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Camelot (stage)
I Wonder What the King is Doing Tonight
The Simple Joys of Maidenhood
Camelot
Follow Me
C'est Moi
The Lusty Month of May
Then You May Take Me To the Fair
How To Handle a Woman
Before I Gaze At You Again
If Ever I Would Leave You
The Seven Deadly Virtues
What Do the Simple Folk Do?
Fie On Goodness!
I Loved You Once in Silence
Guenevere
Camelot (Reprise)
I Wonder What the King is Doing Tonight ]
ARTHUR:
I know what my people are thinking tonight,
As home through the shadows they wander.
Ev'ryone smiling in secret delight,
They stare at the castle and ponder.
Whenever the wind blows this way,
You can almost hear ev'ryone say:
I wonder what the king is doing tonight?
What merriment is the king pursuing tonight?
The candles at the court, they never burned as bright.
I wonder what the king is up to tonight?
How goes the final hour
As he sees his bridal bower
Being regally and legally prepared?
Well, I'll tell you what the king is doing tonight:
He's scared! He's scared!
You mean that a king who fought a dragon,
Hacked him in two and fixed his wagon,
Goes to be wed in terror and distress?
Yes!
A warrior who's so calm in battle
Even his armor doesn't rattle
Faces a woman petrified with fright?
Right!
You mean that appalling clamoring
That sounds like a blacksmith hammering
Is merely the banging of his royal knees?
Please!
You wonder what the king is wishing tonight?
He's wishing he were in Scotland fishing tonight!
What occupies his time while waiting for the bride?
He's searching high and low for some place to hide.
And oh, the expectation,
The sublime anticipation
He must feel about the wedding night to come.
Well, I'll tell you what the king is feeling tonight:
He's numb!
He shakes!
He quails! He quakes!
And that's what the king is doing tonight.
The Simple Joys of Maidenhood [ Top ]
GUENEVERE:
St. Genevieve, St. Genevieve,
It's Guenevere!
Remember me?
St. Genevieve, St. Genevieve,
I'm over here
Beneath this tree.
You know how faithful and devout I am,
You must admit I've always been a lamb,
But Genevieve, St. Genevieve--
I won't obey you anymore.
You've gone a bit too far!
I won't be bid and bargained for
Like beads at a bazaar.
St. Genevieve, I've run away,
Eluded them and fled,
And from now on, I intend to pray
To someone else instead!
Oh Genevieve, St. Genevieve,
Where were you when my youth was sold?
Dear Genevieve, sweet Genevieve,
Shan't I be young before I'm old?
Where are the simple joys of maidenhood?
Where are all those adoring, daring boys?
Where's the youth pining so for me
He leaps to death in woe for me?
Oh, where are a maiden's simple joys?
Shan't I have the normal life a maiden should?
Shall I never be rescued in the wood?
Shall two knights never tilt for me
And let their blood be spilt for me?
Oh, where are the simple joys of maidenhood?
Shall I not be on a pedestal,
Worshipped and competed for?
Not be carried off, or better still,
Cause a little war?
Where are the simple joys of maidenhood?
Are those dear gentle pleasures gone for good?
Shall a feud not begin for me?
Shall kith not kill their kin for me?
Oh, where are the trivial joys,
Harmless convivial joys,
Where are the simple joys of maidenhood?
Camelot [ Top ]
ARTHUR:
It's true! It's true! The crown has made it clear.
The climate must be perfect all the year.
A law was made a distant moon ago here:
July and August cannot be too hot.
And there's a legal limit to the snow here
In Camelot.
The winter is forbidden till December
And exits March the second on the dot.
By order, summer lingers through September
In Camelot.
Camelot! Camelot!
I know it sounds a bit bizarre,
But in Camelot, Camelot
That's how conditions are.
The rain may never fall till after sundown.
By eight, the morning fog must disappear.
In short, there's simply not
A more congenial spot
For happily-ever-aftering than here
In Camelot.
Camelot! Camelot!
I know it gives a person pause,
But in Camelot, Camelot
Those are the legal laws.
The snow may never slush upon the hillside.
By nine p.m. the moonlight must appear.
In short, there's simply not
A more congenial spot
For happily-ever-aftering than here
In Camelot.
Follow Me [ Top ]
NIMUE:
Far from day, far from night,
Out of time, out of sight,
In between earth and sea,
We shall fly; follow me.
Dry the rain, warm the snow;
Where the winds never go
Follow me, follow me, follow me
To a cave by a sapphire shore
Where we'll walk through an emerald door,
And for thousands of breathless evermores my life you shall be.
Only you, only I,
World farewell, world goodbye.
To our home 'neath the sea
We shall fly; follow me.
Follow me, follow me, follow me.
C'est Moi [ Top ]
LANCELOT:
Camelot! Camelot!
In far-off France I heard your call.
Camelot! Camelot!
And here am I to give my all.
I know in my soul what you expect of me,
And all that and more I shall be.
A knight of the Table Round should be invincible,
Suceed where a less fantastic man would fail.
Climb a wall no one else can climb,
Cleave a dragon in record time,
Swim a moat in a coat of heavy iron mail.
No matter the pain, he ought to be unwinceable,
Impossible deeds should be his daily fare.
But where in the world
Is there in the world
A man so *extraordinaire*?
C'est moi! C'est moi, I'm forced to admit.
'Tis I, I humbly reply.
That mortal who
These marvels can do,
C'est moi, c'est moi, 'tis I.
I've never lost
In battle or game;
I'm simply the best by far.
When swords are crossed
'Tis always the same:
One blow and au revoir!
C'est moi! C'est moi! So adm'rably fit!
A French Prometheus unbound.
And here I stand, with valour untold,
Exeption'ly brave, amazingly bold,
To serve at the Table Round!
The soul of a knight should be a thing remarkable,
His heart and his mind as pure as morning dew.
With a will and a self-restraint
That's the envy of ev'ry saint
He could easily work a miracle or two.
To love and desire he ought to be unsparkable,
The ways of the flesh should offer no allure.
But where in the world
Is there in the world
A man so untouched and pure?
(C'est moi!)
C'est moi! C'est moi, I blush to disclose.
I'm far too noble to lie.
That man in whom
These qualities bloom,
C'est moi, c'est moi, 'tis I.
I've never strayed
From all I believe;
I'm blessed with an iron will.
Had I been made
The partner of Eve,
We'd be in Eden still.
C'est moi! C'est moi! The angels have chose
To fight their battles below,
And here I stand, as pure as a pray'r,
Incredibly clean, with virtue to spare,
The godliest man I know!
C'est moi!
The Lusty Month of May [ Top ]
GUENEVERE:
Tra la! It's May!
The lusty month of May!
That lovely month when ev'ryone goes
Blissfully astray.
Tra la! It's here!
That shocking time of year
When tons of wicked little thoughts
Merrily appear!
It's May! It's May!
That gorgeous holiday
When ev'ry maiden prays that her lad
Will be a cad!
It's mad! It's gay!
A libelous display!
Those dreary vows that ev'ryone takes,
Ev'ryone breaks.
Ev'ryone makes divine mistakes
The lusty month of May!
Whence this fragrance wafting through the air?
What sweet feelings does its scent transmute?
Whence this perfume floating ev'rywhere?
Don't you know it's that dear forbidden fruit!
Tra la la la la! That dear forbidden fruit!
Tra la la la la!
GUENEVERE & CHORUS:
Tra la la la la [etc.]
GUENEVERE:
Tra la! It's May!
The lusty month of May!
That darling month when ev'ryone throws
Self-control away.
It's time to do
A wretched thing or two,
And try to make each precious day
One you'll always rue!
It's May! It's May!
The month of "yes you may,"
The time for ev'ry frivolous whim,
Proper or "im."
It's wild! It's gay!
A blot in ev'ry way.
The birds and bees with all of their vast
Amorous past
Gaze at the human race aghast,
The lusty month of May.
CHORUS:
Tra la! It's May!
The lusty month of May!
That lovely month when ev'ryone goes
Blissfully astray.
Tra la! It's here!
That shocking time of year
When tons of wicked little thoughts
Merrily appear.
It's May! It's May!
The month of great dismay.
GUENEVERE:
When all the world is brimming with fun,
Wholesome or "un."
GUENEVERE & CHORUS:
It's mad! It's gay!
A libelous display!
Those dreary vows that ev'ryone takes,
Ev'ryone breaks.
Ev'ryone makes divine mistakes
The lusty month of May!
Then You May Take Me To the Fair [ Top ]
GUENEVERE:
Sir Lionel!...
Do you recall the other night
When I distinctly said you might
Serve as my escort at the next town fair?
Well, I'm afraid there's someone who
I must invite in place of you,
Someone who plainly is beyond compare.
That Frenchman's power is more tremendous
Than I have e'er seen anywhere,
And when a man is that stupendous,
He, by right, should take me to the fair.
SIR LIONEL:
Your majesty, let me tilt with him and smite him!
Don't refuse me so abruptly, I implore!
Oh, give me the opportunity to fight him
And Gaul will be divided once more!
GUENEVERE:
You'll bash and thrash him?
SIR LIONEL:
I'll smash and mash him.
GUENEVERE:
You'll give him trouble?
SIR LIONEL:
He will be rubble.
GUENEVERE:
A mighty whack?
SIR LIONEL:
His skull will crack!
GUENEVERE:
Well...
Then you may take me to the fair,
If you do all the things you promise,
In fact my heart would break
Should you not take me
To the fair.
Sir Sagramore!...
I have some rather painful news
Related to the subject: Who's
To be beside me at the next court ball.
You were the chosen one, I know,
But as tradition, it should go
To the unquestioned champion in the hall.
And I'm convinced that splendid Frenchman
Could easily conquer one and all,
And besting all our local henchmen,
He should sit beside me at the ball.
SIR SAGRAMORE:
I beg of you, ma'am, withhold your invitation.
I swear to you, this challenge will be met.
And when I have finished up the operation,
I'll serve him to your highness en brochette.
GUENEVERE:
You'll pierce right through him?
SIR SAGRAMORE:
I'll barbecue him.
GUENEVERE:
A wicked thrust?
SIR SAGRAMORE:
'Twill be dust to dust.
GUENEVERE:
From fore to aft--
SIR SAGRAMORE:
He'll feel a draft!
GUENEVERE:
Well then...
You may sit by me at the ball,
If you demolish him in battle,
In fact, I know I'd cry
Were you not by me
At the ball.
Sir Dinidan!...
Didn't I promise that you may
Guide me to London on the day
That I go up to judge the cattle show?
As it is quite a nasty ride,
There must be someone at my side
Who'll be defending me from beast and foe.
So when I choose whom I prefer go,
I take the strongest knight I know.
And young Du Lac seems strongest, ergo
He should take me to the cattle show.
SIR DINIDAN:
Your majesty can't believe this blust'ring prattle--
Let him prove it with a sword or lance instead!
I promise you, when I've done this Gaul in battle
His shoulders will be lonesome for his head.
GUENEVERE:
You'll disconnect him?
SIR DINIDAN:
I'll vivisect him.
GUENEVERE:
You'll open-wide him?
SIR DINIDAN:
I'll subdivide him.
GUENEVERE:
Oh, dear, dear dear dear dear...
Then you may guide me to the show,
If you can carry out your program,
In fact I'd grieve inside
Should you not guide me
To the show.
SIR LIONEL, SIR SAGRAMORE, & SIR DINIDAN:
Milady, we shall put an end to
That Gallic bag of noise and nerve.
When we do all that we intend to,
He'll be a plate of French hors d'ouevres!
GUENEVERE:
I do applaud your noble goals,
Now let us see if you achieve them.
And if you do, then you will be the three
Who will go
To the ball, to the show,
And take me to the fair.
How To Handle a Woman [ Top ]
ARTHUR:
"How to handle a woman?
There's a way," said the wise old man,
"A way known by ev'ry woman
Since the whole rigmarole began."
"Do I flatter her?" I begged him answer.
"Do I threaten or cajole or plead?
Do I brood or play the gay romancer?"
Said he, smiling: "No indeed.
How to handle a woman?
Mark me well, I will tell you, sir:
The way to handle a woman
Is to love her...simply love her...
Merely love her...love her...love her."
Before I Gaze At You Again [ Top ]
GUENEVERE:
Before I gaze at you again
I'll need a time for tears.
Before I gaze at you again
Let hours turn to years.
I have so much forgetting to do
Before I try to gaze again at you.
Stay away until you cross my mind
Barely once a day.
Stay away until I wake and find
I can smile and say
That I can gaze at you again
Without a blush or qualm,
My eyes a-shine like new again,
My manner poised and calm,
No sign of tears, not even a sigh.
And so, till when we gaze again, goodbye!
If Ever I Would Leave You [ Top ]
LANCELOT:
If ever I would leave you
It wouldn't be in summer,
Seeing you in summer
I never would go:
Your hair streaked with sunlight,
Your lips red as flame,
Your face with a lustre
That puts gold to shame.
But if I'd ever leave you
How could it be in autumn?
How I'd leave in autumn
I never would know.
I've seen how you sparkle
When fall nips the air;
I know you in autumn
And I must be there.
And could I leave you running merrily through the snow?
Or on a wint'ry evening when you catch the fire's glow?
If ever I would leave you
How could it be in springtime,
Knowing how in spring I'm
Bewitched by you so?
Oh, no! Not in springtime,
Summer, winter or fall!
No, never could I leave you at all!
The Seven Deadly Virtues [ Top ]
MODRED:
The seven deadly virtues, those ghastly little traps,
Oh no, my liege, they were not meant for me!
The seven deadly virtues were made for other chaps,
Who love a life of failure and ennui.
Take courage: Now, there's a sport.
An invitation to the state of rigor mort!
And purity: a noble yen
And very restful ev'ry now and then.
I find humility means to be hurt.
It's not the earth the meek inherit, it's the dirt!
Honesty is fatal; it should be taboo.
Diligence: a fate I would hate.
If charity is giving, I give it to you,
And fidelity is only for your mate.
You'll never find a virtue un-statusing my quo
Or making my Beelzebubble burst.
Let others take the high road; I will take the low.
I cannot wait to rush in where angels fear to go.
With all those seven deadly virtues
Free and happy little me has not been cursed.
What Do the Simple Folk Do? [ Top ]
GUENEVERE:
What do the simple folk do
To help them escape when they're blue?
The shepherd who is ailing,
The milkmaid who is glum,
The cobbler who is wailing
From nailing
His thumb?
When they're beset and beseiged,
The folk not noblessely obliged,
However do they manage
To shed their weary lot?
Oh, what do simple folk do
We do not?
ARTHUR:
I have been informed by those who know them well
They find relief in quite a clever way.
When they're sorely pressed, they whistle for a spell,
And whistling seems to brighten up their day.
And that's what simple folk do, so they say.
GUENEVERE:
They whistle?
ARTHUR:
So they say.
[ARTHUR and GUENEVERE whistle; they find it isn't cheering
them up, and stop.]
GUENEVERE:
What else do the simple folk do
To perk up the heart and get through?
The wee folk and the grown folk
Who wander to and fro
Have ways known to their own folk
We throne folk
Don't know.
When all the doldrums begin,
What keeps each of them in his spin?
What ancient native custom
Provides the needed glow?
Oh, what do simple folk do?
Do you know?
ARTHUR:
Once, upon the road, I came upon a lad
Singing in a voice three times his size.
When I asked him why, he told me he was sad
And singing always made his spirits rise.
And that's what simple folk do, I surmise.
GUENEVERE:
They sing?
ARTHUR:
I surmise.
ARTHUR & GUENEVERE:
Arise, my love, arise, my love!
Apollo's lighting the skies, my love!
The meadows shine
With columbine
And daffodils blossom away.
Hear Venus call
To one and all:
Come taste delight while you may!
The world is bright
And all is right
And life is merry and gay...
GUENEVERE:
What else do the simple folk do?
They must have a system or two!
They obviously outshine us
At turning tears to mirth,
And tricks a royal highness
Is minus
From birth.
When all the doldrums begin,
What keeps each of them in his spin?
They have some tribal sorc'ry
You haven't mentioned yet.
Oh, what do simple folk do
To forget?
ARTHUR:
Often, I am told, they dance a fiery dance
And whirl till they're completely uncontrolled.
Soon the mind is blank, and oh, they're in a trance,
A violent trance astounding to behold.
And that's what simple folk do, so I'm told.
[ARTHUR and GUENEVERE begin to dance, rapidly, frenetically,
then give up, exhausted.]
GUENEVERE:
What else do the simple folk do
To help them escape when they're blue?
ARTHUR:
They sit around and wonder
What royal folk would do.
And that's what simple folk do.
GUENEVERE:
No, really?
ARTHUR:
I have it on the best authority.
ARTHUR & GUENEVERE:
Yes, that's what simple folk do.
Fie On Goodness! [ Top ]
KNIGHTS:
Fie on goodness! Fie!
Fie on goodness! Fie!
Eight years of kindness to your neighbour,
Making sure that the meek are treated well,
Eight years of philanthropic labor,
Derry-down-dell, gad, but it's hell!
Oh, fie on goodness! Fie!
Fie! Fie! Fie!
It's been depressing all the way
(Derry-down, derry-down)
And getting glummer ev'ry day.
(Derry down, derry down)
Ah, but to burn a little town or slay a dozen men,
Anything to laugh again!
Oh, fie on goodness! Fie!
Fie! Fie! Fie! Fie! Fie!
SOLO 1:
When I think of the rollicking pleasures that earlier filled my life
(Lolly-lo, lolly-lo)
Like the time I beheaded a man who was beating his naked wife.
KNIGHTS:
(Lolly-lo, lolly lo!)
SOLO 1:
I can still hear his widow say,
Never moving from where she lay:
"Tell me, what can I do,
I beg, sir, of you,
Your kindness to repay?"...
KNIGHTS:
Fie on goodness! Fie!
Fie on goodness! Fie!
Lechery and vice have been arrested,
Not a maiden is evermore in threat.
Virgins may wander unmolested!
Lolly-lo-let, gad, it's a sweat!
Oh, fie on goodness! Fie!
Fie! Fie! Fie! Fie! Fie!
SOLO 2 [During this solo, the other knights imitate the sound
of bagpipes]:
How we roared and brawled in Scotland!
Not a law was aye obeyed!
And when wooing called in Scotland,
We'd grab any passing maid.
Ah, my heart is still in Scotland
Where the lasses woo the best,
On some bonny hill in Scotland,
Stroking someone's bonny--
KNIGHTS [interrupting]:
Fie on Scotland! Fie!
Fie on Scotland! Fie!
No one repents for any sin now,
Ev'ry soul is immaculate and trim.
No one is covered with chagrin now,
Nonny-no-nim, gad, but it's grim!
Oh, fie on goodness! Fie!
Fie! Fie! Fie!
There's not a folly to deplore.
(Derry-down, derry-down)
Confession Sunday is a bore.
(Derry-down, derry down)
Ah, but to spend a tortured evening staring at the floor,
Guilty and alove once more!
Oh, fie on virtue! Fie!
Fie on mercy! Fie!
Fie on justice!
Fie on goodness!
Fie! Fie! Fie! Fie! Fie!
I Loved You Once in Silence [ Top ]
GUENEVERE:
I loved you once in silence,
And mis'ry was all I knew.
Trying so to keep my love from showing,
All the while not knowing
You loved me too.
Yes, loved me in lonesome silence,
Your heart filled with dark despair,
Knowing love would flame in you forever
And I'd never, never
Know the flame was there.
Then one day
We cast away
Our secret longing;
The raging tide
We held inside
Would hold no more.
The silence at last was broken!
We flung wide our prison door.
Ev'ry joyous word of love was spoken...
And now there's twice as much grief, twice the strain for us,
Twice the despair, twice the pain for us
As we had known before.
And after all had been said, here we are, my love,
Silent once more, and not far, my love,
From where we were before.
Guenevere [ Top ]
SOLO:
Oh, they found Guenevere
With her bold cavalier.
And as swords rang through the hall,
Lance escaped them one and all.
On a day dark and drear
Came to trial Guenevere.
Ruled the jury, for her shame
She be sentenced to the flame.
CHORUS:
Early dawn was the time
She would pay for her crime.
Or would Lancelot reappear,
Come and rescue Guenevere?
SOLO:
I'll wager the king himself is hoping he will return.
Why would he have chosen five a.m. for the queen to burn?
When the world is black and grey, what time could be more ideal
For Lancelot to come and steal
Guenevere?
CHORUS:
As the dawn filled the sky
On the day she would die,
There was wonder far and near:
Would the king burn Guenevere?
SOLO:
Then suddenly, earth and sky were dazed by a pounding roar,
And suddenly, through the dawn an army began to pour.
And lo, ahead the army, holding aloft his spear
Came Lancelot to save his dear
Guenevere!
CHORUS:
By the score fell the dead
As the yard turned to red.
Countless numbers felt his spear
As he rescued Guenevere.
In that dawn, in that room
More than love met its doom.
In the dying candle's gleam
Came the sundown of a dream.
Guenevere, Guenevere
In that dim mornful year
Saw the men she held most dear
Go to war for Guenevere.
Camelot (Reprise) [ Top ]
ARTHUR:
Each evening, from December to December,
Before you drift to sleep upon your cot,
Think back on all the tales that you remember
Of Camelot.
Ask ev'ry person if he's heard the story,
And tell it strong and clear if he has not,
That once there was a fleeting wisp of glory
Called Camelot.
Camelot! Camelot!
Now say it out with pride and joy!
TOM:
Camelot! Camelot!
ARTHUR:
Yes, Camelot, my boy!
Where once it never rained till after sundown,
By eight a.m. the morning fog had flown...
Don't let it be forgot
That once there was a spot
For one brief shining moment that was known
As Camelot.