SOURCE: Carpenter, William E. Introduction to Thomas D'Urfey's The Virtuous Wife: A Critical Edition, edited by William E. Carpenter, pp. 17-34. New York: Garland Publishing, 1987.

[In the following excerpt, Carpenter explores several of Durfey's comedies.]

COMEDIES WRITTEN BEFORE 1680

D'Urfey's first comedy, Madam Fickle: Or, The Witty False One (November 1676),¹ is an amusing play in which Madam Fickle, a supposed widow, is besieged by three suitors anxious to wed such a lovely and rich lady. The plot builds around Madam's witty tricks to tease, lead on, yet elude the suitors, while keeping each ignorant of the existence of his rivals. Actually, Madam's husband (Dorrel) is not dead, but after a long exile has returned in disguise and has taken service with his wife where he can observe her actions and determine her character. He helps her cope with the suitors and finally, satisfied as to her fidelity and virtue, reveals his identity and claims her.

Although the main plot of this play has slightly sentimental overtones—Madam is, in strict terms, a faithful wife—its general effect is not sentimental. Madam's actions are based on revenge and nothing more. “I lov'd, and was betray'd,” she laments, “and for this cause swore a Revenge on all that should love me” (V,iii, p. 64). This is not a “characteristic pose” of a sentimental heroine. The betrayer was, of course, Madam's husband who left her immediately after their marriage because he could not believe that any wife could remain virtuous long. When, however, he learns of Madam's goodness, he repents his suspicious, jealous nature. As he takes off the disguise of a servant, he utters this plea: “Consider humane fraility, and forgive my Crime of too much Jealousie” (V,iii, p. 64). Although he resembles the stock penitents of later comedy, unlike them Dorrel has not lived a debauched, profligate life; he has only doubted his wife. Had D'Urfey shifted his emphasis from Madam's tricks to her suffering and goodness, this would have been a thoroughly sentimental play. It contains the germ.

But on balance Madam Fickle must be viewed primarily as a Restoration comedy of wit, despite its similarity to later plays such as Cibber's Love's Last Shift. Country bumpkins who would be fops, and fops who would be wits, parade through many scenes, calling attention to their ostentatious attire, their false wit, their raillery, and their ludicrous attempts at wenching. They speak often of la Mode. Zechial, a newly-minted fop, says to his brother Toby, who has just come from the country to the city (a frequent Restoration motif), “I'le teach thee within this three days to be a Man of Mode; and thou shalt talk, and roar, and fight, and sing ever with the best, nay Cocks of all the Bullies. I'le teach thee the most new and dextrous way of picking Wenches up” (I,i, p. 9). Needless to say, these brothers are as unsuccessful in their sexual intrigues as Sir Fopling Flutter, of whom they are but pale copies, is in his. In addition to these Restoration types, the play contains other Restoration comic situations and conventions: masked ladies meet their beaux in Covent Garden; a Shadwellian virtuoso collects such antiquities as a vial of St. Jerome's tears; and characters joke of cuckolding. “There's one thing more, there's a certain Fate attends Marriage—Horns, Sir; are you not afraid of being a Cuckold?” (I,i, p. 5) asks a young lady of fashion. The play lacks, however, a gay couple. It has no such couple because the young men of the play cannot match wits with the women, especially with Madam Fickle. She controls the action and the male characters. Her only rival is another female, Constantia, who attempts to undermine Madam's schemes by exposing Madam's fickleness to the suitors. Significantly, Constantia acts not so much out of malice as out of love for one of the suitors, Manly; she is, as her name suggests, the constant lover, and she is rewarded at the end of the play when Madam is reunited with her husband and Manly suddenly realizes that he has loved Constantia all along without knowing it.

As we shall see, witty, strong-willed, intelligent heroines appear frequently in D'Urfey's comedies. Madam Fickle and Constantia are but first of a line of self-sufficient, basically “good” or moral women.

D'Urfey's next comedy, The Fool Turned Critic (also November 1676),² is “a satire on playhouse critics and pretended townwits,”³ and another Restoration comedy about “the mode” and how to abuse it. In one plot Old Winelove hires Smallwit to teach his son Tim Winelove to be a “Modish follower of the times” (I,ii, p. 5). Old Winelove enumerates the virtues of a modish fellow in jerky, inflated feet:

                                                                                                              I would have him
Learn how to Court his Mistress, huff a Rival
That crosses his designs, quarrel with Bullies,
And pick up a Wench with alacrity.
Then to see Plays, and how to strut i' th Pit,
Manage his Combe, swear modishly Gad dame;
Talk aloud, to make his parts be noted.

(I,ii, p. 4)

Most of the humor springs from Tim's rise from simple youth to mature fophood. Actually, D'Urfey's satire on fops and witwouds is most amusing and quite incisive.

Like most of D'Urfey's comedies this one is filled with plots, counterplots, eavesdropping, disguises, and mistaken identities. But it has no sentimental love interest. On the contrary, at the end of the play the witty lovers, Frank Amorous and Lucia, are left unmarried, with no hint given of what will happen later. The only valid marriage is the one between Tim, who has become a supercilious fop, and Betty, a servant passed off on him as an heiress—a kind of poetic justice. So with its emphasis on true and false wit, on breaches of a sophisticated code of manners, with a witty couple at its center, The Fool Turned Critic must be classified as a rather conventional play of the Etheregean type.

D'Urfey's next comedy, A Fond Husband: Or, The Plotting Sisters (May 1677),⁴ demonstrates his maladroit handling of the Restoration cuckolding plot similar to that perfected by Wycherley in The Country Wife. D'Urfey's play was a huge success despite its obvious weaknesses and was later revived for a benefit performance sponsored by Addison and Steele. D'Urfey's comedy is not richly thematic or harshly satiric as is Wycherley's, but it is important in that it shows his attitude to such materials in 1677, only two years before he was to write The Virtuous Wife.

The highly repetitious plot of A Fond Husband can be summarized as follows:

Emilia, wife of the “fond” (credulous) husband, loves Rashley, a clever, handsome rake, because, as she admits in rather typical Restoration fashion, “A Husband is a dull insipid thing, pall'd and grown stale within a week: But a Lover appears still new and gay, and is to perpetuity the same he was at first,—all mirth,—all pleasure” (IV,iv, p. 43). To be near Emilia so that he can conveniently return (or enjoy) her love, Rashley pretends to have a mistress in the neighborhood where Bubble lives. As a result of frequent meetings, Bubble becomes so fond of Rashley that he asks him to lodge at his house, which, of course, Rashley happily agrees to do. Much to Bubble's delight, Rashley tells him of his intrigues with his mistress, and Bubble never realizes that the “mistress” is his wife. Privately Rashley and Emilia revel in their successful intrigue, particularly their exploitation of Bubble: Rashley gloats, “But of all Men a Husband's the best Bawd” (II,ii, p. 16).

All goes exceptionally well for the lovers until Ranger (who loves Emilia) and Maria (Bubble's sister who also loves Rashley) plot to expose the illicit affair. Significantly, neither Ranger nor Maria considers the adulterers immoral; they are concerned only with their own ends. Maria merely pretends to be shocked and troubled by the offence to “the Honour of the Family” (I,i, p. 2); her real motive is her love for Rashley. The complications of the plot develop around the attempts of Maria and Ranger to expose Emilia and Rashley and the latter couple's attempts to outwit the jealous pair. D'Urfey tricks out this battle of wits in several scenes of near-discovery, involving disguised servants, mistaken identities, and even a trapdoor through which the witty Emilia and Rashley escape at the last moment. Finally the lovers are discovered in a compromising situation, quite by accident and not because of the abortive plans of Maria and Ranger. Emilia is shamed and Rashley storms out haughtily. Bubble can only plan to pen “A Satyr aginst Women” called “A CAUTION FOR CUCKOLDS” (V,v, p. 61).

A coarse, lewd subplot, filled with “smutty” double entendres, deals with the courtship of Bubble's niece Cordelia. One of her suitors is Old Fumble, “a super-annuated Alderman,” but she wishes to have nothing to do with him, saying, as any Restoration young lady might, “assure your self I hate an old Fellow for a Husband, as much as an old Gaown, or an old piece of Wit …” (V,i, p. 48). And she discovers her other suitor, Sneak, being treated by a physician for a case of the “civil Clap” (V,i, p. 51).

A Fond Husband demonstrates D'Urfey's affinities with other Restoration dramatists in his use of the popular cuckolding theme. There is no indication in this play that D'Urfey wishes to condemn the acts of Rashley and Emilia; if anything, the intriguers are shown as witty, rather attractive people who consistently outwit those around them. As Rashley says, “Well,—if Cuckolding be a Crime, 'tis the sweetest Crime in Christendom, and certainly has the most Practisers” (III,i, p. 28). Judging from the evidence provided by this play, D'Urfey shares Rashley's view, and the opinion that a credulous husband like Bubble is a “soft-headed, a half-witted Fellow.” The last speech of the play, however, hints just slightly at a condemnation of the looseness of the age. Ranger says,

'Tis a damned thing this Wenching, if a Man
considers seriously on it; and yet 'tis such
a damnable Age we live in, that, Gad, he that
does not follow it is either accounted sordidly
unnatural or ridiculously impotent.

But the conclusion of his speech negates what he has just said:

Well, for my part henceforward this shall be my Resolution:—
I'll Love for Interest, Court for Recreation;
Change still a Mistriss to be still in fashion:
I'll aid all women in an Amorous Intrigue;
But from this hour ne're baulk a Love-Intrigue.

(V,v, p. 61)

[Here D'Urfey expounds] on a worthy theme for a work—the conflict between the actions and attitudes demanded by the age and a man's personal code—but he doesn't develop it in this play or in any other.

In March 1678 D'Urfey produced another comedy stressing wit, Trick for Trick: or, The Debauched Hypocrite.⁵ In it the central characters try to outwit each other, and most characters talk of their wit or the wit of others. The plot is simply one of trick for trick. Monsieur Thomas tries to seduce Cellide through trickery, and she counter-tricks and remains chaste. Thomas is a wild and wicked profligate who, according to Cellide, “has a better faculty for lying than I have; and for defaming ladies, debauching their Women, beating Constables, breaking Glass Windows—the most accomplish'd that ever came from Paris” (II,i, p. 16). He converts love downward to animal lust and speaks of his “Mungril Love” (IV,i, p. 40) for Cellide. Cellide, on the other hand, is another virtuous heroine who, at the moment when she seems about to be ravished by Thomas, says melodramatically, “Rather kill me Sir, than do it” (V,i, p. 63). She enjoys the witty tricks and pranks, that is, until they threaten something important; then she responds as a later heroine would.

It should not be thought that Cellide's reaction to Thomas's ungentlemanly behavior sets the tone of the whole comedy. Quite the contrary, the tone is indicated better by a speech of Thomas's servant. Thomas's father wants his son to be the greatest rake, the most debauched young man in town, and as one of his many jokes, Thomas convinces the old man that he has become a saint and has forsaken his old ways. The servant fears that the old man will disinherit the boy thus leaving servant and master without income. So, to endear Thomas to his father the servant tells the old wastrel:

You don't remember when he [Thomas] made the Ten Whore in Whetstones Park stand every one on their heads upon Quart-Pots, you are Ignorant of that, but I'm sure I remember it; for I got a damn'd clap dat time, which I cou'd never claw off since.

(II,i, p. 28)

“Whore” and “clap”—these words suggest the general tone of the piece.

Thomas's last speech, however, though it does not square with the rest of the play, augurs a change in D'Urfey's treatment of marriage. Thomas says farewell to intrigues, “For Marriage to a Debauchee, is a second Purgatory; It gives him only a Prospect of Joy or Torment, without knowing which he shall arrive to. But I hope I know my self better, than to venture without great Consideration to such Uncertainities.

Loose Love like a thin Garment serves us ill,
And though wee'r pleas'd with it, we shine still.
But I'm confirm'd let th' Age be what it will
What ever Nature in a Miss design'd,
Wives only are the Blessing of Mankind.”

(V,ii, p. 63)

Here is the dilemma described by Smith. Marriage is uncertain, like purgatory, and a mistress is tempting, but in his praise of wives D'Urfey has stepped closer to sentimentalism. A heroine who preserves her virtue, and a rake who swears off debauchery presage The Virtuous Wife.

Squire Oldsapp: or, The Night-Adventurers (June 1678),⁶ D'Urfey's last production before The Virtuous Wife, shows only a slight trend toward a more sentimental approach to the subjects of love and marriage. Its extremely intricate and complicated plot, involving, as the sub-title suggests, many cases of mistaken identity that take place at night, deals with the attempts of Welford, “a wild debauch'd Town-Spark,” to seduce his friend's wife Christina, and his friend's attempts to seduce Welford's mistress, Trick-love.⁷ Welford believes that there are no virtuous women once the candle has been blown out, and his friend Henry believes that a wife can be kept virtuous only if she is kept secluded. Consequently, he plans to keep Christina and the marriage concealed from Welford and his kind in the “Town.” But Henry has few qualms about intriguing himself; as he goes to an assignation he can only mutter, “Dear Matrimony, thou must pardon me …” (II,iii, p. 22). Christina, unlike her husband, does prove virtuous. As Welford presses his attentions and his attack on her, she, even after discovering her husband's infidelity, refuses to submit; instead, she plots revenge on both Welford and Henry. “What-ever my Husband is,” she says, “I am sure Vertue was grounded on a better Foundation, than to be so easily o're-thrown—I'll cure his rambling humour—he shall find there are some Vertuous Women” (V,ii, p. 52). Christina is no meek, patient Griselda, though. She does not wait for Henry to “come to his senses” and leave off wenching; indeed, she follows him to his mistress's and plans to expose and shame him. But Henry makes no gesture of becoming a penitent husband, and Welford, who plans to be married, seems disinclined to change his habits. D'Urfey seems to say that young men are young men, married or not.

In summary we can say that in five comedies written before The Virtuous Wife, D'Urfey employs most of the conventions available to a contemporary of Dryden, Etherege, Wycherley, and Ravenscroft: cuckolds, fops, Witwouds, intrigues, rakes, pimps, etc. In addition, he tries to write comedy in which he contrasts true refinement, affectation, and ignorance, and comedy in which a witty couple occupies the center of the action. But even these early comedies provide signals of things to come; beneath their veneer of Restoration naturalism and libertinism lies a fundamentally sentimental attitude toward women and marriage. Madam Fickle in her play, Cellide in Trick for Trick, and Christina in Squire Oldsapp preserve their virtue, have a high regard for genuine love, and are presented as admirable women. Moreover, in Madame Fickle a penitent husband asks his wife's forgiveness for being a frail human being. Though he has not lived a debauched life, he has nevertheless wronged his wife by not trusting her and by being overly jealous of her. Another young man, a gay debauchee, denounces his former life and praises marriage as a great “Blessing of Mankind.” With these isolated instances of sentimentality as a background, we can now turn to the plays that evince much more than traces of sentimentalism.

THE VIRTUOUS WIFE: OR, GOOD LUCK AT LAST (SEPTEMBER 1679)⁸

When D'Urfey brought this play to the stage, he did not know whether its new type of heroine would “take” or not, but he seems to have been aware that he had broken with the formulas that the audience accepted and expected. Thus his rather self-conscious “Prologue” warns the audience to be ready for something unusual and, if they came to see horns made and seductions carried off, something unusually “moral.” The “Prologue” in effect serves as an apology to the gallants for depriving them of their common, risqué fare. Actually, in this play D'Urfey uses a different formula, one that was to make Cibber a successful playwright sixteen years later—that is, he imposed a sentimental fifth act on four rather conventional Restoration ones. But D'Urfey did not set out to reform the stage; probably he was merely looking for a successful formula and found one that suited his temperament. Change, however, was in the air. Smith notices subtle changes in the drama of this period (around 1680), pointing out “that despite the ascendancy of the gay and cynical spirit in comedy, one might try to succeed in the other way—by giving the audience characters with whom they could sympathize.”⁹ Smith would attribute such a play as The Virtuous Wife to the growing influence of “the ladies” who cried down pictures of themselves as loose, foolish, weak, or lustful, and perhaps he is right. Certainly the “Prologue” of D'Urfey's play supports such a view: the speaker says that the part of the virtuous wife “can take with none but / Women …” (11. 13-14). D'Urfey, however, has previously shown a natural fondness for strong female characters, women with intelligence, wit, and the ability to control the men and therefore the action of the play. Such a woman is Olivia, the virtuous wife, who will be discussed in detail later.

In its treatment of love and marriage The Virtuous Wife provides a virtual paradigm of thematic conventions which were prevalent in the theater in 1679. The structure of The Virtuous Wife is a rather careful juxtaposition of four different kinds of love and marriage, each being worked out, after complications aided by disguise and mistaken identity, to a conclusion that impresses us as desirable.

The first couple introduced, Beverly and Jenny Wheadle, represent the married rake who believes that “a Wife of six moneths standing is stale,” (I,181) and his mistress, a fortune hunting prostitute. Beverly rails fashionably at love, saying that “Love and Passion are onely fit for vacant houres, the friends of idleness and fowl weather” (I,39-41) and that more important matters demand attention when the sun shines—“Immortal Wit, true Friends, sprightly Champaign, heavenly Musick, Philosophical Arguments, Exercise, and a number more” (I,49-51). For a man of fashion love takes last place in a day's activities, like a “Grace Cup at a banquet” (I,52). Beverly speaks this in jest to “vex” Jenny, for actually love (meaning lust) occupies a most important place in Beverly's life. The banquet metaphor seems quite appropriate for these two, who have large sexual appetites, particularly for Jenny, whose only motives seem to be sex and money. She reveals her nature when she rails at wives, whom she calls “covetous creatures” who “grutch a shilling to another, be their own Coffers never so full—” (I,65-67) and still later when she leaves Beverly for a more stimulating gallant, the disguised Olivia. Wholly unadmirable qualities link Beverly and Jenny Wheadle, and their base motives are not dissimilar. They share no genuine affection, and D'Urfey in no way suggests that their relationship has value or is attractive. Beverly reveals that he married his wife on false pretences after he had assumed another's identity, that of Olivia's intended husband, Beauford. Beverly adds that his action rested on his being “passionately in Love” with Olivia, joined with the fact—a very important fact—that Olivia is “the sole Daughter and Heir of the old Lord Thorough-good” (I,87-88,80-81). After Beverly supplies this bit of exposition, the situation is right for the return of Beauford, which sets the play in motion. Beauford also provides a necessary link between the various characters.

Instead of creating a conventional gallant-hero, in Beauford D'Urfey presents a Restoration roué in reverse. Beauford fails at roguery, intriguing, and rakishness; he is Dorimant, Courtal and the others seen in a fun house mirror. They seduce and cuckold with ease and style; Beauford receives only beatings and “pumpings” for his efforts. He is a parody of the type. But Beauford qualifies neither as a Witwoud—a simpleton who apes the men of fashion—nor as a fop—a character who imitates French manners and thinks only of his dress and appearance and the figure he makes. Like a rake he does try to intrigue with two mistresses at the same time—Olivia and Isabella. He functions as the one who must test Olivia's virtue and as her tool in reclaiming Beverly; also, he provides the means for examining the validity of one of the other marriages, that of Isabella and Sir Frollick Whimsey. And finally, he too must be saved from his vices and made to marry a virtuous woman. Actually Beauford is a cleverly drawn character, a blend of good-natured fool and rake. He does not have the cynical indifference, carelessness, and selfishness of Dorimant or Horner, even when he seeks revenge. Moreover, he is not entirely unsuccessful in his cuckolding schemes. He does seduce Isabella, thus cuckolding Sir Frollick. This action shows another Restoration view of marriage: the view that an old man who marries a young and beautiful wife is foolish and should expect horns.

The marriage of Isabella and Sir Frollick is a favorite type in Restoration comedy—a young, witty, and beautiful girl married to an older, often impotent man who spends much of his time lamenting his lost youth and complaining of the infirmities of age. Beauford describes Sir Frollick as “an excellent old humorist, one so much in Love with the debauchery and vices of youth that he is always complaining of his Age and Impotence” (I,318-320). Isabella, Beauford's quondam mistress, differs from Olivia in that Olivia is truly virtuous, while Isabella only talks of virtue. Beauford assaults both, but only Isabella yields. She protests that her marriage—at this point Beauford doesn't know who is her husband—is made inviolable by her conscience, but when Beauford feigns a seizure to test her, she adds, “But, however, one spark of Comfort shall be yours, least you despair; Therefore know, tho I am Married, my Husband is old—” (II,i,69-71). Beauford knows an invitation when he hears one, and he also knows that the cuckolding waits only for the propitious moment. Like other young Restoration heroes, Beauford feels that it is almost a sacred duty to provide for the unfortunate young ladies whose husbands cannot. A character in Crowne's The Country Wit (1676) states the case wittily:

When a pretty young woman lies in the possession of an old fellow, like a fair fertile province under the dominion of the Turk, uncultivated and unenjoy'd, no good Christian but ought to make war upon him.¹⁰

D'Urfey follows this convention and by so doing somewhat weakens or confuses his characterizations of both Beauford and Sir Frollick. There is no real reason that bad-luck Beauford should succeed at this affair when he has failed in others; furthermore, Sir Frollick is shown later to be a man of understanding and benevolence who does a good turn for the very man who he knows has cuckolded him.

But Sir Frollick is old and impotent, and he, as such men must, attends too much to “business” and not enough to love and his young wife. Isabella indicates the incompatibility of love and business, at least in the eyes of a healthy young woman, when she asks Sir Frollick not to leave her. He replies: “Sweet heart—my Business is too weighty to be controll'd by your advice” (II,i,4-5). And Isabella answers out of his hearing: “Well, I will not raile much at thee, nor vex my self; but this I'll say, he that leaves his Wife when she desires his Company, to read the Votes, deserves to be voted a Cuckold as long as he lives …” (II,i,11-14). Sir Frollick's speech reminds one of Pinchwife's words to Horner in The Country Wife: “I have business, sir, and must mind it; your business is pleasure, therefore you and I must go different ways.”¹¹ The business of the young and healthy is pleasure, and Horner calls such men as Pinchwife “super-annuated stallions.” D'Urfey makes a concession to the gallants in his audience who came to see cuckolding by allowing the conventions to dictate how Sir Frollick and Beauford should be treated.

In Restoration comedy “the old, even the middle-aged, are viewed as comic in themselves,” writes one critic. “They have spent their youth in following the art of elegant intrigue, and when youth departs there is nothing left. The elderly buck, the superannuated beauty, are stock figures from Etherege onward.”¹² In The Virtuous Wife D'Urfey pictures both. In the case of Lady Beardly and Sir Lubberly Widgeon we see the foolishness of a vain, ugly hag with enough money to tempt a young fortune hunter like Sir Lubberly. Lady Beardly receives little sympathy from the other characters for the beatings she suffers from her husband; it is suggested that she is getting her just reward. An old woman married to a young man amused the Restoration audiences, and when one of these beldams tries to camouflage her decayed charms, the humor is amplified. The prolonged scene in which Lady Beardly discusses cosmetics and tinctures must have greatly amused the audience. She is motivated by vanity and by unseemly lust, and her husband plans to get a mistress as soon as possible, that is, as soon as he can lay hold of her funds. In case Lady Beardly's folly has not been made perfectly clear, she states it in this lament: “my penitence shall be a warning to my whole sex, / That they may know how dearly I repented / That married thrice, yet could not be contented” (V,522-525). As still further proof, Lady Beardly lets slip that she was with child before she was married, and Beauford describes her as “the most Amorous Sibill” in town, one who “entertains all the young Fops in the Town, and to end all, has that unnatural impudence to think some of 'em are in love with her” (II,i,162-166).

Unlike Lady Beardly, Jenny Wheadle, and Isabella, Olivia is truly a virtuous woman, and she is also intelligent, vivacious and active. She does not mope about the stage lamenting her fortune and waiting for a miraculous conversion of her rascally husband; nor does she take Isabella's course of action. Instead, from the moment Olivia discovers Beverly's infidelity, his intrigue with Jenny Wheadle, she plots her revenge. Normally in Restoration comedy a wife's revenge is to make her husband a cuckold; Beauford simply assumes this in his relations with Olivia and tells her that “virtue has nothing to do here, you are to follow the dictates of Love and Revenge, without the consideration of what is right or wrong” (V,62-65). But Olivia respects her marriage vows, even though she apprehends the “corruption of Matrimony” in the age (I,183). In fact, she accuses Beverly of neglecting these vows and thus forfeiting his right to expect her fidelity: “No Sir, you cancell'd your right in that, when you broke your Marriage vow …” (II,ii,142-144). She takes her role and responsibilities as a wife seriously. She speaks of “the duty of a Wife” and of her own credit as a good wife: “Have I been bred with such Integrity, taught Virtue from my Cradle, practis'd it, supply'd the office of a Wife with credit, and ne'r did action that could taint my Innocence …” (II,ii,114-117). She does call herself a “wrong'd” wife, but she does not bathe in self-pity. Her statement of revenge is not pitiful, but defiant, that of a wronged woman vowing to reclaim what is hers: “Well Sir, I am resolv'd to be reveng'd on thee; and tho my Virtue will not let me do it the right way, yet I'll make thee as jealous as if I did. …

Husbands such niggards of their Love are grown,
That the poor Wife that should have all, has none.
But pining sits, with her allowance small,
Whilst rampant Misses get the Devil and all.”

(II,ii,196-205)

When she generalizes about husbands, she uses such words as “poor Wife” and “pining,” but these words do not apply to her.

Olivia's revenge is twofold: she hopes to expose Jenny Wheadle as the whore she is and to reclaim the jewels Beverly has given her; she also hopes to reclaim Beverly by making him jealous of Beauford. In the acting out of her revenge, Olivia converts Beauford from his rakish ways. Excited by the opportunity to seduce Olivia and by doing so to revenge himself on Beverly, Beauford becomes Olivia's tool and, thinking his reward certain, offers to go along with her schemes. Finally, Olivia disabuses him about his expectations and in so doing forces Beauford to examine himself and his motives. She informs him that the seduction he desires and expects can never be his. “Then, to thy terror be it spoken,” she tells him, “know (oh most unfortunate person) that I have fool'd thee all this while, made thee a down-right property, and am a very Miser in affection” (V,304-307). Then in a speech that presages the change that was to take place in the drama, she advises Beauford that “you do but swim against the stream, and vainly dash against the rock of my Constancy; therefore, desert in time, do. Marry, grow vertuous and love honestly:

Look gravely, say your prayers, think on Hell,
Your ill luck comes by Whooring, so farewell.”

(V,308-313)

This counsel opens Beauford's eyes, and he admits ashamedly that he is “but a kind of Coxcomb” (V,319-320). In Olivia's speech virtue is plainly and explicitly linked with honest love, constancy, and marriage; conversely, Beauford's misfortunes are linked on the other side with his “whooring.” Vice, Olivia is saying, is punished in this world as well as in the next (Hell). Such a dichotomy marks a departure from much Restoration comedy in which no moral opprobrium is attached to whoring, and little good is shown in constancy and marriage. Indeed, in these plays there is often the tacit assumption that men will always be untrue to their wives and that, given the chance, their wives are likely to cuckold them.

Lest Beauford's conversion seem too sudden, D'Urfey prepares for it in two ways. First, as has been pointed out, despite all his talk of gay seduction, Beauford is not shown to be very successful. The second, and more important preparation, rests with the character Lidia. Throughout the play she is little more than an observer of the action, but she sees that beneath Beauford's wild libertine exterior lies a “good Conscience” (III,40). Her observation demonstrates yet another sentimental element in this play: the belief that man's folly is a fashionable, modish veneer, and that beneath this outer layer is innate goodness. This goodness can be brought to the surface once the “coxcomb” asserts his reason and judgement over his desires. Lidia feels that she “can prove [Beauford's] good genius” (V,444-445) because his vices “look less ugly in him than in another” (IV,i,183). Beauford, as a result of his change, is rewarded with a loving wife and ten thousand pounds, and has “good luck at last.” With his reformation comes a change of fortune, again a sentimental notion of poetic justice—material reward for virtue. The sentiment inherent in Beauford's situation, however, is not played up as it would be in a later comedy.

When Olivia completes her skillful handling of Jenny Wheadle, Beverly, and Beauford, the stage is set for the final unmasking, followed by the reconciliation of the lovers and the speech of repentance in which the reformed husband admits his evil past and takes the pledge. Beverly makes his speech and takes on the pietistic sententiousness one expects of a reformed sinner in sentimental comedy. “Let our union teach the Wild, Roving, and inconstant World how they should Live and Love, my dearest Creature,” (V,667-669) he says, sounding for all the world as Cibber's penitents are to sound later.

Sherbo suggests that one of the marks of a genuinely sentimental comedy is a prolongation of a truly sentimental scene. Certainly a real problem is to determine how much of a play must be sentimental, or how sentimental an individual scene must be for the work to be labelled a sentimental comedy, especially when dealing with Restoration playwrights who combine elements of several kinds of comedies. Of the reconciliation scene in The Virtuous Wife Sherbo remarks that it “is short and quite unemotional.”¹³ “Love's Last Shift was so successful because it provided that something new for which the time was propitious,” Sherbo argues. “The new element was the spectacle of a rake brought to see the error of his ways by a devoted wife. Actually, of course, the situation itself was not new; it was only the greater degree of prominence given to the final reformation of the rake that was new.”¹⁴ It is always difficult to judge degree in literature, but it seems that Cibber's reconciliation scene is only slightly longer than D'Urfey's. Without doubt the language of D'Urfey's scene is as ornate and as emotional as that in Cibber's:

BEVERLY.
Come to my bosom, thou art mine again—all my own, and shalt be so for ever—for from this moment all base drossy thoughts, that soil'd the life and lustre of my Judgement, shall vanish; and instead of those, thy Beauty, Love, Constancy, and Wit, shall crown my heart—blot from thy breast my faults, and let our union teach the Wild, Roving, and inconstant World, how they should Live and Love, my dearest Creature.
OLIVIA.
This now is like a Husbands love; free as it should be;
Which mine shall equal, and now I'll boldly say,
Whensoe'er yours was, this is my Wedding day.

(V,661-673)

Here are the elements of a fully sentimental scene: the wronged wife, the penitent rake, the advice to the world about how to live, the virtue of the wife rewarded, the marriage renewed and refounded on a better understanding. Also Olivia expresses her rapture, and Beverly admits that his judgement has been dimmed but is now in control. But D'Urfey does not exploit all the emotion and sentimentality inherent in such a scene. Rather, he makes the lovers move into the background, and then he leaves the audience with the hellish marriage of Sir Lubberly and Lady Beardly as the last image of the play.

Olivia looks forward to Cibber's Amanda and Lady Easy; in fact, “the theme of The Virtuous Wife is the theme of three of Cibber's distinctly sentimental comedies: Love's Last Shift, The Careless Husband (1704), and The Lady's Last Stake, or, The Wife's Resentment (1707).”¹⁵ But Olivia is a more interesting character than Cibber's heroines. She has more wit than they, and she controls the action more than they. She is amused by the situation she has created with her disguise and the subsequent charming of Jenny Wheadle. She remarks that Beverly “may reform,” but “if not, the Wit and Honor of the enterprize rewards me, and so farewell to Love and Matrimony” (V, 103-105). Lady Easy could never have had such a thought. The fact is that though Olivia looks forward to later heroines, she also looks backward to several of her witty sisters of the Restoration and perhaps even to some of Shakespeare's heroines. More important, she belongs with other of D'Urfey's heroines. From Madam Fickle on throughout his career D'Urfey seems captivated by strong, energetic, active, intelligent, virtuous, determined heroines. By contrasting Olivia with Isabella, Jenny Wheadle, and Lady Beardly, D'Urfey makes it easy to sympathize with his exemplary heroine and to rejoice in the eventual overcoming of the obstacles put in her way to happiness. She never compromises personal virtue, nor will she “wink” at Beverly's sins as he suggests; on the other hand, Olivia does not sit and pine and beg for pity. Rather, her personality combines engaging qualities of the Restoration and the sentimental heroines: she is an amusing, entertaining, sympathetic character and the center of a gay and lively play.

THE ROYALIST (JUNE 1681)¹⁶

After 1680 instances of sentimentality are not exceptional in D'Urfey's comedies. But four of the works stand out for the emphasis they give to sentimental characters, scenes, themes. The first of these chronologically is The Royalist, ostensibly an attack upon the Whigs.

At the center of the play stand Sir Charles Kinglove, a most loyal follower of the King, and Phillipa, beautiful daughter of a Puritan father. They represent the virtues of honor, constancy, justice, generosity, valor, and nobility of purpose. The play is set in 1658 shortly before the death of Cromwell, and prior to the action of the play, Sir Charles, on the verge of falling in love with Phillipa, leaves her because of her Puritan ties and thus sacrifices his “Love to Loyalty” (I,i, p. 6). But Phillipa's love is so deep that she disguises as a young man and follows Kinglove to battle, where she saves his life and in the process receives wounds herself. Her glorious and brave conduct in battle wins his undying friendship; yet she cannot reveal herself to him because of his feelings toward Puritans. The remainder of the play deals with the inevitable revelation of Phillipa's true identity and Kinglove's recognition of her real worth, ending, of course, with his declaration of love and proposal of marriage.

Sir Charles endures great hardships because of his political views: the Puritans, led by Sir Oliver Oldcut, sequester his lands and make him a prisoner in Sir Oliver's house. But Sir Charles does not strike out in uncontrolled anger or curse his ill luck; he endures with the grace and good-nature of a martyr. “‘Tis base in any man to rail at Fortune,” he says,

Since she's a Goddess whose Divinity
Instructs the wanton Clay to know it self;
No (if Adder like I dip my tongue in Venom)
It shall be against the Enemies of my Prince
The trembling pale curst Traitors of the Times:
The Plots of Foreign Foes, good Heaven reveal,
Free us from the Mischief of a Common-weal.
Let the great Senate Peace and Union sing.
And to compleat our Joys long live the King.

(I,i, p. 10)

No base thoughts cross his mind because he lives by principles that lift him above the fawning, capitulating world. This world, especially as it manifests itself in cheap Puritan political cabals, “hates the Wise, the Vertuous, and the Loyal, and only cherishes the Knave and Fool” (II,i, p. 16). Phillipa, sharing Sir Charles' misfortunes, listens to these honorable thoughts and then states that everything must work out for the best because “there is a reward for Virtue” (II,i, p. 16). This becomes a central theme of the play, certainly a sentimental one, and both Sir Charles and Phillipa are finally rewarded while the evil-doers are punished.

But Sir Charles is human and has a weakness—he is susceptible to the temptations of a beautiful woman. Camilla, Sir Oliver's wife and secretly a loyalist, finds the prisoner attractive and plans to visit him because, as she tells her cousin Aurelia, “there's nothing like a Royalist at a Fair Lady” (II,i, p. 11) and because “I am clearly for liberty in Love; your dull low spirited constant Couple are like two Chickens in a Coop, they are always either sleeping or pecking at one another” (II,i, p. 11). At first Sir Charles is apprehensive and suspicious of Camilla's visit; he fears she might be part of a trick designed by Sir Oliver. Sensing the “mutiny between the flesh and the spirit” (II,ii, p. 17), he states, “I see the Devil designs to play his old Game with me, and when he can catch me with nothing else, he baits his Hook with a Woman; and gad I snap at it as eagerly as a Spaniel does at a thing thrown him, never considering whether it be good or bad” (II,ii, p. 17). He yields to the flesh, and decides to lie with Camilla and to cuckold Sir Oliver “out of revenge” (II,ii, p. 18). The Pauline religious terms—flesh and spirit—and the word “Devil” seem quite intentional on D'Urfey's part as he links the Puritan conspirators with the disruptive evils of the world and the King with order and good. But Phillipa does not view Camilla as part of a plot or as an instrument of the devil; she senses that Camilla is only “a lewd Woman” (II,ii, p. 19), thus a dangerous rival. When Sir Charles and Camilla arrange an assignation, Phillipa can only sigh and say, as do other sentimental heroines, “I must have recourse to Patience …” (III,i, p. 25).

While she waits patiently for Sir Charles to discover who she is, Phillipa continues to play her role as a young man and friend. Naturally the disguise leads to comic complications. Because her door is accidentally locked, for example, Phillipa must spend the night with Sir Charles, who suspects nothing. And nothing happens. But being apprehensive and bashful, Phillipa stays awake all night, lying in bed “like a wary Centinel carefully [watching] the Fort” (III,i, p. 22). She must protect her virtue even against the man she loves. Not being a man who overlooks an opportunity to make the most of a comic situation, D'Urfey arranges a second chance for Sir Charles and Phillipa to share a bed. This time Sir Charles discovers that the fair young man is in reality a beautiful young woman. When she reveals her name, Sir Charles says, “Phillipa, what that beauteous Virgin that so much did love me; who, though an heiress, left a mighty Fortune to spend her days in discontented Travel” (IV,i, p. 45). Overwhelmed by her goodness and devotion, he elatedly declares his love for her: “Now all my Joys are Crown'd, and nothing but the Bond, the sacred Bond of marriage can have power to make addition to my Blessings” (V,i, p. 51). Among these blessings is a large sum of money that Phillipa brings to her husband. To Sir Charles she is “the kindest, dearest of [her] sex”; “how I am bound to thee,” he sings out, “thou, that like the Darling Genius of the Heav'ns, consign'd by Divine Power to reward Vertue too generously hast repaid Ingratitude with heaps of dazling Gold and much more dazling Beauty” (V,i, p. 51).

The actions and sentiments of Sir Charles and Phillipa are presented as noble and honorable, and their love is a “blessing” and a “sacred bond.” Phillipa is not at all a witty Harriet type, but resembles Wycherley's Fidelia, self-sacrificing and patient. Her love knows no bounds; her chastity, diffidence, loyalty, courage, and virtue earn Sir Charles's love and respect. Likewise, Sir Charles represents a masculine ideal, a man of strength, principles, genuine love, and unerring loyalty to his King. Although he arranges an illicit affair with Camilla, he never consummates it, and remains chaste. Finally, his virtues are rewarded materially. Not only does he acquire a fortune from Phillipa, but word is also brought that Cromwell has heard of Sir Charles's goodness and has returned his sequestered lands, that the King's cause is gaining strength, and that “times will change” (V,ii, p. 63).

A subplot involving a rather typical Restoration rake and his intrigues accentuates the goodness of the principal characters. The rake Heartal, a friend of Sir Charles, seduces Aurelia and then arranges for her to marry another because no self-respecting fellow will marry a loose woman. Aurelia tries to withstand Heartal's advances because she wishes to marry him, but his love banter wins out. She can only cry, “And can you say we do not live in a very wicked age, where it is counted so insufferable a piece of folly to Marry” (IV,i, p. 42). But Heartal's view of marriage and of the age is cynical and not touched by sentimentality. He replies as Dorimant might: “No, faith, not when we are so lucky to have the good effects of Marriage without it” (p. 42). Heartal, however, is not presented in a favorable light; discovered in bed with Aurelia, he must leave without his “Breeches”—a shameful exposure. Worse, he is shown to lack a true, unquestioning loyalty to his King. Sir Charles chastises him for his selfish nature and his unwillingness to contribute toward his country's “Peace and Honour” (V,i, p. 53). In short, D'Urfey links right politics with high personal morals; and the greedy Puritans, the selfish rake, and the wanton women get short shrift because they cannot measure up to the standards set by Sir Charles and Phillipa. Virtue triumphs.

As stated earlier, The Royalist is ostensibly a political play, but the general effect is that of a comedy of manners with political overtones, a mixture reflected in the speech of the characters, some of whom speak both prose and poetry. The sexual intrigues, the cuckolding, and the cynical view of marriage expressed by Heartal belong to Restoration comedy. And though Sir Oliver is a political figure, he is also a foolish man whose wife feels justified in giving him horns because he cannot supply her emotional and physical needs. Finally, The Royalist is a comedy with sentimental themes: virtue is rewarded materially, and true love triumphs over all.

LOVE FOR MONEY: OR, THE BOARDING SCHOOL (MARCH 1691)¹⁷

After The Virtuous Wife D'Urfey takes his biggest step toward eighteenth-century sentimental comedy in Love for Money, which remained popular years after its author's death. Forsythe, greatly impressed by the sentimentality in this play, concludes that “D'Urfey's play fulfills all the requirements of sentimental comedy” set forth by Bernbaum.¹⁸ Lynch sees D'Urfey's heroine Mirtilla as an antecedent of Indiana, Steele's “most faithful study of a sentimental heroine.”¹⁹ And Nicoll feels that Love for Money shows “distinct features of the sentimental comedy.”²⁰ These features can best be understood by examining the values suggested by the title—love and money.

In this play two pairs of lovers illustrate the “right way” and the “wrong way” of love. The exemplary couple consists of Merriton, “a witty modest well-bred Gentleman, tho' of small fortune, a great Lover of Learning, and skill'd in Philosophy, Poetry and Musick”; and Mirtilla, an “Orphan, witty, modest, and virtuous,” and also “Skill'd in books” (“Dramatis Personae”). For them love is a serious affair of the heart, not to be obfuscated or diluted with wit and repartee; indeed, they express their love and affection openly and unashamedly in rather florid fashion. Contrarily, Merriton's friend Jack Amorous, “a witty Extravagant of the Town, generous and well-natur'd, but so extreamly given to Women, that he keeps a Jilt, and has spent his Estate on her” (“Dramatis Personae”), loves all women, but thinks them all “whores.” Betty Jiltal, his mistress, is “a cunning sighing, weeping, wheedling, toying, chattering Mercenary Town Jilt,” who loves “for money” (“Dramatis Personae”). These four represent opposing values in the play, and their outcomes indicate D'Urfey's thematic emphasis.

Two other characters also illustrate opposing moral forces in the play, and they set the plot into motion. Sir Rowland Rakehell (“a covetous mercenary vicious swearing atheisticall Old Fellow”) has cheated an “Infant Orphan to whom he was Guardian” (“Dramatis Personae”) out of her estate and arranged to have her shipped to the Indies and, if necessary, killed. Fortunately, he assigned this horrible task to Old Merriton (“an honest, Religious, conscientious Gentleman”) who privately placed the orphan (Mirtilla) in a boarding school, and there has maintained her without telling anyone, not even Mirtilla. Old Merriton waits for the propitious moment when he can produce the heiress, have Sir Rowland arrested, and insure justice for both, including the return of Mirtilla's stolen estate.

Before it is revealed that Mirtilla is a wealthy heiress, Young Merriton falls in love with her and she with him. As he describes her to his friend Amorous, he praises her for loving Poetry (“to her a Jewel worth her prizing”) and adds,

She's skill'd in Books friend, a rarity in Women, especially bred in a Boarding School; she has all her Sexes Graces without their frailty, Modesty without their Affectation, Wit without their Mischief, and Love without their Levity, then for Beauty, she has enough to make a Man an Atheist believing there could be no greater Heaven.

(I,i, p. 4)

Such admiration, which is mutual, leads to over-emotional statements of love and to hyperbolic evaluations of the loved one. “D'Urfey's hero and heroine are the man and woman of sense—anti-rake and anti-coquette—combined as true lovers. …”²¹ When Merriton visits Mirtilla at the boarding school, we see them in a courtship scene that is a model of “sense” and decorum refined enough for one of Steele's plays:

MIRTILLA.
The reverence I have to the very name of my worthy Foster-father Mr. Merriton, to whom you say you are related, and to whose virtue I stand Indebted, for all the comforts of this life makes me submit myself with more willingness to this your Importunity, else Sir, believe me, I should think this Lonely visit very improper, and not at all Concurring with my honour.
Y. Merriton.
Your honour is a thing, I would defend against a World of Enemies, then think not Sweet that I would willingly do any thing to blast it. I know this private visit may be censur'd, but not whilest 'tis a Secret, as 'tis now, I had no other way to express my love, and not to have done it would have made me, Miserable.

(III,i, p. 26)

At this point Mirtilla does not know the exact relation between the Merriton men and shows a slight caution lest she become entrapped by one of the honey-tongued, “smooth operators” of the town that prey on innocent young girls:

MIRTILLA.
You imagine Sir that my Soul is Musicall, and therefore treat me with that tunefull word [love]; but build not Sir, too much upon my weakness, for tho' my heart is tender and unartfull, and love's a Bait most proper to deceive me, yet virtue is a guard.
Y. Merriton.
There needs no guard Sweet Angell against a Love so honourable as mine, the world is full of Treachery, and our Sex are brooding mischiefs daily against yours, but I alas am of another Mould, my Soul by fate was design'd your Slave, my heart still moves the narrow constant Road, in hopes in your's to find at last its heaven.

Mirtilla's moral alarm system warns her that Merriton's “bewitching” rhetoric “would charm a Saint” because of its refined diction and lofty sentiments; but she learns also that his heart exclaims a truly honorable love, and that his mind decries the evils of society and its “treacherous” young men:

Y. Merriton.
I hate the Town and the vain Crowd are in it, the Biass'd Court and Mercenary City where gorg'd with Ignorance and Luxury, Wit is disgrac'd, the Sciences despis'd, and modest Merrit mourns in Rages it's fortune, 'tis the Epitome of the nauseous world whose vices I with such fell-hate persue that I love nothing near the Town but you.

Merriton's refined sensibility overwhelms Mirtilla, and she responds by praising him as “a Man Compleat by Heaven and Nature, most qualified with Wit and rarest Arts, which from my Soul I always lov'd and honour'd, and therefore she that gains ye must be happy …” This florid encomium transports Merriton, but not beyond the power to speak:

Y. Merriton.
How near to Heaven is my present Joy, from that sweet mouth to hear my self thus prais'd; Oh thou dear source of all my worldly blessings, Eternal Rapture charms me from thy tongue, and whilst I hear thee I am deify'd, to lose thee were damnation so Infallible, I question whether there could be a greater.
(kneels and Embraces her.)

(III,i, pp. 26-27)

Lifted to the pinnacle of ecstasy, Mirtilla can only reply with a maidenly blush.

It is very doubtful that any scene in Restoration comedy before 1691 thrusts the audience into the midst of such sentimental discussions of “honour,” “virtue,” “love,” and such condemnation of “the town.” Similarly, no prior scene so eschews wit, repartee, and the “gay couple” tone as does this one.

Though Mirtilla loves Merriton “almost too fierce for Vertue to endure” (IV,ii, p. 42), she will not marry him because she has no money. “I'le sigh and mourn for thee my dearest Friend / But can no more, till our hard Fortunes mend” (p. 42), she laments. But Merriton thinks differently: “We have no Poverty, whilst we love enough” (IV,ii, p. 45). Mirtilla, combining sensibility and prudence, has thought ahead to the possibility of children accompanied by want and dreadful hunger. In a thoroughly melodramatic speech she sketches for him the horrors they could face:

But should the freezing hard of want afflict us, what should we do, but sit by our small fire, Tears in our Eyes and throbing Griefs at Heart, to see our little Flock of unfledg'd Cupids, shivering with Cold as wanting necessaries, who looking wishly on us seemed to say, why would you marry thus to make us miserable.

(IV,ii, p. 45)

Mirtilla's refined sensibility (and imagination) prevents her from burdening the man she loves with such problems. Such practical concerns disappear when their “hard Fortune” is mended and Old Merriton discloses that Mirtilla possesses fifty thousand pounds. Now Merriton balks slightly at the possibility of marrying a woman richer than he—“Love may oblige me to a slavish Duty, but Fortune never shall” (V,i, p. 52). Finally the future happiness of the blissful couple is secured and Merriton says, “… and now sweet Angel, my Joys crowd thick about my Heart, and long for vent, the approaching happiness looks as like Heaven that I methinks am extasied already.” To which Mirtilla responds, “Nor is my share of vast Content less charming. In Fortunes brightest Sphere of Bliss I move, / Enjoying Wealth enough and him I Love (V,ii). Their virtue is rewarded with love and money.

Not only do Merriton and Mirtilla exemplify honorable love, but they also show a respect for parental authority that adumbrates attitudes prevalent in later comedy, particularly in Steele's Bevil Junior. Young Merriton does not think of pursuing his love affair without securing his father's approval. When Old Merriton asks his son if he loves Mirtilla, Young Merriton replies, “my will you know is bounded by your Pleasure, on your Commands depends my love or liking” (II,i, p. 14). Likewise, Mirtilla reverences the “very name” of her “worthy Foster-father” and feels indebted to his virtue “for all the Comforts of this life” (III,i, p. 26). Elizabeth Mignon, writing on the conflict between youth and age in Restoration comedy, notices that as the drama becomes more sentimental, “the decayed roisterer and the antiquated coquette have given way to the venerable parent with the passing of the beau monde of manners comedy.” “Youth,” she adds, “can no longer laugh at age, for the old person, simply because he is old, is virtuous and wise.”²² Certainly this view is borne out in the person of Old Merriton, who is shown to be wiser than anyone in the play.

As their name suggests, the Merritons are men of genuine merit. At play's end Young Merriton, Old Merriton, and Mirtilla triumph over all and are rewarded with inheritance and full revenge on Sir Roland. Amorous, who from the very beginning of the play has held different, less noble views of love than Merriton, changes. He once believed that “Marriage the product of convenience is / 'Tis Love with Freedom brings the truest Bliss” (III,ii, p. 35). For this attitude Merriton labelled him “a lewd Fellow” who “can'st not relish an Intrigue of honour” (I,i, p. 4). But after Jiltal is proved to be a most mercenary whore who has used Amorous shabbily, he realizes that Merriton's view of marriage and of women is the correct one: “… dear Merriton, now I confess my Blindness and thy judgment” (III,ii, p. 36). The final grouping of characters underscores the themes of the play. Merriton, his father, and Mirtilla stand on the threshold of their house prepared to keep out anyone who they feel does not belong, and that includes Sir Roland, Jiltal, and for a few minutes, even Amorous. Sir Roland is in the hands of the constable and about to be taken off for eventual execution. Jiltal is stripped of all her ill-gotten wealth and ridiculed. And Amorous must depend on the Merritons for his future happiness and financial support; only they can provide him with a living.

Not only does virtue triumph over vice, but it is shown to be more alluring, materially rewarding, and socially powerful.

THE RICHMOND HEIRESS: OR, A WOMAN ONCE IN THE RIGHT (APRIL 1693)²³

Although I cannot agree with Nicoll that the “sentimental note so apparent” in Love for Money is “even deeper and more pronounced” in The Richmond Heiress,²⁴ this play commands attention because its heroine rejects all her suitors when they fail to measure up to her high standards. Here only two characters belong to the sentimental tradition—Fulvia, the Heiress, and her friend Sophronia. These two high-minded young ladies censure inconstancy and moralize about the fickle, deceiving rakes of the town, choosing to remain single rather than marry a suitor without merit. J. H. Smith writes that “in no preceding play had the heroine exhibited such high standards.”²⁵

Fulvia, “a witty, generous and virtuous young Lady,” feigns madness because her stepfather and guardian, Sir Charles Romance, wishes her to marry his wastrel son Tom. She lets Frederick, her lover, in on the secret, and he secures the services of his friend Quickwit, a needy scholar, to assist him with a plan to elope with Fulvia, eluding the watchful eyes of the guardian. Quickwit, who disguises himself as the wealthy but mad “Lord de la Fool,” becomes a patient of Dr. Cuiacum, Fulvia's doctor and warden. “De la Fool” carries a letter from Frederick to Fulvia explaining how she can escape from the doctor and her stepfather. But the plot fails, and the repeated attempts to steal her away provide most of the play's humor.

Unknown to Fulvia, Frederick was once contracted to marry Sophronia, “a Female plain-dealer, passionate and high spirited, very satyrical upon the Town Humours.” Upon learning of Fulvia's wealth, however, Frederick deserts Sophronia and devotes himself to wooing the heiress. Bitter at being deserted, Sophronia says to the jilting fortune hunter, “it were unreasonable for me, to expect you to be constant to my small merit, when you had such a tempting lump as Fifty thousand Pounds to cherish your hopes withal” (III,iii, p. 34). She realizes all too well that for Frederick constancy and virtue take second place to money. “But can I love a Man that scorns my Love; / That poorly offers up Wit, Beauty, Merit / A Trophy to the sordid Idol Money” (III,iii, p. 35), she muses. And Frederick himself confesses “to be of that Pagan Opinion, that there is no one Quality belonging to a Woman, unless it be her Money that can countervail a Man's playing the fool in courting her for a month …” (V,i, p. 50).

Fulvia, however, cannot at first see through Frederick's pretense; rather, she assumes that the reward he seeks is “faithful Love, and an obedient Wife” (II,ii, p. 23). Frederick almost succeeds in marrying her, but Sophronia disabuses Fulvia about his real motives by showing her the contract which proves his “baseness” and his “Mercenary Soul.” As the play ends, Fulvia, seconded by Sophronia, faces the men who lust for her money and condemns their evil natures; she particularly censures the passion for money that controls Frederick and her stepfather:

… first you, Sir Frederick, that through the baseness of your sordid naure, and mercenary thirst of gain, abus'd me, take that [his promise of marriage to Sophronia] as a reward for your Ingratitude and my eternal hatred for the future.

(V,v, p. 62)

She throws the promise in Frederick's face and tells him to “Read there a base Deceiver's Character, and for thy sake may never generous Maid, trust thy false sex to be again betray'd” (V,v, p. 62). Finished with Frederick, she then generalizes about all men: “Since such a general defect of honesty corrupts the Age, I'll no more trust Mankind, but lay my Fortune out upon my self, and flourish in contempt of humane Falshood.” (V,v, p. 63). After speaking thus, Fulvia turns to her friend in virtue and asks, “Well, Cousin, what think ye now of my Resolution, have I not done Justice?” (V,v, p. 63). Sophronia's reply underscores the moral decisively:

Most generous Maid, thou art a clear Example for all thy Sex to copy out thy Virtue, for that a kind and tender heart like thine, moulded for Love, and softened with Endearments, should generously on the account of honor, resist a Traytor, that with strong Enchantments of Vows and Oaths, had long time made Impression, is a performance heightened to a wonder, and will be reverenc'd in succeeding ages.

(V,v, p. 63)

To emphasize the point still more strongly, Fulvia summarizes her high ideal of marriage and love:

My eyes in contradiction to the World, have ever (scorning interest) fix'd on Merit, and led by Love and Generous inclination, have strove to make that Sentiment appear by a free present of my Heart and Fortune to one I thought as nobly deserv'd 'em. But, oh! the Race of Men are all Deceivers, and my relief, is my resolve to shun 'em; 'tis my dear Friend, as thou has lately told me which for Instruction I will still repeat.

Love may seem great that in it self is small,
Looks cover thoughts, and Interest governs all;
When Damon to an Heiress speaks kind things,
'Tis not for what she is, but what she brings.

(V,v, p. 64)

Nicoll writes that these “last speeches of Fulvia and Sophronia might have come from a drama of 1750, and the former's rejection of mankind has something in it of the later temper.”²⁶ And Lynch states that “at the date of The Richmond Heiress” to have a “young moralist like Fulvia, refusing on moral grounds the man whom she had loved, was an innovation in comedy, a conspicuous departure from Restoration standards.”²⁷

Again in this play, as in Love for Money, D'Urfey suggests that love and money may both be helpful if not necessary for a marriage, but that to love for money is wrong. We are expected to sympathize with Fulvia and to rejoice in her escape from the rapacious, undeserving Frederick. For Fulvia and Sophronia marriage must be an affair of love, not of marriage settlements, and suitors who think otherwise are spurned. Discussing the “decline of the gay couple” motif, Smith writes, “In general the rake will not prove as successful as the man of sense. He may be unpaired at play's end, with the desireable girls handed to their constant lovers. If he aims at an honorable match with an heiress but attempts to win her without reforming his principles and conduct he will be found out—and thus he may lose her when she decides to marry no one. …”²⁸ Frederick does not attempt to reform; he remains a rake. And because there are no men of sense for Fulvia and Sophronia, the play ends not in marriage, as a comedy generally does, but on a rather discordant, though “moral,” note.

THE CAMPAIGNERS: OR, THE PLEASANT ADVENTURES AT BRUSSLES (APRIL 1698)²⁹

In no play discussed above has there appeared a sentimental hero to match Colonel Dorange in The Campaigners. Merriton, certainly, partakes of a fine sensibility and represents distinct moral superiority. Colonel Dorange never rises to Merriton's sustained flights of ornate sentimentality; actually, Dorange's character is more complex than Merriton's, so complex that Lynch mistakenly thinks him “a true Restoration rake, whose unsavoury adventures occupy a good deal of space in the play.” In her examination of the play Lynch concentrates on Angelica, who, although she lacks “the reforming energy of Olivia, is qualified by her emotions for a sentimental role.”³⁰ The focal point of the action, however, is Dorange, not Angelica, and Dorange is easily the most interesting character in the play, as well as a sympathetic one.

Returned from the campaign, Dorange sees a lady of “most incomparable Beauty and Feature” and says in her hearing that he would give a “hundred Pistoles” “to enjoy her but one night” (I,i, p. 5). The anonymous lady sends a note fixing the time and the place for the assignation. Pleased but curious, Dorange thinks “for all her jesting” she “won't take the Money” (I,i, p. 6) and resolves to accept the invitation. While wandering around that night that he “may readier find the place at his hour of appointment to morrow” (II,ii, p. 15), Dorange is thrown a bundle from a balcony. The thrower mistakes him for a servant, and intrigued, Dorange goes along with the adventure. Angelica, kept a veritable prisoner by her aunt, is sneaking off to see her child, who is kept in secret by a nurse. The aunt wishes to prevent Angelica from marrying and the uncle wants her to marry Bondevelt, the President of the Council of Trade, because the uncle has been promised a large sum of money by Bondevelt if the match is made. Neither aunt nor uncle knows of the child, and neither considers Angelica's happiness in the plans to get her wealth.

Dorange follows Angelica to the nurse's without being recognized and without asking any questions. Angelica gives him a letter to carry to Bondevelt. Out of her sight he reads the note and muses, “By fate it must be she, the pretty Creature I one night enjoy'd by a trick at her Unkles house in London, who since died, and left her his Estate, and after whom, since the Campaign was ended, and the Peace made, hearing she was come to meet a Brother, I came hither in search” (II,ii, p. 18). (In many of his plays D'Urfey's exposition bumps along like an automobile with a flat tire, jarring audiences and, no doubt, the actors.)

This accidental meeting activates the plot, but Dorange does not at first reveal himself to Angelica because he is not sure what to think about the child. That the child might be his does not disturb him as it would a real rake; that it might not be his does disturb him because this would indicate that Angelica, the girl he has come to see and perhaps to love, is a loose woman. In an effort to discover the real truth about the child, Dorange meets with Angelica socially, and finally gives her a ring that reveals his identity. Angelica, after swooning with shock, shows the ring to her brother who vows to revenge his “injur'd Sister” (V,i, p. 51) with reasoned argument if possible, and if that fails, by dueling. But Angelica opposes the duel because she loves both combatants and fears for their safety; she hopes that her brother finds Dorange penitent, for she knows that “his Penitence restores him” to her brother's favor (II,ii, p. 18).

Meanwhile Dorange has kept his assignation with the beautiful lady, who unknown to him, is Madam la Marquise, his friend's wife. When Dorange's appetites have been satisfied and his passions cooled, he reasons: “… I repent my coming, now things are weigh'd in just consideration—What a vile Creature is ungovern'd man, when meerly his own natural heat can change him into a fulsome Idiot” (V,ii, p. 52). Such sentiments are antithetical to the naturalistic code of a Restoration rake: the rake would never condemn his “natural heat” or consider “ungovern'd Man” “vile.” Dorange's self-condemnation and feelings of guilt mark him as forerunner of the man of “sense.”

Madam's husband discovers Dorange, and the latter is shocked to find that he has cuckolded a friend, Bertram, a man he has commended for his “good sense,” freedom from “affectation,” and civil address (I,i, p. 4). He explains to Bertram that his visit was by invitation, that he is “confounded with shame,” and that he can only apologize by saying “that the offence to your honour was a sin of ignorance, and the temptation too strong to be refused by human frailty” (V,ii, p. 56). Bertram, a man of honour and sound judgment, forgives Dorange and returns his money. He keeps out one “pistole” and tosses it to his wife saying: “Dere is your Sallery, Dere is your price, dere is one Pistole for you, vish is enough for any Lady of your Trade” (V,ii, p. 57). As punishment he plans to send her to a convent: “I have tak care of her Bodee to de small purpose, I vill try now vat I can do for her Soul” (V,ii, p. 57). Bertram reacts to his wife's infidelity like a Christian gentleman concerned for her immortal soul, not like Pinchwife or one of that breed. He and Dorange remain friends, recognizing in each other admirable qualities that outweigh the passions for a woman who has been proven false and little better than a common prostitute.

An interesting sidelight in The Campaigners is the explicit condemnation of excessive love of money and the implicit condemnation of gaming. Madam la Marquise loves gaming, but Bertram refuses to give her money to play and attacks her venality: “Your love of de Play, mak you covetous, and love Money too well, And at Wife dat love Money too well, assurement ver often love her Vertue too little” (III,i, p. 25). It becomes obvious that he has sized her up correctly, for when he leaves she says, “the truth is, I do love Money so well, and Play for the sake of Money, that I'm resolved to keep up my Credit with the Gamesters of Quality, tho his Cuckoldom purchase the means of doing it …” (III,i, p. 27). It is, of course, this inordinate love of money that leads her to accept Dorange's offer. Once again, as in The Richmond Heiress and Love for Money, D'Urfey posits the view that the love of money is the root of much evil.

Dorange is truly repentant for wrongs he has caused Angelica, both in the past and through his present misconduct with Bertram's wife; so when he meets Angelica's brother, he says to himself: “… the Brother to Angelica, whom I basely wrong'd; and instead of righting her, have been spending my time here in another lewd frolick, without any honour, justice, or consideration …” (V,ii, p. 57). Don Leon, the brother, and Dorange duel, and Dorange is wounded; yet they continue to fight until Dorange disarms his opponent. As a benevolent, gentlemanly gesture he returns the sword and says, “Use it in your just revenge. You have not yet, Sir, drawn out the wild blood that wrong'd your Sister, try your Skill again” (V,ii, p. 58). This gesture proves to Don Leon that Dorange is a worthy and brave man, so he ends the fighting and shows his benevolence by saying, “you bleed, pray take this Scarf, which my dear Sister gave me, as a kind-present, when I went to travel; and as it binds the wound up in your Arm, may mine, yours and my Sisters heart, be ty'd in lasting union” (V,ii, p. 58).

No Restoration rake would condemn a seduction as a “lewd frolick”; nor would he consider a past affair in terms of “honour, justice, or consideration”—in short, in terms of his duty to the injured party. Likewise a rake would not speak derogatorily of his natural desires as “wild blood.” Dorange belongs to a different tribe; he is truly sorry for the wrongs he has done and wants “to throw at her [Angelica's] feet a true repentant heart …” (V,ii, p. 58). Don Leon, having proved Dorange “brave, kind and repentant” offers him to his sister. Dorange kneels to her and says, “Thus low, I first thank heaven for my blessing—then beg your pardon and leave to love for ever” (V,ii, p. 59). By claiming her for his wife he blots out any stains that may have smudged her honor. Love again is viewed as a “blessing” and converted upward by the religious language.

The Campaigners can be looked at as a variation on the “penitent rake” theme; however, most of the change in Dorange occurs before the play begins, between the time he, controlled by the wild blood of youth, forced himself on Angelica and the time of the play when he has returned from the campaign to seek her. From the beginning of the play he seems to value honor and good sense and courage, which he displays in his dealings with others. Furthermore, though he participates in an illicit affair, he chastises himself for his weak will and bad conduct.

Angelica does very little in the play. She is shown to be gentle and affectionate as a mother who enjoys fondling her child, but she makes few of the ornately moral or sentimental speeches that are the stock-in-trade of Mirtilla and Fulvia. Lynch classifies her with the “milder branch of sentimental heroines” and calls her a “drooping flower.”³¹ Compared to Olivia, Madam Fickle, Mirtilla, or Fulvia, she is pale and uninteresting. Her most positive action is to faint when Dorange hands her the identifying ring. But, as Lynch notes, Angelica is “qualified by her emotions for a sentimental role.” Her virtues seem designed to arouse admiration, and her suffering and shame are intended to evoke pity. This combination of suffering, shame, and goodness of heart make the happiness of her marriage to Dorange appear morally deserved. D'Urfey insures the tenderness of the last scene by having the nurse bring in the child to his loving, happy parents, and these three are joined by their equally virtuous friends. But those whose motives are primarily mercenary do not share in the happiness.

Notes

1. Printed for James Magnes and Richard Bentley (London, 1676). Citations in my text are to this edition.

2. Printed for James Magnes and Richard Bentley (London, 1678). References in my text are to this edition.

3. John Genest, Some Account of the English Stage (Bath, 1832), I, 229.

4. Printed for James Magnes and Richard Bentley (London, 1677). References are to this edition.

5. Printed for Langley Curtiss (London, 1678). References are to this edition. As D'Urfey acknowledges in the “Epilogue,” Trick for Trick is a very loose or free adaptation of Fletcher's Monsieur Thomas, a play which, significantly enough, has been called “very uproarious and also very sentimental” (Tucker Brooke in the Literary History of England, 1948). D'Urfey, however, omits most of the serious interest of Fletcher's main plot and makes Cellide, instead of Mary, the object of Thomas's intrigues.

6. Printed for James Magnes and Richard Bentley (London, 1679). References are to this edition.

7. This play well illustrates D'Urfey's ability to construct and manage a farcical and intricate plot. Genest writes, “… there is so much stage business in the 3rd and 4th acts of this play, that it must appear to more advantage in representation than perusal” (I, 240).

8. References in my text are to the edition prepared for this publication.

9. John Harrington Smith, The Gay Couple in Restoration Comedy, (Cambridge, Mass., 1948), p. 116.

10. John Crowne, The Country Wit, printed for James Magnes and Richard Bentley (1675), II,i, p. 23.

11. William Wycherley, The Country Wife, III,ii.

12. Arthur E. Case, British Dramatists from Dryden to Sheridan, (Boston, Mass., 1939), p. 152.

13. Arthur Sherbo, English Sentimental Drama, (East Lansing, Mich., 1957) p. 44.

14. Sherbo, p. 104.

15. Kathleen M. Lynch, “Thomas D'Urfey's Contribution to Sentimental Comedy,” PQ, 9 (1930), p. 253.

16. Printed for Joseph Hindmarsh (1682). References in my text are to this edition.

17. Printed for Abel Roper (1691). References are to this edition.

18. Forsythe, A Study of the Plays of Thomas D'Urfey, with a Reprint of A Fool's Preferment, (Cleveland, Ohio, 1916), p. 70.

19. Lynch, p. 258.

20. Allardyce Nicoll, A History of Restoration Comedy, 2d ed. (Cambridge, 1928), I, 276.

21. Smith, p. 131.

22. Elisabeth Mignon, Crabbed Age and Youth (Durham, N.C., 1947), p. 176.

23. Printed for Samuel Briscoe (1693). References are to this edition.

24. Nicoll, I, 276.

25. Smith, p. 189 n. 10.

26. Nicoll, I, 276.

27. Lynch, p. 255.

28. Smith, p. 200.

29. Printed for A. Baldwin (1698). References are to this edition.

30. Lynch, p. 254.

31. Lynch, p. 254.