Document:  All > Shakespeare > Comedies > The Tempest > Act III, scene I

	[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 composed 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 lest, when I do it.

	[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;
	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: 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: 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
	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,
	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 skilless 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: Fair encounter
	Of two most rare affections! Heavens rain grace
	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,
	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,
	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 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.



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