Enter Lion.
SNUG You ladies, you whose gentle hearts do fear
The smallest monstrous mouse that creeps on floor,
May now perchance both quake and tremble here,
When Lion rough in wildest rage doth roar.
Then know that I, as Snug the joiner, am
No lion fell, nor else no lion’s dam.
For if I should, as Lion, come in strife
Into this place, ’twere pity on my life.
THESEUS A very gentle beast, and of a good conscience.
DEMETRIUS The very best at a beast, my lord, that e’er I saw.
LYSANDER This Lion is a very fox for his valour.
THESEUS True, and a goose for his discretion.
DEMETRIUS Not so, my lord. For his valour cannot carry his discretion, and the fox carries the goose.
THESEUS His discretion, I am sure, cannot carry his valour, for the goose carries not the fox. It is well. Leave it to his discretion, and let us listen to the Moon. (5.1.217-233)
It’s SNUG, as the LION, and, as promised, he has a little prologue of his own. You ladies, you whose gentle hearts do fear the smallest monstrous mouse that creeps on floor—Hippolyta the Amazon queen might have a few things to say about an assumed fear of anything, let alone a tiny tiny mouse, but, point taken, he means well—you faint and feeble girlies, if you’re frightened of a single little mouse, then well, you may now perchance both quake and tremble here, when Lion rough in wildest rage doth roar. You’d be terrified of a roaring lion, wouldn’t you, fair ladies, distressed damsels, you’d SWOON? Or something? But don’t worry! Fear not, fair ladies! Then know that I, as Snug the joiner—he even sounds cuddly, for all that it’s about the snug fit of a wooden joint—am no lion fell, nor else no lion’s dam. I am Not A Lion! I am Not A Lion’s Mother either, for the sake of the rhyme! For if I should, as Lion, come in strife into this pace, ’twere pity on my life. It’d be more than my life’s worth, to come in here as a scary lion, wouldn’t it?? And relax, Snug, you’ve done it.
Snug has made a good impression: a very gentle beast, and of a good conscience, observes Theseus. What a nice, polite, well-bred lion! Oh shut up Demetrius, with your feeble quibbling—the very best at a beast—yes we see what you did there—my lord, that e’er I saw. Lysander can’t resist: this Lion is a very fox for his valour. Clever lion! Theseus quite likes that, a bit of proverbial playing: true, and a goose for his discretion; he’s sensible, but also a coward. Cowardly lion! Demetrius has another go, he’s so NEEDY (also: champagne): not so, my lord. For his valour cannot carry his discretion, and the fox carries the goose. He’s even stupider than he is cowardly, but foxes steal geese all the time. Theseus has to have the last word, he’s the one in charge here, this is, after all, his party: his discretion, I am sure, cannot carry his valour, for the goose carries not the fox: well, there’s no way that his cleverness could compensate for his lack of boldness, really, is there? I mean, have you ever seen a goose steal a fox? All a bit silly; it would be hilarious if actually the three women were entirely overcome with Snug’s guileless leonine cuteness, as the boys jostle for position in their bitchy asides. Leave it to his discretion—just let him alone, he knows what he’s doing—and let us listen to the Moon. Which, given the story so far, makes perfect sense.
