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    Not Peer Reviewed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)

    Enter Candido, Lodouico like a Prentice.
    Lod. Come, come, come, what doe yee lacke, sir? what
    D 2 doe
    The Honest Whore.
    doe ye lacke, sir? what is't ye lacke, sir? is not my Worship
    well suited? did you euer see a Gentleman better disguised?
    895Cand. Neuer, beleeue me, Signior.
    Lod. Yes: but when he has bin drunke, there be Prenti-
    ces would make mad Gallants, for they would spend all, and
    drinke, and whore, and so forth; and I see we Gallants could
    make mad Prentices. How does thy wife like me? Nay, I
    900must not be so sawcy, then I spoyle all: pray you how does
    my Mistris like me?
    Cand. Well: for she takes you for a very simple fellow.
    Lod. And they that are taken for such, are commonly
    the arrantest knaues: but to our Comedy, come.
    905Cand. I shall not act it, chide you say, and fret,
    And grow impatient: I shall neuer doo't.
    Lod. S'blood, cannot you doe as all the world does?
    Cand. Were I a Painter, that should liue by drawing no-
    910thing but Pictures of an angry man, I should not earne my
    colours; I cannot doo't.
    Lod. Remember y'are a Linnen Draper, and that if you
    giue your wife a yard, she'll take an ell: giue her not there-
    fore a quarter of your yard, not a nayle.
    915Cand. Say I should turne to Ice, and nip her loue now 'tis
    but in the blood.
    Lod. Well, say she's nipt.
    Cand. It will so ouerchange her heart with griefe,
    That like a Cannon, when her sighes goe off,
    920She in her duty either will recoyle,
    Or breake in pieces and so dye: her death,
    By my vnkindnesse might be counted murther.
    Lod. Dye? neuer, neuer; I doe not bid you beat her, nor
    giue her blacke eyes, nor pinch her sides: but crosse her
    925humours. Are not Bakers armes the skales of Iustice? yet
    is not their bread light? and may not you I pray bridle her
    with a sharpe bit, yet ride her gently?
    Cand. Well, I will try your pills, doe you your faithfull
    seruice, and bee ready still at a pinch to helpe me in this
    The Honest Whore.
    930part, or else I shall be out cleane.
    Lod. Come, come, Ile prompt you.
    Cand. Ile call her forth now, shall I?
    Lod. Doe, doe, brauely.
    Cand. Luke, I pray bid your Mistris to come hither.
    935Lod. Luke, I pray bid your Mistris to come hither.
    Cand. Sirra, bid my wife come to me: why, when?
    Luke. Presently, sir, she comes.--- --- within --
    Lod. La you, there's the eccho, she comes. Exit Bride.
    Bride. What is your pleasure with me?
    940Cand. Mary wife,
    I haue intent, and (you see) this stripling here,
    He beares good will and liking to my trade,
    And meanes to deale in Linnen.
    Lod. Yes indeed, sir, I would deale in Linnen, if my Mi-
    945stris like me so well as I like her?
    Cand. I hope to finde him honest, pray good wife looke
    that his bed and chamber be made ready.
    Bride. Y'are best to let him hire mee for his maide?
    I looke to his bed? looke too't your selfe.
    950Cand. Euen so
    I sweare to you a great oath.
    Lod. Sweare, cry Zoundes.
    Cand. I will not, goe to wife, I will not.
    Lod. That your great oath?
    955Cand. Swallow these gudgeons.
    Lod. Well said.
    Cand. Then fast, then you may choose.
    You know at Table
    What trickes you played, swaggerd, broke glasses! Fie,
    960Fie, fie, fie: and now before my Prentice here
    You make an asse of me; thou, (what shall I call thee?)
    Bride. Euen what you will.
    Lod. Call her arrant whore.
    Cand. Oh fie, by no meanes, then she'll call me Cuckold,
    965sirrah, goe looke to'th shop: how does this show?
    Lod. Excellent well, Ile goe looke to the shop, sir. Fine
    D 3 Cam-
    The Honest Whore.
    Cambricks, Lawnes, what doe you lacke. Exit Lodouico.
    Cand. A curst Cowes milke I ha drunke once before,
    And 'twas so ranke in taste, Ile drinke no more.
    970Wife, Ile tame you.
    Bride. You may, sir, if you can,
    But at a wrastling I haue seene a fellow
    Limbd like an Oxe, throwne by a little man.
    Cand. And so you'll throw me. Reach me (Knaues) a yard.
    975Lod. A Yard for my Master.
    1. Prent. My Master is growne valiant.
    Cand. Ile teach you fencing trickes.
    Omnes. Rare, rare; a prize.
    Lod. What will you doe, sir?
    980Can. Mary, my good Prentice, nothing but breathe my wife.
    Bride. Breathe me with your yard?
    Lod. No, he'll but measure you out, forsooth.
    Bride. Since you'll needes fence, handle your weapon well,
    For if you take a yard, Ile take an ell.
    985Reach me an ell.
    Lod. An ell for my Mistris.
    Keep the lawes of the Noble Science, sir, & measure weapons
    with her; your yard is a plaine Heathenish weapon; 'tis too
    short, she may giue you a handfull, & yet you'l not reach her.
    990Cand. Yet I ha the longer arme, come fall too't roundly,
    And spare not me (wife) for Ile lay't on soundly.
    If o're husbands their wiues will needes be Masters,
    We men will haue a law to win't at wasters
    Lod. 'Tis for the breeches, is't not?
    995Cand. For the breeches.
    Bride. Husband I am for you, Ile not strike in iest.
    Cand. Nor I.
    Bride. But will you signe to one request?
    Cand. What's that?
    1000Bride. Let me giue the first blow.
    Cand. The first blow, wife, shall I? Prompt?
    Lod. Let her ha'te.
    If she strike hard, in to her, and breake her pate.
    The Honest Whore.
    Cand. A bargaine. Strike.
    1005Bride. Then guard you from this blow,
    For I play all at legges, but 'tis thus low.She kneeles.
    Behold, I am such a cunning Fencer growne,
    I keepe my ground, yet downe I will be throwne
    With the least blow you giue me, I disdaine
    1010The wife that is her husbands Soueraigne.
    She that vpon your pillow first did rest,
    They say, the breeches wore, which I detest.
    The taxe which she imposed vpon you, I abate you,
    If me you make your Master, I shall hate you.
    1015The world shall iudge who offers fairest play;
    You win the breeches, but I win the day.
    Cand. Thou winst the day indeed, giue me thy hand,
    Ile challenge thee no more: my patient brest
    Plaid thus the Rebell, onely for a iest:
    1020Here's the rancke rider that breakes Colts, 'tis he
    Can tame the mad folkes, and curst wiues.
    Bride. Who, your man?
    Cand. My man? my Master, tho his head be bare,
    But he's so courteous, he'll put off his haire.
    1025Lod. Nay, if your seruice be so hot, a man cannot keepe
    his haire on, Ile serue you no longer.
    Bride. Is this your Schoolemaster?
    Lod. Yes faith, wench, I taught him to take thee downe:
    I hope thou canst take him downe without teaching; you
    1030ha got the conquest, and you both are friends.
    Cand. Beare witnes else.
    Lod. My Prentiship then ends.
    Cand. For the good seruice you to me haue done,
    I giue you all your yeeres.
    1035Lod. I thanke you Master.
    Ile kisse my Mistris now, that she may say,
    My man was bound, and free all in one day.Exeunt.