What do you think will happen? Here’s a clue. Doctor Who is not the only character who might regenerate this Christmas.

 

Eight years ago, Prince Bertie mysteriously disappeared. Listeners to Storynory know that the Wicked Queen turned him into a frog and he has been living on the Palace Pond with the tadpoles, fishes and birds.

 

Poor Princess Beatrice does not know the truth. Nonetheless she has waited faithfully for the return of her beloved Bertie.

 

This winter on the battlements of the Palace there have been some strange sightings. People are confused, especially William Shakespeare.

 

Read by Richard and Natasha.

Written by Bertie.

 

[play up wind effect and spooking music]

Storynory Presents, Prince Bertie Returns Act 1

 

Narrator

 

It was a shrewd, nippy and eagre night. The guard on the drawbridge of the palace was stamping his foot and clapping his gloves together. He heard the sound of approaching footsteps, but could not make out a face through the dark and the mist .

 

Francisco

Who’s there ? Answer Me !

 

Bernardo

Long live the Wicked Queen !

 

Francisco

 

And what about the king?

 

Bernardo

Oh, Long live him too.. It’s time, Francisco, that you were off to bed with a cup of hot coco.

 

Narrator

This was the relief guard, bang on time to start the midnight shift. Just as his beard and fur cap were emerging out of the gloom, the two soldiers heard a third pair of heavy boots stomping towards them.

 

Francisco

What Ho ! Who’s there?

 

Horatio

Friend!

 

Narrator

Came the reply in a voice that unmistakably belonged to Horatio, who was also on guard that night. The three comrades now stood together and shared some warming mints called Fishmonger’s Friends.

 

Bernardo

All quiet?

 

Francisco

Not a mouse stirring

 

Bernardo

No sign of that, you know, thing?

 

Francisco

Not tonight.

 

Bernardo

Horatio smiles. He thinks it is but our fantasy.

 

Narrator

It was just then that, somewhere deep down in the moat, a frog croaked. “Ribbit!”Two of the three burly guards jumped six feet in the air.

 

Bernardo

Wu-oh, here it comes again! You’re the brainy one Horatio . . . Speak to it.

 

Horatio

So I shall. Here froggy, froggy… don’t be scared little green fellow.

 

Bernardo

You’ll snigger on the other side of your spotty face any moment.

 

Francisco

How now Horatio. You tremble and look pale. Is this something more than fantasy?

 

Bernardo

Is it not the very likeness of the Prince?

 

Horatio

As you say, it has his spitting image. See! The very same green fleece he wore that day he smacked Prince Boris in the face for calling him a nincompoop.

 

Bernardo

I remember it well. You must fetch Princess Beatrice. Only her fair judgement may rule if it is really him.

 

Francisco

Surely not. The Princess will be scared out of her wits.

 

Horatio

I am with Bernardo. She pines so plaintively for him, and longs for his safe return. She turns away all suitors in the belief that he still lives, and she sincerely thinks that he is away on a secret mission. Here is the very proof that he is departed …. and yet, ll fully departed … The thing walks the earth at this midnight hour, longing to pass on the true story to the beloved princess. It will be a kindness to bring her here for their final farewells.

 

Narrator

The guards were agreed, Horatio would speak to the her – once known by all as The Lovely Princess Beatrice, people had now taken to calling her The Sad Princess, or, as her stepmother liked to say, The “Mopey Dopey” Princess.

 

[Play up some music for scene transition]]

 

Wicked Queen

 

Here she comes hanging her head like a sick donkey. She’s still wearing that same old pair of shoes, even though they’ve got holes in them. Look, I can see her big toe sticking out. That’s no way for a princess to go about.

 

The King

 

My dear, she’s never really been same since the day my son vanished.

 

The Wicked Queen

 

Well she should get over it ! One thing this world is never short of is men. She’s got so many suitors she could get married every day for the next ten years if she wanted to. Both Prince Boris and Prince Freddie have been chasing her for years, but she doesn’t even open their emails – and now my old friend Rupert is shopping for a new wife.

 

The King

 

Rupert?

 

The Wicked Queen

 

You know him, inky-winky Rupie, the newspaper man. He’s charming and funny and — Filthy Rich – The poor chap’s quite heart broken and needs a new love in his life to heal his sorrow. Normally I would push Beatrice in his way, but hey-ho, there’s no point. She’s no fun at all.

 

The King

 

Well let’s have a word with her. Eh-hem. Beatrice, my dear, step over here a moment please. There’s a good girl.

 

Beatrice

 

Yes, my Lord.

 

The King

 

How is it that a cloud still hangs over your head?

 

Beatrice

 

Not so my Lord. I’m feeling bright and sunny.

 

The Wicked Queen

 

Beatrice my dear, there’s no need to be so down in the dumps. Moping around for ever is no option. Bertie will never come back now. You know it is common. All that loves must fade. Believe me, passing through marriage to eternity is a fate far worse than being jilted.

Think yourself lucky ! Suppose you had married him. You’d be bickering over the dishes by now.

 

Beatrice

 

It does seem common.

 

The King

 

Now, now my dear. Go out and buy yourself a new pair of shoes.

wholly MNM

Beatrice

 

I shan’t ! I wore these the day that he left. And I swore that I would wear no others until the day he returns.

 

The King

 

But they’re falling apart.

 

Beatrice

 

Then I shall go barefoot.

 

The Wicked Queen

 

Foolish Fop ! She might as well go and live in a nunnery.

 

Narrator

 

Beatrice returned to her chamber. The big wide world kept turning, but she sometimes wondered why it bothered when Prince Bertie wasn’t around. How could people smile and joke and be happy, when Prince Bertie wasn’t there? What was the point of making plans for the future, without Prince Bertie? She looked out from her window and exclaimed:

 

Beatrice

 

“Fie on’t! ah fie! ’tis an unweeded garden !”

 

Alas ! No more can I take pleasure in the golden leaves as they sweep across the lawn driven by the mad north west wind. No more can I look at the ghostly trees and think of the day when they will turn green again. No more can I delight in the ducks that waddle up the garden path. As for the palace pond, it is nothing but a deep swirling cesspit of rotting villainy.

 

Narrator

 

And in the region of those very same smelly waters, a loud noise just then was heard:

 

Colin

 

“Pwooooooooh… is that you Bertie? ”

 

Narrator

 

That voice, in case you do not know, belongs to Colin the Carp. He’s a most grumpy fish.

 

Colin

 

“Something’s rotten in the state of this pond!”

 

Narrator

 

And for once Colin was right. Billy from the palace kitchen had missed the recycling truck and tipped a whole load of rotting food into the pond when noone was looking.

 

And the pond was where Bertie was doomed to pass his days.

 

Poor Prince ! Fated to live as a frog among the fishes and the tadpoles. He wore his lot patiently for eight long years.

 

Now, Horatio, as promised, paid a visit to the Princess and told her all about the strange visitation on the battlements. Towards midnight, excited, but skeptical, Beatrice wrapped up in an extra warm ski coat and wooly hat. For once, the guards did not call out a wary challenge as they saw a figure approach – for who could fail to recognise Her Loveliness, even through the darkness of a Northerly winter’s night?

 

[Sound FX, play up blustery sounds]

 

Beatrice

 

So you three saw a ghost on a skateboard?

 

Bernardo

Yes, my lady. That last Night and the one before.

 

Beatrice

 

And you say he bears a passing resemblance to my own dear sweet Prince?

 

Bernardo

 

More than passing, my lady, you shall see for yourself in a moment.

 

Beatrice

Me thinks that someone is playing a trick on you.

 

Horatio

Look my lady, here it comes!

 

Beatrice

 

Angels and ministers of grace defend us!-

Be thou a spirit of health or goblin damn’d,

Bring with thee airs from heaven or blasts from hell,

Be thy intents wicked or charitable,

Thou com’st in such a questionable shape

That I will speak to thee. I’ll call thee Bertie!

 

Bernardo

 

It beckons you to go with it.

 

Horatio

 

Do not follow. What if it leads you over a cliff, or into madness?

 

Beatrice

It will not speak. I shall follow it.

 

Horatio

Do not my princess !

 

Beatrice

Unhand me gentlemen!

 

Bernardo

Uh-oh, she’s off. Well now we’re for it, good and proper.

 

Narrator

Up, up she climbed, following the vision round the winding stone steps of the North Tower and onto the exposed battlements.

 

Beatrice

 

Alas, poor ghost

 

Bertie

Ghost? You take me for a Ghost?

 

Beatrice

‘Well you’re waxing and waning

 

Bertie

What does that mean?

 

Beatrice

You know, coming and going.

 

Bertie

I’m not coming and going. I’m swiveling on my skateboard.

 

Beatrice

Well look at you. You’re fading in and out.

 

Bertie

I’m no Ghost. I’m alive I tell you.

 

Beatrice

Are you sure?

 

Bertie

Quite sure. But the fate that has fallen me is far stranger than death.

 

I was doomed for a certain term, eight years to be precise, to swim among foul tempered fishes, silly tadpoles, and pretentious waterfowl. In a word, Pondlife!

 

Beatrice

Oh Poor Bertie! What happened? The true story, tell it to me, I must know.

 

Bertie

I am forbidden

To tell the secrets of my prison house,

I could a tale unfold that whose lightest word

Would harrow up thy soul, freeze thy young blood,

Make thy two eyes, like stars, start from their spheres.

 

Beatrice

 

Oh Bertie, do unfold. You can’t keep it from me now.

 

Bertie

Your stepmother, the wicked queen, who has since married my father and become my own stepmother too, confusing and confounding everybody, is the guilty one. She did it. She is responsible for my long absence from your arms. My sins against her were trifling. I annoyed her with my skateboarding inside the palace. I broke her Ming Vase. It was an accident. But she schemed to prevent our marriage. That is the real reason why she turned me, by means of a most foul, unnatural, and slimy spell, into a frog. Then in place of our happy and blissful wedding, she married the King – taking the palace, the kingdom, everything for her own.

 

Beatrice

 

You mean, she stole the Royal Wedding?

 

Bertie

 

In a nutshell! A deed most dastardly ! The Crime of the week, er, of the millenium

 

Beatrice

 

But Bertie, you are fading again. Come back my prince!

 

Bertie

Adieu, Adieu, I turn back to a frog. Croak!!!!!!!!

 

Narrator

 

In the Palace, a Prince kneels before the throne. His name is Freddie, a long time suitor of The Lovely Princess Beatrice. He is a swot who had helped her with her maths homework when she was at school. His favourite pastime is adding up anything but anything, but especially money. If money could buy him love, he would have a surfeit of it ! As the song goes, money cannot buy love. But it can sometimes buy marriage.

 

Wicked Queen

 

Freddie I have a mission for you. You must put on these.

 

Narrator

And she threw down a pile of dirty laundry. With melancholy air he sifted through the clothes.

 

Freddie

Whose are these smelly old things?

 

Wicked Queen

They belonged, long ago, to Prince Bertie. Now it is time for you to put them on.

 

Freddie

 

Alas, poor Bertie, I knew him lady, A fellow

Of infinite jest, of most irrelevant fancy, he hath

kicked me in the pants a thousand times.

Oh Bertie, Where be your gibes now? your

gambols? your songs? your flashes of merriment?

Here are the knee pads you wore when you skateboarded in the world championships. And here your elbow pads. And your flaming red helmet. And your Spiderman t-shirt. Why on Heaven and Earth would I want to wear these, my lady?

 

Wicked Queen

There are more things in heaven and earth, Freddie, than you learned of in your homework

 

Freddie

 

By which you mean?

 

Wicked Queen

 

You hanker after the hand of the lovely Beatrice, right? But she still mopes about with her sweet head full of dopy daydreams of her by-gone Bertie. Now here’s the plan. You put on his clothes and the antics of a loony. Go to her chamber and prance around like you can’t find your reason. Shake your head. Hang out your tongue. Roll on the floor. She will think that her poor Bertie has come back at long last but has left his wits behind him. She will see that he is quite mad, and she won’t be far wrong.

 

Freddie

But my lady – I mean it is a fine and cunning plan – but how would Beatrice mistake me for Bertie?

Look here, upon his picture, and on this,

See what dopiness is seated in his brow

And upon mine own serious and swotty face,

(with pride) The scholarly spot at the end of my pointy nose

 

Wicked Queen

Ha ! Do you not think I’ve thought of that? Here, wear this!

 

Narrator

 

And she throws onto the pile of skateboarding togs the mask of a space warrior. It is the same disguise that Bertie wore at his final Christmas Ball before he disappeared. Beatrice would be sure to recognise it right away.

 

Freddie followed the Wicked Queen’s plan to the letter, but did it work out the way she intended? Well, not exactly. The following morning, as the Queen was sitting at her dressing table adjusting her new wig, some delicate white knuckles knocked softly on her door.

 

Wicked Queen

That will be my prissy stepdaughter No doubt she’s not got over the sight of her dear Bertie raving and drooling on her floor….Enter! , What is it?

 

Beatrice

 

Alas, my lady, I have been so affrighted!

 

Wicked Queen

With what, in the name of Osiris?

 

Beatrice

The Prince, with his skatepads tied around his neck, his shoe laces undone, his socks odd, his bermuda shorts besmirched with chocolate cake, his Spiderman t-shirt back to front, his knees knocking together, and a look so piteous in its perplexity as if he had been loosened out of a physics exam, to speak of horrors, comes before me.

 

Wicked Queen

Mad for your love?

 

Beatrice

I fear it. He takes me by the wrist and lets out a cry so pathetic that he sounds like a little girl howling for her mummy on her first day at nursery school.

 

Wicked Queen

So this is the fate that has befallen Bertie. It is far worse than death. He has gone out of his tiny mind. That’ssettled then. A princess can’t possibly marry a loony.

 

Beatrice

Who ?

 

Wicked Queen

Prince Bertie. Who else do you speak of?

 

Beatrice

Oh no, my lady, it was Prince Freddie. I would recognise those knobbly knees anywhere. I was in his class at school all those years, and I recall clearly how he used to skive off games and stand shivering on the touchline. His teeth chattered and his knees knocked. It was ever thus.

 

Wicked Queen

Are you sure it wasn’t Bertie?

 

Beatrice

As sure as I see your purple wig sitting on the dressing table. As sure as I know that my Bertie has not forgotten me, and that one day soon, my lady, he shall return. You’ll soon see. He’ll be back by Christmas ! That I promise you !

 

Narrator

And as Beatrice left the room, not quietly as she came in, but stomping petulantly, the Queen thought to herself:

 

Wicked Queen

Drat, I mean double drat. She knows that Bertie is waxing and waning. She’s waiting for him to come back any day now.

 

Narrator

And Princess Beatrice thought:

 

Beatrice

Bother, I mean double bother. She knows now that I know that Bertie’s coming back. Why couldn’t I keep my pretty mouth shut? That cat is well out of the bag.

 

Narrator

Outside on the pond, Prince Bertie the frog still sat on his illy leaf. The little tadpoles still swam around asking incessantly:

 

Tadpole Voices

 

Bertie, oh Bertie, when are you going to turn back into a Prince?

 

Bertie

Well children, if I turn back into a frog, I won’t be able to tell you stories any more.

 

Sadie

Oh, Bertie, how we shall all miss you!

 

Colin

I’ve seen frogspawn turn into tadpoles, and tadpoles turn into frogs, but something I’ve never seen is an annoying frog turn into a Prince !

 

Bertie

Little Tim, I see by the frantic swishing of your tail that you want to say something.

 

Tim

Oooh Yes, it’s true that frogs turn into princes. We learned about it in Biology.

 

Colin

Phwa! The only thing they teach in the pond school is ignorance.

 

Tim

ooo, ooo, I just had a thought. Oh, where did it go? Oh yes, there it is. Why don’t you ask Natasha to tell the Lovely Princess Beatrice that you’re a frog ? And then she’ll come down to the pond and kiss you… then you’ll turn back into a prince.

 

Bertie

Good question Tim. Yes Natasha, why don’t you do that?”

 

Natasha

Well Bertie, it’s like this. Every week I send her our stories and she never gets back to me. In all these years, she’s not left a single comment on the website.

 

Bertie

Ah yes, well she’s wonderful and all that, but she can be a bit strange sometimes.

 

Now listen Natasha, I’ve got a secret to share …tadpoles, swim off and play will you?

 

Step a bit closer, Natasha…. don’t get your feet wet… I need to whisper into your shell-like. listen, I’m waxing and waning.

 

Natasha

You’re what?

 

Bertie

I’m fading in and out.

 

Natasha

How do you mean?

 

Bertie

Once or twice, around the midnight hour, I have faded back almost into a prince, but I can’t yet hold my form. Strictly between you me and the gatepost, I think the Wicked Queen’s spell is starting to wear a bit thin.

 

Natasha

Oh Bertie, I had a funny feeling that change was afoot. This is so exciting!

 

Bertie

 

But I still fear the Wicked Wicked Queen. My tale is so strange that I doubt anyone will believe me when I make my return. They will ask, “Where’s that Bertie been all these years?” And I shall say, “I’ve been a frog down on the pond. The Queen did it to me.” And the Queen will say, “Bertie’s come back even crazier than before”.

 

Natasha

It’s true. Nobody believes me either when I tell them. They say fell asleep by the pond one summer’s day and dreamed it all up.

 

Bertie

 

So here’s the plan. On Christmas Eve it is the custom in the palace to gather around the tree for storytelling. This year be sure that it is you who is telling the story. Make it a good one. The best. The tale of how the Wicked Queen turned the dashing young prince into a frog. Only don’t say it is me, exactly. Give the hero a princely name like Wills or Charlie. The queen, let her be Mary or Gerty. At the moment when the prince is turned into a frog, mark how she reacts. There will be a ghastly and most un-Christmassy fury no doubt. In this way we shall prove before the whole court that she is the guilty party.

 

Natasha

 

Oh Great plan Bertie ! And to be on the safe-side you must make yourself scarce until you are fully formed as a prince.

 

Make your way to England, to Notting Hill, where I know a secret hideaway. I know, I will wrap you up in a parcel and send you by special delivery !

 

Bertie

 

Agreed. We are as one.

 

Natasha

As ever.

 

Bertie

 

The story’s the scene, by which to catch a queen.

 

[Play up Music]

 

Narrator

The flaps on the Advent Callendar are lifted up one by one. The winter nights fly by as fast as Santa’s Sleigh, and swiftly we arrive at Christmas Eve. There have been no more sightings of Bertie on the battlements. The Wicked Queen has been striding up and down the pond but has failed to spot him. Princess Beatrice feels it is too, too cruel to have been lifted up by hope, and dropped down by disappointment. She wanders the cloisters of the palace on her own.

 

Beatrice

 

To kiss or not to kiss, that is the question

Whether it is better to hide in one’s room all day

Or to wade into waters full of troubles and slime

And kiss every ugly frog and toad

In the forlorn hope that one might be my prince.

 

Horatio

 

Ah, Beatrice, there you are, you’ll be late

 

Beatrice

 

Late for what, Horatio?

 

Horatio

 

For storytelling. Natasha’s getting ready under the tree.

 

Beatrice

 

Oh that young lady. I wonder where she gets all her peculiar tales from.

 

Horatio

 

Some say they come from Bertie my lady.

 

Beatrice

 

I know. Those rumours make me feel a bit, well, funny. I would never like to be jealous, but it would seem odd if Bertie was in touch with her all this time, and not me.

 

Horatio

 

Come my lady.

 

[Music]

 

Natasha

 

You’re laughing,” said the stepmother. “I’ll teach you not to boast. I’ll teach you not to show off. I’ll teach you not to do silly tricks. I’ll teach you not to marry my daughter.”

 

“Oh no thanks.” said the prince. “I go to school to learn things. I don’t need another teacher.”

 

“So you think it’s funny that I’m all green and covered in slime. I’ll show you what it’s like to be green and eat slime for the rest of your life.”

 

And with that she muttered a magic spell and turned the Prince into a frog.

 

“Oh dear,” said the Prince. “Croak. I wonder what the lovely Princess will say now.”

 

Narrator

 

And the real queen, as she heard this story grew more and more purple in the face. In fact there was steam coming out of her nostrils. She leapt up off her throne and screeched:

 

Wicked Queen

 

Enough! This story’s a monstrous calumny ! It is all a tissue of lies. How did it get past the censor ? Call Lord Leveson and tell him he is out of a job !

 

Narrator

 

And Beatrice stood up and shouted :

 

Beatrice

 

Na Na Na Na NA ! Gotcha ! The real reason you’re angry is because it’s all true

 

Wicked Queen

 

Oh no it isn’t !

 

Beatrice

 

Oh yes it is!

 

Wicked Queen

 

Oh no it isn’t

 

BERTIE

 

Oh YES IT IS !!!!!!

 

Wicked Queen

 

Who said that?

 

Bertie

 

I did. Prince Bertie, back from the pond.

The undiscovered country.The bourne from which

no man returns Only I just did. I’m back.

 

Croak !

 

Well I’ve still got a bit of croak in my throat but apart from that I’m a prince once again. And I have come to claim the hand of my betrothed, my lovely, beloved, only, sweet Beatrice.

 

Beatrice

 

Oh Bertie!

 

Prince Boris

 

Oh no you don’t !

 

Prince Bertie

 

Who said that?

 

Prince Boris

 

I did. Prince Boris the Bold. Remember me!

 

Prince Bertie

 

I remember smacking you in the mouth.

 

Prince Boris

 

For calling you a nincompoop which you still are. And in the New Year I shall marry Beatrice for she is betrothed to me.

 

Bertie

 

Beatrice, can this be true?

 

Beatrice

 

First I heard of it.

 

Wicked Queen

 

That’s because, my dear, I haven’t told you yet. But you’re too late Bertie. I’ve given her away to Boris.

 

Beatrice

 

Oh no, It can’t be! I shall never go through with it!

 

Bertie

 

In that case you leave me with no choice. Boris I challenge you to a duel. Tomorrow is Christmas Day, and we shall pass it peacefully going to church, eating lunch, and opening presents. But the day after is known as Boxing Day, and tradition holds that on that day there shall be sport a plenty, and a right royal punch up.

 

But this time there will be no mere fisticuffs. We’ll use real swords.

 

Beatrice

 

Bertie no, you mustn’t.

 

Boris

 

You’re on Bertie. Enjoy your Christmas lunch, for it shall be your last.

 

Music Final Act

 

Beatrice

 

Why do boys take up arms to fight one another?

Why must they rush headlong into a scrap?

Boasting and bragging leads them into a sea of troubles

Swords and daggers are not toys to be trifled with

A bare bodkin has a point that is sharp and swift

One minute his blazing eyes light up the world

and the next they gaze into all eternity

 

Horatio

 

My Lord, Fight this fight if you must, but your friends would be far happier if you found a peaceful way out. Nobody can question your courage, but in those eight long years as a frog you had little practice with the rapier and the dagger.

 

Beatrice

 

Oh do Bertie listen to your friends. Think of the poet Pushkin, who delighted the snowy Russians with his stories in verse, and then threw away his life and talent in a duel.

 

Bertie

 

By my honour as a prince, I cannot run away from this fight. But since you implore me, I will offer to shake hands with Boris. If he agrees to make peace, all well and good. But if he does not take my hand, then I have faith that I can beat him in a fight that’s fair and square.

 

Narrator

 

Meanwhile at the other end of the castle, the Wicked Queen is briefing Boris for the Big Fight.

 

Wicked Queen

 

Listen up Boris. Whatever you do, don’t let Bertie back out of this. Fight dirty. Fight unfair. Fight to win.

 

Prince Boris

 

I shall my lady.

 

Wicked Queen

 

Good boy Boris. Bertie is careless. When he picks his sword he won’t be paying much attention. But you must choose yours carefully. Take this one. It’s end is dipped in magic potion. Let its point prick his skin, and within ten minutes he will turn back into a frog. Got it?

 

Boris

 

Yes my lady.

 

Wicked Queen

 

And just to be sure, here’s Plan B. I shall fill this goblet with magic potion. When Bertie gets thirsty from the fight, we shall offer it to him. Let him gulp it down greedily, and some time later he shall be back as a frog.

 

Boris

 

Excellent my lady. You think of everything.

 

Wicked Queen

 

And the most cunning part of it is this: my soppy and dopy step daughter, Princess Beatrice, won’t blame you for chopping up her daring warling Bertie before her tear filled eyes. It’s far better that he hops off as a frog, and nobody is any the wiser as to how it happened.

 

[Fanfare]

 

Tout

 

Roll up roll up for the Big Boxing Day Fight, Get your Souvenir Brochures here.

 

Official

All quiet for the king !

 

The King

 

Okay you two princess, I want a fair fight, no stabbing in the back or below the waist. We need a nice, clean kill to settle this silly squabble and the king’s decision is final.

 

Bertie

 

Listen Boris, we never got on at school, and I’m sorry that I smacked you in the mouth all those years ago. I know that ever since you have been smarting for revenge, but now I’m offering you my hand and a royal apology.

 

Prince Boris

 

Oh no you’re not going to wriggle out of this one now you cowardly custard

 

The Wicked Queen

 

Boring. Come on, get on with it. At each other you two !

 

Bell rings and sound of clashing swords and oohs and ahs

 

Referee

 

A hit, a hit ! A palpable hit !

 

Bell rings

 

The King

 

Bandage up Boris’s arm. Round one to Bertie.

 

Wicked Queen

 

Well done Bertie. Thirsty work hey? Here have a drink.

 

Prince Bertie

 

Oh no thanks. I brought my own fizzy cola with plenty of sugar in it.

 

Bell rings – sound of sword fight

 

Boris

 

I’ve got you this time

 

Bertie

 

Oh no you haven’t

 

Boris

 

Yee ow ! That’s not fair. Bertie cheated. He stabbed my big toe.

 

Bertie

 

I didn’t mean to, it was an accident.

 

The King

 

Round two goes to no one. The third and final bout will decide the match.

 

Wicked Queen

 

Are you sure you won’t have a little sip of my drink Bertie? All that sugar’s going to your head and you are getting overexcited.

 

Bertie

 

It’s okay, I’ll have water thanks. (aside – why is she so keen for me to drink from that goblet? I bet it’s got one of her nasty concoctions inside it.)

 

Bell Rings – fight resumes

 

Bertie

 

Take that smarmy face

 

Boris

 

No you take that you right royal nincompoop

 

Bertie

 

You’re not marrying my Beatrice

 

Boris

 

Oh yes I am.

 

Both make grunting sounds as they get into a tight grapple

 

Boris

 

Yee-oh wee he did it again, he stabbed my foot!

 

Bertie

 

Oh no I didn’t! You stabbed yourself with your own sword.

 

Prince Boris

 

I feel strange. Save me ! Croak !

 

The King

 

Oh no, the Queen’s fainted.

 

Bertie

 

Here bring her round with a slurp from this goblet.

 

The King

 

Sip my dear, it will do you good

 

The Queen (sipping sound)

 

What was that drink? Oh no, you fool, you fool , you silly old fool, that was the magic potion

 

The King

 

The what?

 

Wicked Queen

 

The potion that was meant for Bertie. Within five minutes I shall be a frog, and so shall Boris, for he stabbed himself his own sword that was dipped in magic….croak !

 

Bertie

 

Hop off to the pond the pair of you. I’ll tell Colin the Carp to roll out the welcome mat and get some squashed flies ready for your tea.

 

Beatrice

 

Oh Bertie you are my true prince !

 

Bertie

 

And you , Beatrice, are my true princess !

 

Narrator

 

And that was the final part of Prince Bertie Returns, presented by Storynory.com, free audio stories for kids.

 

There will be more stories to follow with Prince Bertie in his human princely form. Coming up, Look out for a Royal Wedding in the Spring. Who knows, there may even be some little princelings. Can you imagine Bertie as a Dad?

 

And Bertie would like to thank everyone who has faithfully followed his stories during his long years of exile on the pond and all those people who have left comments wishing that he will turn back into a

prince.

 

The first Bertie story was recorded just before Christmas 2005. This special edition was recorded for storynory.com for Christmas 2013.

 

The actors were Natasha Lee Lewis and me Richard Scott. The drama was written by Bertie with profuse apologies to William Shakespeare. And Bertie says that one day we might put on some real Shakespeare

 

For now, from all of us ….

 

Happy Christmas !