 | Wystan Hugh Auden - 2002 - 428 páginas
...woman's that follows the song, Viola is, I think, being anything but playful when she says, We men say more, swear more; but indeed Our shows are more...we prove Much in our vows but little in our love. (II.iv.119-21) The Duke is interested in being either a faithful Tristan or a dashing Don Juan. He... | |
 | David Schalkwyk - 2002 - 284 páginas
...never told her love, But let concealment, like a worm i' th' bud, Feed on her damask cheek. She pined in thought, And with a green and yellow melancholy...monument, Smiling at grief. Was not this love indeed? Our shows are more than will; for still we prove Much in our vows, but little in our love. ORSINO But... | |
 | Leslie O'Dell - 2002 - 442 páginas
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 | Samuel Crowl - 2003 - 289 páginas
...response and the alternative to Orsino's egoism and the song's ("Come Away, Death") finality: "She pined in thought, / And with a green and yellow melancholy,...monument, / Smiling at grief. Was not this love indeed?" (2.4.1 12-15). Stubbs's wistful delivery of these lines manages to quiet both Orsino and the sea. Nunn... | |
 | Emily Auerbach - 2004 - 364 páginas
...never told her love, But let concealment, like a worm i' the bud, Feed on her damask cheek. She pined in thought; And, with a green and yellow melancholy,...we prove Much in our vows but little in our love. (Twelfth Night, 2.4.110-18) Besides allowing Austen to highlight the dramatic irony of a highly articulate... | |
 | William Shakespeare - 2011 - 276 páginas
...th' bud, Feed on her damask cheek. She pined in thought. And with a green and yellow melancholy 125 She sat like Patience on a monument, Smiling at grief....we prove Much in our vows but little in our love. 130 ORSINO But died thy sister of her love, my boy? VIOLA I am all the daughters of my father's house,... | |
 | William Shakespeare, Lindsay Price, Theatrefolk - 2004 - 168 páginas
...her natural beauty surfeit, cloyment both mean "excess" 1 sooth truth damask pink 1 ORSINO AND VIOLA She sat like patience on a monument, Smiling at grief....we prove Much in our vows, but little in our love. ORSINO: But died thy sister of her love, my boy? VIOLA: I am all the daughters of my father's house,... | |
 | Russ McDonald - 2004 - 952 páginas
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A blank, my lord. She never told her love, But let concealment, like a worm i' the bud, Feed on her damask cheek : she pin'd in thought, And with a green and yellow melancholy, She sat like Patience on a monument, Smiling at grief. 
