Miranda was, of course, homeschooled.

From The Tempest, Act I, Scene 2

PROSPERO
Now I arise:
[Resumes his mantle]
Sit still, and hear the last of our sea-sorrow.
Here in this island we arrived; and here
Have I, thy schoolmaster, made thee more profit
Than other princesses can that have more time
For vainer hours and tutors not so careful.

As to his methodology, well, one much wonders at Prospero's liberal use of magic. See, for example, how he bids his daughter to sleep when he must attend to his work:

Here cease more questions:
Thou art inclined to sleep; 'tis a good dulness,
And give it way: I know thou canst not choose.
[MIRANDA sleeps]
Come away, servant, come. I am ready now.
Approach, my Ariel, come.

And down she goes until her teacher is ready to instruct her again. I don't know, folks. At fifteen, there is no "good dulness." At three? Maybe. Maybe one might be tempted to employ a spell or two during those preschool years: Cease more questions! For that matter, Cease more noise! Cease more mess! Cease it ALL for thirty minutes or so, all right? Yes, one begins to appreciate a periodic "good dulness." In the twenty-first century, we call it television. But during the high school years? Nope. No time for dullness, good or otherwise. Prospero the schoolmaster is serving his own needs at the expense of his student's when he sends Miranda to Zs.

And then there his troubling use of "wench" as term of endearment: Well demanded, wench and No, wench and foolish, wench. Enough, already. She's the daughter of a duke, not Mistress Quickly's sister. Sheesh.

You know what? I think a number of homeschooling mothers might be less than enamored of Prospero's style. Heh, heh, heh.

Still, homeschooling as depicted by Shakespeare. Talk about synchronicity / serendipity / synthesis, eh?