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.
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Study
Guide Prepared by Michael J. Cummings...©
2003
Revised
in 2010.©
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Type
of Play
.
She
Stoops to Conquer is a stage play in the form of
a comedy of manners,
which ridicules the manners (way of life, social
customs, etc.) of a certain
segment of society, in this case the upper class. The
play is also sometimes
termed a drawing-room comedy. The play uses
farce (including many
mix-ups) and satire to poke fun at the
class-consciousness of eighteenth-century
Englishmen and to satirize what Goldsmith called the
"weeping sentimental
comedy so much in fashion at present."
Setting
.
Most
of the action takes place in the Hardcastle mansion
in the English countryside,
about sixty miles from London. The mansion is an old
but comfortable dwelling
that resembles an inn. A brief episode takes place
at a nearby tavern,
The Three Pigeons Alehouse. The time is the
eighteenth century.
Characters
.
Mr.
Hardcastle: Middle-aged
gentleman who lives in an old mansion in the
countryside about sixty miles
from London. He prefers to the simple rural life and
its old-fashioned
manners and customs to the trendy and pretentious
ways of upper-crust London.
Mrs.
Dorothy Hardcastle:Wife
of Mr. Hardcastle. Unlike her husband, she yearns to
sample life in high
society. She also values material possessions and
hopes to match her son
(by her first husband) with her niece, Constance
Neville, in order to keep
her niece's inheritance in the family.
Charles
Marlow: Promising
young man who comes to the country to woo the
Hardcastles' pretty daughter,
Kate. His only drawback is that he is extremely shy
around refined young
ladies, although he is completely at ease—and
even forward—with women
of humble birth and
working-class status. He is a pivotal character in
the play,  used
by
author Goldsmith to satirize England's preoccupation
with, and overemphasis
on, class distinctions. However, Marlow's redeeming
qualities make him
a likeable character, and the audience tends to root
for him when he becomes
the victim of a practical joke resulting in mix-ups
and mistaken identities.
Kate
Hardcastle: Pretty
daughter of the Hardcastles who is wooed by Charles
Marlow. When he mistakes
her for a woman of the lower class, she allows him
to continue to mistake
her identity, thus freeing his captive tongue so she
can discover what
he really thinks about her.
Tony
Lumpkin: Son
of Mrs. Hardcastle by her first husband. He is a
fat, ale-drinking young
man who has little ambition except to play practical
jokes and visit the
local tavern whenever he has a mind. When Tony comes
of age, he will receive
1,500 pounds a year. His mother hopes to marry him
to her niece, Constance
Neville, who is in line to inherit a casket of
jewels from her uncle. Tony
and Miss Neville despise each other.
George
Hastings: Friend
of Marlow who loves Constance Neville.While Marlow
is busy with Kate, Hastings
is busy with Constance. Hastings hatches a plan to
elope with Constance
and receives the help of Tony, who wants to erase
Constance from his life—and
his
mother's constant efforts to match him with
Constance.
Constance
Neville: Comely
young lady who loves Hastings but is bedeviled by
Mrs. Hardcastle's schemes
to match her with Tony. Constance, an orphan, is the
niece and ward of
Mrs. Hardcastle (who holds Miss Neville's
inheritance in her possession
until she becomes legally qualified to take
possession of it) and the cousin
of Kate.
Sir
Charles Marlow: Father
of young Charles.
Servants
in the Hardcastle
Household
Maid in
the Hardcastle
Household
Landlord
of the Three
Pigeons Alehouse
First
Fellow, Second
Fellow, Third Fellow, Fourth Fellow: Drinking
companions of Tony Lumpkin.
Plot
Summary
By
Michael J. Cummings...©
2003
.
In
a downstairs room of their old mansion, Dorothy
Hardcastle tells her husband
that they need a little diversion—namely, a trip
to London, a city she
has never visited. Their neighbors, the Hoggs
sisters and Mrs. Grigsby,
spend a month in London every winter. It is the
place to see and be seen.
But old Hardcastle, content with his humdrum rural
existence, says people
who visit the great city only bring back its silly
fashions and vanities.
Once upon a time, he says, London’s affectations
and fopperies took a long
time to reach the country; now they come swiftly
and regularly by the coach-load.
Mrs.
Hardcastle, eager for fresh faces and
conversations, says their only visitors
are Mrs. Oddfish, the wife of the local minister,
and Mr. Cripplegate,
the lame dancing teacher. What’s more, their
only entertainment is
Mr. Hardcastle’s old stories about sieges and
battles. But Hardcastle says
he likes everything old—friends, times, manners,
books, wine, and, of course,
his wife.
Living
in their home with them is their daughter, Kate, a
pretty miss of marriageable
age, and Tony, Mrs. Hardcastle’s son by her first
husband, Mr. Lumpkin.
As a boy, Tony bedeviled his stepfather, Mr.
Hardcastle, with every variety
of mischief, burning a servant’s shoes, scaring
the maids, and vexing the
kittens. And, Hardcastle says, “It was but
yesterday he fastened my wig
to the back of my chair, and when I went to make a
bow, I popt my bald
head in Mrs. Frizzle’s face.”
Now
as a young man, Tony has become a fat slob who
spends most of his time
at the local alehouse. Soon he will come of age,
making him eligible for
an inheritance of 1500 pounds a year with which to
feed his fancies. Mrs.
Hardcastle wants to match Tony with her niece and
ward, Constance Neville,
who has inherited a casket of jewels from her
uncle. As Miss Neville’s
guardian, Mrs. Hardcastle holds the jewels under
lock and key against the
day when Constance can take legal possession of
them.
While
Mr. and Mrs. Hardcastle discuss the London trip
that is not to take place,
Tony passes between them and sets off for the
alehouse, The Three Pigeons.
Mrs. Hardcastle chases out the door after him,
saying he should find something
better to do than associate with riffraff.
Alone,
Mr. Hardcastle laments the follies of the age.
Even his darling Kate is
becoming infected, for now she has become fond of
“French frippery.” When
she enters the room, he tells her he has arranged
for her to meet an eligible
young man, Mr. Charles Marlow, a scholar with many
good qualities who “is
designed for employment in the service of the
country.” Marlow is to arrive
for a visit that very evening with a friend, Mr.
George Hastings. Young
Marlow is the son of Hardcastle’s friend, Sir
Charles Marlow. Kate welcomes
the opportunity to meet the young man, although
she is wary about her father’s
description of him as extremely shy around young
ladies.
By
and by, Constance Neville comes in for a visit.
When Kate tells her about
young Mr. Marlow, Constance tells her that her own
admirer, Mr. Hastings,
a friend of the Marlow family. Miss Neville
welcomes the attentions of
Hastings but laments Mrs. Hardcastle’s attempts to
pair her with her “pretty
monster,” Tony, in an effort to keep Miss
Neville’s jewels in the family.
Tony and Constance despise each other.
Tony
Plays Trick
Meanwhile,
at the alehouse, Tony is having a ripping good
time singing and drinking
when Hastings and young Marlow come in asking for
directions to the Hardcastle
home. Having just arrived in the area from London
after a wearisome trip,
they have lost their way. Tony, who resents Mr.
Hardcastle’s treatment
of him lately, sees a way to get even: He tells
Marlow and Hastings that
Hardcastle is an ugly, cantankerous fellow and
that his daughter is a “tall,
trapesing, trolloping, talkative maypole.” But, he
says, Hardcastle’s son
(meaning himself) is a “pretty, well-bred youth
that everybody is fond
of.” Marlow says he has been told otherwise,
namely, that the daughter
is “well-bred and beautiful; the son, an awkward
booby, reared up and spoiled
at his mother’s apron-string.”
Taken
aback, Tony can only hem and haw. Then, deciding
to work a mischief, he
tells them the Hardcastle home is too far to reach
by nightfall but that
there is a nice inn just up the road. The
“inn” is, of course, the
Hardcastle home. When Marlow and Hastings arrive
there, they note that
the inn is old but commendable in its own way.
Hastings comments that Marlow
has traveled widely, staying at many inns, but
wonders why such a man of
the world is so shy around young women. Marlow
reminds him that he is shy
only around young ladies of culture and bearing.
Around women of the lower
classes, he is a nonstop talker, a wag completely
at ease. Hastings replies:
“But in the company of women of reputation I never
saw such an idiot, such
a trembler; you look for all the world as if you
wanted an opportunity
of stealing out of the room.”
When
Mr. Hardcastle enters, he welcomes them as the
expected guests—the Marlow
fellow who is to meet his daughter and Marlow’s
friend Hastings. However,
the young men—believing that they are at the inn
described by Tony—think
Mr. Hardcastle is the innkeeper, and treat him
like one, giving him orders
to prepare their supper and asking to see the
accommodations. Hardcastle
is much offended by their behavior, thinking
them the rudest of visitors,
for he remains unaware that they think they are at
an inn. He keeps his
feelings to himself.
When
Hardcastle goes upstairs with Marlow to show him
his room, Hastings runs
into Constance Neville and, through his
conversation with her, realizes
that he is at the Hardcastle home, not an inn.
Hastings decides to keep
the information a secret from Marlow, fearing that
Marlow would react to
the mix-up by immediately leaving. Thus, he allows
Marlow to believe that
Constance and Kate are also guests at the “inn.”
When
Marlow finally meets Kate, his shyness all but
tongue-ties him. Almost
every time he starts a sentence, Kate has to
finish it. But she compliments
him on being so clever as to bring up interesting
topics of conversation.
All the while that they talk, Marlow lacks the
courage even to look at
her face. He does not even know what she looks
like.
In
another room, Tony, who has returned from the pub,
and Constance are insulting
each other, as usual, to the dismay of Mrs.
Hardcastle. After Hastings
observes their spitfire give-and-take, he tells
Tony he will take the young
lady off his hands if Tony will help him win her.
“I’ll
engage to whip her off to France, and you shall
never hear more of her,”
Hastings says.
Tony
replies: “Ecod, I will [help] to the last drop of
my blood.”
Hardcastle
Annoyed
Mr.
Hardcastle, meanwhile, is becoming more and more
annoyed with Marlow for
treating him like a lackey. Alone on the stage,
Hardcastle laments, “He
has taken possession of the easy-chair by the
fire-side already. He took
off his boots in the parlour, and desired me to
see them taken care of.
I’m desirous to know how his impudence affects my
daughter.”
Kate
has been upstairs changing into casual clothes.
When she comes down and
talks with her father, she bemoans Marlow’s
incredible shyness while Hardcastle,
in turn, complains about Marlow’s rudeness. They
wonder whether they are
talking about the same person.
While
they converse, Tony, who knows where his mother
keeps everything, gets
the casket of jewels Mrs. Hardcastle is holding
for Constance and gives
it to Hastings as an inducement for Hastings to
run off with Constance.
Later, Mrs. Hardcastle discovers it missing and
thinks a robber is about.
Meanwhile,
a maid tells Kate that Marlow believes he is at an
inn. The maid also tells
her that Marlow mistook Kate for a barmaid after
she changed into her casual
attire. Kate decides to keep up the charade,
changing her voice and demeanor
in Marlow’s presence.
When
he strikes up a conversation with her, he says she
is “vastly handsome.”
Growing bold, he adds, “Suppose I should call for
a taste, just by way
of a trial, of the nectar of your lips.” (To
audiences attending the play,
Marlow’s bold behavior is not at all surprising,
for they are aware that
Marlow is a different man when in the presence of
women of the servant
class.) When old Hardcastle observes Kate and
Marlow together, he sees
Marlow seize Kate’s hand and treat her like a
milkmaid. He’s thinking of
turning Marlow out. When he makes his feelings
known to Kate, she asks
for an hour to convince her father that Marlow is
not so bold and rude
as her father believes he is. He agrees to her
proposal.
The
plot thickens at this point, for another visitor
will shortly arrive—Marlow’s
father, Sir Charles Marlow. It seems Miss Neville
happened on a letter
to old Hardcastle in which Sir Charles announced
that he would arrive at
the Hardcastle home a few hours after his son made
his appearance. When
she tells George Hastings of Sir Charles’s
expected arrival at any minute,
George worries that Sir Charles—who is aware of
George’s fondness for Constance—will
somehow upset their plans to run off together.
Constance asks whether the
jewels are safe. George assures her they are, for
he has sent the jewels,
via a servant, to Marlow for safekeeping.
Unfortunately,
unknown to Hastings, Marlow has told the servant
to give the casket of
jewels to the “landlady” for safekeeping. So the
jewels are back where
they were originally, in Mrs. Hardcastle’s
possession (as Miss Neville’s
guardian). Tony tells his mother a servant was
responsible for misplacing
them. Satisfied, she returns to the task of
promoting a romance between
Tony and Constance, unaware that Hastings and the
young lady are plotting
to abscond.
Marlow
is
by now captivated by the barmaid and says to
himself, “She’s mine, she
must be mine.”
Meanwhile,
old Hardcastle has had enough of impudent Marlow
and orders him to leave.
Marlow protests. Hardcastle rants and exits in a
huff. When Kate enters,
she realizes Marlow now knows something strange is
going on, so she reveals
that the inn is Hardcastle’s house. However, she
describes herself as a
“relative”—a “poor relation” who helps out. As
such, she knows, Marlow
will continue to talk to her freely, since a “poor
relation” is the same
in standing as a barmaid. Marlow, shaken and
deeply embarrassed, says,
“To mistake this house of all others for an inn,
and my father's old friend
for an innkeeper! What a swaggering puppy must he
take me for! What a silly
puppy do I find myself!
Marlow
tells the “poor relation” that he will be leaving,
in view of the circumstances,
but notes that she has been the only positive
thing that happened to him
during the confusing and disconcerting ordeal. His
words help to identify
the feeling she felt for him when they met: love.
Her scheme of posing
as a barmaid/poor relation to find out his real
feelings—a scheme in which
she stooped to conquer—has proved wise.
Further
mix-ups develop involving Miss Neville’s jewels
and Mr. Hastings’ planned
elopement with Constance. Tony is implicated as
the trickster who set in
motion the comedy of errors by telling Marlow and
Hastings that the Hardcastle
home was an inn.
When
Sir Charles arrives, he and old Hardcastle have a
laugh about the mix-ups,
but Hardcastle tells Kate that he is still
unconvinced that Marlow is anything
but rude and insulting. To prove that Marlow is a
worthy man, Kate enacts
one final scene as the poor relative while Marlow
converses with her and
Sir Charles and Hardcastle listen behind a screen.
In the end, Kate reveals
her identity to Marlow, and everyone understands
the mistakes of the evening.
But
there is a further development: Old Hardcastle
reveals that Tony is “of
age”—and has been for three months, meaning he has
a right now to make
up his own mind about his future. Immediately, as
his first act as his
own man, Tony goes against his mother’s wishes and
refuses to marry Constance
Neville, freeing her to marry Hastings—and
qualifying her to receive the
jewels. In the end, the young lovers—Kate and
Marlow, Constance and Hastings—are
betrothed.
Mrs.
Hardcastle comments, “This is all but the whining
end of a modern novel.”
.
.
.
Style and
Structure
.
Goldsmith's
style is wry, witty, and simple but graceful. From
beginning to end, the
play is both entertaining and easy to understand,
presenting few words
and idioms that modern audiences would not understand.
It is also well
constructed and moves along rapidly, the events of the
first act—in
particular, references to Tony Lumpkin's childhood
propensity for working
mischief and playing playing practical jokes—foreshadowing
the events of the following acts.
There
are frequent scene changes, punctuated by an
occasional appearance of a
character alone on the stage (solus in the
stage directions) reciting
a brief account of his feelings. In modern terms, the
play is a page-turner
for readers. Goldsmith observed the classical
unities
of time and place, for the action of the play takes
place in single locale
(the English countryside) on a single day.
.
First
Performance
.
Goldsmith
completed the play in 1773. It was first performed at
Covent Garden Theatre
in London on March 15 of that year. It was well
received. Over the last
two centuries, it has become one of the most popular
comedies in English
literary history. It is still performed often today
throughout the English-speaking
world.
Acting
Approach
.
She
Stoops to Conquer generally requires actors to
deliver restrained,
subtle performances for a production of the play to
be successful. Overacting,
typical in so many modern motion-picture comedies,
can ruin the play. The
best comedic actors—like
Laurel and Hardy,
W.C. Fields, Peter Ustinov, and Peter Sellers—use
a straight face to bend people over with
laughter.
Themes
.
Class Bias
Until
Kate teaches him a lesson, Marlow responds to women
solely on the basis
of their status in society. He looks down on women
of the lower class but
is wholly at ease around them; he esteems women of
the upper class but
is painfully shy around them. Like the London
society in which he was brought
up, he assumes that all women of a certain class
think and act according
to artificial and arbitrary standards expected of
that class. As for Mrs.
Hardcastle, she appears to assess a person by the
value of his or her possessions.
.
Love
Ignores Social Boundaries
.
Although
prevailing attitudes among England's elite classes
frown on romance between
one of their own and a person of humble origin,
Marlow can't help falling
in love with a common "barmaid" (who is, of course,
Kate in disguise).
.
Hope for
Flawed Humanity
Although
Marlow makes a fool of himself as a result of his
upper-class biases, Kate
has enough common sense to see through the London
hauteur encasing him
and to appreciate him for his genuinely good
qualities—which
are considerable, once he allows them to surface.
Also, Mrs. Hardcastle,
in spite of her misguided values, enjoys the love of
her practical, down-to-earth
husband. He, too, is willing to look beyond her
foibles in favor of her
good points.
.
Money
Breeds Indolence
.
Tony
Lumpkin will get 1,500 pounds a year when he comes
of age. Thus, without
financial worries, he devotes himself to ale and a
do-nothing life.
.
Climax
The
climax occurs when Kate reveals her true identity to
young Marlow while
Hardcastle and Sir Charles listen behind a screen.
.
An
Essay on the Theatre
Or,
a Comparison Between Laughing and Sentimental
Comedy
By
Oliver Goldsmith
Written
in 1772
.
The
theater, like all other amusements, has its fashions
and its prejudices:
and when satiated with its excellence mankind begin
to mistake change for
improvement. For some years tragedy was the reigning
entertainment; but
of late it has entirely given way to comedy, and our
best efforts are now
exerted in these lighter kinds of composition. The
pompous train, the swelling
phrase, and the unnatural rant, are displaced for
that natural portrait
of human folly and frailty, of which all are judges,
because all have sat
for the picture.
But
as in describing nature it is presented with a
double face, either of mirth
or sadness, our modern writers find themselves at a
loss which chiefly
to copy from; and it is now debated, whether the
exhibition of human distress
is likely to afford the mind more entertainment than
that of human absurdity?
Comedy
is defined by Aristotle to be a picture of the
frailties of the lower part
of mankind, to distinguish it from tragedy, which is
an exhibition of the
misfortunes of the great. When comedy, therefore,
ascends to produce the
characters of princes or generals upon the stage, it
is out of its walks,
since low life and middle life are entirely its
object. The principle question,
therefore, is, whether, in describing low or middle
life, an exhibition
of its follies be not preferable to a detail of its
calamities? Or, in
other words, which deserves the preference,—the
weeping sentimental comedy
so much in fashion at present, or the laughing, and
even low comedy, which
seems to have been last exhibited by Vanbrugh and
Cibber?
If
we apply to authorities, all the great masters of
the dramatic art have
but one opinion. Their rule is, that as tragedy
displays the calamities
of the great, so comedy should excite our laughter
by ridiculously exhibiting
the follies of the lower part of mankind. Boileau,
one of the best modern
critics, asserts that comedy will not admit of
tragic distress:—
Le
comique, ennemi des soupirs et des pleurs,
N'admet
point dans ses vers de tragiques douleurs.
Nor
is this rule without the strongest foundation in
nature, as the distresses
of the mean by no means affect us so strongly as the
calamities of the
great. When tragedy exhibits to us some great man
fallen from his height,
and struggling with want and adversity, we feel his
situation in the same
manner as we suppose he himself must feel, and our
pity is increased in
proportion to the height from which he fell. On the
contrary, we do not
so strongly sympathize with one born in humbler
circumstances, and encountering
accidental distress: so that while we melt for
Belisarius, we scarcely
give halfpence to the beggar who accosts us in the
street. The one has
our pity, the other our contempt. Distress,
therefore, is the proper object
of tragedy, since the great excite our pity by their
fall; but not equally
so of comedy, since the actors employed in it are
originally so mean, that
they sink but little by their fall.
Since
the first origin of the stage, tragedy and comedy
have run in distinct
channels, and never till of late encroached upon the
provinces of each
other. Terence, who seems to have made the nearest
approaches, always judiciously
stops short before he comes to the downright
pathetic; and yet he is even
reproached by Caesar for wanting the vis comica. All
the other comic writers
of antiquity aim only at rendering folly or vice
ridiculous, but never
exalt their characters into buskined pomp, or make
what Voltaire humorously
calls a tradesman's tragedy.
Yet
notwithstanding this weight of authority, and the
universal practice of
former ages, a new species of dramatic composition
has been introduced,
under the name of sentimental comedy, in which the
virtues of private life
are exhibited, rather than the vices exposed; and
the distresses rather
than the faults of mankind make our interest in the
piece. These comedies
have had of late great success, perhaps from their
novelty, and also from
their flattering everyman in his favorite foible. In
these plays almost
all the characters are good, and exceedingly
generous; they are lavish
enough of their tin money on the stage; and though
they want humor, have
abundance of sentiment and feeling. If they happen
to have faults or foibles,
the spectator is taught, not only to pardon, but to
applaud them, in consideration
of the goodness of their hearts; so that folly,
instead of being ridiculed,
is commended, and the comedy aims at touching our
passions without the
power of being truly pathetic. In this manner we are
likely to lose one
great source of entertainment on the stage; for
while the comic poet is
invading the province of the tragic muse, he leaves
her lovely sister quite
neglected. Of this, however, he is no way
solicitous, as he measures his
fame by his profits.
But
it will be said, that the theater is formed to amuse
mankind, and that
it matters little, if this end be answered, by what
means it is obtained.
If mankind find delight in weeping at comedy, it
would be cruel to abridge
them in that or any other innocent pleasure. If
those pieces are denied
by the name of comedies, yet call them by any other
name and, if they are
delightful, they are good. Their success, it will be
said, is a mark of
their merit, and it is only abridging our happiness
to deny us an inlet
to amusement.
These
objections, however, are rather specious than solid.
It is true that amusement
is a great object of the theater, and it will be
allowed that these sentimental
pieces do often amuse us; but the question is,
whether the true comedy
would not amuse us more? The question is, whether a
character supported
throughout a piece, with its ridicule still
attending, would not give us
more delight than this species of bastard tragedy,
which only is applauded
because it is new?
A
friend of mine, who was sitting unmoved at one of
these sentimental pieces,
was asked how he could be so indifferent? "Why,
truly," says he, "as the
hero is but a tradesman, it is indifferent to me
whether he be turned out
of his counting-house on Fish Street Hill, since he
will still have enough
to open shop in St. Giles'."
The
other objection is as ill-grounded; for though we
should give these pieces
another name, it will not mend their efficacy. It
will continue a kind
of mulish production, with all the defects of its
opposite parents, and
marked with sterility. If we are permitted to make
comedy weep, we have
an equal right to make tragedy laugh, and to set
down in blank verse the
jests and repartees of all the attendants in a
funeral procession.
But
there is one argument in favor of sentimental
comedy, which will keep it
on the stage, in spite of all that can be said
against it. It is, of all
others, the most easily written. Those abilities
that can hammer out a
novel are fully sufficient for the production of a
sentimental comedy.
It is only sufficient to raise the characters a
little; to deck out the
hero with a riband, or give the heroine a title;
then to put an insipid
dialogue, without character or humor, into their
mouths, give them mighty
good hearts, very fine clothes, furnish a new set of
scenes, make a pathetic
scene or two, with a sprinkling of tender melancholy
conversation through
the whole, and there is no doubt but all the ladies
will cry and all the
gentlemen applaud.
Humor
at present seems to be departing from the stage, and
it will soon happen
that our comic players will have nothing left for it
but a fine coat and
a song. It depends upon the audience whether they
will actually drive those
poor merry creatures from the stage, or sit at a
play as gloomy as at the
Tabernacle. It is not easy to recover an art when
once lost; and it will
be but a just punishment, that when, by our being
too fastidious, we have
banished humor from the stage, we should ourselves
be deprived of the art
of laughing.
.
Author
Information
.
She
Stoops to Conquer was written by Oliver
Goldsmith (1730?-1774), a playwright,
novelist, poet, and essayist. His most memorable
novel is The Vicar
of Wakefield (1766). His most memorable poems
are "The Traveller" (1764)
and "The Deserted Village" (1770). He was an
excellent writer who was admired
by the greatest authors of his day.
Goldsmith
was born in Ireland as the son of an Anglican
minister. After graduating
from Trinity College in Dublin, Ireland, he studied
medicine at the University
of Edinburgh in Scotland and the University of
Leiden in The Netherlands.
Then he roamed Europe, eking out a living by playing
the flute and begging.
After arriving in England in 1756, he worked as an
apothecary's helper,
a physician, an assistant teacher at a school, a
translator of texts, and
an author of magazine and newspaper articles. After
establishing his reputation
as a major writer, he spent his money just as
quickly as he made it, gambling
frequently, and was almost always in debt. Though a
polished writer, he
was a clumsy conversationalist. Though many of his
fictional characters
were attractive and desirable, he himself was
homely, vain, socially inept,
and a poor manager of his business affairs. Samuel
Johnson—the
great essayist, poet, critic, and lexicographer—said
of him, "No man was more foolish when he had not a
pen in his hand, or
more wise when he had" (qtd. in "Goldsmith, Oliver."
Britannica 2001
on CD-ROM).
.
Study
Questions and Essay Topics
-
Research
the life of Goldsmith.
Then determine to what extent the personality of
Marlow reflects the personality
of Goldsmith.
-
Specifically,
what incidents
or scenes in the play most effectively poke fun at
the class-consciousness
of the English?
-
What is
the most glaring fault
of each of the main characters?
-
What
redeeming qualities do
the characters have?
-
Why does
Tony despise Constance
Neville? Is the reason that his mother chose her
for him? Or are there
other reasons?
-
What are
the key mix-ups on
which the plot depends?
-
Which
role in the play do you
think poses the greatest challenge for an actor?
Explain your answer.
-
Write an
expository essay focusing
on Goldsmith's considerable influence on
playwrights of the 19th, 20th,
and 21st centuries. Identify several of the
playwrights and explain in
what way Goldsmith influenced them.
-
Write an
expository essay informing
readers of what a typical English theatre was like
in the 1700's.
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