The chariot of your sway in a just pace,
That all (to come hereafter) may with pride
Say, None like you did noblier quit the place;
Lower than now you are in fame, never fall;
Note me (the Sunne) who in my noone careere
Benders a shadow, short, or none at all;
And so, since Honor’s zodiac is your sphere,
A shrub to you must be the tallest pine;
On poor and rich you equally must shine.
This if you doe, my armes shall ever spread
About those roomes you feast in; from her head
Flora her garlands pluck (being queene of flowers),
To dress your parlors up like summer’s bowers.
Ceres lay golden sheaffes on your full boord;
With fruit, you from Pomona shall be stoard;
Whilst Ver and Estas (Spring and Summer), drive,
From this your Tempe, Winter, till he dive
I’ th’ frozen zone, and Tytan’s radiant shield
Guard Campbel’s Beauchampe, London’s fairest field.
THE SIXTH AND LAST PRESENTATION.
THIS IS CALLED Apollo’s pallace, because seven persons representing the seven liberal sciences are richly inthroned in this city. Those seven are in loose roabes of several cullors, with mantles according, and holding in their hands escutcheons, with emblems in them proper to every one quality.
The body of this worke is supported by twelve silver columnes; at the four angles of it, four pendants play with the wind; on the top is erected a square tower supported by four golden columnes, in every square is presented the embos’d antique head of an emperour, figuring the four monarches of the world, and in them pointing at foure kingdomes.
Apollo is the chiefe person, on his head a garland of bayes, in his hand a lute. Some hypercriticall censurer perhaps will aske, why having Tytan, I should bring in Apollo, sithence they both are names proper to the sunne. But the youngest novice in poetry can answer for me, that the sunne when he shines in heaven is called Tytan, but being on earth (as he is here) we call him Apollo. Thus therefore Apollo tunes his voyce.
APOLLOES SPEECH.
APOLLO NEVER STUCKE in admiration till now, my Delphos is removen hither, my oracles are spoken here; here the sages utter their wisdome, here the sybils their divine verses.
I see senators this day in scarlet riding to the capitoll, and to morrow the same men riding up and downe the field in armours, gowned citizens and warlike gownmen. The gunne here gives place, and the gowne takes the upper hand; the gowne and the gunne march in one file together.
Happy king that has such people, happy land in such a king! happy prætor so graced with honours! happy senators so obeyed by citizens, and happy citizens that can command such triumphes.
Go on in your full glories, whilst Apollo and these mistresses of the learned sciences waft you to that honorable shore whither Time bids you hasten to arrive.
A SPEECH AT NIGHT, AT TAKING LEAVE OF HIS LORDSHIP AT HIS GATE, BY OCEANUS.
AFTER THE GLORIOUS troubles of this day,
Night bids you welcome home; Night, who does lay
All pompe, all triumphs by, state now descends;
Here our officious trayne their service ends,
And yet not all, for see, the golden sunne,
Albeit he has his dayes worke fully done,
Sits up above his houre, and does his best
To keep the starres from lighting you to rest
Him will I take along to lay his head
In Tethys lap, Peace therefore guard your bedde;
In your yeares zodiacke may you fairely move,
Shin’d on by angels, blest with goodness, love.
Thus much his owne work cryes up the workman, (M. Gerard Chrismas) for his invention, that all the pieces were exact, and set forth lively with much cost. And this yeare gives one remarkable note to after times, that all the barges followed one another (every company in their degree,) in a stately and maiesticall order; this being the invention of a noble citizen, one of the captaines of the city.
FINIS.
The Honest Whore, Part II (1630)
The Honest Whore, Part II was first entered into the Stationers’ Register on 29 April 1608. However, the play was not published until 1630, when bookseller Nathaniel Butter commissioned Elizabeth Allde to print it for him. Butter was a prominent and successful seventeenth century publisher and bookseller, who is primarily known for publishing the first edition of Shakespeare’s King Lear in 1608. He was also involved in the development and publication of the fore-runner to the modern newspaper. In the early to mid-1620’s he started to publish a news periodical called Weekly News; it was one of the first examples in England of a regularly released news journal and it would inspire a series of similar publications, most of which did not achieve the status or longevity of Weekly News. Despite Butter’s success as a bookseller and publisher and his innovation in news reporting, he faded from public view after the early 1640’s and died in poverty in 1664.
The Honest Whore, Part I was a collaboration between Dekker and fellow playwright, Thomas Middleton. The play was entered into the Stationers’ Register on 9 November 1604 and the first edition in quarto was printed by Valentine Simmes for the bookseller, John Hodge’s in the December of that year. It was also first performed in 1604 at the Fortune Theatre by the Prince Henry’s Men, formally known as the Admiral’s Men. The majority of Part I was written by Dekker and Part II is solely his work. In Part I of the city comedy, two star-crossed lovers, Hippolito and Infelice, must overcome great obstacles to be together, while the eponymous ‘Honest Whore’, Bellafront, renounces her profession and starts a new life. In The Honest Whore, Part II, Bellafront is struggling in her marriage to Matheo, who is leading a debauched life, while also having to contend with Hippolito’s sudden advances and attempts to seduce her...
The title page of the 1630 quarto
CONTENTS
DRAMATIS PERSONÆ.
ACT THE FIRST.
SCENE I. — A Hall in Hippolito’s House.
SCENE II. — An Apartment in the Duke’s Palace.
SCENE III. — A Room in Candido’s House. Candido, the Bride and Guests discovered at dinner; Prentices waiting on them.
ACT THE SECOND.
SCENE I. — A Room in Matheo’s House.
SCENE II. — Before Candido’s Shop.
ACT THE THIRD.
SCENE I. — An Apartment in Hippolito’s House.
SCENE II. — A Room in Matheo’s House.
SCENE III. — Before Candido’s Shop. Candido and his Bride discovered in the Shop.
ACT THE FOURTH.
SCENE I. — A Room in Matheo’s House.
SCENE II. — An Apartment in the Duke’s Palace.
SCENE III. — A Room in Matheo’s House.
ACT THE FIFTH.
SCENE I. — A Street.
SCENE II. — An Apartment in Bridewell.
THE PROLOGUE AT COURT.
PROLOGUE
DRAMATIS PERSONÆ.
Gasparo Trebazzi, Duke of Milan.
Hippolito, a Count, Husband of Infelice.
Orlando Friscobaldo, Father of Bellafront.
Matheo, Husband of Bellafront.
Candido, a Linen Draper.
Lodovico Sforza.
Beraldo.
Carolo.
Fontinell.
Astolfo.
Antonio Georgio, a poor Scholar.
Bryan, an Irish Footman.
Bots, a Pander.
Masters of Bridewell, Prentices, Servants, &c.
Infelice, Wife of Hippolito.
Bellafront, Wife of Matheo.
Candido’s Bride.
Mistress Horseleech, a Bawd.
Harlots:
Dorothea Target, .
Penelope Whorehound,
Catharina Bountinall,
SCENE — Milan.
ACT THE FIRST.
; SCENE I. — A Hall in Hippolito’s House.
ON ONE SIDE enter Beraldo, Carolo, Fontinell, and Astolfo, with Serving-men, or Pages, attending on them; on the other side enter Lodovico.
Lod. Good day, gallants.
All. Good morrow, sweet Lodovico.
Lod. How dost thou, Carolo?
Car. Faith, as the physicians do in a plague, see the world sick, and am well myself.
Fon. Here’s a sweet morning, gentlemen.
Lod. Oh, a morning to tempt Jove from his ningle, Ganymede; which is but to give dairy-wenches green gowns as they are going a-milking. What, is thy lord stirring yet?
Ast. Yes, he will not be horsed this hour, sure.
Ber. My lady swears he shall, for she longs to be at court.
Car. Oh, we shall ride switch and spur; would we were there once.
Enter Bryan.
Lod. How now, is thy lord ready?
Bry. No, so crees sa’ me, my lady will have some little ting in her pelly first.
Car. Oh, then they’ll to breakfast.
Lod. Footman, does my lord ride i’th’ coach with my lady, or on horseback?
Bry. No, foot, la, my lady will have me lord sheet wid her, my lord will sheet in de one side, and my lady sheet in de toder side. [Exit.
Lod. My lady sheet in de toder side! Did you ever hear a rascal talk so like a pagan? Is’t not strange that a fellow of his star, should be seen here so long in Italy, yet speak so from a Christian?
Enter Antonio, with a book.
Ast. An Irishman in Italy! that so strange! why, the nation have running heads. [They walk up and down.
Lod. Nay, Carolo, this is more strange, I ha’ been in France, there’s few of them. Marry, England they count a warm chimney corner, and there they swarm like crickets to the crevice of a brew-house; but sir, in England I have noted one thing.
Ast., Ber., &c. What’s that, what’s that of England?
Lod. Marry this, sir, — what’s he yonder?
Ber. A poor fellow would speak with my lord.
Lod. In England, sir, — troth, I ever laugh when I think on’t: to see a whole nation should be marked i’th’ forehead, as a man may say, with one iron: why, sir, there all costermongers are Irishmen.
Car. Oh, that’s to show their antiquity, as coming from Eve, who was an apple-wife, and they take after the mother.
Ast., Ber., &c. Good, good! ha, ha!
Lod. Why, then, should all your chimney-sweepers likewise be Irishmen? answer that now; come, your wit.
Car. Faith, that’s soon answered, for St. Patrick, you know, keeps purgatory; he makes the fire, and his countrymen could do nothing, if they cannot sweep the chimneys.
Ast., Ber., &c. Good again.
Lod. Then, sir, have you many of them, like this fellow, especially those of his hair, footmen to noblemen and others, and the knaves are very faithful where they love. By my faith, very proper men many of them, and as active as the clouds, — whirr, hah!
Ast., Ber., &c. Are they so?
Lod. And stout! exceeding stout; why, I warrant, this precious wild villain, if he were put to’t, would fight more desperately than sixteen Dunkirks.
Ast. The women, they say, are very fair.
Lod. No, no, our country buona-robas, oh! are the sugarest, delicious rogues!
Ast. Oh, look, he has a feeling of them!
Lod. Not I, I protest. There’s a saying when they commend nations. It goes, the Irishman for his hand, the Welshman for a leg, the Englishman for a face, the Dutchman for a beard.
Fon. I’faith, they may make swabbers of them.
Lod. The Spaniard, — let me see, — for a little foot, I take it; the Frenchman, — what a pox hath he? and so of the rest. Are they at breakfast yet? come walk.
Ast. This Lodovico is a notable tongued fellow.
Fon. Discourses well.
Ber. And a very honest gentleman.
Ast. Oh! he’s well valued by my lord.
Enter Bellafront, with a petition.
Fon. How now, how now, what’s she?
Ber. Let’s make towards her.
Bell. Will it be long, sir, ere my lord come forth?
Ast. Would you speak with my lord?
Lod. How now, what’s this, a nurse’s bill? hath any here got thee with child and now will not keep it?
Bell. No, sir, my business is unto my lord.
Lod. He’s about his own wife’s now, he’ll hardly dispatch two causes in a morning.
Ast. No matter what he says, fair lady; he’s a knight, there’s no hold to be taken at his words.
Fon. My lord will pass this way presently.
Ber. A pretty, plump rogue.
Ast. A good lusty, bouncing baggage.
Ber. Do you know her?
Lod. A pox on her, I was sure her name was in my table-book once; I know not of what cut her die is now, but she has been more common than tobacco: this is she that had the name of the Honest Whore.
Ast., Ber., &c. Is this she?
Lod. This is the blackamoor that by washing was turned white: this is the birding-piece new scoured: this is she that, if any of her religion can be saved, was saved by my lord Hippolito.
Ast. She has been a goodly creature.
Lod. She has been! that’s the epitaph of all whores. I’m well acquainted with the poor gentleman her husband. Lord! what fortunes that man has overreached! She knows not me, yet I have been in her company; I scarce know her, for the beauty of her cheek hath, like the moon, suffered strange eclipses since I beheld it: but women are like medlars, — no sooner ripe but rotten:
A woman last was made, but is spent first.
Yet man is oft proved in performance worst.
Ast., Ber., &c. My lord is come.
Enter Hippolito, Infelice, and two Waiting-women.
Hip. We ha’ wasted half this morning. Morrow, Lodovico.
Lod. Morrow, madam.
Hip. Let’s away to horse.
Lod., Ast., &c. Ay, ay, to horse, to horse.
Bell. I do beseech your lordship, let your eye read o’er this wretched paper.
Hip. I’m in haste, pray thee, good woman, take some apter time.
Inf. Good woman, do.
Bell. Oh ‘las! it does concern a poor man’s life.
Hip. Life! sweetheart? — Seat yourself, I’ll but read this and come.
Lod. What stockings have you put on this morning, madam? if they be not yellow, change them; that paper is a letter from some wench to your husband.
Inf. Oh sir, that cannot make me jealous.
[Exeunt all except Hippolito, Bellafront, and Antonio.
Hip. Your business, sir? to me?
Ant. Yes, my good lord.
Hip. Presently, sir. — Are you Matheo’s wife?
Bell. That most unfortunate woman.
Hip. I’m sorry these storms are fallen on him; I love Matheo,
And any good shall do him; he and I
Have sealed two bonds of friendship, which are strong
In me, however fortune does him wrong.
He speaks here he’s condemned. Is’t so?
Bell. Too true.
Hip. What was he whom he killed? Oh, his name’s here;
Old Giacomo, son to the Florentine;
Giacomo, a dog, that to meet profit,
Would to the very eyelids wade in blood
Of his own children. Tell Matheo,
The duke, my father, hardly shall deny
His signèd pardon; ’twas fair fight, yes,
If rumour’s tongue go true; so writes he here. —
To-morrow morning I return from court,
Pray be you here then. — I’ll have done, sir, straight: — [To Antonio.
But in troth say, are you Matheo’s wife?
You have forgot me.
Bell. No, my lord.
Hip. Your turner,
That made you smooth to run an even bias,
You know I loved you when your very soul
&nb
sp; Was full of discord: art not a good wench still?
Bell. Umph, when I had lost my way to Heaven, you showed it:
I was new born that day.
Re-enter Lodovico.
Lod. ‘Sfoot, my lord, your lady asks if you have not left your wench yet? When you get in once, you never have done. Come, come, come, pay your old score, and send her packing; come.
Hip. Ride softly on before, I’ll o’ertake you.
Lod. Your lady swears she’ll have no riding on before, without ye.
Hip. Prithee, good Lodovico.
Lod. My lord, pray hasten.
Hip. I come. [Exit Lodovico.
To-morrow let me see you, fare you well;
Commend me to Matheo. Pray one word more:
Does not your father live about the court?
Bell. I think he does, but such rude spots of shame
Stick on my cheek, that he scarce knows my name.
Hip. Orlando Friscobaldo, is’t not?
Bell. Yes, my lord.
Hip. What does he for you?
Bell. All he should: when children
From duty start, parents from love may swerve;
He nothing does: for nothing I deserve.
Hip. Shall I join him unto you, and restore you to wonted grace?
Bell. It is impossible.
Hip. It shall be put to trial: fare you well. [Exit Bellafront.
The face I would not look on! Sure then ’twas rare,
When in despite of grief, ’tis still thus fair.
Now, sir, your business with me.
Ant. I am bold
T’express my love and duty to your lordship
In these few leaves.
Hip. A book!
Ant. Yes, my good lord.
Hip. Are you a scholar?
Ant. Yes, my lord, a poor one.
Hip. Sir, you honour me.
Kings may be scholars’ patrons, but, faith, tell me,
To how many hands besides hath this bird flown,
How many partners share with me?
Ant. Not one,
In troth, not one: your name I held more dear;
Complete Dramatic Works of Thomas Dekker Page 70