SNOUT            Will not the ladies be afeared of the Lion?

STARVELING I fear it, I promise you.

BOTTOM        Masters, you ought to consider with yourself: to bring in (God shield us) a lion among ladies is a most dreadful thing; for there is not a more fearful wild-fowl than your lion living, and we ought to look to’t.

SNOUT            Therefore another prologue must tell he is not a lion.

BOTTOM        Nay, you must name his name, and half his face must be seen through the lion’s neck, and he himself must speak through, saying thus, or to the same defect: ‘Ladies’, or ‘Fair ladies, I would wish you’, or ‘I would request you’, or ‘I would entreat you, not to fear, not to tremble: my life for yours. If you think I come hither as a lion, it were pity of my life. No, I am no such thing. I am a man as other men are.’ And there, indeed, let him name his name, and tell them plainly he is Snug the joiner.    (3.1.25-42)

The actors are seeing potential pitfalls everywhere now: will not the ladies be afeared of the Lion? asks Snout. (This is funnier if Snug is practising being fierce and doing silent roaring all the time.) Starveling is once again the barometer of extreme theatrical anxiety: I fear it, I promise you! I’M afraid of the lion. (And of roaring Snug?? And of frightening the ladies and consequences thereof, obviously.) Bottom concedes that the lion, too, could be a problem. (Quince despairs.) Masters, you ought to consider with yourself; we really need to think this through, weigh up the pros and cons. After all, to bring in (God shield us) a lion among ladies is a most dreadful thing. Terrible, oughtn’t to be allowed. And frightening! And dangerous, of course! For there is not a more fearful wild-fowl than your lion living, and we ought to look to’t. Yes, indeed. Something must be done! (Quince is forced to consider that Bottom’s understanding of zoology is even shakier than his grasp of the dramatic arts.)

But Snout now has a precedent of how these issues might be resolved: therefore another prologue must tell he is not a lion. That’ll sort it! Snout can look smug; Snug can leave off his roaring look offended, he is proposing to be a compleat method lion. (Quince briefly considers this lifeline and then, no, no, there cannot be a prologue for everything. He must somehow regain artistic control.) But Bottom, inevitably, has a better idea. Nay, you must name his name, and half his face must be seen through the lion’s neck, and he himself must speak through, saying thus, or to the same defect. Everyone needs to see that it’s not a real lion, obviously, but just a lion’s head! (This is creating another sort of precedent…) And the lion must speak, politely identify himself, saying, as follows. Or thereabouts. ‘Ladies’, or ‘Fair ladies, I would wish you’, or ‘I would request you’, or ‘I would entreat you, not to fear, not to tremble: my life for yours. Bottom can practically SEE the trembling ladies, as he slowly dials up his courtesy. I’d die rather than frighten you! I would! If you think I come hither as a lion, it were pity of my life. No, I am no such thing. I am a man as other men are.’ Do not DREAM that I would ever be so bold, so foolish, so foolhardy as to come here as a lion. For I am NOT A LION! I’m a man, I’m a real man! And there, indeed, let him name his name, and tell them plainly he is Snug the joiner.

Good or what, lads? Sorted.