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Freedom, hey-day! hey-day, freedom! freedom,

hey-day, freedom! Ste. O brave monster! lead the way. [Exeunt.

ACT III.

SCENE I.

Before Prospero's cell.

Enter FERDINAND, bearing a log. Fer. There be some sports are painful; and their

labor 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 labors 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 ne'er like executor. I forget : But these sweet thoughts do even refresh my la

bors; Most busy-less, when I do it.

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Burnt up

.

Enter MIRANDA; and PROSPERO at a distance. Mir.

Alas, now! pray you, Work not so hard : I would the lightning had

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. Mir.

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 dishonor undergo,
While I sit lazy by.
Mir.

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.
Pro.

Poor worm! thou art infected ;
This visitation shows it.
Mir.

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 my prayers)
What is your name?

Mir.

Miranda :-0 my father,
Į have broke your hesti to say so !
Fer.

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 full soul, but some defect in her
Did quarrel with the noblest grace she owed,
And put it to the foil :3 But you, O you,
So perfect, and so peerless are created
Of
every

creature's best.4 Mir.

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.

1 Command.

2 Possessed. 3 Made it doubtful whether the virtue or the defect proponderated.

* Alluding to the picture of Venus by Apelles.

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