How we cite our quotes: (Chapter.Paragraph)
Quote #4
Once Aschenbach had had a closer look, however, he realized with something akin to horror that the man was no youth. He was old, there was no doubting it: he had wrinkles around his eyes and mouth; the matt crimson of his cheeks was rouge; the brown hair beneath the straw hat with its colorful band—a toupee; the neck—scrawny, emaciated; the stuck-on mustache and imperial on his chin—dyed; the full complement of yellow teeth—a cheap denture; and the hands, with signet rings on both forefingers, those of an old man. A shudder ran through Aschenbach as he watched him and his interplay with his friends. Did they not know, could they not see that he was old, that he had no right to be wearing their foppish, gaudy clothes, no right to be carrying on as if he were one of them? (3.4)
What's important here is the way the description of this character's old age draws attention to his mortality, his aging body that has "no right" to be parading about in a young man's outfit. In this way, too, this guy foreshadows Aschenbach's own fate, making us wonder what Aschenbach's infatuation with Tadzio has to do with holding onto youth and fearing death.
Quote #5
He drooled, he squinted, he licked the corners of his mouth, and the dyed imperial on his old man's chin jutted into the air. "Our compliments," he babbled on, placing two fingers to his lips, "to your sweetheart, your sweet, your most beautiful sweetheart…" And suddenly the upper denture slipped out of his jaw over the lover lip. Aschenbach managed to escape. "Your sweetheart, your lovely sweetheart," came the cooing, hollow, garbled words behind him as he made his way down the gangplank, clutching the rope railing. (3.12)
This guy is just… yuck. Why is he here? Well, Aschenbach wonders the same thing, but as it turns out, this old guy on the boat to Venice reminds us of what Aschenbach himself will become. In his old age, sexuality—and this guy seems to be making a sexual advance of some sort—only becomes a reminder of mortality, symbolized here by the dentures that fall out of the man's mouth as he tries to give his "compliments" to Aschenbach's "sweetheart."
Quote #6
He had noticed, however, that Tadzio's teeth were less than attractive: a bit jagged and pale, lacking the gleam of health, and with that brittle, transparent quality sometimes found in anemic. He is very frail, he is sickly, thought Aschenbach. He'll probably not live long. And he made no attempt to account for why he felt satisfied or consoled at the thought. (3.62)
Tadzio's beauty is made all the more fleeting because it comes with signs of death. Aschenbach notices early on that Tadzio appears sick, with bad-looking teeth (reminding us of the dentures worn by the old man on the boat), and feels consoled. Is this because he doesn't want Tadzio to grow older, or, for Aschenbach, does beauty have some other connection to death?