A Knight's Tale

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Welcome, O life! I go to encounter for the millionth time the reality of experience and to forge in the smithy of my soul the uncreated conscience of my race.
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A Knight's Tale is a 2001 film about a peasant squire who takes up the identity of his master after an untimely demise so that he can compete in jousting tournaments.

Written and directed by Brian Helgeland.
He Will Rock You.taglines

William Thatcher

  • How did the nobles become noble in the first place? They took it at the tip of a sword. I'll do it with a lance.
  • Well then a fox you shall be until I find your name, my foxy lady.
  • [In a letter to Jocelyn] It is strange to think, I haven't seen you since a month. I have seen the new moon, but not you. I have seen sunsets and sunrises, but nothing of your beautiful face. The pieces of my broken heart are so small that they can be passed through the eye of a needle. I miss you like the sun misses the flower; like the sun misses the flower in the depths of winter. Instead of beauty to direct its light to, the heart hardens like the frozen world your absence has banished me to. I next compete in the city of Paris, I will find it empty and in the winter if you are not there. Hope guides me, it is what gets me through the day and especially the night. The hope that after you're gone from my sight, it will not be the last time that I look upon you.
  • Love has given me wings so I must fly.
  • If I could ask God one thing, it would be to stop the moon. Stop the moon and make this night and your beauty last forever.

Wat Falhurst

  • Uh, betray us, and I will fong you, until your insides are out, your outsides are in, your entrails will become your extrails I will w-rip... all the p... ugh. Pain, lots of pain.
  • [in a letter] I miss you like the sun misses the flower. Like the sun misses the flower in the depths of winter. Instead of beauty to direct it's light to the heart hardens like the frozen world your absence has banished me to.
  • All right, I'm about this fonging close mate! I swear to God, Quasimodo! I oughta...
  • We're the sons of peasants. Glory, and riches, and stars are beyond our grasps. But a full stomach, that dream can come true!
  • We're English, Geoff! We know who he is!

Geoffrey Chaucer

  • "Lilium inter spenius" [spits] The lily among the thorns.
  • You're good. You're very good. My lords, my ladies, and everybody else here not sitting on a cushion! [crowd roars] Today... today, you find yourselves equals. [crowd roars] For you are all equally blessed. For I have the pride, the privilege, nay, the pleasure of introducing to you to a knight, sired by knights. A knight who can trace his lineage back beyond Charlemagne. I first met him atop a mountain near Jerusalem, praying to God, asking his forgiveness for the Saracen blood spilt by his sword. Next, he amazed me still further in Italy when he saved a fatherless beauty from the would-be ravishing of her dreadful Turkish uncle. [crowd, boo] In Greece he spent a year in silence just to better understand the sound of a whisper. And so without further gilding the lily and with no more ado, I give to you, the seeker of serenity, the protector of Italian virginity, the enforcer of our Lord God, the one, the only, Sir Ulllrrrich von Lichtenstein! [crowd roars] Thank you, thank you, I'll be here all week.
  • Yes, master Falhurst, I'm well aware a good fonging is on the way.
  • Now I got their attention, you go and win their hearts.
  • It's a small target Will, but aim for his heart.
  • I will eviscerate you in fiction. Every pimple, every character flaw. I was naked for a day; you will be naked for eternity.
  • .........Sir Ulllrrrich von Lichtenstein! [crowd roars] God I'm good!
  • All human activity lies within the artist's scope. [Looks at Wat] Maybe not yours.
  • I give the truth scope!
  • [singing] He's quick, he's funny, he makes me lots of money, Lichtenstein! Lichtenstein!
  • Good people, I missed my introduction! But please... Please I pray you, hear it now, for I would lay rest the grace in my tongue and speak plainly. Days like these are far too rare to cheapen with heavy handed words, and so, I'm afraid without any ado whatsoever... Excuse me My Lord... Here he is, one of your own, born a stone's throw from this very stadium, and here before you now, the son of John Thatcher... Sir Wiiiiiilliam Thatcheeer!
  • [Watching Jocelyn enter William's tent at night] Guinevere comes to Lancelot. Bed him well, my lady. Bed him well.

Others

  • John Thatcher: Change your stars and live a better life than I have.
  • Adhemar: You have been weighed, you have been measured, and you have been found wanting. In what world could you possibly beat me? Come back when you're worthy.
  • Prince Edward: Your men love you. If I knew nothing else about you, that would be enough.
  • Prince Edward: If I may repay the kindness you once showed me. Take a knee...
  • Roland: God love you, William. So do I.
  • Roland: Well, Master Nude, having failed the test, have you any more to say?
  • Kate: [in a letter] With hope. Love should end with hope. My husband, God rest him, told me something I'll never forget. Hope guides me. It is what gets me through the day and especially the night. The hope that after you're gone from my sight it will not be the last time I look upon you.
  • Jocelyn: I love you. There is nothing else to do. Run and I will run with you.
  • Jocelyn: Do not shush me, and spare him. Be gone! Go!

Dialogue

William: Father, I am afraid, I won't know the way back home.
John Thatcher: Don't be foolish, William, you just follow your feet.

William: Oi sir, what are you doing?
Chaucer: Uh... trudging. You know, trudging? [pause] To trudge: the slow, weary, depressing yet determined walk of a man who has nothing left in life except the impulse to simply soldier on.
William: Uhhh... were you robbed?
Chaucer: [laughs] Funny really, yes, but at the same time a huge resounding no. It's more of an... involuntary vow of poverty... really.

Chaucer: I'm a writer.
Wat: A what?
Chaucer: A wha- a what? A writer. I write, with ink and parchment. Geoffrey Chaucer's the name, writing's the game. You've read my book? the Book of the Duchess? No? Well, it was allegorical.
Roland: Well, we won't hold that against you, that's for every man to decide for himself.

Wat: What do you mean, dead?
Roland: The spark of his life is smothered in shite. His spirit is gone but his stench remains. Does that answer your question?

William: I've waited my whole life for this moment.
Wat: You've waited your whole life for Sir Ector to shite himself to death?

William: I'll ride in his place.
Roland: What's your name, William? I'm asking you, William Thatcher, to answer me with your name. It's not Sir William. It's not Count, or Duke or Earl William. It's certainly not King William.
William: I'm aware of that.
Roland: You have to be of noble birth to compete!
William: A detail. The landscape is food. Do you want to eat or don't you?
Roland: If the nobles find out who you are there'll be the devil to pay.
William: Then pray that they don't.

William: I'm Ulrich von Leichtenstein, from Gelderland, and these are my faithful squires. [gestures to Roland] Delves, of Dodgington, [gestures to Wat] and Falhurst, of Crew.
Chaucer: I'm Richard the Lionheart. Pleased to meet you. No, wait a minute, I'm Charlemagne. No, I'm Saint John the Baptist!
[William draws a dagger]
William: All right, hold your tongue sir, or lose it.
Chaucer: Now, you see, that I do believe...Sir Ulrich.

William: You were never robbed, were you?
Chaucer: Look, I have a gambling problem. I can't help myself. And these people will - quite literally - take off clothes of your back.
William: What are you expecting us to do about it?
Peter The Pardoner of Rouen: He assured us that you, his liege, would pay us.
William: And who are you?
Peter The Pardoner of Rouen: Peter, a humble pardoner and purveyor of religious relics.
William: How much does he owe you?
Simon The Summoner of Rouen: Ten gold florins.
Wat: You lanky git! :[attacks Chaucer]
William: Hey! Hey, Wat - let him go! [Pulls Wat off him]
Chaucer: [Holding injured hand] OW!
William: What would you do to him, if I was to refuse?
Simon The Summoner of Rouen: We, on behalf of the lord God, would take it out of his flesh, so that he may understand that gambling is a sin.
Chaucer: :[pleading] Oh, come on, please, Will...
[Summoner is piqued at this slip of the tongue; Chaucer recovers]
Chaucer:...please, will you help me, Sir Ulrich? I promise you won't regret it.
William: I don't have the money.
[Chaucer's face falls]
William: Release him. For God's sake, give him back his clothes, and you'll get it.
Simon The Summoner of Rouen: Done.

William: Your name lady, I still need to hear it.
Jocelyn: Sir hunter, you persist.
William: Or perhaps angels have no names, only beautiful faces.

William: I can't explain it. She makes me feel like a poet.
Roland: Well you may feel like a poet, but you sound like an idiot. You don't even know her name.

William: Oh, this is a disaster.
Roland: [staring at the tent material] Nah, I think it'll tunic up quite nicely, give me your dagger Wat.

Adhemar: And you are?
William: Well, I am, um.
Adhemar: Have you forgotten, or your name is Sir Um? (crowd snickers)
William: Ulrich von Lichtenstein from Gelderland.
Adhemar: Well, I'd forget as well, what a mouthful. (crowd snickers)

Adhemar: Your armor, sir.
William: What about it?
Adhemar: How stylish of you to joust in an antique. You'll start a new fashion if you win. My grandfather will be able to wear his in public again, and a shield, how quaint.
William: [Angrily] Hyah! [William rides off]
Adhemar: Some of these poor country knights, little better than peasants.

Chaucer: Yes, behold my lord Ulrich, the rock, the hard place, like a wind from Gelderland he sweeps by blown far from his homeland in search of glory and honor, we walk in the garden of his turbulence.
[crowd is silent, cricket noise]
Roland: ...Yeah.
Crowd: Yeahhhhh!

Chaucer: Very good.
William: Was she watching? Geoff.
Chaucer: What?
William: Did she see me?
Chaucer: Yes, she saw you.
William: Did she see me take the hit?
Chaucer: Yes, she saw you take the hit.
William: Well, was she concerned?
Chaucer: It was dreadful, her eyes welled up, it was awful.

Roland: Well, that was different.
Chaucer: Well, it's time we celebrate our differences.
Roland: Just maybe not in public.

[William, short on cash, is trying to have his broken armor repaired]

William: Excuse me-
Kate: Don't work for free.
William: And I can't joust with broken armor.
Kate: Your problem, not mine. Each droplet of sweat has a price on it.
William: :[Pauses, than thinks of something] It's just as well, they said I was daft for even asking.
Kate: Who?
William: Oh, the other armorers.
Kate: Did they say I couldn't do it because I'm a woman?
William: No, they said you were great with horseshoes, but shite with armor. The fact that you were a woman wasn't even mentioned.
[Kate rushes over and grabs the armor from William]

Chaucer: There she is, William. The embodiment of love. Your Venus.
William: And how I hate her.

William: Wat, you remember church as a boy, the fear, the passion! That what she makes me feel. And for that I say my rosary to Jocelyn and no one else.
Wat: William, that's blasphemous.

William: You favor cathedrals.
Jocelyn: I come for confession. And the glass... A riot of color in a dreary grey world.

Old Bishop: [after William rides into the cathedral on a horse to woo Jocelyn] Does this not shock you, ladies?
Jocelyn: Certainly, my lord, I just, I only laugh just to keep from weeping.
Old Bishop: [Understandingly] Beauty is such a curse. Pray your years come swiftly for you, pray your beauty fades that you may better serve God.
Jocelyn: Oh, and I do, my lord. I pray for it all the time. Why, God, did you curse me with this face?
Old Bishop: God's will has a purpose, but we may not know it. :[Extends his hand so that she may kiss his ring]
Jocelyn: [goes to kiss hand, but instead admires the costly ring on his finger] Oh, that is lovely...

Wat: I don't understand women.
Chaucer: Nor do I. But they understand us. Well, maybe not you.

Chaucer: [Keeping beat for a dance lesson] And one and two and three and four and your hands should be light like a birdie on a branch. And one and two and three and four and Wat doesn't lead he follows like a girl. [Wat punches him] And one and two and twirlie twirlie twirlie! And one and two and you're still getting it wrong! And one and two and three and four you can hit me all day cause you punch like a... what?
Roland: A girl!

[Watching William practice jousting]

Roland:(to William) Unlucky!
Wat: I think he's getting worse.
Roland: He is getting worse.

Chaucer: Are you mad? You knowingly endanger a member of the royal family?
William: He knowingly endangers himself.

Chaucer: We regret to inform your lady that my lord will not be attending...
William: Herald, do not answer questions you do not know the answer to!
Chaucer: Absolutely, my lord.

Jocelyn: I've come to see what you'll wear to banquet tonight.
William: Nothing.
Jocelyn: Well, then we'll cause a sensation, for I'll dress to match.
William: Don't you ever get tired of putting on clothes?
Chaucer: [mutters to William] Um, I believe she's talking about taking them off, my lord.
Jocelyn: A flower is only as good as its petals. Don't you think?
William: A flower is good for nothing.
Jocelyn: Really?
William: You can't eat a flower, a flower can't keep your warm...
Jocelyn: And a rose never knocked a man off a horse either.
William: You're just a silly girl, aren't you?
Jocelyn: Better a silly girl with a flower, than a silly boy with a horse and a stick... [walks away]
Wat: It's called a lance... hello... ?

Adhemar: Why didn't Ulrich finish him?
Jocelyn: He shows mercy.
Adhemar: Then he shows his weakness - for that is all mercy is.

Wat: Say something about her breasts.
Roland: Yeah, you miss her breasts.
William: Her breasts?
Chaucer: Ye... yes, you... you could, umm... umm... but I... I would tend to look above her breasts, William.
William: Her throat?
Chaucer: Uh, still higher really, toward the heavens.
Kate: The moon at least, her breasts were not that impressive.

Jocelyn: I demand poetry, and when I want it, and I want it now.
William: Your breasts... they're beneath your throat.

Kate: It is romantic though.
Roland: Are you a woman or a blacksmith?
Kate: Sometimes I'm both.

Jocelyn: Your name makes no matter to me, so long as I may call you my own.
William: Oh, but I am your own, Jocelyn.

Jocelyn: Run and I will run with you.
William: I cannot run!

William: Where will we live? In my hovel? With the pigs inside during the winter to keep from freezing?
Jocelyn: Yes, William. With the pigs.

Jocelyn: Damn your pride, William. It is you and only you that will not see you run.
William: My pride is the only thing that they can't take from me.
Jocelyn: They can take it away from you, they can and they will. Oh, they will. But love they cannot take.

William: I will not lose.
Jocelyn: Then you do not love me.

Roland: God love you, William.
William: I know, I know. 'Cause no one else will.

French Squire 1: An Englishman will not win this French tournament. English legs are unsteady on French soil.
French Squire 2: And because French wine is too much for English bellies.
French Squire 3: And most importantly, because the Pope himself is French.
Roland: Well, the Pope may be French, but Jesus is English! You're on!

Adhemar: And how would you beat him?
Fence: With a stick. While he slept. But on a horse, with a lance? That man is unbeatable.

Adhemar: In what world could you have ever beaten me?
William: (Leaning in) Let's dance, you and I.

Roland: What are you doing?
William: Losing.
Roland: I don't understand!
William: Neither do I.

[Standing over Adhemar]
Wat: You have been weighed.
Roland: You have been measured.
Kate: And you have absolutely...
Chaucer: Been found wanting.
William: Welcome to a New World. God save you, if it is right that he should do so.

Taglines

  • He Will Rock You.
  • He didn't make the rules. He was born to break them.

Cast

External links

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