Verona, one of the cities of his new dominion, and here he celebrated
his victories with a grand feast to his companions in arms. Wine flowed
freely at the banquet, the king emulating, or exceeding, his guests in
the art of imbibing. Heated with his potations, in which he had drained
many cups of Rhætian or Falernian wine, he called for the choicest
ornament of his sideboard, the gold-mounted skull of Cunimund, and drank
its full measure of wine amid the loud plaudits of his drunken guests.

"Fill it again with wine," he cried; "fill it to the brim; carry this
goblet to the queen, and tell her that it is my desire and command that
she shall rejoice with her father."

Rosamond's heart throbbed with grief and rage on hearing this inhuman
request. She took the skull in trembling hands, and murmuring in low
accents, "Let the will of my lord be obeyed," she touched it to her
lips. But in doing so she breathed a silent prayer, and resolved that
the unpardonable insult should be washed out in Alboin's blood.

If she had ever loved her lord, she felt now for him only the bitterness
of hate. She had a friend in the court on whom she could depend,
Helmichis, the armor-bearer of the king. She called on him for aid in
her revenge, and found him willing but fearful, for he knew too well the
great strength and daring spirit of the chief whom he had so often
attended in battle. He proposed, therefore, that they should gain the
aid of a Lombard of unequalled strength, Peredeus by name. This
champion, however, was not easily to be won. The project was broached to
him, but the most that could be gained from him was a promise of
silence.

Failing in this, more shameful methods were employed. Such was