The Honest Whore, [Part Two]

Good day, gallants.

Good morrow, sweet 7Lodovico.

How dost thou, Carolo?

Faith, as physicians do 10in a plague: see the world sick, 11and am well myself.

Hereʼs a sweet morning, gentlemen.

O, a morning to tempt Jove from his ningle Ganymede, 14which is but to give dairy-wenches green gowns as 15they are going a-milking. [To Astolfo] What, is thy lord stirring yet?

Yes; he will not be horsed this hour, sure.

My lady swears he shall, for she longs to be 18at court.

O, we shall ride switch and spur. Would we 20were there once!

[To Brian] How now, is thy lord ready?

No, so Crees saʼ me; my lady will have some little 24ting in her pelly first.

O, then theyʼll to breakfast.

Footman, does my lord ride iʼthʼ coach with my 27lady, or on horseback?

No, foot, la; my lady will have me lord sheet wid 29her. My lord will sheet in de one side, and my lady sheet 30in de toder side.

‘My lady sheet in de toder sideʼ! Did you ever hear a 32rascal talk so like a pagan? Isʼt not strange that a fellow of his 33star should be seen here so long in Italy, yet 34speak so from a Christian?

An Irishman in Italy! That so strange? Why, the nation 37have running heads.

Nay, Carolo, this is more strange: I haʼ been in France – 39thereʼs few of them. Marry, England they count a warm 40chimney-corner, and there they swarm like crickets to the 41crevice of a brew-house. But, sir, in England I have noted 42one thing.

Whatʼs that? Whatʼs that of England?

Marry, this, sir – [Indicating Antonio] Whatʼs he yonder?

A poor fellow would speak with my lord.

In England, sir – troth, I ever laugh when I think 47onʼt: to see a whole nation should be marked iʼthʼ forehead, 48as a man may say, with one iron – why, sir, there all 49costermongers are Irishmen.

O, thatʼs to show their antiquity, as coming 51from Eve who was an apple-wife; and they take after the 52mother.

[Laughing] Good, good! Ha, ha!

Why, then, should all your chimney-sweepers 55likewise be Irishmen? Answer that, now; come, your wit!

Faith, thatʼs soon answered; for Saint Patrick, you 57know, keeps purgatory. He makes the fire, and his 58countrymen could do nothing if they cannot sweep the 59chimneys.

Good again!

Then, sir, you have many of them, like this fellow 62(especially those of his hair), footmen to noblemen and 63others. And the knaves are very faithful where they love, by 64my faith – very proper men, many of them, and as active as 65the clouds: whirr, ha!

Are they so?

And stout! Exceeding stout. Why, I warrant this 68precious wild villain, if he were put toʼt, would fight 69more desperately than sixteen Dunkirks.

The women, they say, are very fair.

No, no, our country buona-robas – O! – are the 72sugarest delicious rogues.

O, look, he has a feeling of them!

Not I, I protest. Thereʼs a saying when they 75commend nations. It goes: the Irishman for his hand, the 76Welshman for a leg, the Englishman for a face, and Dutchman for a 77beard –

Iʼfaith, they may make swabbers of them.

The Spaniard – let me see – for a little foot, I take it; the 80Frenchman – what a-pox hath he? And so the rest. 81Are they at breakfast yet? Come, walk.

[Talking apart to his companions] This Lodovico is a notable-tongued fellow.

Discourses well.

And a very honest gentleman.

O, heʼs well valued by my lord.

[To his companions] How now, how now, whatʼs she?

Letʼs make towards her.

[To Astolfo] Will it be long, sir, ere my lord come forth?

[To her] Would you speak with my lord?

[To her, indicating the petition] How now, whatʼs this? A nurseʼs bill? Hath any here 92got thee with child, and now will not keep it?

No, sir, my business is unto my lord.

Heʼs about his own wifeʼs now; heʼll hardly 95despatch two causes in a morning.

No matter what he says, fair lady, heʼs a knight; 97thereʼs no hold to be taken at his words.

My lord will pass this way presently.

[Talking apart to the other Gentlemen] A pretty, plump rogue.

A good lusty, bouncing baggage.

[To Lodovico] Do you know her?

A pox on her! I was sure her name was in my 103table-book once. I know not of what cut her die is now, but she 104has been more common than tobacco. This is she that had 105the name of ‘The Honest Whoreʼ.

Is this she?

This is the blackamoor that by washing was turned 108white; this is the birding-piece new scoured; this is she 109that – if any of her religion can be saved – was saved by my 110lord Hippolito.

She has been a goodly creature.

‘She has beenʼ! Thatʼs the epitaph of all whores. Iʼm 113well acquainted with the poor gentleman her husband. 114Lord, what fortunes that man has overreached! She knows 115not me, yet I have been in her company; I scarce know her, 116for the beauty of her cheek hath, like the moon, suffered 117strange eclipses since I beheld it. But women are like 118medlars – no sooner ripe but rotten.

My lord is come.

We haʼ wasted half this morning! – Morrow, Lodovico.

[To Infelice] Morrow, madam.

Letʼs away to horse.

Letʼs away to horse. Ay, ay, to horse, to horse.

[Approaching Hippolito] I do beseech your lordship, let your eye

1.1.64Read 128oʼre this wretched paper.

Read oʼre this wretched paper. Iʼm in haste;

1.1.65Pray thee, good woman, take some apter time.

Good woman, do.

Good woman, do. O, ʼlas! It does concern

1.1.67A poor manʼs life.

A poor manʼs life. Life? [To Infelice] Sweetheart, seat yourself;

1.1.68Iʼll but read this 133and come.

[Aside to Infelice] What stockings have you put on this morning, 135madam? If they be not yellow, change them; that paper is a 136letter from some wench to your husband.

O sir, that cannot make me jealous.

[To Antonio] Your business, sir? To me?

[To Antonio] Your business, sir? To me? Yes, my good lord.

Presently, sir. [To Bellafront] Are you Mattheoʼs wife?

That most unfortunate woman.

That most unfortunate woman. Iʼm sorry

1.1.74These storms are fallen on him. I love Mattheo,

1.1.75143And any good shall do him. He and I

1.1.76144Have sealed two bonds of friendship, which are strong

1.1.77145In me, however fortune does him wrong.

1.1.78146He speaks here heʼs condemned. Isʼt so?

He speaks here heʼs condemned. Isʼt so? Too true.

What was he whom he killed? O, his nameʼs here:

1.1.80149Old Giacomo, son to the Florentine

1.1.81Giacomo – a dog that to 150meet profit

1.1.82Would to the very eyelids wade in blood

1.1.83Of his 151own children!

1.1.84Tell Mattheo the Duke my father hardly 152shall

1.1.85Deny his signèd pardon. ʼTwas fair fight, yes,

1.1.86If rumourʼs 153tongue go true; so writes he here.

1.1.87154Tomorrow morning I return from court;

1.1.88155Pray be you here then. [To Antonio] Iʼll have done, sir, straight. –

1.1.89156But in troth, say, are you Mattheoʼs wife?

1.1.90157You have forgot me.

You have forgot me. No, my lord.

You have forgot me. No, my lord. Your turner,

1.1.91160That made you smooth to run an even bias.

1.1.92161You know I loved you when your very soul

1.1.93162Was full of discord. Art not a good wench still?

Umph! When I had lost my way to heaven, you showed it;

1.1.95164I was newborn that day.

ʼSfoot, my lord, your lady asks if you have not left 166your wench yet. When you get in once, you never have 167done. Come, come, come, pay your old score and send her 168packing. Come.

Ride softly on before; Iʼll oʼertake you.

Your lady swears sheʼll have no riding on before 171without ye.

Prithee, good Lodovico –

My lord, pray hasten.

I come.

1.1.102[To Bellafront] Tomorrow let me see you. Fare you well.

1.1.103175Commend me to Mattheo. – Pray, one word more:

1.1.104Does not 176your father live about the court?

I think he does; but such rude spots of shame

1.1.106178Stick on my cheek that he scarce knows my name.

Orlando Frescobaldo, isʼt not?

Orlando Frescobaldo, isʼt not? Yes, my lord.

What does he for you?

What does he for you? All he should; when children

1.1.110183From duty start, parents from love may swerve.

1.1.111184He nothing does, for nothing I deserve.

Shall I join him unto you, and restore you

1.1.113186To wonted grace?

To wonted grace? It is impossible.

It shall be put to trial. Fare you well.

1.1.115189[Aside] The face I would not look on! Sure then ʼtwas rare,

1.1.116190When in despite of grief ʼtis still thus fair.

1.1.117191[To Antonio] Now, sir, your business with me?

[To Antonio] Now, sir, your business with me? I am bold

1.1.118To express my love and duty to your 193lordship

1.1.119In these few leaves.

In these few leaves. A book!

In these few leaves. A book! Yes, my good lord.

Are you a scholar?

Are you a scholar? Yes, my lord, a poor one.

Sir you honour me.

1.1.122199Kings may be scholarsʼ patrons, but, faith, tell me:

1.1.123200To how many hands besides hath this bird flown?

1.1.124201How many partners share with me?

How many partners share with me? Not one,

1.1.125In troth, not one; your name I held more dear.

1.1.126203Iʼm not, my lord, of that low character.

Your name, I pray?

Your name, I pray? Antonio Giorgio.

Of Milan?

Of Milan? Yes, my lord.

Of Milan? Yes, my lord. Iʼll borrow leave

1.1.129209To read you oʼer, and then weʼll talk. Till then

1.1.130210Drink up this gold. Good wits should love good wine;

1.1.131211This of your loves, the earnest that of mine.

1.1.132212[To Brian] How now, sir, whereʼs your lady? Not gone yet?

I fart dy Lady is run away from dee, a mighty 215deal of ground. She sent me back for dine own sweet 216face. I pray dee come, my lord, away; wuʼt tow go now?

Is the coach gone? 218Saddle my horse, the sorrel.

A pox oʼde horseʼs nose! He is a lousy, rascally 220fellow. When I came to gird his belly, his scurvy guts 221rumbled; dy horse farted in my face, and dow knowst an 222Irishman cannot abide a fart. But I have saddled de hobby-horse; 223dy fine hobby is ready. I pray dee, my good sweet lord, 224wiʼt tow go now, and I will run to de devil before dee?

Well, sir. [To Antonio] I pray letʼs see you, Master Scholar.

Come, I pray dee; wuʼt come, sweet face? Go.