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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 Hipollito and Bellafront.
Orl.
And here's another Vessell, (better fraught,
But as ill man'd) her sinking will be wraught,
If rescue come not: like a Man of warre
Ile therefore brauely out: somewhat Ile doe,
And either saue them both, or perish too.

Exit.
Hip.
It is my fate to be bewitched by those eyes.

Bel.
Fate? your folly.
Why should my face thus mad you? 'las, those colours
Are wound vp long agoe, which beauty spred,
The flowres that once grew here, are withered.
You turn'd my blacke soule white, made it looke new,
And should I sinne, it ne'r should be with you.



Hip.
Your hand, Ile offer you faire play: When first
We met i'th Lists together, you remember
You were a common Rebell; with one parlee
I won you to come in.

Bel.
You did.

Hip.
Ile try
If now I can beate downe this Chastity
With the same Ordnance; will you yeeld this Fort,
If with the power of Argument now (as then)
I get of you the conquest: as before
I turnd you honest, now to turne you whore,
By force of strong perswasion?

Bell.
If you can,
I yeeld.

Hip.
The allarm's strucke vp: I'm your man.

Bel.
A woman giues defiance.

Hip.
Sit.

Bel.
Beginne:
'Tis a braue battaile to encounter sinne.

Hip.
You men that are to fight in the same warre,
To which I'm prest, and pleade at the same barre,
To winne a woman, if you wud haue me speed,
Send all your wishes.

Bel.
No doubt y'are heard, proceede.

Hip.
To be a Harlot, that you stand vpon,
The very name's a charme to make you one.
Harlot was a Dame of so diuine
And rauishing touch, that she was Concubine
To an English King: her sweet bewitching eye
Did the Kings heart-strings in such loue-knots tye,
That euen the coyest was proud when she could heare
Men say, Behold; another Harlot there;
And after her all women that were faire
Were Harlots call'd, as to this day some are:
Besides her dalliance, she so well does mix,
That she's in Latine call'd the Meretrix.
Thus for the name; for the profession, this,


Who liues in bondage, liues lac'd, the chiefe blisse
This world below can yeeld, is liberty:
And who (than whores) with looser wings dare flie?
As Iunoes proud bird spreads the fairest taile,
So does a Strumpet hoist the loftiest saile.
She's no mans slaue; (men are her slaues) her eye
Moues not on wheeles screwd vp with Iealowsie.
She (Horst, or Coacht) does merry iourneys make,
Free as the Sunne in his gilt Zodiake:
As brauely does she shine, as fast she's driuen,
But staies not long in any house of Heauen:
But shifts from Signe, to Signe, her amorous prizes
More rich being when she's downe, then when she rizes.
In briefe, Gentlemen haunt them, Soldiers fight for them,
Few men but know them, few or none abhorre them:
Thus (for sport sake) speake I, as to a woman,
Whom (as the worst ground) I would turne to common:
But you I would enclose for mine owne bed.

Bel.
So should a husband be dishonoured.

Hip.
Dishonoured? not a whit: to fall to one
(Besides your husband) is to fall to none,
For one no number is.

Bel.
Faith, should you take
One in your bed, would you that reckoning make?
'Tis time you sound retreate.

Hip.
Say, haue I wonne,
Is the day ours?

Bel.
The battaile's but halfe done,
None but your selfe haue yet sounded alarmes,
Let vs strike too, else you dishonour armes.

Hip.
If you can win the day,
The glorie's yours.

Bel.
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 (euen 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 staru'd the first day that feeds in Common.

Hip.
You should not feed so, but with me alone.

Bel.
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.

Hip.
If all the threds of Harlots lyues are spun,
So coorse as you would make them, tell me why
You so long loued the trade?

Bel.
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 before that sin?
Like an ill husband (tho 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.

Hip.
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?

Bel.
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, went with a bashfull glance
At me, each bold and ieering countenance
Darted forth scorne: to her (as if she had bin
Some Tower unvanquished) 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.

Hip.
I!

Bel.
You? nay then as cowards doe in fight,
What by blowes cannot, shall be saued by flight.

Exit.
Hip.
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.

Exit.