Original subtitles

Ah!

My champions.

The flower of Norman chivalry.

The finest warriors in all Christendom, eh, Fitzurse?

Who vowed to er...

to crush the Saxons, did you not?

What mortal man could do...

...we did, sire.

Mortal?

- Mortal! - All would have gone well for us, sire,

were it not for the Black Knight.

And who is the Black Knight?

Eh?

Eh?

Damn this feast!

Oh, enjoy it, sire...

...as you watch the Saxon lords envy our Norman pleasures.

Bois Guilbert.

This same Saxon, Sir Wilfred of lvanhoe,

who so recently deposited you on the green grass of England.

Were you not in Austria with him?

I was, sire. Why?

With my lion-hearted brother, who was so ignobly betrayed?

I used all my strength in his defence, sire.

So much so, my Lord, that you abandoned the King of England to imprisonment

and returned home without him.

It was not I who betrayed him...

...sire.

Am I not fortunate, Fitzurse,

to be surrounded by such men of honour?

They're searching for lvanhoe.

Prince John wants him to attend the feast.

It seems that Saxon valour must be rewarded.

We cannot attend that feast.

They hate him and us.

What kind of Saxon queen will you make, lady,

if you submit at the first threat?

- Well then, I shall search for him. - You will not!

And who shall prevent me?

It was our victory today.

What victory there was, my Lord,

belongs to lvanhoe, not to you.

Enough!

Come!

Cedric!

I'll not have Rowena subjected to Norman chivalry!

Let her stay.

Saddle the horses!

The Lady Rowena will be here tonight.

And her intended husband.

This land is governed by a fool, de Bracy.

Who cements the very stones of his castle with spies.

Not John. Fitzurse.

If the man had any wit, he'd realise John will simply forbid this marriage.

No. It would be unwise to risk such provocation.

Unless he can find her a more suitable husband.

Fitzurse himself.

He'd never do that.

A Norman chancellor married to a Saxon princess.

Powerful allies to the King of a divided nation.

Fitzurse is twice her age!

True.

And war, politics and marriage belong to younger men.

You saved my life.

It wasn't that deep a wound.

Bois Guilbert would have murdered me.

- I'm in your debt. - You owe me nothing.

There are some who'd say you're a strange Jew, then.

There are some who say that the world balances on the shell of a giant tortoise.

But you and I know better.

Well, you put yourself at great risk for me today.

There was no chance to tell your father.

It will not matter to him.

And the lady you crowned Queen of love and beauty?

Rowena of Rotherwood.

We were childhood sweethearts.

And now?

Betrothed to Lord Athelstane.

A Saxon lord.

Oh.

Madam. Madam!

Madam, your face will sour the wine.

It matters not if one guest devours what is meant for all.

It's only two days' work for my falconers to catch so many sparrows.

Sparrows?

I count five so far, my Lord.

You will forgive us.

We're not used to such delicate fare.

Of course, I, too, prefer fat meat when in England.

To keep out the cold.

Do you plan to sprout one of these magnificent Saxon bushes for the same purpose?

I sincerely hope not.

His penitents might think they were confessing to Woden

or Thunor.

Who is it you people worship?

- The same God as you. - A-ha.

Who smiled more on your endeavours at the tourney than on ours.

- Yes, your son, the champion, I understand? - Where is Lord lvanhoe tonight?

It's such a pity he could not be here. We would be honoured

by the presence of one so famed for bravery... and for loyalty

as your son.

I have no son.

I dare say Lord Front de Boeuf will sleep easier for that.

You can have no objection if Torquilstone remains with Sir Reginald.

Let any man try and take it from me.

I will send him to hell in small pieces.

Now, now, our guests are terrified by our table manners. Let's not intimidate them further.

We accepted your hospitality in good faith.

Why do you abuse us?

I abuse you, Lord Cedric?

No, no, it is rather I who am aggrieved by your abuse.

Have you not just betrothed your ward Rowena to this man?

And what abuse is that?

The marriage of any noble, even a Saxon,

is within my gift

and requires my permission.

You've not asked for my permission.

And I shall not grant it.

The King has the right to forbid a marriage, but he is not the King.

If we await Richard's consent, we may never marry.

Then we await nothing.

We summon a priest to wed you tomorrow at Rotherwood.

Not even John will dare break the laws of God.

Drink this.

Urgh!

Rebecca.

What are you doing?

- I'm tending a wounded man. - That is not what you're doing!

Not with the... soft eyes and the foolish smiles

and the little caresses.

- Tending? That is offering yourself! - How dare you!

How dare I? Because you are my daughter and I love you.

Because I expected more of you.

Because I thought I knew you better.

Why? Because he is a wicked Christian?

No!

Yes.

Because he is a good, honest, kind Christian,

and so, very possibly, worthy of your love.

And that will make it all the more painful for you when it comes to nothing.

As it must.

Do you think I don't know that?

- Then why? - Because I have no choice.

What should I do, Father?

Cut out the heart God gave me so I feel neither joy nor sorrow?

- No. - Become a shadow,

mimicking acts of compassion and love for fear of the consequences of the real thing?

- It doesn't have to be like that. - Oh, it does!

Look at me.

Am I not beautiful?

Am I not blessed with intelligence?

- Do I not strive for virtue and honour? - Rebecca...

And yet in the eyes and heart of every Christian man,

I am as a leper because I am a Jew.

- Are you become ashamed of your faith? - No.

And never shall.

But if I fear pain,

then I should fear love.

And if I fear love,

then I truly shall become a leper.

And I will not do that.

They walked out of my feast.

Your Grace, we cannot afford an uprising, not now.

Sire.

You might kill two birds with one stone.

Betroth the Lady Rowena to a Norman lord.

You'll not only give honour to the Saxons,

but also prevent all thoughts of uprising.

Bridges might be built.

And was it beyond your wit to suggest this, hm?

- Are you married, de Bracy? - A widower, sire.

Sire, you can't!

Fitzurse...

Is a Norman married to a Saxon to be trusted as Chancellor?

Er... forgive me, sire.

My chagrin stems from the fact that I did not think of the idea myself.

Open up!

- Open the door! - Quick, hide. Norman soldiers.

What is it that you want? Who lives here?

Only my family.

What is it you want?

Get out of the way!

Over here.

Dear God, de Bracy, you're even more of an idiot than I thought.

This woman, this Lady Rowena,

she doesn't even want to marry one of her own.

What the devil makes you think she'd want to leap into bed with you?

Or is her not wanting to part of the fun?

- I shall be an honourable husband to her. - Oh, I'm sure you will.

But a hated one.

She'll lock her door against you from the first night.

That or cuckold you with the nearest kitchen boy.

That's his business, not yours.

Get out! He's drunk!

No, no, perhaps he's right.

God knows there have been enough battlefields in my life without making one by my own hearth.

What would he know? The only women he's had were taken by force.

The Lady Rowena might well come to love you.

Do you really think so?

Pigs might fly!

Make her love you.

Be valiant, be noble.

Perform heroic deeds for her.

I've never known you to play the fool, Bois Guilbert. Heroic deeds!

Tomorrow, when they're on the road home through the forest,

earn her gratitude by rescuing her from outlaws.

Hmm? What outlaws?

Us, you fool!

Why wait till tomorrow?

Why don't we just go and take her? Now, huh?

In fact, since she'd hate either of us, why don't I just have her?

Come on!

She's promised to de Bracy!

And besides, her consent will be much more satisfying.

- Well, did you find him? - Ivanhoe's not in these parts, my Lord.

- We couldn't find him. - Damn!

Argh!

Thank you. The horse, please.

Why did I allow you to persuade me to such foolishness?

Father!

lvanhoe was a knight of King Richard.

A noble Saxon whose friends will also be regarded kindly

if Richard claims his throne again.

Who is it that teaches women to twist logic to their own purpose?

Farewell, Nathan.

You'll live to regret this, de Bracy.

It's a harmless deception.

By whom?

We capture the fair Rowena, I quietly slip away...

And then you return like a hero to rescue her.

But who will guard her virtue while you're gone?

He who has ravished his way from Jerusalem to Paris.

Don't be ridiculous. He devised the plot to help me.

And when did Sir Brian de Bois Guilbert help any but himself?

You may bring your own woman if you choose.

But there are many under my roof who will serve as well.

Plenty to do. I run a good home farm and the best still room in the shire.

And if you like, I'll find you another fool.

Why would she want two fools under one roof?

I wasn't talking about you.

No, neither was I.

Ha, ha, ha!

The chase is on.

- Damn wheel! - Nothing to worry about.

Stay there.

There! Do I look like an outlaw?

You look like the barbarian you are.

Don't let him turn a small adventure into mass slaughter.

Oh, and he tells me that I must guard against you abducting the Lady Rowena.

I have no interest in Rowena of Rotherwood.

Uncle! Can Gurth ride in the carriage with me?

He stays where he is.

- What are we going to do? - I don't know.

Whoa!

- Good sirs. - Isaac of York.

A poor man in need of some help.

Prince John's moneylender.

All right... a man who will pay in gold for a small service.

Keep your gold.

It is your father.

Say nothing of me.

Rebecca, find out about Gurth.

- Mend their wagon. - You don't own me any more.

Oh, yes, I do!

- Now, come on! - No...

I'll do nothing for you.

Sir...

we would all be indebted to you.

For the lady

but not for you.

Is that his daughter?

I don't know, my Lady.

More, a little more. Just a little higher.

Nearly there.

Nearly...

Move! Move!

I can't do it on my own.

- Higher. - A little bit...

Up, up...

Higher, higher now.

Just a little bit...

Yes, yes, higher.

Come on. A little...

Yes! Yes!

Gurth, thank you.

And now we may travel safely on to York.

Athelstane!

Ha, ha!

Come here!

Get her out!

Argh!

No!

Get off!

Fang!

Fang!

Tie them up.

Here.

Here, take this.

Not a bad way to make a living. Ha, ha!

Go on then, man.

Go!

You're no more an outlaw than I am!

No!

Hold him! - Stop! We agreed - no killing.

De Bracy. - Lady Rowena.

What in God's name are you doing, de Bracy?

De Bracy!

I use all my wits to win you a wife.

Do you, Sir Brian? I will not be a party to this madness any longer.

Oh, will you not?

Well then, now that you have called the tune, everyone here will have to pay the piper!

Let them go, man.

And have them bleat to Prince John about the foolishness of his future Chancellor?

Dead sheep don't bleat.

Nor do they tell where they keep their gold.

We'll hold these good people as our guests.

We'll take them to Torquilstone.

Go away!

Worthy Father,

I am bewildered by the forest.

All I ask is a little charity.

Go away.

Do you know who I am?

I don't care who you are!

I'm a poor hermit. I take charity, I don't give it.

Then will you sell me food and drink?

Aye, maybe.

Venison?

Now you've seen it, you're as guilty as me.

We'll both hang if you tell.

So, no more questions.

Eat the King's venison.

Thank the Good Lord for his providence.

The Good Lord provides other food than venison.

Aye. But none as tasty.

- Worth hanging for? - Listen, virtuous beggar.

If I taste anything a Norman wants, I risk hanging.

If I farm land a Norman wants to farm, I risk hanging.

If a Norman steps in my shadow when he wants to walk in sunlight, I risk hanging.

So if I'm going to hang, it'll be with a full belly, and sod the lot of them.

Was it thus in Richard's day?

Don't know. I can't remember him ever being here.

No. There was a time round these parts when men left each other pretty much at peace.

Before Prince John made thieves and beggars of us all.

Prince John?

Where have you been?

Palestine.

Then you're one of the reasons for our benighted condition, aren't you?

You're a benighted monk to rail against a holy crusade!

Holy crusade!

Richard empties the coffers to pay for it and John taxes us to the bone to fill them again.

Oh, you can tell they sprung from the same womb, all right.

Nothing here to tell me the reliefs, the immersements, fines for favours.

How can I know what to levy, hmm?

Incompetence.

Conrad de Montfitchet.

My Lords.

- Fitzurse. - Montfitchet.

How long have you been in England?

Since dawn yesterday. I came straight here.

What I know he knows.

The Grand Master of the Knights Templar is in France.

He means to sail for England as soon as the wind is fair.

Why such urgency?

The Grand Master wishes it to be known

that he would look favourably upon a conjunction of your power and his,

for the better governance of certain lands across the sea and of this realm of England,

and of our own order,

for our mutual profit.

Prosperity.

A noble endeavour.

Lucas de Beaumanoir has the ear of the Pope.

No prince has so wise a counsellor.

His Grace prostrates himself before the power, spiritual and temporal, of His Holiness,

just as he reveres and respects

the powers, spiritual and military, of the Grand Master.

- For which the Grand Master... ...needs Your Grace's help.

His crusade against Saladin was a disaster.

By the fall of Acre, he saw his Templar Knights, holy warrior monks,

forsake their vows, become debauched, corrupt, profane even.

His new crusade is to purge our own order.

What is there in my own house which so offends him?

The behaviour of our Templar Knight, Bois Guilbert.

Your champion.

It's a matter of grave concern.

And those nearest to him may, alas, be thought tainted with the same poison.

- Really? - I tell you, sire, as a friend,

of all his qualities, Lucas de Beaumanoir is not best known for his forgiveness.

Sir...

...the captain says he won't sail till the weather opens up, sir.

Probably not till tomorrow.

Pray.

'Tis the power of sorcery that raises storms against God's holy purpose.

And the power of prayer can calm them.

Pray.

What are we going to do?

- Rescue them. - How?

We don't even know where they've gone.

I do. Torquilstone, they said.

So, a fool, a swineherd and a broken dog are going to lay siege to a castle?

Back for more, Master Gurth?

Oh, no.

- You've brought your reinforcements. - Are these your friends?

- I wouldn't say that. - Planning a siege on your own, are you?

- Don't need your help. Yes, we do.

Everyone we know has been captured.

The least we can do is show you the way, eh?

Here, let me take him.

What have we here, my precious?

More chickens for the pot.

- Will he be all right? - Aye, his pride's wounded more than his flesh.

- You old faker! - Where are we going?

- To get a friar. - A priest?

What?

I know that horse.

Come on.

Tuck!

- What do you want? - Who's with you?

He was lost.

I told him where to go and offered him hosp...

I gave him a drink.

Fine friends you keep, priest.

Do you know who I am?

Aye, I do.

Argh!

A drunken sot who needs sobering.

You whore's son!

Tuck, in.

Oh, aye.

I think not.

Yaaah!

You bastard, Locksley!

- We need your strength. - You bastards!

What about him? - You bastards!

Yeah, maybe.

Wait!

Get off me!

- No! - On your feet!

Get off him!

Put them in the Great Hall!

Your prize, de Bracy!

Enjoy her.

- And I have my prize. - No!

He may look scrawny, but I'll wager there's more flesh on him than meets the eye.

Get in there!

Strip him and start the fire!

And how will you deal with me?

You have no business here, you fly-blown hag!

Get back to that dung heap you inhabit!

Don't say a word.

Sir Desdecado.

Kill me.

I shall.

But my death will not serve your purpose.

And why should I not kill a traitor?

Because he'll know the truth.

Kill me and you confess your own sin.

The truth shall die with you!

So that's how it is.

Urfried, take her upstairs.

Where is my father?

I was mistress here once.

The men would come into the kitchen and throw game birds and hens into my arms.

"Look after that," they'd say.

And I would... rip the feathers

...from their skins...

...ready for the fire.

Oh, yes.

I'll look after you.

I left them in the forest, sire.

Where are they now?

Torquilstone, sire.

Whose idea was this?

Hmm?

My Lord de Bracy.

Along with Front de Boeuf and Bois Guilbert.

I thought you should know, sire.

I shall execute them.

Hmm, I shall impale their heads on spikes

and watch as the ravens feast on their eyes.

Is it really so serious, sire?

- It might be possible... - Serious? No.

No, it's not serious. Two noble earls abducted by my champions. Are you mad?

What do you think the rest of the Saxon swine will do? Sit on their fat arses and watch?

When your brother hears of this...

...he'll use it against you.

King Richard's in England?

One more word from you

and you shall watch as I eat your liver for breakfast.

Be assured of my loyalty, sire.

When I want your loyalty, I shall buy it.

Sire, your papers are burning.

Do something, Winkelbrand, or you may burn with the rest of us.

Prince John will hear of this.

No, he won't.

He depends upon me

for money.

You're not the only rich Jew in England.

But you're the only one in my castle.

A slow fire!

No smoke!

I don't want you sleeping in the fumes.

- Nay, nay... - Come on, wake up! Stay awake!

- Nay... - Nay, nay, nay!

What is this mumbo-jumbo?

Despite appearances, madam, there was no harm intended.

No harm? You ambush and take six innocent people by force

and you tell me that you meant no harm?

Well, in God's name, de Bracy, tell me what you did intend.

To win your hand in marriage.

Last night, Prince John forbad your union with Lord Athelstane

and proposed that I should wed you.

A Norman-Saxon alliance.

So, yet again, I'm to be forced into a marriage of convenience.

Madam, I will take nothing that is not freely given.

Lady Rowena,

it is well-known that you have no love for Lord Athelstane.

But there are Norman lords who would please you even less.

Consent to marry me

and you'll be treated with kindness and with great respect.

I should strive to earn your love.

Believe it or not, I have always loved virtue and honour.

And when both shine from one so fair, I...

Your courtship has had a poor start, Sir Maurice.

But is it beyond redemption?

Keep Lord Athelstane and Lord Cedric safe.

- How many men do you think we'll lose? - More than we want to, for sure.

We don't even know if they're still alive.

I know Front de Boeuf of old.

He'll lay waste to the countryside just for the pleasure of it.

And by dawn, he'll have murdered all the prisoners.

So, we lead an attack.

What, us against them?

I'd sooner break into the Tower of London!

- You're not drinking, Tuck? - No.

- Not any more. - We attack at nightfall.

No.

We wait until dawn.

There's nothing to be gained if they're all dead.

How can we know that?

We get someone inside the castle.

Where have you been?

My horse broke his leg, my Lord.

I've already told you where my money is.

You have, yes.

Then what is it you want from me?

You Jews always have more than you say.

Aaargh! Argh!

Have mercy on me!

Did Our Lord Jesus Christ beg for mercy when they crucified him?

Huh?

Did the Jews listen?

Five thousand marks is all I have in the world!

It was only two last time.

And three more when you return my daughter to me unharmed.

I can simply go to your house and take the money.

And Bois Guilbert has his own plans for your whore of a daughter.

No!

No... Wait!

Leave us.

Do you know how many godless harlots like you I've had?

Give me one reason why I should treat you differently.

Reason is a gift from God to civilised men.

It has no place in this room.

Do what you please. You may abuse and destroy my body as you will

but you will never touch my soul.

Oh, so that's your game.

And who will touch your soul, lady?

My Lord of lvanhoe?

Would you abandon your own survival so easily...

...if his depends on yours?

Do you really think

lvanhoe would have me buy his freedom with my corruption?

Are you so far damned?

Aye, lady, I am.

And I ask forgiveness

from no-one.

Admit it - you never sought to find me a wife.

Didn't I?

Only to spite Lord lvanhoe.

Who's been whispering in your ear?

Someone has sent us a letter.

Who?

Read it.

There'll be no cowards' talk of simply freeing prisoners.

We'll set a ransom and get what we can.

Then I'll send them back with their throats opened and their tongues cut out.

God, but you're a damn fool, man.

And you are in my castle,

guarded by my men,

and my word holds good here against you, Prince John, King Richard,

or the Devil himself.

"And we demand that you restore Cedric of Rotherwood,

Lady Rowena, Lord Athelstane of Coningsburgh and the Jews of York to us forthwith,

or accept the consequences."

Signed Wamba the fool and Gurth the swineherd.

I'll send them an answer.

When I first came here, Athelstane,

I must have been...

six, seven.

The logs in this hearth would blaze at Yuletide to light the whole room.

What about Rowena?

This was a great Saxon house.

There was a young maid.

- Ulrika. - What about Rowena?

Will they ransom her?

Or will they use her for themselves?

We children, we'd... we'd steal goblets of mead from the table.

- And he'd put his great arms round us. - Cedric!

I seek Gurth the swineherd and Wamba the fool.

You need have no fear. I come unarmed.

I am Joseph, Lord Front de Boeuf's steward,

sent by my master to give you this.

And to say that you may send in a priest tomorrow morning

to give the rest of your Saxon friends the last rites.

In nomine Patris et Filii et Spiritus Sancti,

requiescat in pace.

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