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 conuerted Courtizan.
    Gaue money for my soule; you brake the Ice,
    Which after turnd a puddle: I was led
    By your temptation to be miserable:
    I pray seeke out some other that will fall,
    1670Or rather (I pray) seeke out none at all.
    Mat. Ist possible, to be impossible, an honest whore! I
    haue heard many honest wenches turne Strumpets with
    a wet finger; but for a Harlot to turne honest, is one of Her-
    cules labours: It was more easie for him in one night to
    1675make fifty queanes, then to make one of them honest a-
    gen in fifty yeeres: come, I hope thou doost but iest.
    Bel. Tis time to leaue off iesting, I had almost
    Iested away Saluation: I shall loue you,
    If you will soone forsake me.
    1680Mat. God buy thee.
    Bel. Oh, tempt no more womē: shun their weighty curse,
    Women (at best) are bad, make them not worse,
    You gladly seeke our sexes ouerthrow:
    But not to rayse our states for all your wrongs.
    1685Will you vouchsafe me but due recompence,
    To marry with me?
    Mat. How, marry with a Punck, a Cockatrice, a Har-
    lot? mary foh, Ile be burnt thorow the nose first.
    Bel. Why la? these are your othes you loue to vndo vs,
    1690To put heauen from vs, whilst our best houres waste:
    You loue to make vs lewd, but neuer chaste.
    Mat. Ile heare no more of this: this ground vpon,
    Th'art damn'd for altring thy Religion. Exit.
    Bel. Thy lust and sin speake so much: go thou my ruine,
    1695The first fall my soule tooke; by my example
    I hope few maydens now will put their heads
    Vnder mens girdels: who least trusts, is most wise:
    Mens othes do cast a mist before our eyes.
    My best of wit be ready: now I goe,
    1700By some deuice to greet Hipolito.
    F 4 SCENA