A Midsummer Night's Dream (4 page)

‘You're
both
wasting your breath,' grated Helena.

‘Stick to your plan, Lysander,' spat
Demetrius. ‘Run away with Hermia. ‘See – here she comes now.
She's
the one for you.'

Hermia approached, distressed. She looked at Lysander. ‘I could hear your voice a mile off,' she said. ‘But what about our plan? Why did you leave me by myself in the wood?'

‘I had to follow Helena, didn't I?' said Lysander.

‘
Why
?' asked Hermia. ‘You said you loved
me
. We were eloping, running off to get married. I didn't think
anything
could change your mind about that.'

Lysander scoffed. ‘I
hate
you, Hermia. Hate you and love Helena.
That's
why I left.'

Hermia shook her head. ‘You're lying, you
must
be.'

Helena's bewildered gaze went from Hermia to Lysander to Demetrius. ‘It's all
three
of you, isn't it?' she cried. ‘You've all got together to make a prat out of me.' She looked at Hermia. ‘We were mates at school,'
she choked. ‘How can
you
, of all people, turn on me like this?'

Hermia shook her head. ‘I don't know what you're talking about, Helena,' she protested. ‘
I
don't want to make a prat out of you –
you
seem to be making a prat out of
me
.'

‘I don't believe you!' cried Helena. ‘I can
see
you, you know, the three of you – pulling faces behind my back, winking at one another. Well, I won't stay to be treated like this – I'm off.'

‘Please, Helena,' pleaded Lysander. ‘Don't go – listen to what I'm saying. I love you more than anything in the world.'

‘Yeah, right!' sneered Helena.

‘Don't listen to him,' said Demetrius. ‘It's me –
I'm
the one who loves you.'

‘Oh!' gasped Helena. ‘You're all being unbelievably cruel. And
you
,' she turned on Hermia. ‘You're worse than the men, you … midget.'

‘
Midget
?' Hermia looked at her former
friend. ‘That's
so
heightist. I bet you've been comparing your tallness to mine, haven't you, you pathetic stick of spaghetti?
That's
how you've turned them against me. Well…' She started towards Helena. ‘I may be short, but I can reach high enough to scratch your eyes out!'

Helena backed off. ‘I'll go, since you all seem determined to continue mocking me with declarations of undying love, which can't possibly be true for one as
plain
as me.'

‘Yes,
go
!' snarled Hermia.

Puck and Oberon watched as the mortals left: the maids separately, the youths together. ‘Looks like you messed up again,' said Oberon. ‘Either that, or you do these things on purpose to amuse yourself.'

Puck shook his head. ‘It was a mistake, Oberon. The mortal youths look much the same. I juiced the wrong one, that's all. Mind you…' he grinned. ‘I'm not sorry.
I like nothing better than screwing up the affairs of mortals.'

‘Yes, well.' Oberon looked severe. ‘I think those two youths have gone off to fight over Helena, and it's not funny. Somebody could get hurt or even killed. Listen, I want you to create a fog. A really dense one, so thick they can't see each other at all. And then I want you to go about, calling out to Demetrius in Lysander's voice, and to Lysander in Demetrius's voice.' He smiled. ‘That way, they'll strike and strike without harming each other. And when they've tired themselves out slashing fog and have gone to sleep, put some of this juice in Lysander's eyes. It's the antidote to the love juice. When he wakes, he won't want Helena any more – he'll be in love with Hermia again, which is how it ought to be. Meanwhile I'll find Titania, make her swap the Indian boy for the antidote, so she'll be free of that ass-headed monstrosity. Though she's under my spell, I think a part
of her knows she's being made a fool of, and I find myself feeling sorry for her. So … two drops of juice, two pairs of sleeping eyes, and all will be well 'ere the morning sun doth rise.'

 

Puck's fog was a serious peasouper. Lysander stood with clenched fists, peering into the opaque vapour.

‘Demetrius, you creepazoid, where
are
you?'

‘Right here,' mimicked Puck. ‘You blind idiot.'

‘Good – stand still while I rip your head off. Hunnnh! –
missed
.'

‘Yes, 'cause you're a blind idiot.'

Some distance off stood the
real
Demetrius, turning on the spot, lashing out in all directions. ‘Stand
still
, Lysander, you snivelling coward. I'm only going to ram my fingers up your nose and pull an eyeball down.'

‘Sorry,' said Puck as Lysander. ‘Don't fancy it.'

‘Think
I
care what you fancy?' roared Demetrius. He lunged at the voice, landing a solid punch on a tree trunk. ‘
Oooowww – my flippin' knuckles
!' He danced in agony, flapping his ruined hand.

Meanwhile, Lysander had burned himself out chasing phantoms. He stood still and yawned. ‘Night
and
fog,' he growled. ‘Deadly combination. I'll get some rest, track down that wuss Demetrius in the morning.' He lay down. Nearby, his rival was doing the same, and in another part of the wood slept Helena and Hermia, each unaware of the other's proximity.

As the four exhausted mortals lay sleeping, a group approached that included the lovers Titania and Bottom, the attendants Peaseblossom, Cobweb, Moth, Mustardseed and other fairies. Some of these fairies had once been photographed here in Cottingley Wood by two young mortal girls. The snapshots had appeared in books and magazines all over the world, and the fairies were finding it difficult to get over themselves because of it. Behind this group, undetected, came Oberon.

Titania smiled fondly at Bottom. ‘Sit down on this flowery bed, my love. I want to caress your cheek, twist flowers into your hair and kiss those gorgeous big ears.'

The couple reclined on the grass, and Titania proceded to do those things. Bottom smiled contentedly, as well he might, and looked around.

‘Where's Peasblossom?' he demanded.

‘I'm here,' said that fairy.

‘Scratch my head, will you, Peaseblossom? Where's Cobweb?'

‘Ready,' said Cobweb.

‘Ah, Cobweb.' Bottom treated the attendant to his ass's smile. ‘I want you to find a bumblebee and nick its honey-bag. Take it easy mind – there's no rush. Bring me the honey, and be careful not to slosh it around. Don't want you pickling yourself. Mustardseed?'

‘Here,' answered Mustardseed. ‘How may I help you?'

‘The scratching,' yawned Bottom. ‘Just help with the scratching, will you? My face feels hairy, can't think why.'

‘Perhaps my handsome darling would like to hear some music?' suggested Titania.

‘Oh, aye!' nodded Bottom. ‘Partial to a bit of music, I am. Let's have somebody play the tongs, and somebody else the bones.'

‘And what about food? What will you eat, my prince?'

‘I could murder a helping of dry oats,' requested Bottom, ‘washed down with a bottle of hay. Can't beat a good bottle of hay when you've a thirst on, I always say.'

Titania pulled a face. ‘Sounds absolutely ghastly, my dear, but there's a brave fairy standing by who'll track down a squirrel's hoard and bring you fresh nuts.'

Bottom shook his monstrous head. ‘I'd sooner have a handful or two of dried peas, but never mind. I feel fatigued suddenly. Tell your fairies not to bother me with anything –
I fancy a nap.'

‘Of course, my love,' crooned Titania. ‘Let me hold you in my arms while you sleep.' She turned to her retinue. ‘Make yourselves scarce,' she commanded. ‘Go on – scram.' She twined herself round Bottom. ‘I'm crazy about you, you handsome hunk,' she murmured. ‘Crazy.'

Oberon, who'd watched all this, looked round as Puck appeared. He indicated the ill-matched couple on the ground. ‘Look at the state of this, Puck. I was watching her a few minutes ago, fawning on this donkey-headed numpty. She was weaving flowers into his hair, if you can believe it. And when I mocked her for it, she asked me to bear with her. Asked me softly, y'know? Which can only be because she realises deep down she's being a plonker. And since she seemed to be feeling soft, I took the opportunity to ask her for the Indian boy.' Oberon shrugged, pulled a face.
‘And she gave him to me, just like that. I couldn't believe it. He's in my bower right now, in fairyland. So now…' Oberon showed Puck the antidote. ‘I'm going to take the spell off.' He pointed to Bottom. ‘And then you'd better get rid of that ass's head, so this rude mechanical can wake like the others and get himself home.' He smiled. ‘They won't remember anything that's happened to them while they were bewitched, except in the form of those vague memories you get when you wake after dreaming.'

Oberon administered the antidote, and Titania woke up.

‘Oh, it's
you
, Oberon,' she mumbled. ‘D'you know, I dreamed I was madly in love with an
ass
!'

Oberon smiled. ‘And so you
were
, my dear – there he lies.'

‘Ugh!' Titania jerked herself clear of the sleeping Bottom. ‘How the devil could such a thing
happen
? He's totally hideous!'

Oberon laughed. ‘Don't worry about it, Titania – stuff happens, that's all. Let's have some music – perhaps it will wake these mortals who've taken to dossing in the wood.'

‘Aye, let them wake,' cried Puck, ‘and see things through their
own
eyes!'

‘Let them rest,' chuckled Oberon. ‘Tonight we dance and sing in celebration of the coming festivities, and tomorrow we'll go to Theseus's house, where we'll bless his union with Hippolyta, and see these lately bewildered couples wed, so that all ends happily.'