Puck: hope you liked the play! we can make it even better! (5.1.413-420) #MoonMad #SlowShakespeare

PUCK  If we shadows have offended, Think but this, and all is mended: That you have but slumbered here While these visions did appear. And this weak and idle theme, No more yielding but a dream, Gentles, do not reprehend: If you pardon, we will mend.            (5.1.413-420) In some ways this is a conventional exculpatory epilogue: hope you liked the show, and […]

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Oberon: sprinkle sparkling dewdrops everywhere! and GO! (5.1.405-412) #MoonMad #SlowShakespeare

OBERON         With this field-dew consecrate, Every fairy take his gate And each several chamber bless Through this palace with sweet peace; And the owner of it blest Ever shall in safety rest. Trip away, make no stay. Meet me all, by break of day. (Exeunt [all but PUCK.])      (5.1.405-412) The final blessing of this house is ancient—residually Catholic (a marriage bed would be sprinkled […]

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Oberon & Titania: time for singing, dancing, blessing (5.1.381-390) #MoonMad #SlowShakespeare

Enter [Oberon] and [Titania], with all their train. OBERON         Through the house give glimmering light By the dead and drowsy fire. Every elf and fairy sprite Hop as light as bird from brier, And this ditty after me Sing, and dance it trippingly. TITANIA         First rehearse your song by rote, To each word a warbling note. Hand in hand, with fairy grace, Will we sing and […]

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Puck: it’s FAIRY TIME, and I’m the advance clean-up squad (5.1.373-380) #MoonMad #SlowShakespeare

PUCK  And we fairies, that do run By the triple Hecate’s team From the presence of the sun, Following darkness like a dream, Now are frolic. Not a mouse Shall disturb this hallowed house. I am sent with broom before, To sweep the dust behind the door.            (5.1.373-380) It’s FAIRY TIME, not just time for bed, or for ghosts: and we fairies, that do […]

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Theseus: FINALLY, it’s time for bed! (5.1.353-360) #MoonMad #SlowShakespeare

THESEUS        The iron tongue of midnight hath told twelve. Lovers, to bed; ’tis almost fairy time. I fear we shall outsleep the coming morn, As much as we this night have overwatched. This palpable gross play hath well beguiled The heavy gait of night. Sweet friends, to bed. A fortnight hold we this solemnity, In nightly revels and new jollity. (Exeunt). (5.1.353-360) Theseus demonstrates that, for all his snide […]

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Flute as Thisbe: [dies] (5.1.329-340) #MoonMad #SlowShakespeare

FLUTE O sisters three, Come, come to me,       With hands as pale as milk; Lay them in gore, Since you have shore      With shears his thread of silk. Tongue, not a word. Come, trusty sword,       Come, blade, my breast imbrue. [Stabs herself.] And farewell, friends; Thus Thisbe ends.      Adieu, adieu, adieu.    [Dies.]         (5.1.329-340) And suddenly Thisbe’s speech comes into focus […]

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