THESEUS                    Trust me, sweet,

Out of this silence, yet I picked a welcome;

And in the modesty of fearful duty,

I read as much as from the rattling tongue

Of saucy and audacious eloquence.

Love, therefore, and tongue-tied simplicity

In least speak most, to my capacity.

[Enter PHILOSTRATE.]

PHILOSTRATE           So please your grace, the Prologue is addressed.

THESEUS        Let him approach.     (5.1.99-107)

No, really, it’ll be fine, Theseus reassures Hippolyta, I’ve dealt with this sort of thing before. Trust me, sweet—another reinforcement of their intimacy—out of this silence, the tongue-tied, terrified orators, yet I picked a welcome. I still understood their sentiments! And in the modesty of fearful duty, the very fact that they were so nervous, so determined to do honour to me, even if they couldn’t get a single word out, I read as much as from the rattling tongue of saucy and audacious eloquence. It meant more to me than the most polished, the most loquacious protestations. (Is that a slight dig at Philostrate?) But really, he’s speaking to Hippolyta, and perhaps also advising Lysander and Hermia, Helena and Demetrius: love, therefore, and tongue-tied simplicity in least speak most, to my capacity. So far as I’m concerned, sometime silence, utterly without pretence, speaks loudest, can be the most eloquent statement of loyalty and affection. That’s what I reckon, anyway. We don’t always need words to say what we mean, or to be truly understood. (Theseus is of course giving an eloquent defence of inarticulacy.)

So please your grace, the Prologue is addressed; it’s happening, Philostrate has to announce the play. No way out. They’re ready to begin. Let him approach! On with the show!