Quince and Starveling. Save us, good Snug, how art thou transmogrified!
Snug. Not so, neither, neighbours both. I am but Snug the joiner, as you might behold him of any working day, but you twain, methinks, are most marvellously encountered.
Quince and Starveling. Speak for yourself, Master Snug: we are the same as you have known us ever.
Quince. That is, I am the same, but Master Starveling is quite other than the simple man he was.
Starveling. Thou liest, Peter Quince. I am but plain Robin Starveling, but you are become a very monster.
Re-enter Snout, with a deer’s head and horns.
Quince. Good masters three, you are enchanted, and pity o’ my life it is. ’Tis I alone that doth remain as much mankind as I was ever.
Snout. An’ you count yourself the proper likeness of a man you are most horribly mistook, and so it is, Peter Quince.
Re-enter Flute, with the head of a crocodile.
Flute. O neighbours all, what behold I here? What sorcerer has thus exorcised upon you? O could you be spy upon yourselves to know how unlike you are to plain citizens like me.