Digital Renaissance Editions

About this text

  • Title: The Whore of Babylon (Quarto, 1607)
  • Editors: Frances E. Dolan, Anna Pruitt

  • 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
    Editors: Frances E. Dolan, Anna Pruitt
    Not Peer Reviewed

    The Whore of Babylon (Quarto, 1607)

    The Whore of Babylon.
    [Tyta:] You haue a lucky hand since you were ours,
    It quickens our ta st well; fill vs of that
    1960You la st did mini ster: a draught, no more,
    And giue it fire, euen Doctor how thou wilt.
    Rop: I made a new extraction, you shall neuer
    Relli sh the like.
    Tyta: Why, shall that be my la st?
    1965 Ro: Oh my deere Mi stres! Exit Ropus. Enter Parthe- (nophill.
    Tyta. Go, go, I dare sware thou lou' st my very heart.
    Parth: This scaly Serpent
    Is throwne (as he deserues) vpon the Sword
    Of Iu stice; and to make these tydings twinnes,
    1970I bring this happy newes, Campeius,
    (A Snake that in my bosome once I warm'd:)
    The man for whome---.
    Tyta: Oh, wee remember him.
    Parth: This Owle, that did not loue your sacred light,
    1975Stole or'e the Seas by darknes, and was held
    In Babilon a bird of noble flight:
    They tourn'd him to a Go shawke, fether'd him
    Arm'd him with tallents, & then gaue him bels,
    And hither charg'd him fly, he did: and soar'd
    1980O're all your goodlye st woods, and thicke st groues,
    Inticing birdes that had the skill in song,
    To learne har sh notes: and those that fail'd in voice,
    He taught to pecke the tender blo s s omes off,
    To spoyle the leauy trees, and with sharpe bils
    1985To mangle all the Golden eares of corne.
    But now hee's tan'e.
    Tyta: Good sheapheards ought not care,
    How many foxes fall into the Snare. Enter Elfyron.
    Elf: Your ciuill Doctor, Doctor Paridell
    1990Ca sts Anchor on your shores againe, being freighted
    With a good venture, which he saies, your selfe
    Mu st onely haue the sight of. Exit.
    Tyta: Bring him hither:
    Lord Florimell, pray call Fideli to vs.