ROSAMUND.
I will mix it well with honey and herb
Sweet as the mead our fathers drank, and dreamed
Their gods so drank in heaven—draughts deep and strong
As life is strong and death is deep. I go
To bid Narsetes hither.
[Exit.
ALBOVINE.
Nay, by God,
Whoever God be, never Christ or Thor
Beheld or blessed a nobler wife, whose love
Was found through proof of purity by fire
More like our northern stars and snows and suns,
And sane in strong sufficiency of soul
As womanhood by godhead from the womb
Elected and exalted.
Enter Narsetes.
NARSETES.
King, thy wife
Hath given me back thy message given her.
ALBOVINE.
Ay?
And thou hast given her back my cup, then?