Digital Renaissance Editions

Author: Thomas Dekker
Editor: Joost Daalder
Not Peer Reviewed

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

Enter Candido, Lodouico, and Carolo. Lodouico other
Guests, and Bride with Prentises.
465Cand. O Gentlemen, so late, y'are very welcome, pray
sit downe.
Lod. Carolo, did'st ere see such a nest of Caps?
Asto. Me thinkes
It's a most ciuill and most comely sight.
470Lod. What does he 'ith middle looke like?
Asto. Troth like a spire steeple in a Country Village
ouerpeering so many thatcht houses.
Lod. It's rather a long pike staffe against so many buck-
lers without pikes; they sit for all the world like a paire of
475Organs, and hee's the tall great roaring pipe'ith middest.
Asto. Ha, ha, ha, ha.
Cand. What's that you laugh at, Signiors?
Lod. Troth shall I tell you, and aloude Ile tell it,
We laugh to see (yet laugh we not in scorne)
480Amongst so many Caps that long Hat worne.
Lodo. Mine is as tall a felt as any is this day in Millan, and
therefore I loue it, for the blocke was cleft out for my head,
and fits me to a haire.
Cand. Indeed you are good obseruers, it shewes strange.
485But Gentlemen, I pray neither contemne,
Nor yet deride a ciuill ornament;
I could build so much in the round Caps praise,
That loue this hye roofe, I this flat would raise.
Lod. Prethee sweet Bridegrome doo't.
490Cand. So all these guests will pardon me, Ile doo't.
Omnes. With all our hearts.
The Honest Whore.
Cand. Thus then in the Caps honor,
To euery Sex and state, both Nature, Time,
The Countries lawes, yea and the very Clime
495Doe allot distinct habits, the spruce Courtier
Iets vp and downe in silke: the Warrier
Marches in buffe, the Clowne plods on in gray:
But for these vpper garments thus I say,
The Sea-man has his Cap, par'd without brim,
500The Gallants head is featherd, that fits him;
The Soldier has his Murren, women ha Tires;
Beasts haue their head-peeces, and men ha theirs.
Lod. Proceed.
Cand. Each degree has his fashion, it's fit then,
505One should be laid by for the Citizen,
And that's the Cap which you see swels not hye,
For Caps are Emblems of humility;
It is a Citizens badge, and first was worne
By'th Romanes; for when any Bondmans turne
510Came to be made a Freeman: thus 'twas said,
He to the Cap was call'd; that is, was made
Of Rome a Freeman, but was first close shorne,
And so a Citizens haire is still short worne.
Lod. That close shauing made Barbers a Company,
515And now euery Citizen vses it.
Cand. Of Geometricke figures the most rare,
And perfect'st are the Circle and the square,
The Citty and the Schoole much build vpon
These figures, for both loue proportion.
520The City Cap is round, the Schollers square.
To shew that Gouernment and learning are
The perfect'st limbes i'th body of a State:
For without them, all's disproportionate.
If the Cap had no honor, this might reare it,
525The Reuerend Fathers of the Law doe weare it.
It's light for Summer, and in cold it sits
Close to the scull, a warme house for the wits;
It shewes the whole face boldly, 'tis not made
C As
The Honest Whore.
As if a man to looke on't were afraide,
530Nor like a Drapers shop with broad darke shed,
For hee's no Citizen that hides his head.
Flat Caps as proper are to Citty Gownes,
As to Armors Helmets, or to Kings their Crownes.
Let then the City Cap by none be scornd,
535Since with it Princes heads haue beene adornd.
If more the round Caps honor you would know,
How would this long Gowne with this steeple show?
Omnes. Ha, ha, ha: most vile, most vgly.
Cand. Pray Signior pardon me, 'twas done in iest.
540Bride. A cup of claret wine there.
1. Wine: yes forsooth, wine for the Bride.
Car. You ha well set out the Cap, sir.
Lod. Nay, that's flat.
Long. A health.
545Lod. Since his Cap's round, that
}The Bride hits
the Prentice on
the lips.
Shall goe round. Be bare,
For in the Caps praise all of you haue share.
Lod. The Bride's at cuffes.
Cand. Oh, peace I pray thee, thus far off I stand, I spied the
550error of my seruants, she call'd for Claret, and you fill'd out Sacke; that cup giue me, 'tis for an old mans backe, and
not for hers. Indeed 'twas but mistaken, aske all these
Omnes. No faith, 'twas but mistaken.
5551. Nay, she tooke it right enough.
Cand. Good Luke reach her that glasse of Claret.
Here, Mistris Bride, pledge me there.
Bride. Now Ile none. Exit Bride.
Cand. How now?
560Lod. Looke what your Mistris ayles.
1. Nothing, sir, but about filling a wrong glasse, a scuruy
Cand. I pray you hold your tongue, my seruant there tells
me she is not well.
565Omnes. Step to her, step to her.
The Honest Whore.
Lod. A word with you: doe ye heare? This wench (your
new wife) will take you downe in your wedding shooes,
vnlesse you hang her vp in her wedding garters.
Cand. How, hang her in her garters?
570Lod. Will you be a rame Pidgeon still? shall your backe
be like a Tortoys shell, to let Carts goe ouer it, yet not to
breake? This Shee-cat will haue more liues then your last
Pusse had, and will scratch worse, and mouze you worse:
looke toot.
575Cand. What would you haue me doe, sir?
Lod. What would I haue you doe? Sweare, swagger,
brawle, fling; for fighting it's no matter, we ha had knocking
Pusses enow already; you know, that a woman was made of
the rib of a man, and that rib was crooked. The Morall of
580which is, that a man must from his beginning be crooked
to his wife; be you like an Orāge to her, let her cut you neuer
so faire, be you sowre as vineger; will you be ruled by me?
Cand. In any thing that's ciuill, honest, and iust.
Lod. Haue you euer a Prentices suite will fit me?
585Cand. I haue the very same which my selfe wore.
Lod. Ile send my man for't within this halfe houre, and
within this two houres Ile be your Prentice: the Hen shall
not ouercrow the Cocke, Ile sharpen your spurres.
Cand. It will be but some iest, sir.
590Lod. Onely a iest: farewell, come Carolo. Exeunt.
Omnes. Wee'll take our leaues, Sir, too.
Cand. Pray conceite not ill of my wiues sodaine rising.
This young Knight, Sir Lodouico, is deepe seene in Phisicke,
and he tells me, the disease call'd the Mother, hangs on my
595wife, it is a vehement heauing and beating of the Stomacke,
and that swelling did with the paine thereof crampe vp her
arme, that hit his lips, and brake the glasse: no harme, it was
no harme.
Omnes. No, Signior, none at all.
600Cand. The straightest arrow may flye wide by chance.
But come, we'll cloze this brawle vp in some dance. Exeunt.