Musings
an Online Journal of Sorts

By Alyce Wilson

When we last left our fearless heroes, they were adventuring at the Pennsylvania Renaissance Faire, and Lady Alyce had just gone on a shopping expedition, buying herself trinkets.

Along the way, I had also picked up two skull rings which someone was distributing for Pyrates weekend. I put one on each pinkie.

So I was really adorned, I guess you could say.

After viewing the falconer demonstration, we stopped in at a sword shop. One of the pyrates who worked there noticed the Otakon T-shirt worn by one of our friends and talked to him excitedly. She was really cute, and they were having such a good time talking to each other that The Gryphon and I snuck off, leaving them alone.

We were standing outside a fence where another event was to take place, "Love and War with the Gigolos." Just then, a jester came up and said something to us that may have been Latin and may have been nonsense. Or a little Latin nonsense. I looked at him quizzically and then turned to The Gryphon and said, "Do you speak Jester?"

The jester repeated his phrase and then gestured toward the entrance.

"Oh, we should go in!" I said. The jester nodded, so we did. We were soon glad we had. We were treated to a fantastic display of stunt work, which involved fights, flips, jumps, even falling out of a second floor window into a side yard. A number of the players ended up in the pond in front of the tavern, sending up a huge splash.

One of the taller Italian swordsmen, Vincentio Salviolo, came out into the audience soaking wet. "Who wants a hug?" he asked. One girl volunteered right away, and then he hugged somebody else. I decided to volunteer one of our friends, and he came and hugged her. Then he said, "And one for you, because you were so anxious to point her out." He gave me a big, wet hug. Afterwards, he was referred to as "the wet Italian."

Then we went to see "The Mudpit of the Ape," a very silly skit which had been advertised to us, by one of the players, as "funny but very stupid." She was entirely right. It involved a huge monkey man and three people falling into a mudpit. What you might call low humor. This time, everyone resisted the offers of hugs afterwards.

From there we went to the Trial and Dunke, where the sheriff, Marshall Laww, brought people up, mostly costumed players, for a mock trial, with members of the audience serving as jurors. Each one was, of course, found guilty and dunked into a tank of water several times, lowered with a rope by volunteers from the audience.

The sheriff also made a point of coming out into the audience and dumping water on people, especially those who were too anxious to see people dunked.

After this, our group got separated, and The Gryphon, another friend and I wandered around, going wherever our noses would lead us. We went into a leather shop because of two guys who came out and exhorted me to touch their leather vests, then got into a contest over how good their leather vests were, with plenty of innuendoes thrown in. "But mine is softer! Wait, that came out all wrong."

I got a drummer to play for us. He was walking along carrying a drum and gave us a nod, so I asked him to play for us. Some music was drifting from the nearby pyrate ship, so he played a rollicking rhythm along with it. I applauded gleefully.

Afterwards, he took a little bow and then told us about himself. He was the queen's composer and was very excited about performing at the nuptials that evening, planned for Caterina and Fairfax. The nuptials, that is, were expected to take place provided the Duke of Tuscany would release good Caterina from her marriage contract.

The musician shook hands with the men and then took my hand to give it a kiss. That's when he noticed my skull ring. "Oh, you've been piratical," he said, a tinge of shock in his voice.

I blushed. "Yes, well..."

"That's okay. Today is a day of amnesty," he said.

"That's good." I'd hate to be the featured attraction in a pyrate hanging.

We talked a little about Drake (as in Sir Francis). The court composer knew him and said that he was a great liberator. He'd liberated this, he'd liberated that...

"Yes, he did seem a bit of a libertine," I said. The court composer laughed.

A little later, I asked a pyrate fiddler to perform for us. He played us a sprightly jig, and I danced a bit. So did a courtier, who came along and joined in. When the jig had ended, the fiddler said to The Gryphon and our male friend, "There, I've warmed her up for you fellows."

Also at about this time, we met our obligations to try some fried chicken. We had seen Lady Lettice, who along with two children, was using peacock feathers to tickle people. So we bought our chicken and then walked by her. "Yum, this is the most delicious chicken I've ever eaten," I announced loudly.

She turned to look. "So, you finally got it?" she noted.

"Yes, I told you his word was worth four of Drake's," I said, pointing to The Gryphon.

"Are you going to the chess match?" she asked.

"Wouldn't miss it."

Drake came by then and, as Lady Lettice teased him about his wager, he insisted he'd made no wager.

"Oh, yes you did!" The Gryphon and I insisted. "We witnessed it." Drake turned scarlet but tried to pretend he didn't know what we were talking about.

By the time we got to the chess match, it was so crowded we had to sit in the sun on, as it turned out, the Italian side. The chess game was the British versus the Italians, and the way it worked was this. People took places on the chess board as if they were chess pieces. The queen of England sat on one side and the Duke of Tuscany on the other. They'd command players to move.

If a player ended up on the same square as another, the chess board was cleared and the two had to duel. Whoever won the fight got to remain on that square.

Now, our good man Drake played a pawn and was therefore one of the first to be called into battle. Though he fought skillfully, he did lose. I noticed Lady Lettice jumping around on stage and gesturing to her hat while talking to another courtier. According to the wager, he would now have to wear a lady's hat for a year. Ribbons and all.

The chess match devolved into a brawl over the issue of Catarina's hand, with the Duke refusing to relent and let her marry Fairfax, her love. The queen put a stop to it all, ordering that it would be settled by the joust, with her champion fighting the duke's champion for Catarina's hand.

In between the chess match and the joust, there was more time to go a-wanderin'. Wander we did, through the streets and the shops, looking for entertainment. In this way, we stumbled upon a very abbreviated prediction of "Taming of the Shrew," at The Globe.

Their version consisted of one protracted exchange between Kate and Petrucchio, in which they assaulted each other with both a verbal barrage and punches and kicks, until she finally relented.

We then lucked upon a performance at the chess board by the Moroccan Connection. They were absolute fabulous, darlings, and not just their sequined costumes, either. They could tumble and contort themselves in all manner of ways. Their final feat of wonder was when five men either stood or otherwise placed their weight on one hapless but stoic acrobat, for a combined weight of nearly 1,000 pounds.

And then, to the joust! After gathering our friends together, we found a seat, once more on the Italian side. We should have known Italy would never win. Both our champion and the Duke of Tuscany tasted defeat in this match, despite the treachery of the English executioner Hagrid, who shot an arrow at the English champion.

And so now it was finally decided: Catarina and Fairfax could wed.

As promised, the court composer was in attendance with a merry band of musicians. The queen herself welcomed us all to the wedding. After the ceremony, the court took turns singing appropriate songs, including one called "Let's Do the Bride's Dance," which sounded suspiciously like the 20th Century song, "Let's Do the Time Warp" from The Rocky Horror Picture Show. It even had similar dance moves. It's interesting what you can learn about history, isn't it?

After all the singing and dancing, including a tribute to a soldier in the audience who was there for his birthday, on two weeks' leave from Iraq, the queen asked us all to join, holding hands, in a large circle around the grove. The court sang a song of good-bye. The Gryphon and I joined this circle. It was funny, when the somber song turned merrier, to see some modern day punks down front moshing in the middle of the circle.

But then even that was over and we reluctantly departed. As we left, the entire court and all the townspeople lined up at the front gate to shake hands and say good-bye. We saw Drake there, wearing neither his own hat, nor the beribboned one which was his fate.

Then it was just one more stop, to buy a bottle of concord wine from the Mount Hope Winery shop.

As we made our way to the car, I began removing my headpiece, my new bracelets, my skull rings. I thought about the playful day we'd just enjoyed.

"Do you suppose they're hiring?" I asked.

Read how the saga began: Renaissance Saga

Copyright 2003 by Alyce Wilson

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