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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)

    13. SCE.
    Enter Duke: Doctor: Fluello, Castruchio, Pioratto.
    Duk. giue vs a little leaue. Doctor your newes.
    Doc. I sent for him my Lord: at last he came,
    2155And did receiue all speech that went from me,
    As gilded pilles made to prolong his health:
    My credit with him wrought it: for, some men.
    Swallow euen empty hookes, like fooles. that feare
    No drowning where tis deepest, Cause tis cleare:
    2160In th'end we sat and eate: a health I dranke
    To Infaelices sweete departed soule,
    (This traine I knew would take.)
    Duk. Twas excellent.
    Doc. He fell with such deuotion on his knees,
    2165To pledge the same.
    Duk. Fond superstitious foole?
    Doc. That had he beene inflam'd with zeale of prayer,
    He could not power't out with more reuerence.
    About my necke he hung, wept on my cheeke,
    2170Kist it, and swore, he would adore my lippes,
    Because they brought forth Infaelices name.
    Duk. Ha, ha, alacke, alacke.
    Doc. The cup he lifs vp high, and thus he said,
    Here noble maid: drinkes, and was poisoned.
    2175Duk. and died?
    Doc. And died my Lord.
    Duk. Thou in that word,
    Hast peied mine aged houres out with more yeares,
    Than thou hast taken from Hipolito,
    2180A noble youth he was, but lesser branches
    Hindring the greaters growth, must be lopt off,
    And feede the fire: Doctor w'are now all thine,
    And vse vs so: be bold.
    Doc. Thankes gracious Lord:
    2185My honoured Lord:
    Duk. hmh.
    Doc. I
    THE HONEST WHGRE.
    Doc. I doe beseech your grace to bury deepe,
    This bloudy act of mine.
    Duk. Nay, nay, for that,
    2190Doctor looke you toot: me it shall not moue,
    Thei'r curst that ill doe, not that ill do loue,
    Doc. You throw an angry forehead on my face,
    But be you pleas'd, backward thus for to looke,
    That for your good, this euill I vndertooke,
    2195Duk. I, I, we conster so:
    Doc. And onely for your loue.
    Duk. Confest: tis true.
    Doc. Nor let it stand against me as a bar,
    To thrust me from your presence: nor beleeue
    2200(As Princes haue quicke thoughts,) that now my finger
    Being deept in blood, I will not spare the hand,
    But that for gold (as what can golde not doe?)
    I may be hi'rde to worke the like on you,
    Duk. Which to preuent.
    2205Doc. Tis from my hart as far.
    Duk. No matter Doctor, cause ile feareles sleepe,
    And that you shall stand cleare of that suspition
    I banish thee for euer from my court.
    This principle is olde but true as fate,
    2210Kings may loue treason, but the traitor hate, Exit.
    Doc. Ist so: nay then Duke, your stale principle
    With one as stale, the Doctor thus shall quit,
    He fals himselfe that digs anothers pit,
    How now: where is he? will he meete me:
    2215Enter the Doctors man.
    Doc. man, meete you sir, he might haue met with three
    fencers in this time and haue receiued lesse hurt then by mee-
    ting one Doctor of Phisicke: why sir has walkt vnder the olde
    Abbey wall yonder this houre, till hees more colde then a
    2220Cittizens country house in Ianiuere, you may smell him be-
    hinde sir; la you: yonder he comes.
    Doc. leaue me. Enter Hipolito.
    Doc. man. Itch lurch if you will. Exit.
    Do. O my most noble friend.
    H 3 Hip. Few
    THE HONEST WHORE.
    2225Hip. Few but your selfe,
    Could haue inticd me thus, to trust the Aire,
    With my close sighes, you send for me: what newes?
    Doc. Come you must doff this blacke: die that pale cheeke,
    Into his owne colour; goe: Attire your selfe
    2230Fresh as a bridegroome, when he meetes his bride,
    The Duke has done much treason to thy loue,
    Tis now reuealed, tis now to be reuengde,
    Be mery honord friend, thy Lady liues.
    Hip. What Lady?
    2235Doc. Infaelice, Shees reuiude;
    Reuiude: alacke! death neuer had the hart,
    To take breath from her.
    Hip. Vmh: I thanke you sir,
    Phisicke prolongs life, when it cannot saue,
    2240This helpes not my hopes. mine are in their graue:
    You doe some wrong to mocke me.
    Doc. By that loue,
    Which I haue euer borne you, what I speake
    Is trueth: the maiden liues: that funerall,
    2245Dukes teares, the morning, was all counterfet,
    A sleepy draught cozend the world and you,
    I was his minister and then chambred vp,
    To stop discouery.
    Hip. O trecherous Duke:
    2250Doc. He cannot hope so certainely for blisse:
    As he beleeues that I haue poysond you,
    He wode me toot, I yeelded, and confirm'd him,
    In his most bloudy thoughts.
    Hip. A very deuill!
    2255Doc. Her did he closely coach to Bergamo,
    And thither?
    Hip. Will I ride, stood Bergamo,
    In the low countries of blacke hell, ile to her.
    Doc. You shall to her, but not to Bergamo,
    2260How passion makes you fly beyond your selfe.
    Much of that weary iourney I'ha cut off,
    For she by letters hath intelligence,
    Of
    THE HONEST WHORE.
    Of your supposed death, her owne interment,
    And all those plots, which that false Duke, (her father)
    2265Has wrought against you: And sheele meete you.
    Hip. O when:
    Doc. Nay see: how couetous are your desires,
    Earely to morrow morne.
    Hip. O where good father.
    2270Doc. At Bethlem monasterie: are you pleasd now?
    Hip, At Bethlem monasterie: the place well fits,
    It is the scoole where those that loose their wits,
    Practise againe to get them: I am sicke
    Of that disease, all loue is lunaticke.
    2275Doc. Weele steale away, this night in some disguise,
    Father Anselmo, a most reuerend Frier,
    Expects our comming, before whom weele lay,
    Reasons so strong, that he shall yeeld, in bonds,
    Oh holy wedlocke, to tie both your hands.
    2280Hip. This is such happinesse:
    That to beleeue it. tis impossible.
    Doc. Let all your ioyes then die in misbeliefe,
    I will reueale no more.
    Hip. O yes good father,
    2285I am so well acquainted with despaire,
    I know not how to hope: I beleeue all.
    Doc. Weele hence this night, much must be done, much (said
    But if the Doctor faile not in his charmes,
    Your Lady shall ere morning fill these armes.
    2290Hip. heauenly Phisition: far thy fame shall sprede,
    That mak'st two louers speake when they be dead.
    Exeunt.
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