_Enter the Shew of_ Honors Triumph; _a great flourish of Trumpets and Drums within; Then enter a noise of Trumpets sounding cheerfully. Then follows an armed Knight bearing a Crimson Banneret in hand, with the inscription_ Valour: _by his side a Lady, bearing a Watchet Banneret, the inscription_ Clemencie: _next_ Martius _and_ Sophocles _with Coronets. Next, two Lad[i]es, one bearing a white Banneret, the inscription_ Chastity: _the other a black, the inscription_ Constancie. _Then_ Dorigen _crown'd. Last, a Chariot drawn by two Moors, in it a Person crown'd, with a Scepter: on the top, in an antick Scutcheon, is written_ Honor. _As they pass over_, Diana _ascends_. _Rinald._ How like you it? _Frig._ Rarely; so well, I would they would do it again. How many of our wives now adays would deserve to triumph in such a Chariot? _Rinald._ That's all one; you see they triumph in Caroches. _Frig._ That they do, by the mass; but not all neither; many of them are content with Carts. But Seignior, I have now found out a great absurditie i'faith. _Rinald._ What was 't? _Frig._ The Prologue presenting four Triumphs, made but three legs to the King: a three-legged Prologue, 't was monstrous. _Rinald._ 'T had been more monstrous to have had a four-legg'd one. Peace, the King speaks. _Em._ Here was a woman, _Isabel._ _Isa._ I, my Lord, But that she told a lye to vex her husband; Therein sh[e] fail'd. _Em._ She serv'd him well enough; He that was so much man, yet would be cast To jealousie for her integrity. This teacheth us, the passion of love Can fight with Soldiers, and with Scholars too. _Isa._ In _Martius_, clemencie and valour shown, In the other, courage and humanitie; And therefore in the Triumph they were usher'd By clemencie and valour. _Em._ Rightly observ'd, As she by chastitie and constancie; What hurt's now in a Play, against which some rail So vehemently? thou and I, my love, Make excellent use methinks: I learn to be A lawful lover void of jealousie, And thou a constant wife. Sweet Poetry's A flower, where men, like Bees and Spiders, may Bear poison, or else sweets and Wax away. Be venom-drawing Spiders they that will; I'll be the Bee, and suck the honey still. [_Flourish._ _Cupid descends._ Cupid. _Stay, clouds, ye rack too fast: bright Phœbus see,_ _Honor has triumph'd with fair Chastity:_ _Give Love now leave, in purity to shew_ _Unchaste affe[ct]ions flie not from his bowe._ _Produce the sweet example of your youth._ _Whilst I provide a Triumph for your Truth._ [Flourish. _Enter Violanta (with childe) and Gerrard._ _Viol._ Why does my _Gerr[a]rd_ grieve?