Man of La Mancha Page #4

by his imagination.

Seor Quijana has lost his mind

and is suffering from delusions.

- Is there a difference?

- Exactitude of meaning.

I beg to remind you

I am a doctor.

The innocent must pay

for the sins of the guilty.

Guilty? Of what?

Of gentle delusion?

How do you know it is gentle?

He was armed.

With sword and lance.

I cannot favor the madness that

puts a sword into his hand...

but I can love the gentle

spirit that moves him...

to measure his sword with evil.

I shall concern myself

with his madness, father...

and leave the care

of his spirit in your hands.

Sanson? I had hoped for so much

for us, for you, really.

Everything was to be for you...

my uncle's house, his lands.

That's true, doctor. In time,

they would all be yours.

Or you a priest or pawnbroker?

What I meant was...

- consider the challenge.

- Challenge?

Think what cleverness

it would take...

to wean him from his madness.

Turn him from his course.

To persuade him

to come back home.

To bring him to see

the same world?

Hmm. That is a challenge.

Enormous.

To work within his lunacy...

to cure him through

the very terms that are his own.

Come, father. We shall do it.

We will return now to the inn,

the kitchen.

Yay!

It is imperative

each knight has a lady...

for a knight without a lady...

is a body without a soul.

To whom would he dedicate

his conquests?

What vision sustain him when

he sallies forth to do battle...

with evil and with giants?

Don Quixote,

having found his lady...

sends Sancho Panza to her

with a missive.

Missive? What's a missive?

It's a sort of letter.

He warned me to give it

only into your hands.

Well, let's see it.

I can't read.

Neither can I, but my master,

foreseeing such a possibility...

recited it to me,

so I could commit it to heart.

What made him think

I couldn't read?

Well, as he explained it...

most noblewomen are so busy

with their needlework...

Needlework?

Embroidering banners

for their knights...

he said they had no time

for study.

What's it say?

Hmm

Most lovely sovereign

and highborn lady

The heart of this,

thy vassal knight

Faints for thy favor

Oh, fairest of the fair

Purest of the pure

Incomparable Dulcinea

Oh, that again!

My name is Aldonza.

- Master calls you Dulcinea.

- Why?

I don't know, but I can

tell you from experience...

that knights have their own

language for everything...

and it's better

not to ask questions.

It only gets you into trouble.

Ahem.

I beg thee grant

that I may kiss

The nethermost hem

of thy garment

Kiss my what?

If you keep interrupting me

like this...

the whole thing will be gone

right out of my head.

- Well, what's he want?

- I'm getting to it.

I beg thee grant

that I may kiss

The nethermost hem

of thy garment

And send to me a token

of thy fair esteem

That I may carry

as my standard into battle

What kind of a token?

He says generally

it's a silken scarf.

Why, your master's

a crack-brain.

Well, they say one madman

makes a hundred...

and love makes a thousand.

- What does that mean?

- I'm not sure.

You're crazy, too.

- What are you waiting for?

- The token.

I'll give him a token. Here!

But, milady...

Don't you milady me,

or I'll crack you like an egg.

Hey, wait a moment.

Come here.

Come. Tell me.

Why do you follow him, huh?

Oh, that's easy to explain.

It's a... it's a...

well, it's a sort of crusade.

Crusade?

And then there's

all those people in distress.

Distress?

And, uh, well, uh,

because, um...

- Why?

- I'm telling you.

- Because, um...

- Why?

I like him.

I really like him.

Tear out my fingernails

One by one

I like him

- That's no reason.

- I don't have

A very good reason

Since I've been with him

Cuckoo nuts have been in season

- You are crazy.

- But there's nothing I can do

Chop me up for onion stew

Still I'll yell to the sky

Though I can't tell you why

That I like him

He doesn't make any sense.

Well, that's because

you're not a squire.

All right, you're a squire.

How does a squire squire?

Well, I ride behind him...

and he fights, and then

I pick him up off the ground.

What do you get out of it?

- What do I get?

- Yes.

Plenty.

Why, already I've gotten...

You've gotten nothing,

so why do you do it?

I like him

I really like him

Pluck me naked

as a scalded chicken

I like him

Don't ask me

For why or wherefore

'Cause I don't have

a single good because

Or therefore

You can chop me for croquettes

Beat my bones like castanets

Make me freeze, make me fry

Make me sigh, make me cry

Still I'll yell to the sky

Though I can't tell you why

That I like him

"Fairest of the fair.

Kiss the hem of thy garment."

"Incomparable."

"Dulcinea."

Your Grace!

Milady received thee?

Oh, most fortunate of squires.

The token. What of the token?

Gossamer.

Purest gossamer.

Forgive me.

I'm overcome.

Oh, I am a little barber

And I go my merry way

With my razor and my basin

I can always earn my pay

Somebody approacheth!

Though your chin

be smooth as satin

You will need me soon, I know

For the lord

protects his barbers

And he makes the stubble grow

Well, good day, gentlemen.

It's just an ordinary traveler.

Nay!

See what he weareth on his head.

By all the saints...

there is a fortune

to be made right here.

Arm thyself. This encounter

may be perilous.

Oh, dear.

If I slip

while I am shaving you

And cut you to the quick

You can use me as a doctor

'Cause I also heal the sick

Well, shall you be my...

shall you be my first to...

You... you... you should be

my... my first...

Oh, by the beard

of St. Anthony...

I do believe I see before me...

a knight...

in full armor.

It's ridiculous.

There aren't any knights!

- What?

- I was wrong. Forgive me.

Forgive me, your... your... bigness.

I thought I'd been

touched by the sun.

Thou wilt be touched by worse...

unless thou surrender rapidly

that golden helmet...

which is justly mine.

Golden helmet?

But this is a shaving basin.

Shaving basin. Mister...

I must say, Your Grace, it does

look like a shaving basin.

Oh, oh, yes.

Yes. It's a shaving basin.

I'm a barber. I was merely

wearing this for my head...

to... to ward off the rays

of the sun, you see...

so that's how your highship

made the mistake of...

Silence!

Knowest thou

what that really is?

Uh-uh.

The golden helmet of Mambrino.

When worn

by one of noble heart...

it rendereth him invulnerable

to all wounds.

From what fallen knight

didst thou steal it?

I didn't steal it.

- Surrender it!

- Well, it cost me half a crown!

Surrender it, or I'll split... -

I must say, Your Grace,

it is worth half a crown.

Peasant.

Thou golden helmet of Mambrino

With so illustrious a past

Too long hast thou

been lost to glory

But rediscovered now at last

Golden helmet of Mambrino

There can be no helm like thee

Thou and I now

Ere I die now

Will make golden history

I can hear the cuckoo singing

In the cuckoo berry tree

If he says that that's a helmet

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