It’s the year 1192, and Richard the Lion-Heart has been imprisoned by the Holy Roman Emperor on his way back from his Crusade in Palestine. Philip, Richard’s former lover and current nemesis, has an opportunity to prevent Richard from reaching home and resuming their constant wars. As Philip plans his next move – wondering if he can win Richard back, or keep him locked up for good – the integrity of his own mind and the safety of Europe hangs in the balance ... I first became interested in writing about the 12th century while trying to make sense of our war in Iraq. Muslim accounts described Americans as “crusaders." I wondered how many Americans had even heard of the Crusades. If they had, would anyone consider our actions in a historical context that included medieval France?
My reading led me to larger questions about what motivates leaders to go to war in the first place. Is it ever the reason they present in public? Is it even the reason they present to themselves in private? And what about the rank and file – what motivates a soldier to follow his leader into war? Does he ever really know, or are there just various pieces of personal and political propaganda that he chooses to believe, when belief itself becomes imperative?
These questions came into focus while reading about the Third Crusade and its aftermath, when Richard the Lion-Heart and Philip Augustus, the kings of England and France, tried to recapture Jerusalem from the Muslims. Richard and Philip were in the final throes of their affair – they had already made love and waged war against each other many times. I wondered why they would take their contentious relationship east, putting a hundred thousand of their own men at risk.
I am currently looking for a director, dramaturg, and actors who are as excited about this project as I am and would like to workshop this play. |
Included in the Playwrights' Center New Play Gallery.
PHILIP AUGUSTUS Richard will be free soon. Would you return to the constant battles we had beforehand? Normandy. Brittany. Anjou. How shall we count the cost? In men or lands? Or the days spent gaining, losing, and fighting for them all over again? Or the hours spent outfitting soldiers who don’t return? Or the taxes not collected, or the prayers not said, or the art not made while we’re mobilized or engaged or clawing our way home again – Can you recall a single moment when we were free from this nightmare!?
There were the nights themselves, of course, with their fears, knowing all the things we fought and died for might come to nothing the next campaign season. Remember, my chamberlain, the cost of doing nothing?
After living like that for years, you couldn’t blame a man for trying something rash, sailing to Palestine, hoping things would improve with a change of scenery. That if we fought side by side Richard might learn to love us again. It wasn’t unreasonable, was it? Even if I had to ... finesse a reason to get the soldiers there.
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