:42:00
It takes more than a lisping Norman
to unhorse my son.
:42:03
You have no son.
:42:05
I've heard you say it.
:42:11
Your foe has bloodied you, sir knight.
Will you concede defeat?
:42:17
You fight too well to die so mean a death.
:42:21
Will you not throw in your lot
with me instead?
:42:24
That would be an even meaner death,
Your Grace.
:42:37
Lower your lance.
:42:41
By laws of chivalry,
you've earned the right to choose...
:42:44
...who shall be queen of love and beauty
at our sport.
:42:47
It is our pleasure you shall appoint her...
:42:49
...so that one, at least, shall mourn you
when you lie cold beneath your shield.
:43:33
A Saxon queen.
:43:34
Confound the dog!
Is there no end to his insults?
:43:37
- Why does he plague me so?
- Forget him, Your Highness.
:43:40
His strutting cannot harm you.
You're too well-loved.
:43:43
Wake up. The crown is not so firmly on my
head that I can let a rebel tilt at it in public.
:43:48
You speak of the dead, Your Highness.
:43:51
- He now faces Bois-Guilbert.
- I hope he cleaves him so he splits in two.
:43:58
We know you, sir knight.
:43:59
From this moment on, at any time,
at any price, we are your men.