SIF

a play by Peter Oswald

Note. My play AUGUSTINE’S OAK was the first new play at the new Globe. It’s about the conversion to Christianity by Augustine of the people of Kent. I came to see that this play was really three plays, or at least two. SIF is the first of them. It’s utterly different from AUGUSTINE’S OAK, the English people speak in alliterative verse, the Latin speakers in tetrameters (pentameters in AO.) And the King of Kent’s Christian daughter Tata is now secretly also SIF, the priestess of Woden.

characters in the play

Ethelbert, King of Kent

Eadbald, his son

Sif, a priestess and sibyl, who is also secretly

Tata, daughter of Ethelbert and

Bertha, Queen of Kent.

Eadgyth, Sif’s attendant

Augustinus, Benedictine Monk, leader of the mission to England

Laurentius, his number two

Chilperic, a Frankish monk, part of the expedition

Edwin, exiled Prince of Deira, in the north

Liudhard, chaplain of Queen Bertha

Mother, of a sick child brought for healing

Shepherd

Slave

 ONE. SIF’S SHRINE IN THE WOODS. DEAD ANIMALS HANGING FROM THE TREES.  TATA. EADGYTH, WHO IS BLIND.

TATA: I am princess Ethelburga of Kent, known as Tata. Nobody knows, but I am also, secretly, Sif, the priestess of Woden. Ha! This is his shrine. Now my father the King and my brother are coming with a question.

SHE PUTS ON HER MASK AND DANCES AROUND THE SHRINE, SHAKING HER RATTLE, AND EXITS INTO THE INNER SHRINE.  ENTER ETHELBERT AND EADBALD, AS PETITIONERS.

EADGYTH: What is your question for the lady?

ETHELBERT: Tell her King Ethelbert has come, with this question:

what shall we do, ask the One-Eyed one,

and Thor his son, what they think, if she can,

about the Christian invasion of Kent, our kingdom.

We had warning, my wife is one of them,

Queen Bertha a friend of the brothers,

we knew these men were bringing their mission,

Romans trudging the roads from Rome,

Pope Gregorius sent them, and they walked through Gaul,

and we hoped that our Lord, Woden, the wild one,

would stop them somehow, stab them or starve them,

but no, they are here, they are in our homeland,

forty of them, and Frankish monks with them,

my sweet wife’s nation, subjects of the thorn crown,

and this is different, not like the dithering

of the priest who came with my wife, weak preacher,

Liudhard, who tries hard, lank and lazy man,

not to convert us, make us Christians,

but makes do, in the chapel of Saint Martin’s,

with preaching daily to my dear wife and my daughter,

and nobody else in the whole nation.

No, this is serious now, there will be sermons

that roar with the rightness of Rome, which is rampant,

and of the King of the Franks in Paris, my wife’s father,

and all the other kingdoms of the Franks, which are Christian.

But this is Britain, here Christ is a beggarman,

and all of us warriors vowed to Woden.

We turn to him in this matter, for teaching,

since we will not now be spared from a spirit war.

We want to hear Thor, and not do the wrong thing.

Tell this to the lady whose mind is lightning.

EADGYTH ‘STARES’ AT THEM. THEY KNEEL. SHE EXITS.

ETHELBERT: How long do we wait, Eadbald?

EADBALD:                                        Father, I wonder.

ETHELBERT: Will she speak straight, or what?

EADBALD:                          Words are of this world.

ETHELBERT: You came here once, to her.

EADBALD:                                     I came here.

ETHELBERT: For what?

EADBALD:             A woman.

ETHELBERT:                        And?

EADBALD:                                       It did not turn out well.

With the woman, I mean. But –

ETHELBERT:                             Yes?

EADBALD:                                          I got some wisdom.

ETHELBERT: What kind?

EADBALD:                        Well –

ETHELBERT:                            Your head cracked, I remember –

so that was this, that was this place, then.

You were wild for awhile, and then a warrior.

But still, not the same –

EADBALD:          The stain of this place, father,

does not wash off. We will not be white again,

but marked by the god, among mankind,

that is the fee. There is no free wisdom.

Woden paid with an eye, tore out one.

ETHELBERT: Then you and I are far out in the fighting.

Twelve gods against two men.

That is bad odds in the land of Britain,

or anywhere else.

EADBALD:     We must stand firm to the end,

soul to soul, as shield to shield, solid, father.

With and against the gods, in the wild wind.

ETHELBERT: What will become of us?

EADBALD:                          Look, here is the woman again.

RE-ENTER EADGYTH, WITH TRIANGLE.

EADGYTH: She understands, and has undertaken

to carry your question about the Christians

to the god, whose answer will be given.

SHE STRIKES HER TRIANGLE THREE TIMES. SIF IS HEARD SINGING, SOFTLY AT FIRST.

SIF: Oh come all ye faithful

joyful and triumphant,

o come ye o come ye

to Bethlehem!

Come and behold him

born the King of angels!

Oh come let us adore him!

Oh come let us adore him!

Oh come let us adore him,

Christ the Lord!

SIF ENTERS DURING THIS HYMN. SHE IS MASKED.

SIF: I, by the authority invested in me by God, do condemn the heretic King Ethelbert and the heretic Prince Eadbald his son, to be burned at the stake, in the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost. Let them be handed over to the sheriff and officers for immediate execution of the sentence. Bind the prisoners!

ETHELBERT AND EADBALD ARE BOUND BY INVISIBLE HANDS.

SIF: Chain them to the stakes!

THEY ARE CHAINED TO INVISIBLE STAKES. SIF SINGS.

SIF: Holy holy holy

Lord God almighty!

Early in the morning

My song shall rise to thee!

EADBALD: Father!

ETHELBERT: Stand firm, Eadbald! It will be false fire!

SIF: Now let the fire be lit!

EADBALD: Father, I feel the flames!

SIF: The wood is green, the fire is slow!

ETHELBERT: It is her magic only!

SIFE: And let the people note this well:

after a little fire on earth,

the everlasting flames of hell!

EADBALD STARTS TO SCREAM.

EADBALD: Woden! Save me! Woden!

ETHELBERT: Stand firm! In the – be a –

HE TOO STARTS TO SCREAM. SIF SINGS.

SIF: Holy holy holy

Lord God almighty!

Early in the morning

My song shall rise to thee!

TWO. A HILL. AUGUSTINUS, LAURENTIUS, CHILPERIC. THEY ARE BENEDICTINE MONKS, ‘BLACKFRIARS,’ ALL DRESSED IN BLACK.

AUGUSTINUS: Is this the hill?

CHILPERIC:        This is the hill

that we must climb to meet the King.

AUGUSTINUS: Is he there yet?

CHILPERIC:                     I think not yet.

LAURENTIUS: Well, Augustinus, it is not

the most respectful meeting place,

this hill! But we should take it as

a compliment. He thinks we are

magicians, and our magic has

most power underneath a roof.

AUGUSTINUS: Brother Chilperic, is this true?

You understand the English best.

CHILPERIC: Yes, it is true. The English think

that if they meet us in a hall,

Christ will be master. But the sky

belongs to Tiwaz, that is Zeus,

Jupiter – and the air to Freya,

Venus – the woods to Woden, Mars,

thunder to Thor – this breeze that combs

the hill’s green hair, the sea, the stars,

the soil, are pagan, to the Pagans –

here Christ, the Lord of bricks and mortar,

is weak, and we are weak, according

to them!

AUGUSTINUS: Well we will prove them wrong!

I claim this air for Christ! This ground,

and every blade of grass that gleams,

and every little speck of stone,

and in the deepest shadows of

the darkest wood, the fox that curls

in his red sleep! All comes from Him,

I claim it all for Christ! As well

as every little attic room

or feasting hall, or loft, or barn

or stable! Every hinge and sill!

These Pagans will not find us weak

in any quarter – but for sure

will feel Christ’s power everywhere!

CHILPERIC: To be precise – the way they see it,

Christ is a ruin. We have passed

so many ruins. Entire towns

that were once crowded – when the legions

were here, the warships. And not one

of these blind silent roofless nowheres

have they rebuilt, the Jutes, the Saxons,

the folk from Anglia – this chaos

of tribes who call themselves the English.

Because they dread these heaps of failure -

the bending boards, the cornice trussed

by ivy ropes, the owls that peep

from hammered holes, in all this mould

they see the marble ghost of Caesar,

who was pulled down by Christ and smashed,

in vengeance for the cross. And so

the English build their towns of wood,

and shun the empty eagle’s nest.

AUGUSTINUS: There is the chapel of Saint Martin’s

in Canterbury, the capital,

where the King lives. An ancient Roman

church, that Queen Bertha has rebuilt –

as Charibert, the King of Paris,

her father, told us. So, Chilperic,

Christ in this place is not entirely

demolished! And from this foundation

we will build up! Now all you brothers,

find your own place to pray. The hilltop

is empty still, so we must linger.

We want the King to get there first,

this is his country – though the world

is Christ and Christ and Christ, I hold.

EXEUNT ALL BUT AUGUSTINUS.

AUGUSTINUS: Heavenly Jesus, come to me-

walk plain as day across the green

unpleasant hill – and fill my soul!

Others have seen you face to face,

Thomas could with his fingers trace

the trench and sinkholes of your wounds,

you let him place his trembling hand

into your side – a mortal hand

inside your resurrected and

perfected body. I am not

Thomas, but still my spirit strains

for echoes of your voice, my hands

dream of your wounds. But nothing comes.

HE STOPS PRAYING. LAURENTIUS HAS RE-ENTERED AND IS STANDING IN FRONT OF HIM.

LAURENTIUS: Finished?

AUGUSTINUS:         I never shall be done

till I am lifted by the son

into the sun.

LAURENTIUS:  I know. I mean,

finished for now? I think the King

will be here soon. We heard a drum –

AUGUSTINUS: Well he will come when he will come.

Are we all ready?

LAURENTIUS:  We are Rome

in Britain, and like Rome will stand.

AUGUSTINUS: I pray to God that Rome remains

free, strong and whole, our master there

our master still, or else we, here,

have got not anchor. No seabed

to anchor in!

LAURENTIUS: Byzantium

has exiled war from Italy.

AUGUSTINUS: Brother Laurentius, when you pray –

what do you see, what do you say?

LAURENTIUS: Well I say nothing – I ascend

into a place where all are one.

AUGUSTINUS: Where I go to I am alone.

LAURENTIUS: The Lord is there.

AUGUSTINUS:                But in disguise

as a deep silence and a space.

LAURENTIUS: It is the silence of the mind

when the mind’s eye surveys God’s face.

AUGUSTINUS: Which is a blank, blue vast.

LAURENTIUS:                                     It is,

because the mind has no resource,

and lacks the paints to picture it.

In fact the frame is all it has.

AUGUSTINUS: Others have seen the face of God.

LAURENTIUS: It was their long worked-for reward.

And you will win it.

AUGUSTINUS:    I have told

these failings of my heart to God

and you and no one else. To show,

dear brother, that my trust and love

in you, for you, has got no end.

LAURENTIUS: You do not have to tell me not

to tell the others.

AUGUSTINUS: No, I know.

LAURENTIUS: The heart that doubted you is dead –

I have another! 

AUGUSTINUS: My dear friend –

LAURENTIUS: It was not you I doubted but

the mission – was it sent from God,

or from Gregorius? I heard

the voice of angels cry aloud,

it is to death, the road you tread –

death of the soul!

AUGUSTINUS:  And so we stopped,

and I went back to Rome – because,

you always have been close to God,

closer than me, dear brother, and

I had to listen!

LAURENTIUS: So you got

the wrath of stern Gregorius!

AUGUSTINUS: The Holy Father understood!

He re-encouraged me. And us.

And we went onwards to the edge

of Christendom, and, in a boat,

right over – into nothingness. 

And brother, I could not have stepped

into that ship, without the love

I have for you. May we renounce

now, in this place, on this green grass,

whatever has divided us,

and be one soul, dissolved in Christ.

Now, brother, with a holy kiss

I crush the serpent in the dust,

with Christ my witness. What is past

is dead, I claim for us new life.

HE KISSES LAURENTIUS.

LAURENTIUS: Amen.

AUGUSTINUS:            Amen.  And here we stand

beyond the end. The pagan King

of all this grass, these birds, this wind,

is on his way, to let us stay,

or send us broken back again,

or cut our heads off, on this hill.

And God is missing from my mind.

LAURENTIUS: He may not kill us.

AUGUSTINUS:             He may not.

LAURENTIUS: His Queen is Christian. It would make

a chasm in their marriage bed,

to cut our heads off.

AUGUSTINUS:       He may not

care about that.

LAURENTIUS: No. He may not.

AUGUSTINUS: I do not even speak his language!

LAURENTIUS: You do. A bit. And it is simple.

AUGUSTINUS: I pray that God will fill my soul

suddenly with himself, speak forth

out of my mouth, push Augustinus

into an anthole!  

ENTER CHILPERIC AND OTHERS.

CHILPERIC: There was a trumpet. And I saw

a banner snapping at the top

of the big hill.

AUGUSTINUS: Let us go up.

THREE. HILLTOP. BERTHA, TATA, ETHELBERT, EADBALD, OTHERS.

BERTHA: Hell! Embarrassing! This hill! Why not the hall?

ETHELBERT: This is a green hand held up to heaven!

BERTHA: What if it rains? Where will they run?

EADBALD: If Thor decides to, he will thunder.

TATA: Mother, I think we must imagine

the moon, a white roof, of marble, invisible,

the grass, emerald inlaid, green fire,

a floor which gives to the foot great honour

in this palace, where, for the pope’s priests,

the wind is singing an anthem of welcome.

What room was ever so high-roofed, mother,

and decorated with such deep distances?

You can almost see the sea –

BERTHA:                     Oh my sweet daughter!

ETHELBERT: We did not pick this place to dishonour the priests!

EADBALD: But we have been warned! Sif said –

BERTHA:                                     Yes, what did Sif say?

What was the word of the sibyl, the wood-sister,

dear son, tell me what secrets she sang for you

where the doe dances in the moonlight with the Devil!

EADBALD: Well if she does, good! Your Devil is my god!

BERTHA: (REALISING SHE HAS GONE TOO FAR.) Oh Jesus, Jesus!

ETHELBERT: (FURIOUS.)        Wife, do not be jealous!

BERTHA: Forgive my lips, what they forged, forget!

TATA: Father, forgive her!

ETHELBERT:                For you I will do so, daughter!

BERTHA: It is this place, and the nearness of God’s power,

who placed Gregorius, who told Augustinus, go, hero,

to Kent, and now he is close, so close to us!

SHE THROWS HERSELF TO THE GROUND. ETHELBERT LIFTS HER UP.

ETHELBERT: Please, dear wife – we are still one another’s –

HE COMFORTS HER AND HANDS HER OVER TO TATA, AS EADBALD PULLS HIM AWAY.THE MEN TALK ASIDE.

ETHELBERT: How can we kill them here? The cries of the women –

EADBALD: Father, do you not still feel the fire?

What did Sif say? No word, only suffering!

ETHELBERT: We should have left them behind!

EADBALD:                                        What, bound them?

No other way to delay these women!

ETHELBERT: If we kill these men, cut down the Christians,

men without weapons, what is our worth then?

Honour will be washed away. And our women,

will they still love us, cleave to their lords, Eadbald?

EADBALD: Lords? We will not be their lords much longer!

Did you not hear the mad curse that came out of my mother?

That was Christ, who gives courage to women,

because he was borne by one, as I by Bertha.

With Christ a woman is a warrior.

Woden the Devil? She has not used that word before!

ETHELBERT: Is your soul made of stone, Eadbald? Think of your sister!

EADBALD: What should I think? Does she think of Thor?

Or Freya even? To me she is a foreigner,

like one of the Welsh, my weird sister!

I think she has cursed me by being a Christian!

ETHELBERT: You are not cursed!

EADBALD:                                 But she is not kind,

sweet though she seems.

ETHELBERT:       Ah Eadbald, my son,

I cannot permit it. Not in this place. Not now.

Later – and elsewhere –

EADBALD:           The longer they are here,

the stronger they will be. It is strange, father,

the fury of the fire that Sif lit in me

grows no less, and its light blinds me,

I am dark to myself, I do not know what I will do –

ETHELBERT: You will obey my command, your father and King!

EADBALD: I am not yours, father, I am the fire’s follower!

And also my friends. They have caught Sif’s fire!

HE GLANCES AROUND.

ETHELBERT: They are here? Your companions? I gave no command

for them to accompany us –

EADBALD:               But they have come!

ETHELBERT: Now I see them, crouching in the gorse! We are surrounded!

How many? A hundred at least! This is Hel’s doing!

And will you murder me too? And your  mother?

EADBALD: It is not my will – but Woden, Woden –

SOUND OF MONKS CHANTING.

BERTHA: They are here! And this hill will be called holy!

Christ protect them, with all of his power!

ENTER AUGUSTINUS, LAURENTIUS, CHILPERIC, OTHERS.

ETHELBERT: You have come to the Kingdom of Kent, Christians.

Do you speak my language, or only Latin?

CHILPERIC: I speak your language, King.

ETHELBERT:                        Well done, Christian.

CHILPERIC: I am called Chilperic. I am your Queen’s countryman,

from the land of the Franks, in fact from Paris,

and I bring greetings to the Queen from her good father,

King Charibert, who reigns there with godly charity

under the authority of Rome. He is Christ’s regent.

ETHELBERT: We have a priest here, Liudhard, who speaks Latin,

Chilperic – he is my Queen’s chaplain,

but he could not come with us today, he has a cold,

it is not convenient for him, our climate.

He did not come to Kent to convert us,

but only to attend the Queen, in quietness.

What is your purpose?

CHILPERIC:          Pope Gregorius sent us.

Our mission is this: the chapel of Saint Martin

at Canterbury is, according to report, collapsing –

and lonely, attended only by Liudhard.

So that the Holy Father, who holds the faith in his hands,

has sent from the abbey in Rome of Saint Andrew’s,

this man Augustinus, the prior, with authority

to save that ancient church and to serve in it,

under your protection, King, if you will permit him,

he and the friars that are with him – there are forty of us.

ETHELBERT: And what will they do?

CHILPERIC:                            They will sing to the divinity,

King, at matins, terse, nones and compline,

and meekly seek to serve your majesty.

ETHELBERT: It does not seem too menacing to me, this mission.

If it is merely to mend Saint Martin’s

and man the place – I will consider this petition.

BERTHA: Hallelluiah!

ETHELBERT: Now, Queen Bertha, you may greet your fellow-believers!

BERTHA: Good Augustinus, welcome, welcome,

and again welcome! Have these eyes

gazed into those of great Gregorius?

Have these lips kissed his hand? Oh heaven,

heaven is here. The holy father!

There is a line from you to him,

and I can touch it, touching you!

AUGUSTINUS: God bless you, daughter.

BERTHA:                     We were so

alone! With pagans all around,

who worship demons! Now the wall

of Rome surrounds us, and the angels!

AUGUSTINUS: Brother Laurentius, Queen – a good man –

LAURENTIUS KISSES THE QUEEN’S HAND.  

ETHELBERT: What are they gabbling, Eadbald? Have you gleaned any Latin?

EADBALD: It is some trickery I think – they are setting a trap!

BERTHA: (TO AUGUSTINUS, BRINGING TATA TO HIM.)

This is my daughter, known as Tata,

though her real name is Ethelburga.

She is a Christian! I have roped

her from the herd, at least. No other,

except for Liudhard, believes,

in Kent. We are a small communion!

AUGUSTINUS: God bless you, Tata! Two strong pillars

of faith already in this island!

So from the tiny mustard seed,

as the Lord says, a great plant springs,

and spreads!

EADBALD (TO ETHELBERT): He is telling them to kill us in our

beds! Treason!

ETHELBERT: (TO CHILPERIC) And can your leader not speak our language?

It is not hard. I would like to hear him

before I let him live in my own land.

AUGUSTINUS GIVES A BIBLE TO ETHELBERT.

AUGUSTINUS: Great King, accept this gift from Pope Gregorius.

The Holy Bible. Keep it and, one day, believe it!

ETHELBERT AWKWARDLY RECEIVES THE BIBLE AND QUICKLY HANDS IT TO A SUBORDINATE.

AUGUSTINUS: King – we have come – Christ is our captain –

from Rome, a long road, much risks taken

for the sake of your souls. It is so sweet,

the taste of Christ, honey on the soul’s tongue,

whoever knows it, wants his neighbour to have it,

however far his house, over hundreds of hills.

And so, not caring for our own carcases,

we have carried them here, through danger, to your country,

because the command of our Lord is to love, not cower,

and where He is served, there He is, for certain,

so that, bringing him here with us to Britain,

also we ourselves – we ourselves – are seeking him –

EADBALD: This is more than just mending Saint Martin’s!

He wants the whole of Kent to be Christian!

AUGUSTINUS: What did you say?

EADBALD: False! False! Lies! Lies! Not friars but fires!

AUGUSTINUS: My Lord, forgive me –

EADBALD: They have not come for building but for burning!

EADBALD DRAWS HIS SWORD.

ETHELBERT: Stand! Keep the shield wall whole!

EADBALD:                                   My head is hammering!

HE STAGGERS ABOUT, CLUTCHING HIS HEAD.

BERTHA: My son, what are you doing? Why are you dancing?

CHILPERIC: We should withdraw –

AUGUSTINUS:              No, no, we stand!

CHILPERIC: I think the Prince is a berserker –

EADBALD STARTS TO HOWL. HIS FOLLOWERS, ALL AROUND, START TO BEAT THEIR SHIELDS. BERTHA STARTS TO SCREAM.

ETHELBERT: Stand! Ah, Woden! He is yours, One-eyed One!

AUGUSTINUS: Whether we stand or fall, the Lord

is here! Maybe he wants us martyred!

EADBALD: Warriors! Now! Wield, for Woden,

your swords - cut off the heads of the Christians!

AUGUSTINUS AND LAURENTIUS START TO SING.

AUGUSTINUS, LAURENTIUS: Halleluiah! Halleluiah!

BERTHA: Eadbald! Sheathe your sword! You shame yourself!

EADBALD: Warriors!

BERTHA: Tata! Pray! Cry out to God with me! Christ help us!

TATA STEPS INTO THE CENTRE, BETWEEN EADBALD AND AUGUSTINUS AND RAISES HER HANDS. SILENCE. SHE IS FACING EADBALD. SHE FIXES HIM WITH HER EYES AND MESMERISES HIM.

TATA: Welkin’s waters fall fast on Woden’s fires!

Branch break, lightning-lit, brand fall blazing,

sizzle in a damp ditch, dim doom, down with the dead leaves.

EADBALD LETS HIS SWORD DROP, FALLS AT HER FEET. SHE STAGGERS, AND GASPS, IN PAIN FROM THE EFFORT OF WHAT SHE HAS DONE.      

FOUR. CANTERBURY. OUTSIDE A COTTAGE AT THE EDGE OF TOWN. MOTHER HOLDS HER INFANT CHILD WHO HAS FEVER.

MOTHER: Stay alive, my lamb, do not sink, little one!

Hold up your head! Oh help me, neighbour!

ENTER SHEPHERD, SLAVE, AND OTHERS.

SHEPHERD: You must be nimble now, not numb –

carry him to the Christians, come on!

With all the company that is crowding.

Have you not heard? At sunrise the holy man

hailed a new God, and healed hundreds!

SLAVE: And these were the words of the wise one: work done,

cool of the day’s end, come back, and bring your cousins,

neighbours and newcomers – tell them the good news!

MOTHER: Who is this new God?

SHEPHERD:                         I did not hear his name –

SLAVE: James it is, or Jeeves –

SHEPHERD:                                   Jeremy –

SLAVE: But the holy man knows! And heals hundreds!

MOTHER: Is it lawful to go?

SLAVE:                       Is your lad well?

Are you well? Or I? No, and we are weary!

MOTHER: I have never heard you speak so much, slave!

SLAVE: Slave and free in Jeeves are all joined!

MOTHER: May I go?

SHEPHERD:                        You must! There will be miracles!

SLAVE: Only take courage, care not for King or custom –

one cry, of joy, will cut through all cords!

Thousands are thronging, leaving Thor behind –

oh let him thunder, and throw his lump-hammer!

FIVE. THE PALACE. EADBALD STRETCHED OUT ON THE FLOOR, NOW WITH A BLANKET OVER HIM. ETHELBERT, HOLDING EADBALD’S SWORD.

ETHELBERT: Eadbald, son, you have not got your sword.

EADBALD: (WAKING, VERY CONFUSED.) Where is this camp?

ETHELBERT:                          It is the King’s hall, in Canterbury,

your home.

EADBALD:  No, my home is not in house or hall

but the black wood where the wind runs blind.

ETHELBERT: You are a man. Pick up your blade and your mind.

EADBALD: No man but a lizard, not true to any Lord,

a cat contemptuous of command,

who cannot obey the King’s will, any more than the air!

ETHELBERT: You have lain here for a night and a day, a dead lion!

Now the monks from Rome are lodged in Saint Martin’s.

EADBALD: Father, what happened? I remember the flames rising –

did you give permission?

ETHELBERT:   Your mother pleaded and pleaded,

while you lay here. I lost heart, lacking my ally!

EADBALD: What stopped me killing the brothers? I came so close!

ETHELBERT: Your sister, student of Sif, remembered her spells,

cunning she learned before she was Christian,

I reckon. She used to go there, remember,

Tata took Sif to be her teacher,

when she was a little girl, and gleaned gold from there,

before her mother won her back, strong Queen Bertha.

EADBALD: She spoke a spell?

ETHELBERT:                      She said some special thing,

that doused the fire.

EADBALD:                  And so the forty friars,

who would have been cut down by Woden,

are now manning the fortress of Saint Martin’s –

ETHELBERT: More – they are already performing miracles.

At the town’s edge, in the first field, ten thousand

gathered at dawn, to listen to Augustinus –

shepherds and carpenters, slaves and serving women.

A thousand plunged into the bath of baptism,

cast off the gods and became Christians.

EADBALD: A thousand corpses in the field then, of our companions!

What are they doing now, the monks?

ETHELBERT:                             More miracles, I imagine!

I do not know – I feel their net winding around me.

Ah, if Tata would fight for us!

EADBALD:                   That is a fantasy.

ETHELBERT: I did not know she had such powers!

EADBALD:                                     It is all pretence! 

ETHELBERT: Was that Woden working through her? You he drove wild.

How she quelled him in you, that is the question.

EADBALD: She will not crush me again! Nor any other Christian!

ETHELBERT: No, my son. So you must take up your sword again,

and not be ashamed, though you shoved aside my command.

EADBALD: I was a monster, father, less than a man!

ETHELBERT: What is this less? Less than man is more than man,

sometimes god is a bird – all the world in a hawk’s brain!

In battle, have you not seen, how forwards is backwards?

Suddenly, chaos is King, and the King nothing –

order, rank, up, down, left, right, all drowned.

Then the ground is air and the air is granite,

to step is to fall – nothing to do then but fall-fly.

That is Woden. That is Woden. The wild one.

He rose in you, and should you refuse him,

or I forbid him? No, it is a foolish King

who does not hold himself ready when that heat comes,

to put himself into his pocket, disappear,

and leave the world to the laws of Woden.

EADBALD STANDS UP. HE TAKES HIS SWORD.

EADBALD: To stop the brothers, the gods have made me a berserker.

ETHELBERT: It is a gift. It is a golden one.

And like gold, dangerous – strange and strong as doom.

But you cannot change it. Choice has vanished.

EADBALD: What is his will?

ETHELBERT:         We must watch, like wolves,

listen for his word, let him be our Lord –

in this case no earthly king can command.

EADBALD: I must eat meat – there is still mist in my mind.

ETHELBERT: Shake off shame, be sure of what you are.

I will seek Tata out, strive to understand her.

THEY EMBRACE. EXIT ETHELBERT. EADBALD STANDS A MOMENT, STILL ENTRANCED. SOUND OF HOWLING, OFF. HE WHIRLS ROUND. ENTER TATA, GIGGLING.

EADBALD: How is it funny?

TATA:                           Oh my mad family!

EADBALD: It harmed my father!

TATA:                                     To stop you hurting our mother?

EADBALD: You are not Christian! 

TATA:                                     Am I a criminal then?

EADBALD: If you are not saved, why did you save them?

If their faith is not yours, why did you fight for them?

And why do you pretend?

TATA:                       I do not pretend.

EADBALD: You tell Queen Bertha you are a believer,

bow to Mary’s son in front of your mother,

then you say spells from Sif, to stop me!

TATA: From killing the monks!

EADBALD:                      But not by Christian means!

Sister, what are you?

TATA:                    Well I am several things.

EADBALD: Who can be two things at once, and trustworthy?

TATA: God is three things.

EADBALD:             An odd little throng –

that fills the world with fire!

TATA:                             Fire will come to Freya

And Woden, it is the world’s end whatever.

EADBALD: I think you are godless!

TATA:                                  Ten gods less than you, at least!

EADBALD: You ought to help us! If you had a true heart!

Fight for Kent against the foreigners!

TATA: Father I could fight for but – you are a fool.

EADBALD: Why do you hate me?

TATA:                            How could I hate a hedgehog?

EADBALD: If I am a beast, it is because I was broken –

by a death!

TATA:       That was her doom, poor woman.

EADBALD: You had no part in it?

TATA:                                  What do you mean? Poison?

EADBALD: Swear you did not!

TATA:                             Vows are for the damned.

EADBALD: She was my love!

TATA:                              But not by her own laws!

EADBALD: You told her not to have me!

TATA:                                    Could true love have been told?

EADBALD: Then she was dead.

TATA:                          And delivered from disaster.

EADBALD: So I will never love, all of my life!

TATA: You are a prince, you cannot marry a poor person.

She would have been your mistress and nothing more,

washed off by your wife on your wedding day,

into the stinking ditch.

EADBALD:                No! My decision

was never to marry – or, if I did, for my mistress

to be my true wife, my wife less than a whisper –

TATA: Twisty as guts!

EADBALD:                  The gods are my example!

TATA: Well I have saved her from a werewolf anyway,

as it turns out, my friend from terror

at the hands of a human hound, horrible husband!

EADBALD: No! The berserkers are not beasts, they are the bravest

when war comes, and wounds, and the rape of women,

then the wild ones, the sons of Woden,

are praised, and honoured, all pray for help to them!

TATA: And some brave woman has to embrace them,

pay the price, act out pig-passion

with the blood-guzzlers, the blond garrotters!

But not my friend at least, she is with Freya –

or Mary.

ENTER BERTHA.

TATA:             Ah, God bless you, mother!

BERTHA: (TO EADBALD.) Tall tree of my heart, how is your trouble?

HE IS STILL UNSTEADY ON HIS FEET.

EADBALD: I am sturdy, mother, still able to stride!

BERTHA: Walk wisely in the world, the heart of this woman

is in your hands. Hold it and yourself well,

or you will break both. I beg you, Eadbald,

do not shatter your ship on the shore’s teeth,

keep my heart whole, save me from hell.

EADBALD: I will keep honour safe, that is my strategy.

My bones I will not defend beyond what brings honour.

BERTHA: Let me lay hands on you to heal you.

EADBALD: I need no healing, I am whole and hardy.

BERTHA: The bird has flown and the nest bleeds.

EADBALD: Eadbald is elf-wise, his element the whirlwind.

BERTHA: Mary is not in your mind, nor her manchild,

but Bertha, their servant, if none better,

you cannot evict, she will stand, Eadbald,

forever between your soul and hell’s fires!

EADBALD: The fire of hell is in the form of Mary’s child!

BERTHA: I do not ask you to believe but – do not be a berserker!

EADBALD:  Sif has spoken to us, she has given us signs!

Christ is hell in my heart, I will not be healed

till he is harrowed out of my homeland!

EXIT.

BERTHA: Tata! He will storm straight out and destroy them!

TATA: No, mother, he will not, he is still mangled.

BERTHA: What did you do to him?

TATA:                            It was just words, mother.

BERTHA: Tata, it is not enough!

TATA:                            That is the truth.

Not until the King becomes a Christian

and all the warriors abandon Woden,

will the monks be safe. That is for certain.

BERTHA: Peace! Where is peace? It is in Christ’s passion.

And yet Christ’s passion brings pandemonium,

stirs all the devils!

TATA:       But that is the world’s doom.

BERTHA: Can we speak Latin, my love, no more alliteration?

Frankish I love, my father’s tongue,

but Latin is the streets of Rome,

the shining arch and truth-straight road,

it leaps like water from a pipe!

Jesus has come! His spear of lightning

darts to and fro among the minnows,

hooking them out! A thousand Christians

already! Even Augustinus

is shocked! The angels were impatient

for his arrival – when he came,

they started straightaway! He speaks

to a packed field of peasant women

his learned and simple English phrases,

and they go down like corn, hail-flattened

by love from heaven, weeping! Agony,

that you and I could not be there

to see it! They are gathering

again – I feel my soul’s ropes strain!

But it would be too frank a challenge,

enrage your father and your brother,

if you and I stood by the Blackfriars

now! Oh it splits me! In this Kingdom

I am the Queen, but in the Kingdom

of Heaven, just a little dog

that runs to lick its master’s hand!

And I have got to keep it chained -

though tiny, it is very strong!

Oh my dear heart! If we had only

brought Ethelbert to God already,

before the brothers came! Oh Tata!

TATA: Liudhard –

BERTHA:      Let us not condemn him.

He did his task. He taught us Latin,

and how to read – that was God’s mission

for him, it seems, he is the wrong

metal for guiding down the lightning

of revelation. But he risked

his life for us, no English woman

may leave the King’s domain and wander

into a book. We must remember

to keep it secret, or our teacher

will lose his head. But as it happens

he is not staying. Augustinus,

having no need of him, has told him

to go back home, he will be sailing

happily back to Paris, shortly,

Liudhard! Leaving us two women

to do the thing he left undone:

take courage and - convert the King!

TATA: Mhm.

BERTHA:    Oh Tata! Lion-hunters

is what we must be now, not frightened

anymore! Roman Christian women

were given naked to the lions,

ripped by wild boars, big stags and panthers,

all for their faith!

TATA:              Our faith’s foundation,

their blood.

BERTHA: The task of Augustinus

is to convert the common people –

that is his special gift, it seems.

But if the King remains unchanged,

their transformation is rebellion!

The more that flock towards perfection,

the worse it is, as if this people

were taking ship, a great migration,

leaving the King to rule himself

alone. And it will reach a point,

as Augustinus swells the army

of the redeemed, and further swells them,

and the King like a belt around them

that will not loosen, oh my darling,

something must break! So we must strain

to bring the people and the King

into one fold!

TATA:   God guide our striving!

How will we do it?

BERTHA:              Prayer alone,

true Christian prayer, can guide our mission.

And Tata – Tata – there is something

I have to ask –

TATA:      Then I must answer,

and gladly will.

BERTHA:   Have you been going

to Sif, the prophetess?

TATA:                    Oh mother!

BERTHA: Tata forgive me, I am standing

before the open gate of heaven.

I can keep nothing I am thinking

silent, not anymore! God calls

all of us – now, come, little Kingdom

of Kent, into my arms, and bring,

running behind you, all of Britain,

the entire island! Crowds of Kings,

English, Welsh, Irish – and their peoples,

all scrambling up the hill together!

Fetch the lost province back, reforge

the empire, but with Christ as Caesar

in Rome, which is the new Jerusalem,

descended from the clouds! Oh Tata!

The door is open for a moment,

then closed forever and forever!

Look, I am bleeding, I am bleeding!

SHE SHOWS THAT SHE HAS THE STIGMATA.

TATA: Praise God!

TATA CALMS HER AND SITS HER DOWN, WIPES THE BLOOD.

BERTHA:           Forgive my accusation,

it was a struggle for your mother

to tear you free from that cursed woman,

when you were small, and weave around you

Christ’s crown of thorns, for your sharp armour!

And all the people and your father

and brother crying – ‘Give her to her,

leave her with Sif, she has been chosen,

blessed with prophetic blood, black vision,

she is the daughter of the goddess,

not yours, desist, Christ cannot have her,

and nor can you!’ I fought with prayer –

I could not also keep your brother –

I had to let him go, surrender

Eadbald, for the sake of Tata,

that was the word God’s mother whispered,

then I let go of him, and clamour

collapsed, around the other matter,

folk fell away from that palaver,

I was allowed to keep you, teach you,

lift you into the light, my love –

sister in faith more than my daughter.

TATA: Do not suspect me.

BERTHA:                        I do not!

But when you spoke the words of power

that saved the brothers from your brother –

they did not sound – to me – like scripture –

TATA: It was just poetry my darling!

BERTHA: Poetry?

TATA:                What the people mutter

to make their children go to sleep.

It worked for Eadbald.

BERTHA:                  Like magic!

TATA: A bit.

BERTHA:    Be very careful, Tata!

If, at this time of times, we wander

a single inch, the path is narrow

and we will fall! And if we fail

to save your father, I will perish.

SHE STAGGERS AND PROPS HERSELF UP AGAINST THE WALL. TATA HELPS HER.

BERTHA: Are you with Christ, and me?

TATA:                         I am!

BERTHA: Let us be open to each other,

my soul all glass, your soul glass too.

If there are lies, then there are shadows

that block the light, brick up the windows!

TATA: I am there, mother, where you are,

on the high cross, all pierced and bare.

I will hold nothing back! I swear,

by your brows’ blood, I will give mine!

BERTHA: Ask God to cleanse you of the stain

of Sif’s foul teaching! Pray, and pray,

and pray again! God will restore you!

I need you pure and whole beside me!

I have about three days – this body

cannot withstand them any longer,

the gusts of light! Where is he now?

The Spirit tells me – find your husband,

preach to him now, his heart is open!

Pray for me Tata! And yourself!

EXIT BERTHA.

TATA: Truth is, I never stopped going. Only at night. Not much sleep. But Sif had magic for that. And magic for my creeping out. And creeping back. Then Sif died. And left me her mask. As Sif had given it to her. And who gave it to her? Sif. And so will I. So Sif lives. I have her gift of prophecy – though it is fading. I perform the sacrifices. Woden speaks through me. Sometimes. Less and less since I learned to read. He wants the Christians dead. I had to strive against him, to save them on the hill. And that was stupid, to let Sif’s magic slip out! But I am stuck. I love my mother. And my father. And even, God help me, my brother. And Augustinus – admirable! But how the hell can I help all of them?

ENTER ETHELBERT, (A DIFFERENT WAY FROM THE WAY BERTHA WENT OUT,) WITH BIBLE.

ETHELBERT: Daughter.

TATA:                            Oh father!

ETHELBERT:                               Did I disturb your prayers?

TATA: I was only murmuring to myself, not to Mary.

Ah, your book.

ETHELBERT:          Yes, the big Bible

that came from Rome. Of course I cannot read it.

And nor can you.

TATA:                    It has bright colours.

THEY SIT AND LOOK AT THE BOOK.

ETHELBERT: These curves are like the tail of a cur,

drawn like what the dog drags.

TATA:                         Legs of the doe –

and the stiff struts of the stag, his antlers –

ETHELBERT: This is a thick wood – thorns, and nests of thrushes.

TATA: Loops of brambles and dog roses – lovely –

ETHELBERT: Rings, I see in there, and straight roof-timbers.

Christ hides in this copse, King of its creatures,

this is a wood where Woden is not welcome.

And yet, what is it? Boards, and broad leaves, bedappled.

TATA: What is written need not be remembered,

passed on or lost by poets or by priestesses.

ETHELBERT: So they will lose their skill, it will all spill out of their skull.

Where there are books there are no bards, daughter!

As for the priestess, why should the gods pour out of her

fresh streams of truth? If it is all stored

in a book, stagnant, I think they will stray,

these boards will shut her mouth, block her spring, for sure.

TATA: What if the priestess died in a plague, though,

and all of her followers, the whole folk, father,

no one to learn from her lips, the line broken,

we would be glad of a book then, truth’s beer-barrel.

ETHELBERT: Who would? You said we are all dead, of a disease –

TATA: Think though – if there came an age without Thor,

if, by a curse, the gods could not cut through the sky-skull,

speak to the folk by song or scream,

and all was silent in the mind, except sorrow.

Then the folk of that time, fatherless, in false freedom,

would have no spring, no spirit to lift them,

other than the books of the beforetime, when the world boomed

with the speech of the gods, whose words some good man wrote down.

ETHELBERT: Daughter – in such a time death would be delightful!

TATA: Life is necessity always.

ETHELBERT:                           That time will not come,

if I fling this book into a furnace, and all the falseness

brought by the brothers to the shores of Britain,

which it is my duty to defend against them!

TATA: Is this the will of God?

ETHELBERT:               The will of Woden

is to fight this God whose faith is foreign!

TATA: Father –

ETHELBERT: Help me, I am falling, daughter!

The field is full of my folk, they follow another!

If I cannot keep them I will lose this kingdom!

But if I kill the monks, I will lose your mother

and you, lose love, and howl for what I lack, Tata!

Fight for us! Sif taught you spells, you still know them!

You spoke them – it was to save the brothers,

but speak against them, and save the Kingdom!

TATA: Your wife –

ETHELBERT:      Say words to bring her to Woden,

then we will all be one!

TATA:                    Well I – well – Bertha, Woden?

ENTER EADBALD.

EADBALD: Father! The town is empty!

ETHELBERT:                                Ah, Eadbald!

EADBALD: I am awake again! All of the warriors

are waiting for your command! And the wild one

will lead us if you do not, he will keep the land!

ETHELBERT: What Sif has lit in us, blood alone will satisfy!

ENTER BERTHA.

BERTHA: What is this raging?

ETHELBERT:                  We are at war, woman!

EXEUNT ETHELBERT AND EADBALD.

BERTHA: Tata! They will cut down the brothers!

Let us die with them!

TATA:                   No, my dear!

Mary has whispered me a way!

You must stay here and fight with prayer,

keep safe, inside!

BERTHA:           No magic! Tata!

EXIT TATA WITH BIBLE.

SIX. FIELD. AUGUSTINUS, LAURENTIUS, EADGYTH. EADGYTH, HER SIGHT HAVING BEEN RESTORED, CAPERS AROUND,  KISSING THE FEET OF THE MONKS AND DANCING AROUND THEM, AND GARLANDING THEM WITH FLOWERS.

EADGYTH: I see the angels in the air around you, Augustinus!

You and Laurentius are two flames in one lantern,

one light enfolds you both, and most lustrous!

AUGUSTINUS: Eadgyth, you must end this – encomium –

it was not I who gave you sight, it was the saviour –

go and glorify him, the spring of all goodness!

EADGYTH: I will do so, and bless your souls also!

Freya has fallen, she flees, with her hair on fire!

EXIT.

AUGUSTINUS: Angels and demons crowd this woman!

LAURENTIUS: The corn is growing, Augustinus,

look, the whole field is full and flowing

with golden souls all ripe for reaping.

AUGUSTINUS: How many more of them are coming?

There are still streams of people trickling

into the field from all directions.

LAURENTIUS: I think the Devil’s dyke has broken –

truth pouring through the old illusion

that’s kept the waters dammed since Adam.

AUGUSTINUS: What will – what will I say to them?

LAURENTIUS: Dear heart, say nothing and do nothing,

just as before. You are the chasm

in the sky’s rock, through which from heaven

the waters pour. No need for thinking,

only be open.

AUGUSTINUS: I was stuffed

with straw - one touch of God, Laurentius,

and everything inside is ashes.

LAURENTIUS: Which will be manna for the people.

AUGUSTINUS: Look at them starving, stumbling blind!

LAURENTIUS: Satan will not release this people

without a fight.

AUGUSTINUS STAGGERS AND NEARLY FALLS. LAURENTIUS PROPS HIM UP.

AUGUSTINUS: Stand by me, brother!

LAURENTIUS: Close as your heart!

AUGUSTINUS:                            The howling Prince –

what was it that the princess said

to stop him killing us? Some Pagan

strange incantation? Is she Christian?

Everything here seems so impure -

LAURENTIUS: What cunning English words she muttered

I do not know - God intervened

on our behalf - that much is certain.

AUGUSTINUS: False rituals – ageless sacrifices

in the wrong place, to the wrong being,

at the wrong time. How can we help them?

They do not know that lust devours them,

that procreation is a blessing,

but that desire, without the aim

of procreation, is damnation.

Is that so puzzling a distinction?

There was a man who came today

to our first service in Saint Martin’s,

listened with all his mind, and then,

after my patient explanations,

he said to me, ‘I have just lain

beside my wife, and have not washed –

but may I still receive communion?’

Certainly not! - There was a woman

who had just given birth! I told her –

it was a boy – ‘Go home, dear daughter.

Thirty-three days from now, return,

you will be clean then.’ Off she went,

crying! And I thanked God the newborn

wasn’t a little girl! Imagine!

Sixty-six days would have occasioned

even more tears!

LAURENTIUS:  The Church not built

with hands, is slower to assemble

than any gold and marble temple!

AUGUSTINUS PRODUCES A MAP.

AUGUSTINUS: Saintly Gregorius has drawn

the future map of Britain. Twelve

bishoprics we shall have, archbishops

at Canterbury of course, and London –

after its people, the East Saxons,

have come to Christ. Myself shall be

the first Archbishop of Canterbury.

The bishops of the Welsh, whose faith

dates from the pre-barbarian time

when Britain was a province of

the empire – they who have been severed

from Mother Rome, since she was burned –

almost two hundred years - and drifting

into heretical confusions –

they shall be subject to the rule

of Canterbury, and so return

into the ancient fold.

LAURENTIUS:      Amen.

AUGUSTINUS GAZES AT THE MAP FOR A SECOND, AGHAST AT THE HUGE WORK AHEAD. HE ROLLS IT UP AND PUTS IT AWAY.

AUGUSTINUS: Do you see God?

LAURENTIUS:               Yes I do see Him.

AUGUSTINUS: See Him for me.

LAURENTIUS:                I see Him in you.

AUGUSTINUS: Come to me, Kent, come to me, Britain,

out of your crouching holts and hovels,

driven by Easterless confusion

into the arms of God, spread wide

for you, in vast self-sacrifice!

Heavenly love, that burns forever,

not the quick tinder of desire,

make your souls candles for God’s table!

LAURENTIUS: Ah, Liudhard -

ENTER LIUDHARD, CHILPERIC, OTHERS. LIUDHARD IS AN EASY-GOING FRIAR TUCK TYPE. AUGUSTINUS AND LAURENTIUS LOATHE HIM.

LIUDHARD: So – Augustinus and Laurentius,

brothers, goodbye! Good luck with this lot –

anyway, better luck than I had!

HE SURVEYS THE FIELD.

Fantastic crowd! The whole wide world!

AUGUSTINUS: Liudhard, travel safely, brother.

LIUDHARD: Water just wouldn’t turn to wine

for me! Then I tried walking on it –

sunk like a stone! You heal the blind,

well, good for you – God has his favourites!

But I did teach the Queen to read,

and Tata. That was undercover,

that was beyond the call of duty,

they would have gouged my eyes out – that was

almost asking to be a martyr!

But it was fun! And once or twice

I got a little kiss! God bless

my clever pair of royal schoolgirls!

That might be useful information

for you, that they can read, but keep it

quiet. The men – you understand –

there is no Eve in their religion,

but the gods rule, not the goddesses.

That might be useful information.

AUGUSTINUS: Brother Chilperic, thankyou for

your faithful work. Please bear our blessings

to the Queen’s father, good King Charibert!

LIUDHARD: Another thing –

AUGUSTINUS:             Your mission here

is finished! And your soul of mud

blots the clear sky of our endeavour!

Be gone!

LIUDHARD: (IMPERVIOUS.) Well yes but listen, listen –

there is a very high exception

to the low ceiling of the women –

Sif, the priestess. She holds the power.

None of the warriors will ever

tear up their ticket to Valhalla

till she says so. Don’t ask me why,

it simply is. So far your converts

are slaves who love their kind new master –

peasants and lunatics and beggars.

The Lords are hers. For God’s sake watch

Prince Eadbald! The King is kind,

and loves his wife – he might forgive you

for overstepping the permission

he gave you, to rebuild Saint Martin’s,

as you are doing with this preaching –

but Eadbald - ! So farewell Liudhard.

EXIT WITH CHILPERIC ETC. AUGUSTINUS GASPS FOR BREATH.

AUGUSTINUS: Light! Truth! Love! Grace! The dog is gone

that slept so heavy on this kingdom

it could not wake up! Now I can

begin to speak! If any people

are still to come – and there are many –

grace will extend to their arrival,

but I must speak now!

HE ADDRESSES THE CROWD.

                                             English folk!

Heaven is open! Come here for healing!

God is your home! Have no goal but him! 

VOICE OFF, MOTHER.

MOTHER: Prophet! Prophet! Help!

LAURENTIUS: An infant who is sick – his mother –

AUGUSTINUS: Let him be brought! He will be healed,

if it is God’s will!

ENTER MOTHER, HYSTERICALLY SOBBING, WITH CHILD.

MOTHER: Oh father, father! Heal my son of his fever!

AUGUSTINUS: If it is God’s will!

MOTHER:                  God will not refuse the good man!

AUGUSTINUS: Bring him to me!

MOTHER:                          He just stopped breathing!

LAURENTIUS: (ASIDE.) No, Augustinus!

MOTHER: First the fever -  his face felt like fire!

My heart said, take him to the holy man, for healing.

So I carried him here – also to make him Christian!

But as I was bringing him he just stopped breathing!

Cold now.

LAURENTIUS: (ASIDE) The child is dead!

AUGUSTINUS: Oh God, the trial you set is hard –

in front of all these people! Faith

vaster than oceans is required –

mine is a sandgrain!

LAURENTIUS: (ASIDE.) Disaster!

AUGUSTINUS: What is he called?

MOTHER:                               His name is Cenred.

LAURENTIUS: Augustinus –

AUGUSTINUS: Oh God in heaven, you who cried

Lazarus rise! And then he did,

Call Cenred back into his bones,

and raise your mission in this land!

MOTHER: Cenred! Cenred!

AUGUSTINUS: Cenred! In the name of God!

LAURENTIUS: Cenred! Cenred!

SOUND OF HOWLING OFF. ENTER TATA WITH BIBLE, SCREAMING. SHE THROWS HERSELF AT AUGUSTINUS’ FEET.

LAURENTIUS: God save us!

ENTER EADBALD WITH THE HEAD OF LIUDHARD. HE IS SMEARING THE BLOOD ON HIS FACE AND HOWLING.

EADBALD: The taste of a traitor! A treat for Eadbald!

Sweet blood of he who taught secrets to my sister!

Now all the brothers will bleed, this is the beginning!

And Christ will not dwell in Kent, drown this kingdom!

ENTER BERTHA.

BERTHA: What is this? Liudhard!?

ENTER ETHELBERT, FOLLOWING EADBALD.

ETHELBERT: The will of my warriors belongs to Woden!

BERTHA: Liudhard? Eadbald – Liudhard?

EADBALD: And the rest shall not return to Rome,

but die here, it is their doom, I will not deny them!

Their fellows will fear to follow, we will be free of them!

BERTHA: I am the wall of Rome!

SHE SHIELDS THE MONKS FROM EADBALD.

EADBALD: Keeper of secrets! Shape-shifter! Spell-speaker,

why did you lie to us, learn from Liudhard

things we cannot think, not even Thor knows –

it was to weaken us, wash Woden off our weapons!

Women are good, but when evil gets into them,

they are the worst, they are the most wicked!

AUGUSTINUS AND LAURENTIUS STEP IN FRONT OF BERTHA.

AUGUSTINUS: You will not kill your mother! Make us martyrs!

BERTHA THRUSTS BACK IN FRONT OF THEM.

BERTHA: Look! This is bravery, this is the bold blade!

See how he faces the fierce foes, foul foreigners

armoured in wool, and with words for weapons!

Strike, with your sword, straight through me and them,

and with the same point pierce the King of Paris

your grandfather, and, in Rome, Pope Gregorius, 

blind the whole island of Britain, that will not brighten again,

but coil in its own dark hole, dragon feared and despised,

the narrow channel a champion unchallengeable!

EADBALD: Woden! Wipe off the word-worms of this woman!

Let me cut through, lay Christ back in the tomb,

so that, faithful to thee, my folk may fight fiercely!

BERTHA: Ethelbert! Husband!

ETHELBERT: (HIDING HIS FACE.) The will of my warriors belongs to Woden!

EADBALD: Woden!

HE IS ABOUT TO STRIKE BERTHA. TATA SCREAMS. SHE CUTS HER THROAT AND FALLS BETWEEN THEM, BLOOD POURING. EADBALD IS STOPPED IN HIS TRACKS.

ETHELBERT: Tata!

BERTHA: Woden has killed your own child, idiot King!

ETHELBERT: Stop the blood!

BERTHA:                       No good to staunch it, she is gone.

ETHELBERT: Warrior! What is this?

EADBALD:                         It is a wonder –

more than my mind can make into a meaning -

into my flashing head, nothing is flooding!

EXIT, DROPPING HIS SWORD.

ETHELBERT: Daughter!

BERTHA: Her father did not prove her protector!

ETHELBERT: Monks, make your movements over her.

She was a Christian, let the cross guide her

over the sea of death, to the domain of heaven.

LAURENTIUS: Not possible –

AUGUSTINUS: She died for us – I think – but her doom,

being self-chosen, does not, by our belief and teaching,

permit her entrance to paradise, good King.

Nor may her coffin lie in consecrated ground,

but outside the bounds of the church she must be buried -

under the crossroads is the custom in some countries -

nor may we pray for her soul. She is a suicide.

ETHELBERT: Then what – and where –

BERTHA: Go, poor man, leave this matter to the mother.

ETHELBERT: I will go to Sif. I will seek her.

This was Woden. In his war my daughter has fallen.  

EXIT ETHELBERT.

AUGUSTINUS: With all my heart I lift you, Queen,

up to the judgement seat of heaven,

where streams of consolation spring.

Drink from them deeply - there may be,

in such a case, no help but Lethe.

LAURENTIUS: The field is void. The folk all turned

into a screech of birds and flew.

Will they come back? We do not know,

Liudhard’s head a good scarecrow.

BERTHA: I am so sorry!

AUGUSTINUS:     Queen, your prayers

are all we have – our only ally

you, in this place. If it was not

for you, we would be dead already.

But the King loves you. Cleave to him.

And shield us with your prayers. We stay.

EXEUNT AUGUSTINUS AND LAURENTIUS. MOTHER PICKS UP CENRED AND WALKS SLOWLY OFF. BERTHA AND TATA START SOFTLY LAUGHING. TATA SITS UP.

BERTHA: I did not know you were a trickster!

There is no wound!

TATA:                       Forgive me, mother!

BERTHA: Daughter, who taught you this illusion?

TATA: It was a wandering Egyptian

who travels with a grey baboon

and a young dancing old man-woman

from place to place from time to time.

BERTHA: You saved the monks.

TATA: And in return they sent me to hell.

BERTHA: Liudhard is dead! What did you do, Tata?

TATA: Stood at the crossroads and read from the Bible.

BERTHA: Tata! What did they –

TATA: Blood boiled, hearts burst, tongues erupted! And I thought I could absorb it, and save the brothers, for a moment at least, but then round the corner walked Liudhard!

BERTHA: You meant to sacrifice yourself?

TATA: I thought my father would save my life!

BERTHA: Instead another has been lost!

Oh this is chaos, this is Woden!

TATA: I am a Christian!

BERTHA:              Keep on striving

to tear away the pagan shadows

Sif wove around you with her teaching!

Your soul is chained still!

TATA:                I will struggle.

BERTHA: And Tata, no more tricks like this!

From now on, only acts of prayer!

TATA: Nothing but ‘bless my soul,’ I swear.

BERTHA: That is the way to save your father!

Who has now gone to speak to Sif,

thinking you dead.

TATA:                 No voice but hers

Could make him separate from Woden.

But why should she do that?

BERTHA:                        Hush, Tata!

Once more the Holy Spirit speaks to me -

Yes! I will go to her myself!

Plead with the priestess for my husband

and son, that she sets free their souls,

and so unbinds the soul of Britain!

TATA: Speak to Sif, mother? You, a Christian?

BERTHA: I have to Tata, I am dying.

EXIT.

TATA: So they will both be there, in Sif’s shrine – Bertha and Ethelbert – oh surely that could be the place – to bring Ethelbert to Christ – or Bertha to Woden. She has gone to Saint Martin’s to pray to God for protection, before she dares to enter Sif’s shrine. So that gives Sif time to get there! If she converts my mother to Woden, Tata will follow her, and that will be the end of the brothers.  

INTERVAL.

SEVEN. SIF’S GROVE. ETHELBERT.

ETHELBERT: Summer night, soften for me the stern forest.  

No servant anymore. She has found a new saviour,

I think. Only these thickets to receive the King,

and the jay cackles in the canopy with strange joy,

in the not-night, star-fish caught in a blue net.

What am I King of? Where has Kent gone?

Broken off Britain into the brine

where Christ the octopus walks underwater, crying.

And what kind of father am I? Surely a false one,

who makes his child do murder, cut down a man,

a priest, a man of peace, searcher for perfection.

Always I weave my will into the will of Woden,

but Woden, the wise one, is also the wicked one,

Lord of the Dice, who deals out defeat and victory

according to his mood, which for men is murky.

Chaos and crisis are his companions,

he, at the spring of wisdom, sipped, and paid not with silver

but with one of his eyes. And I have not drunk from there,

but gulped from the well of confusion many a gallon,

and paid with my daughter, my heart’s dear diamond,

so I have lost not my eyes but the light – the light –

and what kind of husband am I, how have I helped the woman

from whom sprang such a daughter, such a son –

whom I have discarded for the love of destruction.

HE GOES INTO PRAYER. ENTER SIF. SHE TAKES OFF MASK.

TATA: My father! Sif, please suggest to him, gently – a shift to the faith of his wife, for the sake of them both – will you please?

SHE PUTS MASK BACK ON, MOVES AROUND THE SHRINE, SHAKING HER RATTLE. ETHELBERT COMES OUT OF HIS PRAYER.

SIF: Ethelbert!

ETHELBERT:    Priestess! I have lost everything!

SIF: You have lost nothing!

ETHELBERT:              It started with Liudhard!

SIF: Not even he is lost!

ETHELBERT:       You mean, he is in heaven?

SIF: How could he manage to be martyred, such a lazy man?

Yet that was his fate, the priest’s prize – praise him!

ETHELBERT: Priestess – you know I am a King, that considerations

lower than statecraft, must not stupefy me.

Kent is my next of kin, the kingdom my family,

if I have not lost Kent, then I have lost nothing,

as you say. And yet, Sif, priestess, it seems to me

that I have lost so much, my mind is no longer mine,

and so I will lose Kent next, in my confusion.

Kent is at the crossroads. The road of the cross

leads off to left and right – the old road, the road of Woden

and his sons and daughters, your road Sif – leads straight on

into increasing darkness. But darkness hides all dooms.

Sif, priestess, my daughter is dead.

My son runs crazy, his mind all noughts and crosses.

What have I got but my wife? But the will of Woden

crushes her, because I cannot be a Christian,

which is the wish of her heart, for the world’s healing.

SIF: Why do you not convert?

ETHELBERT:                            Ah Sif, when we came,

my son and myself, here, to ask you about the monks,

wishing to win through you some wisdom from Woden,

he filled us both with flames, fierce as the finish of things!

That was his message about the monks – no middle ground!

SIF: It is the truth.

ETHELBERT:      Why does she not convert, tell me!

But we will not see that, so now, Sif, Tata is gone

into the fire! And Eadbald! And soon this fool too!

HE THROWS HIMSELF TO THE GROUND. SIF TAKES OFF MASK, SPEAKS TO THE AUDIENCE AS TATA.

TATA: Ah Sif you almost said it! Of course you cannot. Tata could – but she is dead!

EXIT. ETHELBERT LOOKS UP.   

ETHELBERT: What? Has she gone? What am I to do? Weep?

No, wait here awhile for the word of Woden.

Who is this?

ENTER TATA, (WITHOUT MASK,) ANOTHER WAY FROM THE WAY SHE WENT OUT AS SIF. SHE IS CARRYING A CROSS HASTILY PUT TOGETHER OUT OF TWO PIECES OF WOOD.

ETHELBERT: Tata!

HE IS TERRIFIED.

ETHELBERT: It is her phantom. Protect me, Thor, Freya!

What do you want to tell me, Tata?

What has made you turn back? Only something terrible

could make you want to walk in the world again –

SHE INDICATES THE CROSS, KNEELING IN REVERENCE, BESEECHING HIM.

ETHELBERT: From across death’s gulf she calls me to Christ!

Can I trust a ghost? Is this true? Ah,Tata,

if I could kiss you!

SHE WAVES HIM AWAY, POINTS AGAIN TO THE CROSS, TURNS AND SADLY LEAVES.  

ETHELBERT:            My bones are creaking,

heart already cracked. Oh Jesus Christ!

RE-ENTER TATA AS SIF, FROM THE INNER SHRINE.

ETHELBERT: Tata appeared to me!

SIF:                                       That was a trick, a trial.

ETHELBERT: If you say so, Sif –

SIF:                                   Sh! Someone is coming!
Wait for my word, King, it is the best way –

SHE USHERS ETHELBERT INTO SHRINE. SIF TAKES OFF THE MASK AND BECOMES TATA.

TATA: This is very nearly impossible. I am right but – Sif, Sif is right too! I hate Woden! And love, love him! I love Christ! And hate, hate him! The flames were a prophecy. Great cruelty and madness the cross will bring to my country. Ah, mother!

SHE PUTS MASK BACK ON, CROUCHES DOWN IN A CORNER AS IF LISTENING TO THE GROUND. BERTHA.

BERTHA: Heaven forgive me. I have come,

repulsed, into this nest of lies,

not with belief, believe me, heaven,

but as a saint in steel who strides

bravely, into the werewolf’s lair!

Faith be my lamp, the air is brown

as if with folded bats that cling

to the cave roof of my own mind.

This is the limit of my faith.

Now I have crossed, left Christ behind.

What I must sacrifice to save

my son, my husband and my land,

not even He would ever give.

SIF: Bertha!

BERTHA:  Are you the priestess?

SIF:                                  Yes I am.

BERTHA: I spoke to you in English but

you answered me in Latin.

SIF:                            Yes.

Are you impressed?

BERTHA:              I am surprised.
Are you the Sibyl Virgil followed

into the underworld?

SIF:                   I could be.

What do you want?

BERTHA:          Priestess, you tried

to steal my daughter’s soul, you are

the Queen of all that I abhor!

I fought against you, and the Lord

helped me – I won, you let her go.

But still my husband and my son

are yours. Now this is my demand:

release the King!

SIF:                That is not easy.

BERTHA: Oh, let him go!

SIF:                           What will you give me?

BERTHA: My soul! If you will let him go,

here, on your altar, I will cut

my throat, and sell myself to Woden!

SIF: A sacrilegious sacrifice.

BERTHA: Do you not want my soul?

SIF:                         I do.

BERTHA: I give it for the soul of Britain!

SIF: And you will be a ghost that howls

in every syllable of English -

BERTHA: But Britain will be free of Woden!

SIF: Perhaps. Perhaps not.

BERTHA:                  Will you take

my blood price?

SIF:                         No! It is degrading!

Horrible! It pollutes this shrine,

even the mention of it! Christian,

you cannot make a ransom of

your soul by slaughtering your body!

Killing your body rots your soul!

How did you think you could cheat Woden?

He is the master of all dealers!

Out of this wood! Go on, get going!

So I can purify my shrine

of this delinquency!

BERTHA:                 It was

despicable, this ploy of mine,

but you are vile, so I considered

that a low offer would be welcome –

SIF: You cannot speak like that to Woden!

Farewell!

EXIT BERTHA IN TEARS. SIF TAKES OFF MASK.

TATA:    Oh mother, mother, mother!

RE-ENTER BERTHA. TATA ONLY HAS TIME TO HIDE THE MASK UNDER HER SHIRT. HER BACK IS TO BERTHA.  

BERTHA: GIVE ME MY HUSBAND!

TATA TURNS.

BERTHA: Tata!

TATA:                 Where is the priestess, mother?

BERTHA: She was just here!

TATA:                         I was so scared!
I came to save you!

BERTHA:             Oh my darling!

You must not stay here!

TATA:                         Mother – mother –

I think my father is still here!

BERTHA: Here?

TATA:             In the shrine – oh my dear darling,

what did Sif say to you?

BERTHA:                    She mocked me!

But I will crush her, do not worry!

Where is she now?

TATA:                        I think I saw her

running away!

BERTHA:      She feels Christ’s power!

TATA: Mother – I think the time is now,

Sif having quit the field of battle,

for you to try to snatch your husband

up the bright ladder of the angels –

BERTHA: Here? Now?

TATA:                       Here! Now!

BERTHA:                        God help me, Tata!

TATA: He must not see me –

BERTHA:                     Run, my darling,

straight to the chapel of Saint Martin’s,

and pray, pray, pray – for him and me,

and for yourself!

TATA:               God help you, mother!

EXIT.

BERTHA: Ethelbert?

ENTER ETHELBERT FROM THE SHRINE.

ETHELBERT: Bertha?

BERTHA:                             Forgive me, King, for being here.

ETHELBERT: Did you seek Sif?

BERTHA:                        At soul’s risk I sought her.

ETHELBERT: To ask for wisdom from Freya’s father, Woden?

BERTHA: To ask for freedom.

ETHELBERT:                 For yourself?

BERTHA:                                    For my children’s father!

I love him and long for us to serve the same Lord!

ETHELBERT: Charibert left my faith free when he chose me

to be your husband.

BERTHA:                 But I hoped! I begged heaven!

And I still do! Even here, in faith’s dungeon!

In hell itself I howl for my husband!

ETHELBERT: This leaves me little peace.

BERTHA:                                     I seek perfection

of peace for us both!

ETHELBERT:    And how will this be, Bertha?

BERTHA: If you – believe –

ETHELBERT:         Well yes, that would bind us better.

BERTHA: Could you?

ETHELBERT:             No.

BERTHA:                        Christ help me then, comfort me!

I sold my soul!

ETHELBERT:   You what?

BERTHA:                          To Sif I sold it!

ETHELBERT: To save me?

BERTHA:                       Yes!

ETHELBERT:                       Did she accept it?

BERTHA:                                        No, certainly.

ETHELBERT: Then sweet wife go home, Sif is your saviour.

Christ will not condemn a contract unsigned.

Go – go home –

BERTHA:                I go –

ETHELBERT:                      Forgive me – good woman –

BERTHA: I have failed – and now I feel my heart falling -

EXIT BERTHA.

ETHELBERT: Dear – whatever – Lord Nameless – what is this world?

She sells her soul for me –that is so strange.

I am married to something mighty.

But I cannot serve Christ, abandon my Kingdom.

I feel the false fate of this island, its Christian future,

a rock-devouring sea, swaying against me -

I stand, a cliff, and if I crack or crumble,

the land is lost, and we must all speak Latin.  

RE-ENTER SIF.

ETHELBERT: Wise lady, Woden has answered in his own way.

If I fail to understand, I am the fool, not Freya’s father.

Now my mind is a maze of his making,

there is no other way out than my own wisdom.  

EXIT.

SIF TAKES OFF MASK.

TATA: Ah sweet! They spoke! But it did no good! What else can I do? I have died, come back as a ghost! Still he is stunned, and stuck! She is desperate! Hopeless! Oh my poor father and mother! Poor Kent! Poor Britain! Poor me, I am spinning! Oh what will stop me? Oh – who is this? I don’t know this one!

PUTS MASK BACK ON. ENTER EDWIN, WITH MONEY WHICH HE LAYS AT HER FEET.

EDWIN: I am Edwin, evicted Prince of Deira, an exile,

driven from the dear north by Ethelfrith, the man-dragon.

I bring this offering, Priestess, and ask for your prayers:

that the King of Kent will help me get back my kingdom.

EXIT. SIF REMOVES MASK, TATA STANDS STUNNED.

TATA: I love him.

EIGHT. PALACE. EDWIN AND EADBALD, DRUNK.

EADBALD: She was incredible! I said kiss me and she did!

EDWIN: I told you, Eadbald! Didn’t I tell you?

Not every cunt in Kent is Christian!

EADBALD: But she is, Edwin! That’s what’s incredible!

She had a cross round her sweet neck – I kissed it!

EDWIN: You kissed the fucking cross, man?

EADBALD:                 Yes, by mistake!

It was the neck I was trying to nibble –

EDWIN: Oh no! Catastrophe! That means you are a Christian!

EADBALD: What? You got to be baptized, you stupid bugger!

EDWIN: No, no, kiss is the quick way, say in a crisis,

like in a drought, and all the fonts are drained dry –

kiss the cross and you are a Christian,

no joke. You have been joined to Jesus.

Amen!

EADBALD: Ah fuck you arsehole! Edwin!

In all my life, I have never laid eyes on

such a complete and utter codswobbler!

EDWIN: There is one hope. You can be healed, man,

reverse this rapid switch of religions –

you can extinguish this cross-kiss that’s made you Christian –

EADBALD: How? How? Tell me, for the love of Tuesday!

EDWIN: This, man, is a very solemn mystery,

dangerous magic. What you have got to do,

whilst whispering the sacred name of Woden, is –

kiss the arse of a Christian woman.

EADBALD: Ah!

HE WHISPERS IN EDWIN’S EAR.

EDWIN: Oh well thank Thor for that, you’re alright then!

Dive into my arms, you dog of the old dispensation!

THEY EMBRACE.

EADBALD: Frankly, northerner, you are a fucking miracle-worker.

How did you appear when I was at pitch black,

drag me out of the depths of the dungheap,

and steer me straight to that strawberry woman!

She was my first.

EDWIN:                Oh yes and I am Freya.

EADBALD: She was my first!

EDWIN:                         That is fairly unbelievable –

EADBALD: My sister cursed me! She is a Christian!

There was a woman I loved! I lost her

because my sister swore false secrets to her!

EDWIN: That was a complicated knot you have cut with a kiss, brother!

So you have a sister. You did not say anything about her.

Is she – does she – would she – I mean should I - ?

EADBALD: Yesterday she cut her throat.

EDWIN:                                   Freya! The King was so calm

when I was presented to him!

EADBALD:                            He is a proud man.

EDWIN: Poor King, to have such an embassy as mine enter,

be forced to take in my frantic petition,

dwell on my doom, on the death-day of his daughter!

No wonder he wanted a night to consult Woden,

as well as his counsellors, about my case.

EADBALD:                                Here he comes.

ENTER ETHELBERT.

ETHELBERT: Yes, yes and yes. What you asked me yesterday,

I agree to, Edwin. Your exile must be brought to an end.

It is elf-wisdom – Ethelfrith cannot have everything!

Forgive me, dear friend, for delaying this decision,

other concerns had all crowded me into a corner.

Stay with us, till we have established a force to strike north.

Eadbald will entertain you.

EADBALD:                   Edwin entertains Eadbald!

ETHELBERT: Now I am needed, forgive me.

EDWIN:                         My Lord, and my father!

HE KNEELS. ETHELBERT PLACES HIS HAND ON HIS HEAD, EXITS.

EADBALD: Fate has sent me a brother!

EDWIN:                                  Things are getting better!

EADBALD: Brother, I have got to tell you – I am a berserker!

EDWIN: Woooo!

EADBALD: I cut off a Christian priest’s head. Well, it was Woden –

EDWIN: Now that is naughty, Eadbald, they need their noddles!

ENTER BERTHA, WANDERING, VERY SICK, IN NIGHT-SHIRT.

EADBALD: My mother –

BERTHA:                    Who is this?

EADBALD:                         The man of the moment –

Edwin of Deira!

EDWIN:           Deep consolations on the death of your daughter,

Queen.

BERTHA: Oh she is quite alright. It is her father

whose doom will be my death. I can do nothing.

Are you a Christian?

EDWIN:                  I was with the Welsh, in their country,

and learned all about their faith, even some Latin,

but I am not baptized.

BERTHA:                   Tell me about them.

EDWIN: They love loud noises, especially their own language,

they are always worrying words, the Welsh, like dogs bones,

rigorously debating details of doctrine,

bishop against bishop, and the crowd baying!

The winner is famous forever, and everyone’s father!

Ethelfrith, my enemy, with his army, entered their territory,

and a hundred monks were massed in a hollow valley,

whose chorus boomed so loud in the echoey canyon,

the dire dragon dashed back north, totally deafened.

Well, Queen, that is the best I can do.

BERTHA:                                 Remember Bertha,

who, even when Romans came right here, with strong religion,

could not bring Kent to Christ. So that the Welsh kingdoms,

enemies of ours, remain, would you believe it, Edwin,

the only bricks of belief in the whole of Britain.

Absurd! But so be it. Remember Bertha.

EXIT.

EDWIN: Sad Queen! But your sister is well, she says – strange!

ENTER TATA WITH A TIGHT SCARF ON. EADBALD JUMPS AND SCREAMS.

EADBALD: You cut your bloody throat!

TATA:                                  But not too badly, Eadbald!

EADBALD: You puked red vomit!

TATA:                      But the Virgin healed me.

EADBALD: It was a trick!

TATA:                        Terrible accusation!

EADBALD: Let’s have a look then!

HE RIPS OFF THE SCARF. THERE IS A THIN RED LINE.

TATA:                                  The Lord is my saviour!

EADBALD: Lipstick more like!

HE SPITS ON HIS FINGERS AND RUBS IT OFF.

EADBALD:                         Look, look, Edwin!

This is my sister! A snake, a slippery sinking sandbank!

EDWIN: Unbelievable! Unheard of! A woman, with weak understanding,

has made a fool of a man! A far as I remember

this has never happened in the whole of history!

Eadbald! Admire it! This is our adversary –

the animal whose camouflage attracts our attention –

this is a woman!

EADBALD:        I will cry out to the King!

EXIT EADBALD.

EDWIN: We two have met before.

TATA:                             Have we?

EDWIN: Where was it?

TATA:                 In a wood? A cowshed?

EDWIN: In the green sea?

TATA:                          But you see me

now for the first time.

EDWIN:            Crowning day,

that I have lost my crown to gain.

HE KNEELS AND KISSES HER HAND. SHE RAISES HIM AND KISSES HIM ON THE MOUTH.

TATA: Do you love me?

EDWIN:                                 I do.

TATA:                                          Then find me.

EXIT TATA. EDWIN STANDS CONFUSED, MAKES ONCE OR TWICE TO FOLLOW HER, REALISES THE FOOLISHNESS OF THIS, HAS A SWIG OF BEER, EXITS THE OTHER WAY. ENTER BERTHA CARRIED  IN A CHAIR, ETHELBERT BY HER.

ETHELBERT: Back to your bed, beloved, it is best.

BERTHA: Set me down here in the sunshine, stay with me, speak to me.

SILENCE.

ETHELBERT: Queen, tell me one thing, if it will not unquiet your mind.

BERTHA: Whatever you wish, it is all weight off my wings.

ETHELBERT: Why did you lie to us, learn from Liudhard

how to read books? Bertha, it would have been better

to tell the truth to us, both you and Tata.

Look now she is dead, self-doom has destroyed her,

her lies enraged a Lord – her loud brother.

Tata he would not tear down, but her teacher.

Then she, to save the monks, in a strange manner,

cut her own throat. Now this is not like Thor,

or any of the old gods. This gash she gave herself

came from confusion, I think, from confiding

in you and Liudhard only, lisping Latin,

fencing us out – her folk, her brother, her father,

causing a chasm, a crack, now her coffin.

She has vanished, lost to Christ and Virgin

and all of us. And this I do not understand:

I have control over Kent my kingdom,

but my own daughter has dived into destruction,

and my dear wife is drifting in the same direction –

everything is falling apart –

SILENCE.

BERTHA:                                We were false. Forgive us.

ETHELBERT: Yes – yes – this is simple – this is something.

BERTHA: I must lie down for a bit now.

ETHELBERT: (TO SERVANT.)     Take her to her bedroom.

EXEUNT BERTHA AND SERVANT.

ETHELBERT: All is strange, and strains my mind too hard, unless -

I have died with you and gone down into the dark, daughter.

Where are you taking me, Tata, towards what terror,

shedding the wool of this world like a sheep sheared?

ENTER EADBALD. HE IS OVER-EXCITED AND ALMOST UNABLE TO SPEAK.

EADBALD: Tata! Father! Tata! Untrue! Tata!

ETHELBERT: I know – I know –

EADBALD:                                  No, no, you know nothing!

She is alive! Laughing and leaping, the liar!

ETHELBERT: Alive, you say?

EADBALD:                           As lively as you and I!

The little liar! She led us out of the light!

ETHELBERT: I would like to look at this loaf, this risen thing –

her blood blasted my brain worse than any battle –

ENTER TATA.

EADBALD: Here is the traitor!

ETHELBERT:           Are you a ghost, Tata?

TATA: The Virgin Mary raised me.

ETHELBERT:                 I thank that veiled lady.

EADBALD: It is a lie! She drew a red line!

I washed it off with my mouth’s water!

ETHELBERT: If it is witchcraft, or else Woden,

Mary’s miracle or the mind wandering,

whatever the truth, I can touch my Tata!

HE EMBRACES HER.

ETHELBERT: Woden, I thank you, Freya, whatever –

whichever power or powers, pope, prophet or priestess,

visible or invisible, virgin or whore, I thank her,

him, them, it – air, light, heath, sea!

I was a burned-out wood, black bones,

now I am green and full of goldfinches!

EADBALD (IN DISGUST): Woden!

ETHELBERT:   Now choose to be charitable, children,

each to the other, and not think evil.

Did you really die, daughter?

TATA:                             Indeed I did, father.

ETHELBERT: I know it is true. I spoke to your ghost. But tell me,  

what made you cut your throat, unchristen yourself,

to lie outside your creed under the crossroads?

TATA: I love my mother.

ETHELBERT:          And to save the monks,

and so save her, you would throw your soul away –

TATA: A thousand times! And for you too! It is the truth!

ETHELBERT: This is the strangest thing. This is very strong.

Faith is firm but for the sake of your family

you choose everlasting fire!

EADBALD:      But she does not fight for Freya,

or any of that family – only for their foe, Christ!

ETHELBERT: She fights on both sides! False to Christ

to save the Christians! Flies like crow or raven

from world to world in a wingbeat, this young woman!

Bled she was, eyes blank – now behold her

healthy and happy as a horsefair!

But tell me Tata, speak the truth to me –

how were you raised from death, what rare thing

broke earth’s hold on your heart, kept you from hell?

TATA: My mother’s love. I was lying in the loam,

where they had laid me, waiting for the Lord to come,

cold as a cartload of cod, I could not move –

when I heard two voices on the grave’s verge, very close,

one was my mother and the other was Mary,

and they spoke, two willows in spring, soft-sighing,

Bertha saying, ‘Blow the breath back into her body!’

and Mary murmuring various misgivings.

But step by step she relented, as she realised

that death was a bear less bold than Bertha.

And then the whole of spring rushed through me suddenly

and I leapt up like a field of dandelions.

That was my mother’s love.

ETHELBERT:            No matter what you ask her,

always the same thing! Neither Mary nor Thor,

Woden nor Christ, is her law, but only love alone!

Look! This is light, this is a good lesson!

This is my daughter! Truth is her doom!

Where is my friend, where is Edwin, the wandering man?

He will like this! He must learn this, it will lift him!

Edwin!

ENTER EDWIN.

EDWIN:   I wait for your call, my Lord, always.  

ETHELBERT: Edwin! Look! Oh, listen to what I have learned!

Love! Love cut my daughter’s throat! She is alive!

EDWIN: There is no one livelier or lovelier!

ETHELBERT: You think so do you, Edwin? Woden, Freya, Thor,

I do agree! I absolutely adore her,

and can imagine that most men admire her!

My wife is dying, doom is dragging her down –

but the same cannot be said of Eadbald’s sister!

EDWIN: King, with all my soul I will call to Woden

and the gods his children, to save also your good Queen!

ETHELBERT: I know you will! You wish us well, my friend,

I feel it deep in my blood, five fathoms down!

There is magic in you, for mending our family –

Eadbald loves you as a brother.

SERVANT SIGNALS TO HIM.

                                                          Bertha is calling me.

Ah, truly I have got news to tell her!

EXIT.

TATA: Brother, be friends!

EADBALD:                             No fear, snake-sister!

Come with me, brother! I am visiting my bride-to-be,

and you can kiss her cousin and not be caught by this one!

EDWIN: I must stay here, stand by your father,

my new Lord, in case the Queen leaves him.

But we will drown in a ditch of drink after dark!

EADBALD: Brother!

EXIT.

EDWIN: Tata, why did you say to me

I have to find you? You are here.

TATA: So it appears, but I am really

in a deep wood, an old oak tree.

If you can find one in a million,

cut through the vines and set me free,

I am forever yours.

EDWIN:               Tell me

how to begin the search.

TATA:                               You say

you want to help our family.

EDWIN: I do.

TATA:      And shall I tell you how?

EDWIN: Yes.

TATA:   You know where the priestess lives?

EDWIN: I do.

TATA:     Well she has moved her place,

shifted her shrine. Once tied to Woden,

now she prefers the goddess Freya.

The secret of her new location

I will tell you, if you are willing

to visit her with a petition.

EDWIN: What must I ask her?

TATA:                    Strain your mind.

EXIT.

EDWIN: The hole in my head is my only home, the one I have hollowed out with hangovers. Through this concussed cave I wander, following red threads of desire. Tata, Tata – what are you saying to me? Clearly the King must become a Christian, to save his wife’s life – but how can I make that happen? I am not even Christian myself. Am I supposed to ask the priestess for help? The priestess of Woden? Tata, I don’t – I don’t understand –

NINE. AUGUSTINUS AND LAURENTIUS GETTING READY TO LEAVE BRITAIN. EADGYTH RUNS IN, IN A WEDDING DRESS.

EADGYTH: I have found a wife for Christ!

AUGUSTINUS:                What is this cry, Eadgyth?

EADGYTH: For wifeless Christ, I have found a willing woman!

LAURENTIUS: Eadgyth –

AUGUSTINUS:    Christ is God – will you grasp this ever?

He wants no wedding with a human woman!

EADGYTH: God married Mary, and they had the Messiah!

AUGUSTINUS: Once, in the whole of human history,

God, as the Holy Spirit, in a special way

entered the Virgin’s womb, conceived with a woman.

EADGYTH: And it could happen again! And I happily

will be Christ’s bride! Brave I am, and my soul bright!

Our child will be God, if I am chosen,

and his children will be God’s grandchildren!

Christ has to have a wife! And I am warm and willing!

Monks, you must marry us in Saint Martin’s!

I love you Jesus! Jump into my arms!

EXIT.

AUGUSTINUS: The childhood of the world is over!

Adulthood too! All that conceiving!

The world is coming to an end,

Christ, wifeless, childless, leads the world

out of the world! For God, for man,

there is no reason to have children

anymore!

LAURENTIUS: Brother, she has fluttered

into the wind, and you are teaching

no one, in Latin.

AUGUSTINUS:  It is finished.

Farewell, blind island. No one comes

now, to the field, or to Saint Martin’s,

just this unteachable madwoman.

They are too frightened. God forgive me.

Britain! I now take back the heart

I gave to you. And Rome, with shame,

will grind my soul between her stones.

LAURENTIUS: You have not failed!

AUGUSTINUS:                              It is God’s will,

saintly Laurentius. You were right,

the voice that cried, ‘You tread this road

to death,’ was true. Death of the soul

waits in this island! To stay here

is to stay willingly in hell!

LAURENTIUS: Farewell.

AUGUSTINUS:       Farewell?

LAURENTIUS:                    I am not going.

I cannot do what I forced you

to do before – retrace the road

to Rome, and face enraged Gregorius!

I will stay here and die, both body

and soul, if needs be.

AUGUSTINUS:    But our mission

Is finished! All our crowds have vanished,

no one is listening!

LAURENTIUS:    Just because

Prince Eadbald is mad!

AUGUSTINUS:      The Lords

are all behind him!

LAURENTIUS:   Not the King!

Think how his women pray for him!

AUGUSTINUS: The Princess is a witch!

LAURENTIUS:                      The Queen

might move the King at any moment,

with love – then Eadbald, the wolfman,

would be alone, and he would crumble -

and then the whole of Kent would fall

to its repentant knees!

AUGUSTINUS:      Dear brother –

LAURENTIUS: Do not leave me in hell!

AUGUSTINUS:                    Laurentius –

LAURENTIUS: Stay here, I beg you, pray with me,

for the King’s fractured family!

AUGUSTINUS GOES TO LEAVE, ALMOST LEAVES THE STAGE, TURNS, RUNS INTO LAURENTIUS’ ARMS.

TEN. SIF’S NEW SHRINE. LESS DARK, NO DEAD ANIMALS. SIF IS DECORATING IT WITH FLOWERS.

SIF: I am free of you Woden, now I belong to Freya.

Not fawns and fowl for sacrifice but flowers,

whose cut throats gush brief green, soon-gone stain.

Though these too have their laws, strict as light -

with fierce face, and fragrance, command followers,

bees, thousands, with dazed brains, slaves to brightness,

who stir in their sticky house, stacked with sweets,

humming – just like humans who hasten,

dawn-driven out of their dreams into the drizzle

to work till dark for a kiss – but it is worth it.

THERE IS A RUMBLING AS OF WAR-DRUMS.

What is that? Woden? Where are you? Woden!

SHE IS SUDDENLY SEIZED AS IF FROM BEHIND, HER HANDS BOUND LIKE EADBALD AND ETHELBERT AT THE BEGINNING.

What? Who has seized me? I am at the stake!

Just like the king and his son. It is cruel!

The flames are at my feet – aaghh! Far fiercer than flowers!

Woden, release me! I will serve – I will serve

and worship you, work for the Lord of War!

SHE IS RELEASED AND FALLS TO THE GROUND, SLOWLY PICKS HERSELF UP.

Yes, my Freya, you are fixed to Woden,

as Venus is to Mars, love is violence,

man’s desire always war in this middle world.

SHE GOES DOWNSTAGE AND REMOVES MASK; TATA WHISPERS TO AUDIENCE AS IF AFRAID OF BEING OVERHEARD.

TATA: Sif cannot escape from Woden, even though she wants to! She wants to set free Freya from her fierce father, live for love alone, but she cannot do it! Tata – little Tata has got to help her! Ah, here comes handsome. Now, Princess Ethelburga, however much you want to, don’t show him who you are!

SHE PUTS ON MASK. ENTER EDWIN.

EDWIN: Priestess, I have come with a petition!

SIF: Ah! What is it?

EDWIN:                   Well – I will – tell you –

SIF: Is the mind blank?

EDWIN:                  It is on the brink of brilliance –

SIF: First you must give an offering to Freya.

EDWIN: I have brought gold.

SIF:                            No.

EDWIN:                            What can I give then?

SIF: Are you in love?

EDWIN:                Yes!

SIF:                            Then you are allowed here.

EDWIN: Tell Freya, priestess, that my true love’s father –

too sad to think – is a follower of Thor’s family,

while his wife, her mother, is no lover of Woden

but of Christ. These two, created for each other,

are crushed to death between two creators –

two worlds in one world, whirled away from each other,

and the earth cracks and hearts fall into the chasm!

The man manages, eats meat, though half-murdered,

but the woman walks away into her own womb,

vanishing into the veins of the virgin –

it is too sad – and Tata, my love, suffers heart-torture,

and love is locked out by misery, lone magpie.

Priestess, what can I do? I am a warrior,

exile, drinker of beer, not a deep thinker,

now in love and less than ever my own leader –

SIF: Love is war.

EDWIN:         I know, and I am losing.

SIF: They must fight!

EDWIN:             Who? The mother and the father?

SIF: Christ and Woden, God’s wife Mary and Freya!

WAR!!

EDWIN: They are fighting already – the Queen, wounded,

sprawls on the battlefield, bone-white – above her,

Christ, invisible, clashes in the clouds with Freya,

Mary howls out Woden, high above hearing!

SIF: WAR ON EARTH!!

EXIT.

EDWIN: What kind of contest, Sif? Ah! I can see it!

Tata will praise me for this! I will put it to the priests!

TEN. PALACE. TATA AND ETHELBERT. A BIBLE. SHE IS TEACHING HIM TO READ.

TATA: In –

ETHELBERT: In –

TATA: P –

ETHELBERT: How can this picture of a hooped stick be ‘P’?

TATA: Why not, father? How would you form the letter?

ETHELBERT: ‘P’ is – ‘P’ would be – more – oh, ‘P’!

Alright! Let this polecat peeping out be ‘P’,

and through this old circle of oaks we will crawl to ‘O’,

and on this cropped cross without Christ we will cry –

TATA: ‘T.’

ETHELBERT: Agghhh!

TATA: That is my letter. There are two in Tata.

Father you are doing well! But come back here to the first words.

ETHELBERT: To read is not to believe.

TATA:                               That is right.

ETHELBERT: Only to follow you, far behind but faithfully,

to be where you are, share your wisdom,

or catch your cunning I should say, my clever one!

TATA: In –

ETHELBERT: In –

TATA: P –

ETHELBERT: P –

TATA: rin – cip – io –

ETHELBERT: Don’t run away into the rye, mad rabbit!

TATA: rin –

ETHELBERT: rin –

TATA: cip – io –

ETHELBERT: cip – io –

TATA: verbum

ETHELBERT: ver- bum

TATA: In principio verbum

ETHELBERT: And that means, to the Kentish man?

TATA: In the beginning was the word.

ETHELBERT:                   And the word was ‘In’.

TATA: What?

ETHELBERT: In the beginning was the word, and the word was ‘in.’

‘In’ is the first word.

TATA:           You learn fast, father, but falsely.

The word was God – that is how it goes.

ETHELBERT: God is a word?

TATA:                               Yes.

ETHELBERT:                        This is not hard to grasp.

The word speaks what was dark, breaks the mind’s dungeon,

leaps the mouth’s moat into the light, and liberty –

before God there was just a grunt and a growl,

then the beast stood up and spoke, stopped barking

and turned into a man – the word made him.

TATA: That is the truth.

ETHELBERT:            See, we are twinned by your teaching,

no war anymore between Christ and Woden,

not with these words anyway, they are weavers.

Tata – you and I were ripped into tatters,

now grown together and grafted by these word-gods!

So may it be in Britain!

TATA:               And for Queen Bertha.

ENTER EDWIN IN GREAT EXCITEMENT.

EDWIN: King!

ETHELBERT: Edwin! Friend! Have you seen Freya?

Your face is shining!

EDWIN:                       King, I shall tell you!

I went to the priestess, with prayers for your family –

and the Sibyl, with her sideways speaking,

told me, not telling me, taught me, not teaching,

this: there must be a contest, a trial by combat,

this is how it is with the Welsh, a wild wailing war,

with the King presiding! Christ against Woden’s kin

and Woden himself – on that side, one woman,

Sif! And on the other, one single man,

the monk Augustinus, representing Mary’s offspring!

Single combat, to settle forever the question!

The brothers have bravely agreed to this babel!

ETHELBERT: War? With what weapons?

EDWIN:                         Words! And whatever else each may wield

in terms of miracles, signs, visions, to smash the manacles

of disbelief in either side!

ETHELBERT:                       A debate, Edwin,

between the gods!

EDWIN:               Let theirs grab the lightning

if he can, from Thor!

TATA:                         This is good thinking!

ETHELBERT: Could it be – that Christ and Thor could be comrades,

guests at the wedding of Mary and Woden –

that I and my wife could live well together and warm,

without either forsaking their faith, their freedom –

and all of our folk, in fact, all factions –

Sif and the warriors and my son all satisfied

at the same time, and Tata, truly,

by this debate – and God and the Devil? Edwin?

EDWIN: It could, great King! That is my conclusion!

ETHELBERT: Let us go to Sif now and tempt her with this trial!

EDWIN: She will not refuse! It is her own revelation!

EXEUNT ETHELBERT AND EDWIN.

TATA, ALONE, EYES THE BIBLE.

TATA: And what will Sif say? How will she seize the victory?

No, shhh, this is a swine-ish idea! No! Surely!

SHE LEAVES, TAKING THE BIBLE.

TWELVE. AUGUSTINUS PREPARING FOR THE TRIAL.  

AUGUSTINUS: Lord of my blinkered soul, hear me!

I must fight Sif, the witch, today,

in a show trial, most probably,

a trap, the prelude to my death –

unless, great Christ, you intervene!

Oh walk across the waves of this

green hill, and take me by the hand!

HE FALLS TO HIS KNEES, HEAD BOWED, HANDS OUTSTRETCHED. AFTER AWHILE ENTER LAURENTIUS WHO TAKES HIS HANDS. AUGUSTINUS, EYES CLOSED, THINKS IT IS JESUS.

AUGUSTINUS: Oh Lord!

LAURENTIUS: No –

AUGUSTINUS OPENS HIS EYES. THEY LOOK INTO EACH OTHERS’ EYES FOR A MOMENT OR TWO.

AUGUSTINUS: There is a mountain in my mind.

Please help me up.

LAURENTIUS HELPS HIM UP.

AUGUSTINUS: Should I do this?

LAURENTIUS:                What can I say,

brother? There is no other way.

Since you last preached, it is nine days.

No people come, they are afraid.

So should we be, without these words:

Love drives out fear.

AUGUSTINUS:       Let us proceed

towards the place, and with loud plainsong

exhort the Lord to be our speaker.

ENTER EADGYTH, DANCING, EXCITED, WITH FLOWERS IN HER HAIR.

EADGYTH: I see fierce Mary in the air, fighting with Freya!

Jesus jerks her by the hair, the Jezebel!

God has got blood in his mouth, he is biting Thor!

Three in One is too many for the thunderer!

LAURENTIUS: Eadgyth, sister, hush!

AUGUSTINUS:                      What are the people saying,

tell me, Eadgyth, if you loved me ever –

those who are gathered here –is it for the old gods

that they have come, or for Jesus Christ, tell me!

EADGYTH: They are all poised on a pinhead, perilous,

tiptoe ten thousand crammed on a tiny thing,

seedhead dandelion waiting for the next wind –

north south east west, wherever it wants them!

AUGUSTINUS: And so we must proceed, each step

a leap, a hope, across a gap –

THEY CHANT AND PROCEED. ENTER ETHELBERT, EADBALD, EDWIN, BERTHA. EDWIN AND EADBALD ARE CARRYING BERTHA IN A CHAIR. EADBALD HAS HIS SWORD.

BERTHA: Take me back, changed my mind – don’t want to see Britain

struck dead, snatched mid-air like a starling –

EADBALD: Mother, there might be a miracle, the monks speak better,

batter Sif into the background, out-debated,

and all of us, Edwin, myself, my father, everyone,

jump like cats into Christ’s arms, converted!

BERTHA: It is an evil creature carrying me, a priest-killer,

out of my body he burst, the beast-man,

I am the mother of Liudhard’s death – my child his doom!

EDWIN: The Prince is sorry –

BERTHA:                   He has not said so himself.

And you – are you a devil, Edwin, to propose this duel,

or an angel sent to arrange a miracle?

EADBALD: Bit of both –

EDWIN:                   Queen Bertha, I said to myself  –

why not let light in, lift up the lid,

ease doom with debate? Is it so dangerous

to work with words towards warmth, melt winter,

as the Welsh do – and all ends well, always!

BERTHA: Between Christians, yes, wrath can end with compassion,

but peace is not possible between Christians and Pagans.

There can be no good end to this, Edwin!

EDWIN: Well still, I – look –

SHE GROANS ALOUD.

ETHELBERT:                     Queen, if you long to return,

we will take you back to your bed, poor Bertha.

BERTHA: No, I will go on, good King, I will goad my bones,

each slow foot a world of weight, but not unwilling.

And look - the brothers need me strong, and standing -

from here I will walk.

ETHELBERT:            Dear wife, I will help you.

Where is Tata?

BERTHA:              Let me totter towards her -

SHE GETS OUT OF THE CHAIR. ETHELBERT HELPS HER AND THEY EXIT. EADBALD PRODUCES A BOTTLE OF BEER, TAKES A SWIG AND PASSES IT TO EDWIN.

EADBALD: Have you shagged my sister yet?

EDWIN:                                               No – sorry –

she set me a test. I think today is my trial.

EADBALD: Do you love her?

EDWIN:                         Yes! 

EADBALD:                           Weird!

EDWIN:                                         If I can unlock her,

and win back my kingdom, and kiss her and crown her,

I will be a happy man.

EADBALD:                   And what is this hoop she has set?

EDWIN: There is something secret about her – I can see it –

so nearly – I have got to get owl eyesight!

EADBALD: It is no secret that she is a slippery slope!

EDWIN: Well I love sledging!

EADBALD:                       She is too sly, Edwin!

But look, listen to me – I will not speak long.

You want to save the brothers, brother, that is your bother,

so that Tata will love you. I want to eat their livers,

because that is the will of Woden. But I wish you well, Edwin!

And I do hope that, when they are dead, she will still desire you –

EDWIN: You don’t feel a creeping craving to be a Christian?

EADBALD: If Sif herself willed it, if that was the word of Woden,

to leave him, and love Christ, then I would convert, Edwin!

THIRTEEN. HILLTOP. MONKS CHANTING PLAINSONG. THEY ENTER AND TAKE UP THEIR STAND BEHIND A CROSS. ENTER ETHELBERT, BERTHA, EDWIN, EADBALD. SILENCE.

EDWIN: Where is Sif? She said –

SOUND OF FLUTTERING WINGS, LIKE A HUGE FLOCK OF BIRDS LANDING. EVERYONE LOOKS UP. SIF WALKS IN.

SIF: Welcome to Christ. And to Woden.

Let each side push out their power, impress the people,

let the doom of Britain be their decision,

faith of the folk their own free will,

if the King considers them just in their conclusion.

ETHELBERT: It is our will.

AUGUSTINUS:       Wait! Wait! We were called here,

to war with words, not to witness witchcraft!

We have not prepared with prayers for acts of power!

SIF: Then you may withdraw, and concede Britain to Woden.

AUGUSTINUS: We will not do that!

SIF:                                              Good!

AUGUSTINUS:                                But I wish to make known

that it was misleading, the manner of our invitation!

ETHELBERT: Words are deeds.

AUGUSTINUS:                   We will do well then.

SIF: Well then! Does anyone want to learn Woden’s wisdom?

Fine! You folk will now see the flames

that Christ will bring to Kent and to Britain!

SHE MUTTERS TO HERSELF, WALKING UP AND DOWN.

SIF: There is a traitor here! See how he treats her!

EADGYTH: Christ save me!

SIF:                         He will not save such a creature,

whose faith is foul and full of Freya!

EADGYTH’S HANDS ARE BOUND INVISIBLY BEHIND HER AND SHE STARTS TO BURN.

SIF: Hell for the heretic!

EADGYTH:                     Christ is my husband!

ETHELBERT: Spare her, Sif!

SIF:                                See, the Christians do not cry for her!

They know she is damned, the Devil her bedfellow!

Fire is justice for the foes of Jesus!

SIF BLOWS ON EADGYTH AND SHE IS RELEASED.

SIF: It is your choice, folk of Kent! Feed your children

to the fire of Christ, or keep hold of Woden!

Do you wish to be ruled by the rod of Rome?

Tithed, flogged, forced to fast on Fridays,

monks like maggots on the land’s meat, bloating,

bishops in palaces which the poor pay for,

priests on horseback, a whore in each hand,

spirits stamped out, drowned in their own springs,

gone from their glades, all gladness vanishing!

Joys all leached from life by jealous Jesus,

who gives you guilt just for getting children,

drives his nails into each delight, damns everything,

then fades away and leaves you scarcely a fantasy!

Choose now, folk of Kent –for your children.

ETHELBERT: Augustinus!

AUGUSTINUS LIFTS UP EADGYTH AND BRINGS HER FORWARD.

AUGUSTINUS: This woman was blind when she served Woden.

Christ gave her sight, and now she can see the saviour!

SIF: She was not blind.

AUGUSTINUS:               She was, believe me!

SIF: But she is now!

AUGUSTINUS:    What is this necromancy?

EADGYTH GOES BLIND, STUMBLES, AUGUSTINUS CATCHES HER.

EADGYTH: Oh save me from the dark!

ETHELBERT: Augustinus?

AUGUSTINUS HOLDS UP A BIBLE.

AUGUSTINUS: You want to see my God? This is his word!

And his word is Him. Look! Hundreds of monks,

in Italy, with insect fingers, ink-stained,

they crush the oak gall, mix it with iron and gum,

to make the marks where God speaks to man!

And they will bloom, these black roses, in Britain!

There were no books, none, in the English nation!

Now there are nine! And the monks will multiply them!

SIF: This is the doom of the book, that blinkers.

This was the gift to our King of Pope Gregorius.

SHE POURS OUT AN URN OF ASH ON THE GROUND. SHE OFFERS HANDFULS AROUND.

SIF: See the word of God! By Woden’s fire burned

to the simplicity of ash. So Sif speaks – this is my sermon!

EADBALD: Well done Sif, well done!

BERTHA:                           Now everlasting night descends!

ETHELBERT: The folk all shout for the priestess!

EADBALD:                       Pope Gregorius

will have his hands full of heads! We will send him our harvest!

HE STARTS TO GROWL AND HOWL. HE PROWLS UP AND DOWN, FEINTING AT THE MONKS.

AUGUSTINUS: I trusted in God, who gives only good,

but magic, in a moment, outdid miracles.

That is the divine will, that is God’s doing.

But let me speak one more truth! Turn, turn to each other.

Look, look long and with love, as into a deep lake!

I tell you, in truth, you are looking at the Trinity,

gazing at God. Christ is close, you can kiss him.

Look no further than the face of your neighbour.

I found God in my friend – in Britain I found him,

at the edge of death – and I am glad of this doom!

I leave you the miracle of mankind as your mirror!

EADBALD: Farewell, friends!

ETHELBERT: (TO EADBALD.) You shall not lay a finger on them!

EADBALD: Eadbald bends to your word but not Woden -

now hear him, wolfpack – warriors, this is our worktime!

HE BECKONS AS IF TO SURROUNDING WARRIORS. AUGUSTINUS AND LAURENTIUS FALL TO THEIR KNEES IN PRAYER.

ETHELBERT: Wife, you heard! I cannot fight Woden!

BERTHA: Christ have mercy!

SIF:                                People! Here there is a mystery -    

EADBALD: Bless my sword, Sif! Priestess, sweeten my blade!

SHE PUSHES HIM TO ONE SIDE.

SIF: Is there no man here who sees more than is here?

Is every man’s eye blind, every bright heart buried?

If so then death is the host here, we have no hero!

ETHELBERT: There is no help here, priestess, the Pope is in Rome!

EADBALD: Freya’s father is about to free us forever!

BERTHA: If you kill the monks you must kill your mother!

SIF: Is this the sacrifice Sif must receive? So be it.

EDWIN: Where is Tata? Tata!

SIF:                               Is true love not here?

BERTHA: She has deserted me!

SIF:                                      King! Where is your daughter?

ETHELBERT: Better she does not see the death of the brothers!

SIF: She sees it all too well! But this is Sif’s will!

EADBALD: Woden! With your one eye, watch how the war is won!

BERTHA: Tata! My love! Now I need your magic!

SIF: Is there no friend here of Freya who will fetch Tata?

EADBALD: No there is not! And so night falls on the brothers!

HE IS ABOUT TO STRIKE.

SIF: Is there no true lover here who will find -

EDWIN:                                Tata!

EDWIN STEPS FORWARD AND REMOVES SIF’S MASK.

BERTHA: Tata!

TATA:         Ah mother, no more torture!

EADBALD: Priestess!

TATA:                   No priestess, Prince, that path is lost.

Sif has released me, sunk back into the murk.

Oh thankyou, priestess! For love’s sake she has left me.

ETHELBERT: Who will guide us?

TATA:                                      Turn to Augustinus!

There is no one else. The wolf has swallowed Woden.

Follow him, if you will, into the wood, his wisdom

is now all nothing but slaver and pack and slaughter!

BERTHA: Turn to Christ!

TATA:                        That is my advice, father, King!

The old black ship has gone down, storm-shaken!

Britain will be buried in books bound by the brothers.

Reach out your hand to Rome, it is not a ruin.

And beyond, to the Emperor in Byzantium –

make friends with the Franks, who are your family –

Charibert, King of Paris, grandfather of your children –

all these speak Christ, it is a new creation,

and a new naming of all natural things

and things invisible. There will be invasion,

monks will throng to us, hive in thousands,

Christ’s tall castles cleave the clouds with their crosses –

the flames you felt will fill all the folk with fear –

but we must go through it, there is no other thread –

father believe me!

EADBALD:        I will behead you, sister!

You have killed Sif! Stolen our seer!

But Sif was you! So you have swallowed yourself,

slit your own throat for a second time, self-slicer!

Yet you are standing there, straight as a stream of fire!

Ah Sif! Are you there, sealed inside my sister?

You gave me wisdom in the wood, spoke for Woden!

And it was Tata all the time – she was my terrifier!

How is this possible? In one pod, two persons!

Shape-shifter, I have got to give you respect, for sure!

And belief! Yes! I turn to Christ! I bend!

Since in the wood now there is no one, no word -

I cast off Woden! I will be Christ’s warrior!

BERTHA: The saviour has given me back my son! Hosannah!

SHE EMBRACES HIM. HE BREAKS AWAY.

EADBALD: I will cut down Christ’s enemies, the cross my sword!
Come, ye of little faith – face me, all ye who falter,

I will hack off your heads, heathens, hell-spawn!

EXIT RUNNING. ETHELBERT KNEELS TO AUGUSTINUS.

ETHELBERT: I turn to Christ.  

BERTHA:                                  Ten thousand cry out the same!

AUGUSTINUS: I knew it! I felt in this country such faith, sleeping!

Such seeds of righteousness, under the surface,

waiting for the world to turn, end winter –

and when light floods these fields, there will be such flowers!

Then let us depart from this place of protestation,

and make a solemn procession to Saint Martin’s,

for the new birth of these believers,

both by the word and by the water.

Brother Laurentius, my Lord.

LAURENTIUS:       Are we really alive?

THEY EMBRACE, AS DO BERTHA AND ETHELBERT.

BERTHA: Tata, who are you?

TATA:                             I am Ethelburga!

THEY EMBRACE.

ETHELBERT: Priestess!

TATA:                        No more, father. Send her your best prayers!

EXEUNT ALL BUT EDWIN AND TATA.

EDWIN: There will be questions –

TATA:                         When the glow

of christening has passed, my parents

will ask how I could lie to them,

and I will say –ask Sif, apply

to her for answers, I would like

to know myself, if I could find her,

how she caught me and how she cleft me

and what is left now she has left me.

EDWIN: Where are you, Sif?

TATA:                  Well traitor, I will tell you!

I am here! Any sigh or silence can summon me

from under the silver surface, me and my sisters!

Freya in her chariot rides to the fight, furious,

tomcats her carthorses – Christ cries out, the coward!

Mary, maiden, mother mild, look at her!

She fucked four dwarves for the sake of a fashion item,

bright Brisingamen – and she screwed her brother Freyr!

But when her true-love was lost and she looked for him,

the tears she cried were gold, misers gathered them!

EDWIN: Amen!

TATA:                I have been Sif and Tata

at the same time, loved Christ and Woden,

Freya and Mary – all in me

still have their home, I am their hive!

Can you be true to all of them?

EDWIN: Of course!

TATA:                     Then let us be departing

to our baptism in Saint Martin’s.

END.