QUINCE          But masters, here are your parts; and I am to intreat you, request you and desire you to con them by tomorrow 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. Take pains, be perfit. Adieu.

QUINCE          At the duke’s oak we meet.

BOTTOM        Enough. Hold, or cut bowstrings. (Exeunt.) (1.2.91-104)

And now, down to business (anything to stop Bottom banging on about beards): but masters, here are your parts, and Quince distributes the various scrolls or sheets to the others, a reasonable number of lines for Flute and Bottom, nothing at all for Snug? And I am to intreat you, request you and desire you—this is serious, guys, you really have to do this—to con them by tomorrow night. Learn your lines! by tomorrow! all of them! and meet me in the palace wood a mile without the town by moonlight. That’s the plan, we’re going to rehearse al fresco, it’ll be bright enough, quiet and uncrowded too. There we will rehearse; for if we meet in the city, we shall be dogged with company and our devices known. There’s a bit of secrecy called for here, apparently: it’s maybe implied that there’s a competition for this wedding entertainment gig and so they don’t want anyone else getting wind of what they’re planning? but also that Quince is perhaps shy about this scheme (or knows that the others—except Bottom—are?): getting involved in amateur dramatics! and they don’t need an audience for their first rehearsal… (Or maybe he’s worried about fans?) In the meantime, I will draw a bill of properties such as our play wants, yes, the practicalities, what will we need to put on this show?! I pray you, fail me not. Don’t let me down, guys! Bottom wants to have the last word, to reinforce this little pep talk: we will meet, and there we may rehearse most obscenely and courageously. No holds barred, safe space. Take pains, be perfit: LEARN YOUR LINES! (Maybe this could be directed at Flute in particular, perhaps the most reluctant of the company? And Snug can give a little *roar*.) Adieu, a fancy French farewell to suit the thespian moment. Quince tries to regain control, it’s his gig, he wants the last word: at the duke’s oak we meet, be there! But he’s never going to silence Bottom, who regards the last word as his prerogative, always: enough. Hold, or cut bowstrings. Be there, lads, or be square. (That’s not what it means, it means putting your bow out of commission if you have to discard it in retreat, but, really…)

And that’s the end of act 1!