The Wicker Man Edit

A child is reported missing on your island.

A distinguished Victorian scientist, agronomist, free thinker.

A heathen, conceivably, but not, I hope, an unenlightened one.

A holy sacrifice will be offered up jointly to Nuada,

A little child is even better, but not nearly as effective

A man who has come here as a fool.

A man who has come here with the power of a king

A man who would come here as a virgin.

A man who would come here of his own free will.

A martyr's death.

A missing child is always trouble.

Accept our offering!

Accept our sacrifice and make our blossoms fruit.

After all, what girl would not prefer the child of a god

Ah, there's your transport.

All over the earth.

All right.

And after the same manner he also took the cup

And as a Christian, I hope for resurrection.

And as a result of this worship,

And began to change things.

And children dancing naked!

And controlled your every thought and action since you arrived.

And even if you kill me now,

And I am merely your humble acolyte.

And I will charge you with obstruction.

And I will demand a full inquiry takes place

And if anybody, including you, stands in my way,

And it's Rowan. Rowan and the crops failed!

And may I ask,

And next year, no one less than the king of Summerisle himself will do.

And now I find that there is a grave.

And now, for our more dreadful sacrifice

And of a somewhat more serious offering.

And out he comes. There. Now, that didn't hurt much, did it?

And that is her desk, isn't it?

And the ministers fled the island, never to return.

And the warm Gulf Stream that surrounded it.

And then process through the village and the countryside,

And there is brawling in bars, there is indecency in public places,

And there is corruption of the young, and now I see it all stems from here.

And to Avellenau, the beloved goddess of our orchards,

And to rely on it and to appease it where necessary.

And when he had given thanks,

And who but a fool would do that?

And ye shall all die...

And you are the biggest liar of all!

And you can wrap it up any way you like. You are about to commit murder.

And you must be the policeman from the mainland.

And, believe me, Miss Rose, that is a promise.

Animals are fine, but their acceptability is limited.

Another sacrifice for Aphrodite, Willow.

Anyone'd think you didn't want to get better.

Apart from the profuse source of wiry labour that it promised,

As our painstaking researches have revealed.

As promised to us by Our Lord, Jesus Christ!

As promised to us by Our Lord, Jesus Christ.

As symbolising the generative force in nature.

As taking place in the 20th century.

As the right kind of adult.

At first, I'm told there is no such child.

Ave. Aye.

Aye, aye, aye, for everybody.

Aye, aye, it's very nice.

Aye, aye, well, we'll see about that.

Aye, from a can, I suppose.

Aye, it's just most of the food I've had,

Aye, that's right. Sergeant Howie, West Highland constabulary.

Aye, we have one taken at the end of every summer.

Aye.

Be made aware that here the old gods aren't dead.

Because our crops failed last year.

Because the truth is withered away from the sons of men!

Before marriage.

Broad beans, in their natural state, aren't usually turquoise, are they?

Broome, would you kindly show the Sergeant out?

But don't you see, I'll be missed? They'll come looking for me!

But forgive me. I must get back to my girls. Good morning to you.

But I must remind you, sir, that despite everything you've said,

But it is we who have found you and brought you here,

But later, when the trees starting fruiting, it became a very different matter.

But Rowan is not dead, they've got her hidden somewhere.

But t they are...are naked.

But that of our crops.

But there's no record of Rowan Morrison's death,

But what of the true god

But you will be revered and anointed as a king.

But you will sit with the saints among the elect.

But, of course, to begin with,

By giving them back their joyous old gods,

By representing the law.

By the route which has become sacred to our rite.

C could I have a word with you, please, Miss?

Can I do anything for you, Sergeant?

Can you not see? There is no sun god.

Can't you hear him croaking?

Certainly. Girls, open your desks and take out your exercise books.

Cheer up. Food isn't everything in life, you know.

Chop! Chop! Chop!

Come on. It's through a big tunnel.

Come up, Ash Buchanan.

Come.

Course I do.

Cut some capers, man. Use your bladder!

Dear God in Heaven, even these people can't be that mad.

Dear little Rowan.

Desire shall fail!

Did you come over in that aeroplane that I saw flying round?

Did you find the girl?

Do sit down, Sergeant.

Do you have authority?

Do you mean to say you teach the children this stuff?

Don't you see that killing me is not going to bring back your apples?

Down to the beach below the stones,

Enjoy yourself... and him.

Essentially the face of a man incredulous of all human good.

Everywhere I go on this island, it seems to me I find degeneracy.

For a missing child.

For the childish imagination.

For the first time since my grandfather came here.

For those who command the fruit of the Earth.

For you have accepted the role of king for a day,

From Lord Summerisle himself.

From sheep and sea.

Fruit is not meant to be grown on these islands. It's against nature.

Game? What game?

Get out of my way.

Girls, could I have your attention, please?

Girls, get on with your reading.

Give me a glass of whiskey, please.

Go on, man. Tell them. Tell them it won't!

Good afternoon, Sergeant Howie.

Good bye.

Good day to you, sir. I'm the harbour master.

Good day.

Good morning, Sergeant!

Good morning, Sergeant.

Good, good!

Hail the Queen of the May!

Hail, god of the seas!

Hares?

Have a good flight, then!

Have I made myself quite clear?

Have it transported to the mainland for a pathologist's report.

He broke it and said,

He brought me up the same way,

He had his chance, and in the modern parlance, he blew it.

He's dead. He can't complain.

He's most particular who lands here.

Hear ye the words of the Lord!

Heathens! Bloody heathens!

Hello, sir! Have you lost your bearings?

Hello.

Hello. You're back early.

Her soul, of course, may even now...

Here you are, you can fill in the ears in grey.

Here, right.

Here, we do not use the word...

Here's your sweet for being a brave girl. Which one would you like?

Hey, you come back here!

Himself the son of a virgin, impregnated, I believe, by a ghost.

Hmm.

How did she die?

How do you do?

How formidably benevolent he seems.

I am a Christian,

I am going to search every house in this place during the next few hours,

I am here to investigate the disappearance of a young girl...

I am not obstructing you, Sergeant.

I do not wish to be disturbed.

I don't know the face either. Do you know her, Kenny?

I don't know. I don't know anything about her. Nothing.

I don't like it here. They're coming. You know what they're going to do?

I don't like to use it on him, really.

I don't need it.

I doubt it, seeing you're all raving mad.

I expect they've all been exported.

I expect you'll be going back today.

I expect you'll be going home tonight?

I found that in Rowan Morrison's grave.

I have a photograph here... Excuse me.

I have come here from the mainland

I I l...just wanted to know why, that's all.

I I'm sorry.

I invited you.

I know it will.

I know your crops failed. I saw the harvest photograph.

I know, but with the Hand of Glory there's no telling when you wake.

I make no such distinction.

I mean, y y you've got f f fake biology, fake religion.

I must say, you are a gallant fellow, Sergeant.

I need to get to my plane.

I need your permission to exhume her body,

I said, come back here!

I see you plant trees on most of the graves here.

I subsequently discover that there is no death certificate.

I suppose you've been getting drunk at your own bar.

I suspect murder and conspiracy to murder.

I tell you no.

I then find that there is, in fact, but that she has been killed.

I think I could turn and live with animals.

I think I'll manage, my lord, but it does seem to shrink a little each year.

I think Rowan Morrison was murdered

I think you all ought to know that I am here on official business.

I think you'd better come with me.

I thought you were gonna come and see me last night.

I trust the sight of the young people refreshes you.

I trust we aren't going to have to let out your costume again this year.

I understand you take the harvest festival photographs every year.

I understand you're looking for a missing girl.

I warn you, one more lie out of you,

I warn you, you're obstructing a police officer.

I was unaware that the police had any authority in matters of education.

I was under the impression I'd already given it to you.

I would like to speak to you outside, Sergeant.

I'd be most grateful if you'd let me know.

I'd like to see the school register, please.

I'd like to see your index of deaths, please.

I'd stay there until tonight, if I was you!

I'm afraid it can't be done, sir! This is private property!

I'm afraid you have to get permission from Lord Summerisle.

I'm afraid you'll have to have a search warrant or permission

I'm afraid you'll have to have Lord Summerisle's authority.

I'm afraid you'll just have to bear with me, won't you?

I'm away to change. We can't do without Punch.

I'm confident your suspicions are wrong, Sergeant.

I'm engaged to be married.

I'm making inquiries about your daughter. We understand that she's missing.

I'm quite obviously not going to get back to the mainland tonight,

I'm sorry. It was worse than I remembered it.

I'm sure I would've seen them.

I'm sure Rowan is most happy with it. Do you not think so, Lord Summerisle?

If any of the children had been interfering with it,

If Rowan Morrison existed, we would know of her.

If she existed, we would know her.

If the crops fail, Summerisle,

If you don't cooperate with me here and now,

If you know where she is, I beg you to tell me now before it's too late.

In her grave. Your lordship is a justice of the peace.

In order that we may furnish them with renewed power

In that case, you must go ahead.

In the Green Man.

In the hope that the god of fire will make them fruitful.

In the last century, the islanders were starving.

In the name of God, think what you're doing!

In there, sir.

Into the affairs of this heathen island.

Is no longer used for Christian worship,

Is that the girl?

Is to offer to our god of the sun and to the goddess of our orchards

Isn't it there with the others?

It is I who will live again, not your damned apples.

It is our most earnest belief that the best way of preventing this

It is the image of the penis,

It is the Lord who hath laid waste your orchards!

It is time to keep your appointment with The Wicker Man.

It must be thirsty work, asking all those questions, eh?

It stems from the filth taught here in this very schoolroom.

It was addressed to me personally on the mainland.

It was only eight months ago. Surely you remember if it was that girl or not.

It'll do that poor sore throat good.

It's a game of chance, remember.

It's been a great pleasure meeting a Christian copper.

It's disgusting.

It's Holly. Well done!

It's most important that each new generation born on Summerisle

It's nothing personal.

It's rather humdrum work, I'm afraid.

It's sacrilege!

It's the "Rites and Rituals of May Day", chapter five. I won't be long.

Jesus!

John Barleycorn.

Jumping over bonfires?

Just that I don't believe in it.

Let me not undergo the real pains of hell, dear God, because I die unshriven.

Like our neighbours today, they were scratching a bare subsistence

Literally, as Miss Rose would doubtless say in her assiduous way,

Little Rowan loved the March hares.

Lord Summerisle!

Lovely March hares. Can I help you?

M, M, M, M...

Meanwhile, I'll write her name over there on the blackboard.

Mighty god of the sun, bountiful goddess of our orchards,

Minister?

Miss, I hope you don't think that I can be made a fool of indefinitely.

Miss, you can be quite sure that I shall report this to the proper authorities.

Miss...

Missing? My daughter?

Mr Lennox, you were among the people to whom I showed the photograph

Mr MacGreagor,

Mrs Morrison, I don't know if you know it or not,

My daughter Willow will show you to your room.

My father continued out of...love.

Myrtle, do you, erm... do you know Rowan?

Myrtle, say hello.

Naturally. It's much too dangerous

Need to tell his lordship, aye.

Next year you're going to have to have another blood sacrifice?

Next year your people will kill you on May Day.

No apples? On an island famous for its fruit and vegetables?

No matter what you do,

No, cannae say I know her.

No, I meant from his lordship.

No, I never saw her before.

No, no, dear God! No, Christ!

No, no, it's not. Apparently it's been broken or damaged in some way.

No, no, never seen her before.

No, she doesn't belong here at all. Johnnie?

No, she's not May's.

No, sir, it does not refresh me.

No, thank you, not just now.

No, well, I can't say I'm very surprised.

No! No!

No. Has anyone been here?

Not one of them is 'respectable'...

Not one of them kneels to another,

Not the way you feel.

Not to my knowledge, Sergeant.

Now, all of you, just wait and listen to me.

Now, do any of you recognise either the name or the photograph?

Now, don't be frightened. I'm a police officer.

Now, I am a police officer.

Now, I wonder what you'll be wanting for afters?

Now, if any of you can give me any idea as to her whereabouts,

Now, in he goes!

Now, it is my intention tomorrow to return to the mainland

Now, now, what are you saying? You're saying she's not from the island?

Now, sir, if I may have your permission to exhume the body of Rowan Morrison.

Now, sir, what of him?

Now, those children out there,

Now, uh, Daisy,

Now, wait!

Now...

O god of the sea, I offer you this ale as a libation,

Och, you don't want to let them worry you.

Of certain new strains of fruit that he had developed.

Of course we've got May. She keeps the post office in the high street.

Of the West Highland constabulary.

Oh, can I help you?

Oh, God!

Oh, God! Oh, Jesus Christ!

Oh, God.

Oh, I'm firstly a chemist, secondly a photographer.

Oh, May! She quite slipped my memory.

Oh, my God! Christ!

Oh, no, I don't keep copies.

Oh, sorry.

Oh, well, on May Day, I'd better take you out myself.

Oh, what is all this?

Oh, yes. They failed, all right. Disastrously so.

On the far side of the green.

On these islands for generations past?

One should always be open to the regenerative influences.

Only as a comparative religion.

Only if the ground is consecrated to the Christian belief.

Only, make sure you are ready for tomorrow's tomorrow.

Or 'unhappy'...

Or to his own kind that lived thousands of years ago.

Our most sacred god of the sun,

Parthenogenesis.

Perhaps it's just as well that you won't be here tomorrow,

Perhaps you would be good enough to explain matters to his lordship.

Personally, I think it makes a very lovely transmutation.

Play the fool. That's what you're here for.

Please.

Please.

Principally, we persuaded you to think

Punch, one of the great fool victims of history.

Quickly.

Rachel and Benjamin...

Really, Daisy. You've been told often enough.

Really, you can hardly blame them.

Reincarnation than resurrection.

Religious?

Reproduction without sexual union.

Resurrection, if you like.

Right where you'd expect it to be, in the earth.

Rowan Morrison is a schoolmate of yours, isn't she?

Rowan Morrison.

Rowan, darling! Come on, now.

Sacrifice.

Sergeant Howie, I think that...

Sergeant Howie, West Highland police.

Sergeant, if I were you, I would go back to the mainland.

She doesn't belong to this island.

She must be at least 13 or 14, surely.

She runs and plays there all day.

She's a hare. Rowan's a hare. She has a lovely time.

She's either dead, or she's not dead.

She's not a bit like the girl in your photograph.

Shh!

Shocks are so much better absorbed with the knees bent.

Show the Sergeant to his room, would you?

Sir, have these children never heard of Jesus?

So he spent his time instead turning the whole village upside down.

So I wondered if you had a room and a bite of supper I could have.

So that Rowan Morrison has simply returned

So whether it is still a churchyard is debatable.

So, with typical mid Victorian zeal, he set to work.

Some things in their natural state have the most vivid colours.

Stop interfering in things that are no concern of yours.

Suit yourself.

Suited to local conditions.

Summerisle, you know it won't.

Surely you mean to Aphrodite?

Tea? Hares don't have tea, silly.

Thank you, Myrtle.

Thank you.

Thank you.

Thank you.

Thank you.

Thank you.

Thank you.

Thank you. Are these harvest festival photographs?

Thanks.

That can stand by and see your own child slaughtered?

That I believe in the life eternal,

That is good, for believing what you do,

That it was possible to induce here the successful growth

That must not happen again this year.

That Rowan Morrison was being held as a sacrifice

That which also I delivered onto you.

That you may bestow upon us in the year to come

That'll make you sleep, my pretty Sergeant.

That's a rowan.

That's her name.

That's it.

That's more like it!

That's not May's daughter, though!

That's right. She's not from here.

That's what his lordship told me, sir. Would you please come this way?

The barren island would burgeon and bring forth fruit in great abundance.

The best way of accomplishing this, so it seemed to him,

The blossom came, but the fruit withered and died on the bough.

The building attached to the ground in which the body lies

The children find it far easier to picture

The day of death and rebirth.

The farmhouse soup, the potatoes, broad beans, all come out of a can.

The game of the hunted leading the hunter.

The game's over.

The laird said we're to take no chances, didn't he?

The little old beetle goes round and round, always the same way, you see,

The Lord Jesus, the same night in which he was betrayed, took bread,

The most acceptable sacrifice that lies in our power.

The mother's name is May Morrison.

The photo was in this letter, posted here on Summerisle.

The poor wee lassie's navel string, of course.

The rebirth, sadly, will not be yours,

The rich and diverse fruits of your kingdom.

The sacrifice of the willing king, like virgin fool, will be accepted.

The salmon of knowledge.

The soul returns to trees, to air,

Then in 1868, my grandfather bought this barren island

Then why in God's name do you do it, girl?

There aren't any. The plane wouldn't start.

There is no goddess of the fields.

There will be no traces. Bring him up, Oak.

There. He's got your horrid old sore throat now, hasn't he, poor creature?

There's hardly any produce.

There's no body.

There's the girl. Her name is Rowan Morrison.

They are so placid and self contained.

They do not lie awake in the dark and weep for their sins.

They do not make me sick, discussing their duty to God.

They never learn anything of Christianity?

They will not fail.

They worked for him because he fed them and clothed them,

They?

They'll be arrested as accomplices to murder.

They're jumping through the flames

They're just a wee bit late with the headstone.

They've given you girls five minutes start, haven't they?

Think what you're doing! Think!

Think! Just think what you're doing!

This is a police matter.

This is our Myrtle. She was nine last Thursday.

This is Sergeant Howie, a policeman from the mainland,

This year at the procession's end, as has already been proclaimed,

Those rotting bodies are a great stumbling block

Till he ends up right up tight to the nail, poor old thing.

To be offended by the sight of our May Day celebrations here.

To fire, to water, to animals.

To investigate the disappearance of a young girl.

To jump through the fire with your clothes on.

To love nature and to fear it,

To quicken the growth of our crops.

To reverence the music and the drama and the rituals of the old gods.

To that of some acne scarred artisan?

To the life forces in another form.

To whose glory churches and monasteries have been built

Under circumstances of pagan barbarity,

Up, up, up,

Up, up, up! up! up!

Very perplexing for you.

Very well, girls. That's enough. Now it's time to pay attention to me.

Wake up, Sergeant.

Was the unique combination of volcanic soil

Was to rouse the people from their apathy

We believe that when the human life is over,

We can escape through the cave. I know the way.

We carry death out of the village!

We carry death out of the village!

We carry death out of the village!

We carry death...

We confer upon you a rare gift these days,

We don't commit murder up here. We're a deeply religious people.

We don't much relish strangers around today!

We don't want him butting in. Go on, light it up.

We seem to have lost our torch bearing friends.

We shall all reassemble outside the town hall at 3:00 sharp,

Welcome, fool.

Well, as you can see.

Well, don't you understand that if your crops fail this year,

Well, I'll just have to find Rowan Morrison myself.

Well, no, not exactly. Erm...

Well, thank you for your help.

Well, that depends.

Well, that's it, the crops failed.

Well?

Wh what religion c c can they possibly be learning,

What attracted my grandfather to the island,

What do you mean, "right kind of adult"?

What do you think could've happened?

What happened to last year's photograph?

What he did, of course, was to develop new cultivars of hardy fruits

What kind of mother are you,

What my grandfather had started out of expediency,

What on earth's that? It looks like a piece of skin.

What?

What's in here?

What's the matter with you, MacGreagor? You call that dancing?

What's the matter, Mr MacGreagor?

What's the matter? Won't she go?

When he had eaten, saying,

Where are the other coppers?

Where does your minister live?

Where else should it be but hung on her own little tree?

Where is Rowan Morrison?

Where is Rowan Morrison?

Where is Rowan Morrison?

Where is the rotting body of Rowan Morrison?

Where?

Where's the school, please?

Which I can scarcely bring myself to believe

Which is venerated in religions such as ours

Which means, of course, there is no death certificate.

Who will be spending the night with us.

Why don't you have a wee drink?

Why, here she is, what remains of her physically.

Why, of course.

Will you send a dinghy, please?

Will you tell us what it is, please, that the Maypole represents?

Willow MacGreagor, I have the honour to present to you Ash Buchanan.

Willow, show the Sergeant to the dining room.

With ruined churches, no ministers, no priests,

Would you pass that among your customers, please?

Yes.

Yes. I told you, it is what we believe.

You are supposed to be the detective here.

You are the fool, Mr Howie.

You are the Goddess of Love in human form

You are the subject of a Christian country.

You best get on ahead.

You came here to find Rowan Morrison,

You can have peaches and cream, if you like.

You can't change the fact

You can't land here without written permission!

You could maybe get old Sam there to row you to the mainland.

You don't understand, Sergeant. Nobody was lying. I told you plainly.

You don't want to be around here on May Day.

You flatter me, your lordship.

You get Morrisons on Lewis and a few on Mull. I would try there.

You have come of your own free will to the appointed place.

You know her? Her name is Rowan Morrison.

You may well find yourself inside a police cell on the mainland tonight!

You mean, in the churchyard?

You mean, she doesn't exist? She's dead?

You must, of course, do as you see fit, Sergeant.

You see, his experiments had led him to believe

You suspect...foul play?

You will not only have life eternal,

You will stay and have a cup of tea, won't you?

You will undergo death and rebirth,

You, Sergeant, are the right kind of adult,

You, uniquely, were the one we needed.

You'd be back in a week.

You'll find it at the top of the stair on your right.

You'll simply never understand the true nature of sacrifice.

You're liars. You are despicable little liars.

You're very cynical, my lord.

Your crops failed because your strains failed.

Your lordship seems strangely unconcerned.

Your supper's ready, Sergeant.

'This is Summerisle, is it not?' It is, sir!

[All] ...and make our blossoms fruit. Awake, ye heathens, and hold!

[Howie] Morning. Morning.

[Howie] What's that? That's my costume.

[Howie] What's that? The life of the fields.

[Lennox] It's difficult to say. Oh, come on, man!

[Myrtle] it tasted horrid. Never mind, darling. It's all over now.

♪ As does the part that lies between ♪ Her left toe

♪ Cuckoo Through Christ...

♪ Cuckoo, cuckoo And establish me in that bliss...

♪ I put my hand on her breast Willow MacGreagor!

All right, then, anybody. [All] Phallic symbol.

And that's her? Oh, never.

And who lies there? Rowan Morrison.

And you encourage them in this? Actively.

Are you the landlord here? Aye. I'm Alder MacGreagor.

Aye, that's right. What tree is that?

Aye, that's right. What, just to see me?

Aye. You do have a daughter? Yes.

Could you manage that? Aye, I think that can be arranged.

Did I do it right? You did it beautifully.

Did you know her? Yes, of course.

Evening. Hello again.

Everything under control, Oak? Aye, my lord.

Go on. No! No!

Hail the Queen of the May! Hail the Queen of the May!

He brought me up... He brought you up to be a pagan!

He might sleep for days. All the better.

Hello. Evening. Evening.

His lordship is expecting you, sir. Expecting me?

How long has she been dead? Oh, six or seven months.

I'd like my supper now, please. It won't be long, Sergeant.

I'll have an apple. No apples.

I've found her. Splendid.

I've got to try and get you away. [Rowan] Hurry, please.

In a manner of speaking... No! In plain speaking.

Is that her? Yes, that's her.

It is he who hath made them bare! Reverence the sacrifice.

Just give me a glass of whiskey! No wonder he's worn out.

Look, Mummy, I'm drawing a hare. Ah.

May Morrison? You're quite sure? Quite sure.

Miss Rose, I know! I know!

Morning. Isn't it glorious?

Mrs Morrison? Mrs May Morrison? Yes.

Names from the Bible. Yes. They were very old.

No. Take them off!

No. There's your answer, Sergeant.

Now, my friends, to the beach. [All] To the beach!

Oh, well, yes, yes, please. Good.

Oh, what a pity. Would you have a copy of it?

Oh. Hello, Myrtle.

Sergeant Howie, West Highland police. Oh, my!

Sergeant, I've already told you... In the name of God, woman!

Thank you. What's the matter, aren't you hungry?

That's very kind of you. Not at all.

The ones I saw in The Green Man. Yes.

This is my daughter, Willow. Good evening.

This is Sergeant... Oh! Howie.

This way, sir. Goodbye.

Well, isn't it? I think you ought to know...

Well, tell me... Well, now, Sergeant.

What do you think you're doing? Searching every house

What happened to last year's? It got broke.

What time is it? It's past nine.

What? It's very simple. Let me show you.

Whose desk is that? No one's.

Why, so it is. Well, what is it?

Willow! Father?

Yes? [Howie] Take those masks off!

You do? Course I do, silly.

You would say so. Oh, come on, come on.

...accursed!

...as doubtless, the harbour master has already told you by now.

...for the last time,

...or put me out of mind forever.

...our lord.

...which I would like you to pass around amongst yourselves.

...which knows no ending.

...who will today depart from this world.

'A complaint has been registered

'by a resident of this island about a missing child.

'Did you hear me? I'd like a dinghy, if you please.'

'I, as you can see, am a police officer.

'I'm right then. Now, would you send a dinghy, please?'

'Now, that makes it a police matter, private property or not.

'Now, will you send a dinghy, please?'

'Rowan's not dead!'

'to be offended by the sight of our May Day celebrations tomorrow.'

"'a man animal, or hobbyhorse,

"'A man woman, the sinister teaser,

"'And a man fool, Punch,

"'and at the climax of the ceremony lock their swords together

"'but in bad years, when the harvest had been poor...

"'by which the dancers hoped desperately

"'harmless versions of them danced in obscure villages on May Day.

"'in a clear symbol of the Sun.

"'In good times, they offered produce to the gods and slaughtered animals,

"'In Great Britain, for example, one can still see

"'In pagan times, however, these dances were not simply picturesque jigs.

"'most complex of all the symbolic figures,

"'played by the community leader or priest.

"'Primitive man lived and died by his harvest.

"'Relics of these fertility dramas are to be found all over Europe.

"'Six swordsmen follow these figures

"'the privileged simpleton and king for a day.

"'The purpose of his spring ceremonies was to ensure a plentiful autumn.

"'the sacrifice was a human being.

"'Their cast includes many alarming characters:

"'They were frenzied rites ending in a sacrifice

"'to win over the goddess of the fields.

"'who canters at the head of the procession, charging at the girls.

"and drink this wine,

"and guaranteed another successful harvest next year."

"and wearing the still warmed skin like a mantle,

"Benjamin and Rachel Morrison."

"led the rejoicing crowds through the streets.

"Minister"!

"None of us has seen May Morrison's daughter Rowan since last year.

"or as often as you eat this bread

"or burnt to death in a huge sacrificial bonfire.

"Poor old thing"?

"protected by the ejaculation of serpents"?

"She's only 12, and she's been missing from her home for many months."

"Sometimes the six swordsmen ritually beheaded the virgin."

"Sometimes the victim would be drowned in the sea

"Take. Eat.

"The chief priest then skinned the child,

"The priest thus represented the goddess reborn

"This cup is the new covenant in my blood.

"this do in remembrance of me."

"This is my body,

"This, oft as you drink it, in remembrance of me,

"till he comes again."

"which is broken for you,

"you do shew the Lord's death

[♪ Accordion music playing]

[♪ Band starts playing]

[♪ Brass horns play]

[♪ Choir sings "Psalm 23, The Lord's My Shepherd"]

[♪ Lively music]

[♪ Music stops abruptly]

[♪ PAUL GIOVANNI: "Corn Rigs"]

[♪ Plays notes on piano]

[♪ Traditional pipes play]

[♪ Traditional Scottish music]

[All start humming]

[All] Chop! Chop! Chop!

[All] Mighty god of the sun, bountiful goddess of our orchards...

[Animals bleating and braying]

[Animals bleating and braying]

[Approaching drums]

[Cackles]

[Chanting continues]

[Chanting stops]

[Cheering and clapping]

[Cheering and shouting]

[Cheering and whooping]