hining, rhyming, flattery, lying,
grinning, cringing, and the drudgery of loving to boot.... Every
man plays the fool once in his life, but to marry is to play the
fool all one's life long."

In Belinda we have a specimen of one of the fast young ladies of the
period, who certainly seems to have used strong language. She cries,

Oh, that most inhuman, barbarous, hackney-coach! I am jolted to a
jelly, am I not horridly touz'd?

She chides Belmour,

Prithee hold thy tongue! Lord! he has so pestered me with flowers
and stuff, I think I shan't endure the sight of a fire for a
twelvemonth.

_Belmour._ Yet all can't melt that cruel frozen heart.

_Bel._ O, gad! I hate your hideous fancy--you said that once
before--if you must talk impertinently, for Heaven's sake let it be
with variety; don't come always like the devil wrapped in flames.
I'll not hear a sentence more that begins with, "I burn," or an "I
beseech you, Madam."

At last she exclaims,

"O! my conscience! I could find in my heart to marry thee, purely
to be rid of thee."

There is frequently a conflict of wit. Sharper tells Sir Joseph Willot
that he lost many pounds, when he was defending him in a scuffle the
night before. He hopes he will repay him.

Money is but dirt, Sir Joseph; mere dirt, Sir Joseph.

_Sir Joseph._ But I profess 'tis a dirt I have washed my hands of
at present.

Lord Froth in "The Double Dealer" says,

There is nothing more unbecoming in a man of gravity than to laugh,
to be pleased with what pleases the crowd. When I laugh, I always
laugh alone.

_Brisk._ I suppose that's because you laugh at your own jests.

Sir Paul Plyant in great wroth expresses himself as follows:

The subjects of Congreve's Comedies would often be thought objectionable
at the present day. The humour is not in the plot, but in the general
dialogue. In "Love for Love," Ben Legend, a sailor, speaking of lawyers,
says--

Lawyer, I believe there's many a cranny and leak unstopt in your
conscience. If so be that one had a pump to your bosom, I believe
we should discern a foul hold. They say a witch will sail in a
sieve, but I believe the devil would not venture aboard your
conscience.

The last play he wrote, which failed, was deficient in wit, but had
plenty of inebriety in it. After singing a drinking song, Sir Wi