Scene.—Bombardinion's Tent.
King and Bombardinion, at a table, with two Ladies.
Bomb. This honour, royal sir! so royalizes
The royalty of your most royal actions,
The dumb can only utter forth your praise;
For we, who speak, want words to tell our meaning.
Here! fill the goblet with Falernian wine,
And, while our monarch drinks, bid the shrill trumpet
Tell all the gods, that we propine their healths.
King. Hold, Bombardinion, I esteem it fit,