ity in acuteness, but
not always in humour. Wycherley speaks of wits not exactly in the sense
of humorists, but rather as coxcombs, endued with a certain cunning:
"Your court wit is a fashionable, insinuating, flattering, cringing,
grimacing fellow, and has wit enough to solicit a suit of love; and if
he fail he has malice enough to ruin the woman with a dull lampoon; but
he rails still at the man that is absent, for all wits rail; and his wit
properly lies in combing perukes, matching ribbons, and being severe, as
they call it, upon other peoples' clothes."

_Lydia._ Now, what is your coffee wit?

_Dapperwit._ He is a lying, censorious, gossiping, quibbling
wretch, and sets people together by the ears over that sober
drink--coffee; he is a wit as he is a commentator upon the Gazette;
and he rails at the pirates of Algiers, the Grand Signior of
Constantinople, and the Christian Grand Signior.

_Lydia._ What kind of wit is your pollwit?

_Dap._ He is a fidgetting, busy, dogmatical, hot-headed fop, that
speaks always in sentences and proverbs, and he rails perpetually
against the present Government. His wit lies in projects and
monopolies, and penning speeches for Parliament men--

He goes on to speak of the scribble wit, and judge wit or critic, but in
general wits were regarded as rakes and not long afterwards we find it
debated whether a woman can be witty and virtuous.

Wycherley did not aim much at facetiousness, nor introduce many humorous
episodes, but passages incidentally occur which show he had considerable
talent in that direction. The first from "Love in a Wood," is an
ironical conflict between one Gripe, a rich but parsimous Alderman, and
a Mrs. Joyner, a sly, designing old woman.

_Gripe._ I am full of your praise, and it will run over.

_Joyner._ Nay, sweet Sir, you are----

_Gripe._ Nay, sweet Mrs. Joyner, you are----

_Joy._ Nay, good your worship, you are----

(_Stops her mouth with his handkerchief_)

_Gripe._ I say you are----

_Joy._ I must not be rude with your worship.

_Gripe._ You are a nursing mother to the saints; through you they
gather together, through you they fructify and increase, and
through you the child cries out of the hand-basket.

_Joy._ Through you virgins are married, or provided for as well;
through you the reprobate's wife is made a saint; and throug