THESEUS        Come now, what masques, what dances shall we have

To wear away this long age of three hours

Between our after-supper and bed-time?

Where is our usual manager of mirth?

What revels are in hand? Is there no play

To ease the anguish of a torturing hour?

Call Philostrate.

PHILOSTRATE                       Here, mighty Theseus.

THESEUS        Say, what abridgement have you for this evening?

What masque, what music? How shall we beguile

The lazy time, if not with some delight?     (5.1.32-41)

It’s still midsummer, or near enough; the day is long and the night is short, and it’s not bedtime yet, so Theseus is after some after-dinner entertainment: come now, what masques, what dances shall we have to wear away this long age of three hours between our after-supper and bed-time? He’s not fussed, he’s expecting some dancing, perhaps a visiting group of revellers in disguise, or else a more theatrical entertainment—doesn’t matter what, so long as it’s distracting and will fill up those three notional hours. Where is our usual manager of mirth? Master of ceremonies, master of the revels, where are you? What revels are in hand, what’s the plan? What do you have up your sleeve, all ready to go? Is there no play to ease the anguish of a torturing hour? A PLAY, that’d do it, we wouldn’t have to join in with the dancing, even, and we could get completely caught up in it, transported, the time would pass in no time… Call Philostrate! He’s the guy we need. Here, mighty Theseus: Philostrate is ready and waiting! Say, what abridgement have you for this evening? What distractions, what pastimes? What masque, what music? How shall we beguile the lazy time, if not with some delight? We need something gorgeous, or hilarious, or both,  to distract us, take our minds of the fact that, really, all we want to do is go to bed…