The Bard’s Prologue

When the Miller had finished up his tale,

And everything which was to be was told,

All around laughed, both the young and the old.

“You’ve been brewing too much within your ale!”

Spoke up the Bard when laughter he controlled.

In his hands, his hurdy-gurdy he rolled,

Making a softly corded tune, it wailed,

Speaking as bright as any silver spoon.

“Dear Knight, this tale that you have told

Is of that rare and noble lot.

But you teach but spiritual love,

So listen to the tale I’ve got.

Miller, this tale that you have told

Is of that rare and mirthful lot.

But you teach but physical love,

So listen to the tale I’ve got.

Both of you do tell partly truth,

But neither of your tales is whole,

What you say is nor true nor false;

To learn all, my story behold.”

No one told him—he persuaded himself—to weave.

The Bard’s Tale

There lived a king, a harper too,

In time passed long ago.

His name was Orfeo and was

Content as I will show.

His rein was right, his methods just,

Bringing prosperity.

And this fair wealth was all built up

Bringing procerity.

And from upon his castle high,

Could not see his realm's edge.

Mistake me not, its loft was tall!

His realm was large, I pledge.

This lord, of whom my tale is writ,

Held all he could desire:

Power, land and a skillful muse;

What lacked, he would acquire.

Above all else, these worldly goods,

He held the fairest wife:

The beautiful Eurydice;

They had a pleasant life.

Their love was true, between these two,

And they loved their people,

And their people loved them also.

They loved, loved, and were loved.

No king nor queen was less unfair,

To their people or land.

Within their entire being,

There was no evil strand.

Nor had they foe in other crowns,

Or any neighbor land,

Perhaps nor even one mortal.

Such peace is oh so grand.

Except, of course, that be not all,

Which could perhaps breed pain.

The other side of the world’s coin,

The immortals, remain.

One day, the queen rested in shade,

The shade of her orchard.

When then awoke from like a trance,

And screamed as though tortured.

She woke, wailed loud, writhed and wriggled,

As though she were possessed.

To her king, her comfort, she told,

And then she went to rest.

She saw, she said, the king of fae,

The Fate King, Oberon.

He was, she said, on warring steed,

His army coming on.

He rode up to her in the field,

And bade that she did come

Again to that place the morrow,

As sounded the war drum.

His army full, and far they stretched,

In sun-shining armour.

No gems, no silver, gold, nor pearl,

Could match all their glamour.

His army full, and far they stretched,

In sun-shining armour.

No bell, no gong, rain, nor bolt,

Could match all their clatter.

His army full, and far they stretched,

In sun-shining armour.

No beast, no force, array, nor fort,

Could match all their power.

He told that she must here come back,

She had no choice in fact,

For if she not, then by his force,

Would her land be attacked.

He then vanished, and she awoke,

To scream as she had done.

At hearing this the king did flush

A face with rage begun.

His garb he shed and steel he donned,

“Oberon shall have none!”

Orfeo rose and roused his might,

He would not be o'er won!

His force, although not quite so large,

Not quite so grand or loud,

Had valor more than all had seen.

"Protect the queen!", they vowed.

There were so many in array,

That horses kicked up clouds,

Clouds billowed while shuffled in place,

So massive was the crowd.

Oreo and his knights stood round,

And would protect their queen.

Within that orchard they waited,

Right where the fae were seen.

But fae of Fate cannot be stopped,

And it only took one.

Oberon alone walked right up,

With back towards the sun.

The army men, they looked at him,

With questions in their eyes.

“Why does he march on us alone?

He shall meet his demise!”

But fae of Fate cannot be stopped,

And it only took one.

Oberon alone walked right up,

Before battle began.

The army men, they looked at him,

With wishes in their eyes.

Each man strived to leap and attack,

Yet stayed back with allies.

But fae of Fate cannot be stopped,

And it only took one.

Oberon alone walked right past,

Phasing as ghosts do run.

The army men, they looked at him,

Confusion in their eyes.

“Is this some devilry? Some trick?

Is this all a disguise?”

But fae of Fate cannot be stopped,

And it only took one.

Oberon alone walked right through,

Plucked the queen, and was done.

He then turned and he walked all back,

Phasing just as before.

He took the queen the way he came,

‘Till he was seen no more.

Then men who came, and came to fight,

Who to the queen they blocked,

Had just been passed right through in all!

None fought! They all were shocked!

The greatest force in a lifetime,

Which had only to act,

Were all spellbound to actionless,

Which broke their only pact.

A single being had done this,

Against that mighty force,

And they scattered as all leaves do.

You could not trace their course.

But now their lord was hurt the most,

For it had been his plan.

The greatest king, the greatest force:

Nothing against fae-men.

Drove to madness, sadness, and woe,

For loss, failure, and love,

Orfeo did self-exile,

And his steward he gloved.

A great lesson he failed to learn:

Love is not won with might.

Nor may all chevaliers hold it.

Remember this, good Knight.

In exile he long suffered,

Alone and traumatized.

His hair grew long, his harp he played,

‘Till he was once surprised.

In wilderness full long he lived.

He lived with the land beasts,

And grew wild as his surroundings,

He lived as the land beasts.

His strength did grow, that may be true,

From his harsh condition,

But as it did his mind did fall,

Without faint suspicion.

His music was all his respite,

But more sorrow it brought,

Forever since he lost his wife,

He was only distraught.

One day, as I have said, happened

Something which shocked his core.

His love and wife, and now a fae,

He saw at last once more.

Standing beside a river long,

He saw her riding there.

She was all pale, in spirit light,

And they could only stare.

The other fae, her jailer guards,

Noticed her lover too,

They left as fast as they had come

And he then did pursue.

Great steeds they rode, of pure moon-light,

And flew across the earth.

But Orfeo, alone and bare,

Ran for all of his worth.

The immortal, who live too long,

Have not a thing to lose.

Thus they always stay in their might,

They have no over-use.

But Orfeo, a mortal king,

Had everything to lose.

He's faster than he ought to be,

But timed upon a fuse.

The fearless faes ride on too slow,

And they were rather shocked,

At how a mortal was gaining,

With all his strength unlocked.

Living as beast had made him strong,

But there is not it all,

The loss of Love, and of her sight,

Is where his strength did call.

Riders tried more, to urge their beasts,

To push beyond their speed.

They feared their king, but ride feared none.

No rider do they heed.

But Orfeo did try some more,

To push beyond his speed.

Urged by lost hope and olden days,

His feet swiftly agreed.

And so he gained, gained all the while,

Their scorn left and they gawked,

Almost they feared, but then felt safe

For now his way was blocked!

The horses rode right through a rock,

But he did neither stop.

Horses laughed from the other side,

But he did neither stop.

Unswayed he ran right through the rock,

And found him in a cave.

When they saw this, they ran in fear,

This man surely was brave!

But after them he chased no more,

But slowed down to a stop.

Underground looked naught as it should,

With sky and rock top swapped!

Resting to pant, the mad-man sat,

Half exhaustion and awe.

The spirit world was what he found!

Which breaks the spatial law.

Where rock should hang he saw great blue,

A lighter sky above.

But rest he could not have for long,

Or else he’ll lose his love.

Horses had vanished far beyond,

But he had not been late.

Behind him stood closed rock-wall doors,

He’d made it through the gate.

Now all he had was his lyre,

His body, mind, and soul.

Alas for them who now live here,

Who have not these three whole.

Before him stood a blackened field,

And a great large green hill.

Upon this hill stood a castle,

So big, the clouds did fill.

As he passed through, he wonder looked,

At the lands around him.

Around there lay the dead as died,

Without head, leg, or limb.

The tricky fae housing the dead

Where known to cause their death.

To trick some mortal to their deal

And then steal their last breath.

Perhaps a ring of small mushrooms,

Perhaps an up-turned leaf,

Or sometimes whene’re so pleased

As they might cause some grief.

The souls of these they forced to dance,

To play, to jump, to muse,

Yet their bodies could not repair

From eternal abuse.

This is the way it’s always been,

And thus it shall remain,

But if in Fate you find favour

Perhaps one you may gain.

Straightway Orfeo went to throne,

And played the king a song.

The dead’s king was fond of his song,

And listened all full-long.

Orfeo played most beautiful,

No one batted an eye,

At his unwelcome presence there;

He would not leave nor die.

His captivating tune so strong,

Prevented all questions,

And allowed him to continue,

With all his intentions.

When song he sang was sung in full,

Oberon let a sigh,

“You play here yet you have not died,

Ask it and I’ll supply.”

The king offered him anything,

In return for his song,

And so he asked for his own queen,

And thought “What could go wrong?”

“Nay, I say, that I will not give!

She is too fair for you.”

And thus great harp was struck again,

And song began anew.

“Get out! I say I will not head!

Now Guards! Guide him through!”

Though king and guard enjoyed the song,

They feared what he might do.

Eurydice joined in the songs,

And paired her voice to harp,

Together made such melody

As to cut the king sharp.

She too had sorrowed all full long,

As Oberon’s new queen.

She wept so often that her tears

Could keep the castle clean.

Oberon thought she would forget

And learn to love her life,

But she did never turn to him;

A true and loyal wife.

So to appease and give her air,

She was allowed above,

To where she strode, guarded each day,

In secret search for Him.

The strength of notes the strings do lend,

Which she put voice into.

Such melody was made then there

It wavered the air through.

Of gentle patience, she did sing,

Of kindness, she did flow,

She sang of peace and of goodness,

And all virtues men know.

Stories happy and stories sad,

Did she blend with the string,

As once united with her love,

True happy queen and king.

Oberon was so struck to soul,

That he could not get up.

He could not move, nor could others,

The song did all disrupt.

It was so pure the dead did weep,

And even horses cried.

Yet when each second song was done,

Again did they provide.

Miller, now you remember this,

Beauty came from virtue.

Brave and noble was this great wife

And she was loyal too.

Again again, each new song sung,

Brokedown the king some more.

“The songs you sing move me too much!

You win, you win!” he swore.

With gentle joy the queen was won,

And they could go outside.

As they walked out, the sorrowed king,

And all, constantly cried.

If rocks had life, if trees did breath,

If spires tall, their stairs,

Castle, and great fae sky, could weep,

They too would pour their tears,

Our king, the one noble and true,

Then left out with his love,

And she, delighted, went with him,

And made their way above.

They traveled home, leaving behind

The land of death and dead

In sorrow and woe from their tales;

The fae king wept instead.

Together then they made it home,

To castle undestroyed.

The steward, lands, peoples, and all

Had still their peace enjoyed.

The steward true had held the land

Modest and with justice,

Never once was he ambitious,

Or proud like Agustus.

To test his fair, Orfeo planned,

Before himself revealed,

To demonstrate a wand’ring bard,

And tell of his own death.

A vicious beast he chanted of,

And of struggles concern.

Of blood and of torn cloth he sang;

The king would not return.

At this, the steward cried in pain,

And thus he tore his clothes,

“Alas, such is our great king’s fate,

This sorrow that none knows!”

At this king Orfeo was through,

Tormenting his true friend.

He threw off his traveler’s cloak

To bring the test to end.

Both King and Queen stood in their land,

Returned both undestroyed.

The steward, lands, peoples, and all

Were nothing but o’er joyed.

“Our king and queen, once thought both dead,

Have returned both in life!”

And so they lived the rest their days,

Without ever more strife.

“Our king and queen, once thought both dead,

Have returned both in life!”

And so they lived the rest their days,

And peaceful time was rife.

“Our king and queen, once thought both dead,

Have returned both in life!”

And so they lived the rest their days,

Happy husband and wife.