Vor. Thou, Hengist, at our hands, hast well deserv’d;
We will consider, and reward thy labours.
Enter Rowena.
Ye heavenly powers! what lovely maid is this,
Whose form might raise the blush in Dian’s cheek?
Heng. Rowena, sir; my daughter, and your slave.
Row. (Kneeling.) All hail, great King!
Vor. O! thou most lovely maiden!
Here let me pledge thee in this golden cup.
On its smooth brim, I pray thee, print a kiss,