The Tempest · Act 3, Scene 1

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Enter FERDINAND, bearing a log
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.

Ferdinand

Some tasks are painful, but the joy they bring Makes the effort worth it. Some lowly actions Can be done nobly, and even the most menial tasks Can lead to great results. This simple task I have to do Would feel as hateful as it is hard, but The lady I serve brings life to what is dead And turns my hard work into pleasure. Oh, she is Ten times kinder than her father, who is harsh, And he is made of cruelty. I must move Thousands of these logs and pile them up, At a painful order. My sweet lady Cries when she sees me working, and says no one could Do such a lowly job with more grace. I forget: But these sweet thoughts even make my hard work feel light, So busy am I when I think of her.

Enter MIRANDA; and PROSPERO at a distance, unseen
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.

Miranda

Oh, please, Don’t work so hard: I wish the lightning had Burned up those logs you’re forced to pile! Please, set it down and rest a while; when this burns, It will feel sorry for tiring you. My father Is deep in study; please, rest now; He’s safe for the next three hours.

Ferdinand

O most dear mistress, The sun will set before I shall discharge What I must strive to do.

Ferdinand

Oh, most dear lady, The sun will set before I can finish What I have 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.

Miranda

If you’ll sit down, I’ll carry your logs for you: please, give me that; I’ll take 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.

Ferdinand

No, precious lady; I’d rather strain my muscles, break my back, Than let you do such a dishonorable thing While I sit lazily 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.

Miranda

It would suit me Just as well as it suits you: and I’d do it Much more easily; because I want to do it, And you don’t want me to.

Prospero

Poor worm, thou art infected! This visitation shows it.

Prospero

Poor fool, you’re sick! This is a sign of it.

Miranda

You look wearily.

Miranda

You look exhausted.

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?

Ferdinand

No, noble lady; it feels like morning to me When you’re near at night. I beg you— Especially so I can include it in my prayers— What’s your name?

Miranda

Miranda.--O my father, I have broke your hest to say so!

Miranda

Miranda.--Oh, my father, I’ve disobeyed you by saying that!

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!

Ferdinand

Wonderful Miranda! Truly the most amazing thing to admire! Worth The most precious thing in the world! So many women Have caught my eye and many times The sound of their voices has made me listen intently, But for all their virtues, I’ve liked different women for different reasons; never one As perfect as you, with no flaws that could take away From her grace, and make it seem less noble: but you, oh you, So perfect and unmatched, are the best creation Of any creature ever made!

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.

Miranda

I don’t know Any other woman; I can’t remember any woman’s face, Except my own when I look in the mirror; nor have I seen More men than you, my good friend, And my dear father: how people look outside, I don’t know; but, by my modesty, The treasure in my dowry, I wouldn’t want Any companion in the world except you, And I can’t imagine a form, Other than yours, that I could love. But I talk Too freely, and I forget my father’s lessons When I do.

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.

Ferdinand

I am, by my status A prince, Miranda; I think, a king; But I wouldn’t want that!--and I would never tolerate This wooden slavery more than I’d put up with A fly blowing in my mouth. Hear my heart speak: The very moment I saw you, my heart Rushed to serve you; it lives, To make me its servant; and for your sake I am this patient log-man.

Miranda

Do you love me?

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.

Ferdinand

Oh heaven, oh earth, bear witness to this sound And let what I say be crowned with good results If I speak the truth! If I don’t, reverse Whatever would bring me harm! I Love, treasure, and honor you More than anything else in the world.

Miranda

I am a fool To weep at what I am glad of.

Miranda

I am a fool To cry about what makes me happy.

Prospero

Fair encounter Of two most rare affections! Heavens rain grace On that which breeds between ’em!

Prospero

What a beautiful meeting Of two rare hearts! May the heavens shower grace On what grows between them!

Ferdinand

Wherefore weep you?

Ferdinand

Why are you crying?

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.

Miranda

It’s because of my unworthiness that I can’t offer What I wish I could give, and even less take What I would die for. But this is silly; And the more I try to hide it, The bigger it gets. Away, shy cleverness! And let me speak, pure and innocent! I am your wife, if you’ll marry me; If not, I’ll die your maid: you can refuse To be with me; but I’ll be your servant, Whether you want it or not.

Ferdinand

My mistress, dearest; And I thus humble ever.

Ferdinand

My lady, my dearest; And I will always be this humble.

Miranda

My husband, then?

Miranda

My husband, then?

Ferdinand

Ay, with a heart as willing As bondage e’er of freedom: here’s my hand.

Ferdinand

Yes, with a heart as willing As a slave ever is to be free: here’s my hand.

Miranda

And mine, with my heart in’t; and now farewell Till half an hour hence.

Miranda

And mine, with my heart in it; and now goodbye Until half an hour from now.

Ferdinand

A thousand thousand!

Ferdinand

A thousand times goodbye!

Exeunt FERDINAND and MIRANDA severally
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.

Prospero

I can’t be as happy as they are, Who are surprised by this; but my joy Is greater than anything else. I’ll go to my book, For I still have much business to do Before supper.

Exit
Exit

End of Act 3, Scene 1

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