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    Not Peer Reviewed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.
    Wayters you mu st haue none.
    Pari: Heare me. Coz: Heare me,
    2330You mu st not haue a man, and if you kill
    With powder, ayre betrayes you.
    Pari: Powder! no Sir, my dagge shall be my dagger:
    Good sweete Cozen marke but how smooth
    My pathes are: looke you Sir,
    2335 Cox: I haue thought vpon a course.
    Pari: Nay, nay, heare mine,
    You are my marke, suppose you are my marke,
    My leuell is thus lowe, but er'e I rise,
    My hand's got vp thus hie: the deere, being strucke,
    2340The heard that stand about so frighted are,
    I shall haue leaue to scape, as does a pirate,
    Who hauing made a shot through one more strong,
    All in that ship runne to make good the breach,
    Whil st th'other sailes away. How like you this?
    2345 Cox: As I like paper harne s s e.
    Pari: Ha, well, pawse then:
    This bow shall stand vnbent, and not an arrow
    Be shot at her vntill we take our ayme
    In S. Iagoes parke; a rare, rare Altar!
    2350The fitt' st to sacrifize her bloud vpon:
    It shall be there: in S. Iagoes parke:
    Ha coz! it shall be there: in the meane time,
    We may keepe followers (nine or ten a peece)
    Without suspition: numbers may worke wonders;
    2355The storme being sudden too: for were the guard
    A hundred strong about her, looke you sir,
    All of vs well appoynted---Case of dags
    To each man, see you? you shoote there, we heere,
    Vnle s s e some spirits put the bullets by,
    2360Ther's no escape for her: say the dags faile,
    Then to our swordes.--Come, ther's no mettle in you.
    Cox: No mettle in me? would your warres were hone ste
    I quickly would finde Armour: what's the goade
    So sharpe, that makes you wildely thus to runne