Some other star! Choose, lady, which is ours?
PRIORESS
Yonder cool star that hides its winking light
Like a maid that weeps—but not for heaviness.
CHAUCER
Ha! If I were Prometheus now, I’d filch it
From out the seventh crystal sphere for you
And ’close it in this locket.
[Seizes her hand.]
PRIORESS