Roderick the Tyrant (I of XXX)
Scene opens descending camera pan overlooking a Medieval English hill with a group of Nobles and guards on horseback
Narrorator: This is the story of how the destiny of a nation was changed by a
birthmark. A royal birthmark on the royal backside of a royal
infant child. Here returning to his castle is King Roderick.
Roderick the Tyrant, who some months before seized the throne by
a massacre of the entire royal family. But uneasy lies Roderick's
crown, for rumor hath it that an infant, the rightful heir to the
throne had survived the massacre and even now is being cared for
by a group in the forest. A group led by an elusive dashing
outlaw known only as the Black Fox!
A leaf-laden tree limb is shoved aside and a figure in black shoots an arrow in the group, striking the back of a guard and de-horsing him. A second guard removes a note attached to the shaft of the arrow and reads it.
Captain of the Guard: The child lives! Death to the tyrant! The Black Fox.
Close up of King Roderick on horseback
King Roderick: The Black Fox again! To the castle, quick!
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The group of guards and nobles enters the main audience chamber led by King Roderick who storms to his throne next to his daughter, Princess Gwendolyn who is playing a harp accompanied by her hand maid, the witch Grizelda.
King Roderick:
My kingdom seething with revolt, cutthroats and assassins in
every tree! Why must I be surrounded by fools? Ravenhurst!
Ravenhurst!
Ravenhurst:
Sire!
King Roderick:
Could you have been so incompetent, bungled so horribly, as to
have permitted that child to live?
Ravenhurst:
Sire, there is no child. My men assure me that none of the royal
family escaped alive. Believe me, sire, this is nonsense.
King Roderick:
Nonsense? You call it nonsense, Ravenhurst! Is it nonsense that I
cannot ride my own domain without being murderously attacked. My
child, I came within an inch of my life.
Princess Gwendolyn:
Oh, father.
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King Roderick:
Each day, some new insurrection. Who is this Black Fox?
Ravenhurst:
Oh just some ridiculous adventurer with a handful of rabble.
Brockhurst:
Rabble today but an army tomorrow! We need help to wipe them out.
Men and arms!
Pertwee:
Aye, an alliance with our good friend Griswold of the North!
Finsdale:
Aye, alliance, and quickly! He arrives tomorrow for the great
tournament.
King Roderick:
Alliance with Griswold...
Ravenhurst:
Sire, this rabble can be crushed.
Brockhurst
Griswold has men and arms.
Ravenhurst:
We need no uncouth interloper from the North.
King Roderick:
Uncouth, yes, but Griswold is strong.
Brockhurst:
Perhaps too strong. Perhaps our friend Ravenhurst fears an
alliance would put Griswold and not himself at the King's right
hand!
Ravenhurst:
YOU SHALL DIE FOR THIS!
Brockhurst:
ONE OF US WILL!
Ravenhurst and Brockhurst cross swords and begin to duel
King Roderick:
STOP! STOP! Stop, I say!
Ravenhurst knocks Brockhurst's sword to the ground.
King Roderick:
Pick up your sword, you fool.
Ravenhurst kicks the sword into the air to Brockhurst.
Ravenhurst:
Sire!
King Roderick:
Silence!
Ravenhurst:
But sire!
King Roderick:
Silence!
Brockhurst:
Your pardon, sire.
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King Roderick:
And you, too. Must we quarrel amongst ourselves? Do you think I
could make alliance? Griswold is rich. What could I offer him?
Brockhurst:
That which he desires most in the world. Marriage, sire. With
your daughter, the fair Gwendolyn.
Princess:
Marriage with Griswold? Never!
King Roderick:
What's that you say?
Princess:
He's a brute and a lout!
King Roderick:
Brute or not, lout or not, if I so decide, you'll marry Griswold.
Princess:
I will not.
King Roderick:
I am the king. If it pleases me, you will marry Griswold.
Princess:
If it pleases you so much, you marry Griswold. When I marry, I
marry for love. Someone dashing and romantic, who will carry me
off as a princess should be carried off!
King Roderick (interrupting):
Who fills your head with this childish fiddle faddle. ah, I
know... Griselda. She of the evil eye. Take the witch out and
burn her!
Princess:
Harm one hair of her head and I throw myself from the highest
turret.
King Roderick:
Gwendolyn, you go too far!
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Trumpets sound
Messenger:
Dire news, sire! I've just come from the forest. The child lives!
King Roderick:
The child lives?!
Messenger:
Aye, sire.
King Roderick:
How know you that this is the royal child and not some outrageous
impostor?
Messenger:
Because sire, disguised as a member of their group, I saw him.
And I can assure you that like his royal ancestors, and on the
same spot as his royal ancestors, he bears the royal birthmark.
King Roderick:
The... purple pimpernel?
Messenger:
The purple pimpernel.
King Roderick:
Oh... Then why stand you here, you incompetent Jackaleds. . . To
horse! To the forest! Cut them down! Kill the infamous child who
claims to be the rightful king. And destroy forever this
traitorous fiend who calls himself The Black Fox!
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