His herd was forgotten; his pipe lay uncared for on the ground; his head was bowed like a flower that droops over its stalk; he was consumed by inward fire, parched like the grass in the hot weather; he knew joy no longer, and no more gaily prattled, unless, indeed, he were speaking to Chloe or about her.

It's better not to prattle on about meaningless things. The more you open your mouth the more likely you are to put your foot in it.

She prattles on and on.