Bottom wakes after being transformed into a donkey and wooed by the fairy queen Titania. In his confused state, he tries to describe his magical experience but hilariously muddles his words and senses.
Act 4, Scene 1. Bottom has spent the night in the forest with an ass's head on his shoulders, having been transformed by Puck and then loved by Titania, queen of the fairies, who fed him on apricots and had her fairies scratch his head. While he slept, Oberon released Titania from her enchantment and Puck removed the ass's head. The fairies and the sleeping lovers have just been discovered by Theseus's hunting party and led away. Bottom is left alone in the clearing. He wakes thinking he is still in rehearsal — his first words are picking up his cue from the rehearsal he was attending when Puck transformed him hours earlier. Then, slowly, he realises he is alone, that something has happened, and that what he remembers makes no sense. The other mechanicals are back in Athens believing he is lost forever.
Bottom is not stupid, and the speech depends on the audience seeing that. He is a man trying to articulate an experience that genuinely exceeds his language. What he wants, specifically, is to hold onto the experience — to remember it, to make sense of it, to turn it into something he can use. The famous mangling of Corinthians ("The eye of man hath not heard, the ear of man hath not seen") is not played for him as a mistake; he is reaching for the only frame he has for something inexpressible, and scripture is what comes to hand. Underneath is genuine awe, mild bewilderment about his own body (the speech is full of half-references to ass-features without quite naming them), and the working actor's instinct to turn the experience into material — by the end he has decided to commission a ballad called "Bottom's Dream" and have Peter Quince write it.
Do not play Bottom as a fool. He is a tradesman who takes himself seriously, and the comedy comes from that seriousness colliding with what just happened to him. Wake genuinely — the cue "When my cue comes, call me, and I will answer" should come out of real sleep, picking up a thought from hours ago. The realisation that no one is there should be a slow scan of the empty stage, not a comic double-take. Mark the moment "Methought I was — there is no man can tell what" — that is where he tries to name it and fails, and the failure should be specific, not generic vagueness. The Corinthians mangling needs precision; if you generalise it, the joke dies. Each sense-organ swap ("the eye of man hath not heard, the ear of man hath not seen, man's hand is not able to taste, his tongue to conceive, nor his heart to report") should be a fresh attempt, not a list. The shift to "I will get Peter Quince to write a ballad of this dream" is the practical man returning. He has decided what to do with the vision: monetise it. That is funny and human, not a let-down.
An excellent short Shakespeare comedy piece for men, particularly character actors, and significantly under-used in audition rooms compared to most Shakespeare comic monologues. It shows you can play simplicity without condescending to the character, handle prose with rhythm, and find genuine wonder without sentimentality — all useful indicators for both classical and screen comedy castings. Works well for MFA auditions, classical company generals (especially Dream productions), and as a contrast piece showing comic range alongside a heavier selection. It is a strong choice for actors who read warm and grounded. Avoid it if your instinct is to play "thick" or buffoonish — the speech depends on Bottom's dignity. Also avoid if you cannot land the Corinthians passage cleanly; the comedy is in the specific misquoting, not in general goofiness.
When my cue comes, call me, and I will answer:
my next is, 'Most fair Pyramus.' Heigh-ho! Peter
Quince! Flute, the bellows-mender! Snout, the
tinker! Starveling! God's my life, stolen hence
and left me asleep! I have had a most rare
vision. I have had a dream, past the wit of man to
say what dream it was: man is but an ass, if he go
about to expound this dream. Methought I was—there
is no man can tell what. Methought I was,—and
methought I had,—but man is but a patched fool, if
he will offer to say what methought I had. The eye
of man hath not heard, the ear of man hath not
seen, man's hand is not able to taste, his tongue
to conceive, nor his heart to report, what my dream
was. I will get Peter Quince to write a ballad of
this dream: it shall be called Bottom's Dream,
because it hath no bottom.