ACT 1 SCENE 2
[Enter Quince, Snug, Flute, Snout, and Starveling]
QUINCE: Are we all here?
[Enter Bottom]
BOTTOM: You should call them all by name to make sure we're all here. [Snickers from the others]
QUINCE: There are only 6 of us, including me. It's not that hard to count.
BOTTOM: Shut up. First, good Peter Quince, say what the play treats on, then read the names of the actors, and so grow to a point.
QUINCE: Marry, our play is the most lamentable comedy, and most cruel death of Pyramus and Thisbe.
BOTTOM: Who and who? Lamentable comedy? Huh?
QUINCE: About a guy and a girl who both die.
BOTTOM: Ohhhhh.
QUINCE: Answer as I call you. Nick Bottom, the weaver?
BOTTOM: Ready. Name what part I am for, and proceed.
QUINCE: You, Nick Bottom, are set down for Pyramus.
BOTTOM: Isn't Pyramus a girl?
QUINCE: a-HEM. Pyramus is a lover, that kills himself most gallant for love.
BOTTOM: Oh. That will ask some tears in the true performing of it: if I do it, let the audience look to their eyes; I will move storms, I will condole in some measure. To the rest: yet my chief humor is for a tyrant: I could play Ercles rarely, or a part to tear a cat in, to make all split.
STARVELING: Peter Quince, sir?
QUINCE: Yes, Starveling?
BOTTOM: [totally ignoring Quince and Starveling]
The raging rocks
And shivering shocks
Shall break the locks
Of prison gates;
STARVELING: Does Mr. Bottom always act like this?
BOTTOM: [still totally ignoring Quince and Starveling]
And Phibbus' car
Shall shine from far
And make and mar
The foolish Fates.
QUINCE: Sadly, yes.
BOTTOM: This was lofty! Now name the rest of the players.
QUINCE: Francis Flute, the bellows-mender.
FLUTE: Here, Peter Quince!
QUINCE: Flute, you are going to play Thisbe.
FLUTE: Is Thisbe a knight?
QUINCE: They don't allow girls to be knights, Silly.
FLUTE: [whining] But I don't wanna be a girl! I have a beard!
BOTTOM: No you don't.
FLUTE: Hey!
QUINCE: You can play it in a mask.
BOTTOM: I wanna be Thisbe too! And I'll speak in a monstrous little voice.
QUINCE: Oh boy.
BOTTOM: Thisne, thisne! 'Ah, Pyramus, lover dear! thy Thisby dear, and lady dear!'
QUINCE: No, you [points to Bottom] must play Pyramus, and you [points to Flute] must play Thisbe.
BOTTOM: Go on then.
QUINCE: Robin Starveling, the Tailor.
STARVELING: here, Peter Quince.
QUINCE: Robin Starveling, you must play Thisby's mother. Tom Snout, the tinker.
SNOUT: Here, Peter Quince.
QUINCE: You, Pyramus' father: myself, Thisby's father: Snug, the joiner; you, the lion's part: and, I hope, here is a play fitted.
SNUG: Do you have the Lion's part written?
QUINCE: It's just roaring.
BOTTOM: I wanna be the lion, too! I Will roar like they have never heard before! And the duke will say, let him roar again. Let him roar again!
QUINCE: You will do it too terribly and they would hang us all. Anyway, you are perfect to play Pyramus.
BOTTOM: What beard should I wear?
QUINCE: Whatever one you like. Masters, here are your parts: and I am to entreat you, request you and desire you, to con them by to-morrow night; and meet me in the palace wood, a mile without the town, by moonlight; there will we rehearse, for if we meet in the city, we shall be dogged with company, and our devices known. In the meantime I will draw a bill of properties, such as our play wants. I pray you, fail me not.
BOTTOM: We will meet; and there we may rehearse most obscenely and courageously.
QUINCE: Obscenely?
BOTTOM: Enough. Hold, or cut bowstrings.
[ALL EXIT]
Hah. I decided to write more anyway. La la la.next chapter sometime in the millenium!
[Enter Quince, Snug, Flute, Snout, and Starveling]
QUINCE: Are we all here?
[Enter Bottom]
BOTTOM: You should call them all by name to make sure we're all here. [Snickers from the others]
QUINCE: There are only 6 of us, including me. It's not that hard to count.
BOTTOM: Shut up. First, good Peter Quince, say what the play treats on, then read the names of the actors, and so grow to a point.
QUINCE: Marry, our play is the most lamentable comedy, and most cruel death of Pyramus and Thisbe.
BOTTOM: Who and who? Lamentable comedy? Huh?
QUINCE: About a guy and a girl who both die.
BOTTOM: Ohhhhh.
QUINCE: Answer as I call you. Nick Bottom, the weaver?
BOTTOM: Ready. Name what part I am for, and proceed.
QUINCE: You, Nick Bottom, are set down for Pyramus.
BOTTOM: Isn't Pyramus a girl?
QUINCE: a-HEM. Pyramus is a lover, that kills himself most gallant for love.
BOTTOM: Oh. That will ask some tears in the true performing of it: if I do it, let the audience look to their eyes; I will move storms, I will condole in some measure. To the rest: yet my chief humor is for a tyrant: I could play Ercles rarely, or a part to tear a cat in, to make all split.
STARVELING: Peter Quince, sir?
QUINCE: Yes, Starveling?
BOTTOM: [totally ignoring Quince and Starveling]
The raging rocks
And shivering shocks
Shall break the locks
Of prison gates;
STARVELING: Does Mr. Bottom always act like this?
BOTTOM: [still totally ignoring Quince and Starveling]
And Phibbus' car
Shall shine from far
And make and mar
The foolish Fates.
QUINCE: Sadly, yes.
BOTTOM: This was lofty! Now name the rest of the players.
QUINCE: Francis Flute, the bellows-mender.
FLUTE: Here, Peter Quince!
QUINCE: Flute, you are going to play Thisbe.
FLUTE: Is Thisbe a knight?
QUINCE: They don't allow girls to be knights, Silly.
FLUTE: [whining] But I don't wanna be a girl! I have a beard!
BOTTOM: No you don't.
FLUTE: Hey!
QUINCE: You can play it in a mask.
BOTTOM: I wanna be Thisbe too! And I'll speak in a monstrous little voice.
QUINCE: Oh boy.
BOTTOM: Thisne, thisne! 'Ah, Pyramus, lover dear! thy Thisby dear, and lady dear!'
QUINCE: No, you [points to Bottom] must play Pyramus, and you [points to Flute] must play Thisbe.
BOTTOM: Go on then.
QUINCE: Robin Starveling, the Tailor.
STARVELING: here, Peter Quince.
QUINCE: Robin Starveling, you must play Thisby's mother. Tom Snout, the tinker.
SNOUT: Here, Peter Quince.
QUINCE: You, Pyramus' father: myself, Thisby's father: Snug, the joiner; you, the lion's part: and, I hope, here is a play fitted.
SNUG: Do you have the Lion's part written?
QUINCE: It's just roaring.
BOTTOM: I wanna be the lion, too! I Will roar like they have never heard before! And the duke will say, let him roar again. Let him roar again!
QUINCE: You will do it too terribly and they would hang us all. Anyway, you are perfect to play Pyramus.
BOTTOM: What beard should I wear?
QUINCE: Whatever one you like. Masters, here are your parts: and I am to entreat you, request you and desire you, to con them by to-morrow night; and meet me in the palace wood, a mile without the town, by moonlight; there will we rehearse, for if we meet in the city, we shall be dogged with company, and our devices known. In the meantime I will draw a bill of properties, such as our play wants. I pray you, fail me not.
BOTTOM: We will meet; and there we may rehearse most obscenely and courageously.
QUINCE: Obscenely?
BOTTOM: Enough. Hold, or cut bowstrings.
[ALL EXIT]
Hah. I decided to write more anyway. La la la.next chapter sometime in the millenium!