REX:		Fear.  Fear foul and fetid, full fear, felt full through.
		On shore now, washed with waves most high and fierce
		Our crew, our trekkers from Old World to New,
		Once sconced in beds with dreams of better lives
		Now shiver, shocked and soaken where hope flew.
		The clouds, whose promise did give hope to all,
		Now threaten, with a fist of sullen hue,
		To smash and crush and hurl the chunks away
		That bark'd were whole and with sail bellied true.
		The lure, a land where hope is new, where life
		And love and promised prosper buttled we
		Who gambled all on western passage prized.
		No fetters, nor proscriptions hinder us,
		We claim the freedom others us deprived.

ENTER BRENDAN, FARMER TO THE COLONY

BRENDAN:	Hail, Captain Mundi.

REX:		Farmer Brendan, ho.  What news?

BRENDAN:	Some luck, my lord, but though our lives are spared,
		The kine and sheep have suffered deathly death.

REX:		No !  Say tis not so !

BRENDAN:	'Tis not so, you say I say, but i' faith I lie, for lo, tis so.

REX:		Good jester o' the barnyard, be cow-ful with our seeds.

BRENDAN:	My pine-clad heels and daughter spreads her hands,
		Protecting nubs of life that sprout this land
		And feed the cast-offs from our foundered ship,
		The cast of our founder's colonial dream.

REX:		Ah and ah again, and fie but that
		This new world venture'd see a new world time,
		This hundredweight of years grows old, stone cold.
		Bold, bold let us be, as fifteen hundred
		Dies and a new millenium takes hold.

BRENDAN:	Sirrah, my brain heats overmuch and boils.
		A clever man you be, I see you are
		Too wise for me.  To bed for morrow's toils.

REX:		Anon, costermaster, sleep deep, sleep well.

EXEUNT BRENDAN, STAGE LEFT

		Pale moon, quick light, to bright my brain or swoon,
		This journey from well known to frightful new,
		My monstrous seed set in the verdant loam	
		Of chartless realms that, hope, will soon be home.
		My shoulders bear the beastly weight of faith,
		From England's pleasant shore so green yet dull,
		This course we chose, to our own selves be true,
		To make this world, a world so blest for few,
		Not ...

ENTER ARVED AND PEWSILDER, W/VARIOUS OTHERS

ARVED:		Oy, the majestic presence ponders our pitiful plight.

PEWSILDER:	Speed, man, snare those sunny sonnets before they take flight.

ARVED:		Our futures we have placed in thy wanky hands, good liege.

PEWSILDER:	We followed thee on much heralded terms and water-tight covenants.

ARVED:		And paid good gold, our houses sold, our commerce placed in peril 
		for this game.

CROWD:		MUTTERING

PEWSILDER:	What's afoot, if not thy precious backside much abuséd?

ARVED:		Lead us to a new land, a new life, a new world, a new millenium ?

CROWD:		MORE MUTTERING

		Fie on thee !  Ah !  Ha !  Zounds !  Yoicks ! Gadzooks !  Begorrah !  
		Forsooth !

PEWSILDER:	A colony ?  This cultish cargo cartooned upon the clyffes, cleft 
		'tween desires, but caution, beware our augury.

ARVED:		Yes, warning thee, 'Rex' Finis Mundi.

CROWD:		LAUGH

ARVED:		Your liege will lie safe, but be on tenterhooks, we watch and wait, 
		and dog you may end.

CROWD: 		RAUCOUS AND BAWDY LAUGHTER

PEWSILDER:	Or dog's breakfast.

ARVED:		Finis Mundi will finish finnan haddie.

CROWD:		MORE LAUGHTER

REX:		Your jibes and joviality look good
		Upon the phizogs of a curséd crew,
		Shipwreckt hereon, a shore both cruel and new ...

CROWD:		New, new, new, new, new, new won't do.

REX:		In sooth, I harp unpleasantly 'pon this,
		So as a resolution new ...

CROWD:		Aaaahhh ?

REX:		Newwwwww...tworthy ...

CROWD:		Aaaahhh ...

REX:		So as a resolution noteworthy On virgin rock, I vow that presently,
		I will replace the future and the past.
		My lexic wanderings be far and few,
		Will not contain the caustic letters ...

CROWD:		Noooooo !

REX:		Good friends, your jolly nature bodes us well.
		Our probe fine served by men of wit and mirth
		Speaks truly to this wager's rare success.
		My cohorts, you who serve with selfless ease,
		Make Mundi Town a possibility.
		Nay, possible.  You make my dreams come true !
		Mundi town will blossom for me and you !

CROWD:		What ?  Mundi Town ?  Who made mention 'bout Mundi Town ?

ARVED:		Mundi, Mundi ...

1:		Bah

2:		Da

3:		Bah

1:		Da

2:		Da

3:		Da

PEWSILDER:	Can't trust that guy.

1:		Bah

2:		Da

3:		Bah

1:		Da

2:		Da

3:		Da

ARVED:		Finis Mundi

1:		Bah

2:		Da

3:		Bah

1:		Da

2:		Da

3:		Da

PEWSILDER:	Is this all that you hoped you could buy ?

ARVED:		Oh Finis Mundi, You gave us no warnin', of what was to be

1:		Hah

2:		Ha

3:		Hah

1:		Ha
	
2:		Ha

3:		Ha

PEWSILDER:	That Mundi town was s'posed to be good for you and me.

ARVED:		God's teeth, the weather thickens like a below-deck's fog, there's a 
		chill loose amongst us and I 'low we'll burn most useable wood before 
		the night be through.  I'm off.

PEWSILDER:	Me, too.

CROWD:		And I.

CROWD:		Aye, and I, too.

CROWD:		And me 'n' you.

EXEUNT STAGE LEFT

REX:		A quiver, brrr.  Too right these mongrels be.
		Storm's shelter from the winds and icy blasts
		Will first thing's first be 'rected in the wode.
		Anon and to my daughter's waiting breast,
		Where Finis finds bold comfort and deep rest.

EXIT STAGE LEFT THE BLASTED HEATH, THREE NATIVE SHAMEN GATHER 
ROUND A SMOKELESS FIRE

ALL:		Alamacka ching,
		Alamacka chow,
		Alamacka ching ching chow chow chow.

		Boom-a-lacka
		Boom-a-lacka

		Sis-boom-bah !
		Beothucks !  Beothucks !
		Rah ! Rah ! Rah !

FIRST SHAMAN:	White ghost here now.

SECOND SHAMAN:	Smashed canoe too.

THIRD SHAMAN:	Braves loin'd in tents.

FIRST SHAMAN:	Squaw with bush lips.

SECOND SHAMAN:	No good coming.

THIRD SHAMAN:	No good coming.

ALL:		Trouble troubleboats in rubble,
		Braves and squaws
		Live life in double.

RABBIT AND PARTRIDGE RUN ACROSS STAGE

FIRST SHAMAN:	Fowl is hare and hare is foul.
		A hare !  A hare !

SECOND SHAMAN:	Finis Mundi is here !

ENTER FINIS MUNDI WITH HIS DAUGHTER, BERNADETTE

BERNADETTE:	Pater, father, papa, man of my life,
		Who loved my mother as though she were wife,
		What of this 'prise, this colony unfurled,
		What barmy bug bites you 'bout this New World ?

REX:		Bernadette, don't worry, Bernadette,
		Our venture on this foreign soil is blessed
		E'en though our ship lies crushéd and distressed.
		My dumpling, my own, the light of my life,
		Whom I love as dearly as like a wife,
		Whose buxom charms and fulsome figure full
		Do with its pendulous and meaty dugs
		Attract a father, nay an upright man,
		To fie at custom - heed to nature's plan.

BERNADETTE:	And lo, these berry bushes prove a lure
		To lay and lie and dally most impure
		Where hands are blurs and seeking move about
		To find those places moist most and ready
		As flowers, yes, and rocks and shale and sea
		Clammy this and purple that, seething and popping ...

REX:		Shush and quiet, girl, give nought a cry
		That summons here our nosey wanton crew,
		Who would not understand nor stop to see
		The natural 'traction 'tween you and me.
		Your downy pouty lips.

BERNADETTE:	Oh, Father, no.

REX:		Your knowing swirling tongue

BERNADETTE:	Oh, Father, yes.

REX:		Let's hoist these bloomers, 'dette!

BERNADETTE:	Oh, Father, now!

THIRD SHAMAN:	Ahem.

FIRST SHAMAN:	Ahem, ahem.

SECOND SHAMAN:	Sshh, brothers, let's observe these celebrations 
		of the ghost.

REX:		God's teeth, what be ye ?

SECOND SHAMAN:	Blast.

BERNADETTE:	Oh father !  Wild beasts with speech ?

REX:		Or goblins daubed in maroon to taunt the marooned ?

SHAMEN:	Rickety ax, rickety ax, Rickety ax ax ax.

		Humilacka humilacka
		Ba-doom pish ha !

		Beothucks !  Beothucks !
		Rah !  Rah !  Rah !

FIRST SHAMAN:	First we see you

SECOND SHAMAN:	Gods from far off

THIRD SHAMAN:	Dashed on our shore

FIRST SHAMAN:	Now we see you

SECOND SHAMAN:	Want what we do

THIRD SHAMAN:	Could you be like us, yet be so pale ?

REX:		Carmine skinned with devil's dye,

Mundi Pond.  Mundi Tuesday.  

Rex's daughter described - mustaches, it's a man, or that RFM 
resorts to bumboys.  Arvid and Pewsilder murder Bernadette, one 
of them takes on disguise as her. (Falls in love with RFM and 
vice versa ?)Some men in crew are indeed women, boys find out, 
therefor men get into men's pants; RFM getting in to woman's 
pants,  and it's a man.
The priest.
2nd in command.
Natives