There's nowt as queer as Norfolk... - A Norfolk AAR

The Ballad of the Many Children
of Sherwyn Egstanson
An operetta in a few parts

I

Sherwyn:
"I tell you, my friend
'Tis a wonderful thing
To have children
From 'ere to 'ere."

Riaged:
"I tell you, my earl
Why, you cannot sing
Now I'm bleeding
From ear to ear."

Sherwyn:
"Of all people, you
Would let slip your pride
And join me in my
Fine libretto?"

Riaged:
"Quick! I must cover
Flee here and hide
Your singing I want
To forget-o."

II

Sherwyn:
"In the year of
1069, I
Continued my line
With the birth of a
Baby girl: Eadgyth."

Eadhild:
"I had to bear her
But I couldn't bear, oh
That night in the
Conjugal bed-ith."

Riaged:
"I'm sorry, my lady
But I am afraid-y
That rhyming was shallow
And vapid.

"I fear I have seen
Better in the latrine
On the paper that
Sits right beside it."

Eadhild:
"I'm sorry, my Riaged
I wish it were thee I wed
Oh all the things we'd
Have done in the
Marriage bed!"

Sherwyn:
"What was it, my sweetness?
When I got out my-"

Thurcytel:
"Oh please stop, my master
We're head for disaster
This is still a
Family ballad."

Sherwyn:
"Thank you, my lackey,
You're right - exactly
Now let us move to
Movement III-

"Hang on, dear Eadhild,
Have you just revealed that
You'd rather have
Married that man?"

Eadhild:
"I'm so glad you heard me
Now find the attorney
I need to end this
While I can."

[Exeunt Eadhild, pursued by a bear.]

Sherwyn:
"She's threatened before
To walk out of that door
I'm beginning to think
She is spineless."

III

Sherwyn:
"The next year, somehow
Out came another.
Our little daughter Eadgyth
Had an even lit'ler brother."

Thurcytel:
"But hang on, my lord,
I have things to report
That I think will awe
And perhaps shock the court!"

Sherwyn:
"What would it be, my
Dearest lackey? Some
News from the golfers
of Scotland, maybe?"

Thurcytel:
"It turns out that, while
It's not really your style
To have daughters,
You actually had one before you had Eadgyth,
whom you haven't really talked about.
At all actually."

Riaged:
"'Tis a truly sad thing
When the big pap'ry thing
Tied up with string
Does not translate
To this verse that you 'sing.'"

Thurcytel:
"Sorry, Riaged-"

Riaged:
"No! That will not do!
Make that verse rhyme,
Or I'll drink up your innards
With a small slice of lime."

Sherwyn:
"Enough Riaged!
Have you no shame?
Tell me, this daughter,
What is her name?"

Eadhild:
"It's Agatha-
Bloody Agatha!
Do you really forget
The name of every
Child you beget?"

Sherwyn:
"You know more than I
I don't have an eye
Or an ear for that
sort of thing."

Riaged:
"Or a mind, it would seem.
In fact, I would deem
You completely and utterly useless.

"Sod the rhyme scheme,
Sod the metre-
Some things need to be said."

IV

Sherwyn:
"It turns out I have three,
So let's move on and see
The rest of my
Wonderful progeny."

Riaged:
"I'm sorry, my lord,
But I truly abhorred
The last of your verses
And that final chord.

"To say they are
Wonderful is
Frankly pitiful
You would be lucky
To teach them to-"

Sherwyn:
"Riaged!"

Riaged:
"-at all.*I'm sorry,
Was it something I said?"

Sherwyn:
"Riaged, please don't forget-a
That this is a
Family operetta."

Riaged:
"I won't, my lord,
Though still I grow bored
For all of these rhymes
At the end of these lines
Are really incredibly poor."

Sherwyn:
"*Thank you, Riaged.*
After Osræd came Eadhild
Who wasn't particularly skilled-"

Thurcytel:
"My lord, that's unfair,
You would make
Quite a pair, and
Could both be unskilled
Together.

"You're alright with money,
But sorry, my honey,
You're crap at everything else."

Sherwyn:
"Honey?-"

Thurcytel:
"Oh did I not say,
Milord? Really, I'm gay
Milord! I've got quite a thing
For that man at the bay,
Milord."

Sherwyn:
"I'd have never've thought
That you were the sort
To go with someone
With full tackle."

Thurcytel:
"Milord, I assure you-
I don't mean to bore you-
My man has got tackle that
Really would awe you."

Riaged:
"Oh, for God's sake man!
I respect that you can
Like someone who's the same.

"But you need to end-o
Your crude innuendo
Would you do me a favour?
Refrain!"

Thurcytel:
"I'm sorry, my Riaged,
Will it be you I wed?-"

Sherwyn:
"Not until 2015."

End of Part I​

​

The Ballad of the Many Children
of Sherwyn Egstanson
An operetta in a few parts.

II

I

Sherwyn:
"When we left off we had,
And I am by no means glad-
Discovered I have children
Of whom I'm unaware.

"It's a sorry little thing-
Well, to hear me sing
Is by no means
A pleasant affair.

"Then a shocking revelation,
Of Thurcytel's orientation
Poked its little head
Around the door.

"We were all left confused-"

Riaged:
"Dazed, and bemused-"

Sherwyn:
"When he got down on one knee,
Looking up from the floor, he said-"

Thurcytel:
"Truly, my Riaged,
It'll surely be you I wed,
Think of the things we could
do in the marriage bed.

"Tell me, my honey pie,
Please don't just pass me by,
Give me your answer, just
Give me a nay or aye!"

Riaged:
"I'm sorry, dear Thurcytel,
I don't think this'll work,
And well, frankly I'd have to be
Rather berserk or ill
To even find you attractive."

[Exuent Thurcytel, pursued by a bare-chested man.]

Sherwyn:
"Well now that that's
out the way
We can get on
With the play-"

Riaged:
"Oh, please don't forget-o
This is a libretto,
You are the star of a shoddy
Operetto."

Thurcytel:
"Riaged, truly
That would be operetta,
Riaged, usu'lly
You're not one to
Forget-a.

"Is your head bruised?
Unruly? Or wet-a?"

Sherwyn:
"Why would it matter
If his soft grey matter
Had got wet?- though
If it had been swapped
With the brain of a cat-a,
Then I could see the alarm..."

Thurcytel:
"The rhyming was poor-
Though we're starting to bore,
Our audience sat in the
Theatre floor.
Shall we move on to verse two?"

II

Sherwyn:
"The next child, well
His life won't go well,
And all because of
One midwife.

"Her spelling and grammar-"

Thurcytel:
"Akin to a spanner-"

Sherwyn:
"And her intellect
Largely the same."

Riaged:
"You can talk!"

Sherwyn:
"*Thank you Riaged.*
From the day of his birth,
My fifth child's name was
The source of much mirth.

"The spelling's amiss-"

Riaged:
"She was taking the piss -
A witty joke at
Your expense.

"For you now have a son,
In the world, there's just one
Called Sh-Sh-Sh... Oh sod it
Sherwynson."

Sherwyn:
"It's a rather large shame
That he has that name-"

Riaged:
"Actually, sir, it's hilarious.
He'll never be witty,
Pretty, gregarious,

"Just the boy with a name
Quite nefarious."

Sherwyn:
"You think that's funny?"

Riaged:
"Funnier than this operetta."

Thurcytel:
"I concur."

Sherwyn:
"Thurcytel,
Stay out of this.
Thurcytel,
Go for a piss.

"This is between him and me."

Riaged:
"Sherwyn please,
Avail yourself,
Sherwyn please,
I'll kill myself

"If you don't
Get a bloody rhyming
dictionary."

Thrucytel:
"You mean the-?"

Sherwyn:
"We've had that joke before."

Eadhild:
""That joke isn't funny anymore.
It's too close to home and it's
Too near the bone.""

Sherwyn:
"Eadhild, my honey,
You like Morrissey?"

Eadhild:
"Yes. Yes I do."

[Exeunt Eadhild, pursued by nothing.]

Sherwyn:
"I think we should move
To verse three."

III

Sherwyn:
[Downtempo]
"Can we have a moment of silence please?
For this mournful tragedy.
I sing this bit with a bit of unease -
For my daughter Eadgyth is
No more.

"Pnuemonia took her-"

Thurcytel:
"New what? Besides,
I still think you got the wrong one."

Sherwyn:
"Thurcytel, what do you mean?"

Thurcytel:
"You know! The wise woman-
Short stature, big bosoms.
You asked her to kill off you-"

Sherwyn:
"I'm sorry, oh Thurcytel,
I think that you must be ill.
Why don't you have lie down?"

Thurcytel:
"I'm fi-!"

[Exeunt Thurcytel, buffaloed by Sherwyn.]

Sherwyn:
"I sought consolation
In copious copulation.
Surprisingly Eadhild obliged."

Ima De Baucher, Decency & Standards Co. (We're not solicitors.):
"Your Honour, I object,
This isn't morally correct.
I demand that you cease
And desist."

Sherwyn:
"I'm sorry, who are you?-"

Riaged:
"Prob'ly from Kathmandu
If she thinks that this
Contravenes standards.

"It's by no means the worst part
You've surely got no heart
If you interrupt him
While he's grieving."

Ima De Baucher:
"Fine, I will leave,
Make sure there's no
Debauchery-"

Riaged:
"Well, there wont be once you've gone."

[Exeunt Ima De Baucher, pursued by a barely watchable censored film.]

Sherwyn:
"Riaged, that shook me,
She just overlooked the
Rather blatant fact that
I'm grieving."

Riaged:
"Don't worry, my lord,
Your singing's abhorred.
I'd be more than obliged
To take over.

"The fruits of his 'labour'-
Well, his wife was in labour
And soon there was another
In Ælfwyn.

"Then tragedy struck
When our sp- oh fu!-"

[Exeunt Riaged, pursued by a trail of blood.]

Sherwyn:
"Language, Raiged.
Please don't forget-a
This is a fam'ly op'retta-
Besides, we haven't got there yet."

End of Part II​