the bearded lady

The faeries at the bottom of the garden are building a theatre in which, they say, they intend to deliver virtuoso performances of the Vast Faerie Canon, beginning – naturally – with A Midsummer’s Night Dream, which the faeries say was writ by a fellow name of Tom, and not (as is widely believed) by that prolific wearer of ladies’ undergarments, Old Willy Shakspeare.

The Faerie Theatre will not have a roof or walls (or seats, or a stage), on account of how the faeries very much prefer the open air and are outdoorsy folk who have: a) a patient and accepting approach to the vagaries of our English weather, and b) umbrellas.

Performances will take place continuously, with a rotating cast of players, and in no particular order, and having no regard for the sense of things, as the folk reckon they like meaning more than sense and find you can fit more meaning into a paper bag than you can apples, especially if you take the apples out first.

Entrance will be free, but the audience will be assumed to be giving their own performances and artistic interpretations of the play, and may therefore be subjected to unexpected wild applause or light bombardments. All players shall be kept quite drunk with cider, berry wine and other alcohols, this libation being a little known but essential intricacy of the Craft. It is predicted that dancing or other merriment will break out, and scenes of vulgar abandon may be enacted, and obscene articles may be sung or spoken, and all participants are likely to be stupefied or struck dumb by love or liquor.

This is all quite natural and in keeping with the spirit of the play and the verse.