Saturday, February 7, 2015


© MMXV V.1.0.1
 by Morley Evans

A husband and a wife are two halves of one jigsaw puzzle. Men and women are not the same. They are different. They are not equal in that they are the same. Husbands and wives compliment one another. They make each other whole. They make each other one.
Katharina sums it up in The Taming of the Shrew. Katharina's heart speaks the truth.

Taylor and Burton


PETRUCHIO: Katharina, I charge thee, tell these headstrong women what duty they do owe their lords and husbands. 

WIDOW: Come, come, you’re mocking: we will have no telling. 

PETRUCHIO: Come on, I say; and first begin with her. 

WIDOW: She shall not. 

PETRUCHIO: I say she shall: and first begin with her. 

KATHARINA: 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. 

PETRUCHIO: Why, there’s a wench! Come on, and kiss me, Kate.


Women's Liberation, as it was once called, does not serve women. It serves the sexual fantasies of 13-year-old boys. I am amazed when I discover that adult men, even old men, exhibit the attitudes towards women that they had when they were entering puberty. This is not surprising since relations between the sexes are complex to say the least. 

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