Friday, 19 June 2020

Camelot - Crowning Prince Arthur



And so it came to pass that one day King Uther Pendragon of Camelot died, and his son, Prince Arthur, was to be crowned King of Camelot.

All the preparations were ready. Archbishop Pray-A-Lot had been summoned to conduct the ceremony. The celebration cake had been prepared by Sir Rising Yeast the owner of the shop The Baker’s Dozen. Sir Gassy Trumpet was ordered to prepare the music for the ceremony together with his orchestra Discordant Medieval Cacophony.

Even the national TV company had set out their cameras and sound equipment everywhere to capture the majesty and history of the occasion; only to be told by Lord Beggar-Off, the Master of Ceremonies, to dismantle all their equipment and go away because television had not yet been invented.

All that remained was to try on the crown which would be used for the coronation. Prince Arthur put it on, but since his head was slightly larger than that of his father, Uther, the crown got stuck on his head and would not come off. Try as he might, Arthur could not pull the crown off his head any more.

The beautiful servant Guinevere heard the Prince’s cries and fearing he was being attacked entered his chambers and found him struggling to get the crown off.

“What are you doing here?” shouted Arthur angrily, “get out … get out and forget what thou hast seen!”

(That’s the way they talked in medieval times. Read Chaucer and you’ll find out. You know, The Canterbury Tales and all that! They talked in long words and used Thou and Thee and Methinks and such other words!).

Anyway, Prince Arthur shouted, “Be out with thee wench!”

“I beg thy humble pardon, my Master and Prince, King-to-be,” said Guinevere trembling in fear, “I didst not know or foretell that thou would be in the shower with no accoutrement or clothing on whatsoever, as the day thou were borne. In all honour and honesty I vouch and promise thee that I have not observed, nor admired, the majestic jewels that thou possessest. Such treasures be they for your eyes only and the one thou choosest in due course to be thy bride.”

By the time she said all this, Guinevere had seen and memorised more than one can imagine. She had a photographic memory even though digital cameras had not yet been invented either. And that’s the problem with Medieval Englande; by the time you finish talking in old style language you have seen more of the Prince’s naked body than you should have. What’s wrong with saying “Sorry!” and just get out?

Anyway, the Prince was resolute, pragmatic and cold. Mostly cold.

He said, “you might as well stay now, and help me get this crown off!” as he put on his dressing-gown.

He bent his head down a little as she pulled and pulled at the crown violently in order to wrench it off his head, all the time keeping her eyes fixed on the crown jewels. Try as she might, she could not get it off. Then, in an almighty effort to break the crown free, her hands slipped and she flew backwards out of the window and fell on Gaius the old warlock dislocating his left shoulder.

At this point, hearing all the commotion, Merlin the young wizard enters Prince Arthur’s chambers.

“Can’t you knock?” asked the Prince in shorthand modern English. Amazing how quickly they learn!

“The door was wide open for all to see!” replied Merlin just as short and abruptly.

“Help me get this crown off,” said Arthur.

Merlin pretended to pull the crow off, but secretly he chanted a magic spell under his breath in order to make the crown a little larger and easier to get off.

And that’s where it all went wrong; because Merlin must have chanted the wrong spell. Remember, in those days Spell Dictionaries had not been invented and wizards and witches had to remember them all in their heads.

Suddenly, the wrong magic spell, made Arthur’s hair grow very long and very fast and very curly. Not only on his head, but all over his body. On his face, on his chest, under his arms and in places where you would rather not have a forest of long curly hair. He looked like a large stuffed Teddy Bear.

What’s more, the hair kept changing colour. One moment it was black, then red, then blue, white, green, yellow and so on with all colours of the rainbow and more vesides.

And the moral of this story, (so far), is: Do not use a magic spell to dye your hair. Use a well-known brand of hair dye instead!

14 comments:

  1. Such "wisdom" in this post! I'll keep it in mind!

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    1. Yep ... it's all to do with the right brand of hair dye.

      God bless, Cathy.

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  2. Great read for a Friday morning!

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    1. It's a great read any day, Kathy. I read it yesterday when I wrote it.

      God bless.

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  3. I soooo enjoyed this account, Victor! Well, that and the cartoon face. AND those names. Whewy!

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    1. I'm so pleased when I get it right and have my readers smile, Mevely. Thank you for your encouragement. Hopefully another episode soon.

      God bless.

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  4. Wearing a 👑 can give one a big headache!
    Merlin is such a jokester 🔮
    Great writing Victor 🏰

    God's Blessings My Funny Friend 😁

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    1. So glad I made you smile, Jan. There's a lot about Camelot which has not been revealed.

      God bless you.

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  5. Crown jewels, huh? :) Quite a hairy experience for poor King Arthur!
    Blessings, Victor!

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    1. Yep ... some things should remain a secret, Martha.

      God bless always.

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  6. A good read Victor, interesting names too.

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    1. So glad you liked it, Bill. I'll think up another episode soon, I hope.

      God bless you and yours.

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  7. Another good reason to leave my hair gray!

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