Excalibur, Sword of power
Act 5 Scene 1
KING BRAN
I cannot feel my legs anymore from the dreams of the night. It is not of fear for our Lord loves the just and will not forsake his faithful ones, for even this last night I in the raiment of piety's robes baptized many.
That if one does not have passport this day we must that we few will be protected forever to never so vile protected by those above, but here the
enemy marches on us, their offspring will be cut off.
KENT
Lord, If may be so that I see more banners this day than the last.
ALBANY
The banner of the caswallawn of the king's purse seems to be joining that of the clover, if only there were more of us here. More men to fight the traitor caswallawn and Matholwch, the Irish Tyrant, yet lo do many men are still asleep in England, safe and comfortable in their beds. O! For a muse of fire, that would ascend the brightest heaven of invention to have more here; a kingdom for a stage, princes to act and monarchs to be holding the
swelling scenes. (1)
MANAWYDDAN
Base is the man who wishes such, Lord Albany. Prince Camaalis, our Bran is here with the sword of power, like himself, assumes the port of Mars. (1)
PRYDERI
True, brother of the king, why we just need you and I – and we could teach the world a new meaning for the war. Here, lords on this plain meet Nissyen
the traitor and Matholwch before us. Where here with fiery tongues a
waggin' Pwyll and Gwen, son of Nudd,'s spectral hounds staining against their leashes (2)... the trumpet sounds this day's start, let the wyld hunt begin! Let the hounds loose! Should famine, sword and fire crouch here for
employment!
KING BRAN
Hold your vigor, leek lord. Keep your mind true that slaughter should bet be gloried for it affronts the grace of heaven. We all have set our lives
on a cast of the die, a turn on the heel where destiny says, "You shall
loose the game." There across stands my brother and his son, despite this wound that graves
me, I have charged at them many a time. Aillil, brother Manawyddan, a horse. Get me my horse for the son's light has stuck at us into the field
that we must go. (3)
AILLIL
Yes, my king.
KING BRAN
Now lords, mount your steeds you, into the chariots fly. Let us show what we are made of- for our vitals will not be ransomed not at all. So on this day that live, will say to his comrades, that I was here and here with the King. Give toasts to our names; for lives are transitory, names live on as
a story each generation tells his son from this day until the crack of doom. But now, we few, we happy few, we band on brothers shall be my true
brother and hold their manhood on high if they fight on this day!
[Extent.]
ONE: Henry V
TWO: Pwyll or Gwen, the Wild Hunt and lord of the Celtic underworld, with ghost
hounds to bring the dead to rest.
THREE:
Taken from Richard III
Act 5 Scene 2
Battle
GWAWL LLWYD
Pryderi ApPwwyll, Welsh Lord, evil spirit in material form, where art thou!
Come to blows me in this contest for the reputation of my flowery lady!
PRYDERI
Here, summer-lord. Here stands frosty death with his blustery weather wolves; I in addition feel affection for my treasured spring flower. (1) She is mine, purchased and duty-bound to me from the peer of the realm of
Eurosyod.
[Enter Nissyen]
GWAWL LLWYD
Liar! hypocrite! I never have seen thy face but I think upon hellfire! It
does not make substance of what happened in that what went before -
exchange blows with me now! The clash begins!
PRYDERI
Yes, start on. You wrapped away my domicile, dog, beaker, and grain for the
sake of her. You scullion! You rampallian! You fustillarian! I shall at
this juncture on this sports ground tickle your catastophe!
[They fight with swords briefly; Nissyen draws his sword and kills Gwawl]
NISSYEN
You should express gratitude towards me for this fall removing summer. The provisions of Gwawl Llwd and now mine your dwelling, consort, dog, goblet,
and grain have been harvested with this sickle.
PRYDERI
Then meet winter wolves, pot of wrinkles! How dare you cut short a lawful swordfight, how have the courage to have you fracture my reputation! Now the harvest-lord, treasurer, turncoat shall be reaped by the bleak hounds
of wintry anguish.
[He exits as his hounds tear Nissyen apart]
GERN
[To Caradoc]
So cousin, we congregate. I even the score my father on yours. HA! Your
sovereign lies at hand in fractions, skull there carcass nearby crying about the death of his Dragonfly on my father's pike. So much settling of
scores here, the opera is almost concluded. HA! Matholwch's ill-gotten
lance shatter inside Prince Camaalis's side, the blade of supremacy
slaughters him. Then I thrust in and am rid of his cranium, now I shall send you to your father and take your wife as mine and my father's wife as
mine as well.
CARADOC
Then that Atlantis-surviving changeling did not be economical with the
truth. Here I stand to retaliate Bran, once called Camaalis, the brutal prince. At least you are at my side my lady, Tengau. I rather die than let
Gern take you as his wife! You are mine, Princess Tengau! And no one
else's!
TENGAU
[enter Falcon]
Speak of the devil, now what? I will not be a cuckold of Fand.
FALCON
Do not worry of Fand, she is now the love of Manawwydan until his wife
Rhiannon kills her. Watch here, Cardoc takes up his father's blade, the
sword of power.
[Gern and Caradoc fight on and on. Eventually, after losing an arm, Caradoc
kills Gern.]
TENGAU
[putting kisses on him]
My lord my lord! How dare you hurt yourself, your wife worries so.
FALCON
Let her worry, I must keep my word to Vivienne. Give me the sword, King
Caradoc.
BOTH
What? He belongs to us; lighting made steel belongs to our sons.
FALCON
I will make it simple. King Caradoc, your father is not dead, though beheaded. It is the sword's curse, that if mortally wounded you shall live on and on in pain until the sword is returned to the Isle of Apples, the
isle of Avalon, the land of dreams.
TENGAU
You perjure yourself, sorcerer and druid. The king is dead; long live the
king. If we give up the sword, where will it go to, it belongs to our
family?
KING BRAN
[His head lying on the floor]
King Bran speaks here, the demon-child cannot lie in this case, do what he says. For I believe him now, there shall be a greater king than me to carry the sword of power. As your father, as your king, I ask you to toss it away into the water and let it be gone. But falcon, I entreat to you that you
should advise that greater king.
FALCON
Aye, my lord, for that is what destiny wants for the Pendragon. For under him, the sword of power will have a real name. The bear-lord, Arthur, will gather around him a group of heroes to sit at a great table in a castle of
silver and gold, atop where wooden Camaalis stood, calling it Camelot.
CARADOC
[Tosses the sword]
Then anon father I will obey you so you can rest. Now go, await a greater
man then thee, Excalibur, the sword of power.
[A hand grabs it and takes it down into the waters]
Come, wife Tengau, we have children to make and a father to burry in
London's tower.
[Extent all, except Falcon]
FALCON
The play is over, please excuse and do not flame this author's unworthy
work but give alms of one hand against another in a clap making a holy sound. And do not consider I, poor Falcon, maker of kings as a cruel man or a child of some sort of dragon. I am an honest Merylin, take my hand and
let us call this the End.
FIN
ONE: A very traditional battle between summer, Gwawl Llwyd, and winter, Pryderi, over spring.
Act 5 Scene 1
KING BRAN
I cannot feel my legs anymore from the dreams of the night. It is not of fear for our Lord loves the just and will not forsake his faithful ones, for even this last night I in the raiment of piety's robes baptized many.
That if one does not have passport this day we must that we few will be protected forever to never so vile protected by those above, but here the
enemy marches on us, their offspring will be cut off.
KENT
Lord, If may be so that I see more banners this day than the last.
ALBANY
The banner of the caswallawn of the king's purse seems to be joining that of the clover, if only there were more of us here. More men to fight the traitor caswallawn and Matholwch, the Irish Tyrant, yet lo do many men are still asleep in England, safe and comfortable in their beds. O! For a muse of fire, that would ascend the brightest heaven of invention to have more here; a kingdom for a stage, princes to act and monarchs to be holding the
swelling scenes. (1)
MANAWYDDAN
Base is the man who wishes such, Lord Albany. Prince Camaalis, our Bran is here with the sword of power, like himself, assumes the port of Mars. (1)
PRYDERI
True, brother of the king, why we just need you and I – and we could teach the world a new meaning for the war. Here, lords on this plain meet Nissyen
the traitor and Matholwch before us. Where here with fiery tongues a
waggin' Pwyll and Gwen, son of Nudd,'s spectral hounds staining against their leashes (2)... the trumpet sounds this day's start, let the wyld hunt begin! Let the hounds loose! Should famine, sword and fire crouch here for
employment!
KING BRAN
Hold your vigor, leek lord. Keep your mind true that slaughter should bet be gloried for it affronts the grace of heaven. We all have set our lives
on a cast of the die, a turn on the heel where destiny says, "You shall
loose the game." There across stands my brother and his son, despite this wound that graves
me, I have charged at them many a time. Aillil, brother Manawyddan, a horse. Get me my horse for the son's light has stuck at us into the field
that we must go. (3)
AILLIL
Yes, my king.
KING BRAN
Now lords, mount your steeds you, into the chariots fly. Let us show what we are made of- for our vitals will not be ransomed not at all. So on this day that live, will say to his comrades, that I was here and here with the King. Give toasts to our names; for lives are transitory, names live on as
a story each generation tells his son from this day until the crack of doom. But now, we few, we happy few, we band on brothers shall be my true
brother and hold their manhood on high if they fight on this day!
[Extent.]
ONE: Henry V
TWO: Pwyll or Gwen, the Wild Hunt and lord of the Celtic underworld, with ghost
hounds to bring the dead to rest.
THREE:
Taken from Richard III
Act 5 Scene 2
Battle
GWAWL LLWYD
Pryderi ApPwwyll, Welsh Lord, evil spirit in material form, where art thou!
Come to blows me in this contest for the reputation of my flowery lady!
PRYDERI
Here, summer-lord. Here stands frosty death with his blustery weather wolves; I in addition feel affection for my treasured spring flower. (1) She is mine, purchased and duty-bound to me from the peer of the realm of
Eurosyod.
[Enter Nissyen]
GWAWL LLWYD
Liar! hypocrite! I never have seen thy face but I think upon hellfire! It
does not make substance of what happened in that what went before -
exchange blows with me now! The clash begins!
PRYDERI
Yes, start on. You wrapped away my domicile, dog, beaker, and grain for the
sake of her. You scullion! You rampallian! You fustillarian! I shall at
this juncture on this sports ground tickle your catastophe!
[They fight with swords briefly; Nissyen draws his sword and kills Gwawl]
NISSYEN
You should express gratitude towards me for this fall removing summer. The provisions of Gwawl Llwd and now mine your dwelling, consort, dog, goblet,
and grain have been harvested with this sickle.
PRYDERI
Then meet winter wolves, pot of wrinkles! How dare you cut short a lawful swordfight, how have the courage to have you fracture my reputation! Now the harvest-lord, treasurer, turncoat shall be reaped by the bleak hounds
of wintry anguish.
[He exits as his hounds tear Nissyen apart]
GERN
[To Caradoc]
So cousin, we congregate. I even the score my father on yours. HA! Your
sovereign lies at hand in fractions, skull there carcass nearby crying about the death of his Dragonfly on my father's pike. So much settling of
scores here, the opera is almost concluded. HA! Matholwch's ill-gotten
lance shatter inside Prince Camaalis's side, the blade of supremacy
slaughters him. Then I thrust in and am rid of his cranium, now I shall send you to your father and take your wife as mine and my father's wife as
mine as well.
CARADOC
Then that Atlantis-surviving changeling did not be economical with the
truth. Here I stand to retaliate Bran, once called Camaalis, the brutal prince. At least you are at my side my lady, Tengau. I rather die than let
Gern take you as his wife! You are mine, Princess Tengau! And no one
else's!
TENGAU
[enter Falcon]
Speak of the devil, now what? I will not be a cuckold of Fand.
FALCON
Do not worry of Fand, she is now the love of Manawwydan until his wife
Rhiannon kills her. Watch here, Cardoc takes up his father's blade, the
sword of power.
[Gern and Caradoc fight on and on. Eventually, after losing an arm, Caradoc
kills Gern.]
TENGAU
[putting kisses on him]
My lord my lord! How dare you hurt yourself, your wife worries so.
FALCON
Let her worry, I must keep my word to Vivienne. Give me the sword, King
Caradoc.
BOTH
What? He belongs to us; lighting made steel belongs to our sons.
FALCON
I will make it simple. King Caradoc, your father is not dead, though beheaded. It is the sword's curse, that if mortally wounded you shall live on and on in pain until the sword is returned to the Isle of Apples, the
isle of Avalon, the land of dreams.
TENGAU
You perjure yourself, sorcerer and druid. The king is dead; long live the
king. If we give up the sword, where will it go to, it belongs to our
family?
KING BRAN
[His head lying on the floor]
King Bran speaks here, the demon-child cannot lie in this case, do what he says. For I believe him now, there shall be a greater king than me to carry the sword of power. As your father, as your king, I ask you to toss it away into the water and let it be gone. But falcon, I entreat to you that you
should advise that greater king.
FALCON
Aye, my lord, for that is what destiny wants for the Pendragon. For under him, the sword of power will have a real name. The bear-lord, Arthur, will gather around him a group of heroes to sit at a great table in a castle of
silver and gold, atop where wooden Camaalis stood, calling it Camelot.
CARADOC
[Tosses the sword]
Then anon father I will obey you so you can rest. Now go, await a greater
man then thee, Excalibur, the sword of power.
[A hand grabs it and takes it down into the waters]
Come, wife Tengau, we have children to make and a father to burry in
London's tower.
[Extent all, except Falcon]
FALCON
The play is over, please excuse and do not flame this author's unworthy
work but give alms of one hand against another in a clap making a holy sound. And do not consider I, poor Falcon, maker of kings as a cruel man or a child of some sort of dragon. I am an honest Merylin, take my hand and
let us call this the End.
FIN
ONE: A very traditional battle between summer, Gwawl Llwyd, and winter, Pryderi, over spring.
