PROLOGUE.

ORIGINALLY SPOKEN BY MRS. THURMOND.

TO-NIGHT we come upon a bold design,

To try to please without one borrow'd line
Our plot is new and regularly clear;
And not one single tittle from Moliere
O'er buried poets we with caution tread,
Aud parish sextons leave to rob the dead.
For you, bright British fair, in hopes to charm ye,
We bring to-night a lover from the army;
You know the soldiers have the strangest arts,
Such a proportion of prevailing parts,

You'd think that they rid post to women's hearts.
I wonder whence they draw their bold pretence;
We do not choose them sure for our defence?-
That plea is both impolitic and wrong,
And only suits such dames as want a tongue.
Is it their eloquence and fine address?
The softness of their language ?—Nothing less.
Is it their courage, that they bravely dare
To storm our sex at once ?-'Egad, 'tis there :
They act by us as in the rough campaign,
Unmindful of repulses, charge again;
They mine and countermine, resolv'd to win,
And, if a breach is made,-they will come in.
You'll think, by what we have of soldiers said,
Our female wit was in the service bred

But she is to the hardy toil a stranger,

;

She loves the cloth indeed, but hates the danger

EPILOGUE.

WRITTEN BY MR. SEWEL.

WHAT new strange ways our modern beaus devise!
What trials of love's skill to gain the prize!
The heathen gods, who never matter'd rapes,
Scarce wore such strange variety of shapes;
The devil take their odious, barren skulls,
To court in form of snakes and filthy bulls!
Old Jove once nick'd it too, as I am told,
In a whole lapful of true standard gold;
How must his godship then fair Danäe warın !
In trucking ware for ware, there is no harm
Well, after all that, money has a charm.
But now, indeed, that stale invention's past;
Besides, you know, that guineas fall so fast,
Poor nymph must come to pocket-piece at last.
Old Harry's face, or good queen Bess's ruff,—
Not that I'd take 'em,-may do well enough;
Νο
;-my ambitious spirit's far above
Those little tricks of mercenary love.

;

That man be mine, who, like the col❜nel here,
Can top his character in every sphere;
Who can a thousand ways employ his wit,
Out-promise statesmen, and out-cheat a cit;
Beyond the colours of a trav❜ller paint;
And cant, and ogle too,―beyond a saint.
The last disguise most pleas'd me, I confess ;
There's something tempting in the preaching dress!
And pleas'd me more than once a dame of note,
Who loved her husband in his footman's coat.

To see one eye in wanton motions play'd;
The other to the heav'nly regions stray'd,
As if it for its fellow frailties pray'd;
But yet I hope, for all that I have said,
To find my spouse a man of war in bed.

Yet to this circle of the brave and gay,
She bids me for her good intentions say,
She hopes you'll not reduce her to half-pay.
As for our play, 'tis English humour all;
Then will you let our manufacture fall?
Would you the honour of our nation raise,
Keep English credit up, and English plays.

A

BOLD STROKE FOR A WIFE.

ACT I.

SCENE I-A Tavern.-A table with bottles and glasses on it.

Enter L. COLONEL FEIGNWELL and FREEMAN; they sit down at the table.

Free. Come, colonel, I'll give you a toast: his majesty's health. You are as melancholy as if you were in love! I wish some of the beauties of Bath han't snapt your heart.

Col. F. Why 'faith, Freeman, I have seen a lady at Bath, who has kindled such a flame in me, that, all the waters there can't quench.

Free. Is she not to be had, colonel ?

୮

Col. F. Oh, that's a difficult question to answer; however, 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 miss Ann Lovely.

Col. F. 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's the opinion of the learned, that she must die a maid.

Col. F. 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. F. But may one trust him? Free. With your life; I have obligations enough upou him, to make him do any thing; I serve him with wine.

[Rings. Col. F. Nay, I know him very well myself. I formerly used to frequent a club that was kept here

B

Wai. Yes, sir.

¡Exit, L.

Col. F. Do you know any of this lady's guardians, Freeman?

Free. Yes, I know two of them very well. But here comes one will give you an account of them all.—

Enter SACKBUT, L. D. sits down with FEIGNWELL and FREE

MAN.

"Tis

Mr. Sackbut, we sent for you to take a glass with us. a maxim among the friends of the bottle, that as long as the master is in company, one may be sure of good wine.

Sack. Sir, you shall be sure to have as good wine as you send in.-Colonel, your most humble servant; you are welcome to town.

Col. F. I thank you, Mr. Sackbut.

Sack. I am as glad to see you as I should a hundred tuu of French claret, custom free.-My humble service to you, sir. [Drinks.] You don't look so merry as you used to do; arn'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 shan't scruple to serve my friend, I'm sure.

Col. F. '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-customed 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 reduced, colonel ?

Col. F. Reduced, landlord! reduced.

Free. To the miserable condition of a lover!

Suck. 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. F. Were the lady her own mistress, I have some reasons to believe I should soon command in chief.

Free. You know Miss 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