“I do not desire the King.”
“God give him strength to bear it!”
She laughed musically: “Insolent!” and so fell into thought.
“Thou knowest, Daukin,” she said presently, “I have never been to Court—nor desired it indeed. Of what complexion is the King?”
“Hot.”
“Is he not very young?”
“He hath learned to lisp and help himself to what he wants. The young husbands in his suite observe discretion.”
“Poor husbands! O, Daukin, O, waly me, how the day loiters! If my love could draw so strong, I’d e’en take the worser for the better’s sake.”
“Which first?”
“Peace, fool!”