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    Not Peer Reviewed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.
    1405Thy head lay in her lap, and that she danc't thee
    On her wanton knee, she could but giue thee a whole
    World: that's all, and that all's nothing; the worlds
    Greatest part cannot fill vp one corner of thy heart.
    Say, the three corners were all filld, alas!
    1410Of what art thou possest, a thinne blowne glasse:
    Such as by Boyes is puft into the aire.
    Were twenty Kingdomes thine, thou'dst liue in care:
    Thou could'st not sleepe the better, nor liue longer,
    Nor merrier be, nor healthfuller, nor stronger.
    1415If then thou want'st, thus make that want thy pleasure,
    No man wants all things, nor has all in measure.
    Mat. I am the most wretched fellow: sure some left-
    handed Priest christned me, I am so vnlucky: I am neuer
    out of one puddle or another, still falling.

    1420Enter Bellafront, and Orlando.
    Mat. Fill out wine to my little finger.
    With my heart yfaith.
    Lod. Thankes, good Matheo.
    To your owne sweet selfe.
    1425Orl. All the Brokers hearts, sir, are made of flint, I can
    with all my knocking, strike but sixe sparkes of fire out of them, here's sixe duckets, if youle take them.
    Mat. Giue me them: an euill conscience gnaw them all,
    moths and plagues hang vpon their lowsie wardrobs.
    1430Lod. Is this your man, Matheo? An old Seruingman.
    Orl. You may giue me t'other halfe too, sir:
    That's the Begger.
    Lod. What hast there, gold?
    Mat. A sort of Rascalls are in my debt, (God knowes
    1435what) and they feed me with bits, with crummes, a pox
    choke them.
    Lod. A word, Matheo: be not angry with me,
    Beleeue it that I know the touch of time,
    And can part copper (tho it be gilded o're)
    1440From the true gold: the sailes which thou doest spread,