The Country Wife William Wycherley (best classic books to read .txt) 📖

a fool that marries; but he’s a greater that does not marry a fool. What is wit in a wife good for, but to make a man a cuckold? Horner Yes, to keep it from his knowledge. Pinchwife A fool cannot contrive to make her husband a cuckold. Horner No; but she’ll club with a man that can: and what is worse, if she cannot make her husband a cuckold, she’ll make him jealous, and pass for one: and then ’tis all one. Pinchwife Well, well, I’ll take care for one. My wife shall make me no cuckold, though she had your help, Mr. Horner. I understand the town, sir. Dorilant His help! Aside. Harcourt He’s come newly to town, it seems, and has not heard how things are with him. Aside. Horner But tell me, has marriage cured thee of whoring, which it seldom does? Harcourt ’Tis more than age can do. Horner No, the word is, I’ll marry and live honest: but a marriage vow is like a penitent gamester’s oath, and entering into bonds and penalties to stint himself to such a particular small sum at play for the future, which makes him but the more eager; and not being able to hold out, loses his money again, and his forfeit to boot. Dorilant Ay, ay, a gamester will be a gamester whilst his money lasts, and a whoremaster whilst his vigour. Harcourt Nay, I have known ’em, when they are broke, and can lose no more, keep a fumbling with the box in their hands to fool with only, and hinder other gamesters. Dorilant That had wherewithal to make lusty stakes. Pinchwife Well, gentlemen, you may laugh at me; but you shall never lie with my wife: I know the town. Horner But prithee, was not the way you were in better? is not keeping better than marriage? Pinchwife A pox on’t! the jades would jilt me, I could never keep a whore to myself. Horner So, then you only married to keep a whore to yourself. Well, but let me tell you, women, as you say, are like soldiers, made constant and loyal by good pay, rather than by oaths and covenants. Therefore I’d advise my friends to keep rather than marry, since too I find, by your example, it does not serve one’s turn; for I saw you yesterday in the eighteenpenny place with a pretty country-wench. Pinchwife How the devil! did he see my wife then? I sat there that she might not be seen. But she shall never go to a play again. Aside. Horner What! dost thou blush, at nine-and-forty, for having been seen with a wench? Dorilant No, faith, I warrant ’twas his wife, which he seated there out of sight; for he’s a cunning rogue, and understands the town. Harcourt He blushes. Then ’twas his wife; for men are now more ashamed to be seen with them in public than with a wench. Pinchwife Hell and damnation! I’m undone, since Horner has seen her, and they know ’twas she. Aside. Horner But prithee, was it thy wife? She was exceeding pretty: I was in love with her at that distance. Pinchwife You are like never to be nearer to her. Your servant, gentlemen. Offers to go. Horner Nay, prithee stay. Pinchwife I cannot; I will not. Horner Come, you shall dine with us. Pinchwife I have dined already. Horner Come, I know thou hast not: I’ll treat thee, dear rogue; thou sha’t spend none of thy Hampshire money today. Pinchwife Treat me! So, he uses me already like his cuckold. Aside. Horner Nay, you shall not go. Pinchwife I must; I have business at home. Exit. Harcourt To beat his wife. He’s as jealous of her, as a Cheapside husband of a Covent-garden wife. Horner

Why, ’tis as hard to find an old whoremaster without jealousy and the gout, as a young one without fear, or the pox:⁠—

As gout in age from pox in youth proceeds,
So wenching past, then jealousy succeeds;
The worst disease that love and wenching breeds.

Exeunt. Act II Scene I

A room in Pinchwife’s house.

Mrs. Margery Pinchwife and Alithea. Pinchwife peeping behind at the door. Mrs. Pinchwife Pray, sister, where are the best fields and woods to walk in, in London? Alithea Aside. A pretty question!⁠—Aloud. Why, sister, Mulberry-garden and St. James’s park; and, for close walks, the New Exchange.6 Mrs. Pinchwife Pray, sister, tell me why my husband looks so grum here in town, and keeps me up so close, and will not let me go a-walking, nor let me wear my best gown yesterday. Alithea O, he’s jealous, sister. Mrs. Pinchwife Jealous! what’s that? Alithea He’s afraid you should love another man. Mrs. Pinchwife How should he be afraid of my loving another man, when he will not let me see any but himself? Alithea Did he not carry you yesterday to a play? Mrs. Pinchwife Ay; but we sat amongst ugly people. He would not let me come near the gentry, who sat under us, so that I could not see ’em. He told me, none but naughty women sat there, whom they toused and moused. But I would have ventured, for all that. Alithea But how did you like the play? Mrs. Pinchwife Indeed I was weary of the play; but I liked hugeously the actors. They are the goodliest, properest men, sister! Alithea O, but you must not like the actors, sister. Mrs. Pinchwife Ay, how should I help it, sister? Pray, sister, when my husband comes in, will you ask leave for me to go a-walking? Alithea A-walking! ha! ha! Lord, a country-gentlewoman’s pleasure is the drudgery of a footpost; and she requires as much airing as her husband’s horses.⁠—Aside. But here comes your husband: I’ll ask, though I’m sure he’ll not grant it. Mrs. Pinchwife He says he won’t let me go abroad for fear of catching the pox. Alithea Fy! the smallpox you should say. Enter Pinchwife. Mrs. Pinchwife O my dear, dear bud, welcome home! Why dost thou look so fropish? who has nangered thee? Pinchwife You’re a fool. Mrs. Pinchwife goes aside, and cries. Alithea Faith, so she is, for crying