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Re: need a quote

Poster: "Beverly Robinson-Curry" <corvus2@worldnet.att.net>

Thank you, thank you, thank you!!!


> From: Robert J Welenc <rjwelenc@erols.com>
> To: Beverly Robinson-Curry <corvus2@worldnet.att.net>; Atlantia List
> Subject: Re: need a quote
> Date: Thursday, May 21, 1998 6:38 AM
> At 10:11 AM 5/21/98 -0400, Beverly Robinson-Curry wrote:
> >
> >Poster: "Beverly Robinson-Curry" <corvus2@worldnet.att.net>
> >
> >Help!  Anybody got their Shakespeare handy?  Mine's at home and I
> need a
> >quote from it sooner than I can retrieve it.  I need the last
> soliliquy of
> >Katherine where she speaks of a wife's duties to her husband...
> >
> >Conveying my advance gratitude,
> >
> >Rhiannon
> http://the-tech.mit.edu/Shakespeare/works.html
> Probably more than you need, but here's the whole speech.
> Alanna
>      Fie, fie! unknit that threatening unkind brow,
>      And dart not scornful glances from those eyes,
>      To wound thy lord, thy king, thy governor:
>      It blots thy beauty as frosts do bite the meads,
>      Confounds thy fame as whirlwinds shake fair buds,
>      And in no sense is meet or amiable.
>      A woman moved is like a fountain troubled,
>      Muddy, ill-seeming, thick, bereft of beauty;
>      And while it is so, none so dry or thirsty
>      Will deign to sip or touch one drop of it.
>      Thy husband is thy lord, thy life, thy keeper,
>      Thy head, thy sovereign; one that cares for thee,
>      And for thy maintenance commits his body
>      To painful labour both by sea and land,
>      To watch the night in storms, the day in cold,
>      Whilst thou liest warm at home, secure and safe;
>      And craves no other tribute at thy hands
>      But love, fair looks and true obedience;
>      Too little payment for so great a debt.
>      Such duty as the subject owes the prince
>      Even such a woman oweth to her husband;
>      And when she is froward, peevish, sullen, sour,
>      And not obedient to his honest will,
>      What is she but a foul contending rebel
>      And graceless traitor to her loving lord?
>      I am ashamed that women are so simple
>      To offer war where they should kneel for peace;
>      Or seek for rule, supremacy and sway,
>      When they are bound to serve, love and obey.
>      Why are our bodies soft and weak and smooth,
>      Unapt to toil and trouble in the world,
>      But that our soft conditions and our hearts
>      Should well agree with our external parts?
>      Come, come, you froward and unable worms!
>      My mind hath been as big as one of yours,
>      My heart as great, my reason haply more,
>      To bandy word for word and frown for frown;
>      But now I see our lances are but straws,
>      Our strength as weak, our weakness past compare,
>      That seeming to be most which we indeed least are.
>      Then vail your stomachs, for it is no boot,
>      And place your hands below your husband's foot:
>      In token of which duty, if he please,
>      My hand is ready; may it do him ease.
>      Why, there's a wench! Come on, and kiss me, Kate.
> >
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