The Tempest
·III i 19 ·
Verse
Miranda 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. The sun will set before I shall discharge What I must strive to do. Miranda. If you'll sit down, I'll bear your logs the while: pray, give me that; I'll carry it to the pile. I had rather crack my sinews, break my back, Than you should such dishonour 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 it is against. |