Digital Renaissance Editions

About this text

  • Title: The Honest Whore, Part 1 (Quarto 2, 1604)
  • 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.
    Authors: Thomas Dekker, Thomas Middleton
    Editor: Joost Daalder
    Peer Reviewed

    The Honest Whore, Part 1 (Quarto 2, 1604)

    The converted Curtezan.
    Doctor Ile starve her on the Appenine
    Ere he shall marry her: I must confesse,
    Hipolito is nobly borne, a man;
    340Did not mine enemies blood boile in his veines,
    Whom I would court to be my sonne in law?
    But Princes whose high spleenes for empery swell,
    Are not with easie Arte made paralell.
    2 Ser. She wakes my Lord. Duke Looke Doctor Benedict.
    345I charge you on your lives maintaine for truth,
    What ere the Doctor or my selfe averre,
    For you shall beare her hence to Bergamo
    Inf: Oh God, what fearefull dreames?
    Doctor Lady. Inf. Ha.
    350Duke Girle.
    Why Infaelica, how ist now, ha, speake?
    Inf. I'me well, what makes this Doctor heere? I'me well.
    Duke Thou wert not so even now, sicknes pale hand
    Laid hold on thee even in the midst} of feasting;
    355And when a cup crownde with thy lovers health
    Had toucht thy lips, a sencible cold dew
    Stood on thy cheekes, as if that death had wept
    To see such beautie alter.
    Inf. I remember
    360I sate at banquet, but felt no such change.
    Duke Thou hast forgot then how a messenger
    Came wildely in with this vnsavorie newes,
    That he was dead.
    Inf. What messenger? whoes dead?
    365Duke Hipolito, alacke, wring not thy hands.
    Inf. I saw no messenger, heard no such newes.
    Doctor Trust me you did sweete Lady.
    Duke La you now. 2 Servants Yes indeede Madam.
    Duke La you now, tis well good knaves.
    370Inf. You ha slaine him, and now you'le murder me.
    Duke Good Infelica vexe not thus thy selfe,
    Of this the bad report before did strike
    So coldly to thy heart, that the swift currents
    Of life were all frozen vp.