Tuesday, 2 July 2013

Digression: The White Queen, Episode 2

Theeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeir father's title's Rivers Their mother gives you shivers
When Warwick's near he quivers
The Woodville fam-i-leeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee

Elizabeth: Argh! Scary coronation!
Clarence: Gosh! Top totty! Just making the point Dickon and I are nice guys, what?
Rivers: You can follow me, Warwick.
[Warwick gives look; scene shifts to abbey full of pointy-headed guards and people in rayon fantasy costumes]
Elizabeth: I am QUEEN! Why are only the extras wearing hats?
Archbishop: Here - have a crown.
Elizabeth: That's better.

Neville girls: Oh look! 'Tis the King's brothers George of Clarence and Frodo of Gloucester. Who fell off a horse.
Frodo: Yes I did. Anne, I have the hots for you as attested by scores of romantic novelists. But before we inevitably get married I have to take this ring to Mordor.
Anne: Whatever.

Edward: Bravo George! You caught an eagle! You can be Earl of Richmond instead of that mad Beaufort woman's kid.

The Wicked Margaret Beaufort of the West: HUSBAND! Get my boy his title back THIS INSTANT! And then find my witchy hat. It seems to have gone missing.
Stafford: Um, er, have a biscuit?

Warwick: I am the most powerful man in ENGLAND!
Neville girls: Then how come we can't afford carpets and wall-hangings?
Warwick: Silence, pawns.

Isabelle: Anne - now that we're alone, let me tell you the whole background to the story, using those Indonesian shadow puppet techniques I learnt on my gap year. And see? Edward the Prince of Wales is the son of THE DEVIL. And after the end of the episode everyone's going to go on Wikipedia and find out you have to marry him, so ya-boo sucks.
Anne: Gross! I'd rather marry a hunchbacked carpark attendant from Leicester!
Isabelle: Er, yeah. About that...

Margaret Beaufort (kneeling): Please O Lord make my son Henry Tudor, that's HENRY TUDOR if anyone isn't paying attention and wants to look on Wikipedia later, king. And can I have a swift one with Jasper? Pretty please? I mean, WOOF!

[Some years later... Elizabeth is wandering down a corridor with a fresh bevy of York/Woodville children, the eldest of whom is singing "I'm going to be the mother of Henery the Eight, I am/You can all google it later/You can, you caaaaaaaaaaaaan"]

Messenger: Warwick is revolting!
Elizabeth: Tell me about it! Still, no need for anyone to lose their head.
Messenger. Er, yeah. About that...

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