QUINCE Francis Flute, the bellows-mender?
FLUTE Here, Peter Quince.
QUINCE Flute, you must take Thisbe on you.
FLUTE What is Thisbe? A wandering knight?
QUINCE It is the lady that Pyramus must love.
FLUTE Nay, faith, let not me play a woman. I have a beard coming.
QUINCE That’s all one. You shall play it in a mask, and you may speak as small as you will.
BOTTOM And I may hide my face, let me play Thisbe too. I’ll speak in a monstrous little voice: ‘Thisne, Thisne!’ – ‘Ah, Pyramus, my lover dear! Thy Thisbe dear, and lady dear.’
QUINCE No, no. You must play Pyramus; and Flute, you Thisbe.
BOTTOM Well, proceed. (1.2.38-53)
Francis Flute, the bellows-mender? Flute’s usually the youngest of the group; to make him a bellows-mender is niche, a little comic, and perhaps suggests an airiness, a whistling that’s appropriate for what he’s being asked to do. (Or, more bawdiness, impotence or emasculation, something deflated.) Here, Peter Quince! Flute might be full of naïve enthusiasm, or else suspicious reluctance, what are they going to ask me to do now? He’s perhaps used to being the butt of jokes, the baby of the group. Flute, you must take Thisbe on you. It’s one of the main parts, apparently, but Flute has no idea of the story, clearly: what is Thisbe? A wandering knight? He’s fired up, briefly, with Bottom’s theatrical ardour. Quince has to let him down: no, it is the lady that Pyramus must love. (Possible noises from the rest of the crew.) Nay, faith, let not me play a woman. I have a beard coming. Look! (Comedy here, if the actor playing Flute is identifiably one of the boy actors in the company.) Sure you do, lad, wee bit of fluff, perhaps. Quince has already thought through this objection: that’s all one. You shall play it in a mask, and you may speak as small as you will. No one will be able to see your face—or your beard, yes, ok, you have a beard coming—it’ll all be in the voice, a real challenge!
Bottom likes the sound of this challenge, and has a suggestion: and I may hide my face, if that’s all it takes (because obviously I am far more manly than your man Flute here), let me play Thisbe too. I can do the double! I’ll speak in a monstrous little voice, girly as you like, ‘Thisne, Thisne!’ (that’s in his booming Pyramus voice, noble, gallant) ‘Ah, Pyramus, my lover dear! Thy Thisbe dear, and lady dear’, crooning away, so seductive yet innocent, so ardent yet feminine, so VERSATILE, this could be a solo show! No, no. You must play Pyramus; and Flute, you Thisbe. Quince puts his foot down. That’s that. (There could be a flattering emphasis on must, please, no one else but you could do it!) Bottom thinks for a moment, decides to be magnanimous. Well, proceed.
