Book: The taming of the shrew. Page 1

My father
Vincenzio kind of Bentivolio;
Trade with the whole world he leads.
I was brought up in Florence
And to justify his hopes,
Garnished with virtue and wealth.

Let it run its course.

Husband - the Lord your defender, life,
The head of yours. Or care about you
He works on land and at sea,
Can't sleep at night in a storm, makes cold,
While you're at home luxuriate in the warmth,
The dangers of not knowing and deprivation.
And from you he only wants love
The friendly look, obedience -
Insignificant payment for his work.
As a subject owes to the sovereign,
So the woman - his wife.
When she is obstinate, of evil, stubborn
Honest and obedient to the will of her husband,
Well, it is not a stout rebel,
A traitor to his Lord?

You do not need to ask what dress I'll wear, because I have no more doublets than backs, no more stockings than legs, no more shoes than feet, feet and sometimes even more than shoes, or such shoes that of them fingers sticking out.

I just fell in love
So good enough to the nut,
To the girl to get.

Practice logic with friends
Rhetoric engage in conversations,
Poetry and music be of good comfort,
And mathematics and with it
And metaphysics take in doses
Not more than the stomach allows.

Once the young are.

Grief you too much curdled blood,
And melancholy give birth to the madness.

- I thought it was three decades
I denied his marriage bed.
- Dolgonko! Servant, get out.-
Madam, undress alive, and in bed!

What if the joke with a drunkard to play?
Tear it down in a luxurious bed
To wear lingerie and the finest rings,
To put next to the food table tasty
And servants around to wait for a revival.
Know this beggar himself?
...
Finds all magic or a dream wonderful.

Death is evil, as your likeness of the vile!

Yeah, rotten apples can't be choosers.

Sir, you marriage with me is not threatened:
This way does not win women.
And not leave you alone, so for
I head a three-legged stool
And, as jester, will cover you in this case.

Anger is ruining your beauty, as the cold
Meadows green; takes away the glory
As the wind of the kidney. Never, never
And no, your anger will not be nice.