A Midsummer Night's Dream (5 page)

Early next morning, their wedding ceremony behind them, Theseus and Hippolyta decided to spend the day in the countryside. Strolling through Cottingley Wood in the company of Egeus and a squad of minders, they happened on the place where the four young people lay sleeping.

‘Who're these?' exclaimed Theseus.

‘It's my daughter, Hermia,' cried Egeus, ‘with Lysander, Demetrius and her friend, Helena. What on
earth
are they doing out here?'

‘They were probably celebrating May Day,' said Theseus. ‘They heard Hippolyta and I planned to come this way, and stayed to congratulate us.' He frowned at Egeus. ‘Isn't it today your daughter has to decide whether to obey you and marry Demetrius, or face death or banishment?'

Egeus nodded grimly. ‘It is indeed.'

‘Then we must wake them and know Hermia's decision.'

The youngsters were quickly wakened. Their hearts kicked them in the ribs when they saw who was gazing down at them. Nobody messes with Theseus. They scrambled to their feet, knocking dust and grass from their clothes with their hands. ‘S-s-sorry,' stammered Lysander, ‘we were just…'

‘What puzzles
me
,' interrupted Theseus, ‘is how you and Demetrius can lie down and sleep within a foot of each other, when everybody knows you're bitter rivals.'

Lysander shook his head. ‘This is going to sound weird, but I don't really remember how I got here. I was … Hermia and I were to meet, and we were going to run off where nobody'd ever…'

‘See!' cried Egeus. ‘He admits it – he was going to rob Demetrius of a wife, and me of a daughter.'

‘Yes,' nodded Demetrius. ‘Helena warned me of their plan – I came to intercept them, and Helena followed me. And then…' He broke off, shook his head. ‘And then suddenly I didn't love Hermia any more – I loved Helena. I know that all sounds crazy and I can't explain. It happened, that's all I can say. And I know I'll love Helena for ever.'

Theseus shook his head. ‘Amazing.' He turned to Egeus. ‘I'm sorry, old friend, but
I'm going to have to overrule you. This has turned out so conveniently, I'm inclined to believe some higher power has been at work.' He smiled. ‘Let's scrap this outing, go back to my place – sorry, dear –
our
place, see these loving couples wed and have a party.'

The four young people watched as Theseus, Hippolyta and Egeus faded among the trees, followed by Theseus's minders. When the group had passed from view, they turned dazed expressions on one another.

‘Am I still dreaming,' murmured Demetrius, ‘or did Theseus just invite us to a party at his place?'

‘It's like a
dream
,' whispered Helena. ‘Me and my Demetrius.'

‘We
did
dream, I think,' said Lysander. ‘I can't really remember.'

‘Weddings were mentioned just now,' put in Hermia. ‘I certainly didn't dream
that
, so why don't we make our way to Theseus's, and tell each other our dreams as we go?'

Not far away, Bottom was waking from his dream. He couldn't remember what he'd dreamed, except that it was something seriously weird, with a fairy queen in it. The word Peaseblossom drifted across his mind, and something about a hairy face. All nonsense, of course. He was to play Pyramus in a play though –
that
was real enough. What about his friends? Where were Quince, Flute, Snug, Starveling and Snout? They'd been rehearsing with him, hadn't they – here in the wood? Why had they left him alone? He set off home, muttering under his breath:

‘The ass I am, I have not
always
been; methinks I embraced a fairy queen.'

 

At Quince's place, the players were panicking. Any minute, Philostrate might send for them. As organiser of tonight's festivities, he'd want to see their play, to satisfy himself that it was fit to be performed in front of Theseus, Hippolyta and their high-powered guests.

Snag was, nobody could find Bottom. ‘Have you tried his house?' asked Quince. ‘Is he back yet?'

Starveling shook his head. ‘They've heard nowt from him – maybe he's gone off with the aliens who remodelled his bonce.'

‘That's it then,' groaned Flute. ‘We're stuffed. Can't do the play without him, can we?'

Quince shook his head. ‘Can we heck. Nobody could step in at such short notice.'

There was a knock at the door. Snug came in.

‘Hey, listen – it's not just Theseus and his missus partying tonight. There's two other
couples getting wed, and all
their
guests'll be there as well. Just think, if we'd done
Pyramus and Thisby
in front of
that
lot, there'd have been loads of tips, word-of-mouth recommendations, future bookings. We'd have made it, guys – big time.'

‘Well, there you go,' said Flute. ‘Our big break, and Bottom's blown it.'

‘No, he hasn't,' said a familiar voice. Everybody swung round. Bottom stood grinning in the doorway, wearing his own head. ‘Weird stuff's gone down with me, lads, I can tell you.'

‘Tell us about it,' smiled Quince, who was mightily relieved.

Bottom shook his head. ‘Not now. We've got to get our stuff together, and boogie on down to Theseus's place, so we're ready if Philostrate gives us the word.'

At Theseus's house, Hippolyta was puzzling over the stories that Lysander and the other
young people had told. ‘It's gob-smackingly weird, darling, isn't it?'

‘More weird than true, if you ask me,' growled Theseus. ‘I can't be doing with all this new age, airy-fairy stuff. It's for poets, vegans and save-the-gay-green-whale types in sandals. Give me the real world any time.'

‘What they recall of their experience may
seem
airy-fairy,' argued Hippolyta, ‘but it has caused them to commit to one another in a very responsible way.'

Before her husband could respond, the two young couples appeared.

‘Speak of the devil,' growled Theseus, ‘and here are the newlyweds, full of the joys of spring.' He tried on a smile, turning to them. ‘You're all well, I trust?'

‘We are indeed,' replied Lysander. ‘And we hope the same is true of yourselves.'

‘It is,' Theseus told him, ‘but we've an important decision to take, which is what show to book that'll pass three hours or so
between supper and bedtime?' He glanced around. ‘Where's Philostrate?'

‘I'm here,' answered the organiser.

‘What choices have we, Phil?'

‘I've a variety of acts laid on,' said Philostrate. ‘Here's the list.' He handed Theseus a paper. ‘Just choose whichever you all fancy.'

‘Hmmm.' Theseus studied the list. ‘
Cherry-ripe
, sung by a male soprano to the banjo. Huh! Let him sing to the banjo if he likes – he's not singing to me.'

‘There's a play' said Philostrate. ‘It's ten words long, which makes it the shortest play
I
ever heard of, and even
then
it's ten words too long. It's tedious, the hero dies, and the company's the most shambolic ever to tread the boards.'

‘Who're the players?' asked Theseus.

‘Unemployed youths, thick as two short planks, doing a drama course to pass the time.'

Theseus grinned. ‘Let's give 'em a chance – why not?'

‘No.' The organiser shook his head. ‘Their play's not for a sophisticated gentleman like you, Theseus. I've seen it, it's rubbish.' He shrugged. ‘Unless of course you feel the sheer unmitigated
badness
of the thing might amuse you.'

Theseus looked at him. ‘We'll see it. They're simple people, doing the best they can. That makes it pretty fine, no matter how bad it is. Bring them in.' He turned to his guests. ‘Take your seats, everybody.'

Philostrate returned. ‘They have a prologue, sir.'

Theseus nodded. ‘No problem.'

Quince appeared on stage and recited his prologue. It came across as a bit of a muddle, and the audience was left none the wiser when it was done. Quince bowed and exited. Straight after came a fanfare, and on came Pyramus and Thisby, Wall, Moonshine and
Lion. Quince introduced these characters, then commenced to explain the story of Pyramus and Thisby from start to finish. This done he exited, along with all the characters except Wall.

Snout, playing Wall, then gave his name and told the audience he represented a wall that had a crack in it. ‘This crack,' he explained, ‘is the very crack that Pyramus and Thisby talk to each other through.'

At this point, Starveling came on, playing Moonshine.

‘This man represents Moonshine,' said Wall, ‘because Pyramus and Thisby always met by moonlight.'

Lion now entered, and Wall spelled out the beast's part in the story. In the audience, Theseus leaned across and murmured in Demetrius's ear. ‘Bet you've never met a wall that spoke better than this one, eh?'

Demetrius chuckled. ‘Wittiest partition
I
ever heard, sir.'

These preliminaries being done with, the company commenced to appear according to their cues, and to act out the play. It ran smoothly for the most part, and presently it was time for Lion to perform.

Snug faced the audience and began his prologue. ‘For the purpose of the play, we intend to portray the lion as a fearsome beast…'

Theseus whispered again to Demetrius. ‘Didn't realise lions could be politically correct.'

‘Oh yes,' smiled Demetrius. ‘Political correctness has entered the
mane
-stream – geddit?'

‘I
cat
-egorically deny that,' quipped Lysander.

Everybody groaned.

‘Sssh!' hissed Theseus. ‘Listen to the Moonshine.'

Starveling, lantern in hand, intoned, ‘This lantern represents the moon, and I'm
the Man in the Moon…'

Amused by the ludicrous spectacle before them, the audience was sending everything up.

‘If he's the Man in the Moon,' murmured Theseus, ‘and the lantern's the moon, why isn't he in the lantern?'