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Deus Vult

Set in the 16th century in southern Bohemia, this poetic play follows the adventures of Kazimir, a cunning rogue who roams the world, assuming the identities of others to conceal his true self.

Книга издана в 2024 году.

***

In the dark of night, midst hills and winding streams,

A beam descends from yonder moon, agleam,

To fall upon the lake so still and pure—

And down it drifts, an angel’s form demure.

She treads in grace, her steps as soft as dew,

Her flowing hair, in waves of chestnut hue,

Loose curls that catch the light, yet soft they lay,

A silent glow that turns the night to day.

Her eyes, a gentle storm of tender grace,

Hold depths as endless as the starry space.

In modest glow, her fair skin pale and light,

A tranquil soul set free into the night.

The birds grow silent, charmed by her descent;

As nature bows, she wades with calm intent.

With bated breath, she slips beneath the lake,

Her spirit one with all the night awake.


I

(Scene: As the sun sets, Kazimir rides into town, dust settling around his horse’s hooves. With a confident stride, he steps into the dimly lit tavern, drawing the curious eyes of the patrons. His presence fills the room as he approaches the bar with a smirk.)

Kazimir

(boisterously, to the barkeep)

“Pour me the finest brew you have!

Tonight, I’ll make this tavern my own path.

Raise a cup to fate, to fire, to thunder!

Know my name—Kazimir, who strikes like no other!”

(The crowd cheers, emboldened by his commanding tone, and they gather close to hear his words, eager to be swept into his infectious energy.)

Kazimir

“Drink up, brothers, do not pause,

Tonight we sing without a cause!

For gold and pleasure both are mine—

The river flows with brimming wine!”

Crowd (chanting back, clinking mugs)

“The river flows with brimming wine!”

(Kazimir raises his glass to a wizened old man at a corner table, who listens with a solemn nod, recognizing a kindred spirit in this stranger’s wild tales.)

Kazimir

“Old man, look up, don’t hide your eyes!

Remember battle, blood, and skies.

Recall those days of steel and flame,

When war was glory, and glory was fame.”

(The old man’s face softens in nostalgia, and a tear forms at the corner of his eye as Kazimir toasts him, his words both honor and memory.)


(Kazimir begins to flirt with the women in the tavern, his eyes gleaming with charm and desire as he shifts between them, his words woven with laughter and seduction.)

Kazimir

(to a woman nearby, with a playful grin)

“Fair maiden with locks of fire and silk,

You could warm my heart, make it quick to tilt.

And you, with eyes as dark as night,

Let me in to see the light.”

(The women blush, giggling, as Kazimir’s flattery drips with mischief and power, drawing them closer to his irresistible presence.)

Kazimir

“My strength, my wealth, all I bring,

Dance now, sing now, let the night swing!

Let’s drink and feast, till dawn has cracked—

Tonight’s a dream we won’t take back!”

*(The music swells, violins and guitars strumming lively chords as the crowd dances, swept up in the heat of the revelry. Kazimir stands at the center, alive with energy, his eyes blazing as he leads them deeper into the night’s pleasures.)

*(Much later, Kazimir heads upstairs with three women by his side, laughter and whispers fading as they slip into a private room. The scene shifts to an intimate setting, where Kazimir’s charm transforms into intensity as they embrace, each touch, each shared look a celebration of the night’s unbridled passion.)

Kazimir

(whispering to one of the women)

“This night is ours, and yours are mine,

Like battle spoils, like ruby wine.

Take what you will, for dawn is near—

But while it lasts, we conquer here.”

*(Their union is fierce and reckless, an indulgence in freedom and momentary delight. Yet with dawn comes the quiet realization, as Kazimir awakens alone in the room, surrounded by discarded clothes and empty bottles.)

(He sits up, the silence almost mocking him, and a familiar hollow feeling settles in his chest. The echoes of the night now feel distant, leaving only a faint trace of what was. Kazimir looks around, speaking softly as if to himself.)

Kazimir

“Once again, alone I rise,

These hollowed walls, no cheering cries.

What glory left, what weight remains

When dawn breaks ties to night’s sweet games?”

(He holds a nearly empty glass, staring into it with a bitter smile, contemplating the emptiness that lingers even after the most extravagant of nights.)

Kazimir

“Fame? Fortune? Empty lies—

What use are tales beneath morning skies?

These walls bear witness, only they see

How shallow the thrill, how cold is the spree.”

(He dresses, gathering his belongings, casting one last look around the room with a resigned expression. The thrill of the night has faded, and he walks out into the morning, carrying the weight of solitude with him.)

(The scene closes on Kazimir, his shadow long in the early light, a lone figure in the quiet morning, moving forward but leaving a piece of himself behind.)


II

(Kazimir arrives at the church in Zlata Koruna, his horse’s hooves echoing in the empty courtyard as he dismounts and steps forward. The heavy oak doors swing open, and he walks inside, the silence enveloping him like a shroud. Incense fills the air, mingling with soft murmurs of prayer.)

Narrator

Upon his steed with silent tread,



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