Marriage Quote by William Congreve

Congreve lands the insult with the elegance of a man who knows exactly how much damage a well-tailored metaphor can do. By framing courtship as a “very witty prologue,” he flatters the social theater of flirting, repartee, and strategic self-display, then yanks the rug: the “play” that follows - marriage - is “very dull.” The line isn’t just anti-romance; it’s anti-institution, skeptical of the way erotic energy gets domesticated into routine and obligation.

The mechanics matter. “Prologue” implies performance, an opening act designed to seduce an audience into attention. Courtship, in Congreve’s world, is a marketplace of charm where language is currency and desire is sharpened by uncertainty. The wit is not accidental; it’s the point. You don’t court to reveal yourself, you court to edit yourself into something worth wanting. That’s why it’s funny: the most “authentic” part of the relationship is the most artificial.

Congreve wrote inside the Restoration comedy tradition, where marriage is less a sacrament than a plot device and a contract, often negotiated amid infidelity, inheritance, and social climbing. His audiences would recognize the joke as cultural reportage: once the chase ends, the couple is absorbed into property, duty, and respectability. The subtext is acidic but controlled: society prizes the prologue, then insists everyone sit politely through the long, boring middle. Congreve’s wit doesn’t argue that love dies; it suggests society structures it to.