Act III. Scene I.
Before PROSPERO’S Cell. |
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Enter FERDINAND, bearing a log. |
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| Fer. There be some sports are painful, and their labour | |
| Delight in them sets off: some kinds of baseness | 4 |
| Are nobly undergone, and most poor matters | |
| Point to rich ends. This my mean task | |
| Would be as heavy to me as odious; but | |
| The mistress which I serve quickens what’s dead | 8 |
| And makes my labours pleasures: O! she is | |
| Ten times more gentle than her father’s crabbed, | |
| And he’s compos’d of harshness. I must remove | |
| Some thousands of these logs and pile them up, | 12 |
| 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, | 16 |
| Most busiest when I do it. | |
Enter MIRANDA; and PROSPERO behind. |
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| Mira. Alas! now, pray you, | |
| Work not so hard: I would the lightning had | 20 |
| 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 | |
| Is hard at study; pray now, rest yourself: | 24 |
| He’s safe for these three hours. | |
| Fer. O most dear mistress, | |
| The sun will set, before I shall discharge | |
| What I must strive to do. | 28 |
| Mira. If you’ll sit down, | |
| I’ll bear your logs the while. Pray, give me that; | |
| I’ll carry it to the pile. | |
| Fer. No, precious creature: | 32 |
| I had rather crack my sinews, break my back, | |
| Than you should such dishonour undergo, | |
| While I sit lazy by. | |
| Mira. It would become me | 36 |
| As well as it does you: and I should do it | |
| With much more ease; for my good will is to it, | |
| And yours it is against. | |
| Pro. [Aside.] Poor worm! thou art infected: | 40 |
| This visitation shows it. | |
| Mira. You look wearily. | |
| Fer. No, noble mistress; ’tis fresh morning with me | |
| When you are by at night. I do beseech you— | 44 |
| Chiefly that I might set it in my prayers— | |
| What is your name? | |
| Mira. Miranda.—O my father! | |
| I have broke your hest to say so. | 48 |
| Fer. Admir’d Miranda! | |
| Indeed, the top of admiration; worth | |
| What’s dearest to the world! Full many a lady | |
| I have ey’d with best regard, and many a time | 52 |
| The harmony of their tongues hath into bondage | |
| Brought my too diligent ear: for several virtues | |
| Have I lik’d several women; never any | |
| With so full soul but some defect in her | 56 |
| Did quarrel with the noblest grace she ow’d, | |
| And put it to the foil: but you, O you! | |
| So perfect and so peerless, are created | |
| Of every creature’s best. | 60 |
| Mira. I do not know | |
| One of my sex; no woman’s face remember, | |
| Save, from my glass, mine own: nor have I seen | |
| More that I may call men than you, good friend, | 64 |
| And my dear father: how features are abroad, | |
| I am skill-less of; but, by my modesty,— | |
| The jewel in my dower,—I would not wish | |
| Any companion in the world but you; | 68 |
| 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. | 72 |
| Fer. I am in my condition | |
| A prince, Miranda; I do think, a king;— | |
| I would not so!—and would no more endure | |
| This wooden slavery than to suffer | 76 |
| The flesh-fly blow my mouth.—Hear my soul speak:— | |
| The very instant that I saw you did | |
| My heart fly to your service; there resides, | |
| To make me slave to it; and for your sake | 80 |
| Am I this patient log-man. | |
| Mira. Do you love me? | |
| Fer. O heaven! O earth! bear witness to this sound, | |
| And crown what I profess with kind event | 84 |
| 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. | 88 |
| Mira. I am a fool | |
| To weep at what I am glad of. | |
| Pro. [Aside.] Fair encounter | |
| Of two most rare affections! Heavens rain grace | 92 |
| On that which breeds between them! | |
| Fer. Wherefore weep you? | |
| Mira. At mine unworthiness, that dare not offer | |
| What I desire to give; and much less take | 96 |
| What I shall die to want. But this is trifling; | |
| And all the more it seeks to hide itself | |
| The bigger bulk it shows. Hence, bashful cunning! | |
| And prompt me, plain and holy innocence! | 100 |
| I am your wife, if 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 | |
| Whether you will or no. | 104 |
| Fer. My mistress, dearest; | |
| And I thus humble ever. | |
| Mira. My husband then? | |
| Fer. Ay, with a heart as willing | 108 |
| As bondage e’er of freedom: here’s my hand. | |
| Mira. And mine, with my heart in’t: and now farewell | |
| Till half an hour hence. | |
| Fer. A thousand thousand! [Exeunt FER. and MIR. severally. | 112 |
| Pro. So glad of this as they, I cannot be, | |
| Who are surpris’d withal; but my rejoicing | |
| At nothing can be more. I’ll to my book; | |
| For yet, ere supper time, must I perform | 116 |
| Much business appertaining. [Exit. |