OBERON         Silence a while. Robin, take off this head.

Titania, music call, and strike more dead

Than common sleep of all these five the sense.

TITANIA         Music, ho, music, such as charmeth sleep.    (Music still.)

PUCK  [to Bottom] Now, when thou wak’st, with thine own fool’s eyes peep.

OBERON         Sound music. Come, my queen, take hands with me,

And rock the ground whereon these sleepers be.

[They dance.]

Now thou and I are new in amity,

And will tomorrow midnight solemnly

Dance in Duke Theseus’ house triumphantly,

And bless it to all fair prosperity.

There shall the pairs of faithful lovers be

Wedded, with Theseus, all in jollity.            (4.1.79-91)

Silence a while, says Oberon, we’ll talk about this later, we need to sort everything out here. (He could also be suggesting that there’s been a pause in music, which would be theatrically effective.) Robin, take off this head—Bottom’s—and however that needs to happen might necessitate distraction or misdirection—or just MAGIC. Then Oberon both involves Titania and affirms her special power: Titania, music call, and strike more dead than common sleep of all these five the sense. We need extra-special music, music that will put all the lovers, and Bottom too, into a particularly deep, enchanted sleep. Give them an anaesthetic tune! And Titania complies: music, ho, music, such as charmeth sleep; Puck’s had a couple of lines while they speak to prepare to get the ass’s head off, or perhaps to remove it altogether, and so now he speaks Bottom’s disenchantment: now, when thou wak’st, with thine own fool’s eyes peep. Back to normality, you funny man, no more fairy dalliance for you. Then the focus goes both to Oberon: sound music—keep playing, more and more! Come, my queen, take hands with me, and rock the ground whereon these sleepers be. It can be one of the emotional and theatrical climaxes of the play, actually, these warring, older lovers reunited, dancing together, back in harmony (at least for now; this may be the pattern of their relationship, lots of breaking up and making up). They’re rocking the ground as if it’s a cradle—oh these immature lovers, who slumber on, after their night of confusion and heartbreak—but they’re also just rocking out, like no one’s watching and everyone’s watching and they don’t care about anyone else in the world. (Very Fleetwood Mac.)

DANCE BREAK.

But then it’s back to the story, and Oberon’s back to his fairy metre: now thou and I are new in amity—we’re friends again now, the old team’s back!—and will tomorrow midnight solemnly dance in Duke Theseus’ house triumphantly, and bless it to all fair prosperity. That’s what we’re going to do, yes? Oberon invokes a world outside the wood, and a time in the future, just, tomorrow night; the bubble’s breaking, it’s almost dawn. There shall the pairs of faithful lovers be wedded, with Theseus, all in jollity. Everything’s going to work out, for everyone, as well as for us.