The Way of the World

by William Congreve
Audire est operae pretium, prcedere recte

Qui maechis non vultis.--HOR. Sat. i. 2, 37.
- Metuat doti deprensa.--Ibid.

TO THE RIGHT HONOURABLE RALPH, EARL OF MOUNTAGUE, ETC.
My Lord,--Whether the world will arraign me of vanity or not, that I

have presumed to dedicate this comedy to your lordship, I am yet in
doubt; though, it may be, it is some degree of vanity even to doubt

of it. One who has at any time had the honour of your lordship's
conversation, cannot be supposed to think very meanly of that which

he would prefer to your perusal. Yet it were to incur the
imputation of too much sufficiency to pretend to such a merit as

might abide the test of your lordship's censure.
Whatever value may be wanting to this play while yet it is mine,

will be sufficiently made up to it when it is once become your
lordship's; and it is my security, that I cannot have overrated it

more by my dedication than your lordship will dignify it by your
patronage.

That it succeeded on the stage was almost beyond my expectation; for
but little of it was prepared for that general taste which seems now

to be predominant in the palates of our audience.
Those characters which are meant to be ridiculed in most of our

comedies are of fools so gross, that in my humble opinion they
should rather disturb than divert the well-natured and reflecting

part of an audience; they are rather objects of charity than
contempt, and instead of moving our mirth, they ought very often to

excite our compassion.
This reflection moved me to design some characters which should

appear ridiculous not so much through a natural folly (which is
incorrigible, and therefore not proper for the stage) as through an

affected" target="_blank" title="a.做作的；假装的">affected wit: a wit which, at the same time that it is affected" target="_blank" title="a.做作的；假装的">affected, is
also false. As there is some difficulty in the formation of a

character of this nature, so there is some hazard which attends the
progress of its success upon the stage: for many come to a play so

overcharged with criticism, that they very often let fly their
censure, when through their rashness they have mistaken their aim.

This I had occasion lately to observe: for this play had been acted
two or three days before some of these hasty judges could find the

leisure to distinguish betwixt the character of a Witwoud and a
Truewit.

I must beg your lordship's pardon for this digression from the true
course of this epistle; but that it may not seem altogether

impertinent, I beg that I may plead the occasion of it, in part of
that excuse of which I stand in need, for recommending this comedy

to your protection. It is only by the countenance of your lordship,
and the FEW so qualified, that such who write with care and pains

can hope to be distinguished: for the prostituted name of poet
promiscuously levels all that bear it.

Terence, the most correct writer in the world, had a Scipio and a
Lelius, if not to assist him, at least to support him in his

reputation. And notwithstanding his extraordinary merit, it may be
their countenance was not more than necessary.

The purity of his style, the delicacy of his turns, and the justness
of his characters, were all of them beauties which the greater part

of his audience were incapable of tasting. Some of the coarsest
strokes of Plautus, so severely censured by Horace, were more likely

to affect the multitude; such, who come with expectation to laugh at
the last act of a play, and are better entertained with two or three

unseasonable jests than with the artful solution of the fable.
As Terence excelled in his performances, so had he great advantages

to encourage his undertakings, for he built most on the foundations
of Menander: his plots were generally modelled, and his characters

ready drawn to his hand. He copied Menander; and Menander had no
less light in the formation of his characters from the observations

of Theophrastus, of whom he was a disciple; and Theophrastus, it is
known, was not only the disciple, but the immediate successor of

Aristotle, the first and greatest judge of poetry. These were great
models to design by; and the further advantage which Terence

possessed towards giving his plays the due ornaments of purity of
style, and justness of manners, was not less considerable from the

freedom of conversation which was permitted him with Lelius and
Scipio, two of the greatest and most polite men of his age. And,

indeed, the privilege of such a conversation is the only certain
means of attaining to the perfection of dialogue.

If it has happened in any part of this comedy that I have gained a
turn of style or expression more correct, or at least more

corrigible, than in those which I have formerly written, I must,
with equal pride and gratitude, ascribe it to the honour of your

lordship's admitting me into your conversation, and that of a
society where everybody else was so well worthy of you, in your

retirement last summer from the town: for it was immediately after,
that this comedy was written. If I have failed in my performance,

it is only to be regretted, where there were so many not inferior
either to a Scipio or a Lelius, that there should be one wanting

equal in capacity to a Terence.
If I am not mistaken, poetry is almost the only art which has not

yet laid claim to your lordship's patronage. Architecture and
painting, to the great honour of our country, have flourished under

your influence and protection. In the meantime, poetry, the eldest
sister of all arts, and parent of most, seems to have resigned her

birthright, by having neglected to pay her duty to your lordship,
and by permitting others of a later extraction to prepossess that

place in your esteem, to which none can pretend a better title.
Poetry, in its nature, is sacred to the good and great: the

relation between them is reciprocal, and they are ever propitious to
it. It is the privilege of poetry to address them, and it is their

prerogative alone to give it protection.
This received maxim is a general apology for all writers who

consecrate their labours to great men: but I could wish, at this
time, that this address were exempted from the common pretence of

all dedications; and that as I can distinguish your lordship even
among the most deserving, so this offering might become remarkable

by some particular instance of respect, which should assure your
lordship that I am, with all due sense of your extreme worthiness

and humanity, my lord, your lordship's most obedient and most
obliged humble servant,

WILL. CONGREVE.
PROLOGUE--Spoken by Mr. Betterton.

Of those few fools, who with ill stars are curst,
Sure scribbling fools, called poets, fare the worst:

For they're a sort of fools which fortune makes,
And, after she has made 'em fools, forsakes.

With Nature's oafs 'tis quite a diff'rent case,
For Fortune favours all her idiot race.

In her own nest the cuckoo eggs we find,
O'er which she broods to hatch the changeling kind:

No portion for her own she has to spare,
So much she dotes on her adopted care.

Poets are bubbles, by the town drawn in,
Suffered at first some trifling stakes to win:

But what unequalhazards do they run!
Each time they write they venture all they've won:

The Squire that's buttered still, is sure to be undone.
This author, heretofore, has found your favour,

But pleads no merit from his past behaviour.
To build on that might prove a vain presumption,

Should grants to poets made admit resumption,
And in Parnassus he must lose his seat,

If that be found a forfeited estate.
He owns, with toil he wrought the following scenes,

But if they're naught ne'er spare him for his pains:
Damn him the more; have no commiseration

For dulness on mature deliberation.
He swears he'll not resent one hissed-off scene,