Peter Quince. Robin Starveling speaks well and to the centre of the matter. Know then, good bully Bottom, we are translated as yourself, but methinks you have lost more in the translating than have we; is’t not e’en so, masters all?
All. Right, good Peter Quince.
Bottom. I have lost nothing that should cause you envy, good friends all, and so I assure you. [Brays loudly] What say you then to my voice? Is my voice perished?
Tom Snout. No, Nick Bottom.
Bottom. I thank you, good Tom Snout, and to show you that I am the same Nick Bottom, however my visage may appear altered, for travel doth greatly age a man, as they say, you shall hear me wake the echoes once again.
[Brays a second time, more loudly.
Quince. Methinks your voice, good Bottom, has lost somewhat of sweetness.
Bottom. That’s all one, good Peter Quince, for the simple truth of the matter is that you have no such delicate ear for fine harmonies as I am endow’d with.
[Strokes his ears.
Quince. It doth seem so on more properer consideration, and I had an ear that were the parallax of yours ’twere pity of my life.