MORGAN.
His soul! Ay, marry! many a time and oft
I've seen the man's great heart stare from his eyes,
Just like a girl's, out at the crowing boy:
And yesterday it was he perch'd him fair
Upon his broad rough shoulder, like a lamb
Laid on the topmost reaches of a hill,
And so he bore him, all his face a-glow,
When heralds came with war-notes from the king;
At which he turn'd him soft—the startled babe
Still set astride, and looking fondly up,
Said he, "See! here's the only lord that sets
His foot upon my shoulder." The man's heart
Scarce beats, I warrant, now the child is dead.