George I, the Vice-Chancellor, and Captain Morganfled dance and mix the recipe.
George I
All gathered -- perceive mine lips:
Like Adam in the garden
I answered Heaven's task
To christen its name
The ages to outlast
When first I beheld the wicked brew,
I saw Satan, and proclaimed, "Voo-doo,"
Raising to boil, over the crown,
For the venomous nectar
Were to trickle down.
We begin first with the apothecary's coin,
A pinch of tobacco I make it join,
Holy water to make the broth,
A wad of currency, will keep it soft,
We add the scrolls of collector of taxes,
To make the brew as thick as molasses,
For the ancients we shall add the pensions,
Spirits to abate their tensions,
Come, patron, mine lips apart,
Vice Chancellor
This swelling tonic heals the heart,
All
When first he held the wicked brew,
He met Lucifer, and uttered, "voo-doo,"
Raising to boil, over the crown,
For its venomous nectar
To trickle down.
Morganfled
A royal portrait makes it tasty,
As we add the net of safety
Now's a dashel of direction,
I bid entrails of mine weapon,
Astound commoners to discern-ed effects,
They'll no mind its deficits
Happy lords make happy vassals
As they grasp for golden tassels.
George I
Commix it now its spoilest plague,
A sullied cap and colours of rage.
Forget us not its ruinest plight,
A whited hood and colors of knight.
`Twas mine which saw the recipe
To hold the throne
For lords who see
Clarity with wasted eyes,
The potion, bubble, boil and rise,
Drunk despite its acrid solution,
Denial masks its toxic pollution
A covenant of ambiguous fate
But an heir, this crown,
Nevermore waits.
George II enters, followed by Amble.
George II
Mine good father,
What contrivances
Of abominable character
Has this party of thy cohorts stewed
To bequeath upon mine throne?
George I
Mine successor, approach and imbibe
Upon the pleasant concoction
That would surely color
The apothecaries green.
George II
Mine sire,
I vacillate not
In your bent
To devise a godly plan
Restoring faithfulness.
Aft the dissolute fashion of
Mine dispelled predecessor.
Vice-Chancellor.
Faith indeed, your honor,
We pray thee
Savor the magnificent broth.
George II drinks.
George I.
A fraction of patience, heir,
Accept but an instant or two
To stable the spin.
George II
I perceive no effects for
Good or naught,
Mine good father.
As I shall
Continue solely on mine
Inaugural plot for the empire.
For I mean to unlatch
The portal of the treasury
For all lords
Whose gold was taken
By the Magistrate of taxes
Under the evil command
Of mine censurable predecessor.
Guards!
Open yet the gates of the
Treasury and offer leave of ingress
To those of noble blood and proper name.
Friends: Entire script in progress...