These lovers are talking about strange things.
Did you send anyone to Bottom’s house? Has he come home yet?
No one knows where he is. No doubt he’s been kidnapped.
If he doesn’t come back, then the play is ruined. We can’t go on, right?
Right. It’s not possible to do the play without him. There’s no one else in Athens who could play Pyramus.
Come sit down on this flower-strewn bed while I stroke your friendly cheeks, stick muskroses in your hair, and kiss your big, beautiful ears.
Where is Peaseblossom?
At your service.
Scratch my head, Peaseblossom. Where is Master Cobweb?
I wonder if Titania has woken up yet, and I wonder what she first saw — the thing she must have fallen deeply in love with.
Here comes my messenger. How are you, crazy fairy? What mischief are you up to in this haunted forest tonight?
Is everyone here?
Right on time. This is the perfect place for our rehearsal. This grass here will be our stage, and this stand of trees will be backstage, and we’ll rehearse the play just as we plan to perform it for the Duke.
Peter Quince?
What is it, Bottom, my good friend?
Let’s have a dance and a fairy song, and then you should all head off to work: some of you will kill worms in rosebuds, some of you will fight bats for their leathery wings so that you can make coats for my small elves, and some of you will ward off the loud owl that hoots while we sleep. Sing me to sleep now. Then go do your jobs and let me rest.
How are you, fairy? Where are you going?