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, ha! 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.

ACT II. SCENE I.

A ROOM IN THE HOUSE OF ANTIPHOLIS OF EPHESUS.

Adr. Neither my husband, nor the slave return'd, That, in such haste, I sent to look for him? Sure, Luciana, it is two o'clock.

Luc. Perhaps, some merchant has invited him, And, from the mart, he's somewhere gone to dinner. Good sister, let us dine and never fret,

A man is master of his liberty;

Will come, or go; therefore be patient, sister.

Adr. Why should their liberty be more than ours? Luc. Because their business still lies out of door. Adr. Look, when I serve him so, he takes it ill. Luc. He is the bridle of your actions, sister. Adr. None, but an idiot, would be bridled so. Luc. Why, headstrong liberty belongs to man, And ill befits a woman's gentle mind. There's nothing situate under Heaven's eye, But hath its bound, in earth, in sea, and air: The beasts, the fishes, and the winged tribes, Are their males' subjects, and at their controul : Man, more divine, the master of them all,

Indu'd with intellectual sense and soul,
Is master to his female; nay, her lord:
Let then your will attend on his commands.

Adr. This servitude makes you remain unwed. Luc. Not this; but troubles of the marriage state. Adr. But, were you wedded, you would bear some rule.

Luc. Before I wed, I'll practice to obey.

Adr. How, if your husband start some other where?

Luc. With all the gentle, artificial means
That patient meekness and domestic cares
Could bring to my relief, I would beguile
The intervening hours, 'till he, tir'd out
With empty transient pleasures, should return,
To seek content and happiness at home:
With smiles I'd welcome him, and put in practice
Each soothing art that kindness could suggest,
To wean his mind from such delusive joys.
Adr. O special reasoning! Well may they be
- patient,

Who never had a cause for anger given them.
How easily we cure another's grief!

But were we burden'd with like weight of woe,
As much, or more, we should ourselves complain :
Patience I've none-no-I shall haply share

The fate of her, we have so oft lamented

Poor love-lorn Barbara!

Luc.

Barbara!-nay sister

D

[Taking her hand.

Adr. She had a song of-willow!--An old thing It was; but it expressed her fortune.

SONG.-(Othello.)

The poor soul sat sighing by a sycamore tree,
Sing all a green willow:

Her hand on her bosom, her head on her knee,
Sing willow, willow, willow:

The fresh stream ran by her, and murmur'd her

moans,

Sing willow, willow, willow:

Her soft tears fell from her, and soften'd the stones, Sing willow, willow, willow.

Luc. Here comes your man; now is your husband near.

Enter Dromio of Ephesus.

Adr. Say, is your tardy master now at hand? Dr. of Eph. Nay, he's at two hands with me, and that my two ears can witness.

Adr. Say, didst thou speak with him? know'st thou his mind?

Dr. of Eph. Ay, ay; he told his mind upon my

ear:

Beshrew his hand, I scarce could understand it.

Luc. Spake he so doubtfully, thou could'st not find

His meaning?

Dr. of Eph. Nay; he struck so plainly, I could too well feel his blows; and with all so doubtfully, that I could scarce understand them.

Adr. But say, I pray thee, is he coming home? It seems, he hath great care to please his wife! Dr. of Eph. Why, mistress, sure, my master is horn-mad.

Luc. Horn-mad, thou villain!

Dr of Eph. I mean not cuckold-mad; but, sure, stark-mad.

When I desir'd him to come home to dinner,

He ask'd me for a thousand marks of gold.
'Tis dinner-time, quoth I:--My gold, quoth he-
Your meat doth burn, quoth I:- -My gold quoth he:
Where are the thousand marks I gave thee, villain ?
The pig, quoth I, is burn'd:-My gold, quoth he :---
My mistress, sir, quoth I:-Hang up thy mistress!
I do not know thy mistress :-out on thy mistress!
Luc. Quoth who?

Dr of Eph. Quoth my master:

I know, quoth he, no house, no wife, no mistress;
So that, my errand, due unto my tongue,

I thank him, I bare home upon my shoulders ;
For, in conclusion, he did beat me hither.

Adr. Go back again, thou slave, and fetch him home.

Dr. of Eph. Go back again, and be new beaten home?

For heaven's sake, send some other messenger.