Ivanhoe Page #3

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I seek 150,000 marks of silver...

...the price of Richard's ransom

from Leopold of Austria.

Glance around you, sire.

What you see is all we've saved...

...from every home we tried to make.

A toy or two from every land

that cast us out.

I am not a rich man, Sir lvanhoe.

No, but you are the patriarch

of your tribe.

Tell your people Richard must be ransomed.

They will find the wealth.

I see you love Richard, sire...

...but he was no friend to my people.

Our synagogues were looted

to send him on his crusades.

Do you prefer the persecution

of his brother, John?

There is little to choose between Black John

and Richard, yea and nay, if you are a Jew.

Then I pledge you this, Isaac.

You're a race without a home or a country.

Deliver Richard, and he will deliver

your people from persecution.

My friend, you ask for more

than we can give.

- And you offer more than Richard can give.

- Do you doubt my word?

Write down whatever terms you want.

I shall sign them in King Richard's name.

We shall need no pledge on paper,

you and I.

Let Richard promise this instead.

Let him promise justice to each man...

...whether he be Saxon

or Norman or Jew...

...for justice belongs to all men...

...or it belongs to none.

But that is a Christian teaching.

Strange as it may be, sire,

we are taught it too.

What you ask shall be done.

So be it, then. Whatever money

you cannot find among your own people...

...I shall try to find it for you.

Does that fulfill our pact?

Not quite.

This combat at arms at Ashby

is a weather vane...

...to test the strength of John.

If his knights were to sweep the field,

how would it go with Richard's cause?

Badly, sire. Money takes fright

when might conquers right.

My worldly goods are what I stand in.

I have no armor and no warhorse.

But I must ride against John's knights

at Ashby, or they will win.

A horse and gear would borrow

from the ransom.

Then I'll seek them elsewhere.

You'll find me at the sign

of the longbow.

Here is my hand,

in token of my pledge to you.

Why do you look at me thus, Isaac?

This is the first time I touch a Saxon hand

in friendship, Sir lvanhoe.

It is Richard's hand you touch.

Now for thy collar, good squire.

Kneel down.

A cow jumped the moon

But a fool, he jumps higher

From Wamba the serf

To Wamba the squire

Oh, strike, Sir lvanhoe,

while I still have me courage.

Then off come your shackles.

Oh, no. Make sure it's the shackles,

not my head.

There.

May your next collar be no heavier

than a pretty woman's arms.

Oh, that, sire, is a collar

that I shall change every day.

When they first put this on me, sire,

I was 11 years old.

My father died with his

still around his neck.

I feel very strange.

Strange? To be free?

Yes, and I could wish that the whole

of England could feel as strange as I do.

And so they shall,

as soon as Richard's king again.

Now, good squire, get you to sleep.

Squire.

Stand and declare yourself.

Now, milady, what is your purpose here?

I was told to deliver this to your lodgings.

At this hour? By the window?

Who sent you?

This is no time to lose your tongue.

Who sent you?

I come from the household

of Isaac of York.

Open the box.

- What are these for?

- For you.

If these are Isaac's, he would have given

them to me before I left.

They are not his to give. They were handed

down to my mistress by her mother.

Who is your mistress?

Rebecca, the daughter of Isaac.

She bade me tell you that these

are for your armor and your horse...

...so that you may ride at Ashby.

Is this with

your mother's knowledge, Rebecca?

My mother was killed in Spain

two years ago.

That is why my father

brought me to England.

If I should fall at Ashby, horse and armor are

forfeit to the victor. These would all be lost.

You will not fall.

But if I should?

Then England would fall too.

Do you love England so much?

Does a prisoner love his prison?

- Then why do you give me your jewels?

- In return for my father's life.

- Your father has rewarded me already.

- Then I reward you again.

If you change your mind, in fear, to ride

at Ashby, give these back to me.

Otherwise, use them to win the day.

I shall use them.

That is all I came to hear.

May I have your leave to go?

Not alone.

Squire? Wamba!

Squire Wamba? That's me. Coming, sire.

- My squire will attend you.

- Thank you.

Give this lady escort

to the house of Isaac.

Right willingly, sire.

I wish you well, sir knight. Farewell.

Farewell?

Will you not be there at Ashby,

when it is you who have put me in the lists?

Do not look for me at Ashby, sire.

Why not?

Because it is not wise for me to go...

...and still less wise if you were seen

to greet me there.

But why?

Because I am my father's daughter,

sir knight.

Why else?

Nobly ridden, my lords.

I never yet saw better sport.

- The day is already ours, Your Highness.

- Aye, the Saxons are poor losers, Fitzurse.

Look at their faces now.

Richard destroyed the flower of the land.

And now his brother destroys

the seedlings that are left.

If only I were a man for one short hour.

We'd still need a hundred like you

to bring back Saxon glory to this field.

I was wrong to let you coax me here,

Rebecca. Only grief can come of it.

What's this, another challenger?

I thought we'd picked them clean.

Your name, sir knight, or your degree?

My name, I withhold. My allegiance

is to Richard, King of England.

Are you Norman or Saxon?

I am Saxon.

Choose your adversary...

...by stroke of lance upon his shield.

Black from hoof to plume,

the ill-omened knave.

He'll soon be bright with blood,

Your Highness.

The madman. He defies all five!

Bash him quickly, Malvoisin.

By all that's wonderful, I almost see myself

grown young again, Rowena.

He reminds me much

of a certain pupil of mine.

I'll bring Malvoisin to his knees for this,

the empty-headed jay.

By holy St. Dunstan,

our champion pays homage to the Jews.

No, milord...

...his homage was to beauty,

not to faith, I fear.

I think I know that knight, Rebecca.

But how do you?

But did you not bring him to our house?

How did he get his armor and his horse?

My mother's jewels were mine to give.

Did I do wrong?

Nay.

I approve.

But only of the gift.

Aye.

Hide that face from every man, save me.

His taste in women is a glove

in every Saxon face.

Now let Sir Ralph throw him,

and his shame's complete.

Front De Boeuf, the field is all yours.

I shall follow you to glory.

Follow with a basket, then.

I'm going to strew the field

with Saxon guts and bones.

If you could tear your eyes

from your light of love, Guilbert...

...this black knight's tricks bear watching.

- I have been watching.

He swings his shield low, levels at the head,

but drops point before shock.

I swear I've met these methods

once before, but where?

Oh, rich. Oh, richly done.

Let him do it twice more, and I'll not say

a word if his love was a Barbary ape.

I would she were.

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