POLICY. With speed and heed the matter must be done.
PLEASURE. Therefore you, Policy, shall our leader be.
NEMO. The day is ours: fair ladies, let us joy The joyful day that all men may rejoice; Yet only I am thankful for this good, And your good day at hand approacheth fast, Wherein you shall be join'd to three such lords, As all the cities under heaven's bright cope Cannot with all their glory match in worth. Lucre, Lord Pomp a victor comes to thee: Love, look thou for Lord Policy as well; And Conscience for her well-reformed phere, Pleasure, that only made his choice of her. Upon that day triumphant shall we feast, Wherein, mesdames, your honours nill be least.
LUCRE. Against their coming, might my reed be heard[276], Prepare would we garlands of laurel green, To welcome them; more for the common good, Than for affection private that we bear.
LOVE. To meet them coming will not be amiss; But what know we, how they will take such work?
CONSCIENCE. Report may be much more than there is cause. We may them meet and greet with joyful hearts, And make them garlands, when we know their minds.
_Enter the three Lords, with the Spanish shields, and_ DILIGENCE.
NEMO. And here they come with new-impressed shields.-- My lords, well-met, and welcome from your foes.
LUCRE. Lord Pomp, well-met, and welcome home again.
LOVE. Lord Policy, well-met, and welcome home again.
CONSCIENCE. Lord Pleasure, welcome with unfeigned heart.
PLEASURE. Fair joy and lady, twenty thousand thanks.
POLICY. Fair Love and lady, twice as many thanks.
POMP. Fair and beloved Lucre, though I speak last, As kindly I thy welcome do accept, As heart can think, pen write, or tongue can tell.
NEMO. Now speak, my lords, how have ye sped?
POLICY. Right well; thanks unto Him that gave the day to us. The Pride of Spain was cloak'd with majesty, And Shame, his page, nicknamed Modesty: Spanish Ambition Honour would be call'd, And Treachery, his page, term'd Action: Their Tyranny was cleped Government; Terror, his page, was falsely nam'd Regard; But God above hath given them their reward. They with dishonour left their shields behind, The only prizes purchas'd by us now, And those, fair ladies, we present to you. Love, this is thine, and he that gives it thee.