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.
    Thou doost abuse my childe, and mockst the teares
    35That heere are shed for her: If to behold
    Those roses withered, that set out her cheekes:
    That paire of starres that gave her body light,
    Darkned and dim for ever: All those rivers
    That fed her veines with warme and crimson streames,
    40Frozen and dried vp: If these be signes of death,
    Then is she dead. Thou vnreligious youth,
    Art not ashamde to emptie all these eyes
    Of funerall teares, (a debt due to the dead,)
    As mirth is to the living: Sham'st thou not
    45To have them stare on thee? harke, thou art curst
    Even to thy face, by those that scarce can speake.
    Hip. My Lord.
    Duke What wouldst thou have? is she not dead?
    Hip. Oh, you ha killd her by your crueltie.
    50Duke Admit I had, thou killst her now againe;
    And art more savage then a barbarous Moore.
    Hip. Let me but kisse her pale and bloodlesse lip.
    Duke O fie, fie, fie.
    Hip. Or if not touch her, let me looke on her.
    55Math. As you regard your honour.
    Hip. Honour! smoake.
    Math. Or if you lov'de hir living, spare her now.
    Duke I, well done sir, you play the gentleman:
    Steale hence: tis nobly done: away: Ile ioyne
    60My force to yours, to stop this violent torment:
    Passe on. Exeunt with funerall.
    Hip. Matheo, thou doost wound me more.
    Math. I give you phisicke noble friend, not wounds,
    Duke Oh well said, well done, a true gentleman:
    65Alacke, I know the sea of lovers rage
    Comes rushing with so strong a tide: it beates
    And beares downe all respects of life, of honour,
    Of friends, of foes, forget her gallant youth.
    Hip. Forget her?
    70Duke Na, na, be but patient:
    For why deaths hand hath sued a strict divorse