Emperor of the Known World (well almost)
Dec. 29th, 2005 02:58 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
amagnumПьеса, найденная в Гугле. На английском языке. Про Велизария, Юстиниана и короля Артура.
=================
Outline: The true story of Emperor Justinian, King Arthur and the Holy Grail recently discovered scribbled on the back of an ancient commode. THIS IS AN ENTIRELY NEW WORK - MOST GRATEFUL FOR ANY ASSISTANCE
Conversation between Emperor Justinian and Belisarius, his best general, in the endless echoing halls of the imperial palace at Constantinople, circa 538 AD.
JUSTINIAN:
Ah, there you are, General – prostrate yourself comfortably – just there.
BELISARIUS:
Yes, my lord, co-equal with God, controller of the universe, master of light, ruler of the sky, Emperor of – erm – almost all the known world, leader of our...
JUSTINIAN:
SILENCE!
BELISARIUS:
Yes, my...
JUSTINIAN:
Shhhhhh!...
Better – now what do you mean – ‘almost all the known world’?
(silence)
Stop the sign language - you may talk.
BELISARIUS:
Thank you, mighty ruler, I am not much good at impressions lying down...
It’s the monks, sir.
JUSTINIAN:
Monks – monks, what in thunder are you talking about?
BELISARIUS:
At Ravenna.
JUSTINIAN:
Yes, I know Ravenna, my capital in Italia. - Not those unruly Goths again is it, all deep dark, broody and meaningful...?
Send a legion immediately and that’ll wipe the smile off their faces – hah!
BELISARIUS:
No, no – the monks have just completed the first map of the world – and...
JUSTINIAN:
Good – good – so?
BELISARIUS:
Well - erm - it's not all the same colour.
JUSTINIAN:
Oh - I understand... (laughing)
That’s fine, although I am ruler of the world I said the monks could colour the sky and oceans blue to fit in with the décor here...
Actually, everyone tells me I have an eye for that sort of thing.
BELISARIUS:
Yes, they would, majesty...
(quietly) Or wake up dead!
(full voice) The map certainly shows your heavenly input, great lord - but I noticed the land's not all shaded your imperial purple.
JUSTINIAN:
Oh, budget problem is it...?
Easy - dispatch a legion to Africa and CRUSH more shellfish to DYE.
BELISARIUS:
No good, great master.
JUSTINIAN:
Two legions?
BELISARIUS:
I am afraid it’s a more fundamental problem. There’s an island at the edge of the world called Britannia that seems to have its own Emperor. And, well, they would prefer to be coloured red.
JUSTINIAN:
I CAN’T BELIEVE THIS...!
(storms round the room in a rage, then settles - thinking)
Continue...
BELISARIUS:
I met with one Arthur, self-styled Emperor of the Britons. He was very helpful, but said he didn't believe in you. Well, I almost killed him on the spot for such impertinence. How dare he? - Fancy suggesting you don’t exist. - The very notion! - Ha...
And you know what else he said?
JUSTINIAN:
Well...!
BELISARIUS:
He thought you were just a silly legend...(snigger)
JUSTINIAN:
ENOUGH! - Remember who you are talking to.
BELISARIUS:
Ah, yes, sorry – but it was funny...
Er – I mean - they though it was funny – Obviously, I didn’t...
JUSTINIAN:
Look, I assume you dealt with this Arthur usurper.
BELISARIUS:
Yes, my lord - usual routine. There were some scruffy Saxons and Angles, oh and a few Jutes, who had holiday homes there. Not much more than squats really. My ambassadors bribed their leaders with second hand piss buckets, which we said were top-notch ale tankards. And we plied their blonde women with shiny ‘blingus’, broken combs and so on from the imperial rubbish tips.
JUSTINIAN:
Good, good. You have done well... (satisfied grin)
So, you got them to riot and attack the cities where Arthur and these Britons live? - Ha – they will be begging us to rescue them. Then, they will hand over all their gold, surrender to me and we can make their stupid island the right colour.
BELISARIUS:
Well, no...
There was a problem. The Saxons assembled for a massive party at our expense, got totally pissed for days - then, guess what? - trashed their own town. I’ve never seen anything like it! Unwashed barbarians, the lot of them.
JUSTINIAN:
That’s it! - we will have to use the secret weapon - the old church trick. Send that Roman Pope over to save their souls and frighten them into handing over all their valuables.
BELISARIUS:
Tried that. - Pope won’t have anything to do with them. The British have their own church, started by Joseph of Arimathea who - you will like this – apparently took Jesus’ last goblet to Britannia as a souvenir on a business trip, where it’s now called the Holy Grail. The crackpot monks, revere the cup, shave their head the wrong way, hold Easter celebrations on the wrong day and insist on giving all their worldly possessions away to the poor! - I mean, what sort of Christianity is that?
JUSTINIAN:
Good Grief! - I'm the Emperor - Those are my worldly goods they're giving away – This just won’t do!
You will have to invade immediately and secure all the old Roman towns to stop this new age vandalism. How are they going to pay my fat Euro taxes if they just spend, spend, spend?
BELISARIUS:
Great lord. All this is why I was hesitating to bring the map to your attention. The fact is, the Britons have sold off all the original building materials to cowboy developers. Their dwellings are all open-plan nowadays, just the foundations with rickety DIY tents over the top.
JUSTINIAN:
There is nothing for it - I shall have to use my Godlike powers to terrify these mortals into submission. (expansively) I shall cast thunderbolts in their direction, flood their houses with rain and freeze them to death in the winter – make their weather generally unsettled. That will teach them who is boss.
BELISARIUS:
(sigh, shaking head)
Oh, great Emperor – don’t get me started. I just mentioned the weather to that Arthur and he rambled on and on about how some tournament at Wimbledon had been called off because of rain – oh, I won’t bore you. Their magicians are always fiddling with the weather. The fact is, I don’t think even you could make it worse, your highness.
JUSTINIAN:
I am having second thoughts about this Britannia, Belisarius. - the subject is beginning to tire me - and anyway its time for my morning orgy. Just instruct the monks to scrunch the wretched island up in the corner of the map and paint a sea monster over it...
Oh, and tell the archivists to erase ALL mention of this Arthur tyrant from the historical records...
I don’t want anyone to hear of him EVER again!
==============
(C) http://www.morewriting.co.uk/viewwork.php?t=5962
=================
Outline: The true story of Emperor Justinian, King Arthur and the Holy Grail recently discovered scribbled on the back of an ancient commode. THIS IS AN ENTIRELY NEW WORK - MOST GRATEFUL FOR ANY ASSISTANCE
Conversation between Emperor Justinian and Belisarius, his best general, in the endless echoing halls of the imperial palace at Constantinople, circa 538 AD.
JUSTINIAN:
Ah, there you are, General – prostrate yourself comfortably – just there.
BELISARIUS:
Yes, my lord, co-equal with God, controller of the universe, master of light, ruler of the sky, Emperor of – erm – almost all the known world, leader of our...
JUSTINIAN:
SILENCE!
BELISARIUS:
Yes, my...
JUSTINIAN:
Shhhhhh!...
Better – now what do you mean – ‘almost all the known world’?
(silence)
Stop the sign language - you may talk.
BELISARIUS:
Thank you, mighty ruler, I am not much good at impressions lying down...
It’s the monks, sir.
JUSTINIAN:
Monks – monks, what in thunder are you talking about?
BELISARIUS:
At Ravenna.
JUSTINIAN:
Yes, I know Ravenna, my capital in Italia. - Not those unruly Goths again is it, all deep dark, broody and meaningful...?
Send a legion immediately and that’ll wipe the smile off their faces – hah!
BELISARIUS:
No, no – the monks have just completed the first map of the world – and...
JUSTINIAN:
Good – good – so?
BELISARIUS:
Well - erm - it's not all the same colour.
JUSTINIAN:
Oh - I understand... (laughing)
That’s fine, although I am ruler of the world I said the monks could colour the sky and oceans blue to fit in with the décor here...
Actually, everyone tells me I have an eye for that sort of thing.
BELISARIUS:
Yes, they would, majesty...
(quietly) Or wake up dead!
(full voice) The map certainly shows your heavenly input, great lord - but I noticed the land's not all shaded your imperial purple.
JUSTINIAN:
Oh, budget problem is it...?
Easy - dispatch a legion to Africa and CRUSH more shellfish to DYE.
BELISARIUS:
No good, great master.
JUSTINIAN:
Two legions?
BELISARIUS:
I am afraid it’s a more fundamental problem. There’s an island at the edge of the world called Britannia that seems to have its own Emperor. And, well, they would prefer to be coloured red.
JUSTINIAN:
I CAN’T BELIEVE THIS...!
(storms round the room in a rage, then settles - thinking)
Continue...
BELISARIUS:
I met with one Arthur, self-styled Emperor of the Britons. He was very helpful, but said he didn't believe in you. Well, I almost killed him on the spot for such impertinence. How dare he? - Fancy suggesting you don’t exist. - The very notion! - Ha...
And you know what else he said?
JUSTINIAN:
Well...!
BELISARIUS:
He thought you were just a silly legend...(snigger)
JUSTINIAN:
ENOUGH! - Remember who you are talking to.
BELISARIUS:
Ah, yes, sorry – but it was funny...
Er – I mean - they though it was funny – Obviously, I didn’t...
JUSTINIAN:
Look, I assume you dealt with this Arthur usurper.
BELISARIUS:
Yes, my lord - usual routine. There were some scruffy Saxons and Angles, oh and a few Jutes, who had holiday homes there. Not much more than squats really. My ambassadors bribed their leaders with second hand piss buckets, which we said were top-notch ale tankards. And we plied their blonde women with shiny ‘blingus’, broken combs and so on from the imperial rubbish tips.
JUSTINIAN:
Good, good. You have done well... (satisfied grin)
So, you got them to riot and attack the cities where Arthur and these Britons live? - Ha – they will be begging us to rescue them. Then, they will hand over all their gold, surrender to me and we can make their stupid island the right colour.
BELISARIUS:
Well, no...
There was a problem. The Saxons assembled for a massive party at our expense, got totally pissed for days - then, guess what? - trashed their own town. I’ve never seen anything like it! Unwashed barbarians, the lot of them.
JUSTINIAN:
That’s it! - we will have to use the secret weapon - the old church trick. Send that Roman Pope over to save their souls and frighten them into handing over all their valuables.
BELISARIUS:
Tried that. - Pope won’t have anything to do with them. The British have their own church, started by Joseph of Arimathea who - you will like this – apparently took Jesus’ last goblet to Britannia as a souvenir on a business trip, where it’s now called the Holy Grail. The crackpot monks, revere the cup, shave their head the wrong way, hold Easter celebrations on the wrong day and insist on giving all their worldly possessions away to the poor! - I mean, what sort of Christianity is that?
JUSTINIAN:
Good Grief! - I'm the Emperor - Those are my worldly goods they're giving away – This just won’t do!
You will have to invade immediately and secure all the old Roman towns to stop this new age vandalism. How are they going to pay my fat Euro taxes if they just spend, spend, spend?
BELISARIUS:
Great lord. All this is why I was hesitating to bring the map to your attention. The fact is, the Britons have sold off all the original building materials to cowboy developers. Their dwellings are all open-plan nowadays, just the foundations with rickety DIY tents over the top.
JUSTINIAN:
There is nothing for it - I shall have to use my Godlike powers to terrify these mortals into submission. (expansively) I shall cast thunderbolts in their direction, flood their houses with rain and freeze them to death in the winter – make their weather generally unsettled. That will teach them who is boss.
BELISARIUS:
(sigh, shaking head)
Oh, great Emperor – don’t get me started. I just mentioned the weather to that Arthur and he rambled on and on about how some tournament at Wimbledon had been called off because of rain – oh, I won’t bore you. Their magicians are always fiddling with the weather. The fact is, I don’t think even you could make it worse, your highness.
JUSTINIAN:
I am having second thoughts about this Britannia, Belisarius. - the subject is beginning to tire me - and anyway its time for my morning orgy. Just instruct the monks to scrunch the wretched island up in the corner of the map and paint a sea monster over it...
Oh, and tell the archivists to erase ALL mention of this Arthur tyrant from the historical records...
I don’t want anyone to hear of him EVER again!
==============
(C) http://www.morewriting.co.uk/viewwork.php?t=5962
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Date: 2005-12-29 06:33 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-12-30 03:34 pm (UTC)