I.
Beauty is but a vain, and doubtful good,
  A shining gloss, that fadeth suddenly—
A flower that dies when first it 'gins to bud,
  A brittle glass, that's broken presently.
    A doubtful good, a gloss, a glass, a flower!
    Lost, faded, broken, dead within an hour!

II.
And, as goods lost, are seldom—never found,
  As faded gloss no rubbing will refresh;
As flowers dead, lie wither'd on the ground,
  As broken glass no cement can redress,
    So beauty blemish'd once, for ever's lost,
    In spite of art, of painting, pain and cost.

Bal.
'Tis well—good night—and yet forsooth, 'tis strange
If such the power of Adriana's charms,
Another's glances should but now so wound! [Antipholis looks confused.

Deny it not—deny not that within,
Sharing our revelry; even at first sight
Circean Lesbia's smiles—

Ant. of Eph. (agitated.)
Lesbia's!

Balt.
Aye, Lesbia's! and not thyself, hast thou to thank
For this thy honourable safe retreat,
But a bold rival—ha! behold he comes!
And with him—Cerimon. Enter Cerimon and Etesiphon.

Cer.
How now, forsooth!
Break up our social board! leave us Antipholis?

Bal.
As 'tis his custom—love is still victorious.
That senior-junior, giant dwarf, Dan Cupid;
Regent of love rhimes, lord of folded arms,
The anointed sovereign of sighs and groans;
Dread prince of plackets, and great general
Of trotting paritors—he, this whimpering, whining,
Pur-blind boy, still leads him to a wife—
A woman, that is like a German clock—
Ever repairing—

Ant. of Eph.
Nay—nay—Balthazar—

Cer. (taking his hand)
Come, be prevailed on—
For once, at least, Antipholis,—and hark!—
The hollow murmuring of the wind
Forebodes a stormy night.

Ant. of Eph.
Well!—since you'll have it so—
But think not that I heed the storm.
No—no—my friends.

GLEE.—(As you Like it.)
  Blow, blow, thou wintry wind,
  Thou art not so unkind
    As man's ingratitude:
  Thy tooth is not so keen,
  Because thou art not seen,
    Although thy breath be rude.
Heigh, ho! sing heigh, ho! unto the green holly;
Most friendship is failing,—most loving mere folly.
      Then heigh, ho! the holly!
      This life is most jolly. [Exeunt. END OF THE FIRST ACT.