What profits me my name?

Imaginational Dabrowski, the little Bedlington Terrier, was lazing on the couch in the lounge of Malory Tennyson’s Cloudbank Cabin for Arthurian Studies. His front paws were crossed one over the other in a decorative fashion. He was still wearing the collar of flowers he had sported at the previous day’s wedding of Jovial Janny Joiner from the Tavern to her beau, Dashing Danny Dubglas. Eyes closed and a blissful expression on his face, he was happily recalling the events of the day and envisioning a glowing future for the young couple.

The five Dabrowski Dogs were the canine writing companions of Little Plump Jo, the current Artisan in Residence in Cloudbank Cabin. Because dogs have a different hearing range, they were able to facilitate communication between Jo and the fictional dimension of Malory Tennyson and the characters from the Arthurian epic who performed re-enactments of the legends in the Fog Lake at the foot of the cabin.

Jo had recently considered that she might use the pen name L.P. J. White because the stories she was producing seemed to be a cross between the Arthurian fiction The Once and Future King by T.H. White and the talking animals of Charlotte’s Web by E.B. White.

Intellectual Dabrowski was supervising his mistress, as she wrote about the experience of attending the wedding. Jo thought the notes could be useful when she came to write of weddings in the Arthurian legends. Intellectual, however, was much more concerned with getting Jo to write about how these community events illustrated the levels of social class in the Fog Lake. It was his contention that the Tavern Folk had become a new Middle Class since the Names and Backstories Protest March. He found the concept of seeing a new social class arise and develop quite fascinating.

Sensual Dabrowski was still tucked up in his dog basket, recovering from the overstimulation of all the sights, sounds, smells and ‘vibes’ of the wedding. He had ditched his flower garland early in the wedding proceedings when it caused him to scratch his neck raw. Jo would have to wait till he woke to write descriptive paragraphs about the wedding feast.

Psycho Motor Dabrowski and Emotional Dabrowski were both out on the porch of Cloudbank Cabin ready for the start of the Trial by Combat Land Dispute which Sir Lancelot du Lac was about to fight on behalf of King Bagdemagus. They were supposed to notify Jo when the bout was beginning.

Emotional noted that some extra Health and Safety measures had been adopted for this event. The boulders and rocks, which had showered down into the arena during The Glitch in the Fog Lake, had been pushed aside using Merlin’s invention, The Sisyphus Rock Pusher.

And although the script for this event did not usually require the presence of a litter, there was a fully equipped and freshly serviced litter drawn up on the sidelines. Malory Tennyson was clearly not taking risks, after what had happened when The Glitch hit during Sir Lancelot du Lac’s Trial by Combat with Sir Mador de la Porte. On that occasion, as the litter was not usually required, it was being serviced and Sir Lancelot had almost died before the litter arrived.

A great shout went up from the crowd gathered around the Fog Lake arena and Psycho Motor came bounding into Cloudbank Cabin, followed by Emotional.

“Are they ready to start?” asked Jo.

“No, they have finished!” barked Psycho Motor. “It was over in three sword strokes. Flick, flick, knocked the sword out of the opponent’s hand and had the point of his sword at the opponent’s throat, receiving the yielding!”

“So, who won?”

“Sir Lancelot, of course! He could have done it with one hand tied behind his back. Wouldn’t you love to be Sir Lancelot!”

“I know Malory Tennyson would.”

“So I am guessing that Baggy Someone and King Arthur will jointly host a big feast tonight to celebrate?”

“Yes. It was a Land Dispute on behalf of King Bagdemagus; but King Bagdemagus holds fealty to King Arthur, so they both have cause to celebrate.”

“You should have let us know it was starting. I need to write about it. What happened afterwards? What was the mood like? Was Sir Lancelot excited to have won?”

“Not really” said Emotional. “I think the opponent was just relieved that he had faced Sir Lancelot and survived. And Sir Lancelot just shrugged his shoulders and paced off to his quarters. He just looked bored if anything.”

Malory Tennyson strode in. “Have you finished writing up the wedding and the Trial by Combat yet, LPJ?”

“ Well, no. I am waiting for Sensual to wake up and help me with descriptions of the wedding feast and I didn’t even get to see the Trial by Combat. Thanks a lot, Psycho!”

“It was wonderful, wasn’t it, Psycho!” enthused Malory. “That was a new record time for fastest claim of a yielding.”

Malory Tennyson and Psycho Motor Dabrowski proceeded to give Little Plump Jo the equivalent of a slow-motion replay of the fight, with much whooping and high fiving.

Sir Bors de Ganis, Sir Lancelot’s cousin, looked in. “Lance is an apology for the feast tonight.”

“Why?”

“He is always a bit flat after a match like that, where his opponent is clearly not worthy of the encounter. And his mood is often affected for a few days after one of his episodes. But I think it might be more this time. He is saying things like

For what am I? what profits me my name

Of greatest knight? I fought for it, and have it:

Pleasure to have it, none; to lose it, pain;

Now grown a part of me: but what use in it?

Tennyson, Lancelot and Elaine

“That sounds like Existential Depression to me” intoned Intellectual Dabrowski. “See Dr. James T. Webb’s book Searching for Meaning: Idealism, Bright Minds, Disillusionment and Hope published by Great Potential Press or for a quick 6 minute read, try his article Existential Depression in Gifted Individuals.”

“He just needs a sense of purpose. Tell him his presence is required. Old Baggy D is a decent enough chap; but his son, Meliagrance, is a sleazy character and he was eyeing off Lady Guinevere.”

Thurifer Dwarf the Exwyrminator was not at all sympathetic to Lancelot’s mood or state of mind. “Oh, boohoo for the upper class! ‘E wouldn’t ride in my cart because it might spoil ‘is precious reputation. Spoilt rotten - that’s what ‘e is; what wiv ‘is brazen greaves and fancy shields sent by the Lady of the Lake; and being blessed in the waters of the Sacred Lake.”

“Not a blessing! It was a near drowning when he was an infant” said Sir Bors hotly.

“I’m just saying the ‘du Lac’ name gives ‘im privileges what other people don’t ‘ave.”

“I’ll tell you who is really gaining profit from having a name and that is the Tavern folk” said Dagonet the Jester. “The Nouveau Named, I call them. Since the Names and Backstories Protest March, they now have names and are claiming relationship to royalty and nobles and lords of the manor. They all seem to have found a rich uncle! And they can name-drop for references to get better jobs. You probably noticed how lavish the wedding feast was.

The Nouveau Names are wanting better facilities. Some expressed that, apart from the Royal Box we do not have any covered viewing areas for our Fog Lake arena. They don’t want to stand out in the mud like the No Names. And they want entertainment before the combat bouts.”

“So, I was thinking we should put up some covered, tiered seating to allow a better view of the arena.”

“And who is going to pay for that?”

“It could come out of taxes. There are more people who have to pay taxes now. When the arena is not being used for combats or jousts or tournaments, we could have entertainment. I mean Glastonbury has their Comedy and Stonehenge has their Theatre in the Round; why couldn’t we have Fog Lake Festivals? The Nouveau Names would spend good money to go to those.”

“Yeah, I’m wiv you!” chimed in Thurifer Dwarf. “It would give more opportunities for minstrels and jugglers and jongleurs. Why should only royalty ‘ave entertainment?”

“Exactly. Those Tavern Folk really know how to have fun! And now they have a nice bit of income to book entertainers for their events. I performed at Janny’ and Danny’s wedding and it was a great night. They danced and sang and whistled all evening like they didn’t have a care in the world.”

“Record that, Little Plump Jo” barked Intellectual Dabrowski “Compare happiness levels between social classes and add a reference to the song What do the simple folk do? from Camelot The Musical Act 2.”