ACT 3, SCENE 1: 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
Is hard at study; pray now, rest yourself;                                               [20]
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.

MIRANDA:                           If you'll sit down,
I'll bear your logs the while: pray, give me that;
I'll carry it to the pile.                                                                                [25]

FERDINAND:                           No, precious creature;
I had rather crack my sinews, break my back,
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,                                [30]
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
When you are by at night. I do beseech you--
Chiefly that I might set it in my prayers--                                           [35]
What is your name?

MIRANDA:                           Miranda.--O my father,
I have broke your hest to say so!

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                                    [40]
The harmony of their tongues hath into bondage
Brought my too diligent ear: for several virtues
Have I liked several women; never any
With so full soul, but some defect in her
Did quarrel with the noblest grace she owed                                       [45]
And put it to the foil: but you, O you,
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                               [50]
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,                                                 [55]
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
A prince, Miranda; I do think, a king;                                                   [60]
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
My heart fly to your service; there resides,                                           [65]
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
And crown what I profess with kind event
If I speak true! if hollowly, invert                                                         [70]
What best is boded me to mischief! I
Beyond all limit of what else i' the world
Do love, prize, honour you.

MIRANDA:                           I am a fool
To weep at what I am glad of.

PROSPERO:                           Fair encounter
Of two most rare affections! Heavens rain grace                               [75]
On that which breeds between 'em!

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,                                                [80]
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,                                         [85]
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
As bondage e'er of freedom: here's my hand.

MIRANDA: And mine, with my heart in't; and now farewell                   [90]
Till half an hour hence.

FERDINAND:                           A thousand thousand!

[Exeunt FERDINAND and MIRANDA severally.]

PROSPERO: So glad of this as they I cannot be,
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                                               [95]
Much business appertaining.


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