Overture and Incidental Music for A Midsummer Nigh
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By the Pucks phallic orientation, you know him for a creature of King Oberons.Hairy Puck fell in love with Golden Herm and often came to frolic round the lovely living statue in the moonlit glade, although he could not, happily for the Herm, get near enough to touch because Titania forethoughtfully had thrown a magical cordon sanitaire around her lovely adoptive, so that s/he was, as it were, in an invisible glass case, such as s/he might find herself in, some turies later, in the Victoria and Albert Museum. Against this transparent, intangible barrier, the Puck often flatteill further his already snub nose.
The Herm removed his/her left foot from its snug in her/his crotd placed it on the ground. With one single, fluent, gracile movement of transition, s/he shifted on to the . The lotus and the snake, oher arm, stayed where they were.
The Puck, pressed tight against Titanias magic, sighed heavily, stepped back a few paces and begaically to play with himself. Have you seen fairy sperm? We mortals call it, cuckoo spit.
And no passing, clayey mortal, tramping through the wood o, heavy feet, scattering the fairies who twitter like bats in their fright, just as such a mortal could never hear them, so he would never spot the unafraid Herm, stig stock-still as a trance.
And if you did ce to spy him/her, you would think the little yellow idol was a talisman dropped from a gypsy pocket, perhaps, or a charm fallen off a girls bracelet, or else the gift from inside a very expensive cracker.
Yet, if you picked up the beautiful objed held it on the palm of your hand, you would feel how warm it was, as if somebody had been holding it tight before you came and only just put it down.
And, if you watched long enough, you would see the golden sequins of the eyelids move.
At which a wind of strangeness would rise and blow away the wood and all within it.
Just as your shadow grow big and then shrink to almost nothing, and then swell up, again, so these shadows, these insubstantial bubbles of the earth, these "beings" to whom the verb, "to be", may not be properly applied, since, in our sehey are not. They ot be; they ot cast their own shadows, for who ha<big></big>s seen the shadow of a shadow? Their existences are necessarily moot -- do you believe in fairies? Their lives lead always just teasingly almost out of the ers of the eyes of their observers, so it is possible they were only, all the time, a trick of the light. . . such half-being, with such a lack of public aowledgement, is not ducive to any kind of visual sistency among them. So they may take what shapes they please.
The Puck turn himself into anything he likes: a three-legged stool, in order to.. perpetrate the celebrated trick ("Then slip I from her bum, down topples she") so beloved in the lower forms of grammar schools when the play is read aloud round the class because it is suitable for children because it is about fairies; a baby Fiat; a grand piano; anything!
Except the lover of the Golden Herm.
In his spare moments, when he was not off about his Masters various busihe Puck, wistfully lingering outside the Herms magic circle like an ur outside a dy shop, cluded that, in order to take full advantage of the sexual facilities offered him by the Herm, should the barrier between them ever be removed -- and, unlikely as this eventuality might be, the Pucks motto was "Be Prepared"! -- if there was to be intercourse between himself and the Golden Herm, then the Herms partner would require a similar set of equipment to the Herm in order to effect maximally satisfactory gress.
Then the Puck further cluded that the equipment of the Herms hypothetical partner would need, however, to be attached in reversed order to that of the Herm, in order to procure a perfect fit and no fumbling; the Puck, a stant inquisitive spy on mortal couples e to make the beast with two backs in what they mistakenly believed to be privacy, had noticed there is a vexed question of handedness about caresses, so that all right-handed lovers truly require left-handed lovers during the prelimio the act, and Mother Nature, when she cast the human mould, took no at of foreplay, which alone distinguishes us from the beasts when we are beily.
Try, try as he might, try and try again, the Puck could not get it quite right, although, after strenuous effort, he at last succeeded in turning himself into a perfect simulacrum of the Herm and would, at odd moments, adopt the Herms form and posture and stand fag him in the wood, a living mirror of the living statue, except for the fierce ere the satyromaniac Puck could not subdue when in the presence of his love.
The Herm tio smile inscrutably, except when he sneezed.
But all of them grow BIG! then shrink down to. . . the size of dots, of less than dots, again. Every last one of them is of such elastic -- sincorporeal -- substance. sider the Queen of the Fairies.
Her very itania, bears wito her dest from the giant race of the Titans; and "desd" might seem apt enough, at first, to describe the desion when she mas herself under her alias, Mab, or, in Wales, Mabh, and rules over the other diminutives, herself the size of the solitaire in an e ring, as infinitely little as her forebears were infinitely large.
"Now, I do call my horned master, the Horn of Plenty, but as for my missus --" said the Puck, in his inimitable Worcestershire drawl.
Like a Japaer-flower dropped in a glass of water, Titania grows. . .
In the dewy wood tinselled with bewildering moonlight, the bumbling, tumbling babies of the fairy crèche trip over the hem of her dress, which is no more nor less than the margin of the wood itself; they stumble iangled grass as they play with the eys, the quick brown fox-cubs, the russet fieldmid the wee scraps of grey voles, bli Mole and striped Brock with his questing snout -- all the denizens of the woodland are her embrs, and the birds flutter round her head, settle on her shoulders and make their s in her great abundance of disordered hair, in which are plaited poppies and the ears of wheat.
The arrival of the Queen is announced by no fanfare of trumpets but the ash-soft lullaby of wood doves and the liquid coloratura blackbird. Moonlight falls like milk upon her naked breasts.
She is like a double bed; or, a table laid for a wedding breakfast; or, a fertility ic.
In her eyes are babies. When she looks at you, you helplessly reduplicate. Her eyes provoke engendering.
Corre: used to provoke.
But not this year. Frosts have blasted the fruit blossom, rain has rotted all the sarland is not gold but greenish and phosphorest with blight. The acres of the rye have been invaded with ergot and, this year, eating bread will make you mad. The floods broke down the Bridge of Ware. The beasts refuse to couple; the cow rejects the bull and the bull keeps himself to himself. Even the goats, hitherto synonymous with lechery, prefer to curl up with a good book. The very worms no litate the humus with their undulating and plex embraces. In the wood, a chaste, ventual calm reigns over everything, as if the foul weather had put everybody off.
The wonderful giantess maed herself with an owl on her shoulder and an apron-full of roses and of babies so rosy the children could scarcely be distinguished from the flowers. She picked up her defunct friends child, the Herm. The Herm stood on one leg on the palm of Titanias hand and smiled the inscrutable, if manic, smile of the figures in Hiic sculpture.
"My husband shall not have you!" cried Titania. "He shant! I shall keep you!"
At that, thunder crashed, the heavens, which, for a brief moment, had sealed themselves up, now reopened again with redoubled fury, and all the drenched babies in Titanias pinafore coughed and she worms in the rosebuds woke up at the clamour and began to gnaw.
But the Queen stowed the tiny Herm safe away between her breasts as if s/he were a locket and herself diminished until she was a suitable size to enjoy her niece or nephew or nephew/niece à choix in the obscurity of an a-cup.
"But she ot put horns on her husband, for he is antlered, already," opihe Puck, ging bato himself and skipping across the glade to the heels of his master. For no roe-buow raises his head behind that gorse bush to watch these goings on; Oberon is antlered like a ten-point stag.
Among the props of the Globe Theatre, along with the thunder-making mae and the bearskins, is listed a "robe for to go invisible". By his coat, you uand that Oberon is to remain unseen as he broods magisterial but impotent above the scarcely disible quiverings among last years oak leaves that ceal his wife and the golden bone of tention that has e between the elemental lovers.
High ihick of a dripping hedge of honeysuckle, a wee creature was extrag a tritoniuminous, luxuriantly perfumed melody from the pan-pipes of the wild woodbihe tune broke off as the player vulsed with ugly coughing. He gobbed phlegm, that flew through the air until its trajectory was interrupted by a cowslip, to whose freckled ear the translut pustule g. The infinitesimal then took up his tootling again.
The Herms golden skin is made of beaten gold but the flesh beh it has been marinated in: black pepper, red chilli, yellow turmeric, cloves, coriander, , fenugreek, ginger, mautmeg, allspice, khuskhus, garlic, tamarind, ut, dlenut, lemon grass, galangal and now and then you get -- phew! -- a whiff of asafoetida. Hot stuff! Were the Herm to be served piled up on a lordly platter and garnished with shreds of its own outer g, s/he would then resemble that royal dish, moglai biriani, which is decorated wit.９９lｉb?h edible gold shavings in order, so they say, to aid digestion. Nothing so deliciously aromatic as the Herm has ever beeed before in Englands green and pleasant land, still lab as it is at this point in time us unrelieved late medieval diet of boiled cabbage. The Herm is hot and sweet as if drenched in sun and honey, but Oberon is the colour of ashes.
The Puck, tormented for lack of the Herm, pulled up a mandrake and sunk his prodigious tool in the cleft of the relut root, which shrieked mournfully but to no avail as old shaggylugs had his way with it.
Distemperate weather! Its raining, its p; the earth is ira from itself, the withering buds tumble out of the Queens apron and rot on the mulch, for Oberon has put a stop to reprodu. But still Titania hugs the Herm to her shrivelling bosoms and will not let her husband have the wee thing, not even for one minute. Did she not give a sacred promise to a friend?
What does <s></s>the Herm want?
The Herm wants to know what "want" means.
"I am unfamiliar with the cept of desire. I am the unique and perfect, paradigmatic Hermaphrodite, provoking on all sides desire yet myself transdent, the unmoved mover, the still eye of the tempest, exemplary and self-suffit, the beginning and the end."
Titania, despairing of the Herms male aspect, ied a tentative forefinger in the female orifice. The Herm felt bored.
Oberon watched the oak leaves shiver and said nothing, for he was choked with balked longing for the golden, half and halfy thing with its salivatory perfume. He took off his invisible disguise and made himself gigantid bulked up in the night sky over the wood, arms akimbo, blotting out the moon, naked but for his buskins and his great codpiece. The mossy antlers on his forehead arent the half of it, he wears a ade out of yellowish vertebrae of uionable mammals, down from beh which his black hair drops straight as light. Since he is in his malign aspect, he has put on, furthermore, a necklace of suggestively little skulls, which might be those of the babies he has plucked from human cradles -- do not fet, in German, they call him Erl-King.
His face, breast and thighs he has daubed with charcoal; Oberon, lord of night and silence, of the grave silence of endless night, Lord of Plutonic dark. His hair, long, it never saw scissors; but he has this peculiarity<s>??</s> -- no hair at all oher chop or , nor his shins, her, but all his face bald as an egg except for the eyebrows, that meet in the middle.
Indeed, who in their right minds would trust a child to this man?
When Oberon cheers up a bit, he lets the sun e out and then hell hang little silver bells along his codpied they go jingle jangle jingle when he walks up and down and round about, the pretty king sounds suspended wriggling in the air like homunculi wherever he has passed.
And if he is not a creature of the dream, then surely you have fotten your dreams.
The Puck, too, yearning and thwarted as he was, found himself helplessly turning himself into the thing he longed for, and, uhe faintly twitg oak leaves, became yellow, metallic, double-sexed aravagantly precious-looking. There the Puck stood on ohe living image of the Herm, and glittered.
Oberon saw him.
Oberon stooped doicked up the Pud stood him, a simulated Yogic tree, on his palm. A misty look came into Oberons eyes. The Puew he had no option but to gh with it.
Atishoo!
Titania tenderly wiped the Herms h the edge of her petticoat, on which the flowers are all drooping, shedding embroidery stitches, the fruits are kering and spotting and ing undone for, if Oberon is the Horn of Plenty, then Titania is the Cauldron of Geion and, unless he gives her a stir, now and then, with his great pot stick, the cauldron will go off the boil.
Lie close and sleep, said Titania to the Herm. My fays shall lullaby you as we cuddle up on my mattress of dandelion down.
The draggled fairies obediently started in on a chorus of: "Ye spotted snakes with double tongue," but were all so afflicted by coughing and sneezing and rawness of the throat and rheumy eyes and gasping for breath and all the other symptoms of rampant influenza that their hoarse voices petered out before they reached the bit about the s and after that the only sound iire wood was the pit-pattering of the rain on the leaves.
The orchestra has laid down its instruments. The curtain rises. The play begins.
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