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.’
Early next morning, their wedding ceremony behind them, Theseus and Hippolyta decided to spend the day in the countryside. Strolling through Cottingley Wood in the company of Egeus and a squad of minders, they happened on the place where the four young people lay sleeping.
‘Who’re these?’ exclaimed Theseus.
‘It’s my daughter, Hermia,’ cried Egeus, ‘with Lysander, Demetrius and her friend, Helena. What on earth are they doing out here?’
‘They were probably celebrating May Day,’ said Theseus. ‘They heard Hippolyta and I planned to come this way, and stayed to congratulate us.’ He frowned at Egeus. ‘Isn’t it today your daughter has to decide whether to obey you and marry Demetrius, or face death or banishment?’
Egeus nodded grimly. ‘It is indeed.’
‘Then we must wake them and know Hermia’s decision.’
The youngsters were quickly wakened. Their hearts kicked them in the ribs when they saw who was gazing down at them. Nobody messes with Theseus. They scrambled to their feet, knocking dust and grass from their clothes with their hands. ‘S-s-sorry,’ stammered Lysander, ‘we were just…’
‘What puzzles me,’ interrupted Theseus, ‘is how you and Demetrius can lie down and sleep within a foot of each other, when everybody knows you’re bitter rivals.’
Lysander shook his head. ‘This is going to sound weird, but I don’t really remember how I got here. I was … Hermia and I were to meet, and we were going to run off where nobody’d ever…’
‘See!’ cried Egeus. ‘He admits it – he was going to rob Demetrius of a wife, and me of a daughter.’
‘Yes,’ nodded Demetrius. ‘Helena warned me of their plan – I came to intercept them, and Helena followed me. And then…’ He broke off, shook his head. ‘And then suddenly I didn’t love Hermia any more – I loved Helena. I know that all sounds crazy and I can’t explain. It happened, that’s all I can say. And I know I’ll love Helena for ever.’
Theseus shook his head. ‘Amazing.’ He turned to Egeus. ‘I’m sorry, old friend, but I’m going to have to overrule you. This has turned out so conveniently, I’m inclined to believe some higher power has been at work.’ He smiled. ‘Let’s scrap this outing, go back to my place – sorry, dear – our place, see these loving couples wed and have a party.’
The four young people watched as Theseus, Hippolyta and Egeus faded among the trees, followed by Theseus’s minders. When the group had passed from view, they turned dazed expressions on one another.
‘Am I still dreaming,’ murmured Demetrius, ‘or did Theseus just invite us to a party at his place?’
‘It’s like a dream,’ whispered Helena. ‘Me and my Demetrius.’
‘We did dream, I think,’ said Lysander. ‘I can’t really remember.’
‘Weddings were mentioned just now,’ put in Hermia. ‘I certainly didn’t dream that, so why don’t we make our way to Theseus’s, and tell each other our dreams as we go?’
Not far away, Bottom was waking from his dream. He couldn’t remember what he’d dreamed, except that it was something seriously weird, with a fairy queen in it. The word Peaseblossom drifted across his mind, and something about a hairy face. All nonsense, of course. He was to play Pyramus in a play though – that was real enough. What about his friends? Where were Quince, Flute, Snug, Starveling and Snout? They’d been rehearsing with him, hadn’t they – here in the wood? Why had they left him alone? He set off home, muttering under his breath:
‘The ass I am, I have not always been; methinks I embraced a fairy queen.’