The grooves of reason?—if I rave or curse?—
You, who had known my heart, and after that,
And after I had warn’d you of the thing,
And simulating all the while such love,—
You, vowing to abjure me! more than this,
To-day with such cold-blooded, soulless tact,
Soft-stealing, through the door-ways left ajar,
Within the inmost chambers of my heart,
To snare,—as though the victim of a cat
That could be play’d with, trick’d with, kill’d, cast off,—