William Congreve

William Congreve

Summary

Portrait of William Congreve William Congreve Love for Love — Act I

VALENTINE, SCANDAL, JEREMY.
SCAN. What, Jeremy holding forth?
VAL. The rogue has (with all the wit he could muster up) been declaiming against wit.
SCAN. Ay? Why, then, I'm afraid Jeremy has wit: for wherever it is, it's always contriving its own ruin.
JERE. Why, so I have been telling my master, sir: Mr Scandal, for heaven's sake, sir, try if you can dissuade him from turning poet.
SCAN. Poet! He shall turn soldier first, and rather depend upon the outside of his head than the lining. Why, what the devil, has not your poverty made you enemies enough? Must you needs shew your wit to get more?
Source: Wikisource

Portrait of William Congreve William Congreve Love for Love — Act I

MRS FRAIL. I shall get a fine reputation by coming to see fellows in a morning. Scandal, you devil, are you here too? Oh, Mr Tattle, everything is safe with you, we know.
SCAN. Tattle -
TATT. Mum. O madam, you do me too much honour.
VAL. Well, Lady Galloper, how does Angelica?
MRS FRAIL. Angelica? Manners!
VAL. What, you will allow an absent lover -
MRS FRAIL. No, I'll allow a lover present with his mistress to be particular; but otherwise, I think his passion ought to give place to his manners.
VAL. But what if he has more passion than manners?
Source: Wikisource

Portrait of William Congreve William Congreve Love for Love — Act I

For my part, I never sit at the door that I don't get double the stomach that I do at a horse race. The air upon Banstead-Downs is nothing to it for a whetter; yet I never see it, but the spirit of famine appears to me, sometimes like a decayed porter, worn out with pimping, and carrying billet doux and songs: not like other porters, for hire, but for the jests' sake. Now like a thin chairman, melted down to half his proportion, with carrying a poet upon tick, to visit some great fortune
Source: Wikisource

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