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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 the Duke, Lodouico, and Orlando: after them Infælice, Carolo, Astolfo, Beraldo, Fontinell.
Orl.

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.


Duke
Thou hast thy wish, Orlando, passe vnknowne,
Sforsa shall onely goe along with thee.
To see that Warrant serued vpon thy Sonne.

Lod.
To attach him vpon fellony, for 2. Pedlers: is't not so?



Orl.

Right, my Noble Knight: those Pedlers were two
Knaues of mine; he fleec'd the men before, and now he purposes
to flea the Master. He will rob me, his teeth water to
be nibbling at my gold, but this shal hang him by'th gills, till
I pull him on shore.


Duke

Away: ply you the businesse.


Orl.

Thankes to your Grace: but my good Lord, for my
Daughter.


Duke

You know what I haue said.


Orl.

And remember what I haue sworne: She's more honest,
on my soule, then one of the Turkes Wenches, watcht
by a hundred Eunuches.


Lod.

So she had need, for the Turkes make them whores.


Orl.

He's a Turke that makes any woman a Whore, hee's
no true Christian I'm sure. I commit your Grace.


Duke

Infælice.


Infæ.

Here, sir.


Lod.

Signior Friscabaldo.


Orl.

Frisking agen, Pacheco?


Lod.

Vds so, Pacheco? wee'll haue some sport with this
Warrant: 'tis to apprehend all suspected persons in the
house: Besides, there's one Bots a Pander, and one Madam
Horsleach a Bawde, that haue abus'd my friend, those two
Coneyes will we ferret into the pursenet.


Orl.

Let me alone for dabbing them o'th necke: come,
come.


Lod.
Doe ye heare, Gallants? meet me anon at Matheos.

Omnes.
Enough.

Exeunt Lodouico & Orlando.
Duke
Th'old Fellow sings that note thou didst before,
Onely his tunes are, that she is no Whore,
But that she sent his Letters and his gifts,
Out of a Noble Triumph o're his Lust,
To shew she trampled his Assaults in dust.

Infæ,
'Tis a good honest seruant, that old man.

Duke
I doubt no lesse.

Infæ.
And it may be my husband,
Because when once this woman was vnmaskt,


He leueld all her thoughts, and made them fit:
Now he'd marre all agen, to try his wit.

Duke
It may be so too, for to turne a Harlot
Honest, it must be by strong Antidots,
'Tis rare, as to see Panthers change their spots.
And when she's once a Starre (fixed) and shines bright,
Tho 'twere impiety then to dim her light,
Because we see such Tapers seldome burne.
Yet 'tis the pride and glory of some men,
To change her to a blazing Starre agen,
And it may be, Hipollito does no more.
It cannot be, but y'are acquainted all
With that same madnesse of our Sonne-in-law,
That dotes so on a Curtizan.

Omnes.
Yes, my Lord.

Car.
All the City thinkes he's a Whoremonger.

Ast.
Yet I warrant, he'll sweare, no man markes him.

Ber.

'Tis like so, for when a man goes a wenching, is as if
he had a strong stincking breath, euery one smells him out,
yet he feeles it not, tho it be rancker then the sweat of sixteene
Bearewarders.


Duke
I doubt then you haue all those stinking breaths,
You might be all smelt out.

Car.

Troth my Lord, I thinke we are all as you ha bin in
your youth when you went a Maying, we all loue to heare
the Cuckoo sing vpon other mens Trees.


Duke
It's well yet you confesse: but Girle, thy bed
Shall not be parted with a Curtizan—'tis strange,
No frowne of mine, no frowne of the poore Lady,
(My abused child, his wife) no care of fame,
Of Honor, Heauen or Hell, no not that name
Of Common Strumpet, can affright, or woo
Him to abandon her; the Harlot does vndoe him,
She has bewitched him, robd him of his shape,
Turnd him into a beast, his reason's lost,
You see he lookes wild, does he not?

Car.
I ha noted new Moones


In's face, my Lord, all full of change.

Duke
He's no more like vnto Hipollito,
Then dead men are to liuing—neuer sleepes,
Or if he doe, it's dreames; and in those dreames
His armes worke,—and then cries—Sweet—what's her
Name, what's the drabs name?

Ast.
In troth, my Lord, I know not,
I know no drabs, not I.

Duke
Oh, Bellafront!
And catching her fast, cries, My Bellafront.

Car.

A drench that's able to kill a Horse, cannot kill this
disease of Smock-smelling, my Lord, if it haue once eaten
deepe.


Duke
Ile try all Phisicke, and this Med'cine first:
I haue directed Warrants strong and peremptory
(To purge our Citty Millan, and to cure the outward
Parts, the Suburbes) for the attaching
Of all those women, who (like gold) want waight,
Citties (like Ships) should haue no idle fraight

Car.
No, my Lord, and light wenches are no idle fraight,
But what's your Graces reach in this?

Duke
This (Carolo.) If she whom my Son doates on,
Be in that Master-booke enrold, he'll shame
Euer t'approach one of such noted name.

Car.
But say she be not?

Duke
Yet on Harlots heads
New Lawes shall fall so heauy, and such blowes shall
Giue to those that haunt them, that Hipollito
(If not for feare of Law) for loue to her,
If he loue truely, shall her bed forbeare.

Car.

Attach all the light heeles i'th Citty, and clap em vp?
why, my Lord? you diue into a Well vnsearchable: all the
Whores within the walls, & without the walls? I would not
be he should meddle with them for ten such Dukedomes;
the Army that you speake on, is able to fill all the prisons
within this Citty, and to leaue not a drinking roome in any
Tauerne besides.




Duke
Those onely shall be caught that are of note,
Harlots in each street flow:
The fish being thus i'th net, our selfe will sit,
And with eye most seuere dispose of it.—come, Girle.

Car.
Araigne the poore Whore.

Ast.
Ile not misse that Sessions.

Font.
Nor I.

Ber.
Nor I,
Tho I hold vp my hand there my selfe.

Exeunt.