The Tempest

by William Shakespeare (1623)

Act 3 Scene 1

Miranda - Female, Under 25 yrs

Scene partner - Ferdinand

Monologue - Comedic, 1:00 to 2:00 min

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.]

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.]

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, thou art infected!
This visitation shows it.]

You look wearily.

[Ferdinand: 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?]

[Miranda. — O my father,
I have broke your hest to say so!]

[Ferdinand: 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 fun soul, but some defect in her
Did quarrel with the noblest grace she owed
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
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.]

Do you love me?

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