Event Report: Aaron and Rustique’s Coronation (2001)

On the Coronation of Aaron and Rustique

By Mahualt van der Eych


I pray you all gyue your audience
And here this matter will reuerence,
That of our lyues and endynge shewes
How transytory we be all our dayes.

Of pale and ghostly be our beloued Kynge,
Summer glorie passed in laue and courage,
Layed upon his brow his tarnyshed crowne,
With noble Qwen, fade as floure in Maye.

To Greyfells, by the water's edge,
Travelled divers and loyal subjects,
To honoure he who, wyth glorious myte,
Commanded Ealdormere.

Kynge Roak bade welcome us,
Wyth kynde and open wyse,
Qwen Carlotta, most beauteous still,
Face coloured full faire, did us greet.

"Behold my fine bolde knyghttys,
Strong of martial countenance,
In mine aged descent, did offer me great soulace,
And stood mighty, fierce at war."

With Lords of his lygeaunce, with justicez and gentle laurels,
Did Kynge Roak honoure Lady Helen of Greyfells,
And did give unto her a Laurel,
For wyseste and worthyest and wyghteste of hanndes.

Greate honoure awarded was that daye,
And great thankys gyven to divers vertuus nobles. 1
Many were the joyous faces turnd to baske,
Radiant glory shone from Roak and beauteous Carlotta.

Pall and ghastly saddnys many harts did fyll
For all our Kynges strength and blod soon stood still,
Greyf struck Carlotta, wept cold tears that daye,
By gracious mercy our Qwen too was swept away. 2

The empty crown, cold and byter thing,
Upon the thrown of Ealdormere did poorly laye,
Till Aaron, noble kinsman of our Kynge
Did rightly honour and destiny fullfyl. 3

Rustique, his noble lady and Qwen,
Fairest flour but on the field growes,
Shall graece the newe wrought
Throne of Ealdormere. 4

For thyr glory and joye,
Gentill knyghttes to tourney did go,
And wyth reuerence and ryotte all,
Bravely dysplayed the might of  Ealdormere.

To Kynges Towne did we small troupe salle,
For merriement and sweetmeats did we set forthe,
Thorfinna, wyth her ayxe in hande,
Did many a Celtic dauncer meete. 5

A gloryous feaste was layed afore us,
Manye and divers dishys did we devoure,
Wyth myrthe and wyth melodye of mynstrals noble,
My lord and I stuft fyt to burst seams.

I thankee for thine audience,
And here this matter anon will end,
Know that of our lyues and endyngs shewes,
How transytory we be all daye.

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Colyne’s Annotations to Mahault’s most excellent verse:

Halfdan Blackanvil was made a Court Baron.

Due to a pact made at Pennsic, Roak had to make a blood sacrifice to sustain our land, and was burned in a wicker man.

Rustique approached the Thrones, where she found a frog. Upon kissing it Aaron appeared in a cloud of smoke.

New Thrones have been crafted by Dusty’s most talented Lady (her name unknown to me).

A group of us went hunting for ice cream and found ourselves in the middle of a Celtic street festival.