A Midsummer Night's Dream (National Theatre version) - Bottom/Oberon
The wedding reception is crowded. Bottom tries not to be intimidated by the grand folk swirling around him. He’s nervous, although he knows the play was well received, especially by the Duke who cheered and applauded in all the right places (and several unexpected places too). In fact, he suspects it’s the Duke who’s making him nervous. He’s never set eyes on Theseus until today and yet those eyes feel fairy familiar, and they follow him around the room with unswerving intensity. He feels his chest puff out, his chin lift. That he, a weaver, could snare such a Duke.
In his forest bower, Oberon waits, his attendants at the ready. He knows Puck is lurking somewhere in the distance, turning gleeful somersaults. He cares not a whit. His eyes are on the party, and the large, dark, delectable form of his weaver, his Bottom. The moon brightens and Oberon feels his power come upon him. “Bring him to me,” he commands. There is music streaming from the party and Oberon’s hips twerk irresistibly, anticipating the night to come.
Bottom arrives, mesmerised by the fairy king’s glistening body, working itself up to a writhe.