All health and honour that of right should be,
With all good things I wish thee. [Drinks.

ALBOVINE.

Wish me well,
And God must give me what thou wilt. Good friends,
My warriors and my brethren, hath not he
Given me to wife the best one born of man
And loveliest, and most loving? Silent, sirs?
Wherefore?

ROSAMUND.

Thou shouldst not ask it. Bid the cup
Go blithely round.

ALBOVINE.

By Christ and Thor, it shall.
What ails the boy there? Almachildes!

ALMACHILDES.

King,
Nought ails me.

ALBOVINE.

Nor thy maiden?