All language subtitles for Ivanhoe.1982.1080p.WEBRip.x264-RARBG

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.