So I was doing what I usually do of an evening: trawling the web for medieval-adjacent bullshit. Last night I was reading about medieval rope beds and came across the blog of a medieval LARPer who had done some research about them. And while I was looking at the archives of that blog, I found this:
The dramatis personae of the scene are:
King Donald -ruler of England
Prince Don -son of the king and a privy councilor
Prince Jared -husband of the king’s eldest daughter and a privy councilor
Lady Devotia -a privy councilor
Comenius -a spy master
Ghost -the ghost of King Adonis, previous ruler of England
Act III, scene V: a courtyard
[Enter King Donald, Prince Don, and Prince Jared]
King Donald: Attend me, young lords. Princes, attend me
Tell me how goes my enterprise?
Prince Don: Sire, whom above all others I love,
Truer words than these I cannot speak.
England flourishes under your reign
As the crocuses flower after long Winter’s death.
The ploughman and the miller,
The swineherd and the tanner,
All rejoice to give a second tithe
To enrich the glory of your throne.
Prince Jared: Father, within your radiance I bask.
Know that my tongue I’d rather sever
Than speak ill news to you.
Yet the old king’s faction amongst the barons
Clamor and gnash their teeth.
They decry your wisdom and your words
And shout calumny from Parliament’s chambers.
King Donald: Weak and sniveling women, all of them.
Their dugs are dry and flat.
Jealous, they seek to grasp what I erect.
My own big hands have erected England
Out from the fleshpots of Adonis.
Barons, bah, hags they are.
We should grab them by their—-
Prince Don: Hist! Devotia comes.
[Enter Lady Devotia]
Lady Devotia: Good morrow, Sire. Princes, good morrow.
King Donald: Lady Devotia, eager am I to hear your news.
How goes the Church?
Lady Devotia: Sire, great is the honor you granted me
When into my charge the welfare of
The Church you placed. Know, o my king,
That my loyalty and love are ever yours.
From Westminster to Yorkminster have I traveled.
Even from Canterbury to Gloucester I have ridden.
I found your monasteries were full of monks
And your minsters held naught but clerks.
King Donald: So you found them. How did you leave them?
Lady Devotia: On their knees, Sire.
I changed your monks into clerks
And your clerks are now monks.
Abbott Simony has replaced Abbess Charity
As rule in the monasteries.
In the minsters I reminded the clerks of the vow of poverty.
Their coffers are now as empty as Our Lord’s purse.
Your treasury, however, overfloweth.
King Donald: Good. You’ve done well Devotia.
Would that all women had your assets.
Visit me tonight that we may
Speak of more you can do for your king.
I see my spy master approaches.
[Enter Comenius]
King Donald: What news from France, Comenius?
Comenius: Peace, Sire.
King Donald: No good news then.
Have you arrested the queen?
Comenius: No, Sire. She remains quiet in her estate.
King Donald: She plots treason. She seeks to steal my crown.
She will lie with words and lie with lords
To gain the throne, the cheating queen!
Comenius: Sire, I see it not.
All the news from France is of peace.
King Donald: False news! Lies! I wonder of thou art her man, Comenius.
Have I thy loyalty? Swear fealty to me, sirrah.
Comenius: Sire, I am your man. I am not your dog.
King Donald: You are not my man and I would not have you as my dog.
Princes!
Princes Don and Jared: Yes, Sire?
King Donald: Put down this mad cur.
[Princes Don and Jared draw knives and stab Comenius]
Comenius: O, I am slain!
[Comenius dies]
King Donald: Sons, bury that. Devotia, leave me.
[Exit Prince Don, Prince Jared, and Lady Devotia]
[Enter Ghost, unseen]
Ghost: Was that prudent?
King Donald: Comenius counseled prudence.
What wisdom in prudence
When Fortune favors the bold?
Ever have I grabbed Fortune by the short hairs
And made her my mistress, willing or no.
Ghost: Boldness wins the moment,
But loses the hour.
Prudence stores the fruits of Victory
Against the famine of setback.
King Donald: The fruits of Victory spoil when stored,
Turning sweetness to vinegar.
Wisest are those who bite deep
And let Victory’s juice perfume their beard.
Ghost: The bold bite deep, and with the fruit swallow the worm.
E’en now, a worm is on your council, chewing at the heart of England.
King Donald: A worm in my council. A torch shall I take to it.
If I cannot burnt he worm, then the heart shall burn,
And England too be damned.
[Exeunt]
written by Baron Dunstan M’Lolane
God bless these strange, earnest nerds.
I can't decide if my favorite part of all this is that Don Jr. and Jared Kushner kill James Comey, or the fact that Obama is rendered here as King Adonis, which smacks of "all politics are sexual pathology."
Also there's a video on the blog of this guy and his friends doing a dramatic reading in full medieval costume at their medieval costume club that's just too cringe to post here.