I'll carry it to the pile.

FERDINAND.

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

MIRANDA.

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.

* * * *

MIRANDA.

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.

Miranda. O my father
I have broke your 'hest to say so!

FERDINAND.

Admir'd 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. But you, O you,
So perfect and so peerless, are created
Of every creature's best!

MIRANDA.

I do not know
One of my sex: no woman's face remember,
Save, from my glass, mine own; nor have I seen
Mere 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.

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 I would 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,