By Jove! a very pretty cock-and-bull!
“The moon at full! ’twas very finely reckon’d!
Why so she wrote me word upon the first—
The twelfth, and now upon the twenty-second—
Full!—yes—it must be full enough to burst!
But let her go—of all vile jilts the worst”—
Here with his thumbs he gave contemptuous snaps,
Anon he blubber’d like the child that’s nurs’d,
And then he hit the table frightful raps,
And stamped till he had broken both his straps.