William Wycherley [Four Plays] — Inside the Classic

The Architecture of Insult

Wycherley's insults are carefully constructed, often using comparison to deflate pretension. In the excerpt, Horner dismisses a fool as 'one of those nauseous offerers at wit, who, like the worst fiddlers, run themselves into all companies.' The simile is precise: the fiddler is unwanted, intrusive, and untalented. Dorilant continues the metaphor, calling such wits 'rooks to the gamesters; who only fill a room at the table, but are so far from contributing to the play, that they only serve to spoil the fancy of those that do.' The language is technical (rooks, gamesters, play) and the insult is layered: the fool is not just annoying but actively destructive. This is not casual name-calling; it is a verbal duel where every blow is calculated.

Women as Objects of Exchange

The dialogue reveals a worldview where women are commodities to be traded, used, or discarded. Harcourt compares mistresses to books: 'If you pore upon them too much, they doze you, and make you unfit for company; but if used discreetly, you are the fitter for conversation by 'em.' Dorilant extends the metaphor: 'A mistress should be like a little country retreat near the town; not to dwell in constantly, but only for a night and away.' The language is detached, almost clinical. Women are not partners but accessories to male pleasure. Even when Horner claims to reject women for 'glorious manly pleasures,' the terms of debate remain the same: women are a choice, like wine or money, to be weighed and compared. The emotional emptiness of these characters is masked by the brilliance of their wit.

Theatricality and Self-Awareness

Wycherley's characters are acutely aware of themselves as performers. In the excerpt, Horner boasts of his 'theatrical impudence,' and the dialogue is filled with references to plays, actors, and audiences. Dorilant mocks 'a great-bellied actress' and 'an ill poet' as the most impudent of creatures. The characters watch each other watch them; they are both actors and critics. This self-consciousness extends to the structure of the dialogue itself, which often feels like a series of set pieces. The debate between Horner, Harcourt, and Dorilant is a formal disputation, with each speaker taking a turn to argue a point. The wit is not spontaneous but rehearsed, a performance of intelligence designed to impress both the onstage audience and the theatergoers.

The Limits of Satire

Wycherley's satire is pointed but limited in scope. The excerpt attacks fools, rakes, and women, but never questions the social order that produces them. The characters are all members of the same class, and their vices are treated as amusing rather than dangerous. Horner's misogyny is presented as witty banter, not as a moral failing. The editor's introduction notes that Wycherley's comedies are 'but half characters,' and the dialogue bears this out: the characters are types, not individuals. Their conversations are entertaining but shallow, revealing nothing about their inner lives. The reader is left with a sense of the emptiness beneath the glittering surface. Wycherley's world is one where wit is the only currency, and sincerity is a fool's game.

This edition collects four of Wycherley's plays, each a variation on the themes of love, money, and social climbing. The reader should approach them as performances, not as realistic portraits. Pay attention to the rhythm of the dialogue, the way characters interrupt and complete each other's thoughts. Notice how often the same metaphors recur—books, games, animals—and how they reveal the characters' limited worldview. Wycherley's comedy is brittle, cynical, and often uncomfortable, but it offers a sharp-eyed view of a society that valued wit above all else.

In Wycherley’s comedies, every word is a duel, wit honed to a blade—yet I often think how the crowds he mocked once found their truer home in the pageantry of old scaffolds and mystery plays. There is a quiet kinship there, in The mediaeval stage, volume 1 (of 2) — A Reader’s Guide, where laughter and ritual still breathe together, uncynical, before the sharpening began.