Original subtitles

NARRATOR: You're about to see a story of bold knights and beautiful maidens.

A story of love and hatred and prejudice.

Though our story is old,

the love, the hatred and the prejudice are ever new.

(YELLS)

(GRUNTS)

Holy God of Abraham, spare me.

Silence if you value your life.

Holy Father, I beg you.

Silence.

Follow me.

This way.

You see? They've been lying in wait for you.

Where is he? Where is this Jew?

Well? He's gone, sire.

Gone? Disappeared.

Imbecile. You let him get away.

They're Normans.

Saxons or Normans, what does it matter to me?

Do I rejoice because the brave Normans cross the Channel

and defeat the brave Saxons? What's the difference?

They both treat us like dogs. You call them brave knights?

I call them thieves.

A rich merchant, I fear, is fair game.

No matter. You saved my life and I am forever in your debt.

(HORSE NEIGHS)

(ISAAC SIGHS)

If you keep to this road any longer, sir, no one can help you.

I shall be lost otherwise.

I know this country. Where are you bound?

To Ashby. The great tournament.

Why, then we could travel together.

Ah!

May I ask who you are that I may thank for my deliverance?

Merely a poor pilgrim returning from the Holy Land.

Ah.

Come, to waste anymore time here would be dangerous.

There. There lies Ashby.

ISAAC: Uh-huh.

The blessings of Jacob be upon you, pilgrim.

How am I going to repay you?

I want nothing. You shall have a horse

and armor for the tournament.

(EXHALES)

But how did you know that I...

(CHUCKLING) I've seen it at once.

Beneath your robe, the chain mail of a knight and the golden spurs.

You shall have everything you need.

Then I must warn you, sir, that both horse and armor

may be lost in the jousting.

Ah, that's impossible.

Your lance, good youth, will be as powerful as the rod of Moses.

(PLAYING FANFARE)

(PEOPLE CHEERING)

(PEOPLE LAUGHING)

(YELLS)

My little bucklehead.

(CHUCKLING)

(CROWD CHEERING)

Norman dogs.

Careful, master. Hmm?

They say Prince John has ten thousand ears.

Well, let him hear me then. I'll say it to his face.

(PEOPLE CHATTERING)

Who is that?

That's Cedric of Rotherwood, a Saxon lord.

I meant the lady.

Oh, that's his ward, the Lady Rowena,

from the royal line of Alfred the Great.

She is beautiful.

If a Saxon can be called beautiful.

(TRUMPETS BLOWING)

The challengers, Reginald Front-de-Boeuf!

(ALL CHEERING)

Maurice de Bracy!

(YELLS)

(ALL CHEERING)

Brian Guilbert!

(ALL CHEERING)

(CROWD MURMURING)

Listen to the crowd.

Prince John is well accepted here today.

He would do well to take over the throne now

before King Richard gets back from the Holy Land.

Richard dies the moment he returns.

(CROWD CLAPPING)

Fitzurse.

Yes, Your Grace?

Are we ready to begin?

There is still the choosing of a queen for the tournament, sire.

Hmm.

If it would please Your Highness, my daughter, perhaps?

No, it might appear unseemly to announce your daughter

before the tournament has yet begun.

Let the gallant knight who conquers the field here today make the choice.

(HORSES NEIGHING)

These three noble challengers will undertake all comers.

Each challenger may be selected by touching his shield with a lance.

If the shield is touched with the reverse end of the lance,

then sharp points will not be used.

But if the sharp tip of the lance touches the shield,

then the combat is understood to be with sharp weapons.

If any knight should break the lance

of all three challengers here before me,

then Prince John will declare that knight

the victor in this day's combat.

The Prince wants the victor to choose the Queen.

Prince John has declared

the victor will have the honor of choosing our Queen of Love and Beauty.

(ALL CHEERING)

Normans. All three, Normans.

Is there a Saxon to meet them?

Tomorrow. I fight tomorrow.

(CHUCKLES)

Are you looking for someone?

Your Highness, no sharp points will be used. Hmm?

How disappointing.

(CROWD LAUGHING)

(LAUGHS)

Go on.

(CHEERING)

(SCREAMS)

(CROWD EXCLAIMING)

Is there no one here? No one to stop them?

Tomorrow.

(CHEERING)

(ALL EXCLAIM)

Who is he?

Look again, master. Hmm?

Perhaps you should ask, who was he?

A Saxon?

Without question.

(SIGHING) Have we no better than this?

We have, my lord. His name is Ivanhoe.

Your son, master.

I have no son.

You may have disowned him, but he's still your flesh and blood

and worthy of his Saxon name.

He is worthy of scorn and nothing else.

Oh, what a disgrace. Oh, what a pity.

My son ran off and left the city.

(CROWD CHEERING)

(GRUNTS)

(SCREAMS)

Next! Who is next?

(YELLS)

(LAUGHING)

Your Grace, there are none left now who will meet the challengers.

Is it possible? Will they let these Norman invaders take the day?

The very honor of England is at stake.

Surely, you...

How annoying that we should finish so early. So quickly. And yet...

And yet how comforting to know that

the three strongest knights on this field

are loyal only to you, Your Majesty.

(CROWD CHEERING)

It's him. It's him. The pilgrim.

Ah! Desdichado.

The Disinherited Knight. Welcome.

You have your choice.

However, the outcome will remain the same.

I am disappointed.

Would that I trade places with you, Front.

Never. This one is mine.

(CROWD CHEERING)

A Saxon. I'll wager he's a Saxon.

May I hope that you will now give me the opportunity?

What a shame, Brian.

Now you'll never get your chance.

(CROWD CHEERING)

Who is he? Find out who he is.

Have you confessed yourself this morning that you peril your life so frankly?

The sharp end. They will use the points.

Prepare yourself then.

Look your last upon the sun.

(ALL EXCLAIMING)

(CROWD CHEERING)

(CROWD EXCLAIMING)

Hold! You are allowed the lance only.

You are not allowed the sword.

You, Disinherited Knight.

We proclaim you the champion of this day's tournament.

(CROWD CHEERING)

We shall meet again tomorrow when there are none to part us.

(CROWD APPLAUDING)

Brave knight, we commend your valor.

And we award you this valiant steed to match your courage.

(CROWD CHEERING)

(WHISTLING)

You call yourself the Disinherited One?

By what other name shall we know you?

As a stranger in our land, you may require assistance in your choice of a queen.

Let us say to you that the fair Alicia

is considered the first in beauty as in place.

Would you present your lance?

You may now indicate your choice.

(CROWD CHEERING)

ANNOUNCER: Largesse.

Largesse to the gallant knight.

Long live the Queen of Love and Beauty.

ALL: Long live the Queen of Love and Beauty.

Long live the Queen of Love and Beauty.

Long live the Queen of Love and Beauty.

You can't just waste your whole life in bitterness, Father.

Bitterness? You speak of bitterness?

What would you have me be?

Our lord and master, Prince John,

demands twice the contribution I gave him last month.

Contribution.

(SCOFFS) It's a ransom.

But surely King Richard will return to England and resume his throne.

What difference does that make to us, Richard or John?

In this wicked country we shall always be persecuted.

No. All Christians are not the same.

Think of the gallant knight who fought today.

Ah! Now there was a brave and noble youth.

I'll wager that pilgrim was Jewish.

(CHUCKLES)

Yes, Beaslin?

There's a stranger at the door, sire.

He wishes to speak to you.

Does he look dangerous?

I don't believe so. He wears the garments of a pilgrim.

Ah.

Veil yourself.

My friend.

Sir, forgive my intrusion.

I'm here to pay my debt to you.

Debt? What debt? I owe you my life.

Not at all.

My daughter, Rebecca.

I am honored.

You owe me nothing. You've paid me back in full today at the tournament.

May I offer you a goblet of wine?

Nevertheless, I have brought your horse

and I have here the price of the armor.

Keep them. They're yours.

I feel I must at least pay you something to...

My father owes you a far deeper kindness

than any steeds or arms could pay.

Please, let us look upon it as our debt to you for his life.

If that is your wish.

Your wine?

Forgive me, please. I must prepare myself for tomorrow's encounter.

Sir, you've been far too generous.

I am honored to have met you.

Thank you. I bid you good night.

(HOOTING)

Oh! You frightened me.

Wait, I will leave and come back again.

(HOOTING)

There. Are you frightened now?

Tell me. Tell me at once.

Who was the mysterious knight?

Who was he? Who?

Oh, Wamba, please, don't play games with me.

What did he say?

His voice could not be heard.

His face, his eyes, his nose, his mouth, could not be seen.

Why? He wasn't there.

Oh, Wamba. Gone. Into the night.

The good knight gone into the good night.

I think it best.

Best?

Would not Ivanhoe, if he were here,

would not Ivanhoe be jealous of a brave new champion?

He would have no reason. I am faithful to Ivanhoe.

Mmm?

What if Cedric marries you to the noble hog, Athelstane?

Never. He will insist.

And I will refuse.

Hold!

Wamba!

Well?

What did she say?

Did you talk to her?

She hasn't forgotten me?

Well, tell me she hasn't forgotten me.

The lady is fair. She would have a prayer.

For me?

For the brave knight who won the day.

Are they the same? What is your name?

(EXCLAIMING) Begone, you knave. Begone.

(TRUMPETS BLOWING)

(CROWD CHEERING)

The Queen of Love and Beauty shall be guided to her throne

by our royal liege, Prince John.

Where is Athelstane?

Master, that is a question.

Is he getting ready for the combat?

He is a guest of the noble Lord Gurtog.

When I saw them last they were eating venison, an enormous beast.

Be it known, it is forbidden to thrust with a sword.

You may strike only.

A mace or battle ax may be used at pleasure,

but the dagger is forbidden.

Any knight unhorsed may renew the combat on foot.

Any knight who breaks the rules of this tournament

will be subjected to public ridicule and stripped of his arms!

Glory to the brave!

Very well. Let them begin.

(CROWD CHEERING)

(SCREAMS)

(CHEERING)

(CHEERING)

(SHOUTING)

Beware!

You may stop the combat at any moment.

Stop it? By the light of heaven, I will not.

He gained his prize yesterday. Let the others now have their turn.

(YELLS)

Yield.

Hold. Stop the conflict.

(CROWD CHEERING)

(CHEERING)

Honor to the brave!

Glory to the brave!

(CROWD GASPS)

Honor to the brave!

Glory to the brave!

ALL: Honor to the brave!

Glory to the brave!

Honor to the brave!

His head must be bare to accept the chaplet.

(GASPS)

Ivanhoe!

(SIGHS)

The chaplet, my lady.

I bestow upon you, Sir Knight,

this chaplet as a gift of honor for this day's victory.

And upon these fearful wounds

no worthier wreath of chivalry could ever be placed.

(CROWD GASPS) ROWENA: Ivanhoe!

Help him.

Help him.

Your own son. Will you do nothing?

My son has left my house.

He has deserted my country.

He has forsaken the Saxon cause.

He is no son of mine.

(CRYING)

We must help him quickly, Father.

How?

Take him to our house.

But he is a Christian. By our laws, we can't deal with him except in commerce.

He is gravely wounded and, by our hearts, we cannot refuse him.

Think. If he should die in our care...

He will not die unless we abandon him.

And, if so, we must then answer for his blood to God.

Quickly. His enemies are all about.

Wilfred of Ivanhoe.

There is more to this than one day's battle.

If Ivanhoe has returned from the Holy Land,

can King Richard be far behind?

Well, let him come.

We'll crown his brother before Richard can gather his forces.

The devil take Richard and welcome to him.

I, Brian Guilbert, make you this solemn promise.

I shall meet this Wilfred of Ivanhoe in mortal combat

and send him to eternity.

Get back there. Get back. Get back.

Who is it? Who is it that bears him away?

Someone far kinder than we, Your Grace.

Onward.

(LAUGHING)

My lady.

(GROANING)

(BREATHING HEAVILY)

You.

My father and I,

we brought you here to care for your wounds.

We have special herbs,

ways of curing wounds, although we never inflict them.

(PANTING)

Herbs?

Secret preparations handed down to us since the days of Solomon.

You should be able to bear armor again within eight days.

You may rest at our home in York until your health is restored.

We leave in the morning.

Is there not someone else here in Ashby

who could look after me until I...

None stepped forward today.

My dear, noble maiden, I...

No. I am not a noble.

I am but a poor Jewess.

Is it our race, then?

Is that why you do not wish to travel with us?

I have no wish to inconvenience you.

I accept your service gratefully.

Rest now. I'll leave you.

Your Majesty.

Rise.

Did you find him?

At the house of Isaac, the Jew of York.

They plan to take him to York in the early morning.

Oh, that was a stroke of good luck.

I shall meet with Wilby, Forbes, and Witherstone at York within the week.

All my forces will be gathered there to challenge my brother.

You're traveling alone?

I must for the moment.

You may retire now. Oh, and, Phillippe...

Your Majesty? A good night's work.

Thank you, Your Majesty.

(MEN LAUGHING)

(CHATTERING)

(LAUGHING)

Well. Where is she? Where is our queen of the tournament?

She...

Yes? She is your ward, is she not?

Where is the Lady Rowena?

She is exhausted by today's events.

She begs leave to decline your courteous invitation.

Hmm. We are not accustomed to such a refusal from our appointed queens.

It is traditional that they attend.

Your customs are not our customs.

Well. Perhaps you'll not object if we drink a beaker

to the champion of this passage of arms.

To your son, Wilfred of Ivanhoe.

I cannot drink.

PRINCE JOHN: To your own son?

He deserted us.

He left his house, his country, to fight in foreign lands

with your brother, King Richard.

Then let us hope my brother holds him in more esteem than you.

(LAUGHING)

I cannot forgive him. I will not forgive him.

A willful youth who refuses the commands and customs of his fathers.

I fill my cup to Cedric, himself.

This ward of yours, the Lady Rowena.

Yes.

A rose of loveliness.

And, I trust, a jewel of wealth?

CEDRIC: A Saxon of large possessions.

It is my intention that she marry this gallant and noble knight, Athelstane,

the last of the royal line of Saxons.

PRINCE JOHN: Ah.

But then she is a minor, is she not?

And she is therefore at our disposal in marriage.

Indeed.

What do you think, De Bracy?

I am told you are attracted to the lady?

Would you find it pleasing to take her as your bride?

If her lands are to my liking.

I will hold myself bound to Your Highness' wishes.

The day my ward marries a Norman will be that Norman's last day on earth.

Hold. Sit down. Both of you.

We have invited these honored guests here this evening

and they shall remain honored guests.

We have offered a toast to Cedric of Rotherwood

and now, we pray you, name us some Norman in return.

It is a hard task, for the conquered,

to sing the praises of his conqueror.

Yet I will name a Norman, even though he led my only son astray.

He is still the best of your unfortunate race.

I drink this goblet to the health of King Richard, the Lion-Hearted.

ALL: Long live King Richard.

And now I hope you will excuse us. We have remained here long enough.

Up, noble Athelstane.

We bid you good night.

I'm afraid, Your Majesty, that the Saxon dogs have retreated in triumph.

It isn't possible, is it?

Could Richard be back in England again?

What does it matter?

You have the services here of Maurice de Bracy, Front-de-Boeuf,

and my own humble sword.

Enough for an army.

(LAUGHING)

Here is my toast and solemn pledge.

To Prince John, our next King of England.

ALL: Prince John!

ALL: (CHANTING) Prince John! Prince John! Prince John! Prince John!

Prince John! Prince John! Prince John! Prince John!

(EXCLAIMING)

Where is she now? Where is the Lady Rowena?

Weeping.

Weeping?

(SNIFFLING)

Come. We must leave at once.

Would you go without your son?

Ivanhoe has chosen to go his own way.

So be it. He chose...

He's better fitted now to do the juggling tricks of the Normans

than uphold the honor of his English ancestry.

Who was it that defeated the Normans at the tournament?

Silence. Not another word.

We leave at once.

Your Highness. Yes.

This arrived this morning from France.

No!

What is it?

(SIGHS)

"The devil is unchained. Take heed."

Richard.

He's escaped from France. He's back in England.

We mustn't lose a moment, Your Highness.

Draw your troops together at York,

and meet whatever force he has head on.

Your Highness.

At once.

(HORSE NEIGHS)

My friends.

My friends, we ride for York.

York?

We join Prince John within the fortnight.

For what purpose?

For the purpose of facing King Richard.

At last.

York is only a three-day journey. We have plenty of time.

Of course.

You shall be my guests at Torquilstone on the way.

Tankards and venison enough to fill even your fat bellies.

What do you say?

(SCREAMS)

(LAUGHING)

(YELLS)

(MAN SHOUTING INDISTINCTLY)

(INAUDIBLE)

Here. What are you doing? Why did you stop?

Bandits.

Bandits? There are no bandits.

Yeah, in the woods maybe. We're leaving.

You can't do that. You can't leave us here.

No? We're going.

No, stop. You can't take those horses.

Those are my property. Thieves!

Thieves!

Here. Drink this.

There. Rest now. Rest.

(BREATHING HEAVILY)

They were hired to take us to York.

They've got my money. Why should they care?

We are deserted.

Oh, God of Abraham, what have I done?

Why must they smite us so?

REBECCA: Father, look.

May God make them merciful.

Hold.

I greet you warmly, sir.

Trusting you're in good health.

Who are you? Speak plainly, infidel.

I'm Isaac of York.

I hired a guard of men to escort us to York,

but they've deserted us as you can see.

Why?

They say there are bandits in the forest. But, rumor, that's all.

I beg you to let us travel under your protection.

Dogs of infidels. Out of the way.

Sir, may I speak, please?

We have someone here, an old person who is gravely ill.

I beg you to let this sick person be transported with care

under your protection.

It is no concern of ours.

Wait.

If this poor person is truly in peril of life,

and if these two kind and earnest people cannot defend themselves,

well, then we must in all charity give them help.

So be it. They may travel in the rear.

(ALARM SOUNDING)

(YELLING)

What is it? What's the alarm?

LIEUTENANT: No alarm, sir. All is ready for you at the castle.

We only wish to inform you there is a party of Saxons in the forest there below.

FRONT: Do you know them?

Cedric of Rotherwood, the Lady Rowena

and the noble knight, Athelstane.

How large is the party?

Ten or eleven. The servants are not armed.

My good friend, De Bracy.

I wager that the hour has struck.

What?

It is time for us to deliver your wife.

Your wife, De Bracy, is awaiting you.

What was that?

What? I hear nothing.

Huh!

(YELLING)

(GRUNTS)

(GROANS)

Forgive the intrusion, my lady. I am pleased to announce,

that you are now the guest of my good friend, Front-de-Boeuf.

I would sooner, sir, go with bandits.

But, indeed, that is what you are.

De Bracy? Are you certain that you want to marry this sharp tongue?

(LAUGHING)

Well, what have we here?

BRIAN: I think, perhaps, that we have caught more than one bird on this occasion.

FRONT: An infidel.

And beautiful beyond belief.

We can do you no harm, sir.

We have an old woman here who needs our care.

She shall have it, I promise you.

Dogs. Norman dogs.

Barbarians. But surely they will feed us?

(SWORDS CLANGING)

(MEN SHOUTING)

Stop.

What is it? What affliction does this old hag bear?

I would not go close enough to find out.

(IVANHOE COUGHING)

Set her down. Set her down, please.

Well? You may leave.

(IVANHOE GASPING)

There. It's all right.

(SHUSHING)

Easy. Rest easy, Ivanhoe.

Don't be alarmed. Don't shout, I beg you.

Are we... Are we in York?

We are prisoners.

ISAAC: Get your hands off me. Leave me alone.

(GROANING)

(WHISTLES)

Lost again. Lost again. What can I do?

Taken my master, left the fool.

Bandit or knave?

I am neither, sir.

Then what are you?

I am a fool. Wamba, the fool of my master, Cedric of Rotherwood.

A Saxon?

A noble Saxon, sir. And a prisoner.

Prisoner? Where?

Front-de-Boeuf's castle. With his ward,

the Lady Rowena and the noble Athelstane.

There is also... Would you mind, sir?

Thank you.

There is also Isaac, the Jew from York, and his daughter, Rebecca.

They were abducted?

They were indeed, sir. Most certainly.

Just as surely as you and I.

You? I? What are you talking about?

Look about you, sir.

The bushes are moving.

Welcome, welcome, gentlemen.

What do you wish? A fool or a knight?

(MEN YELLING)

(MAN WHISTLES)

Release him.

The Black Knight.

The tournament at Ashby. You saved young Ivanhoe.

You hold that against me?

Against you?

There is nothing more dear to me than the life of an Englishman.

If you are as good an Englishman as you are a knight,

then I hold you in esteem.

Why do you pass our way?

The shortest distance to York.

Then you must stay awhile.

Taste our hospitality.

Please. I entreat you.

If you truly love Englishmen, help save my master.

KING RICHARD: He speaks of Cedric of Rotherwood.

The Lady Rowena. The noble Athelstane.

Prisoners, all of them.

Prisoners in the castle of Front-de-Boeuf.

For myself, I would join any enterprise to save them.

Where is Little John?

On his way from Totherdam.

And Will Scarlet?

Just arrived.

And where's Friar Tuck?

Did you call, my lord?

ROBIN: Where have you been?

Why, at vespers saying prayers for all good Englishmen.

It appears you've been drinking more than usual.

Perhaps a pious taste or two of our sacred wine.

Do you think you're in suitable condition to give us service in combat?

(MUMBLING) There's a hissing here, and there is a weakness here.

I don't know.

(ALL LAUGHING)

Yes. They have both passed away. I am ready.

Then come, my wicked priest.

Let us be off, Black Knight.

The fool will lead us to his master.

You want my life? Do you want my wealth?

Is it too much for you Normans

that we Saxons still hold land in this, our own country?

Very well, then, put us to death.

I ask only that you free the Lady Rowena in honor and safety.

(LAUGHING)

(EXCLAIMS IN DISGUST)

Norman swine!

My God, who would have thought

that you, the descendent of Saxon kings,

should be the prisoner of a vile Norman

in the very hall in which our ancestors held court.

Perhaps they'll hold us to a moderate ransom.

Dogs.

Oh, my tongue cleaves to my palate. Could they have forgotten to send us wine?

(DOOR CLOSES)

(SIGHS)

Why don't you sit down, my lady?

If I am in the presence of my jailer, sir, I will stand.

Dearest lady, you are in the presence of your captive, not your jailer.

I don't know you, sir.

And no man dressed in spurs and wearing chains

should intrude himself upon an unprotected lady.

It's my misfortune that I am not known to you.

I hope the name of De Bracy is known to all in deeds of chivalry.

De Bracy?

I see no deeds of chivalry on this day.

You are unjust, Lady Rowena.

Won't you allow, at least, the passion of a man drawn by your great beauty?

Sir, you speak the common language of a minstrel.

Well, perhaps bold language best justifies bold action.

I tell you now,

you will never leave this place unless you leave it as the wife of Maurice de Bracy.

Your wife?

Oh, I know. You have great pride.

I admire that.

It makes you even more suited to take your place beside me.

When I do marry, sir, it will not be to one who despises

the manner in which I have been brought up.

(CHUCKLES)

Perhaps you dream that King Richard will resume the throne.

That is an empty dream. I can promise you that.

His fate will be as hopeless as that of Ivanhoe's.

What? Ivanhoe?

Ah!

Do I see a touch of tenderness at last?

Well, where is he? Do you know where he is?

I do.

Tell me, I beg you.

He lies gravely wounded in a turret room above.

I don't believe you.

You didn't take the trouble to look.

He traveled in the horse litter with Isaac, the Jew of York.

Now, were I to inform our host of this,

Ivanhoe will no longer breathe at all.

Smile, dear lady.

Simply smile at my proposal and he will have nothing to fear.

I can't believe that your purpose could be so wicked

and your power so great.

There are others. Cedric, your guardian.

The fate of all depends on your decision.

Lady Rowena, I would rather you kept your original anger than this.

Be assured, please, you have no reason for tears as yet.

I will leave you now

to dwell upon your decision.

(DOOR CLOSES)

Four towers.

Only 12 sentries.

That's all we see, but Front-de-Boeuf has a powerful garrison.

Well, here's to a noble victory.

(DOOR OPENING)

Is this what you came for?

The emeralds are beautiful and the diamonds, what brilliance.

But they cannot match for a moment the brilliance of your eyes.

They can buy you pleasure.

No. For you I demand a ransom of love.

I'll accept no other coin.

We have nothing of common between us.

Our union would be contrary to laws of church and synagogue alike.

Our union?

Do you think I would marry a Jewess?

(SCOFFS)

Not if she were the Queen of Sheba.

And, besides, it's against my vow as a Knight Templar

to take any woman as my wife.

Does your order justify carnal lust and debauchery?

I have spoken mildly thus far,

but now my language shall be that of a conqueror.

By the laws of all nations, you are subject to my will

and I'll not give up an inch of that right.

Nor will I give up violence if you refuse to hear my commands.

If you wish, use me, Knight Templar,

and I will proclaim it from one end of Europe to the other.

So all will learn that you have sinned with a Jewess.

And you shall be accursed for having dishonored the cross you wear.

You are keen-witted.

But your voice would have to be loud indeed

to be heard beyond the walls of this castle.

Still, you can be saved.

Submit to me freely

and you will go forth in such state that many a Norman lady will envy you.

Submit to you? I spit at you, sir. I defy you.

I will give myself to the God of Abraham first.

Stay where you are.

Just one foot nearer and I will jump.

I swear by earth and sky I will offer you no offense.

You have taught me not to trust you.

I swear by this cross and the sword at my side, I will do you no injury.

If not for yourself, then for your father's sake, step down.

I have broken many a law and many a commandment, but never my word.

Very well. Let there be peace between us.

I am...

I am not always what you have seen here.

Selfish and relentless.

I shall return.

And I shall hope to find you more receptive.

You will hope in vain.

Now. Accursed dog of an accursed race. Do you see these scales?

In these scales, you will place a thousand silver pounds.

Silver? I am not unreasonable.

If silver be scarce for you, I will not refuse gold.

I beg you, sir, it is too much.

(LAUGHS)

Look about you, infidel.

Prisoners a thousand times more distinguished

than you have died within these walls.

But for you we have reserved a long, lingering death.

There! On this warm couch will you lie,

stripped of your clothes.

The fire shall be kept warm beneath you

and we shall place oil on your limbs

lest you burn too quickly.

How can the God of nature make anyone capable of such cruelty?

You have only to pay the ransom.

I must seek help of others.

Tell me, when and where must it be delivered?

Here.

Here, to be counted before my eyes.

My daughter. You must allow my daughter to go to York,

and then, under your safe conduct

and as soon as man and horse can return,

the treasure can be weighed in your scales.

(CHUCKLING) Your daughter? No, no, that's impossible. It's too late.

It's too late? Yes. I took her to be your concubine.

I've already given her to Brian Guilbert.

You.

(EXCLAIMS)

Take it. Take all you want.

Take ten times more.

Make me a beggar in the street. Here.

Pierce me through with your sword.

Place me on your fire.

But, in the name of God, I beg you to spare Rebecca.

I have already given my word to Brian Guilbert.

I would not break it for you or ten more Jews.

You must. Must? Dog of a Jew.

You must pay my ransom.

Thief.

Villain. I'll pay you nothing. Not one penny will I pay you

unless my daughter is delivered in safety and honor.

Have you lost your senses, old man?

Do you imagine that your flesh has some charm

against scalding metal and boiling oil?

Do what you will. My daughter is my flesh and blood.

She is dearer to me, ten times dearer,

than these limbs that you threaten.

All right, take my life

and tell the world that the Jew knew how to disappoint the Christian.

(SHOUTING) Strip him! Chain him to those bars!

Villains! Take your filthy hands off!

(ISAAC GRUNTING)

(INAUDIBLE)

Leave him.

I will be back.

(IVANHOE GROANS)

(PANTS)

What happened? Nothing.

Nothing, Ivanhoe. We're still prisoners.

(GRUNTS)

Have you spoken to them yet?

No.

I thought... I thought I heard someone here.

Drink this.

No, no.

I feel so dizzy.

It's only water. Cool water.

There.

(BREATHING HEAVILY)

I saw you.

What?

In the light. By the opening there.

(PANTING)

Standing in the light like an angel.

Oh, dear God, if I could only get my strength back.

You will. You will.

A message has arrived in the Saxon hand. Can anyone read it?

Here. Where did you get this?

It was delivered to the gate.

Well?

It's a letter of defiance.

DE BRACY: Defiance?

"I, Wamba, the son of Witless, jester and fool to the noble Cedric of Rotherwood,

"do charge you with wrongfully seizing upon the persons of the said Cedric,

"Lady Rowena, Athelstane and their serfs and bondsmen."

(LAUGHING)

Is this a jest?

"You have also wrongfully seized Isaac of York,

"his daughter Rebecca and a person

"who is sick with their party."

(LAUGHS)

The insolence.

"You will deliver to us within the hour

"all of those whom I have named. Failure to do so will bring you destruction."

(ALL LAUGHING)

A fool indeed.

"I have the assistance of many allies, including the noble Black Knight."

Black Knight?

You remember? At the tournament.

"And that of the stout yeoman, Robert Locksley."

Locksley?

The devil himself.

I know the name. I know the man.

Here in the forest they call him Robin Hood.

I promise you, he would not attempt such insolence

unless he were not supported by many strong hands.

Now, see what you've done. I give you the use of my castle and you bring

this hornets' nest down upon me.

Hornets, no.

Stingless drones, I would say.

One knight is enough against 20 such peasants.

These yeomen know their work.

And, besides, the best of my men are in York along with your own force, De Bracy.

Would they dare to storm the castle? They would indeed.

We must buy time.

This message will go to the fool.

"We receive no defiances from slaves and outlaws.

"If the person calling himself the Black Knight claims any chivalry,

"he should know that he stands degraded in the present company."

To the point, Guilbert.

But what purpose will this message serve?

"We ask you, in Christian chivalry,

"to send a man of God to us to receive the last confessions of the prisoners

"before they are executed at dawn tomorrow."

They plan to execute the prisoners.

You must be mistaken.

No. I've told you the words just as they are set down.

Then we must storm the castle.

I think it a ruse. Simply to gain time.

They wouldn't dare go through with it.

Then we shall ignore it.

No. Better we know what is happening there.

They ask for a man of God to hear confessions.

Let us send them one.

Me?

I would rather kill ten of the enemy than confess one Christian.

I've put aside the friar's frock.

I'm dressed for combat now and only combat.

I say we storm the castle.

Not yet.

Is there anyone else here who could take on the part of a father confessor?

The fool.

(CHUCKLES)

Who but a fool would put his head where the wise man refuses?

What do I say to these Normans?

(SPEAKING LATIN)

(MUMBLES)

(SPEAKING LATIN)

That will be enough. That will suffice.

Do you have it?

(SPEAKING LATIN)

(SPEAKING LATIN)

How many of them guard the castle?

I made no count. But at least a dozen made the capture.

(PANTING) I can't just lie here. I must do something.

The door there is bolted from the outside.

Even if you had your strength, there's nothing, nothing you can do.

If only I could find out.

If only I knew she was all right.

The Lady Rowena. If only I could be certain they haven't touched her.

You love her so much?

She is my life. I am hers.

It has always been so.

Do you know what it is to care for someone that much?

I... No.

What?

I said no.

I've never felt that way before.

Don't worry. I'm sure she's all right.

And I would think more concerned about you.

You're very kind.

You've been very unselfish and kind.

It's difficult to understand why there hasn't been someone for you.

(GRUNTS)

(SPEAKING LATIN) What do you want? What?

A poor friar who has come to hear the confessions of the prisoners.

Oh, follow me.

(LAUGHS)

They sent us a holy friar, sir.

(WAMBA SPEAKING LATIN)

Come here.

Now tell me first.

What is the number of these bandits?

Their number, sir, is legion. Mmm.

What is their number?

At a guess, 500.

Now. Even now you still think of your stomach.

I will stand by you through all mortal danger.

Who's this?

(SPEAKING LATIN)

May the blessings of all the saints be upon you.

What do you want here, priest?

To prepare you for death.

What?

Your execution.

Impossible. They wouldn't dare attempt to murder us.

Noble Cedric, you will be called upon to answer to the highest tribunal.

I shall fight for my life first. Fight to the death.

Better to die like men than like slaves. Wait.

Wait a moment, do not leap into the dark, good uncle.

By my faith, I know that voice.

(CHUCKLES)

The voice of a fool. And if you will not confess,

then I am here to free you. Wamba.

Take my friar's robes.

Walk quietly out of the castle.

I will wear your own cloak and accept death in your place.

They'll hang you.

Even a fool can hang with majesty.

Wamba, I will grant your request,

but I want you to make this change of garments

with Athelstane instead of with me.

(LAUGHS)

The son of Witless dying to save Athelstane?

CEDRIC: The fathers of Athelstane were monarchs of England.

My neck is too straight to be twisted for their sake.

It's our duty to save him.

It is the duty of every man with Saxon blood in his veins.

(CRYING) I hang for you or for no one at all.

The fool is right.

I would not deprive him of his kindness to his master.

And your escape may bring friends to our rescue.

Is there any hope of rescue from without?

The yeomen are ready to storm the castle.

Even now they wait to hear from you.

Wamba, your memory will be preserved while there is honor on this earth.

But I trust I shall find means of saving you.

And what shall I say if they should question me?

I have no language of a holy Father.

(SPEAKING LATIN)

Is that all?

It is more useful than a broomstick.

Very well.

Athelstane, farewell.

If I cannot save you, I shall return to die with you.

Farewell.

Farewell, uncle.

(MEN CHATTERING)

You're finished, Reverend Father?

FRONT: Friar!

What did the prisoners say?

God's will be done.

Your speech, good Father, smacks something of a Saxon tongue.

Oh, no.

(LAUGHS NERVOUSLY)

Follow me.

We need to hold these swine at bay for at least 24 hours.

Here. Take this scroll to Philip of Malvodin.

He'll send us his men.

If we can keep these bandits where they are now,

we shall soon have enough lances to engage them.

(SPEAKING LATIN)

Here, this is for you.

But I will flay your skin if you fail my purpose.

(GRUNTS)

Norman dog!

Hounds and varlets. What have we here?

Villain.

You flatter me, sir.

I am nothing but a fool.

Fiend of hell. I will give you holy orders.

I will tear the scalp from your head and throw you from the ramparts.

Too late. They are closing in as we speak.

You. Do you value your freedom?

Then rid us of this scum that surrounds us.

How?

Your freedom for their retreat.

My freedom and the fool's.

And the fool's.

But do not speak of the infidel. They remain here.

Of course. Would I sacrifice myself for a non-believer?

Begone.

What of the Lady Rowena?

The lady remains here.

I'll be drawn by wild horses before I consent to part from her.

I will be happy to furnish you with them.

The lady remains.

Then so do I.

And if you're brave enough to mount the battlements,

you'd better do so right now.

To the walls. To the battlements.

(MEN CHATTERING)

Englishmen. It is time we showed our breeding.

In the name of St. Christopher!

To the battlements.

(ALL YELLING)

They're coming.

Under what banner?

Can you identify them?

I see no banners.

They wear the green of forest bandits.

BRIAN: Look over there.

Three knaves led by the Black Knight.

There is still time to deliver up our prisoners.

What? And allow this rabble of mankind

to render us cowards to our ungodly shame?

Never.

There's a knight among them in black armor.

The Black Knight.

St. George for England.

(ALL YELLING)

(GROANING)

(GROANS)

(SCREAMING)

(SHOUTING)

(GRUNTING)

(SCREAMING)

(GRUNTING)

Fire, you swine!

(YELLS)

(GRUNTING)

(GRUNTING)

(GROWLS)

(SCREAMING)

Back to the gate. The gate!

(SCREAMING)

KING RICHARD: We'll need a battering ram.

You shall have one.

Keep the arrows flying while we make the attack. Come on.

Lion-heart.

Dear God in heaven, if only I could be by his side now.

Why?

Why?

Why do your people so crave to fight?

Because...

A sword in your hand to shed someone's blood, is that what you want?

To take the strength from someone's arms and the light from his eyes?

Glory, gentle maiden. Glory.

Is it glory to spend a life so miserably?

By my soul, you speak of things you do not know.

Would you put out the light on chivalry?

All that separates the noble from the savage?

Don't you understand that without glory there is no...

(GROANS)

(PANTING)

No matter.

No matter. You're not a Christian, Rebecca.

These feelings are not known to you.

True. Indeed, I'm from a race that no longer listens to the sound of trumpets.

But I can promise you,

I would dare to die as bravely as the bravest knight

if I thought it could bring back the land taken from my people.

Sweet, gentle maiden,

if I belonged to your race,

I would keep you and treasure you

for the rest of my life.

One life. That's all that God will give us.

And we are not destined to share it.

I shall never forget you, Rebecca.

Never.

(MEN YELLING)

Does he breathe?

But a rattle.

A welcome addition to the kingdom of Satan.

He lacked of faith, true,

but unless we wish to join him, we had better return to the battlements.

Live or die, we fight as gentlemen.

(GRUNTING)

Stay outside. What?

Stay outside. You have no armor for this fight.

My bones may be old,

but let them curse me in my grave if I don't join you.

BRIAN: They're almost through the gate.

Cowards! Come back!

(YELLS)

(GRUNTING)

KING RICHARD: Yield!

Yield!

I will not yield to one unknown.

Tell me your name.

My Lord.

I yield.

Where can I find Ivanhoe?

Ivanhoe.

CEDRIC: Quickly. Quickly. Find Rowena.

Save yourselves. Follow me.

De Bracy, quickly, ride.

No.

I have yielded. I have given my sword on it.

(GRUNTS)

(PANTING)

I can walk, sir. I can walk.

Ivanhoe!

Oh, my love.

Hmm. Yes, indeed.

I think our gallant knight will surely live a while longer.

But not in your arms, dear lady. No.

He must be attended to in the peace and quiet of my camp.

Assist him.

Come, Ivanhoe. You'll see her again.

Be off with you now.

You won't leave here? Not without you, my love.

CEDRIC: Athelstane!

Athelstane!

Where is he? Have you seen him?

Where in God's name is Athelstane?

I fear, sir, that he is dead.

Dead?

Well, he has not been found.

So many bodies have been hacked by the broadsword that it is impossible to tell

which man is which, but he must lie here somewhere.

(SIGHS)

Dear God.

All my hopes. All the future of the Saxons perish with Athelstane.

Together you could have been a force against the Normans.

Never.

My heart's always been with Ivanhoe and you know it. Your son...

I have no son. He deserted me.

He deserted his Saxon blood.

You will have no part of him, do you hear?

If you make any effort to see him again, I will have you bound hand and foot.

Please, I beg you. I love him... Enough.

We leave for Rotherwood as soon as our party can be brought together.

(MEN CHATTERING)

Anything you want?

Ah! I have only one favor to ask, if you'll do me the honor.

Name it.

I ask permission to dispose of that knight as I see fit.

He is yours.

Leave us.

You're free to go

on condition that you leave England at once.

Should you be found on English soil by Sunday next,

I shall hang you up to feed the ravens on the pinnacle of your own castle.

Go.

Cedric will be disappointed.

He would've liked to have disposed of that prisoner himself.

(CHATTERING)

Good yeomen. Gallant knight.

Let it be known here by my word

that if any of you should hunger, I will give you food.

(ALL CHEERING)

If the Normans should drive you from these woods,

I have forests of my own where no one will ever ask

whose arrow struck the deer.

(ALL CHEERING)

We thank you, Lord Cedric.

Come to us not as a guest, but as a brother.

Ask any favor and I will grant it.

Anything at all.

We would be honored to have you join us

for the funeral rites of the brave, departed Athelstane.

The honor would be mine.

You have taught me the value of Saxon virtue

and I shall not forget it readily.

Farewell. ALL: Farewell.

Make room. Make room for your godly Father and his prisoner.

I am like an eagle with its prey in its clutches.

A victim to my sword.

For the love of God, will someone take me away from this madman?

Where did you find him?

I was looking for a draught of noble Norman wine,

when down in the cellar I found this infidel.

I was going to beat his brains out,

but I took pity upon his gray hairs

and converted him there and then.

That's a lie. I'm not converted. He lies.

You call me liar, then I must teach you better manners.

Hold! Strike me, Friar, if you dare.

I'll stand by your blow if you'll stand by mine.

(LAUGHS)

(MURMURING)

Right. Then down you go.

(CROWD EXCLAIMING)

Now, my turn.

(CROWD EXCLAIMING)

(GROANING)

I think you've broken my jaw.

(CROWD LAUGHING)

I think not. You can still speak.

Come, let's put an end to this nonsense.

(GRUNTS)

I am Isaac of York.

Has anyone here seen my daughter Rebecca?

We saw her. ISAAC: Hmm?

Carried off by Brian Guilbert when the castle fell.

He's done that? Where was she taken?

To hazard a guess, I would say north to Templestone,

where the Knights of the Temple gather.

I must leave at once. I must pay ransom.

Please, who will guide me? I will pay money to anyone who will guide me.

Oh, dear, sweet, gentle Jew.

I apologize if we had harsh words before.

I will be happy to guide you to Templestone

for a small fee. Two hundred stekas.

Two hundred stekas. We can leave in the morning.

We leave at once.

We leave at once.

MAN: The King approaches.

Your Majesty.

You have everything you require?

Your men have tended me very well, sire.

Good. Please be seated.

What news?

Let those wounds heal.

I may have great need of you later.

I'm almost healed, sire, thanks to the tender care of a remarkable young lady.

Hmm. Are we acquainted?

She's not of our race.

If she were, I would not have let her out of my sight.

Indeed. I have never seen such a remarkable recovery.

Rest today. We shall leave for the funeral services at Rotherwood tomorrow.

Well, is there time?

What of your forces gathering at York?

Time enough.

I am determined now to reconcile you and your father.

You think it possible?

I shall demand it.

And the Lady Rowena?

Well, I rather thought I'd leave that up to you.

GRAND MASTER: What is the girl's name?

EDWARD: Rebecca. Daughter of Isaac.

An infidel? Yes.

And he dared to bring her here?

He made no attempt to conceal her.

How could so noble a knight as Brian Guilbert be caught by this paramour?

She is obviously a sorceress.

Of course.

May the Lord protect us.

GRAND MASTER: Speak. What is your errand?

A man of great wealth is here to see you, Grand Master.

Has he no name?

His name is Isaac of York.

Let him in the gate.

What is your business?

I have come to pay for the deliverance of my daughter.

She is prisoner here of Brian Guilbert.

We wish you to tell us something of your daughter.

Does she practice the art of healing?

Yes, Reverend Master.

The art taught by that matron of your tribe called Miriam?

Yes, Reverend Master.

We burned her body at the stake.

Now we have her pupil.

Reverend Master, I... Silence, dog.

That witch of yours has cast a spell

over one of the knights of our Holy Temple.

Our Christian law will now deal with her.

I beg you to name your ransom.

I will pay you whatever you...

Out, false Jew,

or would you rather face the fire yourself?

(DOOR CLOSES)

Excuse me, noble Reverend,

but can we offer this witch to the fire without...

The laws of England...

Permit us to provide justice in our own jurisdiction.

We judge. We condemn.

Sir Brian. I'd have a word with you.

I am in no disposition to speak.

We must, I'm afraid. It concerns this person known as Rebecca.

I saved her life. My shield was her protection.

And now she tells me I should have left her to the flames.

Not even the slightest moment of gratitude.

She has cast a spell over you.

That is ridiculous.

Sir Brian,

the Grand Master has ruled that she must be punished.

What did you say?

He is determined to bring her to trial.

Only the death of the Jewess can atone

for the amorous indulgence of a Knight Templar.

Are you serious?

She must die.

For what reason? I have told you.

Because she is a Jewess?

Well, does that make her a witch?

Well, do we burn her for being a witch or a Jew?

Does it matter?

Think of it, Sir Brian.

Your present rank, your honors,

all depend on your place in the Order.

Would you throw them all away on this passion?

You may be Grand Master yourself in future.

At which time you can caress or burn

these daughters of Judah as best suits your humor.

What do you want from me?

Confess.

Go to the Grand Master and tell him that although you love

this captive Rebecca to distraction,

you love the Knights of the Temple more.

You welcome the trial.

She has offered me nothing.

Nothing that I should give up all rank and honor for.

I will cast her off. I will.

You. Daughter of an accursed race. Follow me.

Where?

You will be brought before the Grand Master to answer for your offense.

What offense?

I've been taken here against my will.

The offense of witchcraft among others.

Witchcraft? You accuse me of witchcraft?

Then I shall follow you willingly

for I am totally innocent of such a charge

and I shall look upon your judge as my protector.

The time has come, good yeomen.

We must bid you farewell.

The time has also come

for me to disclose the name which I have withheld from you.

I am Robert of Locksley.

I am known as Robin Hood.

Would it displease you greatly if I disclosed

that I have known it all along?

Perhaps, then, you will share the secret of your identity?

You will know very shortly. I promise. Farewell.

Farewell.

Farewell and thank you.

Godspeed.

I longed to tell them, sire, they fought with King Richard.

Their pride will come when we Normans

learn to rule with fairness once again.

You have my sword against Prince John at any time you wish.

It's possible now I won't need your sword, which is just as well.

I don't see you ready for battle for another month.

I would find the strength of a hundred demons to serve my king.

But for now, Ivanhoe, let us ride in peace.

GRAND MASTER: Reverend and valiant men.

Christian brothers of every degree.

I regret to inform you

that the raging wolf has made an inroad upon this flock

and is attempting to carry off one of our members.

We have therefore summoned to our presence this woman,

by name Rebecca, a woman infamous for her witcheries.

She has maddened the blood and besotted the brain of a knight

devoted to the service of our Holy Temple,

the very Preceptor of our order, Brian Guilbert.

Yes, it's true.

That such a man could cast away concern for his character,

his vows to our order, for an infidel.

What else can we surmise than he is possessed

by some evil demon or wicked spirit.

Brian de Bois Guilbert?

What do you say of these accusations?

I will not speak to such wild charges.

If my honor is questioned, I will defend it with my sword

which has often fought for Christendom.

Indeed. We forgive you, brother Guilbert.

Unveil yourself.

It is not our custom to uncover our faces in an assembly of strangers.

Rebecca of York, and you will answer me truthfully,

have you ever used secret cures and ancient medicines upon wounded men?

I have.

If that is a crime, then where is the law to accuse me?

To relieve the sick, to help the wounded of any religion

is not displeasing to your God or mine.

It does not make me a witch.

It does not make me a sorceress.

I appeal now to Brian Guilbert

whether these accusations are not false.

If you are a man, sir, if you are a Christian, speak.

Are these things true?

If you still have the power to answer this demon, my brother, then do it now.

I fear the power of Satan is too great for Brother Guilbert.

Therefore, I now... Wait.

Under the rules of the order,

the prisoner has the right to demand a champion to defend her

in trial by combat.

Do you call for a champion in your cause?

I do.

GRAND MASTER: Who will be the champion of a sorceress?

God will give me one.

Very well.

You will now lay down your glove

to see who among us will meet your champion.

We have received the glove of this demon

and who will pick it up as a sign that

we will meet her champion on the field of honor?

Speak up.

Who will defend our noble order against the champion of a demon?

I accept the glove

in the name of Brian Guilbert,

to whom it chiefly concerns.

Brian Guilbert, it is our charge to you then.

You will do battle with her champion for the judgment of God,

never doubting that our just cause shall triumph.

Grand Master,

if this woman will repent,

there is still time.

If she will accept our holy emblem and renounce her own.

Renounce my own fathers? Are you mad?

Mind your tongue, infidel.

If I cannot speak for my religion, then I am prepared to die for it.

I demand the right to a champion.

You have until the third day from the present to find one.

You give me precious little time to find a stranger of another faith

who will do battle for me.

Three days.

God's will be done.

If you fail to do so, you will die in fire the death of a sorceress.

If you bring forth a champion and he loses the battle,

you will die in fire the death of a sorceress.

May God aid the just cause.

(DOGS BARKING)

Who gave you this message?

A preceptor of the Templars

who received it from your daughter, sir...

Do you have a reply?

Yes.

Inform the Preceptor that we will find a champion within the prescribed time.

You wish to name him?

No. Later.

(SIGHS)

(PRAYING IN LATIN)

(INAUDIBLE)

I am here to pay my respects to your departed kinsman.

My gratitude, noble knight.

I will see to it that these sad walls offer you the hospitality you deserve.

You and your servant.

Uh. The moment may seem inappropriate,

but I beg to remind you, Cedric,

that the last time we parted you offered to grant me a favor

for the service I had rendered you.

You have indeed chosen a sad moment.

We have stood together in combat,

but you have always known me as the Black Knight.

Yes?

Know me now, then, as Richard Plantagenet.

You jest?

King Richard?

The same.

Well? Do you just stand there?

Have you no knee for your monarch?

I will confess, sire, that I have never knelt to Norman blood.

No. Well, perhaps you will,

when I prove to you equal protection of all Saxons and Normans.

If that is indeed your intent,

then you deserve to keep your throne

against the villainy of your brother John.

No more can I extend to you at this time.

Except the favor.

I require you now as a man of your word,

to forgive and receive to your affections

your noble son, Wilfred of Ivanhoe.

Father.

You.

You.

I beg you to grant me forgiveness.

I have always been a man of my word.

Even when given to a Norman.

Therefore you have my forgiveness.

Thank you, Father.

May I see the Lady Rowena?

What? What's that?

I intend to offer my hand in marriage to the Lady Rowena.

Not till she has completed at least two years' mourning

for the brave Athelstane.

Two years?

Neither you nor King Richard himself

will change my mind. Two years.

(WOMEN SCREAMING)

What has happened? What has happened?

In the name of God, if you are mortal, speak.

Give me time to collect my breath.

Alive.

As much alive as bread and water would keep me for three days.

We were told you were struck a mortal blow and cut to pieces.

I don't believe the blow was all that mortal.

Stunned, yes. Of course.

But I wandered about until I collapsed in the woods beyond.

A friendly shepherd nursed me until I could travel again.

One barley loaf and water. That's all he had.

I don't wish to sound ungrateful, but it was a terrible ordeal.

Take a breath. Rest a moment.

I'd much rather take a morsel of ham and a goblet of wine if you don't mind.

Thank God you've returned.

(WHISPERING) Ready to resume our project of liberation.

Don't talk to me of liberating anyone.

It is well that I am liberated myself.

Watch your tongue.

You stand before King Richard.

Him?

He has been a guest here to attend your funeral.

By my faith, I am honored.

I tender you my heart and hand.

Athelstane, would you kneel to a Norman?

I rise from my tomb a much wiser man than when I entered it.

And what of the Lady Rowena?

Would you desert her as you have deserted your Saxon cause?

Let us speak honestly here

and quickly, before I expire of hunger.

Lady Rowena has never cared for me.

She does, in fact, love the smallest finger

on the hand of Ivanhoe more than my whole person.

Here, give me your hand and yours.

Now, I hereby renounce all my inherited rights to the Lady Rowena

in favor of my cousin, Wilfred of Ivanhoe.

Done. I implore you, can we eat at last?

Good friend.

(INAUDIBLE)

I must leave for Templestone at once.

What is it?

A matter of honor.

But you've only just...

Are you well enough?

I have no choice.

If I should lose you now, it would be more than I could bear.

You will not.

Stop here.

(DOOR OPENING)

What do you want?

Please, you have no reason to fear me.

There are guards to protect you now.

Guards? You mean those chosen to escort me to my death?

Rebecca, please.

If you have nothing better to do than witness the misery you have caused,

then let me know it and leave me alone.

I confess I did not foresee what would happen here.

But I beg you to listen to me.

It was my intention to appear as your champion.

You?

I mean to protect you yet.

How?

If I do not appear against your champion,

I will lose all rank and honor.

I will lose that which is the very breath of life to me.

Such is my doom if I fail to appear.

But you will appear.

So why do you trouble yourself? Your choice is made.

No.

I stand ready to renounce all fame,

all respect of my countrymen,

if you will only accept my love for you.

Your love or your base passions?

We could leave here at once.

England is not the world.

We could go to Spain, to Palestine.

I'll create a new order.

I'll make you a queen, Rebecca.

Let us escape.

It's nothing but a dream.

An empty vision of the night.

How can you cast away all the bonds of your order,

only to gratify this passion for the daughter of another people?

There is a spell on me.

Why should I weep for you? So willing to die in torture and agony.

Why do I care?

Nothing can save you now.

Then so be it.

I leave you now forever.

But...

I would ask that you forgive me and that we part as friends.

I do forgive you.

Even though I know your sword will be strong against me.

I forgive you freely, as a victim forgives her executioner.

Farewell.

(DOOR CLOSES)

Where in God's name have you been?

(PANTING) At the castle of Front-de-Boeuf.

I shall need your force of arms immediately.

King Richard is back in England.

I know. I talked to him.

You talked to him?

He is raising a huge force of arms at York.

We shall meet him there.

I've sent word to Brian Guilbert and Front-de-Boeuf.

Front-de-Boeuf is dead and his men are scattered.

Brian Guilbert has returned to Templestone and cannot be counted on.

You have none but your own force here.

What of yours?

King Richard took me in fair battle,

and I was forced to yield and swear

by my honor that I would leave England.

Your honor? Your honor?

I am talking about the future throne of England.

Unless you wish to face King Richard with your palace guards,

which I would not advise,

I would hasten to make peace with him at the earliest possible moment.

My Lord Fitzurse.

Your Grace, I am a practical man.

To face Richard without the troops of these three loyal knights

would be brave indeed, and bold, but fruitless.

Villains.

Indeed, I regret to say that I am too old for combat, Your Grace.

I must now lay aside my duties and take sanctuary in the church of St. Peter.

My God.

Your God, Prince John, will never see you take the throne of England.

Good day.

Come.

(GRUNTING)

I call upon the champion.

Let the champion step forward.

Reverend Father, no champion appears for the Jewess.

Let one hour pass and if there is no champion,

the witch will prepare for her death.

Rebecca. Hear me, listen.

We can still escape. I have a strong black stallion

waiting at the edge of the field.

No.

In the name of God, then, I beg you, renounce your faith and admit your guilt.

(EXCLAIMS)

It is time, Reverend Father.

Proceed.

What a pity.

To perish without one blow being struck in her behalf.

If she were the least bit of a Christian, I might champion her myself.

Proceed.

A champion! A champion! A champion!

A champion! A champion!

EDWARD: Your name. Your rank. Your purpose.

I am Wilfred of Ivanhoe, a knight proven in battle.

I am here to sustain with lance and sword,

the just rights of the young woman, Rebecca.

And to defy Sir Brian Guilbert

as a liar, a traitor and a murderer.

You are not yet recovered from your wounds to fight.

Heal them first,

or it will not be worth my while to curb this boyish spirit of bravado.

You have fallen twice before my lance.

Recover your honor, sir.

Do battle without further delay.

Prepare for your death.

GRAND MASTER: Hold. Not yet. The prisoner must accept you as her champion.

Do you accept me as your champion?

Yes.

Let no one on pain of death interfere with this field of combat.

(SPEAKING FRENCH)

(GRUNTS)

(HORSE NEIGHS)

(GRUNTS)

(GRUNTING)

(GROANS)

(PANTING)

(BOTH GRUNTING)

(GROANS)

(PANTING)

(GRUNTING)

Why?

You have rightfully done your duty in combat.

By the laws of our order,

I pronounce the maiden, Rebecca, free and guiltless.

(HORSES APPROACHING)

Hail, King Richard! Long live the King!

Him?

Heaven forfend. And to think I struck him.

ISAAC: Rebecca.

Oh!

(CHUCKLES)

KING RICHARD: If you look to the towers of the preceptory,

you will see the royal standard of England

instead of your temple banner.

It has been placed there by your king, Richard Plantagenet.

You do not reckon, sire, with your brother, Prince John.

My brother now pays obedience to his king.

And you, Reverend Father, I hereby banish from this country.

Dissolve your order and depart with your followers at once.

But, sire...

Or do you wish to use the stake and fire yourself?

From this day forward, your king will seek a close union

between Saxon and Norman.

(ALL CHEERING)

(PRAYING IN LATIN)

What means this, lady?

Why do you bow before me?

I pay you my debt of gratitude

which I owe to Wilfred of Ivanhoe.

Forgive my boldness.

I beg you to rise.

Your kindness, your charity to my husband has more than paid us in return.

Would you give your husband my grateful farewell?

Are you leaving York?

My father and I are leaving England.

We sail for Spain and hope for some protection there.

But Ivanhoe now has favor with King Richard.

And, though a Norman, he is just and generous.

Perhaps.

But the people of England are a fierce race,

and it is no safe abode for the children of my people.

But surely you have nothing to fear?

There is a gulf between us, Lady.

Our faiths forbid us to cross that gulf.

But I must tell you

that your face shows a gentleness and a kindness I will always cherish.

I bless God that I leave Ivanhoe with such goodness of heart. I...

Farewell.

May the God who made us both bring you blessings.

Rebecca?

Rebecca.

NARRATOR: It was told by all that Ivanhoe and fair Rowena

lived long and happily together.

Yet one can't help but wonder

if fond memories of Rebecca

did not reoccur to Ivanhoe's mind

until the very end of his days.