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This is the only way History Should be told!
A Swashbuckling Comedy!!
All written content by Ted Anthony Roberts is (c) Copyright 2009 The Swashbuckling Press.
THE ADVENTURES OF
Le Marquis D'Iddelly du Squatt
by: Ted Anthony Roberts
If there is any resemblance of any fictional characters in this story
to any persons living or dead:
THEN IT IS A MIRACLE!!
And here is a short description of our hero:
handsome,
a swashbuckler,
having the soul of a poet,
a figure of romance,
daring,
courageous,
a man of iron,
humble,
witty,
a great lover of women,
and an all around good fellow -
and this is just exactly how he imagined himself to be at breakfast this morning!!!!
But, what is he like, really?
Well, friends, this remains to be seen . . . .
P.S.: After reading this, you may want to read a real story to get your brain functioning once again!!!!
Chapter 1
Let us introduce the Marquis
"Your majesties," announces an elderly gentleman, "allow me to introduce to you the famous Marquis D'lddelly du Squatt."
A short, somewhat plump, middle-aged man bows low to their majesties.
"So," says the king, eyeing the Marquis with great astonishment, "this is famous Marquis that I keep hearing about. Extraordinary! Not at all what I was expecting - considering your reputation and all, sir. It is said that you are a Frenchman."
"Exactly so, your majesty." says the Marquis, in consent.
"But how can this be?" asks the queen, a bit confused. "Your name ends with Squatt. Is that not an English name?"
"Quite so, your majesty. D'lddelly is my maiden-name."
"What!" their majesties exclaim in sequence.
"It's true." he continues. "When I married, I took on my wife's name to myself - she being a Marquise and all."
"Oh." says her majesty, a bit wide-eyed - yet not fully convinced.
"And who is this lovely young lady you are with." asks the king, with a large grin, and referring to the lady who is standing at the side of D'Iddelly.
"This is my sister-in-law, your majesty." D'lddelly says, pointing out the beautiful young woman. "Madame du Squatt."
"Did you say Pott?" asks the king, moving his head in closer to make sure he hears correctly.
"No - Squatt." says the Marquis, correcting the king. "Though she often squats on the pot. Ha! Ha! . . . ouch!" he yells in slight pain, as Madame du Squatt elbows him in the ribs, knitting her brows bitterly.
Trying to ignore the strange comment, the king introduces someone nearby. "Marquis, I'd like you to meet the Duke of Merit."
"Ah!" says D'Iddelly, bowing. "Dookey!"
The Duke begins also to bow, but after hearing his title being expressed as "Dookey," he starts eyeing the man with slight contempt.
"And this is the Duke's daughter," continues the king, "Elizabeth."
"Ah!" cries the Marquis, once again, at seeing the lovely young lady standing before him. "It would seem that the Dookey has a Dookette."
And he grabs the lady's hand to kiss!
But just as his lips advance toward the lovely hand, his head whips to it so fast, that as soon as his kiss is being delivered, a white cloud of powder issues forth from his wig, landing directly onto the young girl's face - making her appear as white as a ghost! She can say nothing - but her mouth comes wide open, and her eyes bulge to their extent! And everyone who is near-by holds their breath with astonishment and bewilderment - and they discreetly take a step backwards.
As soon as the Marquis raises his head back from her hand, he notices the snow-white face of the young girl. "My dear," says the Marquis to her, in an undertone, trying not to embarrass her in front of everyone else, "allow me to point out to you that it may be best not to use so much powder on your face the next time you're doing your toilet. It may help your looks a little better."
"Marquis!" yells the queen. "I think you have used a little too much powder on your wig this morning."
Turning around toward the Queen with a very blank look on his face, D'Iddelly says: "I have no idea what you are talking about, your majesty. I have no powder on my wig."
At this, the small assembly once again falls silent, looking at each other in confusion.
"I hear, sir," ventures the Duke of Merit to the Marquis, "that you are quiet an extraordinary fencer."
"Who, sir?" asks D'lddelly.
"You, sir." answers the Duke.
"Me, sir?"
"Yes, you, sir."
"Really, sir."
"Yes, sir."
"I see, sir . . . . Who was that you said, sir?"
"Why, you, sir."
"You addressing me, sir?"
"Yes, you, sir."
"Really, sir?"
"Yes, you, sir."
"I don't think so, sir."
"Really, sir?"
"I believe not, sir."
"Cannot be so, sir."
"You don't say, sir."
"I do say, sir."
"I see, sir."
"And admit, sir?"
There is another small moment of silence, while everyone eagerly awaits the reply.
"Accept what, sir?" asks the Marquis, knitting his brows in utter confusion.
"That it is true, sir." continues the Duke.
"True about who, sir?"
"That it is true about you, sir."
"Who, me, sir?"
"Yes, you, sir." says the Duke, impatiently, while emphasizing the word "you!"
"Me? . . . . For what, sir?"
"For what we are discussing, sir."
"Oh, I see, sir."
"And finally admit it, sir?"
"Yes, sir."
"GREAT!, sir." The Duke concludes, relieved.
There is another moment of silence, while everyone is admiring the Marquis because of his admittance.
"I accept what, sir?" asks the Marquis of the Duke, still knitting his brows.
And yet - another moment of silence!
"Oh - never mind, sir!" says the Duke, disgusted.
"Very well, sir." ends D'Iddelly, raising his brows and shoulders, and shaking his head a bit.
The king brakes into the conversation: "Yes, Marquis, we have all heard what a great fencer that you are."
"Oh! A fencer. Is that what the Dookey has been talking about?" Then he turns to the Duke with a slight frown: "Why didn't you say so in the first place?"
The Duke opens his mouth - flabbergasted!! - and allows a sigh of disgust to escape himself.
"Yes, a fencer." continues D'lddelly, looking back at the king. "I must admit, I have a fair hand at it."
"You're being modest, sir." says the Queen. "We hear that you are the best fencer in
"Oh, I wouldn't go that far . . . .” says the Marquis, giggling a little. “Well, maybe in
"And perhaps you would like to demonstrate with me, sir?" says the Duke, quiet to the point of impatience.
"What . . . now?" asks the Marquis, surprised.
"Unless you are afraid!"
"Afraid of fencing? You cannot be serious, Dookey. I have fenced hundreds of times!"
"Hundreds?" asks the Duke, a bit wide-eyed.
"Give or take a couple hundred."
"Then you must indeed be good!" says the Duke, worried.
"Well," admits the Marquis, grinning, while shaking his head proudly, "I cannot complain."
The Duke seems hesitant.
The Marquis starts whispering in his sister-in-law's ear: "I cannot believe that these people are making such a big deal about putting up a few fences. I have been building fences for happy homes for many years."
"Be easy with them, Marquis," Madame du Squatt whispers back to him, "they are city-folk, what do they know?"
