Chaucer: You're good. You're very good. My lords, my ladies, and everybody else here not sitting on a cushion!
[crowd roars]
Chaucer: Today... today, you find yourselves equals.
[crowd roars]
Chaucer: 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]
Chaucer: 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]
Chaucer: Thank you, thank you, I'll be here all week.

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

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.

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

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: Well I... I miss her throat.
Chaucer: Uh, still higher really, toward the heavens.
Kate: The moon at least, her breasts were not that impressive.

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.

Chaucer: I'm a writer.
Wat: A what?
Chaucer: A wha- a what? A writer. I write, with parchment, and ink. 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.

William: This is a disaster.
Roland: [staring at the tent material] Nah, I think it'll tunic up quite nicely.

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

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: [on asking Kate to mend his armor] It's just as well, they said I was daft for even asking.
Kate: Who?
William: The other armorers.
Kate: Is it because I'm a woman?
William: No, that said you were great with horseshoes, but shite with armor. The fact that you were a woman wasn't even mentioned.

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

FREE Movie Newsletter