Her. Glory!—Peace,
And listen! By my side the stripling grew,
Last of my line. I rear’d him to take joy
I’ th’ blaze of arms, as eagles train their young
To look upon the day-king! His quick blood
Even to his boyish cheek would mantle up,
When the heavens rang with trumpets, and his eye
Flash with the spirit of a race whose deeds—
—But this availeth not! Yet he was brave.
I’ve seen him clear himself a path in fight