EGEUS            And, my gracious duke,

Be it so she will not here before your grace

Consent to marry with Demetrius,

I beg the ancient privilege of Athens:

As she is mine, I may dispose of her,

Which shall be either to this gentleman,

Or to her death, according to our law

Immediately provided in that case. (1.1.38-45)

But Egeus has a particular demand, not just a general complaint, and he’s been working himself up to making it: and, my gracious duke, be it so she will not here before your grace consent to marry with Demetrius (the repetition of gracious and grace underlines Egeus’s fussiness, his playing by the rules in addressing the duke, his confidence in protocol, procedure)—this is it, she needs to promise right here, right now, that she’ll marry this one, not that one and, well, if she won’t, I beg the ancient privilege of Athens. Does the atmosphere change on stage, from amusement at this slightly ridiculous, pompous man, to a realisation of what might be at stake? Or can it be incredulity, really? no one does that sort of thing anymore, ok, it’s still on the statute books, but it’s called ancient for a reason… As she is mine, I may dispose of her (OK, this would make sense to Elizabethans, or at least to Capulet, although there was a strong legal and theological defence of the principle of consent in marriage, which, as here, often came into conflict with the imperative for children to obey their parents; no one could be forced to marry though)—which shall be either to this gentleman (Demetrius can look resolute, noble, the injured party, or else a bit embarrassed, this is all rather public isn’t it? did we really have to come here to do this?) or to her death, according to our law immediately provided in that case. Oh. Right. Not so funny now? Who in the scene knew this was a possibility? and who really didn’t? Hermia? Lysander? Hippolyta?