THE
WAY OF THE WORLD
By
William Congreve
William
Congreve, 1670-1729, was born in Yorkshire,
England. As his
father was an officer in the army and the commander of a garrison near Cork in Ireland,
Congreve was educated at Kilkenny and then at Trinity College,
Dublin, where
he was a slightly younger college-mate of Jonathan Swift. In 1691, he was
admitted to the Middle
Temple in London to study law. It
is likely that, like Young Witwoud in The Way of the World, his interest
in law was only a means to take him to London,
the center of all excitement.
By
1692, Congreve was already a recognized member of the literary world. His first
play, The Old Bachelor, was
first acted in January 1693, before he was twenty-three years old, and was
triumphantly successful. His other plays, The
Double-Dealer, Love for Love, The Mourning Bride, and The Way
of the World, all
followed at short intervals. The last of them was presented in March 1700.
For
the rest of his life, Congreve wrote no plays. The Way
of the World was not successful on the stage, and this disappointment may
have had something to do with his decision. He engaged in controversy with
Jeremy Collier on the morality of the stage, a frustrating experience. He
suffered from gout and bad sight. He became an elder statesman of letters at
the age of thirty, honored by the nobility, highly respected by younger writers.
In
his later years, Congreve conducted an ambiguous romance with Henrietta,
Duchess of Marlborough.
When he died, she erected a tablet to his memory in Westminster Abbey. She also ordered a
life-size figure of him and had it seated in his regular place at her table.
The feet were swathed in bandages and a doctor "treated"
Congreve for gout daily. This rather surprising memento casts its own odd light
on the Duchess, perhaps on Congreve, and certainly on the status of the medical
profession at the time.
Dedication
In
this dedication, as in most others of the period, we may ignore the rather
fulsome praise of the man to whom it was addressed; that praise is a convention
of the time. Some of the comments made in the letter, however, are of interest.
Congreve was obviously chagrined at the play's lukewarm reception and
attributed it to the coarse taste of the audience. The playgoers were
accustomed to plays where "the characters meant to be
ridiculed" were "fools so gross" that "instead
of moving our mirth, they ought very often to excite our compassion."
Congreve's description of his own purpose when creating comic characters is
revealing: "to design some characters which should appear ridiculous, not
so much through a natural folly . . . as through an affected wit . . . which .
. . is also false." This statement has often been considered
the basic definition of characterization in the "Comedy
of Manners," a genre where "affectation"
is the great fault. Unfortunately, Congreve continues, many people could not
distinguish between "a Witwoud and a Truewit."
Not
all of the comic characters in The Way of the World are
"affectations," for Congreve included
some that were created as "humours."
He is here making the point that he is avoiding the extremes of farce, what we
might call slapstick, in this comedy.
Play Summary
Before
the action of the play begins, the following events are assumed to have taken
place.
Mirabell,
a young man-about-town, apparently not a man of great wealth, has had an affair
with Mrs. Fainall, the widowed daughter of Lady Wishfort. To protect her from
scandal in the event of pregnancy, he has helped engineer her marriage to Mr.
Fainall, a man whom he feels to be of sufficiently good reputation to
constitute a respectable match, but not a man of such virtue that tricking him
would be unfair. Fainall, for his part, married the young widow because he
coveted her fortune to support his amour with Mrs. Marwood. In time, the
liaison between Mirabell and Mrs. Fainall ended (although this is not explicitly
stated), and Mirabell found himself in love with Millamant, the niece and ward
of Lady Wish-fort, and the cousin of his former mistress.
There
are, however, financial complications. Half of Millamant's fortune was under
her own control, but the other half, 6,000 pounds, was controlled by Lady
Wishfort, to be turned over to Millamant if she married a suitor approved by
her aunt. Unfortunately, Mirabell had earlier offended Lady Wishfort; she had
misinterpreted his flattery as love.
Mirabell,
therefore, has contrived an elaborate scheme. He has arranged for a pretended
uncle (his valet, Waitwell) to woo and win Lady Wishfort. Then Mirabell intends
to reveal the actual status of the successful wooer and obtain her consent to
his marriage to Millamant by rescuing her from this misalliance. Waitwell was
to marry Foible, Lady Wishfort's maid, before the masquerade so that he might
not decide to hold Lady Wishfort to her contract; Mirabell is too much a man of
his time to trust anyone in matters of money or love. Millamant is aware of the
plot, probably through Foible.
When
the play opens, Mirabell is impatiently waiting to hear that Waitwell is
married to Foible. During Mirabell's card game with Fainall, it becomes clear
that the relations between the two men are strained. There are hints at the
fact that Fainall has been twice duped by Mirabell: Mrs. Fainall is Mirabell's
former mistress, and Mrs. Marwood, Fainall's mistress, is in love with
Mirabell. In the meantime, although Millamant quite clearly intends to have
Mirabell, she enjoys teasing him in his state of uncertainty.
Mirabell
bids fair to succeed until, unfortunately, Mrs. Marwood overhears Mrs. Fainall
and Foible discussing the scheme, as well as Mirabell and Mrs. Fainall's
earlier love affair. Since Mrs. Marwood also overhears insulting comments about
herself, she is vengeful and informs Fainall of the plot and the fact, which he
suspected before, that his wife was once Mirabell's mistress. The two
conspirators now have both motive and means for revenge. In the same afternoon,
Millamant accepts Mirabell's proposal and rejects Sir Wilfull Witwoud, Lady
Wishfort's candidate for her hand.
Fainall
now dominates the action. He unmasks Sir Rowland, the false uncle, and
blackmails Lady Wishfort with the threat of her daughter's disgrace. He demands
that the balance of Millamant's fortune, now forfeit, be turned over to his
sole control, as well as the unspent balance of Mrs. Fainall's fortune. In
addition, he wants assurance that Lady Wishfort will not marry so that Mrs.
Fainall is certain to be the heir.
This
move of Fainall's is now countered; Millamant says that she will marry Sir
Wilfull to save her own fortune. Fainall insists that he wants control of the
rest of his wife's money and immediate management of Lady Wishfort's fortune.
When Mirabell brings two servants to prove that Fainall and Mrs. Marwood were
themselves guilty of adultery, Fainall ignores the accusation and points out
that he will still create a scandal which would blacken the name of Mrs. Fainall
unless he gets the money.
At
this point, Mirabell triumphantly reveals his most successful ploy. Before Mrs.
Fainall married Fainall, she and Mirabell had suspected the man's character,
and she had appointed her lover trustee of her fortune. Fainall is left with no
claim to make because Mrs. Fainall does not control her own money. He and Mrs.
Marwood leave in great anger. Sir Wilfull steps aside as Millamant's suitor;
Lady Wishfort forgives the servants and consents to the match of Mirabell and
Millamant.
The
Restoration Period
The
term Restoration drama, usually applied to the
plays written during the period from 1660 to 1700 or 1710, is not really satisfactory.
Charles II was restored to the English throne in 1660. By 1700, Charles II had
died, his brother James had reigned for five years and had been deposed in the "glorious
revolution," or "bloodless revolution," of 1688, and
William and Mary had reigned for twelve years. Congreve was not born until ten
years after the Restoration; The Way of the World was
first presented when he was thirty. By that time, some of the most obvious and
most notorious features of the period no longer existed or existed only in much
weaker forms.
The
easiest way to grasp the particular tone of the Restoration period is to think
of it as a reaction against the Puritanism of Cromwell and the period of the
Commonwealth. The dissolute court of Charles II is well known in history and
legend. It was the result of a blend of world-weariness, cynicism, and
debauchery, dominated by a group of exiles who returned to their country
determined to make up for the lean years history had imposed upon them. In
general, the people of England
welcomed the change. But such a reaction had only a limited life; the court
gradually shifted from undisguised dissipation to the pattern of covert
intrigues, political and domestic, and the clandestine adulteries that always
existed in English courts.
The relations
between the court and the theater were more than merely casual. Among Charles
II's first acts after he returned to the throne was the reopening of the
playhouses that had been closed by the Puritans. He was a patron of the
theater, attended frequently, and was fond of "a
very merry play." Since, in fact, in the early years of
the Restoration the theater depended very greatly on the support of the
nobility and its hangers-on, it reflected the taste of the court and its
activities. For the courtiers, "tis a pleasant, well-bred,
complaisant, fine, frolic, good-natured, pretty age; and if you do not like it
leave it to us that do," as one of Wycherley's
characters says. Many characters in the comedies were based on well-known
figures in the court; many episodes echoed scandals that were known.
By
the 1690s, if not earlier, a change in the court's attitudes occurred that
inevitably affected the theater. William and Mary did not follow in the
footsteps of the queen's uncle, Charles II. The over-reaction to Puritanism had
run its course, and respectability was reasserting its importance in the life
of the upper and middle classes. A Society for the Reformation of Manners was
organized; laws were passed to suppress licentiousness. At the same time, the
audience changed. In the 1660s and 1670s, the solid and wealthy middle class
had ignored or deliberately avoided the theater; they now became an important
part of the audience. This was due to their increased sophistication, but
inevitably they imposed their values on the playwrights as well. And the
English merchant was not prepared to condone a cynical acceptance of loose
behavior.
Influences
on Restoration Comedy
The
nature of the audience is a very important influence on all art forms,
theatrical arts especially. But it is only one factor. Attempts to explain — if
such a thing is possible — Restoration drama must consider other threads of
influence as well. Because the theaters were closed between 1642 and 1660,
there was at one time a tendency to treat the Restoration drama as if it had no
connections with the main stream of English drama. This was, on the face of it,
inaccurate. People had seen Jacobean plays; the plays were there to read; and
Jacobean plays formed the bulk of the repertoire of the two theatrical
companies after the Restoration. At the same time, the courtiers, returning
after varying lengths of time spent in France, had seen French plays. We
might, therefore, list the main threads that made up that many-splendored
thing, Restoration comedy.
There
existed an English tradition of social comedy that treated the love game with
lightness, humor, and some ribaldry. Such comedies are associated with Beaumont
and Fletcher, among others. The plays included satire of social types: the
fops, the pedants, and the vain women. At the same time, the English comic
tradition included a different comedy of character types, Ben Jonson's comedy
of "humours," which emphasized the way in which
people's characters would be strongly bent in one direction. Jonson's plays
were also intensely satiric, attacking above all the sins of avarice, lechery,
and hypocrisy.
There
was a strong French influence which led to elegance of plotting,
characterization, and acting. The French emphasis on correctness was probably a
salutary antidote to the casual attitude to structure of many Elizabethan and
Jacobean dramatists. However, one characteristic of French comedy, unity of
plot, was never adopted; English comedies had plots and subplots, and generally
an excess of action.
The
third most important influence on the comedy was the patronage of the court.
Very often what occurred in the play had to be thought of as a private joke,
comprehensible only to those "in the know."
The
ways in which these various threads of influence showed themselves varied from
dramatist to dramatist. One dramatist, Wycherley, might borrow a plot from
Molierè but then add subplots and make the sympathetic characters coarser and
their antagonists more crudely vicious to intensify the satire: Le
Misanthrope is a brilliant French comedy, and The Plain
Dealer is a brilliant English comedy based on
it, but very different indeed. Some comic writers attempted to follow in the
footsteps of Ben Jonson, and Congreve himself professed an occasional
dependence on the Jonsonian "humour."
Other dramatists, whose works are not generally anthologized, for their plays
are not among the best, depended on scandal, bawdry, and the mirroring of their
narrow world's activities.
Congreve
represents the attitude of the period at its best. The rakehell was no longer a
hero; Mirabell is a descendent of the rakehell, but compared with earlier
specimens he displays urbanity, grace, and decorum. Congreve's love passages
can be graceful and dignified; he treats love with an objective rationalism
that is quite apart from the concept of lechery. His comedies are concerned, as
comedies have been through the ages, with love and money, frequently
complicated by parental opposition. His approach, however, is balanced: Love
without money would be a problem, but money without love, the cynic's aim, is
not the goal. Likewise, Congreve abhors the sentimental attitude that love will
result in the individuals' somehow being submerged in each other; he insists
that lovers preserve their integrity as individuals. Love is not metaphysical,
not sentimental, not a form of sacrifice. On the other hand, within this
context, it is not merely carnal nor a thinly disguised lust; it includes
trust, dignity, and mutual respect.
The
Problem of the Plot
Because
of its striking characterization and brilliant dialogue, The Way
of the World is
generally considered to be the finest example of Restoration comedy, as well as
one of the last. Nevertheless, it was not successful when it was first
presented in 1700. Although the English audiences, unlike the French, were
accustomed to plots and subplots and to a great deal of action in their plays,
they were confused by the amount of activity crammed into a single day. The
Way of the World had only a single action to which
everything was related, but it included a scheme, and a counterplot to
frustrate the scheme, and then moves to foil the counterplot. There were too
many episodes, events, reversals, and discoveries, most of them huddled in the
last acts, and they demanded too much of the audience. If the difficulty was
ever overcome in a performance, it was only when actors and director were
completely conscious of their problem.
Every
play must start, in the traditional phrase, in medias
res; that is, some events must have occurred
before the opening curtain. The devices, called exposition, used to inform the
audience or reader of these events could be as obvious as a character
addressing the audience directly, or could be an important part of the action,
as in Sophocles' Oedipus Rex or in
Ibsen's plays, or in Eugene O'Neill's Long Day's Journey into
Night. In Restoration drama, exposition was
usually straightforward; two characters might meet and gossip, or a man might
talk to a servant; but in The Way of the World, exposition
is highly ingenious and long withheld. In Act I, we are told that Mirabell is
in love and that there are obstacles to the courtship, but most of the
significant facts are hidden until Act II so that the first part of the play is
obscure. Then, just as Mirabell's scheme becomes clear, it loses significance,
for Fainall's counterplot becomes the machinery that moves the action forward.
It is, therefore, worthwhile to trace the story in chronological order.
Loose
Ends of the Plot
Although
there seems to be the usual happy ending to this comedy, The Way
of the World leaves a number of loose ends that add to the confusion.
It is
difficult to see where Mrs. Fainall's future is satisfactorily resolved. At one
point in Act V, she says that this is the end of her life with Fainall; that is
one comfort. But at the end of the play, it seems that she will continue to
live with Fainall in an obviously very awkward domestic situation.
It is
not clear that Fainall is completely foiled. He could still demand control of
Lady Wishfort's fortune or disgrace her daughter. Mirabell's statement that
"his circumstances are such, he [Fainall] must of force comply" is
hardly adequate.
Some
problems of motivation in the play are not clear. Why didn't Mirabell himself
marry Mrs. Fainall when she was a widow? Mirabell is not wealthy, and Mrs.
Fainall apparently inherited a considerable fortune from her first husband.
Is
the affair between Mirabell and Mrs. Fainall at an end? She married Fainall
only to forestall scandal if she became pregnant. If it is at an end, why has
it ceased? Why should she help Mirabell with his wooing of Millamant? Has he
perhaps convinced Mrs. Fainall that he is marrying Millamant for money?
Apparently
Mirabell had wanted to marry Millamant the year before, but the match was
forestalled by Mrs. Marwood's interference. Fainall suggests that, had they
married, Millamant would have lost half her fortune. Why then the elaborate
plot now, to save the 6,000 pounds that Mirabell was prepared to sacrifice
before?
There
no real answers to these questions. They seem to be loose ends that the
dramatist never bothered to tie together.
Themes in The Way of the World
The
precise statement of the theme of a work of art is always a little
unsatisfactory. The pithy sentence must omit a great deal; it always does
violence to the whole work. Nevertheless, it is worth making the effort to
determine a theme, or themes, in a play as a guide to study or analysis.
As a
point of departure, it is valid to say that the theme of this play is given us
by Congreve in the title, The Way of the World. All
the events and characters of the play can be related to this central theme. The
obvious criticism is that the same "theme" can be ascribed to
unlimited numbers of other, and quite different, novels and plays. Further,
Congreve does not, in this play, seem to take a consistent position. Sometimes
he is direct, sometimes ironic; sometimes he deplores, sometimes he approves;
at times he is amused; and most of the time his position is a compound of all of
these attitudes.
To
get a more satisfactory statement we might use a different approach that would
give a better sense of the texture of the play. Most Restoration playwrights
supplied their plays with alternate titles, or subtitles. Since Congreve did
not, we might seek for the different subtitles that are appropriate. Each one
would suggest a theme, although not the theme. These may put flesh on
the bare bones the title gives us.
Love
a la Mode
Certainly,
the play can be seen as a dramatic presentation of varieties of love in the England of the
year 1700. Central is the delicate handling of the love game as played by
Mirabell and Millamant. They represent the ideal of the Restoration attitude,
intense yet balanced, their love based on mutual esteem with no surrender of
individuality. Contrasted with it are Mirabell's earlier and quite ambiguous
love affair with Mrs. Fainall; the illicit love of Fainall and Mrs. Marwood,
presumably passionate, but wholly without mutual trust; the spurious court
young Witwoud pays to Millamant; the direct and somewhat coarse approach of Sir
Wilfull; and, at the opposite extreme completely, the aging and undignified
longings of Lady Wishfort, vain, unrealistic, over-eager, desperate, and a
little pathetic.
Love
and Money
Such
an approach is closely related to that of love a la mode, although they
are not identical. In the world whose way is presented here, love and money are
values to be taken into account at all times. The sincerity of Mirabell's love
does not make him lose sight of the importance of Millamant's fortune. Fainall
marries for money to support an illicit love; apparently the thought of
marrying Mrs. Marwood without adequate money (however "adequate"
might be defined) is unthinkable. Money is Lady Wishfort's sole hold over her
child and her ward. Even the marriage of the servants is built on a promise of
a handsome sum of money. This is the world's way. Love without money is an
impossible sentimental dream, although money often corrupts what love there is.
A
Gallery of Portraits
Congreve's
statements in the dedication, the prologue, and the epilogue suggest that this
might be a valid subtitle. Since it is the way of the world to put a premium on
youth, Mirabell and Millamant stand at the center, representing all that is to
be commended. Mirabell is the beau ideal: polished, poised, rational and
balanced, witty and perspicacious without being what we might today call
over-intellectual. Millamant is the belle: feminine, beautiful, witty, not
prudish, but with a sense of her own worth. She has avoided the messiness and
humiliation of sexual intrigue. Opposed to Mirabell are would-be wits, worthy
but graceless boors, and deep intriguers. Opposed to Millamant are women who
engaged in adultery and an old dowager without decorum. Every character reveals
himself in action, and together they produce a gallery of self-portraits.
Jungle
of High Intrigue
This
subtitle would focus attention on some of the values of London society. Everyone is engaged in
intrigue: Mirabell intrigues to gain consent to his marriage from Lady
Wishfort, and this involves intrigue within intrigue, for he does not trust
Waitwell. Fainall intrigues in turn. Everyone is involved in one or the other
of these schemes — Mrs. Fainall, Mrs. Marwood, and the servants. Even Lady
Wishfort in her willingness to marry Sir Rowland has a devious purpose —
revenge on Mirabell. When Mrs. Fainall married her husband, that was part of an
intrigue, as was his marriage to her. And as we see in the play, victory goes
to Mirabell, not because of his virtue, but simply because he is the most
successful intriguer.
Certainly
all these possible subtitles, rather than any one, add up to the ironic
commentary on society that is in the title, The Way of the World.
Style, Wit, and Irony in The Way of the World
In
the most common use of the word, style describes the author's use of language
within the shorter rhetorical units, the sentence or at most the paragraph. It
includes the choice of words and the rhythmic and musical quality of the
sentences. Since it also includes a discussion of the relations of language to
thought, fact, and reality, at some point it becomes identical with a
discussion of wit and irony.
If
irony is included in the discussion, then arbitrary limits must be set because
from some points of view, irony pervades The Way of the World. The title
is ironic; the action is ironic; the relationships of the characters to each
other are ironic. This section, however, is concerned only with irony as a
function of the speeches of characters, not as a function of plot or theme. It
is concerned with that kind of irony that is closely related to style and wit.
Congreve
avoids attempting any definition of wit, although, in the dedication, he
distinguishes between true wit and false wit, the latter a product of
affectation. Another comment of Congreve's on wit also casts some light on his
practice. In "Concerning Humour in Comedy," he writes:
Every
person in a comedy may be allowed to speak them [pleasant things]. From a witty
man they are expected and even a fool may be permitted to stumble on 'em by
chance. . . . I do not think that humourous characters exclude wit; no, but the
manner of wit should be adapted to the humour . . . ; a character of a
splenetic and peevish humour should have a satirical wit. A jolly and sanguine
humour should have a facetious wit.
In
practice, all of Congreve's characters speak "pleasant things." There
is not a speech that does not have its biting edge of wit, satire, or irony.
Discussions
of style and wit in a play are in some ways simple. Certain kinds of problems
do not have to be discussed since they do not exist. Unlike novels, plays have
no long passages of description which may or may not be well written; there are
no elaborate expositions of motives. There is no reason to consider whether the
author is inside his creatures' minds or external to them. The characters speak;
what they say can be examined. To talk of style or wit in a play is to talk of
the different styles and different kinds of wit of the characters.
Congreve
wrote so that his characters were sharply differentiated by their speech
patterns and their wit. As Congreve used style and wit as one of his ways of
characterization, the material in this section may be considered additional
data for study of the characters, collected here so that a rather technical
subject can be treated in one place.
Mirabell
Mirabell's
style is not an easy one. We do not feel that he is spontaneous, for his
periods are carefully prepared. The sentences are long, flowing, and
syntactically intricate. He indulges in no slang or canting expressions. While
he can be acid in his judgment, there is no vituperation in his speech. The
objects of his disapproval are so deftly lanced in his gracious phrases that
they can scarcely feel the knife.
Mirabell's
wit and irony are also intricate. His observations about others are shrewd,
including a mixture of distaste, tolerance, and amusement. Considerable irony
is also directed at himself. There is a strong element of self-criticism that
makes him a most unusual hero.
Any
number of speeches might serve to reveal these characteristics; this famous speech
from the first act about his feelings toward Millamant will do:
I'll
tell thee, Fainall, she once used me with that insolence, that in revenge I
took her to pieces, sifted her and separated her failings: I studied 'em, and
got 'em by rote. The catalogue was so large that I was not without hopes one
day or other to hate her heartily: to which end I so used myself to think of
'em, that at length, contrary to my design and expectation, they gave me every
hour less and less disturbance, till in a few days it became habitual to me to
remember 'em without being displeased. They are now grown as familiar to me as
my own frailties, and, in all probability, in a little time longer I shall like
'em as well.
The
characteristics can be seen: the long smooth passages (one might read aloud
from "to which end" to the end of the sentence), the real wit, the
clear vision of the object of the speech, and the wry ability to laugh at
himself.
Millamant
The
ultimate proof of the individuality of Millamant's style is in this — that to
read the passage aloud is immediately to sense the manner and mannerisms of the
character. She is flippant, delightfully spoiled, spirited. When, in the fourth
act, she reveals a depth that we might not have expected, that, too, is in the
style. Her speech in her first appearance is abrupt; she moves not so much from
one subject to another as from one feeling to another with an ability to turn
anything into wit.
Mrs.
Millamant: Oh, aye, letters: I had letters. I am persecuted with letters. I
hate letters. Nobody knows how to write letters; and yet one has 'em, one does
not know why. They serve one to pin up one's hair.
Witwoud:
Pray, madam, do you pin up your hair with all your letters?
Mrs.
Millamant: Only with those in verse, Mr. Witwoud; I never pin up my hair with
prose. I think I tried once, Mincing.
Mincing:
O mem, I shall never forget it.
After
a series of short, flippant statements, there comes an inspired thought: "They
serve one to pin up one's hair." She then pursues the train
of thought that this conceit suggests: "Only with those in
verse." It is incidentally pleasant that Mincing can pick up her cue
and proceed further.
The
passage "One makes lovers as fast as one pleases" is
similar, as is "Now I think on't, I'm angry. No, now I think on't, I'm
pleased; for I believe I gave you some pain!" The
style and wit are the character of Millamant.
In
the proviso scene, more serious in content, the pace changes. There is still a
teasing element, but there is less skipping from point to point. Millamant is
stating her conditions for marriage:
Trifles
— as liberty to pay and receive visits to and from whom I please; to write and
receive letters, without interrogatories or wry faces on your part; to wear
what I please, and choose conversation with regard only to my own taste; to
have no obligation upon me to converse with wits that I don't like, because
they are your acquaintance; or to be intimate with fools, because they may be
your relations. . . . These articles subscribed, if I continue to endure you a
little longer, I may by degrees dwindle into a wife.
Fainall
Fainall's
style and wit must be differentiated from Mirabell's. His sentences are not as
long or as contemplative as Mirabell's, and his wit is more direct and somewhat
crueler: "The coldness of a losing gamester lessens the pleasure of the
winner. I'd no more play with a man that slighted his ill fortune than I'd make
love to a woman that undervalued the loss of her reputation."
Perhaps because of the nature of his part, he is more abrupt in accusation, and
his lines may depend on a more obvious parallelism and antithesis: "Could
you think, because the nodding husband would not wake, that e'er the watchful
lover slept?" And he engages in a more direct attack: "Professed
a friendship! Oh, the pious friendships of the female sex!"
Young
Witwoud
Since
Congreve himself commented that readers and audience could not always
distinguish between Witwoud and his true wits, Witwoud's speeches demand
especially careful examination.
As
Witwoud has no function in the plot of the play, the purpose of his speeches is
to characterize him and to provide comedy. The key to his wit is the "similitude."
"Truce with your similitudes," says Millamant to
him. Each comparison may be clever by itself, amusing, unusual, a little
shocking, such as "Friendship without freedom is as dull as love without
enjoyment." The lines with which he interrupts Millamant in the second act
are each one a comparison, amusing or overburdened. The witticisms are forced;
they have been collected and memorized, and at need pulled out of his
conjurer's bag of tricks. Irony, if there is any here, is superficial; no one
of the witticisms has any particular point. Nor does young Witwoud even realize
it should.
Petulant
Petulant's
style and wit are included in his name. He has a humour to be angry — that is,
he is an example of Jonsonian humour, or, perhaps, he affects a humour.
Lady
Wishfort
Lady
Wishfort's style, like everything else about her, is of special interest. Her
manner is abrupt — a mirror of the arbitrary, petty tyrant she is. Like all
Congreve characters, she has, perhaps unconsciously, a fair amount of wit. More
than anything else in the play, her verbal attack on others is direct
vituperation-"Boudoir Billingsgate," in
Meredith's phrase. No unit of thought is longer than a few words. It is clear
that she shouts when annoyed or irritated, and she is always in a state of
annoyance:
No,
fool. Not the ratafia, fool. Grant me patience! I mean the Spanish paper,
idiot; complexion, darling. Paint, paint, paint! dost thou understand that,
changeling, dangling thy hands like bobbins before thee? Why does thou not
stir, puppet? thou wooden thing upon wires!
The
term irony has a different meaning when one is
discussing Lady Wishfort. It is true that she does indulge in heavy-handed
sarcasm, but the unconscious irony is more important. She responds to the
accidental images of words in ironical self-revelation. Foible reports that
Mirabell said he would "handle"
Lady Wishfort. "Handle me, would he durst!" she
cries, "such a foul-mouthed fellow." It
is clear what the word "handle"
means to her — and the reader may or may not catch the ambiguity of "would
he durst." Her speech as she repairs her face while waiting for Sir
Rowland is a group of short, flustered comments that constitute her regular
manner, an unconsciously ironic description of her hypocrisy:
In what
figure shall I give his heart the first impression? There is a great deal in
the first impression. Shall I sit? — No, I won't sit — I'll walk — aye, I'll
walk from the door upon his entrance; and then turn full upon him. — No, that
will be too sudden. I'll lie — aye, I'll lie down — I'll receive him in my
little dressing-room; there's a couch — yes, yes, I'll give the first
impression on a couch. — won't lie neither, but loll and lean upon one elbow,
with one foot a little dangling off, jogging in a thoughtful way — yes — and
then as soon as he appears, start, aye, start and be surprised, and rise to
meet him in a pretty disorder — yes — oh, nothing is more alluring than a levee
from a couch, in some confusion. — It shows the foot to advantage, and
furnishes with blushes, and recomposing airs beyond comparison.
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