He rolls it under his tongue as a sweet morsel.

He rolls it under his tongue as a sweet morsel.

A morsel for a monarch.

I should think your tongue has broken its chain.

That sweet city with her dreaming spires.

Though wickedness be sweet in his mouth, though he hide it under his tongue; / Though he spare it, and forsake it not; but keep it still within his mouth: / Yet his meat in his bowels is turned, it is the gall of asps within him.