ÿþ<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Transitional//EN" "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-transitional.dtd"> <html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml"> <html> <head> <META NAME="Author" CONTENT="Thomas Francis Noonan"> <META NAME="Key Words" CONTENT="King Arthur, Guenevier, Round Table, Celtic Britain, Celtic Lore"> <title>Begorrah and Aghora</title> <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=iso-8859-1" /><style type="text/css"> <!-- body { background-image: url(begorrah_bg.gif); } --> </style></head> <body bgcolor="00ff00" background="begorrah_bg.gif" text="808000" link=00ff00" vlink="#000080" fontface="Garamond, CharterBT,Georgia, Verdana" font size="3" font-weight="extra-bold" basefont size=+1> <table border=0 width=100%> <TR> <TD WIDTH="10%"><img src="spacer.gif" width=100 height=1> </TD> <TD width="70%"><p><img src="ARTH1BAN.GIF" width=541 height=42> <p> <STRONG> (for the Muses, ever-present, as always)<br> --"To redeem all sorrows<br> That ever I have felt..."<br> William Shakespeare,<STRONG> King Lear,</STRONG> V,iii<br> <p> <blockquote> (Historical note: Celtic Britain, according to Gildas, in his "The Ruin of Britain," circa 550 A.D.,<br> around the time of the legendary King Arthur's death, was beset by the mysterious <br>Plague of the Yellow Beast Vapors and subject to rule by a succession of petty tyrannos...)<br> </blockquote> <p> <img src="ARTH_EXC.GIF" width=442 height=319 align=middle> <p> <img src="ARTHUR_N.GIF" width=36 height=40">ow hear ye a tale sad and bitter,<br> of Camelaut's glory long ago;<br> as it waned good Queen Gueneviere<br> through treachery was laid low...<br> <p> Her love for her great-hearted King<br> Arthur fine and pure indeed; <br> her noble heart giving rise to action as she beheld <br> their lands, newly-joined, fall prey to envy...(of even the King's steed!)<br> <p> Master White Horse, as his warrior stallion was called,<br> guided our good king through twelve battles quite fierce;<br> as they "glutted black ravens" and vanquished the invading "hang-dogs,"<br> Arthur protected by the Shield of Madonna, which no spear could pierce<br> <p> Four battles alone fought along the icy Black Stream<br> sheltering the barbarous Saxons of invading Colgrin;<br> that infernal puer and his Cold Grin of Death ravishing the lands,<br>as he pooh-poohed the "boy-King" Arthur with,<i> What, he'll kick me in the shin?</i><br> <p> Hollow words indeed when reed-thin (yet tall) Arthur thwarted the little beast--<br> Colgrin claiming somehow that Britain was responsible for his Continent's woes;<br> upon counsel Arthur permitted Colgrin safe departure, yet when the foolish "swine-devil" relanded <br>down the coast, they were promptly routed, Arthur smiting 400 other foes...<br> <p> <center><img src="GOLD_BAR.GIF" width=126 height=259 align=middle></center> <p> Good King Arthur's great deeds in service to his people(s)<br> culminating most Christ-like at the Battle of Mount;<br> the Shroud as his raiment, his Shield bearing the Cross three war-long days...<br> (leading poor Gueneviere to bemoan, years later, "How is it that feat does not count?)<br> <p> <center><img src="RYL_KISS.GIF" width=308 height=468 align=middle></center> <p> <img src="ARTHUR_S.GIF" width=36 height=40">till, for now, look upon our hero, mired knee-deep in mud,<br> far away from his dear sweet Queen, as he defends the homeland;<br> clashing with such River Styx-cold barbarians--the Season of fading light,<br> his warriors having such difficulties making a stand...<br> <p> At home, a short while back, Camelaut of the Round had become besieged,<br> from without and within, as emissaries from Rome arrived all purple-clad--<br> as garishly offensive to Arthur's emerald-green court as their demands,<br> to which he'd scoffed, <i>Tribute to Lucius, your "Emperor"? Why you must be mad!</i>...<br> <p> You see, unbeknownst to Arthur, a collaboration was in the works-- due to Merdrawt,<br> the cunningly forged off-spring of Morgan Le Fay, that <i>she-devil witch</i>,<br> as both claimed relationship to Arthur, the orphaned King, and pretended to be his friend<br> (saving him, understand, from Gueneviere, whom they 'd termed, "the stuck-up bitch")<br> <p> Not only to Lucius but too the Saxons had spoiled little Merdrawt turned--<br> <i>ala</i> that previous usurper, Vortigern of the Repulsive Lips,<br> again promising these mercenaries prime lands<br> and "plenty of loot and whores for your fleets of ships"<br> <p> When Arthur's druid scouts gave warning he set out for Dover,<br> determined to repel the invaders before their landing<br> (remembering, too, how he'd bested their Plague of Preciousness as a lad,<br> having vowed to never again let <i>interlopers</i> have any standing...)<br> <p> Yet against our good king, in league with Merdrawt, were many brutes--<br> this brat, no true nephew like Gawain, but a <i>false accuser</i>, more like the <i>Antichrist</i> himself;<br> most irksome was his sidekick, an over-grown lunk, Dagonet, whom Arthur'd termed <i>The Fool</i>,<br> at times a "jester" most melodramatically servile, but in no ways a mere "elf"...<br> <p> Somehow this crescent-eyed, pasty-face knave<br> had knock-kneed his way upon Merlin the Druid's secret cottage;<br> the sacred texts discrediting Merantorio's alchemy thus pirated,<br> as the Fool loosed ghastly black magick "<i>mish</i>-takes" he swore he'd fix <i>inna smidge</i>.<br> <p> In conjunction with Merdrawt and Le Fay the covetous witch,<br> this <i>shifty-footed</i> Fool turned sorcerer--just a wannabe druid,<br> under tutelage of Kundrie the crone as he played with <i>potions and powders and spellcastings</i>,<br> supposing, <i>If I can just find dat right fluid</i>...<br> <p> So, with Arthur afield and not able to set all straight,<br> his true sweet Gueneviere was completely at a loss,<br> not able to end this plague loosed by the snot-nosed Fool--<br> as he spread ignorance throughout the Kingdom with his Judas-like dross...<br> <p> Arthur's trusted knight Lancelot, left to protect the Queen,<br> thought to assist, yet the Fool <i>posed</i> such a problem--no warrior, but a hump-backed <i>geek</i>,<br> vicious as a cur when terrorizing the farmers at field,<br> then, at the Court, dissembling himself as most humble and meek.<br> <p> <center><img src="ARTHR_SD.GIF" width=32 height=32 align=middle></center> <p> <img src="ARTHUR_N.GIF" width=36 height=40>ow, with the people(s) conjoined sinking into the Fool's cosmic muck,<br> "Sir" Merdrawt, the connivingly forged <i>off-spring</i>,<br> invented a devilish parody mirroring the Round Table--<br> too, an ingenious scenario to <i>cuckold the King!</i>...<br> <p> Those of Heaven's Round Table saw the sacred circle mocked--<br> as Camelaut, through obeisance to Merdrawt's <i>Over-lords of the Directions,</i> fell prey to <i>Lucifer</i>;<br> Lugh's pure Light turned quagmires ill-lit, Camelaut and her people turned parodies,<br> as those true still could only pray for the return of Arthur.<br> <p> Through Cabal and other canine warrior-scouts,<br> thus fortunate Arthur learned the whole treacherous plan;<br> all knew not to question as they double-marched home--as an enraged<br> Arthur told Merdrawt, <i>Now you'll learn the measure of this man!</i><br> <p> And too the mealy-mouthed Fool's deceit had managed to convince the "common voice"<br> that Arthur's dear Queen was actually a fake;<br> high and low swore to the <i>falseness</i> of Gueneviere as a <i>black-magick-enchantress</i>,<br> <i>You see,</i> the Fool lisped, <i>the real Queen's in hiding, this one's a snake</i> ...<br> <p> Merdrawt in his perfidiousness had indeed been busy--<br> not content with his brazen theft of Sovereignty's Round Table,<br> he had all swear to Arthur's dear sweet Queen's <i>infidelity</i>...<br> <i>Why</i>, said one churl, <i>wid me own eyes I once seen her do it with Cabal!</i><br> <p> <i>Preposterous!</i> thundered Arthur, when told all this lunacy--perplexed as well by this Kult <br> of Kundrie, as all toasted these hellish, joyless "Overlords" in a sad new <i>Wasteland</i>;<br> drinking strange brews (too bitter) that mudsucked one as further rape of Sovereignty--<br> Arthur left fuming as to how he'd defend his good Queen, <i>Why, there I'll make my last stand</i>...<br> <p> Refusing to believe that Guenevier and Lancelot had betrayed him,<br> Arthur, at dinner table, found himself alone against drawn swords one night;<br> Merdrawt, the witch Le Fay and the Fool, through wolfish cunning,<br> put Arthur at such disadvantage he yielded without a fight.<br> <p> Then, enroute to conference, the Fool grew brash--<br> prancingly nervous, he struck with brandished sword the captive King on back of head;<br> Arthur was sent tumbling, the knaves dragged him to the dungeon then seized open his mouth,<br> pouring in Kundrie's <i>potions</i> and readying a lookalike in his Queen's stead.<br> <p> Despite this induced groggy daze, Arthur awoke in full-eyed rage--<br> paying scant attention to the phony Queen's (no Fair White Apparition) confession of lusty sin,<br> yet wary and aware of black-cloaked Le Fay, the dagger-eyed coven of haggardly-bent crones,<br> mumbling spellcastings in search of his <i>secrets</i> that made his head <i>pound with din</i>...<br> <p> While treason most <i>foul</i> thus dimmed fair Camelaut,<br> Lancelot, good Queen Gueneviere and loyal (too) Gawain took flight;<br> Bedevier and Lucan the Butler were left to keep watch,<br> discreet as can be 'till Gawain regrouped the Warrior Circle under cover of night.<br> <p> Though Gawain found the country gloomy and war torn with strife,<br> Arthur's true knights joined back up, as Gawain's dire predictions weighed heavily on all;<br> together again they sped back towards Edinburgh, Camelaut's Winter Seat, in such haste<br> that Merdrawt--tipped off, took flight, seeing the handwriting on the wall.<br> <p> As Arthur was freed he was told grave news--<br> to the south the Saxons, with doltish Visigoths as <i>muscle</i>, had been striking at will;<br> Merdrawt's collaboration having corrupted so-called nobles,<br> as Colgrin's accursed <i>malaise</i> again was making his people so ill...<br> <p> With word coming from Lancelot and Gueneviere that they were now safe,<br> Arthur assembled the Warrior Circle and those still loyal;<br> in grim terse tones he organized an expedition,<br> proving, once again, his love for his people most royal.<br> <p> Seeking to cut off the invader's provisions at the source, the expedition set out for the coast--<br> Arthur raising a fleet, readying his ship Prydwen, then crossing the sea;<br> mid-voyage one storm-tossed night gave rise to a dream most strange,<br> himself a huge fiery dragon giving fight...<i>How can that be me!</i><br> <p> Pendragon the Mighty, his father Uther's lineage, swooping from Heaven,<br> laying talons to the tallowed back of a weasel-eyed bear;<br> then, with a great lift of beating wings, throwing the fatted bulk<br> to the <i>sea-beasts</i> of deep...<i>There, now see how you fare!</i><br> <p> Thus encouraged Arthur awoke at first light,<br> his foresight of the Saxons a mere transition to Lucius and Rome;<br> this early mood more usual as he brimmed with mirth--downplaying, too, the long trek ahead,<br> shouting, <i>We'll reclaim our throne, then just as quickly march home!</i><br> <p> Setting forth in France, the shape-shifter Menw and the other scouts<br> quickly spotted the Saxons encamped--standards of Roman legions, and others, too:<br> Saracens of Mongolian suits of mail, the rulers and armies of Libya, Ethiopia...<br> ogres huger than Visigoths, one-eyed giants with monstrous heads most purplishly-blue...<br> <p> Emboldened by his vision the night before in battle Arthur was most brave,<br> as he chopped an ogre off at the knees, saying, "You bare-legged churl!<br> Now you're more of a size!"... (Then beheading the brute).<br> Wheeling Master White Horse about, Arthur next chose to give Lucius a whirl...<br> <p> Though pike-armed the bodyguard proved no match,<br> as Arthur drew a lance thrust to his left cheek,<br> before Caliburn his broadsword struck quick to the ruler's helmet,<br> shattering tiara and skull alike in a mighty blow--making even the giant's knees weak.<br> <p> Perhaps thus inspired, pretty boy Galeheut dashed through the Saracens--<br> spilling the brains of the Libyan leader with one blow;<br> thus Galeheut struck awe and terror all the way to Paris,<br> where, with Arthur <i>et al</i>, he sipped the finest wines...(all enemies laid low).<br> <p> The Warriors of the Sacred Circle now marched straight into Rome,<br> word having gone before they were given the Key to the City, as all bowed down;<br> Arthur's true title as Emperor thus reclaimed--<br> and, more importantly, his beloved Celts <i>never again to be misjudged as clown</i>...<br> <p> Still, as they turned weary heads towards home none could know<br> what dark treachery lay yet in store;<br> Merdrawt the treasonous brat had indeed been bitten with ambition,<br> this taste of power in Arthur's absence having induced <i>craving</i> for more.<br> <p> Letters were drawn up as if they came from the Continent,<br> reporting Arthur dead in battle and Lancelot now a "turncoat";<br> flunkies were dispatched far and wide through the lands announcing the end of "Arthur's strife,"<br> then contrasted with Kundrie <i>et al's</i> coven--a <i>new deal</i> of "joy and bliss" (schmirking in <i>full gloat</i>)<br> <p> At Canterbury Merdrawt's "parliament" of stooges crowned the brat "king,"<br> and he, certain the "common voice" deceived, began a "fifteen day glut";<br> when word of Arthur's imminent return reached Merdrawt he cackled,<br> <i>Not to worry, we'll oppose him at Dover and tell him the how's of his Queen the slut</i>...<br> <p> <center><img src="ARTHR_SD.GIF" width=32 height=32 align=middle></center> <p> <img src="ARTHUR_N.GIF" width=36 height=40">ow see how Arthur was made a mere foil for that foul wretch Merdrawt,<br> who burned with hate about Guenevier (Arthur's joy and bliss);<br> Merdrawt, too, managed to slander Arthur's good true friend Sir Lancelot,<br> as the brat claimed that Lancelot had fallen prey to the <i>snake-bitch-queen's</i> every <i>hiss</i>.<br> <p> To greet Arthur upon his return landing at Dover,<br> Merdrawt assembled many cohorts to oppose;<br> though the cool calm fury of Arthur disembarking slew "barons and nobles" alike,<br> as Arthur's knights, too, with great courage, each repelled droves.<br> <p> Beaten back, Merdrawt and his remnants took flight to Barham Down...As Arthur,<br> scanning the meadow left ruined, found Gawain, his true nephew, of whom he was most proud;<br> in great haste Arthur stumbled across many other friends laying wounded or dead--<br> then our Arthur, "the most famous knight in the worlds," finally wept long and loud...<br> <p> Further search turned up wounded knights in nearby towns,<br> along the way in trailing that coward Merdrawt to Canterbury;<br> to each knight thus found he worked "soft salves" into the wounds,<br> humming soothing bardic hymns, assuring each, <i>Why, there's no hurry...</i><br> <p> Called to council at Salisbury by the seaside,<br> a severe and stern Arthur refused Merdrawt's <i>cockatrice</i> overtures;<br> as war the Monday after Trinity Sunday was agreed upon by all--<br> then Arthur, departing, intoned, "Now you'll pay for calling my Queen a <i>hoo-uer</i>..."<br> <p> Come Trinity Sunday, that night gave rise to another wondrous dream:<br> Arthur astride a throne, beneath a Great Wheel;<br> teeming below was "hideous deep black water,' with "all manner of serpents<br> and worms, wild beasts, and most foul and horrible," some deformed <i>snail-eel</i>.<br> <p> Upon billows of cloud shimmered Gawain, all around him radiant Ladies,<br> "By the grace of their great prayer," said he,<br> "and my righteous quarrels on their behalf, through leave of God, I must say:<br> to battle you must await good Lancelot--without him your death is a certainty"...<br> <p> <center><img src="ARTHR_SD.GIF" width=32 height=32 align=middle></center> <p> <img src="ARTHUR_U.GIF" width=36 height=40>nbeknownst to Arthur his dear Queen Guenevier had the same dream,<br> as she, in the Tower of London, besieged by the machiavel Le Fay, was about to fall;<br> so she urged pure Lancelot to speed through the night to join Arthur,<br> taking enough knights with him to ensure, as they'd sworn, <i>Justice for all!</i>...<br> <p> The next day at the treaty meeting Arthur was wisely astute--<br> as he'd been told by his tracking scouts he face 100,000, a "grim host";<br> Arthur thus conceded Cornwall and Kent, and (after his death) "all England" too--<br> thinking the deal a bargain, thanking Heaven for his true nephew's ghost.<br> <p> Yet the blackness of Merdrawt's being lusted after far more than a treaty--<br> per plan, he had a minion loose an adder, and, as it bit one of Arthur's knights,<br> swords drew all around, "beamons trumpets" were sounded far and wide...<br> With gloomy dismay Arthur saw there was nothing left but <i>to fight</i>...<br> <p> In battle, as the war horses grew mired in blood and mud, many were slew...<br> Late in the day, Arthur stood nearly alone;<br> left with just Lucan the Butler, his brother Bedevier, both "full sore wounded"--<br> twas then Merdrawt finally rode forth (his drawn sword all shiny and freshly honed)<br> <p> Catching sight of the pasty-faced puff of Merdrawt's cheeks,<br> Arthur rode full bore--seeking to end "this wicked day of destiny" he struck<br> straight to the heart with his cured-ash lance (suffering a head wound<br> from Merdrawt's blade, but ending the accursed usurper's luck).<br> <p> From over a crest of hill Lancelot and knights then arrived to assist...Charging afresh,<br> despite having ridden through the night, they laid waste to what remained;<br> when Lancelot distinguished Arthur lying wounded he spurred his steed to him,<br> easing his King's pain with, "Good Sir, each eve your true Queen's pillow is tear-stained..."<br> <p> Lancelot's warriors gathered the injured--many wandering, crying like children.<br> Camp was made while Lancelot healed Arthur and the others most brave;<br> Arthur drifted between Life and Death, trying to <i>rise and save my Queen</i>,<br> muttering, too, "Humph, at least now Merdrawt's exposed as a knave..."<br> <p> <center><img src="ARTHR_SD.GIF" width=32 height=32 align=middle></center> <p> <img src="ARTHUR_O.GIF" width=36 height=40>n the third morning Arthur arose as if nothing amiss.<br> Though greatly bloodied, he mounted Master White Horse as if to head home;<br> when Lancelot and all discovered his absence they gave chase--to Merdrawt's <br> annexed castle, from whose gate flew Le Fay--<i>Medusa!</i> turning Arthur's heart <i>to stone</i>...<br> <p> "You're too late Arthur!" the alchemically-befouled hag screeched,<br> "Your sweetness is gone!" Faint from the blood loss Arthur fell,<br> toppled from Master White Horse, as Le Fay and entourage flew...<br> Then, as Arthur gained height, his spirit collapsed...<i>Why that she-beast from Hell...</i><br> <p> A few farmers faithful still gathered around, saying, Good King take heart--<br> Le Fay and her knaves threw poor Queen Gueneviere into the Pit"<br> (an earthen tomb filled with imported snakes, an invention of Merdrawt's,<br> of which Arthur'd heard, cursing <i>Just like the spoiled little shit</i>).<br> <p> Unable to bear the sight of Gueneviere's lifeless form,<br> he staggered towards the Castle's gate, glaring at all in <i>full fury</i>;<br> tossing his ruby and pearl-ringed battle helmet behind, he spat an Eternal Curse,<br> <i>come to your rescue? Why, of course, not to worry...</i><br> <p> Lancelot arriving had witnessed the fearful news,<br> and he too slumped to the ground, all overcome with grief;<br> Arthur turned to his dear friend, said, "Nothing can we do,<br> yet you must accompany me...I've one more task 'ere I seek relief..."<br> <p> Together they journeyed back to Edinburgh, Winter Seat of Camelaut,<br> and rode to the Springs of Mystery, the Lake of the Oak Grove--where both prayed<br> that God be merciful on Gueneviere, their good true Queen,<br> and, too, through the Fair Lady of the Lake, a special peace be made...<br> <p> Then Arthur drew Caliburn one last time, and knelt, bended knee,<br> touching the begrimed and nicked blade to his bowed, furrowed-brow head;<br> rising, with a mighty heave, he tossed the great broadsword far,<br> swearing <i>Never again</i> would he fight for another, a vow he kept until dead...<br> <p> Splaying end over end the sword flew far--then was snatched, suddenly, mid-air<br> by a long white arm and smooth hand surging forth from ripples on the Lake;<br> as mysteriously as her hand appeared all vanished beneath--<i>still</i>, save rustlings of leaves...<br> Then Arthur told his good friend, <i>All done now, from here your own way must you make.</i><br> <p> <blockquote><img src="HORSES.GIF" width=113 height=111></blockquote> <p> <img src="ARTHUR_T.GIF" width=36 height=40>hough this tale happened long ago, some from the Olde Land declare to this day<br> that Arthur, great and gloomy, still roams, muttering, through the countryside,<br> thundering again at the weasel-eyed knaves, <i>Do you know who I am!</i><br> Eternally a question, <i>aye, one for all times</i>, in which all must abide...<br> <p> <blockquote><img src="GOLDLACE.GIF" width=535 height=46 align=middle></blockquote> <p> <blockquote> [Some material, in quotes, comes from <i>Le morte d'Arthur</i>, by Sir Thomas Malory,<br> additional story material from Geoffrey of Monmouth; research from the aforementioned Gildas, <br>along with the <i>Book of Leinster, the Book of Invasions</i> (Celts have been invaded, <br>though, until recently, never successfully, more times than any other culture<br> in History), <i>the Black Book of Carmarthan, the Vita Gildae, Coutes <br>Ossiaiques,</i> by R. Chauvre, <br><i>Celtic Folklore</i> by John Rhys, the substantial works of R.S. Loomis, and, <br>last but not least,the court lore of Eleanor of Aquitaine and Marie de Champagne...<br> (Historical Note: the Celts/Irish had an unbroken succession of <i>righs</i> (after the Indo-Vedic <br><i> rig</i>, warrior-king, of 2500 years...longer that any culture known to History<br> --including the Anglo-Saxon current "royalty"; most likely due to the ancient habit of training, <br>a young whelp to be <i>righ</i> by sending him, dressed as a tinker, <i>sans</i> might of power,<br> and , possessions, from one end of the realm to the other, with only the dependence on the <br>kindness of his people...<br> T.F.N., written 1993-4,<br> original revision 5/16/94, updates 12/6-10/96;12/8/97] </blockquote><p> <p> <img src="ADEATH.JPG" width=640 height=485> <blockquote>John Mullaster Carrick's <i>Morte de Arthur</i> (1862) </blockquote> </TD> </TR> </TABLE> </body> </html>