MIRANDA.
Do you love me?
FERDINAND.
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.
MIRANDA.
I am a fool
To weep at what I am glad of.
PROSPERO.
[Aside.] Fair encounter
Of two most rare affections! Heavens rain grace
On that which breeds between ’em!
FERDINAND.
Wherefore weep you?
MIRANDA.
At mine unworthiness, that dare not offer
What I desire to give; and much less take
What I shall die to want. But this is trifling;
And all the more it seeks to hide itself,
The bigger bulk it shows. Hence, bashful cunning!
And prompt me, plain and holy innocence!
I am your wife if you will marry me;
If not, I’ll die your maid: to be your fellow
You may deny me; but I’ll be your servant,
Whether you will or no.
FERDINAND.
My mistress, dearest;
And I thus humble ever.
MIRANDA.
My husband, then?
FERDINAND.
Ay, with a heart as willing
As bondage e’er of freedom: here’s my hand.
MIRANDA.
And mine, with my heart in ’t: and now farewell
Till half an hour hence.