A Knight's Tale Page #5

Jocelyn, how may I prove|my love to you? How?

- Do you ask in earnest?|- Yes.

If you would prove your love...

- ...do your worst.|- My worst?

What do you mean?

Instead of winning to honor me|with your high reputation...

...act against your character|and do badly.

- Do badly?|- Lose.

Losing proves that I'm a loser.

Wrong. Losing is a much keener|test of your love.

Losing would contradict|your self-love.

It would show obedience|to your lover and not yourself!

- Really?|- Woman, shh!

Do not "shh" me and spare him!|Now be gone! Go!

What is your answer?

I will not lose.

Then you do not love me.

The Protector of Italian Virginity...

...the Lance that thrilled France...

...the Harasser of Paraser!

He gave them hell at La Rochelle!

The Enforcer of our Lord God!

The one, the only...

...Sir Ulrich...

...von Lichtenstein!

God, I'm good!

His horse's flanks.

Maybe where he comes from,|it means love.

- Losing.|- I don't understand.

He loves me.

Are you blind?

- Did you see the flag?|- I saw it, okay?

I know.

You're dropping behind|for a more dramatic victory.

Look, Jocelyn told me to lose|to prove my love.

- I'd rather you were blind.|- Don't be foolish, Will.

- Each woman wants proof, that's all.|- Proof of what?

Her legs weren't uncrossed|for nothing.

- I haven't uncrossed her legs.|- Then why are we doing this?!

Because!

Because...

...I love her.

- I'm going to lose everything!|- That's why it's called gambling.

Pain! Here's your pain!

It's very romantic, though.

Are you a woman or a blacksmith?

Sometimes I'm both.

Ooh, that chafes!

Put him down.

No knight has distanced himself|with victories.

If you win your remaining matches|and your opponents take key losses...

...you could make the semis,|or the finals.

- At least the armor's proven itself.|- And your love?

Have you proven that?

Wat, you remember church as a boy.|The fear, the passion.

That's what she makes me feel.

And for that, I say my rosary|to Jocelyn and no one else.

William, that's blasphemous.

Then may I burn in hell.

Withdraw.

Lose that way.|Take no more punishment.

Oh, Roland.

My lady sends this message.|If you love her--

I know, I know. I must lose.|Isn't she watching?

She says if you love her,|you won't lose again.

She says if you love her,|you will win this tournament.

There she is, the embodiment of love.|Your Venus.

And how I hate her.

- I don't understand women.|- Nor do I, but they understand us.

Maybe not you.

Yes!

Women, eh?

Forty-eight...

...forty-nine...

...and fifty.

Thank you, gentlemen.|A pleasure doing business with you.

Look us up if you're in London,|the world championships, maybe.

Don't look too sad.|Here, have a drink on me.

He's quick, he's funny and|makes lots of money, Lichtenstein!

Guinevere comes to Lancelot.

Bed him well, my lady.

Bed him well.

We missed you at banquet.

"We"?

I.

Jocelyn.

Your prize.

My prize.

I am not worthy of a prize.

Then who is?

My maid tells me that|sometimes your varlets...

...call you William.

Is this so, Sir Ulrich?

Yes.

It is so.

Your name makes no matter to me.

Just so I can call you my own.

But Jocelyn, I am your own.

Damn, girl.

You need a surgeon.

He's been. He says I will live,|though it doesn't feel that way.

Oh, William. This pain is my doing.

Yes, it is.

Although...

...my father...

...taught me to take the bad...

...with the good.

This good you speak of.

It will be my doing as well.

How long since any of you have been|back? I've only been gone 6 months.

Two years for me.

Three years.

Five. Five long years.

William?

Twelve.

Twelve years.

He's to be an apprentice?

How long for?

Seven years.

Sir Ector?

I'm the thatcher. I spoke to you|outside London Stadium.

Oh, yes. I remember.

Is this the boy?

Step forward, son. Let me look at you.

Careful with that, Roland!

Are you afraid of me, boy?

Have you got most of your teeth?

Show me your arm. Is it strong?

Well, he's a half-starved little|scarecrow.

But he has spirit.

I can show you a great wide world|full of adventure...

...and marvels you|do not yet dream of.

Can you pack my horse and lead it?

Well, come on.|Say goodbye to your father.

He's a real knight, William.|Watch and learn all you can.

It's all I can do for you, son.

Now go change your stars|and live a better life than I have.

Roland, show the boy his duties.

- Father? I'm afraid.|- Of what?

I won't know the way home.

Don't be foolish, William.|You just follow your feet.

London.

Give us a shout out, London!

Ulrich! Ulrich! Ulrich! Ulrich!

- Adhemar's here. He's entered.|- Must have grown bored with war.

No, the Black Prince commanded it.|He had to disband his army.

They were reveling,|pillaging town after town.

Robbing, murdering,|ransacking churches.

Committing the oldest sins|in the newest ways.

At last we will face each other again,|Sir Ulrich.

And at the World Championship.

And as I promised you before...

...you will look up at me|from the flat of your back.

Let the past die.

You've done well in my absence,|on the field and off, I'm told.

Winning trophies, horses, women.

You put them in that order?

Generally, with a few exceptions.

Beautiful, isn't she?

A real thoroughbred trophy,|don't you think?

- You speak of her like a target.|- Isn't she?

No.

She is the arrow.

I've begun negotiations|with her father.

I'm to make her my bride.

She'll be saddled...

...and placed on my mantle.

Target or arrow, it doesn't matter.

I will have her.

Ulrich! Ulrich! Ulrich!

But on a horse? With a lance?

That man is unbeatable.

Hello there.

- You're Sir Ulrich von Lichtenstein.|- Yes.

You're my favorite knight.|When we joust, I always say I'm you.

What are you doing in Cheapside?|There's no parade today.

Can you keep a secret?

I was born in Cheapside,|just around the corner there.

I only live just there.

How old are you?

- Nine and one half.|- Nine and one half.

I wonder if you remember a man,|though he may have died long ago.

He was as tall as a knight.|His name was John Thatcher.

- Of course I remember him.|- You do?

Yes. He lives there still.

Sometimes we see him sitting|at the window, but no one knows why.

What do you mean?

He's blind, sir.

Is someone there?

If you're here for the net,|I'm not done yet. Come tomorrow.

Who are you?

A knight.

My name...is Ulrich.

Ulrich? I hear that name|being chanted from the stadium.

What business have you here?

I have word, Master Thatcher.

Word of your son.

Of my William? Well, come in, sir.

What word? Does he live?

Aye. He lives.

He is very well.

He wanted you to know...

...that he changed his stars|after all.

And has he followed his feet?

Has he found his way home at last?

Yes.

Father.

Oh, William. Oh, my boy.

I should like to meet this Wat.|And Roland too.

You will, Father.

And what of women?|Is there a certain one or many?

There is a certain one.

I should like to meet her too.

This leak won't do, Father.

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