CHARACTERS IN THE SCENE:
PRINCE: The Prince of Medi, a day-dreamer with idealistic views.
ATTENDANT 3: A Servant for the King of Medi; looks after the Prince often.
WILSON: An independent investigator from France, here to investigate allegations that the kingdom of Medi has been causing damage to the people of Albion.
ARMENIA/ARTHUR: The Princess of Medi, disguised as a servant of Albion. Accompanying Wilson. She is trying to find a way to destroy King Medi and take over as ruler, instead of her younger brother, the Prince.
LIA: Princess of Albion, pretending to be a servant from Albion.
King Medi’s Palace
Enter Attendant 3 and Prince
Prince: Something is new around here; the skies seem much more blue in Medi on this ‘morrow than most others. Everything seems to glimmer from the rain clouds to the sun-peaked hills over yonder. The birds chirp to the hedgerow; while poppets pip their way through wilderness singing their pep to the flora. What fauna do we bring but the fresh smell of wilder growth ‘pon grounds?
Attendant 3: Your sword my Prince.
Prince: Ah, thank you attendant. Well, does it not seem to you that the brighter the sky the more joy it bringeth close? It feels as though a warm breeze washes over like a chilling wave washes away the sands of time.
Attendant 3: You wish to hit target of small or large?
Prince: Oh, small please attendant. Yes everything certainly feels much more pleasant. Hear the cockerel click its heels as he scurries through the underworld and slithers through the sky. It is a most pleasant thought that such miracles could become abounding through the world. I feel most at rest when I know a smile washes the lips of those things around me.
Attendant 3: You are ready to begin, sire?
Prince: Indeed. It is beginning. It will all come to a climax in the most beautiful way.
Attendant 3: I have much confidence in you my Prince.
Prince: Thank you attendant. You are a good comrade.
[They fight with sword and shield throughout]
Prince: You weave too slow. Let us challenge the young tiger’s arms some more.
Attendant 3: Yes my Prince.
Prince: You see the dewdrops on the leaves as they fall?
Attendant 3: Yes sire, I do. It is most precious to see such gleams off still life.
Prince: Life is not still. Life can never be still. You can do what you will to any creature or plant but it will forever move. Why, I bet even this very blade I use has life of memories past gone.
Attendant 3: What memories can a sword?
Prince: Suppose attendant that this blade flew from the hands of Kings. It wept as it flew from its encased stone and charged through battle to the rightful mind; ready to strike down all pretenders in its path. A sword, more than most, that would knowest the truth of who is heart and who is merely water—a lifeless life if ever there was.
Attendant 3: Fools and fairies my Prince. A sword cannot do such wonders.
Prince: Aha! You vex the swords power. Now it strikes you down.
Attendant 3: What ho! You wield yourself against shield so strong. Your strength grow stronger every day.
Prince: My strength has not changed for my heart and mind remain same. It is the sword that chooses its destiny, as it is the giant that places the ringed stones ‘pon henges’.
Attendant 3: Even so my Prince, your Father shall be most pleased with progress.
Prince: You do not have to tell him attendant.
Attendant 3: I must Prince, he is my master.
Prince: And so, what am I?
Attendant 3: You are my Prince.
Prince: And is that what I will forever be? Why should I be of higher caste than you? You who have done me much favours in my long years.
Attendant 3: It is your right of birth my Prince.
Prince: Yes, that is the problem. Birth—well, birth is like this blade. Here it stands, made only for one purpose, but it could so easily be used as something else. One does not simply have one purpose, but has many. It cannot be this swords choice to simply cut down the shield in front of its eye.
Attendant 3: Yet it does so with much force.
Prince: The shield is not damaged.
Attendant 3: It is fine, though the same will not be said if you were to grow much more. Any steed should shudder when you cometh to battle.
Prince: Now that is another thing. War is petty and silly; it is mere revenge in disguise. Instead of looking to future, it looks upon past.
Attendant 3: War looks to heroes my Prince.
Prince: Heroes that have fallen. Wars are to be remembered in old whispers, not to be made in new dreams. The decision for war cannot be dreamt up many years afore; revenge is the element. And for revenge to come the past is where you have to lie.
Attendant 3: I suppose that may be true.
Prince: It is. War shall not be good for anybody; the stars do not fight.
Attendant 3: You must dodge my hits sire.
Prince: I will. Your hits be no match for my dodging duos. Ha! You move far too slow shield; the hare be too much of a match for thy feeble legs.
Attendant 3: Dodge.
Prince: Strike.
Attendant 3: Dodge.
Prince: Strike. Turn. Strike.
[The Prince wins]
Attendant 3: The small shield admits defeat.
Prince: Tis a shame. The blade was most enjoying their game upon measures. Its eye caught hold of a spot it’d never encountered afore, and it wished its move to be made.
Attendant 3: I shall have to get the large and challenge. There be many a new spot for you then.
Prince: And many spots hidden as well. Go then, proceed with the large.
[Enter Wilson, Armenia and Lia]
Wilson: Attendant, you are here?
Attendant 3: Yes. I am here with thine Prince of Medi.
Prince: He goes to get me new target. Practice ruins the sword and swings the cats. Ha!
Wilson: Indeed. Attendant, if you will come with us we have many questions to ask.
Attendant 3: For the enquiry?
Wilson: Yes.
Armenia: For the enquiry.
Attendant 3: And you wish to speak to myself?
Wilson: Yes, we must.
Armenia: Moiseur Wilson wishes to speak to yourself.
Attendant 3: But I must practice with my Prince.
Prince: It is okay attendant; go, do as the independent wishes.
Attendant 3: But my Prince, you must practice.
Lia: I should wish to serve the Prince. I am sure I can be of service.
Wilson: I do not know if that is advisable.
Lia: I shall be most fine. Go; be on with your questions.
Wilson: I am not sure—
Armenia: I am sure your servant will be fine master. We shall away.
Wilson: Very well. Just—
Lia: Go enquirer, do as Arthur says.
Wilson: I shall.
Attendant 3: Very well.
[Exit Wilson, Attendant 3, Armenia]
Lia: You wish me to hold the large wood?
Prince: If you would it would be most helpful lovely Lia.
[Sword practicing begins]
Lia: The sword certainly is good at its purpose. How much is it paid for its daily duties ‘cross your hand?
Prince: A fair wage. I would pay no less than what it deserves.
Lia: Its family is very lucky. Young silver hops around ancient fossils as happily as an eagle holds its nest.
Prince: Indeed. It is most pleasurable to consider its own pleasure as it strolls towards its joyous home.
Lia: You consider his home joyous?
Prince: You consider him a he? You are much as guilty as me for making accusations. Watch for blow from his temper.
Lia: Ha! Its temper is temperate. He is a he because that is what he wishes to be.
Prince: You rhyme like a fool.
Lia: Have you ne’er tried to be a fool afore? It is most fun for those who seek their sanity.
Prince: My Father should say that a royal should never act the fool. Yet, if that be true, then maybe my blood is not as blue as he hoped. I fear I am the largest of fools.
Lia: I am pleased. Your fool’s ways are most handsome. It is as much pleasant to understand the fool’s ways, as it is yours. Strike.
Prince: Strike and blow but you shall not tarry away from the dreamer’s hands. The shield doth dodge the heart of tomorrow. Ha! See weakness in its defence.
Lia: When it gets to the point it shall be much more fierce, you may be assured. Dodge young Prince for it cometh closer to your defence.
Prince: I need not fear its pitiful attempts.
Lia: You fear the fear of fear itself. War comes from thy wooden barrel top.
Prince: War? Why does it seek war when there is nothing to avenge? The sword has done nothin’ to it.
Lia: Incorrect sir. The shield feels tired of the swords fell swoops. It beats its child with great anger not too long ‘go; now it shall returneth the favour-eth. Dodge!
Prince: Strike. Dodge. Strike. You fall shield, do you submit?
[The Prince wins again]
Lia: It should say never to carry on the battle, yet the war has weakened the balsa handle to hold. I concede to the mighty blade; it surely deserves its pay.
Prince: As do you young Lia. I do hope that independents treat you right.
Lia: Monsieur Wilson? Yes, he is kind. He feels equal with all of his servants.
Prince: Ah, I wish I could feel the way that he does. I am so often friends with those who wait me that life tricks me in the back. There is nothing worse than the inequality that comes from living life as a royal or server. How canst I not feel sorry for thine who do nothing but help and receive nothing in return? I am nothing, truly nothing. I am–
Lia: Trapped.
Prince: Indeed. Trapped inside of a two-toed jewel—
Lia: With bricks meaning you are forever to stay.
Prince: Yes. Trapped with only one purpose—
Lia: To rule and produce an heir to thy Father’s name. To be—
Prince: Forever wed. Yes! Yes! Indeed. That is my feelings.
Lia: The sword whispers your feelings to the wind and the shield deflects them back.
Prince: The shield is very clever and most wonderfully bedecked with colour. It is most hard not to look at its image.
Lia: The shield feels the same with the glimmer of the swords sharp eye. Most handsome in many respects.
Prince: Wise. Strange but wise.
Lia: It is what a fool must say.
Prince: Well, then count me with the fools. I profess to all ‘I be a fool!’
Lia: I shall remember that, my Prince.
Knight: [offset] The King wishes to see his son.
Prince: I suppose I must answer the call. Goodbye fair Lia. I kiss your hand and wish you fair well. I hope it shall not be long before we meet once more. Maybe next we shall tell of great tales from old towns. ‘To be or not to be, that is his only question?’
Lia: The lips are wise.
Prince: The lips shall always be wise, for they learn their dreams offhand. Goodbye.
Lia: Goodbye fair sword.
[Exeunt]
Ah yes, the talk about the swords and shields, a conversation I still remember years after last reading this piece. The Prince is a very idealistic person, very kind and caring, but is also incredibly naïve about most of the goings on in anywhere outside of his inner circle (including most people in his inner circle). He and Lia, however, do share a lot of the same beliefs– even if their way of seeing the world is and how they respond to the world is completely different. Thank you for reading and I hope you’re having a great day. What do you think will happen next?
The Literary Onion 