Man of La Mancha Page #5

I suggest that you agree

But he'll find it is not golden

Will not make him

bold and brave

Well, at least

he'll find it useful

If he ever needs a shave

Golden helmet

Of Mambrino

There can be no

Helm like thee

Thou and I now

Ere I die now

Will make golden

History

Are you saying your prayers?

I thought you'd like

some refreshment, then supper.

- Sir Castellano.

- Sir Knight.

I would make a confession.

To me?

I would confess

I have never been dubbed knight.

Oh. That's bad.

But I am well qualified, milord.

I am brave and courteous,

bold and generous...

affable and patient.

Yes. That's the list.

Therefore

I would beg a boon of thee.

Anything... within reason.

Tonight, I will hold vigil

in the chapel of thy castle...

and, at dawn,

receive from your hand...

the ennobling stroke

of knighthood.

But there's one small

difficulty... no chapel.

- No chapel?

- That is, it's being restored.

Now, if you wouldn't mind...

holding your vigil

some other place?

Here in the courtyard...

under the stars.

Of course. At dawn,

you shall be dubbed knight.

Milord...

I thank you.

Now will you have some supper?

Before a vigil? Nay, milord.

On this night, I must fast

and compose my spirit.

We have come for Don Quixote,

Knight of La Mancha.

We have word

he stays at this inn.

Yes, Your Grace,

he does stay here.

My sister, this great lady

would speak with him.

The drums sound!

Why am I summoned?

Are you the man we seek?

I am Don Quixote, de La Mancha.

Fire cannot be hidden.

Virtue cannot fail

to be recognized.

Cease your praises.

Word of your renown met us

on the very shores of Spain.

You have no need

to sue for favor.

Only say how I may help you.

Milady, you must not kneel.

I shall not rise until

you grant the boon I ask.

I grant it freely.

The Great Enchanter has brought

unhappiness to us all.

Your enemy.

He has bewitched our brother.

Turned him to stone.

He will not regain

his former self...

until Don Quixote

joins in single combat...

with the Enchanter.

Have the fates

indeed reserved...

this unparalleled adventure

for my sword?

Assist me, sweet Dulcinea.

Let not your favor

and protection...

fail me in this, my first trial.

Where shall I find

the Enchanter?

Declare yourself,

and he will find you.

Pray well, Don Quixote.

Pray power into thine arm,

a keen edge to thy sword...

and courage into thy soul.

I shall take my prayers up

in the chapel.

Here is my arm.

Is this the lady Dulcinea?

The gentleman's talking to you.

- Ah!

- Dulcinea.

Her name's Aldonza.

The old gentleman, he took

a fancy to calling her Dulcinea.

Where's this chapel?

How does it happen

a wretched tavern like this...

can boast a chapel?

It isn't a chapel, Your Grace.

He's in the stable.

Ah, another excess

of imagination.

How does it harm anyone?

You're more of a fool

than he is...

playing tricks on a man

who is mad. Leave me!

One might say Jesus was mad...

or St. Francis.

A man who chooses to be mad

can also choose to be sane.

Oh, yes. It was easy enough

planning this enterprise...

but it will be difficult

to come out of it well.

May not the cure be more cruel

than the disease?

We have given reality

to his madness.

We cannot abandon him now.

We have said

he will meet the Enchanter.

He must meet him.

Little bird, little bird

Awoo!

In the cinnamon tree

In the cinnamon tree

Little bird, little bird

Do you sing for me?

Do you bring me word

Of one I know?

Little bird, little bird

I love her so

Little bird, little bird

And I have to know

Little bird, little bird

Beneath this tree

This cinnamon tree

We learned to love

We learned to cry

For here we met

And here we kissed

And here

one cold and moonless night

We said good-bye

Little bird, little bird

Little bird, little bird

Oh, have pity on me

Little bird, little bird

Bring her back to me now

Little bird, little bird

Beneath the cinnamon tree

Little bird, little bird

I have waited too long

Little bird

Without a song

- Little bird,

- Little bird, little bird

Please fly, please go

Little bird, little bird

And tell her so

Little bird, little bird

Little bird, little bird

- Sss!

- Awoo!

I spit on all your little birds!

Here!

Give it back!

Give it back to me!

What's this?

- "The most lovely sovereign...

- Oh!

"And high-born lady..."

It's from her knight!

It's a love letter.

- Such fine words.

- Well, fine words!

All right.

He's a man, isn't he?

He wants what

every other man wants. So!

- Yeah!

- Yeah!

Hey... soon?

When I'm through in the kitchen.

Now I must consider

how sages of the future...

will describe

this historic night.

Long after the sun

had retired to his couch...

darkening the gates

and balconies of La Mancha...

Don Quixote, with lofty

expression and measured tread...

held vigil in the courtyard

of a mighty castle.

Ohh.

Maker of empty boasts...

on this of all nights

to give way to vanity.

No. Don Quixote,

take a deep breath of life...

and consider

how it should be lived.

Call nothing thine

except thy soul.

Love not what thou art,

only what thou may become.

Do not pursue pleasure...

or thou mayest have

the misfortune to overtake it.

Look always forward.

In last year's nests...

there are no birds this year.

Be just to all men,

courteous to all women.

Live in the vision...

of the one for whom

great deeds are done...

Dulcinea.

Get up from there! Get up!

Milady.

Why do you call me

by that name?

- Because it is yours.

- My name is Aldonza!

I know you, milady.

I think you know me not.

All my years I have known you,

your nobility of spirit...

long have I seen you

in my heart.

Your heart

doesn't know much about women.

It knows all, milady.

Woman is the soul of man...

the radiance

that lights his way.

Woman is glory.

What do you want of me?

- Nothing.

- Liar.

I deserve the rebuke.

- I ask of milady...

- Now we get to it!

That I may be allowed

to serve her...

that I may hold her

in my heart...

that to her

I may dedicate each victory...

and call upon her in defeat.

And if at last I give my life...

I give it

in the sacred name of Dulcinea.

I must go. Pedro is waiting.

Why do you do these things?

What things?

These ridiculous...

the things you do.

I come in a world of iron...

to make a world of gold.

The world's a dung heap...

and we are maggots

that crawl on it.

No.

Milady knows better

in her heart.

What's in my heart

will get me halfway to hell...

and you, Seor Don Quixote...

your head is going to end up

a stranger to your neck.

- That doesn't matter.

- What does?

Only that I follow the quest.

That for your quest.

What does it mean... quest?

The mission of each true knight

is duty...

nay, is privilege.

To dream the impossible dream

To fight the unbeatable foe

To bear with unbearable sorrow

To run

where the brave dare not go

To right the unrightable wrong

To love

pure and chaste from afar

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