Ivanhoe

In the 12th century, at the close of the Third Crusade to free the Holy Land...

... a Saxon knight, called Wilfred of Ivanhoe...

... undertook a private crusade of his own.

England's warrior king, Richard the Lion-Hearted...

... had disappeared during his homeward march, vanishing without trace.

His disappearance dealt a cruel blow to his unhappy country...

... already in turmoil from the bitter conflict between Saxon and Norman.

And in time, most of his subjects came to mourn him as dead.

But Ivanhoe's faith that his king still lived...

... took him on an endless quest from castle to castle...

... until, at last, he came to Austria.

Who are you? What do you want of me?

Tell me what is written here. I read no Austrian.

Happily, I read English.

Read it to me happily, then.

"To the people of England...

... I am here held captive by Leopold of Austria.

My brother, Prince John, has knowledge of it...

... yet he has denied me ransom, 150,000 marks of silver.

I fear he does conspire with certain Norman knights...

... to seize my throne.

People of England, speed my deliverance.

Your kingdom is at stake. "

- It is signed... - I know the hand that signed it.

But the eyes that saw it shall forget that name and all they read.

Or this knife will pluck them out and cast them to the crows.

Do you remember what you saw?

I have forgotten every syllable.

"Prince John...

... and certain Norman knights. "

"Certain Norman knights. "

These glades go on forever.

I hope we find shelter before nightfall, Bois-Guilbert.

What do you fear, De Bracy, Saxon hobgoblins?

No, a Saxon arrow in the small of my back.

I wager there's a cutthroat behind every tree trunk.

Aye. And soon, they'll be hanging from them.

Unless we are.

God save you, knight.

And God save you. We ride to Ashby. Which crossroad do we take?

The right will take you to Ashby.

- Shall we get there by nightfall? - By nightfall tomorrow.

Tomorrow? Can you show us the way to a roof for the night?

I know of a roof nearby, but perhaps you would scorn it.

Why? Is it humble?

No, sire. It is Saxon.

I'd sooner bivouac by the road.

- 'Tis a fine night. - To be butchered in one's sleep.

- Would you sooner walk into a Saxon trap? - What is this house you speak of?

Rotherwood, the keep of Cedric the Saxon.

I believe I know this Cedric the Saxon.

Has he a ward, a woman of great beauty?

The Saxon princess, Lady Rowena, is his ward.

Aye, Rowena. 'Tis the same Cedric.

He loves us not, but we would sleep safe beneath his roof.

- You know the way? - Well enough to lead.

Then lead us, but one false step and you'll sing a different song.

I have a song to fit every occasion.

- He means he'll lop your head off, minstrel. - Yes, sire, I knew what he meant.

- Now, Locksley, while they're in range. - Peace, hothead. Would you slay lvanhoe?

- Ivanhoe died in the Holy Land. - The troubadour is lvanhoe.

He takes those Normans to his father's.

Ivanhoe defied his father when he went to the war. Cedric cast him off.

He would never go back, unless he's turned traitor to the Saxons.

Put down your bows.

I'll know why he takes those Normans to his father before I'll believe ill...

... of Sir lvanhoe or Cedric. And so shall you, you rattle-pate.

By your leave, milord, two knights do request food and lodging.

They are Normans, lately returned from the Holy Land.

If they break no laws of courtesy as guests, I'll break none as host.

Bid them enter and depart in peace, or else depart in pieces.

Elgitha, tell the lady Rowena I do not desire her presence here tonight.

But she is pining for news from the Holy Land.

When she hears they are Normans, she'll want none of their news.

Tell her to keep to her chambers till we're quit of them tomorrow.

Sir Brian De Bois-Guilbert and Sir Hugh De Bracy, milord.

We come in peace, Sir Cedric.

In peace, I greet you.

We come, also, as friends.

I greet no one in friendship, save those who share the royal Saxon blood.

Homely fare is before you. Eat your fill of it.

Take me to the Lady Rowena.

Who is there?

A sort of fool, milady.

Come in, Wamba. Make me laugh a little.

Tonight, milady, I do not play the fool.

I play the wizard.

Close your eyes, and I will perform...

... a wonder.

How long must I keep my eyes closed?

Till you have wished.

What shall I wish for?

Whom do you hold most dear?

You know who that is.

Say his name, and he shall come to you.

Ivanhoe.

- Oh, I knew, I knew. - Knew what, Rowena?

I knew that you were safe and that you were alive and that you loved me still.

I used to reach out my hands at night when I couldn't sleep...

... and there was only darkness all around me.

And I'd feel your fingertips touch mine...

... and I knew you were still alive, and I was comforted.

There was never a day nor an hour when your hand was not in mine.

Why are you crying?

I'm... I'm too happy to laugh.

- I've never known such happiness. - Nor have I, ever.

It's as if you'd never been away, as if I'd never suffered any loneliness...

... except in a dream that I awoke from when you kissed me.

This was not a dream, though.

The scars are almost gone.

Do you remember how afraid you were?

Not when you cut my wrist, only when you cut your own.

And I know I didn't show it.

You were trembling as you knelt beside me when we made our vow to God.

While my blood mingled with yours.

Does my father hate me still?

No one is allowed to speak your name.

Then I must make my peace with him as swiftly as I can.

- Ivanhoe, what trouble are you in? - None yet.

But Richard is not dead. He's held for ransom in Austria...

... and John would keep him there. I've snared two Norman hawks below.

I cannot hood them single-handed. I need aid.

- What help can I be? - Come and draw them out.

These are John's friends. If my father will help me...

... I can trick them into telling what they know.

And if he will not help you?

Then, indeed, I have no father.

Where's Wamba? Where's my fool? I want to be amused.

And you'll find it hard enough to do.

- I've been unavoidably delayed, milord. - Delayed? How so?

When I heard Normans were approaching...

... I ran to lock up my wife.

But she'd also heard they were approaching...

... and locked me up instead.

A fool's wife is safe, milord.

We are bound for combat against your Saxon knights at Ashby, three days hence.

- Not for any Saxon lady's chamber. - And how will you spend...

... your last three days on earth?

It will not be my friend and I who will die. Will you be there to see the Saxons fall?

Milord, there is a stranger at your gate who begs shelter.

He is a Jew who calls himself Isaac of York.

I share no roof with an infidel.

Why not, sir knight? For every Jew you show me who's not a Christian...

... l'll show you a Christian who's not a Christian.

Why should my guests be subject to your prejudices...

... when they have not been subject to my own? Bid this traveler enter in peace.

I come in peace, milord.

May God reward your mercy.

In peace, I greet you.

Make a place for him at the table, and give him food and drink.

If hearsay does not lie, you have a ward of surpassing beauty, milord.

Why is the hall dimmed by the absence of the brightest flame in Saxon England?

Because, sir knight, we Saxons have learned to hide our light under a bushel.

Are we condemned never to pay homage to her?

No Saxon princess seeks homage from the men who took her lands by conquest...

... threw down her ancient laws and put her subjects to the sword.

Those well-chewed scraps of bile were better thrown to the dogs...

... than to Normans.

While such as you were sulking here at home...

... we held the infidel at bay in England's name...

... and fell before his fury.

If our blood is red enough to bleed for England...

... it's red enough to pay homage to any woman:

Saxon, Norman, Dane or Celt.

Then pay me your homage, sir...

... and let me be the judge of its gallantry.

We pay you homage, milady.

But it must be silent homage, for words would fail it...

... just as they have failed my friend, and all but failed me.

I thank you, sir knight.

There are questions that I would ask of you...

... as soon as your tongue is loose again.

At your command, milady.

What is the news from the Holy Land?

Alas, milady, I can add little to what you must already know.

The war has ended in a truceless truce once more...

... and Richard vanished upon the wind that once made up the better part of him.

Richard should've stayed at home and kept England...

... and left Jerusalem to be lost by knights like you...

... who lost it anyway.

Are you for Richard, milord, or for John?

Richard and John had the same mother

One was a Norman So, what was the other?

Both were Norman, true.

But Richard, with all his faults, was for England.

And John?

John is for John.

Then you're against John?

That's another Norman question. Shall I answer it for you, milord?

No, I would have my questions answered first. Sir knight...

... I believe there were tournaments between Saxon and Norman knights...

... to prove which was more valiant. - Aye, milady, in the Holy Land.

The Saxons were at last taught to bow to their betters.

And yet, I hear the Saxons won the tournaments.

How does a Saxon lady come to know so much of such distant matters?

Only from the tales I hear, sir knight.

And I was told that in the tournament at Acre...

... Richard of England led five of his Saxon knights into combat...

... and vanquished all who challenged them.

The one who fell was named De Bracy.