- cid
- bafkreiczge3phghly45zh4gdhe3vvedlxoubncij7xj7m5oqfp2whiuske
- content_type
- image/jpeg
- filename
- 01_tempest_1901_illustrated_bell_page_0036.jpg
- height
- 2400
- key
- pdf-page-1769806466681-iivuxo50e1
- page_number
- 36
- pdf_type
- born_digital
- size
- 599311
- text
- ACT ONE THE TEMPEST SCENE TWO
Caliban. O ho, O ho! would 't had been done!
Thou didst prevent me; I had peopled else
This isle with Calibans.
Prospero. 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.
- text_extracted_at
- 2026-01-30T20:54:26.680Z
- text_extracted_by
- pdf-processor
- text_has_content
- true
- text_source
- born_digital
- uploaded
- true
- width
- 1642