April 21st 1231. It is an early evening in Hammershus, Bornholm. It is a grey and empty chamber with barrels still in the background. A chair is in the centre with a small table. A lantern is on the table.
Enter WIZLAW sitting on chair
WIZLAW: Rügen, Rügen, Rügen. I have fail'd my homeland. Sure, the battle was won but we just have to wait 'til those murderers attack again and breed more dissent 'n' harm. [he takes out a dagger] Sweden lost their Princess because of my negligence. I have lost two sons and a daughter.... This dagger which I hold before myself is a demonic tool. It lusts for blood and destruction of individuals. Its desires are ought to be fulfilled.
Enter HARALD
[he hides the dagger] Harald, is that thou?
HARALD: Aye, 'tis indeed me. By any degree, is thy condition improving?
WIZLAW: A wound unless maimed, naturally improves itself.
HARALD: Are thy wounds maimed?
WIZLAW: Internally.
HARALD: What about externally?
WIZLAW: I suffer'd no wounds in that skirmish.
HARALD: That was no skirmish that ye fought in. 'Twas a full operation of two militaries.
[a raven caws outside]
Thou dost look pale... fragile... sick.
WIZLAW: I am as I always am.
HARALD: Dost thou not require a doctor?
WIZLAW: Look, Harald. I thank thee for thy help and that thou allow'd me to stay 'ere. Thou is my only friend left after the cataclysm. Without thee, I would have nowhere to lodge. Thankee.
HARALD: Well, 'tis the least that I am able to do for thee. My servants are 'bout to finish preparing the dining hall for supper. Wilt thy presence join us?
WIZLAW: Spiritually.
HARALD: If thou changes thy mind, thou knows where we will be.
[Exit HARALD
[a foul and eerie ring/sound is heard]
WIZLAW: Ah! That sound! It pains my ears. Every day I hear't.
Enter THREE MONKS slowly approaching WIZLAW
Who-who are ye? Answer. Answer me, I implore. Satan's tools! Creatures of the Inferno! Fiends! Imps! Grunts! Nightmares! Hounds of Hell!
[THREE MONKS surround him]
Speak! I order ye....
THREE MONKS: Non sumus procuratores Diaboli. Dei procuratores non sumus. Procuratores humanitatis sumus.
WIZLAW: What do ye say? I not undestand this foul language of the unknown!
[THREE MONKS present their palms]
No! Ye are not. Ye can't be. Ye are summoning the cerberuses of the place where there are gnashing of teeth. [he takes out the dagger] Stay far! With this weapon of thine I shall demolish ye!
THREE MONKS: Quid vis nocere qui non laedunt?
WIZLAW: Thine spells will not poison my valley'd brains!
[WIZLAW charges at THREE MONKS but feels weak and falls]
Ow! Thine curses... they hath wounded my skin. God of Abraham, Svetovit, Chernoglav and Rugiaevit! Prithee. Help, protect, heal.
[lights turn off]
[he stands up] Darkness! Help! Ho, Harald! Bornholm! Valdemar! Help! Ye demons stay back! I have a dagger. Ah!
THREE MONKS: Dixitque Deus fiat lux.
[Exeunt THREE MONKS
[lights turn on]
WIZLAW: These cacodemons left at last after that spell of light and dark. [he looks at invisible figures] O! I see my wife, her sister, my children.
[he goes to hug them but falls]
Another damn'd apparition! I weep. I can't live through and with this curse.
[a low drum sounds]
[singing dully and in lament:] Avenge them, avenge them.
O, my wife,
Thou wert a fair lady
Whom I lov'd.
Guilt engulfs my heart,
Failure swallows my mind.
My descendents I could not protect:
Lucia, Jaroslaw, Petrus
All slain like lamb.
Avenge them, avenge them.
O! I shall.
These curs'd demons stole my mind.
Helena lies among her sister,
All this came from my hand.
This dagger which I hold before me,
'Twas present with me
It laid in my hands on that dreadful day,
This is a point of no return.
My gods shall not shield me no more,
The only way to rid of th'vermin
Is by this blade.
The blood of my person shall spill.
Avenge, avenge.
O I am doomed.
Vengeance is for fools.
[WIZLAW stop singing and a buisine sounds]
This call play'd at Rügen's battle over Rugard. En-voy. Died. Farewell, goodbye, adieu.
[WIZLAW raises dagger and stabs himself]
[he breathes heavily and coughs] Ah, these creatures take pleasure from my pain.
Enter THREE MONKS & BISHOP
[he cries and groans in pain] No, they came for me at my most feeble moment. [he tries to crawl away]
MONK 1: Miseret te.
MONK 2: Oro pro vobis.
MONK 3: Et memor ero tui.
BISHOP: They pity, pray and remember thee. Wizlaw, thou wert a man of honour. I know not if thou will join thy kin, but I know thou left a great legacy for Rügen and the world. Thou wert bound to do more, however thou died prematurely. May thou rest in peace.
THREE MONKS: Ita consentimus.
WIZLAW: [weakly:] Ye are just hallucinations. Damned to be in Hell I am. Learn from my mistakes. Adieu. [he dies]
[Exeunt
Fin.
YOU ARE READING
The Tragic Fall Of Wizlaw, The Count Of Rügen
Historical FictionRügen is once again on high alert. Rumours of attacks and exclusion heighten the tensions on the isle. Personal issues merge with politics and blood is fated to be shed. The innocent will be the greatest victims and a great figure shall descend into...
