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The second part of the honest whore, with the hvmors of the Patient Man, the Impatient Wife

the Honest Whore, perswaded by strong Arguments to turne Curtizan againe : her braue refuting those Arguments. And lastly, the Comicall Passages of an Italian Bridewell, where the Scaene ends
  

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Enter Bellafront and Matheo.
Bell.

Oh my sweet Husband, wert thou in thy graue, and
art aliue agen? O welcome, welcome.


Mat.

Doest know me? my cloake prethee lay't vp. Yes
faith, my winding sheete was taken out of Lauender, to be
stucke with Rosemary, I lackt but the knot here, or here;
yet if I had had it, I should ha made a wry mouth at the
world like a Playse: but sweetest villaine, I am here now, and
I will talke with thee soone.


Bel.

And glad am I th'art here.


Mat.

Did these heeles caper in shackles? A my little
plumpe rogue, Ile beare vp for all this, and flye hye. Catzo
Catzo.


Bel.

Matheo?


Mat.

What sayest, what sayest? Oh braue fresh ayre, a pox
on these Grates and gingling of Keyes, and rattling of Iron.
Ile beare vp, Ile flye hye wench, hang Tosse.


Bel.
Matheo, prethee make thy prison thy glasse,
And in it view the wrinkles, and the scarres,
By which thou wert disfigured, viewing them, mend them.

Mat.

Ile goe visit all the mad rogues now, and the good
roaring boyes.


Bel.

Thou doest not heare me?


Mat.

Yes faith doe I.


Bel.

Thou hast beene in the hands of misery, and tane strong
Physicke, prethee now be sound.


Mat.

Yes. S'foot, I wonder how the inside of a Tauerne
lookes now. Oh when shall bizle, bizle?


Bel.

Nay see, th'art thirsty still for poyson, come, I will
not haue thee swagger.


Mat.
Honest Apes face.

Bel.
'Tis that sharpned an axe to cut thy throate.
Good Loue, I would not haue thee sell thy substance
And time (worth all) in those damned shops of Hell;
Those Dycing houses, that stand neuer well,


But when they stand most ill, that foure-squared sinne
Has almost lodg'd vs in the beggers Inne.
Besides (to speake which euen my soule does grieue)
A sort of Rauens haue hung vpon thy sleeue,
And fed vpon thee: good Mat. (if you please) so base as
Scorne to spread wing amongst these;
By them thy fame is speckled, yet it showes
Cleare amongst them; so Crowes are faire with Crowes.
Custome in sinne, giues sinne a louely dye.
Blacknesse in Mores is no deformity.

Mat.

Bellafront, Bellafront, I protest to thee, I sweare, as I
hope my soule, I will turne ouer a new leafe, the prison I
confesse has bit me, the best man that sayles in such a Ship,
may be lowsy.


Bel.

One knockes at doore.


Mat.

Ile be the Porter: they shall see, a Iayle cannot hold
a braue spirit, Ile flye hye.


Exit.
Bel.
How wilde is his behauiour! oh, I feare
He's spoyld by prison, he's halfe damned comes there,
But I must sit all stormes: when a full sayle his
Fortunes spred, he loued me: being now poore,
Ile beg for him, and no wife can doe more.