QUINCE Marry, our play is ‘The most lamentable comedy and most cruel death of Pyramus and Thisbe’.
BOTTOM A very good piece of work, I assure you, and a merry. Now good Peter Quince, call forth your actors by the scroll. Masters, spread yourselves.
QUINCE Answer as I call you. Nick Bottom, the weaver?
BOTTOM Ready. Name what part I am for, and proceed.
QUINCE You, Nick Bottom, are set down for Pyramus.
BOTTOM What is Pyramus? A lover, or a tyrant?
QUINCE A lover that kills himself most gallant for love. (1.2.11-20)
Quince announces the title—proudly, shyly, diffidently?—he’s clearly written it himself. Marry, our play is ‘The most lamentable comedy and most cruel death of Pyramus and Thisbe’. The idiom’s right even if the sense is wrong; this is how plays are increasingly described on title pages and, presumably, promoted. (Romeo and Juliet was first printed, in 1597, as ‘An excellent conceited tragedy’ as ‘The most excellent and lamentable tragedie’, and other plays had indeed been printed as ‘lamentable comedies’; it was becoming common, too, to include a play’s notable events on its title page.) Lamentable comedy is, alas, all too true—but that’s in the future. What matters is the casting, and that’s what Bottom’s angling at, with a bit of flattery, which could well be genuine, a very good piece of work I assure you, and a merry, although at the same time he’s showing his complete ignorance of the plot. Now good Peter Quince, call forth your actors by the scroll. (This is what Quince has been trying to do.) Masters, spread yourselves, give him—us, perhaps—some room. Is everyone as eager as Bottom to hear about the casting??
Answer as I call you, continues Quince, sticking absolutely to the letter of his process. Nick Bottom, the weaver? The first time he’s been named; a bottom is the spool into which thread is wound for weaving, but really, that hasn’t been the point here for a long time. Ready, that’s me, I’m here, name what part I am for, and proceed. I’m doing my best, thinks Quince. You, Nick Bottom, are set down for Pyramus. (Nothing else would be possible, that’s what Bottom’s expecting, although he might still feign, what, who, me, little me? the title role??) But now—secure in having the lead—Bottom can be suspicious, or anxious (and he gets a laugh, for prizing the starring role over actually knowing anything about it): what is Pyramus? A lover, or a tyrant? It can be very clear that he’d prefer the latter, and so Quince gives it a bit of spin: a lover that kills himself most gallant for love. He’s not one of your soppy lovers, don’t worry, he’s an action man too! He’ll have a sword and everything!
