The Tempest
·I ii 419 ·
Verse
*Miranda Abhorred slave,
Which any print of goodness wilt not take,Being capable of all ill! I pitied thee, Took pains to make thee speak, taught thee each hour One thing or other: when thou didst not, savage, Know thine own meaning, but wouldst gabble like A thing most brutish, I endow'd thy purposes With words that made them known. But thy vile race, Though thou didst learn, had that in't which good natures Could not abide to be with; therefore wast thou Deservedly confined into this rock, Who hadst deserved more than a prison. * The Edition (the 1864 Globe) on the OpenSourceShakespere server to which we link gives this speech to Prospero. The Riverside gives the speech to Miranda. The First Folio also has it as Miranda's. ![]() |