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  • Title: The Honest Whore, Part 2 (Quarto 1, 1630)
  • Editor: Joost Daalder
  • 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.
    Author: Thomas Dekker
    Editor: Joost Daalder
    Not Peer Reviewed

    The Honest Whore, Part 2 (Quarto 1, 1630)

    The Hone st Whore.
    385water, nor Harlots hoord vp money; they haue many vents,
    too many sluces to let it out; Tauernes, Taylors, Bawds,
    Panders, Fidlers, Swaggerers, Fooles and Knaues, doe all
    waite vpon a common Harlots trencher: she is the Gally-
    pot to which these Drones flye: not for loue to the pot, but
    390for the sweet sucket within it, her money, her money.
    Hip. I almo st dare pawne my word, her bosome giues
    warmth to no such Snakes; when did you see her?
    Orla. Not seuenteene Summers.
    Hip. Is your hate so old?
    395 Orla. Older; it has a white head, and shall neuer dye till
    she be buried,
    Her wrongs shall be my bedfellow.
    Hip. Worke yet his life, since in it liues her fame.
    Orla. No, let him hang, and halfe her infamy departs out
    400of the world: I hate him for her; he taught her fir st to ta ste poyson; I hate her for her selfe, because she refused my Phy sicke.
    Hip. Nay but Friscabaldo.
    Orl. I dete st her, I defie both, she's not mine, she's.
    405 Hip. Heare her but speake.
    Orl. I loue no Maremaides, Ile not be caught with a quaill
    pipe.
    Hip. Y'are now beyond all reason.
    Orl. I am then a Bea st. Sir, I had rather be a bea st, and not
    410di shonor my creation, then be a doting father, & like Time,
    be the de struction of mine owne broode.
    Hip. Is't dotage to relieue your child being poore?
    Orl. Is't fit for an old man to keepe a whore?
    Hip. 'Tis charity too.
    415 Orl. 'Tis foolery; releeue her!
    Were her cold limbes stretcht out vpon a Beere,
    I would not sell this durt vnder my nailes
    To buy her an houres breath, nor giue this haire,
    Vnle s s e it were to choke her.
    420 Hip. Fare you well, for Ile trouble you no more. Exit.
    Orl. And fare you well sir, goe thy waies, we haue few

    Lords