I'll bear him no more sticks, but follow thee, I pr'ythee, let me bring thee where crabs grow; ACT III. FERDINAND. There be some sports are painful; but 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 'tis odious; but The mistress which I serve, quickens what's dead, Ten times more gentle than her father's crabbed; eeps when she sees me work: and says, such base ness Had ne'er like executor. I forget: But these sweet thoughts do even refresh Most busy-less, when I do it. my labours Enter MIRANDA; and PROSPERO at a distance. Work not so hard: I would the lightning had He's safe for these three hours. Fer. O most dear mistress, The sun will set, before I shall discharge, What I must strive to do. Mira. If you'll sit down, I'll bear your logs the while: Pray give me that * Sea-gulls. No, precious creature: It would become me As well as it does you: And yours against. Pro. Poor worm' thou art infected; This visitation shows it. Mira. You look wearily. Fer. 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 your prayers,) What is your name? Mira. Miranda:-O my father, 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 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. I do not know Mira. 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 Fer. 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 I would suffer The flesh-fly blow my mouth,-Hear my sou speak; The very instant that I saw you, did My heart fly to your service; there resides, Am I this patient log-man. Mira. Do you love me? Fer. 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, Mira. I am a fool, Fair encounter Of too most rare affections! Heaven s rain grace On that which breeds between them! Fer Wherefore weep you? Mira. 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 Fer. And I thus humble ever. Mira. My mistress, dearest My husband then? Fer. Ay, with a heart as willing As bondage e'er of freedom: here's my hand. Mira. And mine, with my heart in't; And now farewell, Till half an hour hence. Fer. A thousand! thousand! A GUILTY CONSCIENCE. O, it is monstrous! monstrous! Methought, the billows spoke and told me of it; ACT IV. CONTINENCE BEFORE MARRIAGE. If thou dost break her virgin knot before As I hope A LOVER'S PROTESTATION. For quiet days, fair issue and long life, With such love as 'tis now; the murkiest den, The most opportune place, the strong'st suggestion Our worser genius can, shall never melt Mine honour into lust; to take away The edge of that day's celebration, When I shall think, or Phœbus' steeds are founder'd, Or night kept chain'd below. PASSION TOO STRONG FOR VOWS. Look, thou be true; do not give dalliance Too much the rein; the strongest oaths are straw To the fire i' the blood: be more abstemious Or else, good night, your vow! VANITY OF HUMAN NATURE. These our actors, As I foretold you, were all spirits, and * Sprinkling. Are melted into air, into thin air And, like the baseless fabric of this vision, DRUNKARDS ENCHANTED BY ARIEL. I told you, sir, they were red-hot with drinking; So full of valour, that they smote the air For breathing in their faces; beat the ground For kissing of their feet; yet always bending Towards their project; Then I beat my tabor, At which, like unback'd colts, they prick'd their ears, Advanc'd their eyelids, lifted up their noses, As they smelt music; so I charm'd their ears, Which enter'd their frail shins: at last I left them LIGHTNESS OF FOOT. Pray you, tread softly, that the blind mole may not Hear a foot fall. ACT V. TEARS. His tears run down his beard, like winter's drops From eavest of reeds. COMPASSION AND CLEMENCY SUPERIOR TO REVENGE. Hast thou, which art but air, a touch, a feeling Of their afflictions? and shall not myself, * Vanished. † A body of clouds in motion; but it is most probable that the author wrote track. + Thatch. |