A Midsummer Night's Dream by Robert Swindells Page B

we’re supposed to do at Theseus’s wedding reception? Like, what’s it
called
, what’s it
about
, stuff like that? We need to know.’
    Quince nodded. ‘It’s called
The Most Lamentable Comedy and Most Cruel Death of Pyramus and Thisby
.’
    â€˜Terrific,’ said Bottom. ‘I do love a nice snappy title, don’t you?’ Titters from the others. He looked at Quince. ‘So what’s the
dramatis personae
, and who’s playing whom?’
    â€˜
Dramatis personae
?’ sneered Quince. ‘
Whom
? What are you doing, Bottom – practising for mingling with Theseus’s posh guests at the reception?’
    â€˜Am I hummer,’ denied Bottom. ‘There’s nowt wrong with talking the Queen’s English. Just tell us our parts.’
    Quince consulted his notebook. ‘You’re playing Pyramus.’
    Bottom nodded. ‘OK, and what
is
he – a soldier, a dictator or what?’
    â€˜He’s a lover. Dies heroically for love.’
    â€˜Ah, so it’s a tearjerker! Well, I hope these wedding guests bring plenty of Kleenex, ’cause I’ve been known to make
stones
weep. Mind you, I’m cut out more for your ultraviolent roles, really.’
    Quince ignored this, too. ‘Flute,’ he said, ‘you’ll do Thisby.’
    â€˜And what’s he – a knight errant?’ asked Flute.
    â€˜He’s a
she
,’ Quince told him. ‘The woman Pyramus loves.’
    Flute shook his head. ‘I can’t play a woman – I’ve just started growing a beard.’
    â€˜Doesn’t matter,’ said Quince, ‘you’ll bewearing a mask, and you’re good at the pale pink voice – we’ve heard you.’
    â€˜I could play Thisby
and
Pyramus,’ offered Bottom, ‘since I’d be masked.
I
do a good woman’s voice.’
    â€˜No,’ ruled Quince. ‘You’re Pyramus, Flute’s Thisby – it’s settled.’
    â€˜Get on with it then,’ growled Bottom.
    â€˜Starveling?’
    â€˜Present, sir,’ said Starveling.
    â€˜You’re Thisby’s mother. Snout?’
    â€˜What?’ mumbled Snout.
    â€˜You’ll play Pyramus’s father. I’ll do Thisby’s father myself. Snug – you’re the lion.’ Quince closed his notebook and smiled. ‘All done. Any questions?’
    Snug raised a hand. ‘Have you got a copy of the lion’s part I could borrow? I’m a bit slow learning lines.’
    Quince shook his head. ‘You have no lines, Snug. It’s just roaring.’
    â€˜Let
me
play the lion,’ cried Bottom. ‘
I’ll
show you roaring. I’ll roar so loud, Theseus’ll know he’s not the only big noise round here.’
    â€˜Yeah, right,’ growled Quince. ‘But you’ll scare his bride spitless, and he’ll send some of his lads round to rearrange our bones.’
    Bottom shook his head. ‘I don’t
have
to roar loud, Quince. I could roar like a dove, or even a nightingale.’
    Quince sighed. ‘Knock it off, Bottom, for Pete’s sake. You’re playing Pyramus, a gentleman. It’s the perfect part for you.’
    â€˜What sort of beard should I wear?’
    Quince shrugged. ‘Makes no odds. Any sort. You could be cleanshaven, if you like.’ He turned to the others. ‘Listen. Take your parts and learn them by tomorrow night. We’ll meet in the wood, where we won’t be disturbed, and rehearse. We don’t want anybody knowing before the wedding what we’re going to do. Now, I’m off to make a list of props we’ll steal or borrow. Meanwhile, learn your lines off pat, before we meet tomorrow.’

Act Two

    Â 
    Cottingley Wood was known to harbour fairies, and it was the place that the fairy queen, Titania, had chosen to stay while waiting to bless Theseus and Hippolyta on their wedding night. The wood was