Ivanhoe

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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,

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.

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