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  • Title: The Honest Whore, Part 1 (Quarto 1, 1604)
  • Editor: Joost Daalder
  • Contributing editor: Brett Greatley-Hirsch
  • Coordinating editor: Brett Greatley-Hirsch
  • General textual editor: Eleanor Lowe
  • 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.
    Authors: Thomas Dekker, Thomas Middleton
    Editor: Joost Daalder
    Peer Reviewed

    The Honest Whore, Part 1 (Quarto 1, 1604)

    The Honest Whore.
    110monday morning.
    Hipolito I, it cannot be,
    Such a bright taper should burne out so soone.
    Mathaeo O yes my Lord, so soone: why I ha knowne them,
    that at dinner have bin aswell, and had so much health, that they
    115were glad to pledge it, yet before three a clocke have bin found
    dead drunke.
    Hipolito On thurseday buried! and on monday died,
    Quicke haste birlady: sure her winding sheete
    Was laide out fore her bodie, and the wormes
    120That now must feast with her, were even bespoke,
    And solemnely invited like strange guests.
    Mathaeo Strange feeders they are indeede my lord, and like
    your jeaster or yong Courtier, will enter vpon any mans tren-
    cher without bidding.
    125Hipolito Curst be that day for ever that robd her
    Of breath, and me of blisse, hencefoorth let it stand
    Within the Wizardes booke (the kalendar)
    Markt with a marginall finger, to be chosen
    By theeves, by villaines, and blacke murderers,
    130As the best day for them to labour in.
    If hencefoorth this adulterous bawdy world
    Be got with childe with treason, sacrilege,
    Atheisme, rapes, treacherous friendship, periurie,
    Slaunder, (the beggars sinne) lies, (sinne of fooles)
    135Or anie other damnd impieties,
    On Monday let em be delivered:
    I sweare to thee Mathaeo, by my soule.
    Heereafter weekely on that day ile glew
    Mine eie-lids downe, because they shall not gaze
    140On any female cheeke. And being lockt vp
    In my close chamber, there ile meditate
    On nothing but my Infaelices end,
    Or on a dead mans scull drawe out mine owne.
    Mathaeo Youle doe all these good workes now every mon-
    145day, because it is so bad: but I hope vppon tuesday morning I
    shall take you with a wench.
    Hipolito If ever whilst fraile bloud through my veins runne,
    On