As primeiras 182 linhas.
Can somebody tell me what's going on?
Don't be foolish, Walter. Get him back to bed.
Bar the door. I'm still the master of this house.
Richard, up.
Who is there?
Wake up, Thomas.
Open the gates!
Bastards.
Arrow.
The lantern.
I see you, you little bastards.
I see you!
Thieving maggots.
They've taken all our seed grain.
What are we going to do for planting?
Pray.
Hello, there!
Here you go, lad.
Thank you, Robin.
Robin.
The archers been called to ranks.
Bloody typical. I'm starving.
Hide these well.
We'll have them for supper instead.
Sire.
Your bath, Sire.
For the love of Christ, Loxley, would you stop them doing that!
They love you, Sire.
My head. It's going like the bells of hell.
Is that it?
One more castle to sack, then we're home to England.
Hail King Richard!
Release!
Push!
Push!
Hey, archer!
Stay alive!
I'll see you tonight.
Don't forget your money this time, little man.
It will be my pleasure to take it off you.
Push!
Move up!
Cover the King! Cover the King!
Barricades prepare!
Let us put these French to bed!
Raise the barricades!
Jimmy.
Calm and careful. Make it count.
Go!
Help!
Cover!
Now.
Go!
Move back!
Blood for France!
Go!
It'll make a fine pin cushion!
King Philip's arse!
Look what they do for the Lion Heart!
Look what they do for the Lion Heart!
Push!
Push!
That'll burn all night, lads. Don't let them put it out.
These pricks will smash through in the morning, take all the credit.
Well done, Jimmy boy.
John...
Your Majesty.
An English princess shut out of her husband's bedchamber
by a piece of French pastry!
Aren't you ashamed?
The shame is surely his.
Then go in and tell him.
Mewling at his keyhole is neither one thing nor the other.
John.
(PRINCE JOHN AND ISABELLA LAUGHING)
Oh, God! What in heaven...
Mademoiselle, you will excuse me.
My son has need of my advice.
No, I don't. Ask her.
Mother, please, have you no decency?
I happen to be in a condition that no mother should see her son in.
Yes, I know, but it's my mother.
That's enough.
On second thoughts,
I think it better that you do hear what I have to say.
Though I will not have you in my presence.
Mother.
The purpose of my being in this room is to save the realm
from the consequences of this unsuitable amusement.
Her uncle is the bloody King of France.
My uncle is... (EXHALING) Get down.
Her uncle wants her back.
Philip wants an excuse to cross
the Channel with an army.
And you have given him that excuse.
Take up your lawful wife and save England.
My lawful wife is as barren as a brick.
Is that truly the wife you want for me?
Hmm?
You, who honored your husband with eight children
so that even now when death has taken the rest
you have a king and the runt of the litter to call you "Mother."
Better the bastard of a servant girl
than bed the niece of England's jealous enemy.
Or bed her and wed her, Mother.
I've asked the Pope's men to arrange an annulment.
And do you think the Pope
will favor England's royal runt over the King of France?
He might see his way for the son of Eleanor of Aquitaine.
And for the future King of England.
Richard the Lion Heart is 40 years old, if not more.
And no babies.
I am a queen in the making.
Yes. Yes.
You see?
She is my Eleanor.
Now, you do understand, this game is not about luck.
It's about the science of memory and a quick hand.
Who'd like to take a bit of fresh meat home?
Caught this morning. We have a pheasant.
Three choices. Right, left or middle?
Middle.
"The middle," he says. The middle.
I'm sorry about those onions, young man. You lose.
Robin! Over here, they're needed for the pot.
Feisty one!
Aye, what else we got, what else we got?
The fire will do its work.
We break through at first light.
With a fair wind, we can be home in three days.
You return to Nottingham?
I have a wife who waits for me.
I have a mother that won't die
and a brother who wishes me dead.
First thing I'm going to do is lock them up.
Your people will rejoice to see you return home.
And that is a condition I would like to keep them in.
To be remembered as I was.
My army knows better.
Lion Heart is mangy.
Every man in that army idolizes you, Your Majesty.
Don't mollycoddle me.
I understand how difficult it must be to befriend a king.
Come on, Loxley. Let us find some ruffians, drink and laugh.
Let us see if we can find an honest man.
Yes.
Let's do that.
Well, that's the thing, little man. This is not a game of luck.
It's about the science of memory and a quick hand.
I've got a quick eye. I'll be watching you.
Three choices.
Right, left, or middle.
I think I'll take a fourth choice.
A fourth? Hmm.
I've been watching you for a while now, Longstride.
There is no pea.
This game is a trick!
You take out the pea when you're doing your slidings and your turnings.
I got you.
Don't touch it again.
I'll do it!
You lose.
You're doing better than you think.
Get in there, Robin.
Kneel, you ignorant bastards!
Kneel before the King!
All of you, move back, now.
No, no, Loxley. These men are soldiers at play.
Sinners after mine own heart.
Which one of you started the fight?
I did, Sire.
I threw the first punch.
Ah, honest man.
And who're you fighting?
He was fighting me, Your Majesty.
I thought him to be a lesser man.
He was showing me different.
An enemy that shows his respect.
Stand up, the pair of you.
Not you.
Brave and honest.
Are you honest enough to tell a king something that he does not want to hear?
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