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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    Not Peer Reviewed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.
    Men should take many wiues: and tho they married
    According to that Act, yet 'tis not knowne,
    1955But that those wiues were onely tied to one.
    New Parliaments were since: for now one woman
    Is shared betweene three hundred, nay she's common;
    Common? as spotted Leopards, whom for sport
    Men hunt, to get the fle sh, but care not for't.
    1960So spread they Nets of gold, and tune their Calls,
    To inchaunt silly women to take falls:
    Swearing they are Angels, (which that they may win)
    They'll hire the Deuill to come with false Dice in.
    Oh Sirens suttle tunes! your selues you flatter,
    1965And our weake sex betray, so men loue water;
    It serues to wa sh their hands, but (being once foule)
    The water downe is powred, ca st out of doores,
    And euen of such base vse doe men make whores.
    A Harlot (like a Hen) more sweetnes reapes,
    1970To picke men one by one vp, then in heapes:
    Yet all feeds but confounding. Say you should ta ste me,
    I serue but for the time, and when the day
    Of warre is done, am ca sheerd out of pay:
    If like lame Soldiers I could beg, that's all,
    1975And there's lu sts Rendez-vous, an Hospitall.
    Who then would be a mans slaue, a mans woman?
    She's halfe starn'd the fir st day that feeds in Common.
    Hip. You should not feed so, but with me alone.
    Bel. If I drinke poison by stealth, is't not all one?
    1980Is't not ranke poison still? with you alone!
    Nay say you spide a Curtezan, whose soft side
    To touch, you'd sell your birth-right for one ki s s e,
    Be rack'd, she's won, y'are sated: what followes this?
    Oh, then you curse that Bawd that toald you in,
    1985(The Night) you curse your lu st, you loath the sin,
    You loath her very sight, and ere the day
    Arise, you rise glad when y'are stolne away.
    Euen then when you are drunke with all her sweets,
    There's no true pleasure in a Strumpets sheetes.

    Women,
    H