:22:01
That's far enough.
:22:05
Let's have a look at your legs.
:22:25
Next.
:22:31
And so, Your Majesty...
:22:33
...your great-great-great-great-
great-grandfather...
:22:38
...King Max the Vainglorious,
by a tournament...
:22:42
...chose from his knights a champion
to free the kingdom from pestilence.
:22:47
Mounted on his mighty charger,
Sir Bromiades waged--
:22:57
What's that?
:22:59
Quickly, man. Somebody
might be trying to poison me.
:23:06
-Plaster, Your Majesty.
-Oh. Carry on, Passelewe.
:23:11
-Mounted on his--
-The 1 1th--
:23:15
-Mounted on his mighty--
-No, wait. Twelfth century.
:23:18
Shut up! Fool!
:23:22
Carry on.
:23:23
Until peace was once more
restored to the kingdom.
:23:27
With that, King Max rode back
to the cheers of his subjects...
:23:31
...who lined the road for 50 miles.
:23:34
Fifty miles? Do you mean
they cheered him all that way?
:23:38
Wow! They certainly
must have respected him.
:23:44
You're right.
We'll hold a tournament.
:23:47
It's years since we've heard the
clash of sword against shield...
:23:52
...the clamour of armoured
knights crashing to the ground...
:23:56
...the spurt of blood as the dagger
is thrust into unprotected groin.