The Tale of the Dancing Cup Revisited
I wrote a blog entry about the story of the time my protective cup ended up on the list field in the middle of a bout here. Well it appears the tale has spread once again and a fellow scadian (member of the SCA) decided it was time to write a poem about the event and so I give you:
Cu And His Cup
By THLaird Colyne Stewart, March AS 49 (2015)
Attend and hear a story that I swear to be the truth
Of events that befell Cu in the lost days of his youth
He planned to fight in tourney but his shield was missing sooth
He could not find it anywhere, nay any other sleuth
A kindly lady gave up hers and so he took the field
But his helm was hungry and his skin it ripped and peeled
With cloth he blotted up the blood, and took up sword to wield
But marshal said, “Ah hell no, son, this battle you must yield.”
So Quilliam, king, then came to him and offered royal helm
Cu, so honoured, fought so well his foes were overwhelmed
Feeling bold he faced one more among leafing oaks and elm
And then fate struck a nasty blow now known across the realm
As battle raged, our Cu felt odd, and marshals called a hold
For now a piece of armour lay upon the grassy wold
It was his cup upon the ground, now rocking where it rolled
How it came free we’ll never know, for no one has been told
Cu then turned to free his head but the helm was stuck quite tight
It took combined the strength of three—the king, baron and knight—
To pull and wrench the helmet off, and end poor Cu’s sad plight
And allow him to pick up his cup, which like his face, was white.