Hen. You've had no news, my lords?
Alb. We yet wait word, but rest you easy, sire.
Our fleet is safe and proudly bearing home.
Hen. Your faith is strong.
Alb. I have no doubt, my lord.
Hen. Were it not well to take this time to plan
De Burgh's reward?
Alb. Ay, 'twere, your majesty.
Hen. What say you, my lord cardinal? You first.
How should we grace his triumph? With what honor?