2 The Honest Whore (2 The Converted Courtesan) · chunk 32 of 47
Dekker, Thomas · published 1630 · first performed or written 1605 [1604-c.1605] (Annals) comedy · Prince Henry's Men unassigned nearest T23 Husbands, wives and jealousy · 501 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T23: wife, husband, cuckold, jealousy, woman, jealous, mistress, love, house, honest.
So should a husband be dishonoured. Dishonoured? not a whit: to fall to one (Besides your husband) is to fall to none, For one no number is. Faith, should you take One in your bed, would you that reckoning make? 'Tis time you sound retreat. Say, have I won, Is the day ours? The battle's but half done, None but yourself have yet sounded alarms, Let us strike too, else you dishonour arms. If you can win the day, The glory's yours. To prove a woman should not be a whore, When she was made, she had one man, and no more, Yet she was tied to laws then, for (oven then) 'Tis said, she was not made for men, but man. Anon, t'increase earth's brood, the law was varied, Men should take many wives: and though they married According to that Act, yet 'tis not known, But that those wives were only tied to one. New Parliaments were since: for now one woman Is shared between three hundred, nay she's common; Common? as spotted Leopards, whom for sport Men hunt, to get the flesh, but care not for't. So spread they Nets of gold, and tune their Calls, To enchant silly women to take falls: Swearing they are Angels, (which that they may win) They'll hire the Devil to come with false Dice in. Oh Sirens subtle tunes! yourselves you flatter, And our weak sex betray, so men love water; It serves to wash their hands, but (being once foul) The water down is poured, cast out of doors, And even of such base use do men make whores. A Harlot (like a Hen) more sweetness reaps, To pick men one by one up, then in heaps: Yet all feeds but confounding. Say you should taste me, I serve but for the time, and when the day Of war is done, am cashiered out of pay: If like lame Soldiers I could beg, that's all, And there's lust's rendezvous, an Hospital. Who then would be a man's slave, a man's woman? She's half starved the first day that feeds in Common. You should not feed so, but with me alone. If I drink poison by stealth, is't not all one? Is't not rank poison still? with you alone! Nay say you spied a Courtesan, whose soft side To touch, you'd sell your birthright for one kiss, Be racked, she's won, y'are sated: what follows this? Oh, than you curse that Bawd that towed you in, (The Night) you curse your lust, you loathe the sin, You loathe her very sight, and ere the day Arise, you rise glad when y'are stolen away. even then when you are drunk with all her sweets, There's no true pleasure in a strumpet's sheets. Women, whom Lust so prostitutes to sale, Like Dancers upon ropes; once seen, are stale. If all the threads of harlot's lives are span, So course as you would make them, tell me why You so long loved the trade?
seed 43: unassigned · seed 44: unassigned — topic numbers are assigned independently in each run; equal or different numbers say nothing by themselves
Original spelling (EEBO-TCP, unregularized)
So should a husband be dishonoured. Dishonoured? not a whit: to fall to one (Besides your husband) is to fall to none, For one no number is. Faith, should you take One in your bed, would you that reckoning make? 'Tis time you sound retreate. Say, haue I wonne, Is the day ours? The battaile's but halfe done, None but your selfe haue yet sounded alarmes, Let vs strike too, else you dishonour armes. If you can win the day, The glorie's yours. To proue a woman should not be a whore, When she was made, she had one man, and no more, Yet she was tied to lawes then, for (ouen than) 'Tis said, she was not made for men, but man. Anon, t'increase earths brood, the law was varied, Men should take many wiues: and tho they married According to that Act, yet 'tis not knowne, But that those wiues were onely tied to one. New Parliaments were since: for now one woman Is shared betweene three hundred, nay she's common; Common? as spotted Leopards, whom for sport Men hunt, to get the flesh, but care not for't. So spread they Nets of gold, and tune their Calls, To inchaunt silly women to take falls: Swearing they are Angels, (which that they may win) They'll hire the Deuill to come with false Dice in. Oh Sirens suttle tunes! your selues you flatter, And our weake sex betray, so men loue water; It serues to wash their hands, but (being once foule) The water downe is powred, cast out of doores, And euen of such base vse doe men make whores. A Harlot (like a Hen) more sweetnes reapes, To picke men one by one vp, then in heapes: Yet all feeds but confounding. Say you should taste me, I serue but for the time, and when the day Of warre is done, am casheerd out of pay: If like lame Soldiers I could beg, that's all, And there's lusts Rendez-vous, an Hospitall. Who then would be a mans slaue, a mans woman? She's halfe starn'd the first day that feeds in Common. You should not feed so, but with me alone. If I drinke poison by stealth, is't not all one? Is't not ranke poison still? with you alone! Nay say you spide a Curtezan, whose soft side To touch, you'd sell your birth-right for one kisse, Be rack'd, she's won, y'are sated: what followes this? Oh, then you curse that Bawd that toald you in, (The Night) you curse your lust, you loath the sin, You loath her very sight, and ere the day Arise, you rise glad when y'are stolne away. Euen then when you are drunke with all her sweets, There's no true pleasure in a Strumpets sheetes. Women, whom Lust so prostitutes to sale, Like Dancers vpon ropes; once seene, are stale. If all the threds of Harlots lyues are span, So coorse as you would make them, tell me why You so long loued the trade?