The Way of the World by William Congreve (bts book recommendations TXT) 📕
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William Congreve’s comedy The Way of the World was first performed in 1700 at the theatre in Lincoln’s Inn Fields, London. It was not well received, and as a result Congreve vowed never to write for the stage again—a vow he kept. Nonetheless the comedy was printed in the same year and has come to be regarded as the author’s masterpiece, a classic of Restoration drama.
In a world still reacting against the puritanism of Cromwell and the Commonwealth, Restoration drama had slowly transitioned from celebrating the licentiousness and opulence of the newly returned court to the more thoughtful and refined comedy of manners that was to dominate the English stage of 18th century. In one way Congreve’s The Way of the World is the last (and best) of its type, and in another way, it is the forerunner of a style that is echoed even now.
The play centers on the love affair of Mirabell and Millamant who are prevented from marrying by a number of obstacles, not the least of which is Mirabell’s past dalliance with Millamant’s aunt’s affections. Intricate, witty, and amusing, the comedy nevertheless concludes with no clear heroes or heroines—one of the things that makes it such an incisive portrait of human experience and an enduring example of its type.
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- Author: William Congreve
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Where modesty’s ill manners, ’tis but fit
That impudence and malice pass for wit.
St. James’s Park.
Mrs. Fainall and Mrs. Marwood. Mrs. Fainall Aye, aye, dear Marwood, if we will be happy, we must find the means in ourselves, and among ourselves. Men are ever in extremes; either doting or averse. While they are lovers, if they have fire and sense, their jealousies are insupportable: and when they cease to love (we ought to think at least) they loathe, they look upon us with horror and distaste, they meet us like the ghosts of what we were, and as from such, fly from us. Mrs. Marwood True, ’tis an unhappy circumstance of life, that love should ever die before us; and that the man so often should outlive the lover. But say what you will, ’tis better to be left than never to have been loved. To pass our youth in dull indifference, to refuse the sweets of life because they once must leave us, is as preposterous as to wish to have been born old, because we one day must be old. For my part, my youth may wear and waste, but it shall never rust in my possession. Mrs. Fainall Then it seems you dissemble an aversion to mankind only in compliance to my mother’s humour. Mrs. Marwood Certainly. To be free, I have no taste of those insipid dry discourses with which our sex of force must entertain themselves apart from men. We may affect endearments to each other, profess eternal friendships, and seem to dote like lovers; but ’tis not in our natures long to persevere. Love will resume his empire in our breasts, and every heart, or soon or late, receive and readmit him as its lawful tyrant. Mrs. Fainall Bless me, how have I been deceived! Why, you profess a libertine. Mrs. Marwood You see my friendship by my freedom. Come, be as sincere, acknowledge that your sentiments agree with mine. Mrs. Fainall Never! Mrs. Marwood You hate mankind? Mrs. Fainall Heartily, inveterately. Mrs. Marwood Your husband? Mrs. Fainall Most transcendently;24 aye, though I say it, meritoriously. Mrs. Marwood Give me your hand upon it. Mrs. Fainall There. Mrs. Marwood I join with you; what I have said has been to try you. Mrs. Fainall Is it possible? Dost thou hate those vipers, men? Mrs. Marwood I have done hating ’em, and am now come to despise ’em; the next thing I have to do is eternally to forget ’em. Mrs. Fainall There spoke the spirit of an Amazon, a Penthesilea.25 Mrs. Marwood And yet I am thinking sometimes to carry my aversion further. Mrs. Fainall How? Mrs. Marwood Faith, by marrying; if I could but find one that loved me very well, and would be throughly sensible of ill usage, I think I should do myself the violence of undergoing the ceremony. Mrs. Fainall You would not make him a cuckold? Mrs. Marwood No; but I’d make him believe I did, and that’s as bad. Mrs. Fainall Why had not you as good do it? Mrs. Marwood Oh, if he should ever discover it, he would then know the worst, and be out of his pain; but I
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