Page:Tempest (1918) Yale.djvu/58

The Tempest, III. i

So perfect and so peerless, are created

Of every creature's best.

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 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.

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

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.

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,

Do love, prize, honour you.

Mira. I am a fool

To weep at what I am glad of.

 53 skilless: ignorant

58 Something: somewhat

59 condition: rank

70 invert: transform

