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About this text

  • 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    Not Peer Reviewed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.

    Enter the two Ma sters fir st, after them the Con stable, after them a
    2855 Beadle beating a Bason, then Catyryna Bountinall, with
    Mi stris Hor sleach, after them another Beadle with a
    blue head guarded with yellow.

    Cat. Sirra, when I cry hold your hands, hold, you Rogue-
    Catcher, hold: Bawd, are the French Chilblaines in your
    2860heeles, that you can come no fa ster? are not you (Bawd) a
    Whores Ancient, and mu st not I follow my Colours?
    Hors . O Mi stris Katherine, you doe me wrong to accuse
    mee here as you doe, before the right Wor shipfull: I am
    knowne for a motherly hone st woman, and no Bawd.
    2865 Cat. Mary foh, hone st? burnt at fourteene, seuen times
    whipt, sixe times carted, nine times duck'd, search'd by
    some hundred and fifty Con stables, and yet you are hone st?
    Hone st Mi stris Hor sleach, is this World, a World to keepe
    Bawds and Whores hone st? How many times ha st thou
    2870giuen Gentlemen a quart of wine in a gallon pot? how ma-
    ny twelue-penny Fees, nay two shillings Fees, nay, when
    any Emba s s adours ha beene here, how many halfe crowne
    Fees ha st thou taken? how many Carriers ha st thou bribed
    for Country Wenches? how often haue I rin st your lungs
    2875in Aquauitae , and yet you are hone st?
    Duke. And what were you the while st?
    Cat. Mary hang you, Ma ster Slaue, who made you an
    Lod. Well said, belike this Deuill spares no man.
    2880 Cat. What art thou prethee?
    Bots. Nay what art thou prethee?
    Cat. A Whore, art thou a Thiefe?
    Bots. A Thiefe, no, I defie the calling, I am a Soldier,
    haue borne Armes in the Field, beene in many a hot Skyr-
    2885mi sh, yet come off sound.
    Cat. Sound with a pox to yee, yee abominable Rogue!
    you a Soldier? you in Skirmi shes? where? among st pottle
    pots in a Bawdy-house? Looke, looke here, you Madam