 | 顏元叔 - 2001 - 838 sivua
...history? Viola. A blank, my lord: she never told her love, But let concealment like a worm i'th'bud Feed on her damask cheek: she pin'd in thought, And...monument, Smiling at grief. Was not this love indeed? Duke. But died thy sister of her love, my boy? Viola. I am all the daughters of my father's house,... | |
 | 1984 - 460 sivua
[ Valitettavasti tämän sivun sisältö on rajoitettu ] | |
 | Leslie O'Dell - 2002 - 442 sivua
[ Valitettavasti tämän sivun sisältö on rajoitettu ] | |
 | William Shakespeare - 2002 - 244 sivua
...lack retention. Orsino — TN II.iv She never told her love, But let concealment, like a worm i' th' bud, Feed on her damask cheek: she pin'd in thought,...monument, Smiling at grief. Was not this love indeed? Viola — TN II.iv Come, come, in wooing sorrow let's be brief, Since, wedding it, there is such length... | |
 | Stanley Wells - 2002 - 228 sivua
...against which to measure his own obsession for Olivia. 'Was this not love indeed?' she challenges him: We men may say more, swear more, but indeed Our shows...we prove Much in our vows, but little in our love. (II. 116-18) Her story is a touching one, and for once Orsino's blustering is stilled. He is moved... | |
 | Wystan Hugh Auden - 2002 - 428 sivua
...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 sivua
...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... | |
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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. 
