His fellows play upon his ignorance
And of his strange beguilement make their sport.
Bottom. Since it is conceded by all of you that I have lost nothing by translation, doth it not follow, moreover, that I have somewhat gained by that same adventure?
Flute. In good truth you have gained by somewhat, Nick Bottom.
Bottom. I were an ass, indeed, an’ I had not.
Snug. And twice an ass, moreover, should he be that would go about to steal it from you.
Bottom. Methinks that I could munch a savoury salad of thistles with much stomach to’t.
Quince. Your thistles be a thought too biting for my stomach.
Bottom. ’Tis but likely. I was ever a choice feeder. But, masters, was there not some matter toward, or have you assembled yourselves but to greet me, and, as ’twere, fittingly?
Quince. You speak quite to the matter, good Bottom. That is indeed the true end of our beginning. To behold your winsome visage in this unwonted place is great joy to us simple mechanicals, yet we be nevertheless bold to proclaim to you that to shave were not amiss to one of your condition. For but bethink you, and you were to come amongst ladies thus grievously beset with hair would shame us all.