Mira.
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.

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:
I'll carry it to the pile.

Fer.
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 it is against^{9 note}

Pro.
Poor worm! thou art infected;
This visitation shews it.

Mira.
You look wearily.

Fer.
No, noble mistress; 'tis fresh morning with me,
When you are by at night^{1 note}


. I do beseech you,
(Chiefly, that I might set it in my prayers,)
What is your name?

Mira.
Miranda:—O my father,
I have broke your hest^{2 note}
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^{3 note}

Mira.
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 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
I therein do forget^{4 note}.

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 to suffer^{5 note}

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^{7 note}

,
Do love, prize, honour you.

Mira.
I am a fool,
To weep at what I am glad of^{8 note}

Pro.
Fair encounter
Of two most rare affections! Heavens 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^{9 note} to hide itself,
The bigger bulk it shews. Hence, bashful cunning!
And prompt me, plain and holy innocence!
I am your wife^{1 note}




, if you will marry me;

If not, I'll die your maid: to be your fellow^{2 note}
You may deny me; but I'll be your servant,
Whether you will or no.

Fer.
My mistress, dearest,
And I thus humble ever.

Mira.
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^{3 note}

Fer.
A thousand! thousand! [Exeunt Fer. and Mir.

Pro.
So glad of this as they, I cannot be,
Who are surpriz'd with all^{4 note}

At nothing can be more. I'll to my book;
For yet, ere supper time, must I perform
Much business appertaining. [Exit.

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