I'll bear him no more sticks, but follow thee,
Thou wond'rous man.

I pr'ythee, let me bring thee where crabs grow;
And I with my long nails will dig thee pig-nuts;
Show thee a jay's nest, and instruct thee how
To snare the nimble marmozet; I'll bring thee
To clust'ring filberds, and sometimes I'll get thee `
Young sea-mells* from the rock.

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,
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 base

ness

Had ne'er like executor. I forget:

But these sweet thoughts do even refresh my labours Most busy-less, when I do it.

Enter MIRANDA; and PROSPERO at a distance. Mira. Alas, now! pray you,

Work not so hard: I would the lightning had Burnt up those logs, that you are enjoined to pile Pray, sit 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.

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.

I'll carry Fer.

it to the pile.

No, precious creature: I had rather crack my sinews, break my back, Than you should such dishonour undergo, While I sit lazy by.

Mira.

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 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
Something too wildly, and my father's precepts
Therein forget.

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,-lear 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.

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,
Beyond all limit of what else* i' the world
Do love, prize, honour you.

Mira.

I am a fool,

Fair encounter

To weep at what I am glad of.
Pro.
Of too most rare affections! Heaven s rain grace
Co 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
You may deny me: but I'll be your servant,
Whether you will or no.

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;
The winds did sing it to me; and the thunder,
That deep and dreadful organ-pipe, pronounc'd
The name of Prosper.

ACT IV.

CONTINENCE BEFORE MARRIAGE.

If thou dost break her virgin knot before
All sanctimonious ceremonies may
With full and holy rite be minister'd,
No sweet aspersion* shall the heavens let fall
To make this contract grow; but barren hate,
Sour-ey'd disdain, and discord, shall bestrew
The union of your bed with weeds so loathly
That you shall hate it both.

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 Phoebus' 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,
The cloud-capp'd towers, the gorgeous palaces,
The solemn temples, the great globe itself,
Yea, all which it inherits shall dissolve;
And, like this insubstantial pageant faded,*
Leave not a rackt behind: We are such stuff
As dreams are made of, and our little life
Is rounded with a sleep.

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,
That, calf-like, they my lowing follow'd, through
Tooth'd briers, sharp furzes, pricking goss, and
thorns,

Which enter'd their frail shins: at last I left them
I' the filthy mantled pool beyond your cell,
There dancing up to the chins.

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.