Excalibur
Early version of the Screenplay
by Rospo Pallenberg and John Boorman
Adapted from "Le Morte D'Arthur" by Rospo Pallenberg
Part One : The Birth of Arthur to the Sword in the Stone
FADE IN:
EXT. FOREST - NIGHT
Darkness. The sound of battle cries and the clang of metal upon metal. The forest lights up with huge sparks flying from sword and ax as armored knights hack and swing at each other. Mounted knights collide head-on at full gallop, their armor made incandescent in the clash. Sparks eddy in their wakes and float to the ground. The forest catches fire.
MAIN TITLES on the flames. Out of the sounds of ancient battle grows music, heroic and barbaric, shot through with melancholy.
Two crazed eyes reflect the fire. The eyes belong to a man without age, at once ancient and boyish, female and male; his eyes are pained from the burden of too much knowledge. So close is he to the flames that a lock of his wild hair sizzles alight. He slaps at the fire as if it were an annoying insect. He wears a cloak of black trimmed with silver. It is Merlin. The wizard weaves a path through the burning forest, dodging the combatants, searching.
MERLIN
Lord Uther! Lord Uther!
The forest around him weeps softly with the sounds that follow slaughter. Patches of undergrowth are smoldering. Small flames lick bark and branches. Smoke floats through the trees and hovers over the bodies of the dying and the dead.
A huge knight reins up beside Merlin on a lathered horse. His armor is blood spattered. He is weary from battle. He looks down at Merlin, his countenance fierce. The blade of his sword glows with an unnatural aura.
MERLIN
It's done. A truce. We meet at the river.
UTHER (disgusted)
Talk. Lovers murmuring to each other...
EXT. RIVER, FOREST - DAY
Waiting on one bank of a small river that flows through the forest is a warlord, the Duke of Cornwall. He is flanked by his armored warriors. Lot of Lowthean prominent among them. They are battle-weary and bloodied, but they look ready to fight. Behind them is an army of lesser knights.
To the opposite bank come Uther and Merlin, a much smaller force of knights, including Uryens, Lord of Gore, surrounding them.
DUKE OF CORNWALL
I spit on your truce, Uther. If you want peace, throw down your swords.
Uther and the Duke of Cornwall glare at each other in silence across the river. Uther strains forward, burning with anger; but Merlin restrains him.
UTHER
I should butcher all and every one of them. Merlin, what is this wagging of tongues?
MERLIN
Just show the sword.
Uther unsheathes his mighty sword, and brandishes it in the air high over his head. The blade hums disquietingly and leaves a lingering electric hue upon the air. The marvel instills dread in all present.
MERLIN (waxing eloquent)
Behold the sword of power, Excalibur. Before Uther, it belonged to Lud, before Lud, to Beowulf, before Beowulf to Baldur the Good, before Baldur to Thor himself and that was when the world was young and there were more than seven colors in the rainbow.
(and in an aside to Uther)
Speak the words.
UTHER (bellowing)
One land, one king! That is my peace!
The Duke of Cornwall looks around nervously as some of his knights fall to their knees in awe.
DUKE OF CORNWALL
Lord Uther, if I yield to the sword of power, what will you yield?
UTHER
Me, yield!?
Merlin urges Uther hard.
MERLIN (a whisper)
He has given. Now you must.
The two knights glare at each other, rage contending with anger.
UTHER
The land from here to the sea is yours if you will enforce the King's will.
The enemies lock eyes and Merlin watches anxiously.
DUKE OF CORNWALL
Done!
All men from both sides break out in wild cheers.
DUKE OF CORNWALL
My Lord King Uther, let us feast together. To my castle. Lord Merlin, you must join -
But Merlin is nowhere in sight.
INT. TINTAGEL CASTLE - HALL - NIGHT
Drums and wailing flutes fill the banquet hall with a lusty rhythm. Armored warriors watch a lone woman dancing. She is very beautiful, both sensuous and innocent.
Uther sits at the long table beside the Duke of Cornwall with the barons and dukes of the land, and the lesser knights. The table is stained with wine and littered with bones and half-eaten fruit.
Uther's eyes burn with lust as he watches the dancer.
DUKE OF CORNWALL
I would wish you such a wife, Lord Uther, as my Igrayne. So innocent, but in bed, a furnace...
The Duke rises and goes to his wife, be-striding the center of the hall and Igrayne weaves circles of dance around him. He gloats with pride.
The words escape his lips:
UTHER
I must have her.
Lot spins to face him.
LOT
What? You're mad! What about the alliance?
UTHER (oblivious)
I must have her.
LOT
And risk all you've won? This castle commands the sea gate to the kingdom.
Uther is not one for politics, and Lot's words sail past him. The King lusts for Igrayne.
A bell is struck not far away. The music ceases and the hall falls silent. The great door creaks open, revealing the dawn light, and a monk steps into the hall and waits by it. Muffled by corridors of stone, a choir of monks can now be heard singing the high, ecstatic harmonies of the Te Deum. Those who have fallen asleep at the table are roused, those drunk, helped up.
INT. PASSAGEWAY, TINTAGEL CASTLE - DAWN
The monk leads the party down the hallway of the castle. Thin shafts of dawnlight filter through archers' slits in the thick walls onto stone floors. Otherwise, it is dark. Each person, lady and knight, proceeds alone, head bent, some crossing themselves.
Uther is among them. He stops in a dark alcove, breathing heavily, waiting. As the lovely Igrayne drifts past him, he pulls her out of sight of the others.
In a shaft of pale light Uther clasps Igrayne to his breastplate, his iron arm wrapped around her frail body. So violent is his embrace that she cannot breathe, her mouth is wide with fear, and her feet do not touch the ground; an impaled butterfly.
UTHER
You will be mine. Wife and queen, bed and crown.
His face is close to hers, looking as though he would devour her tender whiteness with his kiss. She doesn't answer; she can't. Even Uther understands this and lets her go.
IGRAYNE
(a fierce whisper)
I want no other crown and no other bed than those I have.
Her gown and her fragile skin torn on the spikes of his armor, Igrayne backs away and joins the procession.
Uther trembles with unreleased passion.
INT. PASSAGEWAY OUTSIDE CHAPEL, TINTAGEL CASTLE - DAWN
Igrayne enters the candlelit chapel from which issues the chant, calling the castle to worship. She rushes to her husband's side, kneeling next to him and whispering. The Duke of Cornwall looks back at Uther, hatred in his eyes. . . .
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