Were The World Mine Page #2

just to spawn Nora Fay.

Come, dear.

"And the youth, mistook by me,

Pleading for a lover's fee."

I don't even know

what I'm saying.

That will come.

"Shall we their

fond pageant see?

Lord, what fools

these mortals be!"

Agreed, indeed!

Let's sing.

Sing?

Now you.

- I don't know it.

- Follow me.

Lu, lu, lu...

With the lyrics...

A deep breath.

# WE FAIRIES, THAT DO RUN #

# FROM THE PRESENCE

OF THE SUN #

# WE FOLLOW...

DARKNESS #

# LIKE A DREAM... #

# LIKE A DREAM #

Who's that?

# WE FAIRIES,

THAT DO RUN #

# FROM THE PRESENCE

OF THE SUN #

# WE FOLLOW...

DARKNESS #

# LIKE A DREAM... #

# LIKE A DREAM #

# ALL BE AS THOU

WAST WONT TO BE #

# SEE AS THOU WAS WONT TO SEE #

# BE AS THOU WAS WONT TO BE #

# SEE AS THOU

WAST WONT TO SEE... #

Looks like I'm one

of the lovers.

I'm not shaving.

At least you're not

the jackass.

At least the jackass

doesn't have to wear a dress!

What is Thisby?

Is that a chick?

Congratulations, gentlemen.

Awaken and empower

what's within!

Nice pipes.

I heard your audition.

I saw the list.

Good afternoon.

It's going to be superb.

So many fascinating...

I thought I told you my boys

don't got time for those parts.

Must I remind you that

Morgan Hill philosophy

clearly states that academics

transcends athletics?

Larry'll side with me

on this one.

I'll note you in my

book of memory.

Puck!

He's Puck in the play.

- What play?

- The senior play.

He's the main fairy.

- A fairy?

- It's a great part.

A fairy?!

A kick-ass fairy.

You have lines to memorize.

We need a plan of attack.

This is great.

Sick, aren't they?

Sick.

"I jest to Oberon

and make him smile

When I a fat and

bean-fed horse beguile,

Neighing in likeness

of a filly foal:

And sometime lurk I

in a gossip's bowl,

In very likeness

of a roasted crab,

And when she drinks,

against her lips I bob"

This is for Helena.

Where's the rest of it?

One of my personal favorites!

Patience, Dr. Bellinger.

I've not forgotten

about your frock.

These are for the

Pyramus and Thisby finale,

which I have reinvented

as an incredibly hip song.

That's hot, Ms. T.

Shakespeare was meant

for the masses.

"How now, spirit!

Whither wander you?"

"Either I mistake your shape

and making quite,

Or else you are that shrewd

and knavish sprite

Call'd Robin Goodfellow:

are you not he that frights

the maidens of the villagery?"

"Thou speak'st aright;

I am that merry wanderer

of the night."

Now remember, my dear -

there are no limitations.

You're early.

Oh... we could...

Couldn't wait one moment more

to show off my newest protege.

Nora Fay!

I'm honored.

Did you bring the new lotions?

Darling, we brought everything!

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