| ACT III SCENE I | Before PROSPERO'S Cell. | |
| [Enter FERDINAND, bearing a log] |
| FERDINAND | There be some sports are painful, and their labour |
| Delight in them sets off: some kinds of baseness |
| Are nobly undergone and most poor matters |
| Point to rich ends. This my mean task |
| Would be as heavy to me as odious, but | 5 |
| The mistress which I serve quickens what's dead |
| And makes my labours pleasures: O, she is |
| Ten times more gentle than her father's crabbed, |
| And he's composed of harshness. I must remove |
| Some thousands of these logs and pile them up, | 10 |
| Upon a sore injunction: my sweet mistress |
| Weeps when she sees me work, and says, such baseness |
| Had never like executor. I forget: |
| But these sweet thoughts do even refresh my labours, |
| Most busy lest, when I do it. | 15 |
| [Enter MIRANDA; and PROSPERO at a distance, unseen] |
| MIRANDA | Alas, now, pray you, |
| Work not so hard: I would the lightning had |
| Burnt up those logs that you are enjoin'd to pile! |
| Pray, set it down and rest you: when this burns, |
| 'Twill weep for having wearied you. My father | 20 |
| Is hard at study; pray now, rest yourself; |
| He's safe for these three hours. |
| FERDINAND | O most dear mistress, |
| The sun will set before I shall discharge |
| What I must strive to do. | 25 |
| MIRANDA | If you'll sit down, |
| I'll bear your logs the while: pray, give me that; |
| I'll carry it to the pile. |
| FERDINAND | No, precious creature; |
| I had rather crack my sinews, break my back, | 30 |
| Than you should such dishonour undergo, |
| While I sit lazy by. |
| MIRANDA | It would become me |
| As well as it does you: and I should do it |
| With much more ease; for my good will is to it, | 35 |
| And yours it is against. |
| PROSPERO | Poor worm, thou art infected! |
| This visitation shows it. |
| MIRANDA | You look wearily. |
| FERDINAND | No, noble mistress;'tis fresh morning with me | 40 |
| When you are by at night. I do beseech you-- |
| Chiefly that I might set it in my prayers-- |
| What is your name? |
| MIRANDA | Miranda.--O my father, |
| I have broke your hest to say so! | 45 |
| FERDINAND | Admired Miranda! |
| Indeed the top of admiration! worth |
| What's dearest to the world! Full many a lady |
| I have eyed with best regard and many a time |
| The harmony of their tongues hath into bondage | 50 |
| Brought my too diligent ear: for several virtues |
| Have I liked several women; never any |
| With so fun soul, but some defect in her |
| Did quarrel with the noblest grace she owed |
| And put it to the foil: but you, O you, | 55 |
| So perfect and so peerless, are created |
| Of every creature's best! |
| MIRANDA | I do not know |
| One of my sex; no woman's face remember, |
| Save, from my glass, mine own; nor have I seen | 60 |
| More that I may call men than you, good friend, |
| And my dear father: how features are abroad, |
| I am skilless of; but, by my modesty,
|
| The jewel in my dower, I would not wish |
| Any companion in the world but you, | 65 |
| Nor can imagination form a shape, |
| Besides yourself, to like of. But I prattle |
| Something too wildly and my father's precepts |
| I therein do forget. |
| FERDINAND | I am in my condition | 70 |
| A prince, Miranda; I do think, a king; |
| I would, not so!--and would no more endure |
| This wooden slavery than to suffer |
| The flesh-fly blow my mouth. Hear my soul speak: |
| The very instant that I saw you, did | 75 |
| My heart fly to your service; there resides, |
| To make me slave to it; and for your sake |
| Am I this patient log--man. |
| MIRANDA | Do you love me? |
| FERDINAND | O heaven, O earth, bear witness to this sound | 80 |
| And crown what I profess with kind event |
| If I speak true! if hollowly, invert |
| What best is boded me to mischief! I |
| Beyond all limit of what else i' the world |
| Do love, prize, honour you. | 85 |
| MIRANDA | I am a fool |
| To weep at what I am glad of. |
| PROSPERO | Fair encounter |
| Of two most rare affections! Heavens rain grace |
| On that which breeds between 'em! | 90 |
| FERDINAND | Wherefore weep you? |
| MIRANDA | At mine unworthiness that dare not offer |
| What I desire to give, and much less take |
| What I shall die to want. But this is trifling; |
| And all the more it seeks to hide itself, | 95 |
| The bigger bulk it shows. Hence, bashful cunning! |
| And prompt me, plain and holy innocence! |
| I am your wife, it you will marry me; |
| If not, I'll die your maid: to be your fellow |
| You may deny me; but I'll be your servant, | 100 |
| Whether you will or no. |
| FERDINAND | My mistress, dearest; |
| And I thus humble ever. |
| MIRANDA | My husband, then? |
| FERDINAND | Ay, with a heart as willing | 105 |
| As bondage e'er of freedom: here's my hand. |
| MIRANDA | And mine, with my heart in't; and now farewell |
| Till half an hour hence. |
| FERDINAND | A thousand thousand! |
| [Exeunt FERDINAND and MIRANDA severally] |
| PROSPERO | So glad of this as they I cannot be, | 110 |
| Who are surprised withal; but my rejoicing |
| At nothing can be more. I'll to my book, |
| For yet ere supper-time must I perform |
| Much business appertaining. |
| [Exit] |
