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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    Not Peer Reviewed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.
    for their money, neither were it wisedome indeed to pay
    them vpon the fir st edition of a new suite: for commonly
    1625the suite is owing for, when the lynings are worne out, and
    there's no reason then, that the Taylor should be paid be-
    fore the Mercer.
    Bel. Is this the suite the Knight be stowed vpon you?
    Mat. This is the suite, and I need not shame to weare it,
    1630for better men then I would be glad to haue suites be stow-
    ed on them. It's a generous fellow,--but--pox on him--we
    whose Pericranions are the very Limbecks and Stillitories
    of good wit, and flie hie, mu st driue liquor out of stale ga-
    ping Oy sters. Shallow Knight, poore Squire Tinacheo: Ile
    1635make a wild Cataine of forty such: hang him, he's an A s s e,
    he's alwaies sober.
    Bel. This is your fault to wound your friends still.
    Mat. No faith, Front, Lodouico is a noble Slauonian: it's
    more rare to see him in a womans company, then for a Spa-
    1640niard to goe into England, and to challenge the Engli sh Fen-
    cers there.--One knockes,-- See-- La, fa, sol, la, fa, la,
    ru stle in Silkes and Satins: there's mu sique in this, and a
    Taffety Petticoate, it make both flie hie,-- Catzo.

    Enter Bellafront, after her Orlando like himselfe, with
    1645 foure men after him.
    Bel. Matheo? 'tis my Father.
    Mat. Ha, Father? It's no matter, hee findes no tatterd
    Prodigals here.
    Orl. Is not the doore good enough to hold your blue
    1650Coates? away, Knaues. Weare not your cloathes thred-bare
    at knees for me; beg Heauens ble s sing, (not mine.) Oh cry
    your Wor ship mercy, sir, was somewhat bold to talke to
    this Gentlewoman, your wife here.
    Mat. A poore Gentlewoman, sir.
    1655 Orl. Stand not, sir, bare to me; I ha read oft
    That Serpents who creepe low, belch ranker poison
    That winged Dragons doe, that flie aloft.
    Mat. If it offend you, sir? 'tis for my pleasure.