King Arthur: A knight is sworn to valor.
Bowen: A knight is sworn to valor.
King Arthur: His heart knows only virtue.
Bowen: His heart knows only virtue.
King Arthur: His blade defends the helpless.
Bowen: His blade defends the helpless.
King Arthur: His might upholds the weak.
Bowen: His might upholds the weak.
King Arthur: His word speaks only truth.
Bowen: His word speaks only truth.
King Arthur: His wrath undoes the wicked.
Bowen: His wrath undoes the wicked!
Draco: Who's the girl?
Bowen: A nuisance! Get rid of her.
Bowen: They're trying to placate you with a sacrifice.
Draco: [knowingly] Oh, now whoever gave them *that* bright idea?
Bowen: Never mind! Just get rid of her!
Bowen: Eat her!
Draco: Oh, please. YUCK!
Bowen: Aren't we squeamish; you ate Sir Egglemore, hypocrite!
Draco: I merely chewed in self-defense, but I never swallowed.
Bowen: I no longer try to change the world, dragon, I just try to get by in it.
Draco: Yes, well, it's better than death, I suppose.
Bowen: Oh, is it? I should think you'd welcome death. You know, the last of your kind, all of your friends dead, hunted wherever you go...
Draco: Do you delight in reminding me? Yes, knight, I do long for death, but, fear it.
Bowen: Why? Aside from your misery, what's to lose?
Draco: My soul.
Draco: When there are no more dragons to slay, how will you make a living, knight?
Bowen: SHUT UP!
Bowen: Dreams die hard and you hold them in your hands long after they've turned to dust.
[Bowen simply stares as Kara passionately implores him to help lead the rebellion]
Kara: What are you looking at?
Bowen: Myself, once upon a time.
King Einon: Ingenious, Felton; only you could keep such a good brain under such a bad hat.
King Einon: Next time stab more flesh. Less cloth.
Kara: I'll pierce your heart!
King Einon: You already did.
King Einon: Some are good at hunting men, some are good at hunting money. Both have value for me.
Draco: Such deception hardly befits a knight of the Old Code.
Bowen: Ha! Fleecing Einon's lackeys, that's a service to mankind.
Draco: Is it? When you squeeze the nobility, it's the peasants who feel the pinch.
Bowen: And now, Draco, without you, what do we do? Where do we turn?
Draco: [rising] To the stars, Bowen. To the stars.
Kara: It's been twelve years. Your castle is built. He can do you no more harm.
Kara: For God's sake, release him.
[Einon draws his bow and shoots Redbeard in the chest, he falls]
King Einon: I've always said death is a release, not a punishment!
Gilbert of Glockenspur: My humble life is indebted to your exalted prowess, your dauntless courage, and your superb, swift sword!
Bowen: You have the poet's gift of exaggeration.
Gilbert of Glockenspur: Oh, sir, you should read my histories.
Young Einon: The peasants are revolting.
Brok: They've always been revolting, Prince. But *now*, they're rebelling.
[Bowen has just pretended to kill Draco for a second time]
Gilbert of Glockenspur: Well done, Bowen! You've done it again! What a brute! That's even bigger than the last one!
Bowen: Actually, he's about the same size.
Gilbert of Glockenspur: [shoots a man in the rear end] Turn the other cheek, brother.
King Einon: [Bowen, Kara, and Gilbert enter the castle to see Einon waiting for them] Well, well, well, what a pleasant surprise. I expected you, Bowen, but with my bride-to-be as well. And with a priest to wed us.
Bowen: To bury you.
King Einon: [stands] Well, to bury one of us.
Bowen: I will not stop until I've rid the world of every last one of you.
Draco: I *am* the last one!
Bowen: You are the last.
Draco: My time is over! Strike!
Bowen: You are my friend.
Draco: Then as my friend, STRIKE, PLEASE!
Bowen: [stuck in Draco's mouth, sees an arm stuck in the teeth and plucks it out] Oh, good Lord! Sir Egglemore!
[throws the arm out behind him]
Draco: Oh, thank you very much. It's been stuck down there for months. Can you get your buttocks off my tongue?
Bowen: Why should you be comfortable? My armor is rusting in your drool and your *breath*, is absolutely *foul*!
Draco: Well, what do you expect, with an old knight rotting between my molars?
Gilbert of Glockenspur: [voiceover] And in the days following Draco's sacrifice, Bowen and Kara led the people in a time of justice and brotherhood. As I remember it now, those were golden years warmed by an unworldly light. And when things became the most difficult, Draco's star shown more brightly for all of us who knew where to look.
Draco: [chained down, bitterly] I can't *see*! Are the stars shining tonight?
Queen Aislinn: Brightly, my lord. Brightly.
Draco: Then let us end it.
Draco: Bowen, meet Kara.
[thinking Bowen has come to kill Draco, Kara waves a dagger in Bowen's face as if to protect Draco from him]
Bowen: [smirks at Draco] You should've eaten her.
Bowen: [the villagers pelt Kara when she alls for rebellion] Why waste good food on bad rhetoric?
[Bowen has been wedged in Draco's mouth for some time]
Draco: [muffled] Oh, God, my mouth is so dry.
[a rumble starts deep in his throat]
Bowen: [realizing] No, no, no! Stop! No, no, no, stop!
[Draco clears his throat, and a gob of dragon mucus hits Bowen in the face]
Draco: Sorry about that.
Lord Felton: [Bowen has just slain a dragon] Well done, knight! Congratulations. Our gratitude, mine and King Einon's.
Bowen: You can keep your gratitude; I'll take the gold. Yours or the king's.
Lord Felton: Gold, knight?
Bowen: We made a bargain, remember? One dragon put down, one bag of gold.
Gilbert of Glockenspur: Your honor has a price, Sir Knight?
Bowen: It has *expenses*. Honor won't feed my belly nor shoe my horse.
Bowen: [Draco is towing him through the air by a cable attached to his leg] You can't fly forever!
Draco: Neither can you!
Bowen: Oh, no...!
Draco: Come, visit the woods!
[flies over the canopy, dragging Bowen through the trees]
Draco: Look out!
[Bowen narrowly avoids a tree... ]
Draco: Well done!
[... and crashes into the next one]
Draco: Ooh! Pity. That must have hurt.
[yet another crash]
Draco: And again! How do you like the ride so far?
[Kara stands in the middle of the village, shouting while the villagers throw fruit and rotten vegetables at her]
Kara: Throw off the yoke of Einon's oppression! We must start to fight back!
Hewe: Your father sang that sour tune once and we did fight back, and once was enough. We'll not dance to it again!
Kara: No, Hewe, just cringe like a dog under Einon's boot!
Hewe: At least a cringing dog's a live one!
Gilbert of Glockenspur: [to the cannidbal-threating mob having just learned of Bowen's scheme, suspecting his involvement] Peace, brothers! Peace!
[the mob keeps coming, he turns to run]
Gilbert of Glockenspur: Heathens!
King Einon: I know why you brought me the dragonslayers. You wanted them to kill him because you wanted me dead.
Queen Aislinn: I wanted to correct a mistake made years ago, when I saved a creature not worth saving.
King Einon: How un-motherly of you.
Gilbert of Glockenspur: If a dragon falls in the forest and nobody gets to hear about it, does it make a thud?
Draco: [talking about Bowen earning money for killing dragons] Well, since you seek a profit, we might as well begin.
Bowen: Oh, don't flatter yourself! It's not the profit. It's the pleasure!
Draco: Perhaps less pleasurable and more costly than you think!
Bowen: [teaching Gilbert to shoot] Draw your bow, sight along the arrow, release!
[releases the arrow, arrow sticks in the dummy's head]
Hewe: Beginner's luck. Try again.
Bowen: [Gilbert releases the arrow, which sticks in the wooden dummy's crotch; laughing impressed] Brother Gilbert. You're a natural.
King Einon: [laughing] Well, well, well. It can't be. But it is! My old mentor. Still giving carving lessons?
Bowen: Get off your horse and I'll give you one.
King Einon: Time's not been kind to you, Bowen. You should never have broke with me.
Bowen: It was *you* who broke with me.
King Einon: And yet you return to me with this girl I lost.
Bowen: [Bowen looks at Kara. Kara shakes her head and raises her dagger] I think she wants to stay lost.
King Einon: Not her decision, I'm afraid!
[Brok starts to dismount, but Einon raises a hand to stop him, then dismounts himself and draws his sword]
King Einon: I'm ready for my lesson now, knight.
Kara: [Draco has been singing to her] You have a beautiful voice.
Draco: Oh, thank you. We dragons love to sing when we're happy.
Kara: Well, you're not like a dragon at all.
Draco: [leaning his head close to Kara] Well, how many dragons do you know?
Kara: Well, You're the first.
Draco: You should never listen to minstrels' fancies. A dragon would never hurt a soul, unless they tried to hurt him first.
Kara: [leans back and crosses her arms] Really? Then why were you in my village?
Draco: [remembering the mercenary scam] Oh! The village!
Gilbert of Glockenspur: Never have I seen such skill.
Bowen: Then you must have lived the sheltered life of a m...
[recognizes Gilbert for what he is]
Draco: [after Bowen has been in his mouth for several hours] It seems we're in a bit of a stalemate... Wouldn't you say?
Bowen: [Wipes away slobbery dragon spit] I can go three days without sleep.
Draco: I can go three weeks.
Bowen: [Groans in frustration] I'll stab you before I nod off.
Draco: And I'll chomp you.
Draco: Marvelous... we'll kill each other.
Bowen: What do you suggest?
Draco: A truce. Get out of my mouth and we'll talk... face-to-face.
Bowen: [sighs] How do I know I can trust you?
Draco: I give you my word.
Bowen: The word of a dragon - it's worthless.
Draco: [Growls and pushes Bowen out with his tongue] Stubborn lout!
Bowen: [Falls on his back and Draco pins him down with his forepaw] Argh! I should've known...! Go on... Kill me!
Draco: [Opens his mouth and fixes his jaw to close properly] I don't want to kill you! I never did. And I don't want you to kill *me*!
[Bowen looks at him]
Draco: How do we gain? If you win, you lose a trade. If I win, I wait around for the next sword-slinger thirsting to carve a reputation out of my hide. And I'm *tired* of lurking in holes and skulking in darkness... I'm going to let you up now, and if you insist, we can pursue this fracas to its final stupidity... or... you can listen to my alternative.
[Bowen staggers to his feet wearily groaning with the sword in his hand; gives him a hard stare]
Bowen: [in exhausted reluctance] What's the alternative?