 | Judith Viorst - 2010 - 452 pages
...Constance: "You are as fond of your grief as of your child," she offers him this desperate explanation: Grief fills the room up of my absent child, Lies in...his form; Then, have I reason to be fond of grief. Another version of chronic grief is the so-called "mummification" of the dead, the keeping of every... | |
 | Robert Nye - 1999 - 428 pages
...has Queen Constance in Act III Scene 4 lament the fate of her son Arthur in these lines that follow: Grief fills the room up of my absent child, Lies in...with his form: Then have I reason to be fond of grief . Of course, I could be wrong. My linking of the writing of this speech with what Mr Shakespeare may... | |
 | 1999 - 220 pages
[ Sorry, this page's content is restricted ] | |
 | Ian Wilson - 1999 - 564 pages
...suggested Shakespeare wrote Hamnet's epitaph in the words of Arthur's mother Constance in King John: Grief fills the room up of my absent child, Lies in...parts, Stuffs out his vacant garments with his form. . ." But although the sentiments certainly evoke every reality of grief for a lost child, Dr Rowse's... | |
 | Samuel Alexander - 2000 - 324 pages
...Pand. You hold too heinous a respect of grief. Const. He talks to me that never had a son. K. Phil. You are as fond of grief as of your child. Const....his form: Then, have I reason to be fond of grief? VI. ON Music From Newman, University Sermons (quoted in RH Mutton's Cardinal Newman). There are seven... | |
 | Timothy Morton - 2000 - 246 pages
...Shakespeare has beautifully painted this passion, in the lamentation of Constance for her son, in King John: Grief fills the room up of my absent child, Lies in...his form; Then have I reason to be fond of grief? O Lord! my boy, my Arthur, my fair son; My life, my joy, my food, my all the world. Some such expressions... | |
 | 2000 - 316 pages
[ Sorry, this page's content is restricted ] | |
 | Sands Hall - 2000 - 392 pages
[ Sorry, this page's content is restricted ] | |
| |
Grief fills the room up of my absent child, Lies in his bed, walks up and down with me ; Puts on his pretty looks, repeats his words, Remembers me of all his gracious parts, Stuffs out his vacant garments with his form ; Then, have I reason to be fond... 
