Digital Renaissance Editions

About this text

  • Title: The Honest Whore, Part 2 (Quarto 1, 1630)
  • 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.
    Author: Thomas Dekker
    Editor: Joost Daalder
    Not Peer Reviewed

    The Honest Whore, Part 2 (Quarto 1, 1630)

    The Honest Whore.
    820Thou shalt be but a spider in mine eye.
    Th'art ranke with poyson, poyson temperd well,
    Is food for health; but thy blacke tongue doth swell
    With venome, to hurt him that gaue thee bread,
    To wrong men absent, is to spurne the dead.
    825And so did'st thou thy Master, and my Father.
    Orl. You haue small reason to take his part; for I haue
    heard him say fiue hundred times, you were as arrant a
    whore as euer stiffned tiffany neckcloathes in water-starch
    vpon a Saturday 'ith afternoone.
    830Bel. Let him say worse, when for the earths offence
    Hot vengeance through the marble cloudes is driuen,
    Is't fit earth shoot agen those darts at heauen?
    Orl. And so if your Father call you whore, you'll not call
    him old knaue: Friscabaldo, she carries thy mind vp and
    835downe; she's thine owne flesh, blood, and bone; troth Mi-
    stris, to tell you true, the fireworkes that ran from me vpon
    lines against my good old Master, your father, were but to
    try how my young Master, your Husband loued such squibs:
    but it's well knowne, I loue your father as my selfe; Ile ride
    840for him at mid-night, runne for you by Owle-light; Ile dye
    for him, drudge for you; Ile flye low, and Ile flye hye (as
    my Master saies) to doe you good, if you'll forgiue me.
    Bel. I am not made of marble: I forgiue thee.
    Orl. Nay, if you were made of marble, a good Stone-
    845cutter might cut you: I hope the twenty pound I deliuered
    to my Master, is in a sure hand.
    Bel. In a sure hand I warrant thee for spending.
    Orl. I see my yong Master is a madcap, and a bonus socius,
    I loue him well, Mistris: yet as well as I loue him, Ile not
    850play the knaue with you; looke you, I could cheat you of
    this purse full of money; but I am an old Lad, and I scorne
    to cunny-catch: yet I ha beene Dog at a Cony in my time.
    Bel. A purse, where hadst it?
    Orl. The Gentleman that went away, whisperd in mine
    855eare, and charged me to giue it you.
    Bel. The Lord Hipollito?