THESEUS        This passion, and the death of a dear friend, would go near to make a man look sad.

HIPPOLYTA   Beshrew my heart, but I pity the man.

BOTTOM        O wherefore, Nature, didst thou lions frame?

Since Lion vile hath here deflowered my dear.

Which is – no, no, which was – the fairest dame

That lived, that loved, that liked, that looked with cheer.

Come, tears, confound;

Out, sword, and wound

     The pap of Pyramus:

Ay, that left pap,

Where heart doth hop.

     Thus die I, thus, thus, thus. [Stabs himself.]

Now am I dead,

Now am I fled;

     My soul is in the sky.

Tongue, lose thy light.

Moon, take thy flight. [Exit Moonshine.]

     Now die, die, die, die, die.    [Dies.] (5.1.281-299)

This passion, and the death of a dear friend, would go near to make a man look sad: well, fair enough, Theseus seems to be saying. Rough. And Hippolyta’s won over too, apparently against her will: beshrew my heart, but I pity the man. Bottom-as-Pyramus has more to give, however, and he begins with an apostrophe: O wherefore, Nature, did thou lions frame? Lions, WHY? Since Lion vile hath here deflowered my dear. Snug-as-Lion might look both puzzled and indignant here, and despite the immediate context, the ear perhaps hears deer, adding to the oddity of deflowered (he means devoured). (It’s also a direct echo of first Capulet’s, and then Romeo’s laments for Juliet.) Then there’s proper pathos, despite the clumsiness: which is—no, no, which was—the fairest dame (a heartbreaking, all-too-recognisable shift, for the first time, into the past tense) that lived, that loved, that liked, that looked with cheer—and that, especially liked, turns pathos to bathos, through the alliteration and the muddled order.

But this is Bottom-as-Pyramus’s biggest moment, his death speech. Come tears, confound. Destroy me! Out, sword—gasps, as he draws (perhaps with difficulty) whatever weapon the production has supplied—and wound the pap of Pyramus. Enough with the alliteration, Quince, pap is not a good idea, and neither is the subsequent amplification, ay, that left pap, where heart doth hop (he’s probably right-handed, then, although there’s further possibility for comedy if he’s not), and more alliteration, and a half-rhyme on hop, this is the play’s climax and it’s bringing out the absolute worst in Quince. But Bottom is having a great time! Thus die I, thus, thus, thus. Stabby stabby stabby. There’s more, though! And it’s all too recognisable as a parody of tragic deaths: now am I dead, now am I fled—I’m a goner, I’m GONE—my soul is in the sky. Tongue, lose thy light. (There’s another Romeo and Juliet echo, of Romeo’s heartbreaking ‘eyes, look your last’.) And really it should be eyes. Moon, take thy flight, off you go, although it’s mostly just here for the rhyme. And he goes again: now die, die, die, die, die. By whatever pantomimed and extended violent dismemberment the actor playing Bottom is allowed to get away with.