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    Not Peer Reviewed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)

    1Actus primus, Scaena prima.
    Enter at one doore Beraldo, Carolo, Fontinell, Astolfo, with
    Seruingmen, or Pages attending on them; at another
    doore enter Lodouico, meeting them.
    5Lodouico. GOod day, Gallants.
    Omnes. Good morrow, sweet
    Lodo. How doest thou Carolo.
    Carolo. Faith, as Physicions doe
    10in a Plague, see the World sicke,
    and am well my selfe.
    Fontinell. Here's a sweet morning, Gentlemen.
    Lod. Oh, a morning to tempt Ioue frō his Ningle Ganimed,
    which is but to giue Dary Wenches greene gownes as
    15they are going a milking; what, is thy Lord stirring yet?
    Astolfo. Yes, he will not be horst this houre, sure.
    Bercaldo. My Lady sweares he shall, for she longs to bee
    at Court.
    Carolo. Oh, wee shall ride switch and spurre, would we
    20were there once.
    A 2 Enter
    The Honest Whore.
    Enter Bryan the Footeman.
    Lod. How now, is thy Lord ready?
    Bryan. No so crees sa mee, my Lady will haue some little
    Tyng in her pelly first.
    25Caro. Oh, then they'le to breakefast.
    Lod. Footman, does my Lord ride y'th Coach with my
    Lady, or on horsebacke?
    Bry. No foot la, my Lady will haue me Lord sheet wid
    her, my Lord will sheet in de one side, and my Lady sheet
    30in de toder side. Exeunt.
    Lod. My Lady sheet in de toder side: did you euer here a
    Rascall talke so like a Pagan? Is't not strange that a fellow
    of his starre, should bee seene here so long in Italy, yet
    speake so from a Christian?
    35Enter Anthonio, Georgio, a poore Scholler.
    Astol. An Irishman in Italy! that so strange! why, the na-
    tion haue running heads. Exchange Walke.
    Lod. Nay Carolo, this is more strange, I ha bin in France,
    theres few of them: Mary, England they count a warme
    40chimny corner, and there they swarme like Crickets to the
    creuice of a Brew-house; but Sir, in England I haue noted
    one thing.
    Omnes. What's that, what's that of England?
    Lod. Mary this Sir, what's he yonder?
    45Bert. A poore fellow would speake with my Lord.
    Lod. In England, Sir, troth I euer laugh when I thinke
    on't: to see a whole Nation should be mark't i'th forehead,
    as a man may say, with one Iron: why Sir, there all Coster-
    mongers are Irishmen.
    50Caro. Oh, that's to show their Antiquity, as comming
    from Eue, who was an Apple-wife, and they take after the
    Omnes. Good, good, ha, ha.
    Lod. Why then, should all your Chimny-sweepers like-
    55wise be Irishmen? answer that now, come, your wit.
    The Honest Whore.
    Caro. Faith, that's soone answered, for S. Patricke you
    know keepes Purgatory, hee makes the fire, and his
    Country-men could doe nothing, if they cannot sweepe the
    60Omnes. Good agen.
    Lod. Then, Sir, haue you many of them (like this fellow)
    (especially those of his haire) Footmen to Noblemen and o-
    thers, and the Knaues are very faithfull where they loue, by
    my faith very proper men many of them, and as actiue as
    65the cloudes, whirre, hah.
    Omnes. Are they so?
    Lod. And stout! exceeding stout; Why, I warrant, this
    precious wild Villaine, if hee were put to't, would fight
    more desperately then sixteene Dunkerkes.
    70Asto. The women they say are very faire.
    Lod. No, no, our Country Bona Robaes, oh! are the su-
    grest delicious Rogues.
    Asto. Oh, looke, he has a feeling of them.
    Lod. Not I, I protest, there's a saying when they com-
    75mend Nations: It goes, the Irishman for his hand, Welsh-
    man for a leg, the Englishman for a face, the Dutchman for
    Fron. I faith, they may make swabbers of them.
    Lod. The Spaniard, let me see, for a little foot (I take it) the
    80Frenchman, what a pox hath he? and so of the rest.
    Are they at breakfast yet? come walke.
    Ast. This Lodouico, is a notable tounged fellow.
    Fron. Discourses well.
    Berc. And a very honest Gentleman.
    85Asto. Oh! hee's well valued by my Lord.
    Enter Bellafront with a Petition.
    Fron. How now, how now, what's she?
    Bert. Let's make towards her.
    Bella. Will it be long, sir, ere my Lord come forth?
    90Ast. Would you speake with my Lord?
    Lod. How now, what's this, a Nurses Bill? hath any here
    A 3 got
    The Honest Whore.
    got thee with child, and now will not keepe it?
    Bolla. No sir, my businesse is vnto my Lord.
    Lod. Hee's about his owne wife now, hee'le hardly dis-
    95patch two causes in a morning.
    Asto. No matter what he saies, faire Lady, hee's a Knight,
    there's no hold to be taken at his words.
    Fro. My Lord will passe this way presently.
    Bert. A pretty plumpe Rogue.
    100Ast. A good lusty bouncing baggage.
    Bert. Doe you know her?
    Lod. A pox on her, I was sure her name was in my Table-
    booke once, I know not of what cut her dye is now, but she
    has beene more common then Tobacco: this is she that had
    105the name of the Honest Whore.
    Omnes. Is this she?
    Lod. This is the Blackamore that by washing was turned
    white: this is the Birding Peece new scowred: this is shee
    that (if any of her religion can be saued) was saued by my
    110Lord Hipolito.
    Asto. She has beene a goodly creature.
    Lod. She has bin! that's the Epitaph of all Whores, I'm
    well acquainted with the poore Gentleman her Husband,
    Lord! what fortunes that man has ouerreached? She knowes
    115not me, yet I haue beene in her company, I scarce know her,
    for the beauty of her cheeke hath (like the Moone) suffred
    strange Eclipses since I beheld it: but women are like Med-
    lars (no sooner ripe but rotten.)
    A woman last was made, but is spent first,
    120Yet man is oft proued, in performance worst.
    Omnes. My Lord is come.
    Enter Hypolito, Infaeliche, and two waiting women.
    Hip. We ha wasted halfe this morning: morrow Lodouico.
    Lod. Morrow Madam.
    125Hip. Let's away to Horse.
    Omnes. I, I to Horse, to Horse.
    Bela. I doe beseech your Lordship, let your eye read
    o're this wretched Paper.
    The Honest Whore.
    Hip. I'm in hast, pray the good womā take some apter time.
    130Infae. Good Woman doe.
    Bel. Oh las! it does concerne a poore mans life.
    Hip. Life! sweet heart? Seat your selfe, Il'e but read this
    and come.
    Lod. What stockings haue you put on this morning, Ma-
    135dam? if they be not yellow, change them; that paper is a
    Letter from some Wench to your Husband.
    Infae Oh sir, that cannot make me iealous. Exeunt.