Listen to Act 3. LibriVox volunteers recorded “Act III” as one track, so it runs past this scene and includes stage directions this page leaves out. LibriVox catalog.
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.
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! art infected. This visitation shows it.
MIRANDA
You look wearily.
FERDINAND
No, noble mistress; 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 Th’ harmony of their tongues 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 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
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. , 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 .
FERDINAND
A thousand thousand!
PROSPERO
So glad of this as they, I cannot be, Who are surpris’d ; but my rejoicing At nothing can be more. I’ll to my book; For yet, supper time, must I perform Much business appertaining.