Act One
Â
You could tell by his house that Theseus was not without a bob or two. Big, it was. Detached. Garden like a public park.
Some people reckoned Hippolyta was marrying him for his brass. Once, sheâd been active in the womenâs movement. A braburning Amazon. Now, suddenly, here she was, engaged to the neighbourhood tycoon. It just didnât sound like her.
Nobody commented openly about any of this. Theseus was a dangerous guy; you didnât poke your nose into his business unless you wanted it chewed off. Plus Hippolyta had taken a few assertiveness courses in her time. Let
her
catch you rabbiting on and youâd end up sweeping your teeth off the floor. They were getting married, Theseus was happy about it and that was that.
In fact, Theseus could hardly wait. Now they stood side by side, in the big bay window, gazing down the garden. His arm was round her waist. He gave her a squeeze,and sighed. âNot long now, sweetheart. Four days. Dragging a bit, though.â
Hippolyta laughed. âDonât be such a wimp, Theseus, you big girlâs blouse.â Hippolyta was probably the only person in the world who could call Theseus a big girlâs blouse without waking up in hospital. âItâll pass in no time. Know why?â
Theseus shook his head. âYou tell me, sweetie pie.â
âWell, for a start, weâll spend nearly half the time sleeping. You donât know timeâs passing when youâre asleep.â She dug him in the ribs. âWeâll dream. You can be in my dream if I can be in yours.â
Theseus squeezed her waist again, and turned to Philostrate, whoâd been admiring a picture on the wall. Philostrate was the guy that Theseus had hired to arrange the wedding reception, organise the marquee, see to it that thereâd be enough chairs, supervise the caterers, line up a photographer, find anact of some sort to entertain the guests, and generally make sure the whole thing went off without a glitch.
âPhil? Why donât you go check the post? See who else has RSVPâd. Letâs hope we get more fun people than sentimental ones. Canât be doing with folk having a good cry all over the place when I havenât even tortured âem.â
Philostrate scribbled a memo in his notebook and left. He was a professional. Everything would be fine.
Theseus turned fondly to Hippolyta. âHave I ever told you, Hippo, how muchâ¦â
âDonât call me Hippo,â snarled Hippolyta. âMakes me sound obese. If you
must
abbreviate my name, whatâs wrong with Lyta?â
âLyta, then,â smiled Theseus. âHave I everâ¦â
Somebody knocked on the door. Theseus sighed and called, âCome in.â
The door opened to reveal Egeus, a manager in one of the tycoonâs enterprises. He had his daughter with him, and two young men Theseus hardly knew. Egeus looked nervous.
âI ⦠er, hope we havenât interrupted something important, sir. I know how busy you must be at this time.â
Theseus shook his head. âDonât worry about it. What can we do for you, Egeus?â
The manager indicated the girl beside him. âItâs my daughter, Hermia. Iâve arranged a marriage for her, to this young man.â He nodded toward one of the youths. âHis nameâs Demetrius. Heâs a good lad. Steady. Make a very suitable husband. But she says no, wonât have him at any price. Iâve tried every way I know to persuade her. She wonât budge.â
Theseus gazed at the girl. âYou must obey your father, child. Itâs the way I like things done, and you know what tends to happen to people who upset me, donât you?â
Hermia held the tycoonâs gaze. âI do, sir, but I love this man.â She pointed. âHis nameâs Lysander, and Iâll marry only him.â
â
Lysander
,â spat Egeus. âWorthless youth.