[soothing music]
[dramatic music]
[hooves thundering]
[pleasant music]
- Feeling better, my lord?
- Much.
- If I suggested you weren't
as young as you used to be,
and should leave the scaling
of castle walls to others,
would I be disrespectful?
- You would.
- I won't suggest it.
- Don't.
Lancelot, have you ever been to Ireland?
- No my lord, I haven't.
- Well, one of the Irish
kings is holding a tournament
to which I've been invited,
and I want you to go as my representative.
- Oh good, what's the king's name?
- Anguish, King Anguish.
They say he's blessed with
the most beautiful daughter,
and I need hardly remind you
that your business will
be fighting, not wooing.
- No my lord, you needn't.
[hand smacks]
[Arthur groans]
[pleasant music]
[hooves clopping]
- Halt!
[tense music]
Dismount!
Not a move!
- I was only reaching for my purse.
That's what you want, isn't it?
- Do I look, then, like a robber?
- Yes, you do.
- No, no, no, of course not.
We are stranger in Ireland.
What my squire really
means is that in Britain,
where we come from,
robbers sometimes stop
you on the road like this.
- Do they now?
And do they ever give you a
choice, your purse, or a rhyme?
- Not frequently, no.
- Then I will.
I must have a word to rhyme with agony.
I've racked me brains.
Agony, bagony, chagony,
dagony, fagony, gagony.
But I can't think of a thing.
- [Brian] What's it for?
- A poem.
A most important poem,
to Kathleen, from exile.
- Perhaps if we knew how it went.
- Delighted.
Lady if the moon is full,
it drank of thy fair eyes.
And if it waxes pale and white,
that comes as no surprise.
The moon has seen you, yet
must stay 10,000 miles away.
How well I know its agony?
- For you are far away from me.
- Of course, how simple.
Young squire, the Prince of Limerick
is everlastingly in your debt.
Come, into me castle.
- Thank you.
- Britons, you say?
You sure there's not
a bit of Irish in you?
- Certainly not.
- My squire means that the more we travel,
the more we find people
are pretty much alike.
But I see you're more a
prince of good fellows
than a Prince of Limerick.
- Ah, the title's a true one.
Even had a leaky old castle to go with it,
until King Anguish dispossessed
me forever, plus one day.
- What was your crime?
- A limerick.
- What's that?
- A jingle, or rhyme, named after me.
They're all the rage in Ireland now,
but none can top the master.
This is the one for which I
was exiled by King Anguish.
The king of the Emerald Isle
has the skin of an old crocodile.
His jaw is like iron, and
though he keeps tryin',
'tis anguish for Anguish to smile.
[all laughing]
- I think it's very good.
Why didn't he like it?
- I can see why.
Oh, it's very funny.
- Tell us another.
- Ah, the fun is to make them
up in the spur of the moment.
What is your name, Sir Knight?
- Lancelot of the Lake.
But, could find a rhyme for
Brian easier than Lancelot.
- Well, not so.
A certain young knight of the lake,
this very true statement did make.
Romance is confusing when constantly using
a lance a lot, making men quake.
[all laughing]
- Now me.
- Well-
- No, no, no.
Not if we're to reach King
Anguish's court by nightfall.
Brian, the horses.
Now tell me, Prince.
I understand the prize for
the winner of this tournament
is to be a string of diamonds.
- Not anymore it isn't.
King Anguish's daughter
Kathleen goes to the winner now,
and no greater prize could there be.
- The winner of this tournament
becomes the heir to
King Anguish's kingdom.
- That's right, and all because of me.
- Oh, how do you mean?
- Well, you see, the
lovely, gentle Kathleen
who could have any man in all Ireland
will in fact have none but
a paupered poet prince.
- You.
- Me.
King Anguish knows that
Kathleen and I are in love,
but as he has no more use for
poets than he has for paupers,
he has forbidden us to marry.
- So the purpose of the tournament
is to find a suitable
husband for Lady Kathleen.
- That's right.
After all the best knights in Ireland
have risked their lives for her,
she'll have to marry the winner.
- But is there nothing
you can do about it?
- Oh, I shall enter the tournament
and fight for her, along with the rest.
I shall be k*lled, of course,
because I'm better with
words than I am with swords.
But I'd rather die for this
lady than live without her,
so there's an end to it.
- Well, that's a very
noble sentiment, Prince.
But is there nothing I can do to help?
- No.
Yes.
You may bring her my poem.
But exactly as I tell you, now listen.
Lady, if the moon is full,
it drank of thy fair eyes.
[dramatic music]
- Will you tell King Anguish
that a knight from King Arthur's court
begs an audience with him?
Sir Lancelot of the Lake.
- Sure, and if you'll
wait in there, m'lord,
I'll ask His Majesty.
- Thank you.
I beg your pardon.
- What'd you do?
- Nothing.
- You're not likely to
ask my pardon for nothing,
out with it, man.
- Well in Britain, where I come from-
- Britain?
That little island east of our country.
[knights chuckle]
What ill wind blew you here?
- I came to compete in your tournament.
- Compete, a British knight
wants to compete in our tournament?
[knights laughing]
- [Knight] Wicklaw's in great form today.
- Sir Lancelot of the Lake.
[dramatic music]
- You are welcome here, Sir Knight.
- My Lord Arthur sends
his greetings, sire,
and bids me represent
him in your tournament.
- Your name shall be inscribed.
- Before that is done, sire,
may we settle the question of the prize?
I was given to understand
that it was to be a string of diamonds.
- The prize now, sir,
is the hand of my daughter
Kathleen in marriage.
You're not married are you, Sir Knight?
- No, no, my Lord, I'm not married.
But, may I ask why it's necessary
to find Lady Kathleen a husband,
if she's as beautiful
and gentle as they say?
- Tell me, do I look
like a happy man to you?
- Well, I must confess,
I've seen jollier monarchs.
- Yes, and I'll tell you
why I look like this.
It's because I have a daughter
with a tongue like a horse whip.
She's worse than a
fishwife when she starts.
Very well, if you still want to see her,
you have my permission,
but don't say I didn't
give you a fair warning.
Conduct Sir Lancelot to the Lady Kathleen.
[Anguish groans]
[Lancelot knocks]
- Lady Kathleen?
[Kathleen groans]
- Well, what do you want?
- To meet you.
- Oh you do, do you?
Well, it's certain you want
to be that I have sound teeth
and I'm not sway-backed
nor broken in wing or limb.
Why, you miserable, undersized,
pale-haired, chicken-hearted-
- From Prince Limerick.
- What did you say?
- I have a message from Prince Limerick.
- Oh, how is he, staying out of the damp?
Oh, he has a weak chest, poor boy.
He shouldn't be living in the woods.
- He's in the best of health.
- Yes, but are you sure that-
- He's in the best of health.
He sends a poem to you.
- Oh.
- And he's given me strict instructions
as to how to say it to you.
You do understand I'm supposed to be he?
- Naturally, don't think
I'd allow you to do this.
- No, of course not.
I must confess, I wouldn't
let my best friend do it.
- But I understand, it's
not you that's here.
It's the wonderfulness of him.
- Oh, I must take you
across to the window.
- He knows I look my
best in a strong light.
- Yes?
Yes.
Must tilt up your chin,
speak the poem to you,
and then kiss you.
I hope you don't mind.
- I don't believe I know your name.
- It's not important.
Lancelot of the Lake.
- Oh, good Sir Lancelot.
Oh, I've missed him so.
Could I have the kiss
first, and then the poem?
- This is impossible.
If you want to kiss me
as me, that's one thing.
If you want to kiss me as him,
I'd better take you to him.
He's not very far away.
Forgive me interrupting,
but it's getting late,
and we still have to make plans
for the tournament tomorrow.
- Hm, tournament?
- Yes, your father's knights
are a pretty fierce-looking lot.
- Ha, mostly pigs.
- Well, pigs or not, our good prince here
is gonna be hard put to it to win.
- I told you, I haven't a chance.
- And what are you going to do?
- Die trying.
I've even composed me epitaph.
- Listen, Prince.
If you do marry the Lady Kathleen,
and ascend her father's throne,
will you promise to keep the peace,
and treat your people with justice?
- After Kathleen, the
thing I love best is peace.
- Good, and I somehow doubt
that the same can be
said for Baron Wicklaw.
So here's what I'm going to do,
I'm withdrawing from the tournament.
- You mean you don't
want to marry Kathleen?
- Now, let me finish.
I said I'm withdrawing,
and somehow between now
and the beginning of the tournament,
I'm gonna teach you how to fight.
Now, let's discuss the tournament.
- Ah, it depresses me.
- You know, the thing to
do is to make your opponent
so angry that he starts swinging wildly.
- Angry?
What better way to anger
than with a limerick.
- Of course!
Now, what rhymes with Wicklaw?
- Wicklaw.
Bicklaw, kicklaw.
[dramatic music]
[pleasant music]
- Good evening, Father.
Well, aren't you going to
ask me where I've been?
- I wanted to avoid an argument.
- It's always the same,
whenever you want to avoid
an argument, I want to argue.
You never do anything I want.
- If I do, then you don't want to.
You should thank the saints every night
for your beauty, my girl.
It blinds these young men as
to what you're really like.
- I can be very nice to nice people.
- Huh.
All right, then.
Where have ya been?
- None of your business.
- Oh.
Well, Sir Knight, now that
you've met my daughter,
do you still want to
enter for the tournament?
- More than ever, sire.
But since I'm here to
represent King Arthur,
who is already well and truly married,
I feel that I must withdraw
from this tournament.
[Wicklaw laughs]
- British steel gets rusty
in this Irish air, huh?
- However, since I am on my feet,
I should like to convey a
message to Baron Wicklaw.
Which is he?
- So, they've heard of me in Britain, eh?
- My message is from Limerick.
The Prince of Limerick, to be exact.
He's coming to the tournament tomorrow,
but he asked me to send you
advanced greetings in
the form of a limerick.
The Baron of Wicklaw is fat.
In his haunch, in his paunch, in his hat.
- I'll k*ll you!
- My dear sir, I am simply the messenger.
Shall I continue?
- I'll k*ll him!
- My insults intended,
I hope I've offended.
If not, may I call you a rat?
- Where is he?
- Coming.
He challenges you to single combat.
He also ordered me to take this glove and.
[wonky music]
- Just wait until tomorrow.
[Wicklaw grunts]
[ominous music]
[dramatic music]
[hooves clopping]
[swords clacking]
- Oh no, no.
I'm sorry, Prince, it's no good at all.
Oh well, let's try again, come on then.
Cut at my shoulder.
[swords clack]
Yes, now the other one.
[swords clack]
Yes.
Good!
[swords clacking]
[Limerick laughing]
Good!
- What's the matter?
- I'm afraid he's sprained his wrist.
- Not that I'll really be missed.
Had Limerick fought, as Limerick ought,
they'd have scratched
his name off the list.
- Oh!
- The tournament's started.
[Limerick sighs]
- No Prince, you can't give up hope.
I'm sorry, it's my fault
your wrist is sprained.
- Ah, not at all, I'm a weakling.
- Nevertheless, I insist
as a matter of honor
that I represent you in the tournament.
Now, get your tabard off
and give it to me, quickly.
- A foreign knight, against the Irish?
- Come on.
- Couldn't you fight with just one hand?
- No.
- Oh!
- King Anguish, me honor
burns in me like a hot fire.
Where is this Prince of Limerick?
- He probably ate too much last night.
- Call the Prince of Limerick.
- Call the Prince of Limerick.
[hooves clopping]
- [Lancelot] Your Majesty.
- Did you send a message to Wicklaw
challenging him to individual combat?
- [Lancelot] I did.
- Let the tournament begin.
- Trial one, the Prince of
Limerick and the Baron Wicklaw.
[bugle fanfare]
[hooves clopping]
- If you want to say goodbye to your poet,
this is your last chance.
[tense music]
- Father, have you ever
seen a Briton fight?
- I was surprised when that Lancelot
backed away from combat.
- Why, is he good?
- None of them is good.
Do you know, their lives are so miserable
they don't mind dying.
[ominous music]
[hooves clopping]
Your poet has been practicing.
[ominous music]
[hooves clopping]
What a blow.
No British knight could
do a thing like that.
You wouldn't expect it of a poet, either.
[plucky music]
What's he dismounted for?
He could ride Wicklaw down.
- Why Father, you're on his side.
- I've got to be, for the winner.
That's the first rule of being a king.
- He just wants to play fair.
- Oh, isn't that just like a poet for you?
- Don't play your luck too much, Limerick.
[intense music]
[swords clacking]
[court laughing]
[water trickling]
[Wicklaw yelping]
- King Anguish, I'm determined
to marry your daughter.
- Baron Wicklaw, you're lucky
that you still have your head.
- I want one more chance.
- The rules of the tournaments-
- Include the right of a monarch
to call for a melee at the end.
House of Wicklaw against
the House of Limerick.
- That's-
- He'll never survive it.
I promise you.
- That sword of his can
cut seven ways at once.
How many of your knights
will want to face it?
- None, because we won't use swords.
- Hm?
[Wicklaw chuckles]
- Shillelaghs.
- That plan is worthy of you, Baron.
The County of Wicklaw is
the home of the shillelagh.
You have many knights
who can stand up with you
while Limerick, as yet, has none.
No, no, he's won the day.
I'll keep my word.
- The strongest house in all Ireland,
the House of Wicklaw is on your side,
but supposing we turn against you.
Do you really believe that
Limerick would defend you
after the way you've treated him?
- I, I'll let you know.
- Oh darling, you were
wonderful, wonderful!
- [Limerick] It was Sir
Lancelot did the fighting.
- Oh, but it was that limerick
that put Wicklaw out of face.
He hasn't been the same since.
- Well, Prince of Limerick, Lady Kathleen?
My congratulations.
- We shall be forever in
your debt, Sir Lancelot.
- Well, when I next want a poem,
Limerick, I'll remember you.
If you take my advice,
now you've won your prize,
I should run.
- What, and miss Wicklaw's
expression at the banquet?
Haha.
I shall tell him that I sprained me wrist
when I hit him on his rocky head.
- Sir Lancelot is right,
Sir Wicklaw isn't going
to give in that easily,
and Father will think of some nasty trick.
- Not at all.
Your father is a man of honor,
and a lot cleverer than he lets on.
- Sure if our marriage
is to be a happy one,
I'll have to make all
the important decisions,
including the one that
says we take horse at once,
and don't interrupt me!
What villainy are you planning now?
- Limerick, Limerick, if you
wonder why I never smile,
I give you the reason.
- But I'm going to put a stop
to this bickering right now.
In my family, I want
love and understanding.
Say something nice to me father-in-law.
- Make him say something nice first.
- You've won the girl,
but for political reasons,
it's necessary that you fight again.
- [Kathleen] You see, you see?
- See what?
I'm ready.
Why, I feel as though I've
been cooped up all day long.
- Good, good.
Now, Wicklaw has called
for a free for all melee.
Your followers against his.
And for weapons, he
chooses the shillelagh.
- [Limerick] But-
- Now don't tell me that
it grows in County Wicklaw,
and he's the foremost expert
at it, for I know that!
- Yes, but-
- And don't tell me you have no followers,
for I know that too!
[Anguish groans]
Come on the field when the trumpet calls.
- There, you see what a beast he is?
- Thank you for your
confidence in me, Prince,
but do you mind telling
me what a shillelagh is?
- 'Tis a naughty club
made of a blackthorn.
You can powder a man's skull with one.
- I see, and am I supposed to take on
all Baron Wicklaw's band alone?
- The Prince of Limerick
is a poet and a fool,
but he is not a coward.
I didn't ask you to fight
for me in the first place,
and I don't ask you to fight for me now.
- Well, that's true enough.
But it so happens, I'm committed.
- If necessary, I shall fight alone,
but I have a plan, and
if you care to join me,
things might turn out well after all.
- Uh-huh, what's the plan?
[bugle fanfare]
- No armor, and two foreigners.
This'll be the shortest melee on record.
- I'm not speaking to you.
- At His Majesty's request,
a melee between the House of Wicklaw,
and the House of Limerick.
[ominous music]
- The Baron of Wicklaw is fat.
- In his haunch.
- In his paunch.
- In his hat!
[dramatic music]
[Lancelot laughs]
- Good, good, good!
[somber music]
- Are you all right?
- It was foul play!
Put us in a small room together.
- Get up, get up.
No, no, stay there.
Will you promise to leave
my daughter alone in future?
- I will, Your Majesty.
- And will you promise to go back
to the County Wicklaw, and stay there?
- Yes, Your Majesty.
- Okay now get up, get up.
Off with ya, off with ya.
- You are a hero.
- Well, yes I am.
- It's true, it's true.
The Baron of Wicklaw is fat.
[Anguish laughs]
In his haunch, in his paunch.
- Personally, I like the
one about you better.
- What, what, what?
- 'Tis anguish for Anguish to smile.
Ah, there's a line.
[Anguish laughs]
- Oh, it's true, it's true.
It does hurt.
[Anguish laughing]
[triumphant music]
[upbeat music]
♪ Now listen to my story ♪
♪ Yes, listen while I sing ♪
♪ Of days of old in England
when Arthur was the king ♪
♪ In days of old ♪
♪ When knights were bold ♪
♪ The stories told of Lancelot ♪
[soothing music]