Enter MIRANDA and PROSPERO  [at a distance, unseen].

MIRANDA                              Alas 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

Is hard at study; pray now, rest yourself,

He’s safe for these three hours.

FERDINAND                                       O most dear mistress,

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.

FERDINAND                                       No, precious creature,

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. (3.1.15-31)

Look at all the half-lines and the line-sharing! These two are indeed smitten. Ferdinand perhaps labours all the harder to impress Miranda, although she has surely carried a bit of firewood in her time? And she’s used to seeing Caliban doing this work. But she thinks it’s unfair – I would the lightning had burnt up those logs – not very practical, but quite sweet – as is her rather odd imagining that this log he carries will weep as it burns, for having wearied Ferdinand, caused him pain. (Does this here suggest that she comes close, even tries to take the log he carries from him? Perhaps; a repetition of it or that would suggest more distance. More potential for comedy, again, if Ariel is playing the part of the log.) But the serene confidence of teenagers everywhere and at all times: my dad’s busy with work (rolls eyes), he’ll be ages, rest yourself – he’s safe for these three hours (and so are we, therefore, although I think there is no real flirtation here.) But I’m so behind! says Ferdinand. I’ve got to shift all this firewood while it’s still light, and it’s not looking likely; I’ve at least got to keep trying to do what I’ve been ordered to undertake. Please rest, I’ll do your work for a bit. Give me that – she surely comes close to him, lays hands on it then? I wouldn’t dream of it, precious creature (most dear mistress; little lady?) I’d rather crack my sinews, break my back, exhaust and injure myself than see you doing something dishonourable, ungentle while I sat lazy by. Ferdinand does regard the work as beneath him, but he’s undertaking it both because he’s been ordered to – and has no choice, apparently – and because it enables him to see Miranda and, albeit indirectly, to serve her, as he has already observed. It would become me as well as it does you (both because she is, like Ferdinand, nobly born, and because she too is able-bodied and capable of work) – and in fact I’d do it with much more ease, more readily, less grumpily, because I really want to do it – for you. (But that’s how Ferdinand feels too. Amazing!)

(Although I do rather like the idea that Miranda is immensely practical and extremely fit, entirely accustomed to physical work and very at ease in her body, not least because she has only just learned that she is a duke’s daughter, while Ferdinand – for all his much-praised prowess as a swimmer is, after all, a life-long prince. If he’s notably physically incompetent she could be politely baffled but prepared to overlook because he’s such a nice boy, just uncoordinated and a bit weedy. Compare Orlando in As You Like It, who gets to prove that he is fit in all possible senses, not just a whiny kid with anger issues, in the wrestling match with Charles, in order that Rosalind may fall for him. He may even take his shirt off… Mind you, Ferdinand might have done the same…)

This blog isn’t appearing on #UCUStrike days…