| |
[Before Prospero’s cell]
Enter FERDINAND, bearing a log
Fer. 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 | 4 |
| Would be as heavy to me as odious, but | |
| 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, | 8 |
| And he’s compos’d of harshness. I must remove | |
| Some thousands of these logs and pile them up, | |
| Upon a sore injunction. 1 My sweet mistress | |
| Weeps when she sees me work, and says such baseness | 12 |
| Had never like executor. 2 I forget; | |
| But these sweet thoughts do even refresh my labours, | |
| Most busy least, when I do it. | |
| |
Enter MIRANDA; and PROSPERO[at a distance, unseen]
Mir. Alas, now, pray you, | 16 |
| 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. | |
| Fer. O most dear mistress, | |
| The sun will set before I shall discharge | 24 |
| What I must strive to do. | |
| Mir. If you’ll sit down, | |
| I’ll bear your logs the while. Pray, give me that; | |
| I’ll carry it to the pile. | 28 |
| Fer. No, precious creature; | |
| I had rather crack my sinews, break my back, | |
| Than you should such dishonour undergo, | |
| While I sit lazy by. | 32 |
| Mir. 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, | |
| And yours it is against. | 36 |
| Pros. Poor worm, thou art infected! 3 | |
| This visitation 4 shows it. | |
| Mir. You look wearily. | |
| Fer. 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? | |
| Mir. Miranda.—O my father, | 44 |
| I have broke your hest to say so! | |
| Fer. Admir’d Miranda! | |
| Indeed the top of admiration! worth | |
| What’s dearest to the world! Full many a lady | 48 |
| I have ey’d with best regard, and many a time | |
| The harmony of their tongues hath into bondage | |
| Brought my too diligent ear; for several virtues | |
| Have I lik’d several women, never any | 52 |
| With so full soul, but some defect in her | |
| Did quarrel with the noblest grace she ow’d 5 | |
| And put it to the foil; 6 but you, O you, | |
| So perfect and so peerless, are created | 56 |
| Of every creature’s best! | |
| Mir. 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 7 of; but, by my modesty, | |
| The jewel in my dower, I would not wish | 64 |
| Any companion in the world but you, | |
| Nor can imagination form a shape, | |
| Besides yourself, to like of. But I prattle | |
| Something too wildly, and my father’s precepts | 68 |
| I therein do forget. | |
| Fer. I am in my condition | |
| A prince, Miranda; I do think, a king; | |
| I would, not so!—and would no more endure | 72 |
| This wooden 8 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, | 76 |
| To make me slave to it; and for your sake | |
| Am I this patient log-man. | |
| Mir. Do you love me? | |
| Fer. 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 | 84 |
| Do love, prize, honour you. | |
| Mir. I am a fool | |
| To weep at what I am glad of. | |
| Pros. Fair encounter | 88 |
| Of two most rare affections! Heavens rain grace | |
| On that which breeds between ’em! | |
| Fer. Wherefore weep you? | |
| Mir. At mine unworthiness, that dare not offer | 92 |
| 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, | |
| The bigger bulk it shows. Hence, bashful cunning! | 96 |
| And prompt me, plain and holy innocence! | |
| 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, | 100 |
| Whether you will or no. | |
| Fer. My mistress, dearest; | |
| And I thus humble ever. | |
| Mir. My husband, then? | 104 |
| Fer. Ay, with a heart as willing | |
| As bondage e’er of freedom. Here’s my hand. | |
| Mir. And mine, with my heart in ’t. And now farewell | |
| Till half an hour hence. | 108 |
| Fer. A thousand thousand! Exeunt [FER. and MIR. severally]. | |
| Pros. 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, | 112 |
| For yet ere supper-time must I perform | |
| Much business appertaining. Exit. | |
