William Congreve

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William Congreve (24 January 1670 – 19 January 1729) was an English playwright and poet.

Contents 1 Sourced 1.1 The Double Dealer (1694) 1.2 Love for Love (1695) 1.3 The Mourning Bride (1697) 1.4 The Way of the World (1700) 2 Attributed 3 External links

Sourced

• Ah! Whither, whither shall I fly,
  A poor unhappy Maid;
  To hopeless Love and Misery
  By my own Heart betray’d?
• Incognita: Or, Love and Duty Reconcil'd (1692)

• Eternity was in that moment.
  • The Old Bachelor, Act IV, sc. vii (1693)

• Married in haste, we may repent at liesure.
  • The Old Bachelor, Act V, sc. viii (1693)

• Careless she is with artful care,
  Affecting to seem unaffected.
  • Amoret

• Defer not till tomorrow to be wise,
  Tomorrow's sun to thee may never rise.
  • Letter to Cobham

The Double Dealer (1694)

• It is the business of a comic poet to paint the vices and follies of human kind.
  • Epistle dedicatory

• Retired to their tea and scandal, according to their ancient custom.
  • Act I, sc. i

• Though marriage makes man and wife one flesh, it leaves 'em still two fools.
  • Act II, sc. iii

• No mask like open truth to cover lies,
  As to go naked is the best disguise.
  • Act V, sc. iv

Love for Love (1695)

• Thou liar of the first magnitude.
  • Act II, sc. ii

• I warrant you, if he danced till doomsday, he thought I was to pay the piper.
  • Act II, sc. ii

• O fie, miss, you must not kiss and tell.
  • Act II, sc. x

• Women are like tricks by sleight of hand,
  Which, to admire, we should not understand.
  • Act IV, sc. iii

The Mourning Bride (1697)

• Musick has Charms to sooth a savage Breast,
  To soften Rocks, or bend a knotted Oak.
  I've read, that things inanimate have mov'd,
  And, as with living Souls, have been inform'd,
  By Magick Numbers and persuasive Sound.
  What then am I? Am I more senseless grown
  Than Trees, or Flint? O force of constant Woe!
  'Tis not in Harmony to calm my Griefs.
  Anselmo sleeps, and is at Peace; last Night
  The silent Tomb receiv'd the good Old King;
  He and his Sorrows now are safely lodg'd
  Within its cold, but hospitable Bosom.
  Why am not I at Peace?
  • Act I, sc. i
  • The first lines of this passage are often rendered in modern spelling as "Music has charms to soothe a savage breast", or misquoted as: "Music hath charms to soothe the savage beast."

• Vile and ingrate! too late thou shalt repent
  The base Injustice thou hast done my Love:
  Yes, thou shalt know, spite of thy past Distress,
  And all those Ills which thou so long hast mourn'd;
  Heav'n has no Rage, like Love to Hatred turn'd,
  Nor Hell a Fury, like a Woman scorn'd.
  • Act III, sc. viii
  • Often paraphrased: "Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned."

The Way of the World (1700)

• Love's but a frailty of the mind,
  When 'tis not with ambition joined.
  • Act III, sc. xii

• I nauseate walking; 'tis a country diversion, I loathe the country.
  • Act IV, sc. v

• Let us be very strange and well-bred:
  Let us be as strange as if we had been married a great while;
  And as well-bred as if we were not married at all.
  • Act IV, sc. v

• Thou art a retailer of phrases, and dost deal in remnants of remnants.
  • Act IV, sc. ix

• O, she is the antidote to desire.
  • Act IV, sc. xiv

Attributed

• Grief walks upon the heels of pleasure; married in haste, we repent at leisure.

• I find we are growing serious, and then we are in great danger of being dull.

• I know that's a secret, for it's whispered every where.

• If there's delight in love, 'Tis when I see that heart, which others bleed for, bleed for me.

• If this be not love, it is madness, and then it is pardonable.

• In my conscience I believe the baggage loves me, for she never speaks well of me herself, nor suffers any body else to rail at me.

• Invention flags, his brain goes muddy, and black despair succeeds brown study.

• Men are apt to offend ('tis true) where they find most goodness to forgive.

• Never go to bed angry, stay up and fight.

• Say what you will, 'tis better to be left than never to have been loved.

• They are at the end of the gallery; retired to their tea and scandal, according to their ancient custom.

• They come together like the Coroner's Inquest, to sit upon the murdered reputations of the week.

• 'Tis well enough for a servant to be bred at an University. But the education is a little too pedantic for a gentleman.

• Uncertainty and expectation are the joys of life. Security is an insipid thing.

External links

• Biography
• The Online Books Page (University of Pennsylvania)
• Works by William Congreve at Project Gutenberg

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pt:William Congreve