Wind horns. Enter THESEUS, HIPPOLYTA, EGEUS and [the Duke’s] train.
THESEUS Go one of you, find out the forester;
For now our observation is performed,
And since we have the vaward of the day,
My love shall hear the music of my hounds.
Uncouple in the western valley, let them go.
Dispatch, I say, and find the forester.
[Exit an Attendant.]
We will, fair queen, up to the mountain’s top,
And mark the musical confusion
Of hounds and echo in conjunction. (4.1.102-110)
Wind horns, a complete change of sound world, and enter Theseus, Hippolyta, and Egeus and attendants—remember them? They’re out hunting early in the morning, hence the horns, and there could be quite a lot of business with the horns and other music, because it’s very likely that Theseus and Hippolyta are doubling Oberon and Titania—it’s the norm in modern productions, such that it’s disconcerting when it doesn’t happen—and so there needs to be time for a quick change. Theseus is in charge, and he’s giving directions for the management of the hunt: go one of you, find out the forester—who will be organising things—for now our observation is performed, now that we’ve done the ceremonies due to the morning, the wedding day even—and also, perhaps, now that we’ve got a sense of the conditions—and since we have the vaward of the day, seeing as it’s so early—it’s just getting light (having so carefully created night and darkness, the play now makes the dawn)—my love shall hear the music of my hounds. This is something to impress Hippolyta it seems, Theseus is proud of his hunting pack, and their barking, like the sound of the horns, is another move away from the fairy soundscape. Uncouple in the western valley, let them go—release the dogs in the western valley—and the world gets bigger, but also more defined, away from this fairy grove. Dispatch, I say, and find the forester. Go on, what are you waiting for? Off goes the attendant. Then Theseus turns to Hippolyta, to describe the treat they’re about to have: we will, fair queen, up to the mountain’s top—another evocation of the landscape outside the grove—and mark the musical confusion of hounds and echo in conjunction. It’s a wonderful sound, the barking and howling, the reverberations! One is tempted to say, OK Theseus, whatever you say, do you take all your dates up there to hear actual dogs barking as the sun rises, as a treat? But actually there’s still a bit of the Oberon magic in Theseus’s description, something otherworldly in the imagining of these unseen dogs, present only in the evocation of their voices, heard from this unseen hill.
