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

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 compos'd of harshness. I must remove

Some thousands of these logs, and pile them up,

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, least when I do it.

[Enter MIRANDA: and PROSPERO behind.]

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:

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.

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,

And yours it is against.

PROSPERO :

[Aside] 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—

What is your name?

MIRANDA :

Miranda—O my father!

I have broke your hest to say so.

FERDINAND :

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

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

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.

MIRANDA :

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,

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;

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;—

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,

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

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 :

[Aside] Fair encounter

Of two most rare affections! Heavens rain grace

On that which breeds between them!

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,

The bigger bulk it shows. Hence, bashful cunning!

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,

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

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 surpris'd 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]