You fight with the strength of many men, Sir Knight

I am Arthur

King of the Britons

I seek the finest and the bravest knights in the land to join me in my quartered Camelot

You have proved yourself worthy

Will you join me?

You make me sad

So be it

Come, Patsy

None shall pass

What?

None shall pass

I have no quarrel with you, good Sir Knight, but I must cross this

Then you shall die

I command you

As King of the Britons, to stand aside

I move for no man

So be it!

'Tis but a scratch

A scratch?

Your arm's off!

No it isn't

Well, what's that then?

Just a flesh wound

A flesh wound

I've had worse

All right, we'll call it a draw