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    The Provok'd Wife: 'A slighted woman knows no bounds''
    The Provok'd Wife: 'A slighted woman knows no bounds''
    The Provok'd Wife: 'A slighted woman knows no bounds''
    Ebook181 pages1 hour

    The Provok'd Wife: 'A slighted woman knows no bounds''

    By John Vanbrugh

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    Sir John Vanbrugh was born in London and baptised on 24th January 1664, the 4th of 19 children.

    Vanbrugh was very political and soon came afoul of its machinations. He spent some time working undercover to help depose James II and bring about the Glorious Revolution of 1689 and the assumption of the throne by William of Orange It was on his return from bringing William messages at The Hague, that he was arrested at Calais on a charge of espionage in September 1688. Vanbrugh remained in prison in France for four and a half years.

    After his release his career was to move in an entirely unexpected direction, and it would not be the last time.

    London’s theatre at this time was riven by a split among its only legitimate company: the United Company. Colley Cibber, who remained with the management, had written and performed in January 1696 ‘Love’s Last Shift’. To Vanburgh’s mind it demanded a sequel and who better to come up with that then himself.

    His play, ‘The Relapse, Or, Virtue in Danger’, was offered to the United Company six weeks later. The play was a tremendous success that saved the company. Vanbrugh's second comedy, ‘The Provok’d Wife’, soon followed, this time performed by the rebel actors' company.

    However, in the following few years he was to reinvent himself as an architect. Despite no formal training his inexperience was balanced by his unerring eye for perspective and detail and his close working relationship with Nicholas Hawksmoor, a former clerk of Sir Christopher Wren.

    He is perhaps best known for his majestic masterpieces: Castle Howard (commissioned in 1699) and Blenheim Palace (commissioned in 1704).

    Sir John Vanbrugh died suddenly from what was stated as ‘an asthma’ on 26th March 1726. He was buried in the church of St Stephen Walbrook in the City of London.

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherStage Door
    Release dateFeb 10, 2020
    ISBN9781839673030
    The Provok'd Wife: 'A slighted woman knows no bounds''

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      Book preview

      The Provok'd Wife - John Vanbrugh

      The Provok’d Wife by John Vanbrugh

      Sir John Vanbrugh was born in London and baptised on 24th January 1664, the 4th of 19 children.

      Vanbrugh was very political and soon came afoul of its machinations.  He spent some time working undercover to help depose James II and bring about the Glorious Revolution of 1689 and the assumption of the throne by William of Orange  It was on his return from bringing William messages at The Hague, that he was arrested at Calais on a charge of espionage in September 1688. Vanbrugh remained in prison in France for four and a half years.

      After his release his career was to move in an entirely unexpected direction, and it would not be the last time.

      London’s theatre at this time was riven by a split among its only legitimate company: the United Company.  Colley Cibber, who remained with the management, had written and performed in January 1696 ‘Love’s Last Shift’. To Vanburgh’s mind it demanded a sequel and who better to come up with that then himself.

      His play, ‘The Relapse, Or, Virtue in Danger’, was offered to the United Company six weeks later.  The play was a tremendous success that saved the company. Vanbrugh's second comedy, ‘The Provok’d Wife’, soon followed, this time performed by the rebel actors' company.

      However, in the following few years he was to reinvent himself as an architect. Despite no formal training his inexperience was balanced by his unerring eye for perspective and detail and his close working relationship with Nicholas Hawksmoor, a former clerk of Sir Christopher Wren.

      He is perhaps best known for his majestic masterpieces: Castle Howard (commissioned in 1699) and Blenheim Palace (commissioned in 1704).

      Sir John Vanbrugh died suddenly from what was stated as ‘an asthma’ on 26th March 1726. He was buried in the church of St Stephen Walbrook in the City of London.

      Index of Contents

      DRAMATIS PERSONÆ

      THE PROVOK’D WIFE

      PROLOGUE

      ACT I

      SCENE - Sir John Brute's House

      SCENE - A Dressing-Room

      ACT II

      SCENE - St. James's Park

      SCENE - Lady Fancyfull's House

      ACT III

      SCENE - Opens

      SCENE - Opens

      SCENE - A Bed-Chamber

      ACT IV

      SCENE - Covent Garden

      SCENE - A Bed-Chamber

      SCENE - A Street

      SCENE - Spring-Garden

      SCENE - Sir John Brute's House

      SCENE - Lady Fancyfull's House

      SCENE - Constant's Lodgings

      SCENE - Sir John Brute's House

      ACT IV

      SCENE - Covent-Garden

      ACT IV

      SCENE - Covent-Garden

      JOHN VANBRUGH – A SHORT BIOGRAPHY

      JOHN VANBRUGH – A CONCISE BIBLIOGRAPHY

      DRAMATIS PERSONÆ

      MEN

      Constant     Mr Verbruggen

      Heartfree     Mr Hudson

      Sir John Brute     Mr Betterton

      Treble, a Singing-Master   Mr Bowman

      Rasor, Valet de Chambre to Sir John Brute, Mr Bowen

      Justice of the Peace    Mr Bright

      Lord Rake, Companion to Sir John Brute

      Col. Bully, Companion to Sir John Brute

      Constable and Watch

      WOMEN

      Lady Brute     Mrs. Barry

      Belinda, her Niece    Mrs. Bracegirdle

      Lady Fancyfull     Mrs. Bowman

      Madamoiselle     Mrs. Willis

      Cornet and Pipe, Servants to Lady Fancyfull

      THE PROVOK'D WIFE

      PROLOGUE

      Spoken by MRS BRACEGIRDLE

      Since 'tis th' Intent and Business of the Stage,

      To copy out the Follies of the Age;

      To hold to every Man a faithful Glass,

      And shew him of what Species he's an Ass:

      I hope the next that teaches in the School,

      Will shew our Author he's a scribbling Fool.

      And that the Satire may be sure to bite,

      Kind Heav'n! inspire some venom'd Priest to write,

      And grant some ugly Lady may indite.

      For I wou'd have him lash'd, by Heavens! I wou'd,

      Till his Presumption swam away in Blood.

      Three Plays at once proclaim a Face of Brass,

      No matter what they are; That's not the Case—

      To write three Plays, e'en that's to be an Ass.

      But what I least forgive, he knows it too,

      For to his Cost he lately has known you—

      Experience shews, to many a Writer's Smart,

      You hold a Court where Mercy ne'er had part;

      So much of the old Serpent's Sting you have,

      You love to Damn, as Heaven delights to Save.

      In foreign Parts, let a bold Volunteer,

      For Public Good, upon the Stage appear,

      He meets ten thousand Smiles to dissipate his Fear.

      All tickle on th' adventuring young Beginner,

      And only scourge th' incorrigible Sinner;

      They touch indeed his Faults, but with a Hand

      So gentle, that his Merit still may stand;

      Kindly they buoy the Follies of his Pen,

      That he may shun 'em when he writes again.

      But 'tis not so in this good-natur'd Town,

      All's one, an Ox, a Poet, or a Crown;

      Old England's Play was always knocking down.

      ACT I

      SCENE I

      SCENE, Sir John Brute's House

      Enter SIR JOHN

      SIR JOHN [Solus]

      What cloying Meat is Love—when Matrimony's the Sauce to it! Two Years Marriage has debauch'd my five Senses. Every thing I see, every thing I hear, every thing I feel, every thing I smell, and every thing I taste—methinks has Wife in't. No Boy was ever so weary of his Tutor, no Girl of her Bib, no Nun of doing Penance, or old Maid of being chaste, as I am of being married. Sure there's a secret Curse entail'd upon the very Name of Wife. My Lady is a young Lady, a fine Lady, a witty Lady, a virtuous Lady,—and yet I hate her. There is but one thing on Earth I loath beyond her: That's Fighting. Would my Courage come up to a fourth part of my Ill-Nature, I'd stand buff to her Relations, and thrust her out of doors. But Marriage has sunk me down to such an Ebb of Resolution, I dare not draw my Sword, tho' even to get rid of my Wife. But here she comes.

      [Enter LADY BRUTE.

      LADY BRUTE

      Do you dine at home to-day, Sir John?

      SIR JOHN

      Why, do you expect I should tell you what I don't know myself?

      LADY BRUTE

      I thought there was no harm in asking you.

      SIR JOHN

      If thinking wrong were an excuse for Impertinence, Women might be justify'd in most things they say or do.

      LADY BRUTE

      I'm sorry I have said any thing to displease you.

      SIR JOHN

      Sorrow for things past is of as little importance to me, as my dining at home or abroad ought to be to you.

      LADY BRUTE

      My Enquiry was only that I might have provided what you lik'd.

      SIR JOHN

      Six to four you had been in the wrong there again; for what I lik'd yesterday I don't like to-day; and what I like to-day, 'tis odds I mayn't like to-morrow.

      LADY BRUTE

      But if I had ask'd you what you lik'd?

      SIR JOHN

      Why then there wou'd have been more asking about it than the thing was worth.

      LADY BRUTE

      I wish I did but know how I might please you.

      SIR JOHN

      Ay, but that sort of Knowledge is not a Wife's Talent.

      LADY BRUTE

      Whate'er my Talent is, I'm sure my Will has ever been to make you easy.

      SIR JOHN

      If Women were to have their Wills, the World wou'd be finely govern'd.

      LADY BRUTE

      What reason have I given you to use me as you do of late? It once was otherwise: You marry'd me for Love.

      SIR JOHN

      And you me for Money: So you have your Reward, and I have mine.

      LADY BRUTE

      What is it that disturbs you?

      SIR JOHN

      A Parson.

      LADY BRUTE

      Why, what has he done to you?

      SIR JOHN

      He has married me.

      [Exit SIR JOHN.

      LADY BRUTE [Sola]

      The Devil's in the Fellow, I think—I was told before I married him, that thus 'twou'd be: But I thought I had Charms enough to govern him; and that where there was an Estate, a Woman must needs be happy; so my Vanity has deceiv'd me, and my Ambition has made me uneasy. But there's some Comfort still; if one wou'd be reveng'd of him, these are good times; a Woman may have a Gallant, and a separate Maintenance too—The surly Puppy—yet he's a Fool for't: for hitherto he has been no Monster: But who knows how far he may provoke me? I never lov'd him, yet I have been ever true to him; and that, in spite of all the Attacks of Art and Nature upon a poor weak Woman's Heart, in favour of a tempting Lover. Methinks so noble a Defence as I have made, shou'd be rewarded with a better Usage—Or who can tell?—Perhaps a good part of what I suffer from my

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