What's taking you so long?
I don't know. I'm baffled.
Take a look at the pair of sissies.
It's too much for them.
Is this weather a joke?
We're not equipped.
We say it's invigorating.
- In Rome, we say...
- It's never this cold!
Not since the Ice Age, anyway.
Move your bums, darlings.
If you keep sitting there,
you'll freeze them off!
He's right. We should move.
If the idea appeals to you,
go ahead.
ISLAND OF BRITAIN
YEARS BEFORE KAAMELOTT
Book VI
The power of Nature's conquests
dwarfs those of Man.
Right?
Is that boat yours?
It's my mate's.
It isn't ours. We stole it.
Good idea.
Want to go for a sail?
Is it a Roman boat?
- A warship.
- Stolen from the Romans.
We're outlaws
who steal Roman ships.
But you wear Roman uniforms.
We found them on board.
You're not Romans.
No, we're not.
I'm a Breton.
- Me too.
- We don't like Romans.
- We can't stand them either.
- That's why we steal their stuff.
We saw them k*ll our mother,
when we were .
But our mother had just k*lled
of them, by poisoning.
We're headed for the fort
next to Hadrian's Wall.
- For an att*ck?
- They guard it well.
The uniforms will fool them.
They're dumb.
Our brother says that someday,
he'll tell Dad he's going fishing,
and he'll go att*ck a ship
in his rowboat.
He wants to att*ck a trireme?
At the right time, he'll strike.
To reach the fort,
go down the coast to the wall.
Then follow the wall inland.
CARMELIDE ARMY CAMP
A new Pendragon?
Is that good for us?
It depends.
KINGDOM OF LOGRES
That's no answer.
Everything always depends.
It depends
on the son's resemblance.
If he's just as insane.
I've never seen the son.
The father's a major psychopath.
We'd like to know.
He is my future husband, after all.
If he's bringing Britain a -year
headache, we should k*ll him,
not feed him.
You'd k*ll him tonight?
Already?
But first we'll take a look at him.
Thinking before acting?
What's wrong?
I won't rescind
the power I gave you.
But don't be a fruitcake.
HADRIAN'S WALL FORT
BRITO-ROMAN ZONE
Ave, General.
Ave, General.
Okay.
You must have a lot to talk about.
Maybe not.
According to protocol,
you must have a private meeting...
indoors.
That's the protocol?
Yes. I didn't make it up.
Private means without us?
Just the two of them.
New Dux Bellorum
and the ex.
Please don't take offence
at the term.
I can't sit in?
If we can't, neither can you.
Stay in your place,
ill-deserved as it is.
It's good to go outside.
More room to wallop you.
That's enough!
We have to talk.
So let's.
Nice rings.
What's that one?
A gift from Caesar.
My wife.
And the other?
My wedding ring.
I thought it was a punishment to be
posted here, but it's an honour.
I tend to misunderstand.
Do you?
What?
Do you feel it's a disgrace?
I don't know.
It is.
We've done no wrong.
I didn't say the army was fair.
Otherwise...
Any advice?
About Bretons?
I kept a diary.
Almost daily,
after the second year.
A few lines a day...
At the end, the , tablets
took up a whole tent!
I wish you could have read them.
It's a shame.
- Where are they?
- Melted.
Was there a fire?
I set fire to the tent.
There's a big pool of wax now.
On the ground.
But why did you do that?
The contents were too sad.
It reflected poorly on me.
I'm usually cheerful.
My Macedonian grandmother
says I was always smiling,
even at strangers.
For instance, if you'd known me
when I was a little boy,
I'd have smiled at you.
I destroyed the diary.
People may ask you what I was like.
Tell them
I was blond, curly-headed,
and always smiling.
A curly-headed, smiling boy.
Always smiling.
Did he leave?
No speech?
No, he's gone.
- He left his bags.
- He went straight to the boat.
You didn't follow?
He forbade it.
He seemed fine.
He was smiling.
Should I give a speech to the men?
The men are in their tents.
Better not disturb them.
Is that so?
It's a mutiny.
They're just a bit gloomy.
There are two ways to deal with it:
Punish them for insubordination,
or...
No, thanks.
Come for a talk with me.
Don't get in a huff.
It may take time to tame them.
And you?
Will it take time to tame you?
No, I'm good-natured and helpful.
Caring.
Like my aunt!
An exceptional woman.
Feisty, sometimes...
One time, she...
Tell me tomorrow.
Right now, I have a spy mission.
Find me Breton garb.
For me
and the centurion Manilus.
I never discuss orders,
but we do have spies.
I know,
but I am brand-new here.
Until I've tamed them,
I'd rather not ask too much.
That's a clever way
to tame the blokes:
a Dux Bellorum
who does his own espionage.
I'm not a snob.
- The clothing?
- Directly.
You said local garb.
Do you mean from here?
- Local from here?
- From Britain.
Yes.
Wait a minute!
What's the deal?
He doesn't have the sword yet?
Explain.
You two are always slow
on the uptake.
Our spies say
the sword's still in the stone.
You invite us to your hovel
to meet Britain's new king,
but there isn't any!
He simply has yet to be confirmed.
So he's still a regular pauper.
Great. You never side with me,
do you?
Am I wrong?
A pauper!
And I'm supposed to marry him soon.
How encouraging!
- Who are you going to marry?
- The new king?
I see!
You've lost no time!
- A hand-picked queen.
- I'll explain.
It's politics.
No, you're marrying for love,
- we said.
- Sorry, I forgot.
I don't know him, though.
How I can love him?
Love's a mystery.
If he fails with the sword,
what will happen?
Listen, you smelly fools.
First,
you may be insulting a king
designated by the gods.
That might piss them off.
Secondly,
get your asses in the tent
so we can eat. I'm starving!
I'm not feeding.
I offered you a snack,
but not a meal!
There's a snack! Thank goodness.
Sorry, sh*t-pickers.
I said nothing.
I warn you,
don't expect miracles.
Did they do a quest or not?
They did, but...
For some people,
the quest doesn't...
Doesn't what?
You understand!
No, we don't.
If a man hasn't performed
a spectacular m*llitary feat,
just reject him.
It depends on how you define
spectacular.
Something few people can do.
Something
that will impress posterity.
To be frank with you,
I'm not sure posterity
will be impressed.
People around here
aren't exactly overachievers.
I know them!
I think I do.
What's wrong?
- Nettles!
- It stings!
What did you throw?
Crushed sand.
Crushed sand?
- We took sand and crushed it.
- To blind you.
We made it too fine, though.
Like smoke.
Next time, we'll know.
Why att*ck us?
He's that guy
who was on about quests.
You went to see them?
I must have.
- Don't you recall?
- Of course not! I went everywhere.
In France, too.
I don't remember everyone I met.
I'm Caradoc, from Vannes.
With the Chinese guy.
You met my father, in Wales.
Pellinor, stinking old fart.
He can talk farming for hours.
Quite possible. But why att*ck us?
We didn't know it was you.
We saw the swords
and pegged you as Romans.
You jumped Britain's future king.
Oops!
Good thing we screwed it up.
Proves we're not lily-bellied.
Livered.
Lily-livered.
Livered?
How could that be?
If it was white, maybe.
But then you're dead.
Your liver would be bloodless.
The liver's in the belly.
So we weren't far off.
What is this? Why's it freezing
out here in East Bumfuck?
It's healthy. Invigorating!
I've heard
Bretons flock here for it.
They flock here for the sword.
For the invigorousness, too.
What's that white stuff?
What, snow?
That's snow?
Let's go home, Arturus.
We can't stay in this country.
It's the altitude, that's all.
Some excuse.
Also, around the rock,
there's a microclimate.
Personally, I'd call it a curse.
What a joke!
That's your Druid side.
" Microclimate" is your idiot side.
It's obvious to any fool:
for years, the sword's
been stuck, we've had no king,
and it snows all year round!
It's the microclimate!
Excuse me,
is that thing up there the stone?
That's it, indeed.
There's snow everywhere!
Let's go home.
- He's ruining everything!
- Stop whining and enjoy it.
Enjoy frostbite?
Knighthood should be better.
You're a knight already?
They jumped the g*n.
Wait for me here.
Why?
If I screw up, I want to be alone.
Don't jinx yourself!
Be valiant, or the gods
won't recognise you.
Wait here. I'll be back.
I just came to watch.
I figured
you'd show up sooner or later.
What?
Nothing!
- What if I screw up?
- You won't.
But what if I do, anyway?
Give it a go. We'll see.
Go away.
You're making me nervous.
Come on!
Get the hell out of here!
In a tavern? Are you sure?
- It doesn't sound very...
- Very what?
Very secret.
It's secret from Romans.
Recruiting knights in a bar
- doesn't sound very classy.
- It's that, or outside.
Where it's freezing!
A tavern will be fine.
It's one of our favourites.
We can give you a hand.
Sure! Event organizing...
Make a queue.
No, thanks.
It's not a bad idea.
The place will be mobbed.
We can set up the tables.
We can also be bouncers.
You'll need it.
We'll organize everything!
Who are these jerks?
Why are they following us?
Just don't draft them. You'll see.
Can't wait to get rid of them.
The idea is, we don't eat?
Sure you do. A meal is planned.
Where is it?
Sure?
They've been talking about food
for days.
We'll scare some up.
Tell me...
We were wondering about food.
What?
- Is there any?
- Yes.
Trunkfuls!
Isn't anything cooking?
Nothing!
It's dried.
Dried food keeps,
and it's easy to pack up.
Why pack it up?
It's a feast for the king, right?
But if this bloke
can't pull out the sword,
he isn't the king.
If he comes,
sword in hand, I feed you.
If not, I pack up the food.
I understand.
The king of Britain gets to eat,
but we don't deserve to.
Right. You assholes can just
go home and eat.
I'm fed up
with regaling "important" warlords.
If they're important,
they can afford food!
What about me?
I'm hungry, too.
You get to eat.
We can serve you, but...
You'd have to eat in front of them.
Doesn't bother me!
I don't get it.
Isn't King Arthur here?
Yes, King Arthur is here.
But someone else interviews you.
Who?
You?
Yeah. Is that a problem?
It depends. Who are you?
We're the interviewers
King Arthur appointed, okay?
Why doesn't
he interview knights himself?
He's doing it at another table.
There are too many applicants.
I see. Okay.
So it's a question
of who you get, the king
or his flunkies.
The king
may be pickier than we are!
You have a better chance
of being chosen here.
Even after what I called you?
The word "flunky" probably
did take points off your score.
We'll try to be objective.
Question :
What adjective defines you best?
Determined.
Muckraker.
Sorry. Muck-raker!
I have an order of sausages
and apple wine. Am I right?
Set it down.
Which one is King Arthur?
He's incognito!
Amazing! You rescued
that many people in so little time?
Why "so little time"?
The first was when I was .
I thought you'd just started,
when I asked.
Was I supposed to wait?
No. But even so,
it's an impressive record.
My only goal is to rescue people.
Perfect. Are you ready
to sign up to serve a federation?
The only thing is,
I'm a solitary knight.
That matters to me.
A solitary knight.
I see. But I wonder...
Will it fit in?
There is this little idea
of community.
Fine, as long as everyone
is aware I'm a solitary knight.
I don't mind.
Do you understand?
I admit I don't.
But it doesn't matter.
It's fine.
You're obviously brave.
Your idea
of independence is your business.
To wind things up,
could you choose the adjective
that defines you?
Loyal.
Is that okay?
Yes, that's always valuable.
Your goat milk, sirs.
How many combats
did you say you'd won?
None.
None?
Like combats for saving folks?
- That's an example.
- None.
And you want to be a knight?
I've spent an hour telling you
I don't give a damn about that.
I want to be sure
I'm doing business
with any new king they bring in.
What about our talk
about the federation?
I didn't want to interrupt you.
I hear what you want.
Go ahead and play cards together,
but make sure
that I'm the man
pimping you the ho's.
That's not much.
Choose an adjective
to define yourself.
Idealistic.
Bread and cheese board...
Need a refill on the drinks, men?
Absolutely.
- You scared some bandits away?
- Forever.
I'm asking you
about a combat feat.
I just told you.
Communication problem!
The king wants men
- who don't get cold eyes.
- Cold feet.
No cold anywhere.
Eyes, feet -
whatever it is,
you've gotta be able to stand cold.
We camp outside in the winter.
We won't have spare blankets!
If you can't stand the cold,
bring your own!
No army surplus.
I do fear the cold,
but I always wear several layers.
That's what we like to hear!
You mean you are capable
of dressing!
That counts. Not the bandits.
Nobody gives a sh*t about that.
Last thing. What is it again?
" If you use..."
" If you choose..."
If you choose a sedative
to define yourself...
Lime flower.
Perfect.
I overheard somebody answer
"Courageous."
What the hell does that mean?
What a moron!
Deli platter...
Make room for it.
There are kinds of sausage.
All you have to do now
is find an adjective...
The adjective that defines you.
Britain.
" Britain" isn't an adjective.
No?
Regional.
- Regional?
- That's an adjective, isn't it?
It is.
But what do you mean?
You think of yourself
as a regional person,
but what's that?
You love the land, or what?
I don't get it.
Everybody's regional, some.
If it defines me best,
who knows.
Right. That's what I mean.
You really want to say "regional"?
No.
The adjective that defines me best
is " plankton."
Did you find anyone able?
Realistically speaking...
Same here.
I'm so knackered
I can't think straight.
Same here.
I swear, I almost punched
the last one in the nose.
He got on my nerves!
I cut some firewood.
When?
I didn't want to blow up
in front of everybody.
I chopped some logs into kindling,
and felt better.
I'm glad
we got this over with.
Look out, now.
The farmers' delegates demand
to bargain with the new king.
Who is he?
Be very careful, do you hear?
Those farmers are a gnarly bunch.
In a pronounced way.
If the new king isn't cooperative,
he'll be out on his ass.
Take a look at this cheese.
It took years of work!
Where does it get me?
The system is breaking down!
What's this fuss about?
There!
- Look at them.
- They're chewing.
They stole the food!
No, they didn't!
They are my own biscuits
I gallantly shared with my mates.
His aunt baked them.
Quite a find!
- Bastards!
- They are a bit dry.
They are not dry!
They are stale.
They smell like piss, too.
But it was still generous of you
to share.
Screw this.
Don't steal.
No news from the king?
Enjoy those biscuits.
They're all you're getting!
- There's no king?
- Not yet.
Probably yanking on the sword.
Or he can't find his way here.
They really smell like piss.
Not your aunt's fault.
Bastards!
Gimme a damned biscuit.
Sire, action is needed!
Famine looms.
He's new.
That's the point. Shake the shack!
Look at this little turnip!
Up at dawn,
and this is all the thanks we get!
Pile it on,
and someday...
sh*t hits fan!
What do we want?
Respect!
Money, we said.
Be quiet.
R-e-s-p-e-c-t.
Excuse me.
Maybe
I haven't been listening carefully.
It's the stress
due to my condition, but distinctly,
I heard talk about money!
- Don't treat us like Mongols.
- See?
This loaf of bread...
How much do I pay for it?
Damn it!
We're broke. We just got here.
You're up sh*t creek!
Pitchforks in the ass
will welcome you.
Tonight, when I go home,
I'm poisoning all my livestock.
I burn down my hut,
and k*ll my wife!
- Why?
- Do I know?
This cheese!
I aged the son-of-a-bitch
for months!
And it tastes awful!
Why? Because I don't know
how to make cheese!
- We're here!
- Are you managing?
It's a good thing you're here.
We have to go.
These government guys
will listen.
They're real powerful.
They report to us.
- What's going on?
- Who are they?
Shall I get mad again?
We're already necessary.
But let's order dinner first.
Feel better?
No wonder you gagged on this.
It formed a brick.
Your goddam aunt
almost choked me to death.
Why do you gobble your food
so fast? Fear of famine?
Good evening.
Can I help you?
I have an appointment
with Leodegan of Carmelide.
Is that you?
- It depends.
- On what?
Must be this.
What a welcome!
Don't worry about them.
The fact you have the sword means
we chow down
on something better
than his aunt's biscuits!
But congratulations!
Bring on the pies!
Look what I do
to these lousy biscuits!
What was that?
I said nothing.
That's just it.
You have to bid.
I have to bid?
What do I say?
How many points you'll score.
I don't know!
Just make an estimate.
Okay. Six.
- Wow!
- Is that wrong?
But the guy on your right
just skinned the cat twice.
It'll take balls.
I'm the guy on the right.
And I just skinned the cat twice?
Is it possible to skin the cat twice
accidentally?
I do it all the time.
I don't.
I haven't! The others skin the cat
left and right, and right and left.
I've been deprived.
Better quit cheating!
You're the catapult, aren't you?
What am I?
The catapult. Deal and keep score.
No cards.
Play by the rules!
Did you keep score, at least?
Keep score yourselves, you wankers!
What's the third bid?
I think I won.
Hock.
No, I'm wrong.
What do you have?
Skin the hock?
- I don't know.
- A catahock.
A bicat.
Halfcat?
Skin the bat.
Catskin.
Let me see your hand.
Lousy.
sh*t!
I'd introduce your fiancée -
but she's asleep.
He's not missing anything.
Father, please lighten up.
I am your new brother-in-law.
Some people are claiming kinship
very late,
but others are legitimate.
Want a kick in the nuts?
- You're his fiancé's brother?
- His half-sister's husband.
I have one?
I shouldn't boast: she hates you.
Your father k*lled hers.
Ages ago.
Why bring it up?
- You're just a party-pooper.
- Sorry, everyone.
This dried stuff takes so long
to chew. As bad as the biscuits!
I'll stuff a few down your throat.
- Don't start.
- It's useless.
- Let us fight.
- We don't take orders.
Shut up!
Ass-kisser!
That should be my job.
Stay off my turf!
Careful...
We're friendly,
but we won't follow orders.
Yes, you will.
The gods want me to rule Britain,
so you'll have to do what I say.
Sooner or later.
Unless you want to insult the gods.
Deus minimi placet.
The gods alone decide.
We don't know Latin.
Not very well.
Is it you?
Yes, if you're the one who...
Are you the new king of Britain?
And you're Leodegan's daughter.
- We're supposed to marry?
- Exactly.
And your first impression, say...
might you like me?
First impressions
are hard to judge.
I can't say. Nobody likes novelty.
But never mind.
You're...
You're very pretty.
If that answers your question.
I came out here to fart.
The sight of you in the moonlight
is too lovely to ruin.
I'll stink up the place inside,
instead.
Enjoy!
Love is sweetest at its dawn.
Subtitles by Anita Conrade
DVD Subtitling: CNST, Montreal
You seem out of sorts.
I am.
What's wrong?
Are you kidding?
I'm getting married in minutes.
It's a formality.
Formality!
A political marriage, that's all.
Don't let it bother you.
It's like signing a bit of paper,
nothing more.
Only it isn't a bit of paper,
it's a marriage.
To a girl I ran into briefly
three days ago.
- Can't recall her name.
- Guinevere.
- I know, I know.
- You said you didn't.
OK, sh*t!
Can we talk?
What else are we doing?
There's a problem with your ring.
I thought we didn't
need a ring here.
I mean from your marriage in Rome.
What! What happened?
I lost it.
I should have kept it.
They wouldn't even know what
a Roman wedding ring is here!
Well, now I've told you,
we can move on.
You lost my ring.
Excuse me.
- Oh, it's you.
- Sire. Excuse me, Sire.
- I have to get used to it.
- Can I help you?
I can help you.
Oh?
You're probably nervous,
so I figured,
since we got along so well,
I'd lend my support.
Right? What are friends for?
Friends? Sure.
Sure.
- Well, I'll leave you.
- No.
- Yes.
- No.
- You getting married too?
- What?
ISLAND OF BRITAIN
- You're not getting married?
- No. Neither am I.
YEARS BEFORE KAAMELOTT
BOOK VI
Right.
Well, there we are. It's done.
Yes, it's done.
It was really quick.
Yeah, but there's no point taking
two hours over it.
No, but...
It was over the minute
I was in front of the priest.
Well, there we are.
You are Queen.
Oh yes, I hadn't made
the connection.
Connection?
Between what and what?
Between marrying the King
and becoming Queen.
And yet it's...
I know, it's logical,
but it hadn't occurred to me.
Sorry but I was more absorbed
with your face.
My face?
What about my face?
I don't know.
Couldn't you have managed
a little smile?
Anyway, I'm sorry...
I'm not allowed to speak
to the King like that.
No, no...
No, you're right.
You're absolutely right.
I feel so stupid
I can't think of anything to say.
At the same time, I can't go back.
When I was a little girl,
I thought my husband
would take me in his arms
and carry me far, far away,
so that's why...
- You want me to carry you?
- Oh no.
Go on, then, why not?
, , ...
I'm not sure I can carry you
far, far away.
Oh, this is just fine.
We could go over there.
No, this is fine.
It's fine.
Yeah, it's not bad,
no one's ever done it to me before.
Great.
What now,
shall I put you down...?
Oh no!
No.
It was a lovely wedding.
Yes, it was!
It was crap.
Oh, come on.
It was... you know. That's all.
It was pretty lousy.
Possibly even lousier than ours.
Yours was a nice wedding.
Maybe you need a lie-down.
How many weddings
have you been to?
In all?
Two.
Yours and this one.
They're no yardsticks.
There were flowers... I liked it!
It was a nice wedding.
It was crap.
Maybe not crap
but it was pretty lousy.
It was sh*t.
Yeah.
Admit it.
The food's crap too.
Is this a sausage roll?
Possibly.
Looks crap.
Hey... can I have
a 'shroom omelette?
What is this bumpkin knees-up?
Are they broke or what?
What matters is that it's heartfelt.
Doesn't have to be like
a tramps' congress.
Father, marriage is sacred,
subject to the gods' judgment.
Good grief!
What are the gods up to?
Can't they intervene?
Don't blaspheme!
This a royal marriage, remember.
Thanks for reminding me,
it doesn't show!
Don't, you'll get us noticed.
I can imagine your face
if I'd organized a knees-up
like this at your wedding!
We're much more refined
on the continent.
On an island,
they're cut off from everything.
It's true, they're a right
bunch of jerks round here!
Forgive me, Father.
No need, I agree.
- Sit down.
- Take deep breaths.
- Have you eaten?
- You want water?
- My God!
- God?
How beautiful. Beautiful!
- What, the wedding?
- It's always special.
Incidentally, this is my wife-to-be.
And who are you?
My saviour! If not for him,
I'd have starved to death.
And you'd have had to marry
a prick!
You owe him everything.
How beautiful. Beautiful!
Who, my fiancée?
Glad to hear you say it.
Lord Percival
thought she was crap.
- What's her name?
- Mevanwi.
- It's embarrassing.
- No, the bride's name.
Ah, Guinevere?
Guinevere.
Anyway it's embarrassing.
Sorry but you screwed up
the wedding.
Not for the first time.
You're crap.
We should have had a Druid wedding.
A Druid wedding, on a full moon
with dead owls
and guys thumping wood?
What a cliché!
Druid weddings are parties.
Christian ones
are a union of stiffs!
Not all Christian weddings
are bad.
In Christian weddings, one of
the couple isn't already married.
Yeah, shh.
Anyway, don't forget.
You're crap.
Shall I tell
Leodegan his daughter
has married a Roman general?
Just watch it.
- Jerk.
- Idiot.
Yellow. Naff.
- I have to put you down.
- No, no...
No!
I had to.
I'll k*ll him.
I'll k*ll him, I'll k*ll him...
Come now, sweet friend.
There is better game to be slain
than this tripe.
Let us be cunning.
Cunning?
No, not you.
You stick to being boom-boom.
Leave the cunning to us.
I want to k*ll him, not be cunning.
You can see he's a clown.
He knows nothing,
understands nothing.
- He's a puppet!
- The son of a m*rder*r.
He never knew his father.
A bastard and the son of a m*rder*r.
I'll k*ll him.
What I say is,
if you can contain your fervour
and leave things to me,
we'll be on the throne
before you can say putsch!
I like my offbeat tone.
I'm worried my mother might yell.
You can say that again!
Mother.
Ah, how amusing!
- You plan to k*ll your brother?
- Half-brother.
She's insistent about that.
When once I inadvertently
referred to him as "your brother",
your bitch of a daughter
poured hot soup on my genitals.
My balls
were quite literally cooked.
See how I don't mind discussing
my nuts with my mother-in-law?
Crazy family!
If you must k*ll someone,
get rid of that hog
you call a husband.
That hog is King of Orcania.
Take care not to damage relations
between our two countries.
I'm mother to the King,
nincompoop!
One word from me
and you'll be quartered.
You'd better skedaddle, you crooks.
Thanks for dropping by.
We'll give you a doggie bag.
Throw out your own daughter?
If she's planning to k*ll my son,
then yes.
b*at it, peasants!
You'll pay for this.
Well, I'm going with her
because I'm very much in love.
Bye, Mother-in-law.
Mundi placet et spiritus minima.
It doesn't mean anything
but the translation might be:
"The reed bends but breaks
only when there's a hitch."
Which doesn't mean
anything either.
Sire!
Hi, amateurs.
Are you dancing or acting gay?
What's got into you?
Sorry, Sire, I was so nervous
about speaking to you,
I thought I'd play it cool.
How may I help?
We have important news.
- A secret.
- Should I leave?
No, then you'd tell everyone.
But if I leave before I know...
Oh, afterwards, I can't say.
It's about our son.
Your son is Lord Percival?
Yes, Sire.
It's the crop circles.
The...?
Crop circles.
Large decorated circles
that appear in wheat fields.
A Briton like you should know.
Appear spontaneously?
All by themselves.
No one knows why.
Well, I say no one...
It just so happens...
This is secret.
The Druid must leave.
- Should I split?
- Yes.
Well, I...
I'll keep it short,
with well chosen words.
Percival isn't our son.
My husband found him as a baby
one morning in a crop circle.
Couldn't have put it better myself.
OK, fine.
And where do I come in?
We thought you ought to know.
Maybe you could...
encourage and pay close
attention to this young man.
Well, let me tell you: I'm scared!
Scared?
Yes, because...
this is the moment that...
And it scares you?
Well, I don't really know
the details
but I know enough to be scared.
Then let's not do anything.
What?
If you're scared, we won't do it.
There.
- Can we do that?
- Do what?
Do nothing.
We can do whatever we like.
We rule the kingdom, remember.
Don't we have to produce
an heir or something?
Oh, we can do the heir bit
some other time.
So we do nothing?
No.
So do you feel better now?
Well... yes.
Or we could do it,
then the job's done.
Oh no, I can't.
No, not now you've said
you don't want to.
Well, I might be able to want to.
You can't want to do something
you don't know about.
I might want to know what it is.
Saying you were scared
has put me right off.
Now I have to think about it,
take a break...
and ask myself whether
I'm ready to do it
with someone who's scared.
Yes, yes, I'm sorry.
No harm done.
Right.
Shall we go to sleep, then?
As you please.
Or we could talk.
As you please.
We could talk.
For example... I know!
Before marrying you,
I had to revise the genealogy
of my father's family,
so I'd know it.
So...
there's my father, obviously...
Obviously.
Well, let's go to sleep.
I haven't finished.
Sorry, I heard your father...
Well, it's OK,
you can finish tomorrow.
Really?
Yes, because...
I'm worried your parents
might hear us talking
and since we're meant to be doing
something else...
See?
So aren't they meant to hear us
doing something else?
Yes, but the something else
we could be doing silently.
- Oh?
- Oh yes.
So we do it silently.
No. We don't do it,
like we decided.
But... we could be doing it
silently,
so we have to...
Good night anyway.
Well, yes, good night.
No fuss.
Nice place, Lord Dagonet.
But chilly.
Because we're high up.
It gets the North Wind.
It might not be my land.
Not your land?
My dad was always going on
about the Dagoney estate.
I never knew
which bit was home.
So we can't build a fortress here?
Sure you can. If I don't know
whether it's my land...
We're not building
a fortress here.
What? But you said...
I know.
Because we were passing
this high zone. But it's freezing!
I couldn't bear it.
If you like hunting,
it's teeming with game.
You have plenty of stuffed animals
at home. Bravo!
My stupid father's. I wouldn't touch
a dead doe with a bargepole.
Ah, so that's why we're talking
on the hunt.
Because you don't know
what you're doing!
I know I should be quiet.
But I hate hunting,
so if I can't even talk...
Look what we caught!
No, I caught him on my own!
But I guarded him!
Only while I had a piss.
And he nearly escaped!
A Roman.
Something for us to stuff.
What's he doing?
Romans never come round here.
Plus he's alone. Weird, eh?
Maybe he's just stupid.
- Where are you from, moron?
- I told you, my lips are sealed.
Unless you t*rture me...
Let me tackle him alone.
Why? What'll you do?
Don't spoil him.
I promised to bring something back
for my dogs.
I'll grill him slowly,
see what he's made of.
Psychology.
Wait for me further along.
I see. You're the King
and we must obey.
We're used to freewheeling.
Might take us a while
to discipline ourselves.
What are you doing here?
Sorry, I'm screwing up
your spying mission.
What got into you?
It was an emergency.
Couldn't it wait?
No, there's a senator coming
to the camp.
- What?
- An unexpected visit.
The message said his ship
would be here soon.
If you're not there
to welcome him...
So you left the camp
expecting to just run into me?
Which is exactly what I did!
No, you got caught.
What do I tell them now?
What excuse do I give
for not k*lling you?
I don't know.
When you're spying,
you have to improvise, right?
Look...
Go back to camp
and I'll see what I can do.
- How long will you be?
- As long as it takes.
You'll have to get changed,
you can't meet a senator
dressed like that.
I'll put my uniform on later.
Now b*at it!
So where is he?
I decided to let him go.
I sent his chief a message.
I don't believe it!
What will I give my dogs?
What message?
That the new king
is taking things in hand.
I bet your father
wouldn't have let a Roman go.
- Certainly not!
- But I'm like you, not my father.
With a pair, I'd have k*lled one
to impress the other.
I impressed him
with my new technique.
Fighting half with your bare hands,
half with calcium.
That stopped him being cute!
Only they told us...
So you knew?
A senator's visit.
As the message was late...
OK.
You know a senator's coming,
and you leave.
There's no one there,
not even a centurion.
Is there a senator or not?
Yes, in the tent of the General.
Who's gone too.
Why isn't Arturus at his post?
He'll be back soon enough.
He sends his apologies.
What are you up to?
With one diplomatic visit every
ten years, you might make an effort!
We were caught short.
I'm not asking for a band
and girls, but still...
A band in Britain? You may
as well rub nettles on your nuts!
There isn't even a chair for him!
Oh, I think I can find a chair.
Right, see to Senator Sallustius.
He has to eat.
- Eat?
- Eat, yes. What, no chow either?
I'll see what I can do
but frankly, it won't be easy.
Apart from that are you...?
OK.
You think it's Sallustius?
I've no idea.
Who else could it be?
I've no idea.
You're going to meet him
dressed like that?
I have no idea!
Will you tell them you're deserting?
Look, stop it.
You can see I haven't got a plan.
You need one.
I'm thinking
but you keep interrupting!
Plans have to be figured out.
It isn't complicated.
Avoid being k*lled
by your father-in-law or a senator.
So are you deserting?
Sure I am.
But do I desert today or not?
You can't just desert.
How will you desert?
With a plan.
Notice I've stopped
asking questions.
Right, go back to the others
and try to assemble
as many Britons as possible.
As many as possible.
Any you can find.
You've only got a few hours.
Don't expect miracles.
Do what you can.
Put them on the beach
we landed on.
I'll get there as soon as I can.
What will you do with them?
Impress a senator.
Arturus!
What's this get-out you're wearing?
This?
I'm on an undercover mission.
Undercover?
Why don't you use your spies?
I don't like to delegate.
Well, you'd better start,
hadn't you?
- Good journey?
- Excellent, yes.
Actually no.
I was puking up all the way over.
I'm sorry.
Now, this sword.
Have you got the sword or not?
I've got it.
Well, it's...
It's very impressive.
The clan chiefs, the alliance...
is it going well?
It's underway. We're meeting on
the beach later to sign the treaty.
Good. Very good!
You didn't mess about!
Right.
I'll go ahead. Will you come later?
- Where?
- To the beach.
My aide-de-camp Spurius Cordius
Frontinius will bring you.
All you have to do is sign
and Britain is in the bag.
OK.
Are you going dressed like that?
Yeah, it's to flatter them a bit.
Dressing like a Briton will make
them better disposed to sign.
I see.
Very cunning.
You're very cunning, Arturus.
In three hours, then?
Three hours. We'll be there.
For now, tell them
to stand to one side.
- And the others?
- What others?
The ones...
No. We don't need any jugglers.
As it happens we have jugglers,
trapeze artists and a guy
who sings with his butt.
Great. But even so,
tell them thanks but no thanks.
What exactly do we need?
I'm glad you're here.
All this?
What?
All these people already?
They turned up at a time,
I couldn't help it.
But that's great!
- It is?
- Sure!
I'm sure you're right.
And behave yourself.
I don't want you to look like
a waster.
And Kadoc's crusts?
No... I promised you
a few crusts of bread
afterwards if all went well
and you'd been good.
- Are they in your pocket?
- No.
You hid them?
I'm not saying.
Now get into position.
And if you kick anyone
- like you did last time -
I'll take you straight home.
- Where are the crusts?
- Go!
Don't start, Dad!
Let him speak.
The others sent him.
To make him look stupid!
What's going on?
Pellinor wishes to speak.
- What?
- Don't fall for it!
Shut up!
Go ahead.
A few of us are feeling
a little uneasy
and we'd like your opinion.
Sire. Call him Sire!
We'd like your opinion, Sire.
My opinion about...?
You've appealed to
everyone's goodwill.
Most of those who were asked
to come have turned up.
Only there's a rumour going about
that says you intend
to pitch us into battle
against the Roman army
and so...
your expectations
might be dashed.
I don't have any
particular expectations.
I'm trying something out.
For your part,
you have to trust me.
I don't think
there's a lack of trust.
It's more that...
we want to be sure you're aware of
the prevailing intellectual level.
Especially in the face of
Roman legions
who have had
a solid upbringing...
Wait, wait, wait...
Prevailing intellectual level?
Indeed.
Take me for example.
I'll spare you the details
but I can count up to .
Any more I'm back to , , , etc.
And there are words
in a child's lexicon
that still give me
a fit of the giggles.
Words such as "willy" ...
or "wee-wee".
As you see, it's quite a handicap.
And I only learnt
how to swallow properly
when I was .
Prior to that, half the time
I'd inhale my food,
flirting with death in the process.
Hang on, though.
With regard to today
and the present situation,
the fact that you're...
a little "short" worries you.
These are Romans
we're dealing with.
Greetings, everybody.
A question: are there any Britons
who aren't on this beach?
I'll give a quick rundown
to clear up any confusion.
My name is Arthur.
I am the bastard son of Uther
Pendragon and Ygerne de Tintagel
and am proclaimed
King of the Britons by Excalibur.
The Britons! That's you!
So, as a result,
I am your King.
Thank you,
but that's not the point.
So...
I'm led to believe
that certain among you
are daunted at the prospect
of facing the Roman army.
But we shall not be meeting
the Roman army.
I am going to meet
a high-ranking Roman
and you, during this meeting,
will express your support.
Another thing:
For the purposes of this interview,
I will need
to perform a little test.
Now this exercise will require
your full concentration.
When you hear the word "soldier" ...
raise your hand.
So when I say "soldier" ,
you raise your hand.
Now concentrate, let's practise.
Cheese!
No! See?
No, that's not it.
You raise your hand
at the word "soldier" .
sh*t, I got it wrong.
I didn't understand the wording.
It's tough.
I almost got it wrong too.
Second attempt.
Concentrate.
Don't faint, though.
Henhouse!
Yes... yes, not bad.
Definite progress in this zone.
Less so here.
I flunked again.
There's no time to figure it out.
He should go easy
or they'll be discouraged.
As if soldiers can't
look after henhouses too.
Where's the chick?
But there are lots of
possible answers.
If you can't answer "yes" , " no" ,
or "don't know" ,
it makes it even harder.
The word is still "soldier" .
Pay attention.
Third attempt, now concentrate.
Make a big effort.
Soldier!
That's it!
Brilliant. All right!
You think Romans could master this
after attempts?
Certainly not.
I'll tell you what,
if you can repeat that later,
the Romans will be so impressed
by our abilities
that they'll abandon Hadrian's Wall
within two days!
Since this is rather joyous news,
it would be good to let out
a big cheer
while I get my sword out.
We'll try it again.
...blah blah blah within two days!
What's all that?
Britons.
Britons.
We're in Britain,
naturally there are Britons.
So is this...
the alliance?
No, no, it's...
What?
They're... you know... the plebs.
The British people.
It's not complicated.
I was a bit worried.
So I thought,
why not ask
Lucius Sillius Sallustius directly
if he has any good advice
to give me?
Well, if I can help in any way...
Most importantly the alliance
is on the right track.
Well, I'm delighted, Arturus.
The British chiefs agree to unite
as a single British nation
under your servant
with centralized power,
a single currency, etc,
but they don't want any Romans.
- Sorry?
- Sorry?
They want rid of the Romans.
So what do we do?
Wait, wait...
But don't they mind
your being Roman?
I'm not Roman, I'm a Briton.
No, really. I was born
in Britain, I'm a Briton.
Anyway, they accept me.
Because I've got the sword.
It's actually a bit of a pain.
They see the sword
and they're off.
What do we do?
Right. Here's what I suggest.
For my part, I federate,
I run the country,
do everything we said.
While you...
b*at it.
b*at it good and proper.
Knock down Hadrian's Wall
and the two west-coast camps.
Gather up your sh*t
and hit the road.
Yeah. I see.
Hang on...
I wasn't expecting this,
I can tell you!
But... what if I refuse?
What's to refuse?
In years
you've never penned them in.
Now they're an alliance
it won't get any easier.
Let's see.
Stay there.
Say, I have a question for you.
Who among you would favour
a truce between Roman
and British forces?
OK.
And who thinks the offensive
should continue
until Rome capitulates
and pulls out every last soldier?
All right.
There you have it.
You can clear off.
However, we're not animals.
You can keep one camp.
Just one.
I'm a hero because
I've thrown you out
and you're a hero
in Rome because
the country is an alliance
and run by a Roman
that you put in power.
What do you say?
Not bad.
Not bad.
But Britain...
No, you just lost Britain.
But if you want to tell the Senate
that you won...
that's fine by me.
OK.
Now what was I going to say?
You don't intend to return
to Rome, do you?
Yes, why?
I get the double-game principle
but can't help feeling
we've been had.
If you ever return to Rome
- nothing personal -
you'll be eliminated.
I need to go back once,
to fetch my wife.
Better lie low, then.
One moment... I'll be right back.
Excuse me.
Excuse me.
Just one question.
Excuse me.
Right. You don't want a Roman.
Fine. But are you sure
you have chosen the right king?
A magic sword isn't everything.
- Shall I stop him?
- Just try.
You think he's a hero.
I know him. He's a conscript.
A squaddie,
used to being on guard duty
in a nd-zone militia.
- What do we do?
- Stay put.
Let's be honest, who wants
as King of the Britons
a twerp like him who,
until two weeks ago,
was just a simple soldier?
It's my honour to announce that,
thanks to your courage
and determination,
you are free from the Roman yoke.
Meaning what?
- What?
- We didn't catch that.
You are free from
the Roman yoke.
The what?
The Roman yoke.
Yoke like... like a yolk?
No, a yoke like a... yoke yoke.
A yoke yoke?
From oppression.
Free from Roman oppression, OK?
So we're free from Roman oppression.
That's great, thank you.
But this yoke business...
The Roman yoke,
you bunch of assholes!
Yoke, yoke, f*cking yoke!
Calm down, Sire.
It isn't worth it.
You look stupid,
waving your arms around.
Soldier!
No. You lost.
No, but...
Yes, there's a latency period,
I know.
Good!
Kids everywhere.
Chamber full of them.
Maybe or of them.
Four- and five-year-olds.
All together.
"Ave, your Peacefulness!"
Stupidly, I go, "Ave, children.
" Did you enjoy visiting the palace?
What nice things did you see?"
Anyway...
I spout my usual rubbish,
then suddenly...
I see one at the front,
a little guy with tousled hair
with a parcel in his hand.
He looks like he's sulking.
"What's your name?"
No reply.
"That's a pretty parcel."
Not a peep.
"Won't you tell me what it is?"
"A gift for the General."
Believe it or not,
even though I told him
I was the General,
there was nothing doing.
So I took him to one side.
Took me all day long.
I showed him my uniform,
took him to the maps room,
showed him models of boats.
When it was getting dark,
I said,
"Maybe that's enough now, isn't it?"
"Surely you see
that I'm the General.
"Give me the parcel
and we'll forget about it."
So he said, "OK."
It was full of
little white meringues.
Round, like this.
Awfully good.
We ate them together on the terrace
without saying a word.
There.
If I could live one day over again,
that would be the one.
You realise, Emperor...
that I'm asking you this
for a reason.
There is a way for you
to relive that day.
Oh, I know.
I know my classics.
Well?
I'm not against it in principle.
I'm pretty scared, though.
Let's try again.
Is Arturus in Rome?
I'll say it again: I don't know.
Look, there's something
you need to understand, guys.
Personally, I am, in essence,
a grass.
That's the basic premise.
What you have here is a grass,
not someone you need to b*at
because he will voluntarily
offer the information
without your asking.
Why do I say that?
Because you've been kicking the sh*t
out of me for an hour and a half.
So if I tell you I don't know,
it's safe to say...
I don't know.
We'll b*at you up anyway.
Is Manilius in town too?
Well, this is going to take
a long time,
because I still don't know.
Give him another slap.
- Now?
- Not tomorrow!
There, that was to request
your attention.
Well, it was a damn stupid request.
If you'd just said, " Now listen up,"
I would have done.
Same result.
They say Arturus is in Rome
to fetch his wife.
His wife... You mean Julia.
His wife.
But she's kind of mine too.
What was that for?
I was wondering too.
I was improvising.
It felt right, so...
Where does Julia live?
With the girlfriend of Manilius.
Same thing here:
where you found Manilius
the first time.
It was you who grassed on her.
Indeed. Thank you.
Precisely, it was me.
I have the decency
to acknowledge it.
As I told you,
I am a whore of a grass.
So, now I'm sure you're willing,
my dear friends,
to show me the way out
of this establishment.
Thank you in advance.
Wait for Arturus at his wife's.
- And then?
- Guess.
There are several options.
The worst one... the worst.
Whatever the worst is, pal,
after being here,
it sounds scary.
When he said,
"several options," I let out
a whole series of little farts.
We shouldn't have come.
I'm here for my wife.
After what we did,
we should lie low.
I'm here for my wife.
They know the places we go,
the people we see...
Ave!
I've come to get my wife.
I'm here for mine
but we shouldn't have come.
We've come all this way.
Now we're here,
we'll finish what we started.
We need to get away, ASAP.
The ship's ready,
we'll just pick them up and go.
No luggage.
- Meet you on the quay at sunset.
- OK.
We shouldn't have come.
You're all packed?
Who is it, Aconia?
You!
What are you doing here?
Sorry?
I get no leave for years
but you're back after a week.
Gift from the Emperor?
Problem with the Britons?
You need me?
I was saying to...
You're all packed?
Yes.
After years away,
you're off again after a week.
Back to my home in Macedonia.
I'm done with Rome.
I managed to avoid
any official engagements.
I haven't seen a single senator
and I don't want to.
Maybe they wanted
to give you land.
To hell with land.
I don't want any.
We're going home.
Excuse me, this is my wife.
Aconia.
- Ave.
- Ave.
Forgive me.
I was a little terse
with you earlier.
No, it's fine.
I'm so wound up,
every time I see a uniform....
I understand.
It's nice of you to call.
You must have lots of people
to see in Rome.
Such as your wife.
Mine barely recognised me!
In Britain,
the years must go by slowly.
I feel old beside her!
Really.
You're not saying anything.
I did recognise you.
Sorry?
You said I barely recognised you.
But I've changed, haven't I?
- Changed...
- Go ahead, say it.
You, though, are just the same.
What about your wife?
My wife is just the same.
I haven't been gone long.
Yes, it's true. Sorry.
I forgot to wish you good luck
the other day in Britain.
Good luck for what?
For Britain. The garrison.
Ah.
Good luck to you as well in...
Macedonia.
It's different for us.
We're only going to Macedonia
to die.
While you're in Rome, try to spend
some time with your wife.
Who knows
when you'll see her again?
You know what?
This house...
I'm not going to sell it.
Or give it away.
I'll just leave it.
If anyone turns up and needs it,
the doors are open.
You know, rather like...
Like those wooden houses
people make for birds.
Farewell, Arturus.
Licinia?
There's nothing there.
Are you Arturus's girl?
Are you or aren't you?
Then we'll wait for him quietly.
Hey, are you there?
It's me.
- Come in.
- Come in.
Subtitles by Kevin Smith
DVD Subtitling: CNST, Montreal
Say, do you mind if we stop here?
I'm done in. My eyes are closing.
- It's fine by me, but...
- But what?
They said we should finish
quickly...
In case I die?
I don't understand.
What's left?
I've already told you everything.
Wait... Rome, my first marriage,
my appointment to Britain...
You were there for most of it.
Then there's
the foundation of Kaamelott...
From then on you kept
continuous notes.
- There you are!
- No...
What I need now are two things.
Firstly, the first time you drew
the sword as a kid and...
Haven't I've told you that already?
Never mind.
The second thing is
the journey you made
in search of your descendants,
Up to...
Up to...?
Up to your su1c1de attempt.
- It had to come up at some point.
- Why?
- Why?
- Yes, why?
Is it something to pass on
to future generations?
Couldn't we just...
not mention it?
Not mention it... Of course....
But it was Lancelot,
your worst enemy,
who saved you
although he had come to k*ll you.
To be frank,
given the amount of bullshit
I've endured at Kaamelott,
your su1c1de is hard to ignore.
So, what do you want to know?
Well...
what it was that drove you to...
What drove me to...
What drove me...
I was feeling down.
I suspected that.
Can you elaborate a bit?
My eyes are closing.
I'd like to take a break.
I'm not forcing you.
It's just that the Druids said
you were dying of anaemia
and might go at any moment.
Sire?
I'm sleeping,
I'm not dying.
Good, but Sire...
Stop calling me Sire.
Give me mins.
I promise I won't die.
I don't like you like this.
- Like what?
- Without a beard.
It's not nice for a King.
But I'm a Roman king.
Roman kings don't have beards.
How about Hadrian?
Hadrian built a wall.
He can do anything!
A wall across the country.
I've done nothing.
I can't be unconventional.
If you haven't built a wall,
what did you do?
- For Rome?
- Yes, for Rome.
I gave it up.
Like me?
Like you.
I'm cold.
Really?
I'm too cold.
Light a fire or I'm going.
Is it warmer in Macedonia?
It's warmer everywhere.
Are you any warmer with me?
Did you find the Grail?
The Grail?
Yes, the Grail. Did you find it?
And your ring?
Did you find your ring?
No.
No?
Now it's too late.
I'll never find it.
All right? You're surfacing?
Have I slept long?
You could say that.
Your mother declared you
officially dead.
What?
It went on and on. Eventually
we got fed up.
Put yourself in her place.
What do you mean by
"declared officially dead" .
She sent messages
telling everyone to come!
To your funeral!
All right!
So what do I do? Top myself?
But properly, to fit the message?
We're taking care of it.
We're not senile yet.
When they arrive, we say.
Say what, exactly?
- Come back later?
- No! Some have come a long way.
We suggest they pay their respects
in your lifetime.
They're happy.
Compared to a funeral it's...
- More lively?
- That's right!
Yes. So now you're awake...
Although for how long...
We'll bring them in.
But watch out!
There are some idiots.
Some real idiots!
I've never seen so many at one go.
Apart from at Kaamelott.
What do I tell them?
They do the talking. You say hello.
You're meant to be dead.
They're not here to listen to you.
- Shall I bring them in?
- Yes.
Things are missing.
- Not much.
- Not much but they're missing.
The time you k*lled my father,
for example.
Where's that?
I didn't k*ll him.
My father k*lled your father.
It was a Pendragon.
You do everything like him.
That's unlikely. I never knew him.
The time you drew out the sword.
Where's that?
- The first time, you mean?
- Yes.
I don't remember it.
I was too little.
You remember things at .
I don't remember it.
Other things, yes,
but not the sword.
Would you like to sleep
with your half-sister?
What?
To sleep with me.
Would you like that?
That's not allowed.
That's not what I asked.
I asked if you'd like it.
I don't think so.
You'll come round to it.
Trust me.
You'll come round to it.
You had a bad dream, Sire.
You were talking.
Talking? What did I say?
You said, " I don't remember..."
Finished?
There are others waiting.
- I haven't even started!
- You're having me on!
He was asleep.
I couldn't pay my respects.
It's the same as paying them
to someone who's dead.
Do you really think it's worth it?
Is what worth it?
I'm not dead yet.
Is it worth me listening to
everyone's respects?
The point of being dead
is you avoid all this.
You're doing it in your lifetime.
There's no way these oafs
are camping here until the time
of your lamented demise.
Get rid of them as fast as possible!
Starting with him!
- Shall I get going?
- Where?
With my respects?
Listen, Bors, can't we skip it?
Aren't you going to die?
Yes, I'll die one day.
You have to eat
something nourishing.
Your aunt says you eat nothing.
How will you recover,
with all the blood you lost?
I can't eat. It won't go down.
The Tintagel Druids say
it's too much for your constitution.
The Druids of Tintagel
are as useless as ours.
Anyone can see
that unless you start eating...
Listen, in there...
Since you're so slow,
we'll let people in by .
I brought some herbs
to patch you up.
And if you really insist
on dawdling,
we'll put you on the balcony.
You can address everyone
in one go. OK?
I haven't paid my respects yet.
There's no need!
I'm patching him up!
You've tried to " patch me up"
times.
- It never works.
- You don't want to.
- What?
- Get better and restore your blood.
It's a year since you slit
your wrists.
You're still as white as a sheet!
- Don't get worked up!
- It annoys me!
If you'd kick yourself
up the backside! But no!
Now he's asleep!
I can't carry on long conversations.
My eyes start closing.
Sire.
You be quiet!
At last! Sit up properly.
I've brought you bread
and some doe terrine.
Thanks for coming, Caradoc, but...
It's not any old pâté
knocked up with scrag ends of meat.
When I say doe terrine
I mean it's marked "Caradoc" .
A terrine like this
will serve as reference
for all the terrines you ever eat!
Because you're not dead!
But you thought I was.
Do you always pay your respects
with a terrine?
I didn't think about it.
I said, "You don't visit Arthur
empty-handed" .
As for dead or alive,
I didn't think.
It's very kind of you,
but I'm not eating.
- Not eating?
- No.
- Meaning?
- Meaning I'm not eating.
- Not eating often?
- No, I'm not eating.
- Not eating much?
- No, I'm not eating.
" I'm not eating..."
You know what "eating" means?
- Yes.
- It's the reverse.
I don't get it.
Some buttered bread?
- No thanks.
- Here we go!
There's something
that's been bothering me.
I'd like to give you back
the throne.
Being King's a pain.
No one listens to me or attends
Round Table meetings.
My wife keeps asking for stuff.
Honestly, it was fun to begin with,
but now I'm really sick of it.
- Do you mind if I give it back?
- My word...
Is it possible?
- To give me back the power?
- Yes.
You can do what you like with it...
I don't have Excalibur.
I'm not legitimate without it.
- Neither do I.
- You're Regent. It's different.
- I'm fed up. What do we do?
- Hand back the power...
You don't have to run the kingdom
if you don't want to.
That's good. I feel relieved.
- Do I sign something?
- You can write now?
- No, not yet.
- There you are, then.
It'll be an oral transfer of power.
- Was that all you wanted?
- Yes. Why?
I'm going to sleep. I've had it.
Go on, old chap.
Go back to your clan and have fun.
- Thank you, Sire.
- Don't call me Sire.
- But you are!
- Oh, yes. Sorry.
I ran away from home.
What?
When I heard you were dead,
I cried so much...
I begged my father to let me come
but he wouldn't let me.
- You ran away?
- Yes. It took ages!
I hired guides, then took a coach,
but it was the wrong one,
so I took another.
It's such a long way to Tintagel!
It's Carmelide that's far away.
I know. If you think I enjoy
being stuck up there...
Were you waiting long?
I should be with the others
but I had a row with your mother.
I started insulting people.
I'm sorry.
I think I called your aunt
a big d*ke!
I didn't mean to...
But when I heard you were alive,
I so wanted to see you that
I told them where to go!
So I've been waiting here.
Did you read all that?
Your memoires?
No,
I was afraid of finding things...
That concerned you?
No, that don't concern me.
Are there any?
Things that don't concern you?
Deep down
everything concerns you.
But there are things you never knew.
Big things?
My first marriage, for instance.
I see...
That's pretty big.
It's all in there.
More or less.
Read it when I'm dead.
There's nothing...
But it's good to know.
It'll probably shed some light
on a few things.
Why didn't you tell me?
I don't know.
I didn't want to hurt you.
Is there any way you won't die?
Not according to the Druids.
I can't replenish
the blood I'm missing.
I saw the blood you're missing.
- Meaning?
- I saw the blood you're missing.
I sleep with my mother now,
every night.
Every time I close my eyes,
I see the blood.
On the ground.
And the cuts on your wrists
and your empty eyes.
You never told me
you'd been married,
but you let me see that.
Let you see it...
I didn't let you see a thing!
I topped myself!
Yes, you did!
There are other ways
to k*ll yourself.
Throw yourself off a cliff!
That doesn't bother anyone!
But that's not what you did.
You opened your veins in a bath
I filled for you myself!
Maybe...
Maybe what?
Maybe...
I wanted to stop you sleeping.
You and all the others.
Maybe I wanted to stop everyone
closing their eyes.
Maybe I wanted to blame it on you.
That's not very nice.
No.
No, it's not very nice.
It's not nice.
I won't do it again.
Am I dreaming?
No, you're not dreaming.
Your mother and I discussed it.
We decided to let him in.
Shameful! Confronting the King
with his tormenter!
He saved his life!
- He came to rob him of it!
- But he saved him.
He's come to k*ll him!
I can see it in his eyes!
If Arthur doesn't want
to talk to him,
I'll have the guards throw him out.
Has he been searched?
You foolish people!
Of course!
- At least... I don't know.
- You don't know?
How can I k*ll him?
He's meant to be dead already.
Call if there's a problem.
We're right here.
Who's right here?
You! You're full of energy!
You can keep watch by the door!
Pass me a wax tablet, please,
with a stylus.
A new one, please.
Thank you.
It seems I'm not to tire you out.
It seems...
It seems a lot of things.
The Druids say I'll croak in days
and I'm not to tire myself.
I thought our Druid was dumb
but now I wonder if it isn't
inherent in the job.
I'm listening.
- Listening?
- You came to pay your respects?
Everyone said you were dead.
That those who knew you were invited
to pay their respects.
Go on, then.
But... you're not terribly dead.
Do what you have to do, Lancelot.
Don't worry about
whether I'm dead or not.
I'm fed up with always
being against you.
You know what? I'm not going
to alter your plans one bit.
- All right?
- So...
Pay your respects.
I'd envisaged something
more internal.
Internal?
In my head.
A kind of contemplation.
Go on then.
- You mean... contemplate?
- Yes.
Finished?
There isn't really an end.
This tablet
grants you full power.
Pardon?
Kaamelott, the Kingdom of Logres,
the Round Table, the Grail quest...
- You're in charge now.
- I don't understand.
There's nothing to understand.
You want to try?
Then try.
It's your reward for saving my life.
Full power.
- Just like that?
- Just like that.
But hurry. I could die
at any moment and drop it.
Remember when you believed
in the same things as me?
Because I do.
You know what we're going to do?
We'll forget
what happened afterwards.
- And you'll do that.
- Do what?
What we'd planned.
Are you a great leader, like me?
A great leader?
Lancelot, are you or not?
I think so.
Never forget,
great leaders
have one thing in common.
They only fight
for the dignity of the weak.
Go on, get out.
- I don't know what to say.
- There's nothing to be said.
Only to be done. Do it well.
I keep falling asleep at the moment.
I can't help it.
I have dreams.
I'll tell you one.
I'm in space with an old man.
I'm not telling you this by chance.
When I woke up, I thought of you.
Space...
It's always been your thing.
And old men.
There's always one in your stories.
Anyway, I'm floating in space,
with the stars and everything,
and there's an old man.
I don't know
if it's me as an old man,
because dreams
are always weird like that.
The old man says,
"Are you ready to see the Grail?"
I say "Yes" .
We head towards
a big ball,
but it's actually our own Earth.
Except instead of being flat
it's a ball.
As I said, dreams are always weird.
We go down and down...
and land on a path in a forest
on Lord Dagonet's land.
Don't ask me how...
He's not even in the dream...
but I know we're on Dagonet's land.
The old man turns round and says,
" I hope you don't mind walking.
" It's a fair way from here!"
I say, " I don't get it.
Why didn't we land closer?"
He doesn't answer.
He sets off ahead.
I follow him,
I follow him...
After a while I say,"sh*t" !
"This is the way to Kaamelott!"
I say to the old man,
"Isn't this the way to Kaamelott?"
"Yes. Why?"
"What do you mean?" I say.
"The Grail isn't in Kaamelott!"
"Yes it is" , he says.
So I stop.
"Are you having me on?"
He turns and says, " Do you want
to see the Grail or not?
"Shut up and follow me!"
And he sets off again.
So...
We arrive at Kaamelott.
The place is empty.
Not a guard at the gate
or a servant in the halls.
We go past the Round Table room.
No Round Table! Empty!
We go on and on
and reach the door to my bathroom.
"There you are.
"Open it, it's in there."
I say, " In where? The bathroom?"
"Yes, in the bathroom."
I look at him to see if he's drunk,
then he goes in.
Inside there's the empty bath.
It's full of water
but there's no one in it,
and blood everywhere.
All over the place.
He says, "There!"
"That's the Grail."
"What? The bathroom?"
" No, not the bathroom, the bath!"
"The bath is the Grail?"
"Yes."
" It's the vessel that held
Christ's blood."
Then, in the dream,
I slap the old man.
A good slap. His head
goes this way, his hair that...
"You're taking the piss?" I say.
Then he turns round and wallops me.
It's like
the ceiling's fallen in on me!
I pull myself together
and he says,
"What is someone who suffers
"and spills his blood on the ground
so that everyone is guilty?
"All suicides are Christ!
"All bathtubs are the Grail!
"You wondered
if there was an inscription
"at the bottom of the Grail.
"Well there is.
"Go and look" , he says.
So, I go,
and at the bottom of the tub
it says,
"You really bust my balls!"
And bam, I wake up.
That's such a cool dream.
I dreamed Caradoc had claws.
- Meaning?
- Like a crab.
- What did he do with them?
- He pinched my meniscus.
Meniscus?
Are my dreams crap
compared to yours?
Dreams
can't be compared.
Congratulations.
I thought you'd forgotten me.
Forgotten you?
How little you know me.
Leave me alone.
I'm your worst student.
You know that. I saved Arthur
using white magic. What do you say?
- I say you're very cunning.
- Cunning?
You save him. You're given power
instead of taking it by force.
You even have a tablet
that legitimizes you in the eyes
of his followers.
- It's very cunning.
- How did you know?
Just one question.
Will you rule with
his former collaborators?
I don't know.
- I need to think.
- The omens are clear, my friend.
You've a unique chance
to find the Grail
and bring light to Earth
as long as you get rid
of everything.
- Get rid?
- Everything!
The fort, the political alliances
the Round Table
and particularly the knights.
What do you mean?
Get rid of all the knights?
A clean sweep...
Hey, Sire!
- Am I dreaming?
- No. You have to leave!
- Leave? Why?
- Lancelot's men will soon be here.
Lancelot's men? He has men?
It seems you gave him power.
- Is it true or false?
- It's true.
OK. I'll be brief.
The knights are being hunted
throughout the kingdom.
There are roadblocks,
they're searching houses.
You must go.
Go? You're kidding!
I can't even stand!
If you don't you'll die.
They could arrive any time.
They won't enter Tintagel by force?
Think your mother's guards
will stop them?
- Get up! The knights are fleeing!
- Where to?
Wherever they can.
Lancelot's crazy!
Has he that many men?
They're everywhere, wearing white.
He's sent them to k*ll the knights.
- Where will I go?
- Somewhere he won't look for you.
He knows all my hiding places.
I've a boat by the shore.
Once on the continent, we'll think.
He knows my hiding places there too!
With Bors, the Duke of Acquitaine...
If you stay here, they'll k*ll you.
They're nuts.
You have to find somewhere
he won't come looking for you.
- Rome.
- What?
Rome! He won't think of that.
Perfect! If we get to the boat,
we'll go to Rome.
But Rome...
- I don't know anyone there.
- You'll be safe.
I'll probably die on the way.
You'll die trying to do something.
Hang on.
Wait!
- I need a bandage.
- A what?
- A bandage.
- Why?
- To hide my wounds.
- Wounds?
From your su1c1de?
No one cares about that! Move!
I'm not going without a bandage.
I don't want children seeing.
I'm King Arthur!
I don't lose hope
and I never lose courage.
I'm an example to children.
OK, I'll give you a bandage.
SOON
ARTHUR
WILL ONCE AGAIN
BE A HERO
Kaamelott is dedicated to Louis De Funès