A little before the restoration of Charles the IId, he became a gentleman commoner of queen's college in Oxford, and lived in the provost's lodgings; and was entered in the public library, under the title of philosophiæ studiosus, in July 1660. He quitted the university without being matriculated, having, according to the Oxford antiquary, been reconciled to the protestant religion, which he had renounced during his travels, probably by the person of those gay ladies, with whom he conversed in France. This circumstance shews how dangerous it is to engage in a debate with a female antagonist, especially, if that antagonist joins beauty with understanding.
Mr. Wycherley afterwards entered himself in the Middle-Temple; but making his first appearance in town, in a reign when wit and gaiety were the favourite distinctions, he relinguished the study of the law, and engaged in pursuits more agreeable to his own genius, and the gallant spirit of the times.
Upon writing his first Play, entitled Love in a Wood, or St. James's Park; and acted at the Theatre-royal, in 1672, he became acquainted with several of the most celebrated wits, both of the court and town; and likewise with the duchess of Cleveland. Mr. Dennis, in his Letters quoted above, has given a particular relation of the beginning of his acquaintance with this celebrated beauty of the times, which is singular enough.—One day Mr. Wycherley riding in his chariot through St. James's Park, he was met by the duchess, whose chariot jostled with his, upon which she looked out of her chariot, and spoke very audibly, "You Wycherley, you are a son of a whore," and then burst into a fit of laughter. Mr. Wycherley at first was very much surprized at this, but he soon recovered himself enough to recollect, that it was spoke in allusion to the latter end of a Song in his Love in a Wood;
When parents are slaves,
Their brats cannot be any other;
Great wits, and great braves,
Have always a punk for their mother.
During Mr. Wycherley's surprize, the chariots drove different ways, they were soon at a considerable distance from each other; when Mr. Wycherley recollecting, ordered his coachman to drive back, and overtake the lady. As soon as he got over against her, he said to her, "Madam, you was pleased to bestow a title upon me, which generally belongs to the fortunate. Will your ladyship be at the play to night? Well, she replied, what if I should be there? Why then, answered he, I will be there to wait on your ladyship, though I disappoint a fine woman, who has made me an assignation. So, said she, you are sure to disappoint a woman who has favoured you, for one who has not. Yes, he replied, if she who has not favoured me is the finer woman of the two: But he who will be constant to your ladyship, till he can find a finer woman, is sure to die your captive."
The duchess of Cleveland, in consequence of Mr. Wycherley's compliment, was that night, in the first row of the king's box in Drury-Lane, and Mr. Wycherley in the pit under her, where he entertained her during the whole play; and this was the beginning of a correspondence between these two persons, which afterwards made a great noise in the town.
This accident, was the occasion of bringing Mr. Wycherley into favour with George duke of Buckingham, who was passionately in love with that lady, but was ill-treated by her, and who believed that Mr. Wycherley was his happy rival. The duke had long sollicited her, without obtaining any favour: Whether the relation between them shocked her, for she was his cousin-german; or, whether she apprehended that an intrigue with a person of his rank and character, must necessarily in a short time come to the king's ears; whatever was the cause, she refused so long to admit his visits, that at last indignation, rage, and disdain took place of love; and he resolved to ruin her. When he took this resolution, he had her so narrowly watched by his spies, that he soon discovered those whom he had reason to believe were his rivals; and after he knew them, he never failed to name them aloud, in order to expose the lady to all those who visited her; and among others, he never failed to mention Mr. Wycherley. As soon as it came to the knowledge of the latter, who had all his expectations from court, he apprehended the consequences of such a report, if it should reach the King; and applied himself therefore to Wilmot earl of Rochester, and Sir Charles Sedley, entreating them to remonstrate to the duke of Buckingham, the mischief he was about to do to one who had not the honour to know him, and who had not offended him. Upon opening the matter to the duke, he cried out immediately, that he did not blame Wycherley, he only accused his cousin. 'Ay, but they replied, by rendering him suspected of such an intrigue, you are about to ruin him; that is, your grace is about to ruin a man, whose conversation you would be pleased with above all things.'
Upon this occasion, they said so much of the shining qualities of Mr. Wycherley, and the charms of his conversation, that the duke, who was as much in love with wit, as he was with his cousin, was impatient, till he was brought to sup with him, which was in two or three nights. After supper, Mr. Wycherley, who was then in the height of his vigour, both in body and mind, thought himself obliged to exert his talents, and the duke was charmed to that degree, that he cried out with transport, and with an oath, 'My cousin's in the right of it.' and from that very moment made a friend of a man he before thought his rival.
In the year 1673 a comedy of his called the Gentleman Dancing-Master, was acted at the duke's Theatre, and in 1678 his Plain Dealer was acted with general applause. In 1683 his Country Wife was performed at the same Theatre. These Plays raised him so high in the esteem of the world, and so recommended him to the favour of the duke of Buckingham, that as he was master of the horse, and colonel of a regiment, he bestowed two places on Wycherley: As master of the horse, he made him one of his equeries; and as colonel of a regiment, a captain lieutenant of his own company. King Charles likewise gave our author the most distinguishing marks of favour, perhaps beyond what any sovereign prince had shewn before to an author, who was only a private gentleman: Mr. Wycherley happened to be ill of a fever, at his lodgings in Bow-Street, Covent-Garden; during his sickness, the king did him the honour of a visit; when finding his fever indeed abated, but his body extremely weakened, and his spirits miserably shattered, he commanded him to take a journey to the south of France, believing that nothing could contribute more to the restoring his former state of health, than the gentle air of Montpelier, during the winter season: at the same time, the king assured him, that as soon as he was able to undertake that journey, he would order five-hundred pounds to be paid him, to defray the expences of it.
Mr. Wycherley accordingly went to France, and returned to England the latter end of the spring following, with his health entirely restored. The king received him with the utmost marks of esteem, and shortly after told him, he had a son, whom he resolved should be educated like the son of a king, and that he could make choice of no man so proper to be his governor as Mr. Wycherley; and, that for this service, he should have fifteen-hundred pounds a year allotted him; the King also added, that when the time came, that his office should cease, he would take care to make such a provision for him, as should set him above the malice of the world and fortune. These were golden prospects for Mr. Wycherley, but they were soon by a cross accident dashed to pieces.