Biography
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Lucy Nordberg (playwright) is a writer and producer, and is co-founder of film production company Moving Pictures Theatre. She has recently written and co-produced Time and Tide, a trilogy of short films starring Greta Scacchi, John Locke and Samuel West. Her scripts include King Arthur, an ambitious modern take on the legend, which was performed at the Edinburgh Festival, and subsequently picked by arts impresario Richard Demarco for a large-scale production at Craigcrook Castle. Her work has also gained academic attention, including a workshop of King Arthur at the Cambridge University Shakespeare Conference. Lucy was later involved in a crosscultural production for UIBE University in China: Chinese students adapted Shakespeare’s A Midsummer Night’s Dream, with Lucy creating new blank verse for the script, which was performed in both countries. Visit the Moving Pictures Theatre website here
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Photos of King Arthur by Lucy Nordberg, part of the Edinburgh Festival (2009). Photos courtesy of Lucy Nordberg.
Texts
King Arthur (Excerpt 1) by Lucy Nordberg (2009)
(A formal garden in the Castle courtyard, the day after the Court meeting. Musicians can be heard faintly, playing inside the Castle. Lancelot enters and looks up, surprised, as Guinevere enters.)
LANCELOT.
What danger brings you out?
GUINEVERE.
Why, none.
I bring good news. Next week, the people wish
To celebrate my husband’s reign, and stage
A sacred play. Just think: the crowds will grow
Inside the town, and leave this Castle free
From Knights and servants both! Such emptiness
Should give us chance enough to meet. My maid
Has thought to go; she may afford us peace,
And if she does, I’ll send you word. Stay calm!
I’ve no more news than this.
LANCELOT.
That’s all? Thank God!
I thought—but no. Our love is safely kept
In silent confidence. We can’t predict
When spiteful minds may hit upon the truth--
Please, go back upstairs!
GUINEVERE.
Must I watch you here
And let you leave, without a loving word,
To give my mind some little memory
Of how, in peaceful, private time, we stopped
And said goodbye? Once your absence seemed
A pleasant space for dreams of future love:
But quickly fears of lasting silence grow,
And now a friendly smile is not enough
To fill my empty days with thoughts of you.
LANCELOT.
You bring to mind our lonely fate so well,
You’ve conquered me. Sit here and talk of love--
We’re forced apart too frequently.
(He touches her arm. She turns away from him.)
LANCELOT.
What’s wrong?
GUINEVERE.
I can’t forget—temptation brought me here!
LANCELOT.
Stop! What selfish doubts are these? As you fought
To change my mind, enjoy your victory,
And give me cause to think my weak resolve
Which lets you stay—be kind to me!
GUINEVERE.
I can’t!
I know the world abhors my worldly love.
LANCELOT.
Come now! Not every sight or sound should bring
Reproachful terror in—forget your guilt,
And listen well. Inside that festive hall,
Musicians play. We could despise their tune
For once it ends, the Knights will come outside;
But in that piece of music, marking time,
I hear our hopeful love ring out.
GUINEVERE.
How so?
LANCELOT.
If God dissolved the wrath which makes us man,
And let us start our lives again, re-shaped
In music’s form—oh, I could be with you,
Forever caught, entwined in lines of song,
Or words which make their dance across the page.
We’d find a unity in such a realm,
With lines of love, sung not for what we want,
But what we are. All discord, pain and hate,
Would merely represent a clash of notes
Resolved with ease in rounded harmony.
But as it is, we sing our tune and die,
Expecting no reward, except to find
Some sympathy from those who hear us sing,
And recognize our pain. We start our life
As does a violin, which moves a man
To pause in thought; but soon with over-use
That instrument grows old, and people laugh
To hear a love song played on straining strings,
And when high-reaching strands of rapid notes
Are ripped to reedy shreds of melody,
Its wooden form, which once gave greatness voice,
Is thrown aside. And so it is with us;
No matter what we do, we must decay,
While younger, fresher souls forget our names.
Oh, why did God make flesh and blood our home
Instead of sound?
GUINEVERE.
You swing from love to loss,
You count your blessings carefully, and then
Consign our hopes to nothingness!
LANCELOT.
My mind
Does change, I do admit, but ask yourself,
Is that unknown in love? Just give me time!
I’ll reach a resolution yet—I must.
GUINEVERE.
Well then, resolve to leave, and not return.
From here I see reality, and yet
Am powerless to change it. Freely say
Goodbye to me, as I can’t bear to break
Our fond allegiance. Think of how we risk
Our places here! With brave denial, go--
Decide my future path for me!
LANCELOT.
I can’t.
I’m drawn so surely back again, I’ll pass
Some little time without you, then escape
From under duty’s watchful eye, and find
My welcome here.
GUINEVERE.
But after all we’ve said--
LANCELOT.
Is saying all? What signifies a word?
Did words initiate our love? Why no;
My senses gave your soul to me!
GUINEVERE.
Perhaps you’re right.
(They kiss.)
LANCELOT.
One kiss; its closeness; this is all we are.
(Guinevere exits. The music stops.)
LANCELOT.
I argued well, composed a better line
Than she could master, calmed her fears, and so
Destroyed my own despondency—but now,
Once all opposing force has been removed,
I find my trust in hopeful love has gone!
Oh, when I reach my final resting place,
They’ll carve in stone above my grave:
‘His brave, unthinking love
Transcended all.’ Unfitting monument!
In some enlightened age they’ll tear it down,
And write instead this truth, ‘Here lies a man,
Close by the body of his friend. He thought
He loved her well, but in these times we know
How changeable we are, and how in life
We shed skins as in death, so now despite
Their seeming unity, we must assert
One mask of many loved one mask of hers.’ (He sits.)
LANCELOT.
What danger brings you out?
GUINEVERE.
Why, none.
I bring good news. Next week, the people wish
To celebrate my husband’s reign, and stage
A sacred play. Just think: the crowds will grow
Inside the town, and leave this Castle free
From Knights and servants both! Such emptiness
Should give us chance enough to meet. My maid
Has thought to go; she may afford us peace,
And if she does, I’ll send you word. Stay calm!
I’ve no more news than this.
LANCELOT.
That’s all? Thank God!
I thought—but no. Our love is safely kept
In silent confidence. We can’t predict
When spiteful minds may hit upon the truth--
Please, go back upstairs!
GUINEVERE.
Must I watch you here
And let you leave, without a loving word,
To give my mind some little memory
Of how, in peaceful, private time, we stopped
And said goodbye? Once your absence seemed
A pleasant space for dreams of future love:
But quickly fears of lasting silence grow,
And now a friendly smile is not enough
To fill my empty days with thoughts of you.
LANCELOT.
You bring to mind our lonely fate so well,
You’ve conquered me. Sit here and talk of love--
We’re forced apart too frequently.
(He touches her arm. She turns away from him.)
LANCELOT.
What’s wrong?
GUINEVERE.
I can’t forget—temptation brought me here!
LANCELOT.
Stop! What selfish doubts are these? As you fought
To change my mind, enjoy your victory,
And give me cause to think my weak resolve
Which lets you stay—be kind to me!
GUINEVERE.
I can’t!
I know the world abhors my worldly love.
LANCELOT.
Come now! Not every sight or sound should bring
Reproachful terror in—forget your guilt,
And listen well. Inside that festive hall,
Musicians play. We could despise their tune
For once it ends, the Knights will come outside;
But in that piece of music, marking time,
I hear our hopeful love ring out.
GUINEVERE.
How so?
LANCELOT.
If God dissolved the wrath which makes us man,
And let us start our lives again, re-shaped
In music’s form—oh, I could be with you,
Forever caught, entwined in lines of song,
Or words which make their dance across the page.
We’d find a unity in such a realm,
With lines of love, sung not for what we want,
But what we are. All discord, pain and hate,
Would merely represent a clash of notes
Resolved with ease in rounded harmony.
But as it is, we sing our tune and die,
Expecting no reward, except to find
Some sympathy from those who hear us sing,
And recognize our pain. We start our life
As does a violin, which moves a man
To pause in thought; but soon with over-use
That instrument grows old, and people laugh
To hear a love song played on straining strings,
And when high-reaching strands of rapid notes
Are ripped to reedy shreds of melody,
Its wooden form, which once gave greatness voice,
Is thrown aside. And so it is with us;
No matter what we do, we must decay,
While younger, fresher souls forget our names.
Oh, why did God make flesh and blood our home
Instead of sound?
GUINEVERE.
You swing from love to loss,
You count your blessings carefully, and then
Consign our hopes to nothingness!
LANCELOT.
My mind
Does change, I do admit, but ask yourself,
Is that unknown in love? Just give me time!
I’ll reach a resolution yet—I must.
GUINEVERE.
Well then, resolve to leave, and not return.
From here I see reality, and yet
Am powerless to change it. Freely say
Goodbye to me, as I can’t bear to break
Our fond allegiance. Think of how we risk
Our places here! With brave denial, go--
Decide my future path for me!
LANCELOT.
I can’t.
I’m drawn so surely back again, I’ll pass
Some little time without you, then escape
From under duty’s watchful eye, and find
My welcome here.
GUINEVERE.
But after all we’ve said--
LANCELOT.
Is saying all? What signifies a word?
Did words initiate our love? Why no;
My senses gave your soul to me!
GUINEVERE.
Perhaps you’re right.
(They kiss.)
LANCELOT.
One kiss; its closeness; this is all we are.
(Guinevere exits. The music stops.)
LANCELOT.
I argued well, composed a better line
Than she could master, calmed her fears, and so
Destroyed my own despondency—but now,
Once all opposing force has been removed,
I find my trust in hopeful love has gone!
Oh, when I reach my final resting place,
They’ll carve in stone above my grave:
‘His brave, unthinking love
Transcended all.’ Unfitting monument!
In some enlightened age they’ll tear it down,
And write instead this truth, ‘Here lies a man,
Close by the body of his friend. He thought
He loved her well, but in these times we know
How changeable we are, and how in life
We shed skins as in death, so now despite
Their seeming unity, we must assert
One mask of many loved one mask of hers.’ (He sits.)
King Arthur (Excerpt 2) by Lucy Nordberg (2009)
(Lancelot's room, late the same evening. A candle burns on the table. Guinevere is sitting on the bench. There is a knock. She hurries over to the door, unbolting it. Lancelot enters and she secures the door shut behind him)
LANCELOT.
The King refused to give his name to plans
He said were detrimental to the state.
GUINEVERE.
I'm not allowed to represent myself
Or any party in that room. I rest,
Sheltered by the Crown. Still, I keep awake.
That document is sealed; this I know,
He signed it.
LANCELOT.
Forgive me that lie;
I hoped to give us peace, and if you choose,
I'll forget my sin.
GUINEVERE.
I long to be dead,
And my sins forgotten.
LANCELOT.
Why wish for death,
When all it means is giving back the time
That's ours by chance? You try to animate
A future I can't imagine.
GUINEVERE.
We're now
Too old for this. What should decay lives on,
And grows against us like the weed that chokes
A monument from some forgotten age.
It weaves a pattern round the weathered stone,
And tightens in a wiry grip to break
The toughest walls apart.
LANCELOT.
One simple law,
A law made by a friend, is all that's wrong.
GUINEVERE.
He's still a friend? Why then he's made two laws;
The one for us, that gives us licence for our act,
And one for those who'll die to do the same.
LANCELOT.
He thinks the written law too harsh, and waits
Until it's changed. The King's above revenge.
GUINEVERE.
Are we above the King? I don't believe
This timely threat is brought about by chance.
Let's go before we're killed.
LANCELOT.
We settle here;
Or nowhere.
GUINEVERE.
Why? Our time is over here.
The priest at prayer is gentle,
But when he speaks of hearts that can't repent,
With every word comes retribution,
Punishing my mind until I cease
To think of you, and grow like a child
Afraid of the dark.
LANCELOT.
Is that what you fear?
GUINEVERE.
I cannot tell; it presses in, and waits
Until we look away, or drop our guard,
And then –
LANCELOT.
You'll die from holding out against it.
GUINEVERE.
Give me some comfort so I can forget.
LANCELOT.
You don't know what you ask. I'll breed more fear
Explaining it. We cannot face the dark:
It's far away. I've seen it when I've walked
Through villages where people live with frost and ice.
They try to break the rocks up into earth,
And use the shortest Summer for their crops,
Though they could leave that place. Their future’s sure,
Determined by the stars, and, to help their cause,
Their Gods are pacified by sacrifice.
And so, when Winter shortens days, and death
Draws in to snatch the warmth from weaker bones,
They fight against a dark they understand.
GUINEVERE.
No doubt you'll say we're better here.
LANCELOT.
There's doubt;
We've merely changed our dark. But still it waits,
And we created it.
GUINEVERE.
How?
LANCELOT.
By reason.
We took the world and broke it up to show
There's nothing in it that can shape our lives
Except our own endeavours. Our great King
Strips bare the branch and trunk to see the root,
And values not the wood that's cut away.
GUINEVERE.
Please stop. I don't know why, but now you speak
A kind of blasphemy.
LANCELOT.
I have no right
To criticize the King. I followed him
To tell the world we knew the way to live.
We explained their custom, superstition,
And so I only question my belief
As I have questioned others. I have stopped
Ambition by my thoughts, and where he leads
I no longer follow. The Court still finds
Diversion through their endless search for truth,
While I must fall behind with those that doubt.
The more we know, the less well-placed we are,
And our Enlightenment, its thought, its love,
Burns only as this candle burns, to show
The vastness of the dark that lies behind,
Where meaning has no meaning. My words die
In this, the great infinity of space,
And God Himself exists not in the stars,
But only here.
GUINEVERE.
What comfort's this?
LANCELOT.
Why none,
Except that our escape is in this room,
Where we have closed the door against the dark.
(There is the sound of approaching footsteps.)
GUINEVERE.
Don't move.
BEDWIN.
(Off-stage.) Sir?
LANCELOT.
It's only my servant. (Standing.) I'll see him outside.
GUINEVERE.
(Holding Lancelot's arm.) No, no. Think of what we've been saying. We've brought punishment on ourselves.
LANCELOT.
(Breaking her grip.) That's not possible.
(He opens the door. Kay and Gawain enter, having drawn their swords. They separate and restrain Lancelot and Guinevere. Kay puts his sword to Guinevere’s throat. Bedwin enters and ties Lancelot’s hands behind his back. Mordred enters.)
BEDWIN.
(Quietly, to Lancelot.) Sir, I'm sorry.
MORDRED.
Be quiet. Tighten the rope.
BEDWIN.
Sir--
MORDRED.
That's enough.
GAWAIN.
(To Mordred.) We have to take them away from here.
MORDRED.
Not yet.
GUINEVERE.
Did the King send you?
MORDRED.
No. Your husband, like a hawk, watches over his Kingdom and sees disturbances that occur far below him. It's up to us to regulate what happens close at hand.
(Scene continues.)
LANCELOT.
The King refused to give his name to plans
He said were detrimental to the state.
GUINEVERE.
I'm not allowed to represent myself
Or any party in that room. I rest,
Sheltered by the Crown. Still, I keep awake.
That document is sealed; this I know,
He signed it.
LANCELOT.
Forgive me that lie;
I hoped to give us peace, and if you choose,
I'll forget my sin.
GUINEVERE.
I long to be dead,
And my sins forgotten.
LANCELOT.
Why wish for death,
When all it means is giving back the time
That's ours by chance? You try to animate
A future I can't imagine.
GUINEVERE.
We're now
Too old for this. What should decay lives on,
And grows against us like the weed that chokes
A monument from some forgotten age.
It weaves a pattern round the weathered stone,
And tightens in a wiry grip to break
The toughest walls apart.
LANCELOT.
One simple law,
A law made by a friend, is all that's wrong.
GUINEVERE.
He's still a friend? Why then he's made two laws;
The one for us, that gives us licence for our act,
And one for those who'll die to do the same.
LANCELOT.
He thinks the written law too harsh, and waits
Until it's changed. The King's above revenge.
GUINEVERE.
Are we above the King? I don't believe
This timely threat is brought about by chance.
Let's go before we're killed.
LANCELOT.
We settle here;
Or nowhere.
GUINEVERE.
Why? Our time is over here.
The priest at prayer is gentle,
But when he speaks of hearts that can't repent,
With every word comes retribution,
Punishing my mind until I cease
To think of you, and grow like a child
Afraid of the dark.
LANCELOT.
Is that what you fear?
GUINEVERE.
I cannot tell; it presses in, and waits
Until we look away, or drop our guard,
And then –
LANCELOT.
You'll die from holding out against it.
GUINEVERE.
Give me some comfort so I can forget.
LANCELOT.
You don't know what you ask. I'll breed more fear
Explaining it. We cannot face the dark:
It's far away. I've seen it when I've walked
Through villages where people live with frost and ice.
They try to break the rocks up into earth,
And use the shortest Summer for their crops,
Though they could leave that place. Their future’s sure,
Determined by the stars, and, to help their cause,
Their Gods are pacified by sacrifice.
And so, when Winter shortens days, and death
Draws in to snatch the warmth from weaker bones,
They fight against a dark they understand.
GUINEVERE.
No doubt you'll say we're better here.
LANCELOT.
There's doubt;
We've merely changed our dark. But still it waits,
And we created it.
GUINEVERE.
How?
LANCELOT.
By reason.
We took the world and broke it up to show
There's nothing in it that can shape our lives
Except our own endeavours. Our great King
Strips bare the branch and trunk to see the root,
And values not the wood that's cut away.
GUINEVERE.
Please stop. I don't know why, but now you speak
A kind of blasphemy.
LANCELOT.
I have no right
To criticize the King. I followed him
To tell the world we knew the way to live.
We explained their custom, superstition,
And so I only question my belief
As I have questioned others. I have stopped
Ambition by my thoughts, and where he leads
I no longer follow. The Court still finds
Diversion through their endless search for truth,
While I must fall behind with those that doubt.
The more we know, the less well-placed we are,
And our Enlightenment, its thought, its love,
Burns only as this candle burns, to show
The vastness of the dark that lies behind,
Where meaning has no meaning. My words die
In this, the great infinity of space,
And God Himself exists not in the stars,
But only here.
GUINEVERE.
What comfort's this?
LANCELOT.
Why none,
Except that our escape is in this room,
Where we have closed the door against the dark.
(There is the sound of approaching footsteps.)
GUINEVERE.
Don't move.
BEDWIN.
(Off-stage.) Sir?
LANCELOT.
It's only my servant. (Standing.) I'll see him outside.
GUINEVERE.
(Holding Lancelot's arm.) No, no. Think of what we've been saying. We've brought punishment on ourselves.
LANCELOT.
(Breaking her grip.) That's not possible.
(He opens the door. Kay and Gawain enter, having drawn their swords. They separate and restrain Lancelot and Guinevere. Kay puts his sword to Guinevere’s throat. Bedwin enters and ties Lancelot’s hands behind his back. Mordred enters.)
BEDWIN.
(Quietly, to Lancelot.) Sir, I'm sorry.
MORDRED.
Be quiet. Tighten the rope.
BEDWIN.
Sir--
MORDRED.
That's enough.
GAWAIN.
(To Mordred.) We have to take them away from here.
MORDRED.
Not yet.
GUINEVERE.
Did the King send you?
MORDRED.
No. Your husband, like a hawk, watches over his Kingdom and sees disturbances that occur far below him. It's up to us to regulate what happens close at hand.
(Scene continues.)
Resources
King Arthur (Movie)
Lucy Nordberg
Helen Raw
Amy Russell
Jessica Winston
Lucy Nordberg
Helen Raw
Amy Russell
Jessica Winston
