2 The Honest Whore (2 The Converted Courtesan) · chunk 33 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 · 518 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T23: wife, husband, cuckold, jealousy, woman, jealous, mistress, love, house, honest.
If all the threads Of harlot's lives be fine as you would make them, Why do not you persuade your wife turn whore, And all Dames else to fall before that sin? Like an ill husband (who I knew the same, To be my undoing) followed I that game. Oh when the work of Lust had earned my bread, To taste it, how I trembled, lest each bit, Ere it went down, should choke me (chewing it?) My bed seemed like a Cabin hung in Hell, The Bawd hell's Porter, and the liquorish wine The Pander fetched, was like an easy Fine, For which, methought I leased away my soul, And oftentimes (even in my quaffing bowl) Thus said I to myself, I am a whore, And have drunk down thus much confusion more. It is a common rule, and 'tis most true, Two of one trade never love; no more do you. Why are you sharp 'gainst that you once professed? Why dote you on that, which you did once detest? I cannot (seeing she's woven of such bad stuff) Set colours on a Harlot base enough. Nothing did make me, when I loved them best, To loathe them more than this: when in the street A fair young modest Damsel I did meet, She seemed to all a Dove (when I passed by) And I (to all) a Raven: every eye That followed her, wont with a bashful glance At me, each bold and jeering countenance Darted forth scorn: to her (as if she had been Some Tower unvanquished) would they veil, 'Gainst me swollen Rumor hoist every sail. She (crowned with reverend praises) passed by them, I (though with face masked) could not scape the hem, For (as if Heaven had set strange marks on Whores, Because they should be pointing stocks to man) Dressed up in civilest shape a Courtesan. Let her walk Saintlike, noteless, and unknown, Yet she's betrayed by some trick of her own. Were Harlots therefore wise, they'd be sold dear: For men account them good but for one year: And then like Almanacs (whose dates are gone) They are thrown by, and no more looked upon. who'll therefore backward fall, who will launch forth In Seas so foul, for ventures no more worth? lust's voyage hath (if not this course) this cross, Buy ne'er so cheap, your Ware comes home with loss. What, shall I sound retreat? the battle's done: Let the world judge which of us two have won. I! You? nay then as cowards do in fight, What by blows cannot, shall be saved by flight. Fly to earth's fixed Centre: to the Caves Of everlasting horror, I'll pursue thee, (Though loaden with sins) even to hell's brazen doors. Thus wisest men turn fools, doting on whores. I beseech your Grace (though your eye be so piercing) as under a poor blue Coat, to cull out an honest Father from an old Servingman: yet good my Lord discover not the plot to any, but only this Gentleman that is now to be an Actor in our ensuing Comedy.
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)
If all the threds Of Harlots lyues be fine as you would make them, Why doe not you perswade your wife turne whore, And all Dames else to fall befere that sin? Like an ill husband (ho I knew the same, To be my vndoing) followed I that game. Oh when the worke of Lust had earn'd my bread, To taste it, how I trembled, lest each bit, Ere it went downe, should choake me (chewing it?) My bed seem'd like a Cabin hung in Hell, The Bawde Hells Porter, and the lickorish wine The Pander fetch'd, was like an easie Fine, For which, me thought I leas'd away my soule, And oftentimes (euen in my quaffing bowle) Thus said I to my selfe, I am a whore, And haue drunke downe thus much confusion more. It is a common rule, and 'tis most true, Two of one trade neuer loue; no more doe you. Why are you sharpe 'gainst that you once profest? Why doate you on that, which you did once detest? I cannot (seeing she's wouen of such bad stuffe) Set colours on a Harlot base enough. Nothing did make me, when I loued them best, To loath them more then this: when in the street A faire yong modest Damsell I did meet, She seem'd to all a Doue (when I pass'd by) And I (to all) a Rauen: euery eye That followed her, wont with a bash full glance At me, each bold and ieering countenance Darted forth scorne: to her (as if she had bin Some Tower vnvanquished) would they vaile, 'Gainst me swolne Rumor hoisted euery saile. She (crown'd with reuerend praises) passed by them, I (tho with face maskt) could not scape the hem, For (as if Heauen had set strange markes on Whores, Because they should be pointing stocks to man) Drest vp in ciuilest shape a Curtizan. Let her walke Saint-like, notelesse, and vnknowne, Yet she's betraid by some tricke of her owne. Were Harlots therefore wise, they'd be sold deare: For men account them good but for one yeere: And then like Almanackes (whose dates are gone) They are throwne by, and no more lookt vpon. Who'le therefore backward fall, who will lanch forth In Seas so foule, for ventures no more worth? Lusts voiage hath (if not this course) this crosse, Buy ne'r so cheape, your Ware comes home with losse. What, shall I sound retreat? the battaile's done: Let the world iudge which of vs two haue won. I! You? nay then as cowards doe in fight, What by blowes cannot, shall be saued by flight. Flie to earths fixed Center: to the Caues Of euerlasting horror, Ile pursue thee, (Tho loaden with sinnes) euen to Hells brazen doores. Thus wisest men turne fooles, doting on whores. I beseech your Grace (tho your eye be so piercing) as vnder a poore blue Coate, to cull out an honest Father from an old Seruingman: yet good my Lord discouer not the plot to any, but onely this Gentleman that is now to be an Actor in our ensuing Comedy.