The Honest Whore.
148148On womans beames I throw a
ffe
ction,
149149Save her thats dead: or that I loo
sely
flie
150150To'th
shoare of any other wafting eie,
151151Let me not pro
sper heaven. I will be true,
152152Even to her du
st and a
shes
: could her tombe
153153Stand whil
st I livde
so long, that it might rot,
154154That
should fall downe, but
she be ne're forgot.
155155Mathaeo If you have this
strange mon
ster, Hone
stie, in
156156your belly, why
so Iig-makers and chroniclers
shall picke
som
- 157157thing out of you
: but and I
smell not you and a bawdy hou
se
158158out within the
se tenne daies, let my no
se be as bigge as an En
- 159159gli
sh bag-pudding
: Ile followe your lord
ship, though it be to
160160the place aforenamed.
Exeunt.
161161Enter Fustigo in some fantastike Sea-suite at one 162162doore, a Porter meets him at another. 163163Fust. How now porter, will
she come?
164164Porter If I may tru
st a woman
sir,
she will come.
165165Fust. Theres for thy paines, godamercy, if ever I
stand in
166166neede of a wench that will come with a wet
finger, Porter, thou
167167shalt earne my mony before anie
Clarissimo in Millane; yet
so
168168god
sa mee
shees mine owne
sister body and
soule, as I am a
169169chri
stian Gentleman; farewell, ile ponder till
shee come: thou
170170ha
st bin no bawde in fetching this woman, I a
ssure thee.
171171Porter No matter if I had
sir, better men than Porters are
173173Fust. O God
sir, manie that have borne o
ffices. But Por
- 174174ter, art
sure thou went
st into a true hou
se
? 175175Porter I thinke
so, for I met with no thieves.
176176Fust. Nay but arte
sure it was my
sister
Viola.
177177Porter I am
sure by all
super
scriptions it was the partie you
(ciphered. 179179Porter Nor very lowe, a midling woman.
180180Fust. Twas
she faith, twas
she, a prettie plumpe cheeke like
(mine. 181181Porter At a blu
sh, a little very much like you.
182182Fust. Gods
so, I would not for a duckat
she had kickt vp hir
183183heeles, for I ha
spent an abomination this voyage, marie I
184184did it among
st sailers and gentlemen: theres a little modicum
more