Ped. Ay, do; come, let's see this contract, then. Fel. Yes, yes, I'll shew you the contract-I'll SCENE III.-Changes to the Street before Don shew you the contract-Here, sir-Here's the [Draws a pistol. contract: Ped. [Starting.] Well, well, I'm convincedGo, go-pray go and be married, sir. Fel. Yes, yes; I'll go-I'll go and be married; but sha'n't we take a bottle first? Ped. No, no,-pray, dear sir, go and be married: Fel. Very well, very well; [Going] but I insist upon your taking one glass, though. Ped, No, not now-some other time-consider the lady waits. Fel. What a cross old fool! First he will, and then he won't; and then he will, and then he won't. [Exit. peror. Lop. My son drunk!-I never saw him in drink in my life.Where is he, pray, sir? Ped. Gone to be married. Lop. Married!-To whom?-I don't know that he courted any body. Ped. Nay, I know nothing of that-but I'm sure he shewed me the contract.-Within there! Enter Servant. Eid my daughter come hither; she'll tell you another story, my lord. Sero, She's gone out in a chair, sir. Ped. Out in a chair!—what do you mean, sir? Serv. As I say, sir;-and Donna Isabella went in another just before her. Lop. Isabella! Serv. And Don Felix followed in another: PEDRO'S House. Enter LISSARDO. Liss. I wish I could see Flora-methinks I have an hankering kindness after the slut—we must be reconciled. Enter GIBBY. Gib. Aw my saul, sir, but Ise blithe to find yee here now. Liss. Ha, brother! give me thy hand, boy. Gib. No se fast, se ye me-Brether me ne brethers; I scorn a leer as muckle as a thiefe, se ye now, and ye must gang intul this house with me, and justify to Donna Violante's face, that she was the lady that gang'd in here this morn, se ye me, or the deel ha my saul, sir, but ye and I shall be twa folks. Liss. Justify it to Donna Violante's face, quoth-a! For what? Sure you don't know what you say. Gib. Troth de I, sir, as weel as yee de: therefore come along, and make na mair words about it, Liss. Why, what the devil do you mean? Don't you consider you are in Portugal? Is the fellow mad? Ped. How now? What makes you knock so loud? Gib. Gin this be Don Pedro's house, sir, I would speak with Donna Violante, his daughter. Ped. Ha! what is it you want with my daughter, pray? Gib. An' she be your daughter, an' lik your honour, command her to come out, and answer for herself now, and either justify or disprove what this chield told me this morn. Liss. So, here will be a fine piece of work. [Aside. Ped. Why, what did he tell ha? you, Gib. By my saul, sir, Ise tell you aw the truth. -My master got a pratty lady upon the---how de call't- -Passa-here, at five this morn, and he gar me watch her heam-and in troth I lodg'd her here; and meeting this ill-favour'd thiefe, se ye me, I speered wha she was-and he I overheard them all bid the chair go to the Ter-tald me her name was Donna Violante, Don Periero de Passa. Ped. Ha! what business has my daughter there? I am confounded, and know not what to thinkWithin there! [Exit. Lop. My heart misgives me plagiluy.-Call me an alguazil—I'll pursue them straight. [Exit. dro de Mendosa's daughter. Ped. Ha! my daughter with a man, abroad at five in the morning! Death, hell, and furies! By Saint Anthony, I'm undone. Gib. Wounds, sir! ye put yer saint intul bonny company. Ped. Who is your master, you dog you?-Adsheart, I shall be trick'd of my daughter and money too, that's worst of all. Gib. You dog you!-'Sbleed, sir! don't call names-I won't tell you who my master is, se ye me now. Ped. And who are you, rascal, that know my daughter so well? ha! [Holds up his cane. Liss. What shall I say, to make him give this Scotch dog a good beating? [Aside.] I know your daughter, signior! Not I; I never saw your daughter in all my life. Gib. [Knocks him down with his fist.] Deel ha my saul, sir, gin ye get no your carich for that lie now. Ped. What, hoa! where are all my servants? Enter Colonel, FELIX, ISABELLA, and VIOLANTE. Ped. I am thunderstruck-and have no power to speak one word. Fel. This is a day of jubilee, Lissardo; no quarrelling with him this day. Liss. A pox take his fists!'Egad, these Britons are but a word and a blow. you Enter Don LOPEZ. my thoughts were not over-strong for a nunnery, father. Lop. Your daughter has play'd you a slippery trick too, signior. Ped. But your son shall never be the better for't, my lord; her twenty thousand pounds were left on certain conditions, and I'll not part with a shilling. Lop. But we have a certain thing, call'd law, shall make you do justice, sir. Ped. Well, we'll try that- -My lord, much good may it do you with your daughter-in-law. [Exit. Lop. I wish you much joy of your rib. [Exit. Enter FREDERICK. Fel. Frederick, welcome!-I sent for thee to be partaker of my happiness, and pray give me leave to introduce you to the cause of it. Fred. Your messenger has told me all, and I sincerely share in all your happiness. Col. To the right about, Frederick; wish thy friend joy. Fred. I do with all my soul-and, madam, I congratulate your deliverance.-Your suspicions are clear'd now, I hope, Felix? Fel. They are, and I heartily ask the colonel pardon, and wish him happy with my sister; for love has taught me to know that every man's hap piness consists in choosing for himself. Liss. After that rule I fix here. [To FLORA Flo. That's your mistake: I prefer my lady's service, and turn you over to her that pleaded Lop. So, have I found you, daughter? Then right and title to you to-day. have not hanged yourself yet, I see. [Kneels. Lop. Why, hark ye, mistress, are you really married? Isab. Really so, my lord. [Holding up his hands. Ped. She has played you a slippery trick, indeed, my lord.-Well, my girl, thou hast been to see thy friend married-next week thou shalt have a better husband, my dear. [To VIOLANTE. Fel. Next week is a little too soon, sir; I hope to live longer than that. Ped. What do you mean, sir? You have not made a rib of my daughter too, have yoù ? Vio. Indeed but he has, sir: I know not how, but he took me in an unguarded minute-when Liss. Choose, proud fool! I sha'n't ask you twice. Gib. What say ye now, lass-will ye ge yer hond to poor Gibby?-What say you; will you dance the reel of Bogie with me? Inis. That I may not leave my lady, I take you at your word; and though our wooing has been short, I'll by her example love you dearly. [Music plays Fel. Hark, I hear the music; somebody has done us the favour to call them in. [A country dance. Gib. Wounds, this is bonny music!--How caw ye that thing that ye pinch by the craig, and tickle the weamb, and make it cry grum, grum? Fred. Oh! that's a guitar, Gibby. Let us no more thy sex's conduct blame, EPILOGUE. WRITTEN BY MR PHILIPS. CUSTOM, with all our modern laws combin'd, Promise and swear what we ne'er meant to do, I'd spoil'd the Wonder, and the woman shown. * Alluding to an ironical pamphlet tending to prove that women had no souls, A BOLD STROKE FOR A WIFE. BY Mrs CENTLIVRE. PROLOGUE. TO-NIGHT we come upon a bold design, Is it their courage, that they bravely dare SCENE I.-A Tavern. ACT I. Colonel FAINWELL and FREEMAN over a bottle. Free. Come, colonel, his majesty's health.You are as melancholy as if you were in love! I wish some of the beauties of Bath ha'n't snapt your heart. Col. Why, faith, Freeman, there is something in't; I have seen a lady at Bath, who has kindied such a flame in me, that all the waters there cann't quench. Free. Women, like some poisonous animals, carry their antidote about 'em-Is she not to be had, colonel? Col. That's a difficult question to answer; how ever, I resolve to try: perhaps you may be able to serve me; you merchants know one another The lady told me herself she was under the charge of four persons. Free. Odso! 'tis Mrs Anne Lovely. Col. The same-Do you know her? Free. Know her! ay.—Faith, colonel, your condition is more desperate than you imagine: Why, she is the talk and pity of the whole town; and it is the opinion of the learned that she must die a maid. Col. Say you so? That's somewhat odd, in this charitable city.-She's a woman, I hope? Free. For aught I know, but it had been as well for her, had nature made her any other part of the creation. The man who keeps this house served her father; he is a very honest fellow, and may be of use to you; we'll send for him to take a glass with us: he'll give you her whole history, and 'tis worth your hearing. Col. But may one trust him? Free. With your life: I have obligations enough upon him to make him do any thing: I serve him with wine. [Knocks. Col. Nay, I know him very well myself. I once used to frequent a club that was kept here. Col. I thank you, Mr Sackbut. Sack. I am as glad to see you as I should a hundred tun of French claret custom free.-My service to you, sir. [Drinks.] You don't look so merry as you used to do; ar❜n't you well, colonel? Free. He has got a woman in his head, landlord; can you help him? Sack. If 'tis in my power, I sha'n't scruple to serve my friend. Col. 'Tis one perquisite of your calling. Sack. Ay, at t'other end of the town, where you officers use, women are good forcers of trade: a well-custom'd house, a handsome bar-keeper, with clean obliging drawers, soon get the master an estate; but our citizens seldom do any thing but cheat within the walls.-But as to the lady, colonel, point you at particulars? or have you a good Champagne stomach? Are you in full pay, or reduc'd, colonel. Col. Reduc'd, reduc'd, landlord. Free. To the miserable condition of a lover! Sack. Pish! that's preferable to half-pay: a woman's resolution may break before the peace: push her home, colonel; there's no parlying with the fair sex. Col. Were the lady her own mistress, I have some reasons to believe I should soon command in chief. Free. You know Mrs Lovely, Mr Sackbut? Sack. Know her! Ay, poor Nancy: I have carried her to school many a frosty morning. Alas! if she's the woman, I pity you, colonel : her father, my old master, was the most whimsical, out-ofthe-way temper'd man I ever heard of, as you will guess by his last will and testament.-This was his only child, and I have heard him wish her dead a thousand times. Col. Why so? Sack. He hated posterity, you must know, and wish'd the world were to expire with himself.He used to swear, if she had been a boy, he would have qualified him for the opera. Free. 'Twas a very unnatural resolution in a father. Suck. He died worth thirty thousand pounds, which he left to his daughter, provided she married with the consent of her guardians; but that she might be sure never to do so, he left her in the care of four men, as opposite to each other as the four elements: each has his quarterly rule; and three months in a year she is oblig'd to be subject to each of their humours; and they are pretty different, I assure you.-She is just come from Bath. Col. 'Twas there I saw her. Sack. Ay, sir, the last quarter was her beau guardian's. She appears in all public places during his reign. Col. She visited a lady who boarded in the same house with me: I liked her person, and found an T |