Internet Shakespeare Editions

Author: William Shakespeare
Editors: Brent Whitted, Paul Yachnin
Peer Reviewed

The Tempest (Folio 1, 1623)


Actus Tertius. Scœna Prima.
1235
Enter Ferdinand (bearing a Log.)
Fer. There be some Sports are painfull; & their labor
Delight in them set off: Some kindes of basenesse
Are nobly vndergon; and most poore matters
Point to rich ends: this my meane Taske
1240Would be as heauy to me, as odious, but
The Mistris which I serue, quickens what's dead,
And makes my labours, pleasures: O She is
Ten times more gentle, then her Father's crabbed;
And he's compos'd of harshnesse. I must remoue
1245Some thousands of these Logs, and pile them vp,
Vpon a sore iniunction; my sweet Mistris
Weepes when she sees me worke, & saies, such basenes
Had neuer like Executor: I forget:
But these sweet thoughts, doe euen refresh my labours,
1250Most busie lest, when I doe it.
Enter Miranda and Prospero.
Mir. Alas, now pray you
Worke not so hard: I would the lightning had
Burnt vp those Logs that you are enioynd to pile:
Pray set it downe, and rest you: when this burnes
1255'Twill weepe for hauing wearied you: my Father
Is hard at study; pray now rest your selfe,
Hee's safe for these three houres.
Fer. O most deere Mistris,
The Sun will set before I shall discharge
1260What I must striue to do.
Mir. If you'l sit downe
Ile beare your Logges the while: pray giue me that,
Ile carry it to the pile.
Fer. No precious Creature,
1265I had rather cracke my sinewes, breake my backe,
Then you should such dishonor vndergoe,
While I sit lazy by.
Mir. It would become me
As well as it do's you; and I should do it
1270With much more ease: for my good will is to it,
And yours it is against.
Pro. Poore worme thou art infected,
This visitation shewes it.
Mir. You looke wearily.
1275Fer. No, noble Mistris, 'tis fresh morning with me
When y ou are by at night: I do beseech you
Cheefely, that I might set it in my prayers,
What is your name?
Mir. Miranda, O my Father,
1280I haue broke your hest to say so.
Fer. Admir'd Miranda,
Indeede the top of Admiration, worth
What's deerest to the world: full many a Lady
I haue ey'd with best regard, and many a time
1285Th'harmony of their tongues, hath into bondage
Brought my too diligent eare: for seuerall vertues
Haue I lik'd seuerall women, neuer any
VVith so full soule, but some defect in her
Did quarrell with the noblest grace she ow'd,
1290And put it to the foile. But you, O you,
So perfect, and so peetlesse, are created
Of euerie Creatures best.
Mir. I do not know
One of my sexe; no womans face remember,
1295Saue from my glasse, mine owne: Nor haue I seene
More that I may call men, then you good friend,
And my deere Father: how features are abroad
I am skillesse of; but by my modestie
(The iewell in my dower) I would not wish
1300Any Companion in the world but you:
Nor can imagination forme a shape
Besides your selfe, to like of: but I prattle
Something too wildely, and my Fathers precepts
I therein do forget.
1305Fer. I am, in my condition
A Prince ( Miranda) I do thinke a King
(I would not so) and would no more endure
This wodden slauerie, then to suffer
The flesh-flie blow my mouth: heare my soule speake.
1310The verie instant that I saw you, did
My heart flie to your seruice, there resides
To make me slaue to it, and for your sake
Am I this patient Logge-man.
Mir. Do you loue me?
1315Fer. O heauen; O earth, beare witnes to this sound,
And crowne what I professe with kinde euent
If I speake true: if hollowly, inuert
VVhat best is boaded me, to mischiefe: I,
Beyond all limit of what else i'th world
1320Do loue, prize, honor you.
Mir. I am a foole
To weepe at what I am glad of.
Pro. Faire encounter
Of two most rare affections: heauens raine grace
1325On that which breeds betweene 'em.
Fer. VVherefore weepe you?
Mir. At mine vnworthinesse, that dare not offer
VVhat I desire to giue; and much lesse take
VVhat I shall die to want: But this is trifling,
1330And all the more it seekes to hide it selfe,
The bigger bulke it shewes. Hence bashfull cunning,
And prompt me plaine and holy innocence.
I am your wife, if you will marrie me;
If not, Ile die your maid: to be your fellow
1335You may denie me, but Ile be your seruant
VVhether you will or no.
Fer. My Mistris (deerest)
And I thus humble euer.
Mir. My husband then?
1340Fer. I, with a heart as willing
As bondage ere of freedome: heere's my hand.
Mir. And mine, with my heart in't; and now farewel
Till halfe an houre hence.
Fer. A thousand, thousand.
Exeunt.
1345Pro. So glad of this as they I cannot be,
VVho are surpriz'd with all; but my reioycing
At nothing can be more: Ile to my booke,
For yet ere supper time, must I performe
Much businesse appertaining.
Exit.