Enter FERDINAND bearing a log
There be some sports are painful, and their labor
Delight in them sets off. Some kinds of baseness
Are nobly undergone. And most poor matters
Point to rich ends. This my mean task
5Would be as heavy to me as odious, but
The mistress which I serve quickens what’s dead
And makes my labors pleasures. Oh, she is
Ten times more gentle than her father’s crabbed,
And he’s composed of harshness. I must remove
10Some thousands of these logs and pile them up,
Upon a sore injunction. My sweet mistress
Weeps when she sees me work, and says such baseness
Had never like executor. I forget,
But these sweet thoughts do even refresh my labors,
15Most busiest when I do it.
Enter MIRANDA, and
now, pray you,
Work not so hard. I would the lightning had
Burnt up those logs that you are enjoined to pile!
Pray, set it down and rest you. When this burns,
'Twill weep for having wearied you. My father
20Is hard at study. Pray now, rest yourself.
He’s safe for these three hours.