Set the chairs in a double-row boat shape
Need queues for waves to start and stop
Queues for thunder along with those?
Pass out Lifesavers during pre-rit
Conch shell with storm sounds
We're casting off!
Earth (mother) - mgg
Land under the oceans
On board ship, moving out into too-calm sea. Preparing self, batten down
our mission: to bring the well out to be blessed
on the ship's deck, feel the breeze starting
sea getting rougher
prepare ourselves get sea legs, rock with the boat embrace
it, don't fight it, come along for the ride. Can always use your lifesaver
Navigator names bodies of waters
Gates sea movement and storm sounds start slow and build
Prospero enters THROUGH
Each element (rain, thunder, waves) stops as he orders them to
"Waves cease thy crash and calm thine 'plash, spray calm
and still thy furious spatter! Thunder!
Dissonant, unmelodious wrecker!
I conjure! Rest in great Jupiter's palm.
Rain! Your falling here
is most unmeet, stay
In thy heavenly home. For no mean ship
Of castaways this, no. These come to tryst,
to dance, to chant, to seek great season's play.
For what else could
drive e'en the brave to force
Their way through storm most unnatural? They
Come to find the storm's heart here and meet he
Who calls the wind, forces the waves to sport
The white caps they
wear so jauntily. They
Come with purpose, and would not find it neat
To simply tell, no, they would wish even I
to guess. So I ask now: Are you with me?
Let me tell you of your
host before I
Guess at your purpose here. Your host, I,
Was once Duke of Milan. You know, the town.
But he cared more for books, for libraries,
Than for governance.
So into garrets
He fled, his library dukedom enough.
Enter his brother, Alonso, prideful
And reaching, who wished to turn all Milan,
Both serf and noble,
to him. This worked, yes.
Through propaganda and treachery he
Won hearts and minds, and opened the gates
Of fairest Milan to ancestral foes.
But to devious Alonso's
Chagrin, loyal Gonzalo did secret
A rude boat to carry my daughter and
I to the safety of this secret isle.
Here I have released
the sprite Ariel
From the prison of its hoary old Oak.
The spawn of Sycorax, Caliban, is
My servant upon this isle. Do you yet
Know me? Not Trystero
I, nor a bound
Houdini (though my escapes are grand). The one
Whose aid you seek is Prospero, And if
As you seek, you find, reply: Are you with me?
So there is your host.
Now what for you? What
Deeds and schemes might from safe harbors draw you
In such a storm as the one we have this
day? Now let me see. Ah! And so it is:
You have reasons three.
First to honor the
Gods, as noble a reason as any.
Second, to mark winter's passage to spring.
Third, a working for which tis I you call.
Manannan MacLir is he
you will see
Around here. Noble prankster! Fine foster sire!
Lord of the Isle of Man and ruler of
The North waves and seas: He who guides sailors
Into port, and leads
the dead to their place
In the sun! Manannan of Tuatha
Is the one worth braving the storm to praise!
If you should agree, reply: Are you with me?
Now each year, at this
time, when our Lady
Persephone climbs from her darkling vault
And Mother Demeter raises her cowl
From the frozen earth, allowing once more
The trees to burst into
leaf and the grass
To raise its verdant crown to heaven, you
Venture down to the sea to seek blessings.
Why? The ocean is a pit of corruption.
Metal left at its edge
rusts to rot in
A time not measured in years. Wood is gnaw'd
And clawed by both critters and salt. Drinking
Its waters spells doom for the thirsty man.
Yet did we not--as baser
From the muck here in our species' birth? Do
We not set out upon it on the quest
For vittles to fill our hungry frames? Yes.
Yet the arms of the
storm reach out and claw
Down the very boats which set out to wrest
Fish from its icy grip, reach out and smash
The cities where these fishermen dwell. Yet,
From this storm, which
unleashes such vi'lence
Upon the sea, other gentler rains are born,
showers that fall upon your homes and lands,
And cause the buds of yonder flowers to fill
And burst as the season
of spring doth reach
Its peak. Should this storm be not born neither would
Blossom the posies of thy tables, nor
The wheat in thine fields. A spring lacking such
Tempests would no spring
rightly be A'tall.
Ee'n the wind, which tears down tree and branch, doth
Allow light to reach the new growth. So then,
In praise of stormy seas: Are you with me?
And last, then, you
set out to where the storms
Are born, here to the violent nursery
Seeking to use what you find to help bless
The well - feeding the source of all waters
With the source of all
storms. And - yes - I see
There will be a blessing of the tools also,
Filling implements of creation with
Strength from the Cradle of Storms. A nervy
Trip, yet one worth
the risk. For could the fire
Not burn us as we draw strength from it? Could
the earth not slide and shake beneath us as
We take food from it? Uncertainty rules,
Yet you reach out and
Grasp it with both hands.
Good! With great risks come rewards, and the Gods
Smile brightly on those with gusto. So then:
For blessings sought bravely: Are you with me?
Then - and picture as
thy will, for in this
I require help: I feel Land beneath
me! I see stormy Sea before me! I
feel Sky above me! Let this land be a
Gate! Let this Sea be a Gate! Let this Sky
be a Gate! And let the Gates be open!
Outsiders Ed (Pat)
"Pity poor Caliban.
This islands mine, which he took from me.
When they first came, he stroked me and made much of me,
taught me how to name the sun and moon,
and then I loved him,
and I showed him all the qualities of the island:
the fresh springs, brine pits, the barren places and the fertile.
Cursed be that I did so!
For now I am all the subject that he has.
I, who was my own king,
I am chained to this hard reservation
and kept from the rest of the island.
Titans, Giants, Fomori,
Gunga Din and Tonto,
Picts and ragged Celts too;
sometimes the outsiders are only the ones who were here first.
Master? Please pour a cup of water for your servant?
(Goes to the boundary woods to pour offering, shouts:)
You taught me your language,
and MY only profit from it
is I know how to curse!
Outsiders, please accept our offering."
All hail, great master! Grave sir, hail!
I come to answer thy best pleasure.
Whether to fly, to swim, to dive into the fire,
to ride on the curled clouds
Comes Ariel in all his quality.
Welcome, Ariel, spirit fair.
Now that you are in my hair
If you would be so kind
To fill these people's minds
With grandeur and inspire
so one day you may retire
Think no more on it, sir,
For these potent rhymes I'll lure
From these base-line empty heads
snatches of songs and dreaming's shreds
They will praise you well and long
And fortify your ego strong
My Ariel, dear, that is thy charge.
Then to the winds be free
and stay you at large.
(Ariel's 1st lines: Almost totally Shakespeare
Man, Ariel: by Hillary
Manannan's last lines: mixed Shakespeare and Hillary)
Nature Spirits Monika
Sea movement and storm sounds build
Manannan enters through the sea
storms sounds reach crescendo
"What are you trying to find?
I don't care. I'm not kind.
I have bludgeoned your sailors.
I have spat out their keepsakes."
"I have bedimmed The noontide sun,
called forth the mutinous winds,
And 'twixt the green sea and the azured vault
Set roaring war; to the dread rattling thunder
Have I given fire, and rifted Jove's stout oak
With his own bolt; the strong-based promontory
I Have made shake, and by the roots plucked up
The pine and cedar; graves at my command
Have waked their sleepers, opened, and let them forth.
Be so my potent art."
( First lines: from "The Ocean" by Dar Williams Second lines:
Come and speak
Also bring up water and put into the well
Well blessing Prospero and Manannan gather energy of
group and focus it into the well, into the ground, into the ocean
all water remembers the ocean, and all water longs to return
Omen (3 open seer-suckers)
Crane bag with ogham
Pour and pass out waters
Tool blessing Prospero
Jen leads Manannan song and waves
Prospero moves use WELL energy, not ALEX energy!
Thanks yous and close the gates