That hops about the chamber where I lie,
And spends the night, that might be better spent,
In vain discourse and apish merriment:—
Come thither." As she spake this, her tongue tripp'd,
For unawares "Come thither" from her slipp'd;
And suddenly her former colour chang'd,
And here and there her eyes through anger rang'd;360
And, like a planet moving several ways
At one self instant, she, poor soul, assays,
Loving, not to love at all, and every part