslims

if I risk myself again there.

Why? How could it?

I will show you.

Bow ye down before the light of the world,

the hand of the holy Prophet on earth.

Bow ye, bow ye to Saladin,

the king of kings.

And so, here is my manifesto!

I withdraw my forces from
this misdirected campaign,

and I withdraw my support
of the bloated ambitions

of Richard of England!

Go home and squat on your alps!

Good riddance!

England and France
will reap the glory alone!

Dear Richard, this glory
is a fantasy of yours.

Our forces are diminished.

Civil discords tear us apart.

The camp is now encircled
by the armies of Saladin.

Saladin will keep his
promise of single combat,

and you, good Philip,

you shall share in my victory.

I have troubles at home too long neglected.

And who should know that better than you?

It's no secret that your brother
John enjoys your absence.

Aye, my brother is a usurper.

I must return to England soon...

and shall.

I promise you that within a fortnight,

I'll have Saladin's seal
on a glorious treaty.

Couriers have brought word that
his emissary will arrive here today

to discuss arrangements.

I see I must speak bluntly.

France will not countenance any decision

reached by you and Saladin
on a neutral field of honor.

You prefer endless war?

I prefer a common cause to
the glory of any solitary man,

King or peasant!

And to that end, I demand a new leader.

The count of Montferrat
withdraws financial aid

until Sir Giles Amaury
is given active command!

Your Highness...

the Aaracen Ambassador arrives.

He must not see this disunity.

I'll receive him in my quarters.

This council has given no ruler the right

to negotiate in private!

My Liege...

I pledge myself to defend your rights.

Show these cavaliers to their quarters.

Let them not be disturbed

till their evening prayer is done.

Your Saracen excellency

will be entertained in
his highness' pavilion.

[Drums beating]

[Whimpering]

Welcome.

May joy bless thy name.

El Hajji, Your Magnificence.

Hajji...

That means pilgrim,

a perfect name for such
an instrument of peace.

All glory to thy tribe, El Hajji.

El Huntingdon.

El what?

Your visit, dear envoy, is timely.

My brethren and allies
are a tight, loyal band,

eager to do battle for me.

Only my prospect of
single combat with Saladin

has restrained their willing hands.

Aye, lord king... their loving hands.

Loving?

[Roswal barks]

[Speaking Gaelic]

You king of scoundrels!

Never trust a Scot.

By the saints, this is providence!

I've never needed you
more than now, Sir Kenneth.

Sir Kenneth?

His highness forgets

that I'm no longer a knight of the cross,

but a Saracen!

Nonsense! I've forgiven
you a thousand times.

Indeed. Still I must dress
like a Turk on parade

to run the gauntlet of your pikes and bows.

Hear me kindly, friend.

I need your strength as never before.

I'm beset with rebellions and treacheries

both here and in England.

My whole wretched fate rested on the hope

that Saladin would send an
ambassador to arrange terms.

That he did. I'm his ambassador.

No!

'Tis true, Sire,

And I'm obliged to give you his message

that you forfeited his offer of combat

by coddling traitors

who would break any honorable peace.

Such a joust now

could resolve nothing of any consequence.

The Scottish thistle!

[Huntingdon] However...

I bring a new offer from Saladin,

an offer of quite a different sort.

Believe me, I bargained shamefully

for permission to come to you.

This is the bargain,

that I must present Saladin's plea

for the Lady Edith to become his wife.

If she chooses him to wed,

he will give you a most honorable treaty,

an alliance of Islam and Christendom

against all powers of ambitious greed.

By Saint George.

Ha ha ha ha!

Ha ha ha ha!

Ilderim must have given the Sultan

a wondrous account of our dear Edith.

There was no Ilderim, no Saracen physician.

The man was Saladin!

Saladin?

Not Saladin.

I'm honor-bound to tell you

he breaks with many Saracen traditions.

If she goes to him,

it must be of her own free choice.

[Huntingdon] She will
retain her own religion

and be his only wife.

Edith! Edith, I--

You! You fetching his proposal to me!

It was the price I had
to pay for this visit.

I had faith that you would spurn his offer.

The decision will be made by the crown.

And not by her ladyship.

Then the Sultan will not accept it!

That is why I am his messenger.

He wants no choice
that is not of the heart.

He knew that in my presence,

Your heart must speak the truth,

so say it swiftly, my darling

say no to him, and my
honor will have been served.

Don't talk of honor, you evil renegade!

An alliance-- the Plantagenets

with the might of the Saracens.

Edith!

Oh, what manhood springs from Scotland!

A race of petty bargainers.

Silence! Let me think.

This isn't so bitter a fruit to swallow.

Has not the flower of Spain

been wed with Cavaliers of the east?

Well, I'm not for such a pleasing gentleman
as this one either, cousin.

I could think of a worse
ornament for a bedchamber.

Upon my soul, Edith

That you could change the world

to the shape of a lion.

By Saint Andrew

you hear my plea, or I'll--

Settle the matter with more bloodshed?

That's all you know.

As queen of Islam,

I could bring peace to half the world

while you blaze through the other half
flailing with your sword!

Edith! I--

You drink the blood

of a body that serves you.

Ha ha ha!

Peace. Be quiet. She loves you.

Skin a lynx, and you'll find a wench.

The deeper they claw, the more they love.

What is this?

The confession of a Castelain bowman,

the one I told you I suspected.

Ride to the fortress.

Call out the full company to
protect the Zorah road for me.

You'd best come now, Sir Giles.

Not yet.

There's a prize in this camp

for which both Saladin and Richard

might pay a kingdom.

Go on.

Prudence, you recall.

Whatever the Scot has dragged in,

I'll prove it a fraud.

You blow a great wind, Montferrat,

But nothing comes out of the horn.

Guard!

Bring me the master of the Castelains.

Very good, Sire.

[Man singing in native language]

[Singing]

The Count of Montferrat

petitions an audience with his highness,

conveying information
as to Sir Giles Amaury.

Pass, mi-lord.

[Barking]

Sire!

Would you believe in
the honesty of this animal

if he accused a molester of your banner?

I would.

[Barking]

[Growling]

Roswal!

[Speaking Gaelic]

I vowed once I'd try you for your guilt.

You have been judged!

Uh!

Lady Edith Plantagenet?

Yes.

We've come bearing gifts
from the Sultan Saladin

to the lady of light.

My gratitude to your master.

He shall always be a friend to remember,

but he cannot, in good chivalry,

present gifts to me.

Return to him with this message--

That I can never love any man

but Kenneth of Huntingdon.

[Sobbing]

[Muffled scream]

Fetch the Saracen horses.

We'll meet you at the
rear of this pavilion.

Very good, Sir Giles.

Mary help me, can't I even
trust the Norman guards?

I told you to find Giles Amaury.

We're not abating the
search, Your Highness--

Then go! Continue it!

Very good, Sire.

Kenneth of Huntingdon...

so shall you receive this blade

of a knighthood more glorious

than that which you have lost,

to be used in defense

of the cross and of the king

and never in human weakness
against any man unjustly.

His highness will now
give you the accolade.

With a sword, sire. With a sword.

Oh.

I dub you a Chevalier

of the House of Plantagenet.

Arise, Sir Kenneth,

my brave and faithful warrior.

Here are your spurs.

Now go to her in pride.

And bring her to heel.

Don't let her make a mush-head out of you,

Her talk of peace on earth
without the heat of the sword.

Mi-lord! The Saracen nobles

have departed the camp,

and the Lady Edith is nowhere to be found.

One report has it that they were seen

entering her tent with gifts.

Another, they were crossing
the valley, homeward.

That dog of darkness!

Who?

The Sultan of Araby!

The same trickster we knew as Emir Ilderim.

Sir Kenneth, where are you going?

To Saladin.

He'll need a wide moat

to make him a happy bridegroom.

This will ruin our
chances for the treaty, Sire.

Aye, it will.

Never trust a Scot.

I think I'll have a look
at the Saracen tent.

Fall ye down before the light of the world.

By my father's beard,

a Frank makes a poor ambassador.

[Speaking native language]

What have you done with her?

Who?

Oh, commander of the faithful

this lunatic fancies that
some Frankish woman

was stolen by men of Islam.

Your Saracens carried her away.

The Lady Edith? Impossible!

They have not returned here.

[Horn blowing]

Perhaps they come now.

Those are the heralds of King Richard.

This is a full honor.

Sound the welcome.

[Music playing]

Ilderim...

My friend... great Saladin...

I bring you shameful news.

Your Cavaliers were
murdered in my encampment

by Castelains, I'm certain.

They were stripped of their robes.

How else could Giles Amaury and his knights

have eluded my search?

And carried away your kinswoman, Sire?

To their fortress.

She'd be a precious hostage.

No! You could not overtake them

before they reach the castle.

Wait, I have a method of turning them back.

Send my command to the tribe of Hassam

to harry the Zorah
road with all their might!

The fortress will send out its
full force to protect the road.

All the better.

[Bird squawking]

[Whistles]

Take your company up the Zorah road

until you meet Sir Giles.

The castle will be ungarrisoned!

Except for a few pipes and bows.

Forward!

Hurry, you sluggard!

Keep apace!

Remove those Saracen robes,

or we'll be prey to our own Castelains!

There are Saracens ahead.

We must turn back and gain
the high road to the castle.

No. Our only hope is through the woodlands.

Kenneth.

And that is destiny.

He rode through your life,

a little storm so soon to be forgotten.

My love.

My queen.

You shall soon be in
our palace in Damascus.

No, Ilderim.

Ilderim could not aspire
to possess the moon,

but Saladin can.

These are my horizons,
and the moon is my banner.

The great lord Saladin

would never take what isn't his.

Everything upon this land of mine...

is mine,

but yet there is that chivalry

which I have tried to learn

from robbers who came
to steal an empire from me.

Yes you shall have your
moment, dearest one,

to bid farewell to your barbarians.

Cut down the Scot!

Identify us to the fortress.

We can waste no time at the moat.

He appears to have saved himself.

Raise the bridge!

Give them Giles Amaury!

I'll negotiate for us!

You have bowmen.

Put an arrow in the Castelain.

I have no bowmen.

Cut down the Castelain!

I beg of you.

Command your archers.

You want him to die!

It is in the hands of Allah,

each man's destiny.

Kenneth!

It is a wise man

who doesn't spread too much wisdom.

And an even wiser man
who knows what is not his.

But I have learnt so much.

I have learnt that I am a Saracen,

completely and forever.

[Speaking native language]

[Speaking native language]

Your days of war are done, Kenneth.

Take me to your highlands.

In full sail, my bonny.

No, you don't.

He goes with me to England

to fight for my throne.

War, war!

That's all you think of, Dick Plantagenet!

You burner! You pillager!

You poisoner of character.

Kenneth, I'll give you lands, titles,

I'll even give you this castle.

So far from home?

By Saint George.

By Saint Andrew.

Never trust a Scot.