 | J. Barry Webb - 1991 - 212 páginas
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 | Anthony J. Lewis - 1992 - 258 páginas
...who in turn creates a sister: Duke. And what's her history? Vio. 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 with a green and yellow melancholy She sate like Patience on a monument, Smiling at grief.... | |
 | Celia Morris - 1984 - 358 páginas
...written Jennings from Memphis.38 He prefaced the whole with Shakespeare's lines: "She never told her love, / But let concealment, like a worm i' th' bud, / Feed on her damask cheek." The craving Fanny had shown after strange and unnatural excitement, he said, suggested some morbid... | |
 | Normand Berlin - 1994 - 286 páginas
...the song, coming close to betraying her disguise as she tells Orsino that her sister "never told her love, / But let concealment like a worm i' th' bud / Feed on her damask cheek" (2.4.110-12). The image, of course, returns us to the rose whose beauty is so short-lived. The scene... | |
 | Camille Wells Slights - 1993 - 316 páginas
...Viola's demonstrates its necessity. The history of her father's daughter is a blank: she 'never told her love, / But let concealment like a worm i' th' bud / Feed on her damask cheek' (n.iv. 110-12). Thus Viola identifies her love for Orsino with his for Olivia and expresses it in unashamedly... | |
 | Cynthia Chase - 1993 - 304 páginas
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 | Lord Henry Home Kames - 1993 - 518 páginas
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 | Albert Ramsdell Gurney - 1994 - 310 páginas
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 | William Shakespeare - 1995 - 136 páginas
...plenty; Then come kiss me, sweet and twenty, Youth's a stuff will not endure. 105 She 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, She sat like Patience on a monument, Smiling... | |
 | Tassie Gwilliam - 1995 - 218 páginas
...detected me? While the noble Clementina, as in that admirable passage cited by her, Never told her love, But let concealment, like a worm i' th' bud, Feed on her damask cheek. How do I admire her for her silence! But yet, had she been circumstanced as your Harriet was, would... | |
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But let concealment like a worm i' th' 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. 
