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Phillips Anthony

Henry: Portraits From Tudor Times

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Текст песни Phillips Anthony - Henry: Portraits From Tudor Times

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I. FanfareHeralds sound the fanfare at the opening of the court of King Henryviii: a stately procession reveals lavish pageantry and splendour.II. Lutes ChorusA great feast in the Long Hall is followed by dancing and games atwhich the Master of the Revels presides; members of the "King`sMusick" accompany, and Richmond Palace glows long into the night,lighting the royal barges upon the river.III. Misty BattlementsDawn breaks on Gloucester Castle. A Knight looks out over his mistybattlements. There is talk of war with France; suddenly the almostuneasy days of peace have ended and the air is filled with excitement.Once again he will ride with his King, for the honour of England, andstrive to do valiant deeds. Once again he will trust his fate to theAlmighty and leave behind him a proud and gracious lady, anxious bothfor his speedy return and glory in the field. And yet he is sad. Asthe scarves of mist unfurl on the bare courtyard below he raises hishands to his eyes, and scans the horizon, beyond the necks of thetrees, far away over the plains, over that broad stretch of blue toFrance and all that awaits...IV. Henry Goes To War: FrancePreparation for War: The Fleet assembles. Across the fields andmeadows of Brittany. The greasing of catapults and the sharpening ofarrows: -- the Siege of Tournai. Nightfall upon the English camp: SirGuy dreams of Gloucester.The Battle of the Spurs: Dawn carnage. The crash of mace upon armourand steel upon scabbard. The English are victorious but many lie,seeing only a wide open sky...V. Death Of A Knight On The Field Of FranceThe lady rises from her spinning-wheel and approaches the window.Gazing forth from her Tower she views the pleasant verdant landscape.Beneath her, the courtyard and paddocks are deserted; beyond thegentle-sloping water and hillocks are dimming in the crepuscularlight. All is still save the occasional cries of curlews fleeing theapproaching night. She waits. No heavy voices or tramp of hooves echofrom below. Somewhere, far beyond her sight, men, deep in song andcrowned in triumph, are swarming back along dusky tracks to theirshires. A door creaks, but all remains silent, unmoving. No-one comes.With a sigh she draws the heavy folds across the awning, shutting outthe night.VI. Triumphant Return From WarHeralds` Fanfare greets the returning, victorious army; the streetsare lined with folk shouting "Cry God For Hal," eager for a glimpse oftheir bold and heroic prince.Finally, all join in Prayer and Thanksgiving in the Chapel Royal.

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