If I have too austerely punished you

Prospero, to Ferdinand
If I have too austerely punished you,
Your compensation makes amends, for I
Have given you here a third of mine own life,
Or that for which I live; who once again
I tender to thy hand.

Do not smile at me that I boast of her,
For thou shalt find she will outstrip all praise
And make it halt behind her.

All thy vexationsWere but my trials of thy love, and thou
Hast strangely stood the test. Here afore heaven
I ratify this my rich gift. O Ferdinand,
Do not smile at me that I boast of her,
For thou shalt find she will outstrip all praise
And make it halt behind her.
Ferdinand
I do believe it
Against an oracle.
Prospero
Then, as my gift and thine own acquisition
Worthily purchased, take my daughter. But
If thou dost break her virgin-knot before
All sanctimonious ceremonies may
With full and holy rite be ministered,
No sweet aspersion shall the heavens let fall
To make this contract grow; but barren hate,
Sour-eyed disdain, and discord shall bestrew
The union of your bed with weeds so loathly
That you shall hate it both. Therefore take heed,
As Hymen’s lamps shall light you.
Ferdinand
As I hope
For quiet days, fair issue, and long life,
With such love as ’tis now, the murkiest den,
The most opportune place, the strong’st suggestion
Our worser genius can shall never melt
Mine honor into lust to take away
The edge of that day’s celebration
When I shall think or Phoebus’ steeds are foundered
Or night kept chained below.
Prospero
Fairly spoke.
Sit then and talk with her. She is thine own.