The Tempest

Page 23

Mir. I do not know One of my sexe; no womans face remember, Saue from my glasse, mine owne: Nor haue I seene More that I may call men, then you good friend, And my deere Father: how features are abroad I am skillesse of; but by my modestie (The iewell in my dower) I would not wish Any Companion in the world but you: Nor can imagination forme a shape Besides your selfe, to like of: but I prattle Something too wildely, and my Fathers precepts I therein do forget

Fer. I am, in my condition A Prince (Miranda) I do thinke a King (I would not so) and would no more endure This wodden slauerie, then to suffer The flesh-flie blow my mouth: heare my soule speake. The verie instant that I saw you, did My heart flie to your seruice, there resides To make me slaue to it, and for your sake Am I this patient Logge-man

Mir. Do you loue me?

Fer. O heauen; O earth, beare witnes to this sound, And crowne what I professe with kinde euent If I speake true: if hollowly, inuert What best is boaded me, to mischiefe: I, Beyond all limit of what else i'th world Do loue, prize, honor you

Mir. I am a foole To weepe at what I am glad of

Pro. Faire encounter Of two most rare affections: heauens raine grace On that which breeds betweene 'em

Fer. Wherefore weepe you?

Mir. At mine vnworthinesse, that dare not offer What I desire to giue; and much lesse take What I shall die to want: But this is trifling, And all the more it seekes to hide it selfe, The bigger bulke it shewes. Hence bashfull cunning, And prompt me plaine and holy innocence. I am your wife, if you will marrie me; If not, Ile die your maid: to be your fellow You may denie me, but Ile be your seruant Whether you will or no

Fer. My Mistris (deerest) And I thus humble euer

Mir. My husband then?

Fer. I, with a heart as willing As bondage ere of freedome: heere's my hand

Mir. And mine, with my heart in't; and now farewel Till halfe an houre hence

Fer. A thousand, thousand.


Pro. So glad of this as they I cannot be, Who are surpriz'd with all; but my reioycing At nothing can be more: Ile to my booke, For yet ere supper time, must I performe Much businesse appertaining.


Scoena Secunda.

Enter Caliban, Stephano, and Trinculo.

Ste. Tell not me, when the But is out we will drinke water, not a drop before; therefore beare vp, & boord em' Seruant Monster, drinke to me

William Shakespeare
Classic Literature Library

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