“Clowns to the left of me, jokers to the right, I’m stuck in the middle with you Nora,” sang the Manager.
The Archbishop rose to his feet. “Gentlemen, these two ladies I claim to be witches, with magical powers beyond what we have ever seen to date. Have no fear we are men of the church and their powers are of no use against us. Lady Catherine of Ontario has pledged to disclose to me who they are and why they have come to the Kingdom of King Henry VIII. On hearing their stories it will be my learned friends that will determine their faith. Burned as witches, their evil powers cast to ashes or set free.”
“Sounds like they are planning a BBQ for the lads. I think we might be fecked,” said Nora.
“Your eminence, may I start to explain to you who we are and the precious land we have travelled from, only to be mistaken for witches. I, lady Catherine of Ontario and my friend lady Nora of Monaghan have travelled for over one year and eighty days. Travelling across lands and oceans and dealing with pirates and vagabonds, who stole our gold and most of our gifts, leaving us for dead. Dressed only like peasants you found us resting at some old shed. This contraception you see before you is a gift from our great Doc, Lord Higgins of Navan.
We travelled here to bring good news, to your King Henry VIII. We have heard that your King is in grave mourning within his heart, and this day he has no more love for his wife. You, your eminence and good learned men present in this court, seem to understand nothing of the ladies of your lands. We have studied the love of thy self, counselling in marriage and the ways of the female that will support bringing about new thinking for your Queen Catherine of Aragon. This in turn will only please the King and put you Archbishop in great favour with his majesty.”
“Nice one Manager. Did you ever thing of taking up acting?” asked Nora. Nora then joined in the explanation “Yes, we have studied feminism. We have burnt our bras’. Lady Catherine is right, once we have an old natter with the Queen, you Mr. Archbishop Cranmer will be the dog’s Bollox with the King Henry VIII. I think we have them on our side Manager”
“How do you know of our king’s troubles and his unhappiness in marriage?” asked the Archbishop.
“Well we know he is fed up with the Queen of Aragon or should I call her the ‘Queen of she’s gone’. We know the King is mad to get it on with some lady-in waiting, ‘called Anne what’s her face’. Oh! Yes Boleyn that’s her name, ” replied Nora.
“What are these strange words of ‘get it on’ with reference out great King,” asked the Archbishop.
“Your eminence, what Lady Nora is saying is that we as women understand such things. That the King may wish to bed another in the future. Who in time will provide him with an heir to rule in his kingdom,” replied the Manager.
“You seem a much learned Lady,” replied the Archbishop. There is wisdom in your words. How do we know these issues of our King and that you are true in what you say. Not a witch that could cast a spell over our King?”
“I know you are aware of the King’s dilemma and his trouble with Rome, your Archbishop. But if you allow both Lady Nora and I, we feel we can bring sense to this matter and cast you in much more favourable light with your King.”
This needs more investigation. I will open the discussion to the floor for questions from my good men of the holy church,” replied the Archbishop.
“Here we go a bunch of feckin’ men dressed in skirts with pointy hats, going to ask us questions,” said Nora. “Let’s blind them with science and baffle them with bullshit for the craic.”
To be continued……
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