Bard building new play based on bawdy bedrooms at Balmoral and Buckingham
Over the last few nights I have been visited by the ghost of William Shakespeare.
On the third night, I followed him onto the deck and the ghost spoke:
“I am thy famed bard’s spirit, doom’d for a certain term to walk the night till the foul crimes done in these days are burnt and purged away.”
What the blank is going on? I thought.
“I am forbid to tell the secrets of my prison-house. I could a tale unfold whose lightest word would harrow up thy soul.”
Holy smokes, the guy wanted to “tell all” the dirt from the Elizabethan era.
“Awesome,” I said. “Let me get my digital recorder and capture this. I’ll be an instant Shakespearean scholar!”
“No! you dit!” Shakespeare’s ghost exclaimed.
“Revenge her foul and most unnatural murder.”
“Who’s murder,” I asked.
“Murder most foul; but this most foul, strange and unnatural.”
“Murder? Who? Why foul” me asked.
“I find thee duller than the fat weed…the murder of the Princess by the most seeming-virtuous Queen!”
OMG, he was not talking Hamlet, or Lady Macbeth or even the wicked Dickie II. Shakespeare was telling me to avenge the death of Lady Di.
“Forget that,” said I “I’m no Prince nor was meant to be. Get your own revenge.”
But the Ghost wasn’t talking about sword play. The pen is mightier than the sword. The Ghost wanted me to write a play.
Over the next few hours he laid out the plot, most hideous, how the Queen, who he kept referring to as Praying Mantis, held a secret desire to eliminate all those who got in her Royal way.
According the the Ghost, the Queen hated Lady Di. She secretly plotted with MI-5 to hound Lady Di and her Egyptian Prince to an early grave.
It seemed like some parts of the plot were pulled from Anthony and Cleopatra and Julius Caesar.
The Ghost gave me great sub-plots to develop like the inability of the Queen’s siblings and children to have healthy marriages when she meddled in them.
“Think Princess Margaret and Fergie,” he intoned sonorously.
“That adulterate beast,” he fumed about Prince Charles, “with witchcraft of his wit, with traitorous gifts, that have the power so to seduce!–won to his shameful lust.”
“O, horrible! If thou hast nature in thee, write this down and make a killing in royalties,” said the Ghost getting the wind in his sails, as it were.
“The DVD sales alone will keep your grandchildren rich.”
“How come you didn’t write a play about Henry VIII or Elizabeth I,” I asked.
“Fare thee well at once! Adieu, remember me.”
And with that the Ghost of Shakespeare disappeared somewhere between the lilac bush and the crab apple tree.
“Remember me!” My head was swimming with the realization my youth had been squandered and here was something of value to write, a royal Mommy Dearest.
“Remember thee! Yea, from the table of my memory I’ll wipe away all trivial records, all books, all pressures past, that youth and observation copied there; and thy commandment all alone shall live to write the play Elizabeth.”
Or not, considering Queens take a dim view to plays that hoist her petards.
This satire is a parody based and freely quotes from Shakespeare’s Hamlet and is intended for humorous purposes only.