She ventures, and he wins a comedy acted at the New Theatre in Little Lincoln's-Inn Fields by His Majesty's servants / written by a young lady.

She Venters, and He Wins, &c. (Book 1)

ACT I. (Book 1)

SCENE I.

Enter Charlot and Juliana in Mens Cloaths.

JUL.

Faith, Charlot, the Breeches become you so well 'tis almost pity you should ever part with 'em.

Char.

Nor will I, till I can find one can make better use of them to bestow 'em on, and then I'll resign my Title to 'em for ever.

Jul.

'Tis well if you find it so easie, for a Woman once vested in Au∣thority, tho' 'tis by no other than her own making, does not willingly part with it: But, prithee Child, what is thy Design? for I am yet to learn.

Char.

Why, to ramble the Town till I can meet with the Man I can find in my heart to take for better for worse. These Cloaths will give us greater Li∣berty than the scandalous World will allow to our Petticoats, which we could not attempt this Undertaking in without hazard to our Modesty. Besides, should I meet with the Man whose outside please me, 'twill be impossible by any other means to discover his Humour; for they are so used to flatter and deceive our Sex, that there's nothing but the Angel appears, tho' the Devil lies lurking within, and never so much as shews his Paw till he has got his Prey fast in his Clutches.

Jul.

Methinks you that have so true a Notion of that treacherous Sex, should be afraid to venter for fear of being your self deceived.

Char.

No, my dear Julia, to avoid it is the scope of my Design; for, tho' by Laziness and Ease the generality of Mankind is degenerated into a soft Effe∣minacy, unworthy of the noble Stamp was set upon their Soul, there still re∣mains a Race retains the Image Heaven made them in, Vertuous, and Just, Sin∣cere and Brave: And such a one I'll find, if I search to the Antipodes for him, or else lead Apes in Hell.

Jul.

But, Dear Child, will not every one think you stark mad for a Hus∣band, to take this extravagant course for one?

Char.

No sure; none can think one of my Youth and Fortune can want the Tenders of Hearts enough; I'm not obliged to follow the World's dull Maxims, nor will I wait for the formal Address of some Ceremonious Coxcomb, with more Land than Brains, who would bargain for us as he would for his Horse, and talks of nothing but Taxes and hard Times, to make me a good Housewife; or else some gay young fluttering Thing, who calls him∣self a Beau, and wants my Fortune to maintain him in that Character: Such an opinionated Animal, who believes there needs no more to reach a Ladies Heart than a boon mien, fine Dress, the Perriwig well adjusted, the Hand well managed in taking Snuff, to shew the fine Diamond-Ring, if he's worth one; sometimes a conceited Laugh, with the Mouth stretch'd from one Ear to t'other, to discover the white Teeth, with sneak and cringe in an affected Tone, cries Damn me, Madam, if you are not the prettiest Creature my Eyes ere saw! 'Tis impossible for me to live if you are so cruel to deny me; with a world of such foolish stuff, which they talk all by rote; no, my Julia, I'll have one who love▪ my Person as well as Gold, and please my self, not the World, in my choice.

Jul.

Is there's any such thing as real Love in that false Sex, none sure is so capable to inspire it, as the charming Charlot, your Person is indeed infinitely taking, your Humour gay, and Wit refined, and Beauty enough to tempt a Hermit; yet, after all, you'll find it a difficult business to distinguish, which the most zealous Adorations are paid to, your Beauty, or Gold.

Char.

I warrant thee, Child, I'll take Care of that: But come, to our Af∣fairs in hand.

Jul.

Where's your Brother?

Char.

He's safe enough, he dined to Day at Sir Roger Marwood's, where, 'tis twenty to one, he'll be ingaged the Evening.

Jul.

Suppose he should meet us in our Rambles, he'd certainly know us.

Char.

You're so full of your Supposicions; suppose he should, which there's no great danger of, but at the Play-House, where we'll first stear our Course; he's too discreet to discover us, and too good humour'd to be angry, but will think it one of my mad Frolicks, without other Design, but a little Di∣version. But I know from whence your Fear proceeds; which, if you put any more Scruples into my Head, I'll discover; therefore look to your good Behaviour.

Jul.

sighs.

I confess you have me at an Advantage, but that has now no part in my design, to serve you with that little Wit I have; there's a Coach waits us at the Garden-Gate.

Char.

Allons, my Dear, now Love be propitious.

[Ex. Char. and Jul▪

SCENE II.

Enter Freeman, and Urania with a Letter in her Hand.

Uran.

Nay, prithee Freeman, be not in such a Rage at a thing so contempti∣bly ugly, that is not worth raising the Passion of a Man; you must trust to my Honesty after all you can do, and, if I design'd you foul play, I would not acquaint you thus freely, as I do, with all the Coxcomb's proceedings: Pray leave him to my management, and for once trust a Woman's Revenge; I'll warrant you I'll handle him so as shall give you more pleasant Satisfaction than any you can propose; nothing so sharpens our Sexe's Invention, as Re∣venge, the darling Delight of our Nature; and, if I do not pursue mine home, may the Curse of being thought dishonest, without knowing the plea∣sure of it, fall upon me.

Freem.

Urania, I do not suspect you of any Design to abuse me, but, as I be∣lieve you honest, I would have the World do so too. Besides, there is no Fort so impregnable, that may not one time or other, with long Assaults or Stra∣tagem, be taken: But I will have Patience, and see the result of your De∣signs; and, if they do not satisfie me very well, will then take my own Mea∣sures with him.

Uran.

Agreed, with all my Heart, here is the Letter I just now received from him, and likewise my Answer.

[Gives him two several Billets.

Freem.

reads.

Dear Mrs. Honysuckle,

I don't know what a Devil you have done to me, but I can neither eat, drink, or sleep, for thinking of those dear, damn'd Eyes that have set my Heart on fire; let me know when that troublesome Property, your Husband, is out of the way, and I will fly to assure you, I am your devoted Slave,

S. Wouldbe.

Freem.

Familiar sawey Fool, I know his Impudence so well, I do not wonder at him: But now for yours.

Reads.

'Tis impossible to gain any opportunity by my Husband's being abroad, because then I am confined to the Barr; but, if you dare, for my sake, metamorphise your Breeches into Petticoats, but avoiding the seeing of my Husband, and you may pass with all the security possible: To night, in Play-time, will be very convenient, it being a new one, we shall in all likelihood be empty of Company; so that you may have the opportunity, if you desire it, of being alone, with your obliged humble Servant.

Freem.

What mean you by this, Urania? Sure you mistook when you gave me this Letter? What is your Design? The Devil take me if I can imagine.

[Looks surly.

Uran.

Why, first to draw the Woodcock into the Net, and then to use him as I think fit. Pray relie on me, and be not so suspicious, for, if you are, you unravel my whole Design.

Freem.

I can scarce confine my Anger to a Jest; but, for once, I trust you, but if you play me false, and make me thus the Property, as he calls me, of my own Disgrace, look to 't, by Heaven I'll murder thee.

Uran.

Your Threats no way terrifie me, having no Designs that will give you any cause of Displeasure: I'll dispatch away a Messenger to my Gal∣lant, and, in the mean time, give you your Instructions, for you must be assi∣stant to me.

Freem.

Well, go in, I'll follow you immediately.

[Ex. Urania.

Freeman Solus.

I never had the least reason to distrust her Honesty, tho' I'm not perfectly satisfied with this Letter of hers; but I'll watch her narrowly, and it shall scape me hard if she deceive me.

[Exit. Freem.

SCENE III.

St. James's Park.

Enter Lovewell crossing the Stage; Charlot and Juliana following him in Mens Cloaths.

Char.

Thus far we have kept sight of him, see we don't loose him now.

Jul.

No, he's turning again this way.

Charl.

Well, if I like his Humour and Sense as well as his Person, my search is at an end; for this is my Man, I believe he'll make an excellent Frugal Husband, he has led us a sweet Jaunt; I am very weary, but must not complain. O, here he comes again, I'll accost him, and try what Mettle he's made of.

Jul.

Why sure thou art not stark mad; s'life he'll beat us, do you see how surly he looks.

Char.

No Parlying now; Prepare to second me, whilst I give the On∣set.

Jul.

Thou'rt a Mad-Wench, but I'll not fly from my Colours.

Char.

Well said Girl, now I like thee; but here he is.

Enter Lovewell, as crossing the Stage, Charlot stops him.

Char.

Give a Stranger leave Sir, to disturb your Meditations, which seem to be as serious, as if you had just received the fatal Nay, and were now breathing Vengeance against Fortune, Love, and Woman-kind.

[All the while she speaks, he surveys her from Head to Foot.

Love.

Indeed, you mistake, young Sir, I was thinking of no such Trifles: those Fooleries belong to your Years, or at least are only then excusable, But I believe you'r disposed to be merry, Gentlemen, and at this time I am very unfit Company for you; the serious Humour I am in, will not agree with yours.

Jul.

Is it the effects of being crost in some Design, makes you so, or your natural Temper?

Love.

Neither Sir, but why does it concern you to know.

Char.

Because we would gladly divert it, Sir, would you accept of our Endeavours towards it, by admitting us into your Company.

Jul.

There's nothing so pernicious to Health, as the indulging of Melan∣choly, and we having a particular interest in yours, must by no means leave you with so dangerous a Companion.

Love.

A particular Interest in my Health, for what end, Sir?

Char.

Oh, for several: My future Happiness and all my Joy on Earth de∣pends upon it, had I as many Lives as Argus's Eyes, I'd hazard 'em all for the preservation of yours.

Love.

Hey day! whence grows this mighty kindness? I fear Sir, you are mistaken; I do not remember I ever had the honour to see you be∣fore.

Char.

I have evidences enough confirms me, you're the Man that has cruelly robb'd a near and dear Relation of mine of her Repose for ever, and except you restore it her by reciprocal Love, I fear the worst effects of this unhappy Passion.

Love.

Oh Sir, I find you design to divert your self instead of me.

[Love walking off.

Char.

By Honour, Truth, and all that's Sacred, I'm serious.

[Char. catching hold off him.

Love.

Well Sir, bring me to the Lady, I'm not so cruelly inclined, to let a pretty Woman languish for any civil Kindness I can do her.

Char.

O Heavens! Julia! if he should be Married! I dare not proceed, till I know, do you ask him the Question, for I have not Courage.

[Char. aside to Julia.

Jul.

Never fear it, he has not the Slovenly Air of a Married Man, but you shall soon be satisfied.

Pray Sir, give me leave to ask you an impertinent Question. Are you Married?

[To him.

Love.

Heavens forbid, 'tis the only happiness I can boast.

Char.

Perhaps you may find it a greater than you are aware of, before we part, if you use it to your advantage.

Jul.

What think you, Sir, of a young Beautiful Lady with a great Fortune, who loves you well enough to throw her self into your Arms? Could you find in your Heart think you to refuse her.

Love.

Why Faith, my little Acquaintance, these would all very well agree with a Man under my circumstances; but pray Gentlemen, unriddle, and let me know the good Fortune you tantalize me with.

Char.

Well Sir, I will most faithfully discharge my Message, I have as I told you, a Relation that is infinitely dear to me, who is, if the World does not flatter her, not Unhandsome; Young I'm sure she is, and not Ill-humour'd, but what supplies all Defects, is a Fortune not despicable, being by the Death of her Mothers Father, who was a Rich East-India Merchant, possest of 1500 l. a Year, besides a considerable value in Money and Jewels; but what renders her most worthy of your Affections, is that she passionately loves you, loves

you to Madness, from the first Moment she saw you, and must be ever-mi∣serable to live without you.

Jul.

Alas, it is not possible she can live at all, without a suitable Return to her Affection, you cannot sure Sir, be cruel to a young Lady.

Love.

Looks surly.

Ah poor Lady, it may be so.

[To Julian.

But you had best Sir, put your Friend upon some other Subject, for we shall not be Company for each other long, if he proceeds in this, one of you I presume have been dabling with your Lady's Mothers Woman, and wants a convenient Tool to cover shame; you were strangely ill-advis'd to pick me out, there be Cullies enough to serve your gross purpose, for whatever Opinion you may have of your moving Rheto∣rick, you'll find it no easie matter to impose upon a Man, who has had more Experience of the Town than your Years will give you leave to know. 'Tis your Youth indeed that best excuses your Folly, in attempting a Man you have no reason either from his Character (if you ever heard it) or that Conversation you have had with him, to think a Fool fit for the use I find you design me.

[Is walking off.

Char.

By Heaven, and all that's good, you do me wrong: I'm sensible how hard a matter it would be to impose on you, or did she think you so, I'm sure would scorn you; may all the Happiness I wish my self, prove endless Torments, if every Word I have said, be not sincerely true.

[Char. holds him and looks concerned.

Love.

What, I warrant, 'tis some good Pious Alderman's Wife, that finding her Husband defective, wants a Drudge to raise an Heir to the Family, 'tis indeed the common Game we younger Brothers live by.

Jul.

Sir, does our Habits or Addresses merit no better an Opinion, than so sordid a Thought of us: Besides, did we not tell you, she is a Rich Young Heiress, and consequently unmarried.

Love▪

Pardon me, Sir, I had forgot that, but there follows a greater mischief; she's, I suppose, for Honourable-Love: No, I'm for none of that. If she'l accept of a Civil Kindness or so, I'll do my best to pleaseher.

Char.

When I have told you Sir, that this Lady whom you please to be so wit∣ty upon, is Sister to Sir Charles Frankford, think if you can hope for any thing from her, but what Marriage which you so much despise, entitles you to; if you do not know him, give your self the trouble to enquire after him, and his Sister Charlot, whom perhaps you may not find so contemptible, as you i∣magine; or at least if she does not merit your Love, she may a little more respect.

Love.

This looks very real, it may be true, and I like an unlucky Dog be too incredulous.

[Aside.

Sir, I most earnestly intreat your Pardon, Sir Charles Frankford I know ve∣ry well, and have often heard of his beautiful Sister, but yet you must give me leave to distrust my own merit, so much as to think she cannot cast away a Thought, much less her Love on so unworthy an Object of it, as the unhappy Lovewell.

Char.

You're as suspicious as an old Lady, that Marries a Young Man, is of a Handsome Chamber-Maid, (but no more Doubts and Scruples dear In∣fidel, but if you resolve to Marry this kind-hearted Lady, make me the Messenger.

Love.

Well, conduct me to the Lady, we shall make the best Bargain, I hope you would not have me Marry without seeing her.

Char.

No Sir, be to Morrow Morning exactly at Nine a Clock, at Rosa∣mond's Pond, she'll meet you there with one Lady more, both mask'd, she that gives you her Hand, accept with it her Heart and Person, but come not, if you do not fully resolve to Marry her; consider of it till to Morrow Morning. Come Cozen, I believe by this time we have tired the Gentleman of our Company.

Jul.

But first, let's know your final Resolution.

Love.

'Tis to meet the Lady however.

Jul.

We may trust to her Charms for the rest.

Char.

Well Sir, adieu, remember Nine.

Love.

Fear not, I'm too much pleas'd with the imagination of my ap∣proaching Happiness to forget it.

Char.

We'll set you down where you please.

Love.

With all my Heart, I lodge in Leicester-fields.

Char.

That's in our way, come Sir.

[Exeunt Omnes.

The End of the First Act.