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    The Country Wife
    The Country Wife
    The Country Wife
    Ebook140 pages2 hours

    The Country Wife

    By William Wycherley

    3/5

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    About this ebook

    Originally performed and published in 1675, this five-act play parodies the vices and hypocrisies of Restoration London. The plot centers on the eponymous country wife, Margery, whose suspicious husband, Mr. Pinchwife, keeps her isolated. On a rare outing to the theater, Margery encounters the aptly named Mr. Horner. A notorious rake who feigns impotence to trick his way into the intimate company of married ladies, Horner soon schools Margery in the art of deception and realizes Pinchwife's worst fears.
    Bursting with racy dialog and bawdy humor, this comic masterpiece offers an enduring blend of cynicism, satire, and farce. The elegance of the play's construction and the glamour of its setting provide a piquant contrast to its earthy celebration of lust and human folly. The Country Wife has been periodically vilified for its immorality but remains ever popular for its lively characters, witty double entendres, and sophisticated drama.
    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherDover Publications
    Release dateJan 10, 2018
    ISBN9780486828176
    The Country Wife

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    Reviews for The Country Wife

    3/5

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    • 3/5
      The plot is virtually non-existent and that the play relies heavily upon sexual innuendo rather than wit. However, The Country Wife was meant to be performed rather than read. I went to see the play just after reading it and found it rather amusing.
    • 2/5
      Ahh...Restoration Comedy. Not exactly the highpoint of English literature. Although its influence on post-war British Cinema is hard to miss.Oo-er Matron!
    • 4/5
      The Country Wife was considered fairly shocking when it was written in the fairly laid back 1670's, and between 1753 and 1924 was considered too scandalous to be performed at all. Mr Horner, a notorious rake, returns from France with a new scheme to seduce the ladies of quality of London. By paying a quack doctor to spread the rumour that he is completely impotent, he calculates that he will be allowed access to the wives and daughters that are usually kept closely chaperoned around him. This could be seen as a very predatory scheme, but the truth is that the wives and daughters are equally as ready to be seduced, as he is to do the seducing, as long as the pretence of Horner's impotency protects them from any suspicion of wrongdoing. Into this mix comes the newly married Pinchwife, who has married Marjory, the 'Country Wife' of the title, choosing an unsophisticated girl from the country expecting that she will be much more faithful and biddable than the sophisticated wives of his friends. But Marjory is very keen to experience everything that the big city has to offer ...It's always difficult to properly assess a play by reading but I can see that a production of The Country Wife could be very funny indeed!
    • 3/5
      While this play was interesting in terms of context, I really didn't find it amusing or even very interesting. The action didn't really seem to go anywhere. It was a just a series of "near misses" in terms of the characters almost getting caught doing immoral things. I don't find the topic of "cuckolds" all that funny. The play was definitely witty and there was plenty of sarcastic irony, but for all that, I didn't much enjoy it.

    Book preview

    The Country Wife - William Wycherley

    SCENE—London

    Indignior quicquam reprehendi, non quia crassè

    Compositum illepideve putetur, sed quia nuper:

    Nec veniam Antiquis, sed honorem & prœmia posci.

    HORAT.¹

    PROLOGUE

    Spoken by MR. HORNER

    Poets, like cudgell’d bullies, never do

    At first or second blow submit to you;

    But will provoke you still, and ne’er have done,

    Till you are weary first with laying on.

    The late so baffled scribbler of this day,

    Though he stands trembling, bids me boldly say,

    What we before most plays are us’d to do,

    For poets out of fear first draw on you;

    In a fierce prologue the still pit defy,

    And, ere you speak, like Castril give the lie.

    But though our Bayes’s battles oft I’ve fought,

    And with bruis’d knuckles their dear conquests bought;

    Nay, never yet fear’d odds upon the stage,

    In prologue dare not hector with the age,

    But would take quarter from your saving hands,

    Though Bayes within all yielding countermands,

    Says you confed’rate wits no quarter give,

    Therefore his play shan’t ask your leave to live.

    Well, let the vain rash fop, by huffing so,

    Think to obtain the better terms of you;

    But we, the actors, humbly will submit,

    Now, and at any time, to a full pit;

    Nay, often we anticipate your rage,

    And murder poets for you on our stage:

    We set no guards upon our tiring-room,

    But when with flying colours there you come,

    We patiently, you see, give up to you

    Our poets, virgins, nay, our matrons too.

    ¹I hate to see something criticized not on the grounds that it is clumsy and inelegant, but simply because it is modern. I hate to see people demand not merely indulgence for the older writers, but the actual prerogative of idolatry.—Horace, Epistles, 1, 1, 76-78.

    ACT I

    Enter HORNER, and QUACK following him at a distance

    HORN, [aside] A quack is as fit for a pimp as a midwife for a bawd; they are still but in their way, both helpers of nature.——[aloud]. Well, my dear Doctor, hast thou done what I desired?

    QUACK. I have undone you for ever with the women, and reported you throughout the whole town as bad as an eunuch, with as much trouble as if I had made you one in earnest.

    HORN. But have you told all the midwives you know, the orange wenches at the playhouses, the city husbands, and old fumbling keepers of this end of the town, for they’ll be the readiest to report it?

    QUACK. I have told all the chambermaids, waiting-women, tirewomen, and old women of my acquaintance; nay, and whispered it as a secret to ’em, and to the whisperers of Whitehall;so that you need not doubt ‘twill spread, and you will be as odious to the handsome young women as——

    HORN. As the small-pox. Well——

    QUACK. And to the married women of this end of the town, as——

    HORN. As the great ones; nay, as their own husbands.

    QUACK. And to the city dames, as aniseed Robin, of filthy and contemptible memory; and they will frighten their children with your name, especially their females.

    HORN. And cry, Horner’s coming to carry you away. I am only afraid ‘twill not be believed. You told ’em ‘twas by an English-French disaster, and an English-French chirurgeon, who has given me at once not only a cure, but an antidote for the future against that damned malady, and that worse distemper, love, and all other women’s evils?

    QUACK. Your late journey into France has made it the more credible, and your being here a fortnight before you appeared in public looks as if you apprehended the shame, which I wonder you do not. Well, I have been hired by young gallants to belie ’em t’other way, but you are the first would be thought a man unfit for women.

    HORN. Dear Mr. Doctor, let vain rogues be contented only to be thought abler men than they are; generally ’tis all the pleasure they have, but mine lies another way.

    QUACK. You take, methinks, a very preposterous way to it, and as ridiculous as if we operators in physic should put forth bills to disparage our medicaments, with hopes to gain customers.

    HORN. Doctor, there are quacks in love as well as physic, who get but the fewer and worse patients for their boasting; a good name is seldom got by giving it one’s self; and women no more than honour are compassed by bragging. Come, come, Doctor, the wisest lawyer never discovers the merits of his cause till the trial; the wealthiest man conceals his riches, and the cunning gamester his play. Shy husbands and keepers, like old rooks, are not to be cheated but by a new unpractised trick: false friendship will pass now no more than false dice upon ’em; no, not in the city.

    Enter Boy

    BOY. There are two ladies and a gentleman coming up.[exit]

    HORN. A pox! some unbelieving sisters of my former acquaintance, who, I am afraid, expect their sense should be satisfied of the falsity of thereport. No—this formal fool and women!

    Enter SIR JASPER FIDGET, LADY FIDGET, and MRS. DAINTY FIDGET

    QUACK. His wife and sister.

    SIR JASP. My coach breaking just now before your door, Sir, I look upon as an occasional reprimand to me, Sir, for not kissing your hands, Sir, since your coming out of France, Sir; and so my disaster, Sir, has been my good fortune, Sir; and this is my wife and sister, Sir.

    HORN. What then, Sir?

    SIR JASP. My lady, and sister, Sir.—Wife, this is Master Horner.

    LADY FID. Master Horner, husband!

    SIR JASP. My lady, my Lady Fidget, Sir.

    HORN. So, Sir.

    SIR JASP. Won’t you be acquainted with her, Sir?—[aside] So, the report is true, 1 find, by his coldness or aversion to the sex; but I’ll play the wag with him.—Pray salute my wife, my lady, Sir.

    HORN. I will kiss no man’s wife, Sir, for him, Sir; I have taken my eternal leave, Sir, of the sex already, Sir.

    SIR JASP. [aside] Ha! ha! ha! I’ll plague him yet. Not know my wife, Sir?

    HORN. I do not know your wife, Sir; she’s a woman, Sir, and consequently a monster, Sir, a greater monster than a husband, Sir.

    Sir JASP. A husband! how, Sir?

    HORN. So, Sir; but I make no more cuckolds, Sir. [makes horns]

    SIR JASP. Ha! ha! ha! Mercury! Mercury!

    LADY FID Pray, Sir Jasper, let us be gone from this rude fellow.

    MRS. DAIN. Who, by his breeding, would think he had ever been in France?

    LADY FID. Foh! he’s but too much a French fellow, such as hate women of quality and virtue for their love to their husbands, Sir Jasper; a woman is hated by ’em as much for loving her husband as for loving their money. But pray, let’s be gone.

    HORN. You do well, Madam, for I have nothing that you came for: I have brought over not so much as a bawdy picture, no new postures, nor the second part of the Escole des Filles; nor————

    QUACK, [apart to HORNER] Hold, for shame, Sir! what d’ye mean?

    You will ruin yourself for ever with the sex——

    SIR JASP. Ha! ha! ha! he hates women perfectly, I find.

    MRS. DAIN. What pity ’tis he should!

    LADY FID. Ay, he’s a base fellow for’t. But affectation makes not a woman more odious to them than virtue.

    HORN. Because your virtue is your greatest affectation, Madam.

    LADY FID. How, you saucy fellow! would you wrong my honour?

    HORN. If I could.

    LADY FID. How d’ye mean, Sir?

    SIR JASP. Ha! ha! ha! no, he can’t wrong your Ladyship’s honour, upon my honour; he, poor man—hark you in your ear—a mere eunuch.

    LADY FID. O filthy French beast! foh! foh! why do we stay? let’s be gone: I can’t endure the sight of him.

    SIR JASP.Stay but till the chairs come; they’ll be here presently.

    LADY FID. No, no.

    SIR JASP. Nor can I stay longer. "Tis—let me see, a quarter and a half quarter of a minute past eleven. The council will be sat; I must away. Business must be preferred always before love and ceremony with the wise, Mr. Horner.

    HORN. And the impotent, Sir Jasper.

    SIR JASP. Ay, ay, the impotent, Master Horner; ha! ha! ha!

    LADY FID. What, leave us with a filthy man alone in his lodgings?

    SIR JASP. He’s an innocent man now, you know. Pray stay, I’ll hasten the chairs to you.——Mr. Horner, your servant; I should be glad to see you at my house. Pray come and dine with me, and play at cards with my wife after dinner; you are fit for women at that game yet, ha! ha!—[aside] ’tis as much a husband’s prudence to provide innocent diversion for a wife as to hinder her unlawful pleasures; and he had better employ her than let her employ herself——Farewell.

    HORN. Your servant, Sir Jasper. [exit SIR JASPER]

    LADY FID. I will not stay with him, foh!——

    HORN. Nay Madam, I beseech you stay, if it be but to see I can be as civil to ladies yet as they would desire.

    LADY FID. No, no, foh! you cannot be civil to ladies.

    MRS. DAIN. You as civil as ladies would desire?

    LADY FID. No, no, no, foh! foh! foh!

    [exeunt LADY FIDGET and MRS. DAINTY FIDGET]

    QUACK. Now, I think, I, or you yourself, rather, have done your business with the women.

    HORN. Thou art an ass. Don’t you see already, upon the report and my carriage, this grave man of business leaves his wife in my lodgings, invites me to his house and wife, who before would not be acquainted with me out of jealousy?

    QUACK. Nay, by this means you may be the more acquainted with the husbands, but the less with the wives.

    HORN. Let me alone; if I can but abuse the husbands, I’ll soon disabuse the wives. Stay—I’ll reckon

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