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  • Title: The Honest Whore, Part 1 (Quarto 1, 1604)
  • Editor: Joost Daalder
  • Contributing editor: Brett Greatley-Hirsch
  • Coordinating editor: Brett Greatley-Hirsch
  • General textual editor: Eleanor Lowe
  • ISBN: 978-1-55058-490-5

    Copyright Digital Renaissance Editions. This text may be freely used for educational, non-profit purposes; for all other uses contact the Editor.
    Authors: Thomas Dekker, Thomas Middleton
    Editor: Joost Daalder
    Peer Reviewed

    The Honest Whore, Part 1 (Quarto 1, 1604)

    THE HONEST WHORE.
    Cram. No matter, weele in.
    Poh. Sbloud doest long to lye in Limbo?
    Cram. And Limbo be in hell, I care not.
    2040Cand. Looke you Gentlemen, your choise: Cambricks?
    Cramb. No sir, some shirting.
    Cand. You shall.
    Cram. Haue you none of this strip'd Canuas for doublets.
    Cand. None strip'd sir, but plaine.
    20452. Pren. I thinke there be one peece strip'd within.
    Geo. Step sirra and fetch it, hum, hum hum.
    Cand. Looke you Gentlemen, Ile make but one spred-
    ding, heres a peece of cloth, fine, yet shall weare like Yron, tis
    without fault, take this vpon my word, tis without fault.
    2050Cram. Then tis better than you sirra.
    Cand. I, and a number more, ô that each soule
    Were but as spotlesse as this Innocent white,
    And had as few brakes in it.
    Cram. Twould haue some then: there was a fray here last
    2055day in this shop.
    Cand. There was indeed a little flea-biting.
    Poh. A Gentleman had his pate broake, call you that but
    a flea-biting.
    Cand. He had so.
    2060Cram. Zownes doe you stand in't? He strikes him.
    Geo. Sfoot clubs, clubs, prentices, downe with em, ah you
    roagues, strike a Citizen in's shop.
    Cand. None of you stir I pray, forbeare good George.
    Cram. I beseech you sir, we mistooke our markes, deliuer
    2065vs our weapons.
    Geo. Your head bleeds sir, cry clubs.
    Cand. I say you shall not, pray be patient,
    Giue them their weapons, sirs you're best be gone,
    I tell you here are boyes more tough then Beares:
    2070Hence, least more fists do walke about your eares.
    Both. We thanke you sir. Exeunt,
    Gan. You shall not follow them.
    Let them alone pray, this did me no harme,
    Troth I was cold, and the blow made me warme,
    H I thanke