And Arthur of Fopwood was charmingly played by Matt (on the right in this photo)
I have never been the adulterous wife before - and was secretly hoping to be found guilty so I could be burned at the stake! :-)
Anthony must be about 6'5" and towers over everyone. When we were arrested and were waiting for the Lords to arrive, he periodically took some lunges at 'Arthur' and I tried to pull him off by his padded jack. He would get exasperated and throw me across the field. I could hear the heartfelt gasps of the women public as I crashed to the ground time after time.
With Anthony throwing me around and dragging me across the field on Saturday I have some LOVELY bruises - finger marks on my arms and compression bruising on my knees.
But it was an almost cathartic experience; having been in a violent marriage I found being chucked around by Anthony (who I could control totally) went some way to cleansing the memories I have carried around for twenty years.
On the Sunday show my beloved 'husband' was more gentle with me, as I had told him my knees were hurting. I told him and the sarge they must help me up from my knees - but make it look like they were hauling me roughly to my feet......and it worked.
'Arthur' recited some of his delightful poetry to me for the pleasure of My Lord's court - and you could hear a wide range of female sighs from the audience as he knelt in front of me, spoke the words and then gallantly kissed my hand. I swear, given half a chance, the women would have trampled me to get to 'Arthur'.
The sighs were cut short as Arthur and I were roughly pulled apart and thrown back on the mercy of My Lord Hungerford.
Let me see - what else is there.....?
Oh yes, when I was handed back to my 'husband' for punishment he hauled me behind a tent and then faked a beating with a switch on the tent canvas. With me screaming at each hit, it was reported to me later that the women in the audience went white. Reality TV eat my dust!
It was cool - painful but cool. I could really get into the part of Mistress Brambles and the following were overheard as I walked the castle grounds later....
'Miss - were you really crying?'
'Did he really hurt you?'
'Look! There's that poor woman........'
I think I'll do that again :-)
Oh, and to answer that eternal question 'why do you do this?' - I offer this wordless answer:
Pembroke Castle at dusk.......does life get any better than this?