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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)

    Enter Fustigo in some fantastike Sea-suite at one
    doore, a Porter meets him at another.
    Fust. How now porter, will she come?
    Porter If I may trust a woman sir, she will come.
    165Fust. Theres for thy paines, godamercy, if ever I stand in
    neede of a wench that will come with a wet finger, Porter, thou
    shalt earne my mony before anie Clarissimo in Millane; yet so
    god sa mee shees mine owne sister body and soule, as I am a
    christian Gentleman; farewell, ile ponder till shee come: thou
    170hast bin no bawde in fetching this woman, I assure thee.
    Porter No matter if I had sir, better men than Porters are
    bawdes.
    Fust. O God sir, manie that have borne offices. But Por-
    ter, art sure thou wentst into a true house?
    175Porter I thinke so, for I met with no thieves.
    Fust. Nay but arte sure it was my sister Viola.
    Porter I am sure by all superscriptions it was the partie you (ciphered.
    Fust. Not very tall.
    Porter Nor very lowe, a midling woman.
    180Fust. Twas she faith, twas she, a prettie plumpe cheeke like (mine.
    Porter At a blush, a little very much like you.
    Fust. Gods so, I would not for a duckat she had kickt vp hir
    heeles, for I ha spent an abomination this voyage, marie I
    did it amongst sailers and gentlemen: theres a little modicum
    more
    The Honest Whore.
    185more porter for making thee stay, farewell honest porter.
    Porter I am in your debt sir, God preserve you. Exit.
    Enter Viola.
    Fu. Not so neither, good porter, gods lid, yonder she coms.
    Sister Viola, I am glad to see you stirring: its newes to have mee
    190heere, ist not sister?
    Viola Yes trust me: I wondred who should be so bolde to
    send for me, you are welcome to Millan brother.
    Fust. Troth sister I heard you were married to a verie rich
    chuffe, and I was very sorie for it, that I had no better clothes,
    195and that made me send: for you knowe wee Millaners love to
    strut vpon Spanish leather. And how does all our friends?
    Viola Very well; you ha travelled enough now, I trowe, to
    sowe your wilde oates.
    Fust. A pox on em; wilde oates, I ha not an oate to throw
    200at a horse, troth sister I ha sowde my oates, and reapt 200.
    duckats if I had em, heere, mary I must intreate you to lend me
    some thirty or forty till the ship come, by this hand ile discharge
    at my day, by this hand.
    Viola These are your olde oaths.
    205Fust. Why sister, doe you thinke ile forsweare my hand?
    Viola Well, well, you shall have them: put your selfe into
    better fashion, because I must imploy you in a serious matter.
    Fust. Ile sweare like a horse if I like the matter.
    Uiola You ha cast off all your olde swaggering humours.
    210Fust. I had not sailde a league in that great fish-pond (the
    sea) but I cast vp my very gall.
    Viola I am the more sory, for I must imploy a true swagge-
    rer.
    Fust. Nay by this yron sister, they shall finde I am powlder
    215and touch-box, if they put fire once into me.
    Uiola Then lend me your eares.
    Fust. Mine eares are yours deere sister.
    Uiola I am married to a man that haz wealth enough, and
    wit enough.
    220Fust. A linnen Draper I was tolde sister.
    Viola Very true, a grave Cittizen; I want nothing that a
    wife can wish from a husband: but heeres the spite, hee haz
    not
    The Honest Whore.
    not all things belonging to a man.
    Fust. Gods my life, hee's a verie mandrake, or else (God
    blesse 225vs) one a these whiblins, and thats woorse, and then
    all the children that he gets lawfully of your body sister, are
    bastards by a statute.
    Vio: O you runne over me too fast brother, I have heard it
    often said, that hee who cannot be angry, is no man. I am sure
    230my husband is a man in print, for all things else, save onely in
    this, no tempest can move him.
    Fist. Slid, would he had beene at sea with vs, hee should ha
    beene movde and movde agen, for Ile be sworne la, our drun-
    ken ship reelde like a Dutchman.
    235Viola No losse of goods can increase in him a wrinckle, no
    crabbed language make his countenance sowre, the stubburn-
    nes of no servant shake him, he haz no more gall in him than a
    Dove, no more sting than an Ant: Musitian will he never bee,
    (yet I finde much musicke in him,) but he loves no frets, and
    is 240so free from anger, that many times I am ready to bite off my
    tongue, because it wants that vertue which all womens tongues
    have (to anger their husbands:) Brother, mine can by no thun-
    der: turne him into a sharpenes.
    Fust. Belike his blood sister, is well brewd then.
    245Viola I protest to thee Fustigo, I love him most affecti-
    onately, but I know not ---- I ha such a tickling with-
    in mee ---- such a strange longing; nay, verily I doo
    long.
    Fustigo Then y'are with childe sister, by all signes and
    250tokens; nay, I am partly a Phisitian, and partly something
    else. I ha read Albertus Magnus, and Aristotles em-
    blemes.
    Viola Y'are wide ath bow hand still brother: my longings
    are not wanton, but wayward: I long to have my patient hus-
    255band eate vp a whole Porcupine, to the intent, the bristling
    quills may sticke about his lippes like a flemmish mustacho,
    and be shot at me: I shall be leaner than the new Moone, vn-
    lesse I can make him hornemad.
    Fust: Sfoote halfe a quarter of an houre does that: make him
    260a cuckold.
    B Viola
    The Honest Whore.
    Viola Puh, he would count such a cut no vnkindenes.
    Fust. The honester Cittizen he, then make him drunke and
    cut off his beard.
    Viola Fie, fie, idle, idle, hee's no French-man, to fret at the
    265losse of a little scalde haire. No brother, thus it shall be, you must
    be secret.
    Fu. As your Mid-wife I protest sister, or a Barber-surgeon.
    Viola Repaire to the Tortoys heere in S. Christophers streete,
    I will send you mony, turne your selfe into a brave man: insteed
    270of the armes of your mistris, let your sword and your militarie
    scarfe hang about your necke.
    Fust: I must have a great Horse-mans French feather too
    sister.
    Uiola O, by any meanes, to shew your light head, else your
    275hat will sit like a coxcombe: to be briefe, you must bee in all
    points a most terrible wide-mouth'd swaggerer.
    Fust. Nay, for swaggering points let me alone.
    Viola Resort then to our shop, and (in my husbands presence)
    kisse me, snatch rings, jewells, or any thing; so you give it backe
    280agen brother in secret.
    Fust. By this hand sister.
    Uiola Sweare as if you came but new from knight-
    ing.
    Fust. Nay, Ile sweare after 400. a yeare.
    285Uiola Swagger worse then a Lievetenant among fresh-wa-
    ter souldiers, call me your love, your yngle, your coosen, or so;
    but sister at no hand.
    Fust. No, no, It shall be coosen, or rather cuz, thats the gulling
    word betweene the Cittizens wives & their olde dames, 290that
    man em to the garden; to call you one a mine aunts, sister, were
    as good as call you arrant whoores no, no, let me alone to cosen
    you rarely.
    Uiola Haz heard I have a brother, but never saw him, there-
    fore put on a good face.
    295Fust. The best in Millan I warrant.
    Viola Take vp wares, but pay nothing, rifle my bosome, my
    pocket, my purse, the boxes for mony to dice with all; but bro-
    ther, you must give all backe agen in secret.
    Fustigo
    The Honest Whore.
    Fustigo By this welkin that heere roares? I will, or else
    300let me never know what a secret is: why sister do you thinke
    Ile cunni-catch you, when you are my coosen? Gods my life,
    then I were a starke Asse, if I fret not his guts, beg me for a
    foole.
    Viola Be circumspect, and do so then, farewell.
    305Fust. The Tortoys sister? Ile stay there; forty duckats. Exit.
    Viola Thither Ile send: this law can none deny,
    Women must have their longings, or they die. Exit.