But these sweet thoughts do even refresh my [labours],
[Most busy lest], when I do it.
Enter Miranda; and Prospero [at a distance, unseen].
Mir.
15 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
20 Is hard at study; pray, now, rest yourself;