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    Not Peer Reviewed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.
    And walke on Fayeries hearts, their beaten waies
    With their owne heades weele paue, whil st ours with bayes,
    And oake (the conquering souldiers wreath) we crowne:
    These hookes, or none, mu st pull their Cities downe,
    2110Inua sion is the fire: See, See, i'th Ayre
    Angels hang beckoning vs to make more ha ste,
    Vengeance deferd growes weake, and runnes to wa ste.
    Whats this?--- Enter a Herrald before one: sounds once, and staies.
    Como. Ere we take ship, we mu st to Court.
    2115 Omn. Away.
    3. King. In thunder: tis the souldiers sport. Exeunt.
    The Herrald reades.
    Herald. It is the Imperiall pleasure, decree, peremptory edict,
    and dreadfull command (vpon paine of a curse to be denounced
    2120vpon him that is disobedient) from her who hath power giuen her
    to make the backes of stubborne Kings her foote- stooles, and Em-
    perours her va s s alles: the mother of Nations; the triple-crowned
    head of the world; the purple-rider of the glorious bea st; the mo st
    high, mo st supreame, and mo st adored Empre s s e of Babilon; that no
    2125Captaine Generals of Armies, Generals of Squadrons, Admirals,
    Colonels, Captaines, or any other Officers of her magnificent, in-
    comparable, formidable, and inuincible Armada, which is orday-
    ned to swallow vp the kingdome of Faiery, shall presume to set one
    foote on ship-bord, till her sacred hand hath ble s s ed the enterprize
    2130by sealing them all on the forhead, and by bowing their knees be-
    fore the Bea st. Sound, goe on. Exeunt.
    Dumb shew: Empre s s e on the Bea st.
    Emp. Feeles the base earth our weight? i st common Aire
    We suck in and respire? doe seruile clowdes,
    2135(Whose azure winges spread ouer graues and tombes)
    Our glorious body circumvolue? dare night
    Ca st her black nets into dayes cri stall streames,
    To draw vp darkne s s e on our golden beames:
    And vs t'ecclipse, why is not Babilon
    2140In a contorted chaire made all of starres,
    Wound vp by wheeles as high, nay boue the thrones
    Supernall, which with Ioues owne seate stand euen,