The Beaux’ Stratagem (1707) by George Farquhar, begins at a country inn with the arrival of a gentleman from London, Mr. Aimwell, and his servant Archer. The innkeeper, the honest and hospitable Bonface, makes them welcome. In fact, as the play will reveal, almost none of the cast are quite who they seem. Cherry, the landlord’s daughter, at first suspects from the strongbox full of money that Archer entrusts to Boniface that he is a “parliament-man” come down to Litchfield to buy votes, but then decides that he and his servant are highwaymen in disguise.
Highwaymen are something that Boniface knows about – though he seems to be the archetypal cheery host, he is in fact in league with a gang of thieves led by the highwayman Gibbet (disguised as a soldier), who specialise in working robberies in that area. Boniface is right to be suspicious of the London men: though they aren’t highwaymen, they are both broke gentlemen of fashion who have come down to the country to make fortunes, by marriage if possible. Just for good measure, it turns out that Foigard, the French chaplain in the town, is in fact an Irish renegade. About the only person who turns out to be what she appears is Cherry, who always hoped she was the lost daughter of someone more noble than Boniface.
In its day, The Beaux’ Stratagem was a great success with the London audiences. It became part of the standard repertoire of Restoration comedies, and Boniface’s catchphrase “as the saying is...”, which he repeats at just about any opportunity, became part of English slang for a time. The name of Lady Bountiful, the noblewomen who distributes alms and medecine to the poor around her estates, is still used today, though generally to describe a condescending person.
The Beaux Stratagem’s style is lively and entertaining, particularly in the rapid banter between Cherry and Aimwell. Fans of modern romantic comedy will recognise a great deal in the assumptions of Restoration comedy: that love will win out in the end, that the characters who spar with each other will end up together, that a little disguise and trickery is necessary to achieve a happy ending. As soon as Archer tells Aimwell “Ay, you’re such an amorous puppy, I fear you’ll spoil our sport; you can’t counterfeit the passion without feeling it”, we are firmly in the territory of rom-com.
The satire on contemporary manners and London customs is a little more obscure, but Farquhar’s vigorously idiomatic lines can keep an audience entertained even when they’re unsure of the exact meaning of “insufferable sot”, a “cephalic plaister” or the significance of a “fine long periwig tied up in a bag”!