A Mid-Autumn's Night Dream

or

Titus Anewt

Being an tragi-comic comedic tragedy
by
William fhakefpeare

SCENE I: Ye Three horfefhoef, feer Green (try sticking that into Google Maps and see where you end up)
[ENTER MIKE, an aging thesp and our hare for the evening]
MIKE: Lo, what ill-gathered brood of hellfpawn if thif I fee before me?
THE HASH (for it is they): It if uf! Wither fhall we run?
MIKE: Run when you will, the story shall be changed: Apollo flies, and Daphne holds the chase; The dove pursues the griffin; the mild hind Makes speed to catch the tiger; bootless speed, When cowardice pursues and valour flies.
ROGER, ye GM: Oi! If there'f incoherent nonfenfe to be fpouted on thif hafh, then I'm the one to do it!
[NOISES OFF, viz, "On On"]
[EXEUNT THE HASH and afforted houndes]

SCENE II: Ye long/fhort fplit, Hodgemoor Woodf
AARON, a hasher: Fear not, fweet Hellef Bellf, I fhall protect you from any rampaging farm animalf like what we came acroff laft week
MIKE: A woman would run through fire and water for such a kind heart.
MATT, a cowherd: Cowards die many times before their deaths; the valiant never taste of death but once.
GERRY, a learnéd gent.: Here be holef! Here be rootf! Minde thy headf!
DICK of the STEAMING PATE: Wisely, and slow. They stumble that run fast.
SIMON, a squire, known as WHIPPING BOY: Thither I fee a bridge!
MIKE: Smooth runs the water where the brook is deep.
AN UNKNOWN HASHER: On On!

SCENE III: Botterellf Lane, hard by Chalfont ft Gilef
ANDY, a large-footed fellow: What manner of fence if thif? I touch it, and mine arm tingleth!
MIKE: Our wills and fates do so contrary run.
ANDY: Eh?
ALEX, Master of the Hound: Time and the hour run through the roughest day.
FOOPER COOPER: Bid me run, and I will strive with things impossible (such as my kneef).
KITTY COOPER: For some must watch, while some must sleep. So runs the world away.
SIMON 2.0, a dashing gent.: Any idea how far we've run? My GPF iF on the blink again.
ADE, an grey-locked agéd hasher: Our wills and fates do so contrary run, that our devices still are overthrown; Our thoughts are ours, their ends none of our own.
THE COMPANY: On On!

SCENE IV: A crowded bar at The Three Horfefhoef, feer Green. A game of fnooker if underway, and on the telly Liverpool are beating Arfenal 2-1.
MIKE: Time is come round, And where I did begin there shall I end; My hash has run its compass.
A SERVING WENCH: The kitchen'f clofed, but I can do you fome cheefe & onion crifpf?
THE HASH, to a man and woman: NO! WE DEMANDETH CHIPF!!
SERVING WENCH, fleeing from the scene: I'll fee what I can ruftle up...
ROGER, ye GM: Hear ye! Hear ye! I have much to fay!
[A moaning issues from THE HASH]
MIKE: Thou hast seen a farmer's dog bark at a beggar? And the creature run from the cur. There thou mightst behold the great image of authority - a dog's obeyed in office.
[EXEUNT OMNES, in pursuit of a beer]