Casting (2)

My casting call: to be least, last, lowest

Bottom

Should I be such a fool?

I would rather be

The benevolent despot.

“I could play a part to make all split

The raging rocks

And shivering shocks

Shall break the locks

Of prison gates;”

Or I could take the lion’s part

And roar.

do any man’s heart good to hear me;”

But no.

My part is to be a lover,

And one who dies for love, at that.

I long to be.

Bard.

A word weaver of tender truth.

Lord, God

Would that instead

I could speak half so well.

As that holy, humble

Dumb Ox

Or any of the blessed company.

Yet I fear that I ramble like a talking ass.

Still.

Let me be.

Bottom.

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