The Court Jester Page #7

My lords... what a prize!

The Black Fox, himself!

Expose him! You'll

get all the credit!

Not so fast.

Not until the Fox pays

us one more service.

He'll rid us forever of

the barbaric Griswold!

Kill Griswold? But how?

Whose is the deadliest

blade in England?

Who is the only man alive who

can best Griswold in mortal combat?

Only the Black Fox!

But the Fox is a commoner

and cannot fight in tournament.

We shall see.

No, Ravenhurst,

I do not understand.

What do you mean Griswold

himself suggested a solution?

You yourself heard him, sire.

He said were the

jester of noble rank,

he would challenge

him to mortal combat.

But the jester cannot fight in

tournament! He's a commoner.

Then, sire,

knight the jester.

Knight the jester?!

Griswold can then challenge him for

the hand of the princess Gwendolyn,

and by the rules of chivalry,

she must wed the victor!

Knight the jester.

Sir Griswold will challenge him.

He dare not refuse.

They meet at the

tournament, tomorrow,

Sir Griswold's lance

runs the jester through,

and the marriage and

the alliance proceed.

Yea? Hm. Ha!

Ha! Magnificent!

Thank you, sire.

But your majesty,

knighthood is an arduous ritual!

It will take three years

to knight the jester.

Three years? Nonsense!

Ravenhurst,

take that nincompoop,

and knight that nincompoop

by noon tomorrow!

Sire.

By order of his

sovereign majesty,

the jester Giacomo shall enter

upon a series of tests of manhood,

skill, and courage requisite to

his becoming a knight of the realm.

M-me a knight? But why?

To make you eligible for the

hand of the princess Gwendolyn.

M-marry the princess? W-when?

Upon your passing

each and every test.

Oh! Well that's different.

It takes four or five years

to become a knight, doesn't it?

We shall see.

Let the tests begin!

Uh, w-wait! What's

the hurry? I- b- ch-

He must scale a stone

wall in full armor!

Candidate passes!

Uh, b- buh... I didn't...!

With long bow, he must

slay a hawk in full flight!

He passes!

But I didn't even shoot...

The candidate passes!

But I didn't even shoot

the arrow! The arrow...

I- I didn't pass...!

The candidate must conquer

a wild boar with his bare hands!

Release the boar!

He passes!

No one enters by

the king's command!

But this is the

king's command.

Ah, maid Jean. Welcome.

What brings you here at this hour?

Concern for you, sire. - Mm?

You were so distressed last evening,

that I thought perhaps

I could comfort you,

ease the burdens of state.

Eh, don't tug it, idiot! Well that's

very considerate of you, my dear.

I shall take advantage

of your delightful offer...

perhaps this evening?

Why tarry, sire?

I am most accomplished

on matters of appearance,

and would gladly free these young men

for more important chores, elsewhere.

Well that's very

kind of you, but...

oh, yes. Pages,

I'm sure you have some very

important business to attend.

Now, then, sire, we have to

get you ready for the ceremony!

Ah, but my dear...

- Now there.

You can't imagine my feelings,

when I touch the head of a man

who calles himself the king of England.

Who IS the King of England!

And very handsome, too, sire.

On the day of your first

tournament. There you are.

Where?

Now I must go, sire.

Oh, now wait, dear, wait.

Oh, no, you have to

get to your ceremony!

But there's no hurry. We can't

start until the jester's been made ready.

The jester?!

Yes, haven't you heard?

We're knighting the poor fool.

Knighting the jester!

Yes, you'd

never guess why.

So that he can

marry the princess.

Well, that's the fool thinks,

but the moment I dub him knight,

Griswold will challenge him

for the hand of my daughter.

Mortal combat.

Yes, isn't it delicious?

He dare not refuse,

they meet at lists, and Sir Griswold's

lance runs the jester through,

as a fitting climax

to a glorious day.

Oh, my dear, you are a

delicate, lovely creature.

Tell me, does it bother you that I

may be a few years your senior?

Oh, no, sire, not really.

In fact, you remind me so much of my

dear and recently departed father.

Oh, your father, yes.

Well, was he a handsome figure

of a man? Dashing, effective...

Oh, yes, sire, 'till the scourge

brought about his untimely end.

Eh, come here, my dear.

- What a horrible death!

A little closer...

I can see him now, writhing

on the floor in agony,

like so many of his brothers and

cousins and uncles and aunts...

Yes. Would you grant

the king a little kiss?

Oh, certainly, sire, and don't

worry. They say it isn't catching.

Oh, you are a little...

catching?

Just because it runs in the family

doesn't mean that everyone has it.

Kiss me sire!

Has it? Has what?

Don't I please you, sire?

Oh, yes, yes, but, eh, these

brothers and cousins and uncles...

And aunts. Let us not talk about

their swollen, twisted, pain ridden bodies.

Hold me, take me in your

arms, tell me I am yours!

But this, this uh

writhing on the floor...

In agony.

Yes, wh-what's... how

does one catch this thing?

Oh, the touch of a hand,

the brush of a lip...

but let us not spoil this moment,

sire! Hold me, hold me close!

W-what's this

monstrous thing called?

Breckenridge's scourge.

Who's Breckenridge?

My father.

Excuse me, dear, I'm

feeling rather poorly.

Sire, the ceremony is ready.

Oh, very well. Ah, I must go, now,

my dear, and so must- so must you.

Quickly.

Dear... don't touch me.

Where's the jester?

Did you get the key?

- Yes, here it is.

It must be sent by pigeon

to the Black Fox at once!

Let the jester take it and

escape. They plan to kill him.

It'd never there in time.

The bird's our only chance.

He who approacheth, deem you

him worthy of noble knighthood?

Yea, verily, yea!

How many more

before the jester?

Just this one, sire.

...Fealty, loyalty, moisten his

lips with the vigorous wine.

Yea, verily, yea!

Now as the symbol

of honor and dignity,

let us beplume him

and helmet his brow.

Yea, verily, yea!

Sire, this storm bodes ill.

It might drench the field

and delay the tournament.

Fetch the jester and run him through

the ritual as quickly as possible.

But sire, custom...

Custom be hanged! Fetch

him and run him through!

A message for the

jester. From the king.

He requests you

do this at once.

At w-once.

He who approacheth, deem you

him ready for noble knighthood.

Yea! - Y-yea.

Hath he passed all test of valor?

Yea, verily, yea!

Now doth he flower with true nobility?

Yea, verily, yea!

Reveal him now to his sovereign liege.

Yea, verily, yea! Yea?

Faster. - Faster.

- Faster.

B-but I!

...Fealty, loyalty, moisten his

lips with the vigorous wine.

Now will he pledge to his

fealty, loyalty, courage,

and vigor and valor

and strength! - Yea!

Now as the symbol of honor and dignity,

let us beplume him and helmet his brow.

Yea, verily, yea!

Yea, verily, yea!

He who is girded and

plumed and helmeted,

Let him prepare...

Considering the virtuous

fidelity you have shown,

Rate this script:5.0 / 2 votes