I hear him breathing to the guilty girl
The fond familiar nothings of our love;
I hear him whispering into her ear
The tenderness that he rehearsed on me.
I follow him through all his well-known moods—
Now fierce and passionate, now fanciful;
And ever tuning his accursed tongue
To chime in with the passion at her heart:
Oh, never fear that I shall starve the flame!
When jealousy takes shelter in my heart,