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  • 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    Not Peer Reviewed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 Duke, Carolo, Astolfo, Beraldo, Fontinell, three
    or foure Masters of Bridewell: Infaelice.
    2430Duke. Your Bridewell? that the name? for beauty, strength,
    Capacity and forme of ancient building,
    (Besides the Riuers neighbourhood) few houses
    Wherein we keepe our Court can better it.
    1. Master. Hither from forraigne Courts haue Princes come,
    2435And with our Duke did Acts of State Commence,
    Here that great Cardinall had first audience,
    (The graue Campayne,) that Duke dead, his Sonne
    (That famous Prince) gaue free possession
    Of this his Palace, to the Cittizens,
    2440To be the poore mans ware-house: and endowed it
    With Lands to'th valew of seuen hundred marke,
    With all the bedding and the furniture, once proper
    (As the Lands then were) to an Hospitall
    Belonging to a Duke of Sauoy. Thus
    2445Fortune can tosse the World, a Princes Court
    Is thus a prison now.
    Duke. 'Tis Fortunes sport:
    These changes common are: the Wheele of Fate
    Turnes Kingdomes vp, till they fall desolate.
    2450But how are these seuen hundred Markes by'th yeere
    Imployde in this your Worke-house?
    1. Master. Warre and Peace
    Feed both vpon those Lands: when the Iron doores
    Of warres burst open, from this House are sent
    2455Men furnisht in all Martiall Complement.
    The Moone hath thorow her Bow scarce drawn to'th head,
    (Like to twelue siluer Arrowes) all the Moneths,
    Since
    The Honest Whore.
    Since 1600. Soldiers went aboord:
    Here Prouidence and Charity play such parts,
    2460The House is like a very Schoole of Arts,
    For when our Soldiers (like Ships driuen from Sea,
    With ribs all broken, and with tatterd sides,)
    Cast anchor here agen, their ragged backes
    How often doe we couer? that (like men)
    2465They may be sent to their owne Homes agen.
    All here are but one swarme of Bees, and striue
    To bring with wearied thighs honey to the Hiue.
    The sturdy Begger, and the lazy Lowne,
    Gets here hard hands, or lac'd Correction.
    2470The Vagabond growes stay'd, and learnes to 'bey,
    The Drone is beaten well, and sent away
    As other prisons are, (some for the Thiefe,
    Some, by which vndone Credit gets reliefe
    From bridled Debtors; others for the poore)
    2475So this is for the Bawd, the Rogue, and Whore.
    Car. An excellent Teeme of Horse.
    1. Master. Nor is it seene,
    That the whip drawes blood here, to coole the Spleene
    2480Of any rugged Bencher: nor does offence
    Feele smart, or spitefull, or rash euidence:
    But pregnant testimony forth must stand,
    Ere Iustice leaue them in the Beadles hand,
    As Iron, on the Anuill are they laid,
    2485Not to take blowes alone, but to be made
    And fashioned to some Charitable vse.
    Duke. Thus wholsom'st Lawes spring from the worst
    abuse.
    Enter Orlando before Bellafront.
    2490Bel. Let mercy touch your heart-strings (gracious Lord)
    That it may sound like musike in the eare
    Of a man desperate, (being i'th hands of Law.)
    Duke. His name?
    Bel. Matheo.
    Duke.
    The Honest Whore.
    2495Duke. For a robbery? where is she? } Exit Bel. & one of the
    Bel. In this House.} Masters of Bridewell.
    Duke. Fetch you him hither---
    Is this the Party?
    Orl. This is the Hen, my Lord, that the Cocke (with the
    2500Lordly combe) your Sonne-in-law would crow ouer, and
    tread.
    Duke. Are your two Seruants ready?
    Orl. My two Pedlers are pack'd together, my good Lord.
    Duke. 'Tis well: this day in Iudgement shall be spent,
    2505Vice (like a wound launc'd) mends by punishment.
    Infae. Let me be gone, my Lord, or stand vnseene;
    'Tis rare when a Iudge strikes, and that none dye,
    And 'tis vnfit then, women should be by.
    1. Master. Wee'll place you, Lady, in some priuat roome.
    2510Infae. Pray doe so. Exit.
    Orl. Thus nice Dames sweare, it is vnfit their eyes
    Sould view men caru'd vp for Anatomies,
    Yet they'll see all, so they may stand vnseene,
    Many women sure will sinne behind a Skreene.
    2515Enter Lodouico.
    Lod. Your Sonne (the Lord Hipollito) is entred.
    Duke. Tell him we wish his presence. A word Storsa:
    On what wings flew he hither?
    Lod. These, I told him-- his Larke whom he loued, was
    2520a Bridewell Bird, he's mad that this Cage should hold her,
    and is come to let her out.
    Duke. 'Tis excellent: away, goe call him hither. Exit. Lod.
    Enter one of the Gouernours of the House, Bellafront after him
    with Matheo, after him the Constable. Enter at another
    2525doore, Lodouico and Hipollito: Orlando steps
    forth and brings in two Pedlers.
    Duke. You are to vs a stranger (worthy Lord)
    'Tis strange to see you here.
    Hip.
    The Honest Whore.
    Hip. It is most fit,
    2530That where the Sunne goes, Attomyes follow it.
    Duke. Attomyes neither shape, nor honour beare:
    Be you yourselfe, a Sunne-beame to shine cleare.
    Is this the Gentleman? Stand forth & heare your accusation.
    Mat. Ile heare none: I flie hie in that: rather then Kites
    2535shall seize vpon me, and picke out mine eyes to my face, Ile
    strike my tallons thorow mine owne heart first, and spit my
    blood in theirs: I am here for shriuing those two fooles of
    their sinfull packe: when those Iack-dawes haue cawde o-
    uer me, then must I cry guilty, or not guilty; the Law has
    2540worke enough already, and therefore Ile put no worke of
    mine into his hands, the Hangman shall ha't first, I did pluck
    those Ganders, did rob them.
    Duke. 'Tis well done to confesse.
    Mat. Confesse and be hanged, and then I flie hie, is't not
    2545so? that for that a gallowes is the worst rub that a good
    Bowler can meet with: I stumbled against such a post, else
    this night I had plaid the part of a true Sonne in these daies,
    vndone my Father-in-law, with him wud I ha run at leape-
    frogge, and come ouer his gold, tho I had broke his necke
    2550for't: but the poore Salmon Trout is now in the Net.
    Hip. And now the Law must teach you to flie hie.
    Mat. Right, my Lord, and then may you flie low; no more
    words, a Mouse, Mum, you are stop'd.
    Bel. Be good to my poore husband, deare my Lords.
    2555Mat. Asse, why shouldst thou pray them to be good to
    me, when no man here is good to one another?
    Duke. Did any hand worke in this theft but yours?
    Mat. O, yes, my Lord, yes:-- the Hangman has neuer
    one Sonne at a birth, his Children alwaies come by couples:
    2560Tho I cannot giue the old dog, my Father, a bone to gnaw,
    the Daughter shall bee sure of a Choke-peare. --Yes, my
    Lord, there was one more that fiddled my fine Pedlers, and
    that was my wife.
    Bel. Alas, I?
    2565Orl. O euerlasting, supernaturall superlatiue Villaine!
    K Omnes.
    The Honest Whore.
    Omnes. Your wife, Matheo?
    Hip. Sure it cannot be.
    Mat. Oh, Sir, you loue no quarters of Mutton that hang
    vp, you loue none but whole Mutton; she set the robbery, I
    2570perform'd it; she spur'd me on, I gallop'd away.
    Orl. My Lords.
    Bel. My Lords, (fellow giue me speach) if my poore life
    may ransome thine, I yeeld it to the Law,
    Thou hurt'st thy soule (yet wipest off no offence)
    2575By casting blots vpon my Innocence:
    Let not these spare me, but tell truth: no, see
    Who slips his necke out of the misery,
    Tho not out of the mischiefe: let thy Seruant
    That shared in this base Act, accuse me here,
    2580Why should my Husband perish, he goe cleare?
    Orl. A god Child, hang thine owne Father.
    Duke. Old fellow, was thy hand in too?
    Orl. My hand was in the Pye, my Lord, I confesse it: my
    Mistris I see, will bring me to the Gallowes, and so leaue me;
    2585but Ile not leaue her so: I had rather hang in a womans com-
    pany, then in a mans; because if weshould go to hell together,
    I should scarce be letten in, for all the Deuils are afraid to
    haue any women come amongst them, as I am true Thiefe,
    she neither consented to this fellony, nor knew of it.
    2590Duke. What fury prompts thee on to kill thy wife?
    Mat. It's my humor, Sir, 'tis a foolish Bag-pipe that I
    make my selfe merry with: why should I eate hempe-seed
    at the Hangmans thirteene-pence halfe-penny Ordinary,
    and haue this whore laugh at me as I swing, as I totter?
    2595Duke. Is she a Whore?
    Mat. A sixe-penny Mutton Pasty, for any to cut vp.
    Orl. Ah, Toad, Toad, Toad.
    Mat. A Barbers Citterne for euery Seruingman to play
    vpon, that Lord, your Sonne, knowes it.
    2600Hip. I, sir, am I her Bawd then?
    Mat. No, sir, but she's your Whore then,
    Orl. Yea Spider, doest catch at great Flies?
    Hip.
    The Honest Whore.
    Hip. My Whore?
    Mat. I cannot talke, sir, and tell of your Rems, and your
    2605rees, and your whirligigs, and deuices: but, my Lord, I
    found em like Sparrowes in one nest, billing together, and
    bulling of me, I tooke em in bed, was ready to kill him was
    vp to stab her---
    Hip. Cloze thy ranke Iawes: pardon me, I am vexed,
    2610Thou art a Villaine, a malicious Deuill,
    Deepe as the place where thou art lost, thou lyest,
    Since I am thus far got into this storme,
    Ile thorow, and thou shalt see Ile thorow vntoucht.
    When thou shalt perish in it.
    2615Enter Infaelice.
    Infae. 'Tis my cue
    To enter now: roome, let my Prize be plaid,
    I ha lurk'd in Cloudes, yet heard what all haue said,
    What Iury more can proue, she has wrong'd my bed,
    2620Then her owne husband, she must be punished;
    I challenge Law, my Lord, Letters, and Gold, and Iewels
    From my Lord that woman tooke.
    Hip. Against that blacke-mouthed Deuill, against Letters,
    and Gold,
    2625And against a iealous Wife I doe vphold,
    Thus farre her reputation, I could sooner
    Shake the Appenine, and crumble Rockes to dust,
    Then (tho Ioues showre rayned downe) tempt her to lust.
    Bel. What shall I say?
    2630Hee discouers himselfe.
    Orl. Say thou art not a Whore, and that's more then
    fifteene women (amongst fiue hundred) dare sweare with-
    out lying: this shalt thou say, no let mee say't for thee; thy
    Husband's a Knaue, this Lord's an honest Man; thou art no
    2635Puncke, this Lady's a right Lady. Pacheco is a Thiefe as his
    Master is, but old Orlando is as true a man as thy Father is:
    I ha seene you flie hie, sir, & I ha seene you flie low, sir, and to
    keepe you from the Gallowes, sir, a blue Coat haue I worne,
    and a Thiefe did I turne, mine owne men are the Pedlers, my
    K 2 twenty
    The Honest Whore.
    2640twenty pound did flie hie, sir, your wiues Gowne did flie
    low, sir: whither flie you now, sir? you ha scap'd the Gal-
    lowes, to the Deuill you flie next, sir. Am I right, my Liege?
    Duke. Your Father has the true Phisicion plaid.
    Mat. And I am now his Patient.
    2645Hip. And be so still, 'tis a good signe when our cheekes
    blush at ill.
    Const. The Linnen Draper (Signior Candido)
    He whom the Citty tearmes the Patient man,
    Is likewise here for buying of those Lawnes
    2650The Pedlers lost.
    Infae. Alas good Candido. Exit. Constable.
    Duke. Fetch him: and when these payments vp are cast,
    Weigh out your light Gold, but let's haue them last.
    Enter Candido, and Constable.
    2655Duke. In Bridewell, Candido?
    Cand. Yes, my good Lord.
    Duke. What make you here?
    Cand. My Lord, what make you here?
    Duke. I'm here to saue right, and to driue wrong hence.
    2660Cand. And I to beare wrong here with patience.
    Duke. You ha bought stolne Goods.
    Cand. So they doe say, my Lord,
    Yet bought I them vpon a Gentlemans word,
    And I magine now, as I thought then,
    2665That there be Theeues, but no Theeues Gentlemen.
    Hip. Your Credit's crack'd being here.
    Cand. No more then Gold
    Being crack'd which does his estimation hold.
    I was in Bedlam once, but was I mad?
    2670They made me pledge Whores healths, but am I bad,
    Because I'm with bad people?
    Duke. Well, stand by,
    If you take wrong, wee'll cure the iniurry.
    Enter
    The Honest Whore.
    Enter Constable, after them Bots, after him two Beadles, one
    2675with Hempe, the other with a Beetle.
    Duke. Stay, stay, what's he? a prisoner?
    Const. Yes, my Lord.
    Hip. He seemes a Soldier?
    Bots. I am what I seeme, Sir, one of Fortunes Bastards, a
    2680Soldier, and a Gentleman, and am brought in here with
    Master Constables band of Bilmen, because they face mee
    downe that I liue (like those that keepe Bowling-alleyes)
    by the sinnes of the people, in being a Squire of the body.
    Hip. Oh, an Apple-squire.
    2685Bots. Yes, sir, that degree of scuruy Squiers, and that I am
    maintained by the best part that is commonly in a woman,
    by the worst players of those parts, but I am knowne to all
    this company.
    Lod. My Lord, 'tis true, we all know him, 'tis Lieutenant
    2690Bots.
    Duke. Bots, and where ha you serued, Bots?
    Bots. In most of your hottest Seruices in the Low-coun-
    tries: at the Groyne I was wounded in this thigh, and halted
    vpon't, but 'tis now sound. In Cleueland I mist but little,
    2695hauing the bridge of my nose broken downe with two
    great stones, as I was scaling a Fort: I ha beene tryed, Sir,
    too, in Gelderland, and scap'd hardly there from being blown
    vp at a Breach: I was fired, and lay i'th Surgeons hands
    for't, till the fall of the leafe following.
    2700Hip. All this may be, and yet you no Soldier.
    Bots. No Soldier, sir? I hope these are Seruices that your
    proudest Commanders doe venture vpon, and neuer come
    off sometimes.
    Duke. Well, sir, because you say you are a Soldier,
    2705Ile vse you like a Gentleman: make roome there,
    Plant him amongst you, we shall haue anon
    Strange Hawkes flie here before vs: if none light on you,
    You shall with freedome take your flight:
    K 3 But
    The Honest Whore.
    But if you proue a Bird of baser wing,
    2710Wee'll vse you like such Birds, here you shall sing.
    Bots. I wish to be tried at no other weapon.
    Duke. Why, is he furnisht with those in plyments?
    1. Master. The Pander is more dangerous to a State,
    Then is the common Thiefe, and tho our lawes
    2715Lie heauier on the Thiefe, yet that the Pander
    May know the Hangmans ruffe should fit him too,
    Therefore he's set to beat Hempe.
    Duke. This does sauour
    Of Iustice, basest Slaues to basest labour.
    2720Now pray, set open Hell, and let vs see
    The Shee-Deuils that are here.
    Infa. Me thinkes this place
    Should make euen Lais honest.
    1. Master. Some it turnes good,
    2725But (as some men whose hands are once in blood,
    Doe in a pride spill more) so, some going hence,
    Are (by being here) lost in more impudence:
    Let it not to them (when they come) appeare,
    That any one does as their Iudge sit here:
    2730But that as Gentlemen you come to see,
    And then perhaps their tongues will walke more free.
    Duke. Let them be marshall'd in: be couerd all,
    Fellowes, now to make the Sceane more Comicall.
    Car. Will not you be smelt out, Bots.
    2735Bots. No, your brauest whores haue the worst noses.
    Enter two of the Masters: a Constable after them, then Dorathea
    Target, braue, after her two Beadles, th'one with a
    wheele, the other with a blue Gowne.
    Lod. Are not you a Bride, forsooth?
    2740Dor. Say yee?
    Car. He wud know if these be not your Bridemen.
    Dor. Vuh, yes, sir: and looke yee, doe you see the Bride-
    laces that I giue at my wedding, will serue to tye Rosemary
    to
    The Honest Whore.
    to both your Coffins when you come from hanging-Scab?
    2745Orl. Fie, Puncke, fie, fie, fie.
    Dor. Out you stale stinking head of Garlicke, foh, at my
    heeles.
    Orl. My head's clouen.
    Hip. O, let the Gentlewoman alone, she's going to shrift.
    2750Ast. Nay to doe penance.
    Car. I, I, goe Puncke, goe to the Crosse and be whipt.
    Dor. Mary mew, mary muffe, mary hang you goodman
    Dog: whipt? doe yee take me for a base Spittle whore? in
    troth Gentlemen, you weare the cloathes of Gentlemen, but
    2755you carry not the mindes of Gentlemen, to abuse a Gentle-
    woman of my fashion.
    Lod. Fashion? pox a your fashions, art not a whore?
    Dor. Goodman Slaue.
    Duke. O fie, abuse her not, let vs two talke,
    2760What mought I call your name, pray?
    Cor. I'm not ashamed of my name, Sir, my name is Mistris
    Doll Target, a Westerne Gentlewoman.
    Lod. Her Target against any Pike in Millan.
    Duke. Why is this wheele borne after her?
    27651. Master. She must spinne.
    Dor. A coorse thred it shall be, as all threds are.
    Ast. If you spin, then you'll earne money here too?
    Dor. I had rather get halfe a Crowne abroad, then ten
    Crownes here.
    2770Orl. Abroad? I thinke so.
    Infae. Doest thou not weepe now thou art here?
    Dor. Say yee? weepe? yes forsooth, as you did when
    you lost your Maidenhead: doe you not heare how I weep?
    Sings.
    2775Lod. Farewell Doll.
    Dor. Farewell Dog. Exit.
    Duke. Past shame: past penitence, why is that blue Gowne?
    1. Master. Being stript out of her wanton loose attire,
    That Garment she puts on, base to the eye,
    2780Onely to cloath her in humility.
    Duke.
    The Honest Whore.
    Duke. Are all the rest like this?
    1. Master. No, my good Lord.
    You see, this Drab swells with a wanton reyne,
    The next that enters has a different straine.
    2785Duke. Variety is good, let's see the rest. Exit Master.
    Bots. Your Grace sees I'm sound yet, & no Bullets hit me.
    Duke. Come off so, and 'tis well.
    Omnes. Here's the second Messe.
    Enter the two Masters, after them the Constable, after him
    2790Penelope Whore-hound, like a Cittizens wife, after her two
    Beadles, one with a blue Gowne, another with
    Chalke and a Mallet.
    Pen. I'ha worne many a costly Gowne, but I was neuer
    thus guarded with blue Coats, and Beadles, and Constables,
    2795and ----
    Car. Alas faire Mistris, spoyle not thus your eyes.
    Pen. Oh sweet sir, I feare the spoyling of other places a-
    bout me that are dearer then my eyes; if you be Gentlemen,
    if you be men, or euer came of a woman, pitty my case, stand
    2800to me, sticke to me, good sir, you are an old man.
    Orl. Hang not on me, I prethee, old Trees beare no such
    fruit.
    Pen. Will you bayle me, Gentlemen?
    Lod. Bayle thee, art in for debt?
    2805Pen. No -- is my Iudge, sir, I am in for no debts, I payd
    my Taylor for this Gowne, the last fiue shillings a weeke
    that was behind, yesterday.
    Duke. What is your name, I pray?
    Pen. Penelope Whore-hound, I come of the Whore-hounds.
    2810How does Lieutenant Bots.
    Omnes. A ha Bots.
    Bots. A very honest woman, as I'm a Soldier, a pox Bots ye.
    Pen. I was neuer in this pickle before, and yet if I goe a-
    mongst Cittizens wiues, they ieere at me: if I goe among
    2815the Loose-bodied Gownes, they cry a pox on me, because I
    goe ciuilly attyred, and sweare their trade was a good
    trade
    The Honest Whore.
    trade, till such as I am tooke it out of their hands: good
    Lieutenant Bots, speake to these Captaines to bayle me.
    1. Master. Begging for bayle still? you are a trim gossip, goe
    2820giue her the blue Gowne, set her to her chare, worke Hus-
    wife, for your bread, away.
    Pen. Out you Dog, a pox on you all, women are borne to
    curse thee, but I shall liue to see twenty such flat-caps sha-
    king Dice for a penny-worth of Pippins: out, you blue-eyed
    2825Rogue. Exit.
    Omnes. Ha, ha, ha.
    Duke. Euen now she wept, and praid, now does she curse?
    1. Master. Seeing me: if still she had staid, this had beene
    worse.
    2830Hip. Was she euer here before?
    1. Master. Fiue times at least,
    And thus if men come to her, haue her eyes wrung, and
    wept out her bayle.
    Omnes. Bots, you know her?
    2835Bots. Is there any Gentleman here, that knowes not a
    Whore, and is he a haire the worse for that?
    Duke. Is she a Citty-dame, she's so attyred?
    1. Master. No, my good Lord, that's onely but the vaile
    To her loose body, I haue seene her here
    2840In gayer Masking Suits, as seuerall Sawces
    Giue one Dish seuerall Tastes, so change of Habits
    In Whores is a bewitching Art: to day she's all in
    Colours to besot Gallants, then in modest blacke,
    To catch the Cittizen, and this from their Examinations
    2845Drawne, now shall you see a Monster both in shape
    And nature quite from these, that sheds no teare,
    Nor yet is nice, 'tis a plaine ramping Beare,
    Many such Whales are cast vpon this Shore.
    Omnes. Let's see her.
    28501. Master. Then behold a swaggering Whore. Exit.
    Orl. Keep your grownd, Bots.
    Bots. I doe but trauerse to spy aduantage how to arme
    my selfe.
    L Enter
    The Honest Whore.
    Enter the two Masters first, after them the Constable, after them a
    2855Beadle beating a Bason, then Catyryna Bountinall, with
    Mistris Horsleach, after them another Beadle with a
    blue head guarded with yellow.
    Cat. Sirra, when I cry hold your hands, hold, you Rogue-
    Catcher, hold: Bawd, are the French Chilblaines in your
    2860heeles, that you can come no faster? are not you (Bawd) a
    Whores Ancient, and must not I follow my Colours?
    Hors. O Mistris Katherine, you doe me wrong to accuse
    mee here as you doe, before the right Worshipfull: I am
    knowne for a motherly honest woman, and no Bawd.
    2865Cat. Mary foh, honest? burnt at fourteene, seuen times
    whipt, sixe times carted, nine times duck'd, search'd by
    some hundred and fifty Constables, and yet you are honest?
    Honest Mistris Horsleach, is this World, a World to keepe
    Bawds and Whores honest? How many times hast thou
    2870giuen Gentlemen a quart of wine in a gallon pot? how ma-
    ny twelue-penny Fees, nay two shillings Fees, nay, when
    any Embassadours ha beene here, how many halfe crowne
    Fees hast thou taken? how many Carriers hast thou bribed
    for Country Wenches? how often haue I rinst your lungs
    2875in Aquauitae, and yet you are honest?
    Duke. And what were you the whilest?
    Cat. Mary hang you, Master Slaue, who made you an
    examiner?
    Lod. Well said, belike this Deuill spares no man.
    2880Cat. What art thou prethee?
    Bots. Nay what art thou prethee?
    Cat. A Whore, art thou a Thiefe?
    Bots. A Thiefe, no, I defie the calling, I am a Soldier,
    haue borne Armes in the Field, beene in many a hot Skyr-
    2885mish, yet come off sound.
    Cat. Sound with a pox to yee, yee abominable Rogue!
    you a Soldier? you in Skirmishes? where? amongst pottle
    pots in a Bawdy-house? Looke, looke here, you Madam
    Worm-
    The Honest Whore.
    Wormeaten, doe not you know him?
    2890Hors. Lieutenant Bots, where haue yee beene this many a
    day?
    Bots. Old Bawd, doe not discredit me, seeme not to
    know me.
    Hors. Not to know yee, Master Bots? as long as I haue
    2895breath, I cannot forget thy sweet face.
    Duke. Why, doe you know him? he saies he is a Sol-
    dier.
    Cat. He a Soldier? a Pander, a Dog that will licke vp sixe
    pence: doe yee heare, you Master Swines snout, how long is't
    2900since you held the doore for me, and cried too't agen, no
    body comes, yee Rogue you?
    Omnes. Ha, ha, ha, y'are smelt out agen, Bots.
    Bots. Pox ruyne her nose for't, and I be not reuenged for
    this --vm yee Bitch.
    2905Lod. Dee yee heare yee Madam? why does your Ladiship
    swagger thus? y'are very braue, me thinkes.
    Cat. Not at your cost, Master Cods-head,
    Is any man here bleare-eyed to see me braue?
    Ast. Yes, I am,
    2910Because good Cloathes vpon a Whores backe
    Is like faire painting vpon a rotten wall.
    Cat. Mary muffe Master Whoremaster, you come vpon
    me with sentences.
    Ber. By this light has small sence for't.
    2915Lod. O fie, fie, doe not vex her.
    And yet me thinkes a creature of more scuruy conditions
    Should not know what a good Petticoate were.
    Cat. Mary come out,
    Y'are so busie about my Petticoate, you'll creepe vp to my
    2920placket, and yee cood but attaine the honour, but and the
    outsides offend your Rogueships, looke o'the lining, 'tis
    Silke.
    Duke. Is't Silke 'tis lined with then?
    Cat. Silke? I Silke, Master Slaue, you wud bee glad to
    2925wipe your nose with the skirt on't: this 'tis to come a-
    L 2 mong
    The Honest Whore.
    mong a company of Cods-heads that know not how to vse
    a Gentlewoman.
    Duke. Tell her the Duke is here.
    1. Master. Be modest, Kata, the Duke is here.
    2930Cat. If the Deuill were here, I care not: set forward, yee
    Rogues, and giue attendance according to your places, let
    Bawds and Whores be sad, for Ile sing and the Deuill were
    a dying. Exeunt.
    Duke. Why before her does the Bason ring?
    29351. Master. It is an emblem of their reuelling,
    The whips we vse lets forth their wanton blood,
    Making them calme, and more to calme their pride,
    In stead of Coaches they in Carts doe ride.
    Will your Grace see more of this bad Ware?
    2940Duke. No, shut vp shop, wee'll now breake vp the faire,
    Yet ere we part -- you, sir, that take vpon yee
    The name of Soldier, that true name of worth,
    Which, action not vaine boasting best sets forth,
    To let you know how farre a Soldiers name
    2945Stands from your title, and to let you see,
    Soldiers must not be wrong'd where Princes be:
    This bee your sentence.
    Omnes. Defend your selfe, Bots.
    Duke. First, all the priuat sufferance that the house
    2950Inflicts vpon Offenders, you (as the basest)
    Shall vndergoe it double, after which
    You shall bee whipt, sir, round about the Citty,
    Then banisht from the Land.
    Bots. Beseech your Grace.
    2955Duke. Away with him, see it done, Panders and Whores
    Are Citty-plagues, which being kept aliue,
    Nothing that lookes like goodnes ere can thriue.
    Now good Orlando, what say you to your bad Sonne-in-law?
    Orl. Mary this, my Lord, he is my Sonne-in-law, and in
    2960law will I be his Father: for if law can pepper him, he shall
    be so parboild, that he shall stinke no more i'th nose of the
    Common-wealth.
    Bel.
    The Honest Whore.
    Bel. Be yet more kinde and mercifull, good Father.
    Orl. Doest thou beg for him, thou precious mans meat,
    2965thou? has he not beaten thee, kickt thee, trod on thee, and
    doest thou fawne on him like his Spanniell? has hee not
    pawnd thee to thy Petticoate, sold thee to thy smock, made
    yee leape at a crust, yet woodst haue me saue him?
    Bel. Oh yes, good sir, women shall learne of me,
    2970To loue their husbands in greatest misery,
    Then shew him pitty, or you wracke my selfe.
    Orl. Haue yee eaten Pigeons that y'are so kinde-hearted
    to your Mate? Nay, y'are a couple of wilde Beares, Ile
    haue yee both baited at one stake: but as for this Knaue, the
    2975Gallowes is thy due, and the Gallowes thou shalt haue, Ile
    haue iustice of the Duke, the Law shall haue thy life, what,
    doest thou hold him? let goe his hand: if thou doest not for-
    sake him, a Fathers euerlasting blessing fall vpon both your
    heads: away, goe, kisse out of my sight, play thou the
    2980Whore no more, nor thou the Thiefe agen, my house shall be thine, my meate shall
    be thine, and so shall my wine, but
    my money shall bee mine, and yet when I die, (so thou doest
    not flie hie) take all, yet good Matheo, mend.
    Thus for ioy weepes Orlando, and doth end.
    2985Duke. Then heare, Matheo: all your woes are stayed
    By your good Father-in-law: all your Ills
    Are cleare purged from you by his working pills.
    Come Signior Candido, these greene yong wits
    (We see by Circumstance) this plot hath laid,
    2990Still to prouoke thy patience, which they finde
    A wall of Brasse, no Armour's like the minde;
    Thou hast taught the Citty patience, now our Court
    Shall be thy Spheare, where from thy good report,
    Rumours this truth vnto the world shal sing,
    2995A Patient man's a Patterne for a King. Exeunt.
    L 3
    FINIS.
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