The Town being amused with the performances of Polly Peachum, who has exerted herself in the Beggar's Opera far above any of her contemporaries at the theatre, the author of these sheets being perfectly acquainted with every remarkable passage of her life, is of opinion, that a collection of the surprising incidents that have happened to her, will entertain the public; and add, if possible, a further lustre to the great name she has already acquired.

            It is said (and with a great deal of truth) of the unhappy Mr Savage, that his misfortunes began before his birth; which is in some sense a parallel case with that of Polly Peachum: for as on the one hand she knew not who to call father, so on the other she had nothing to recommend her to the world, but the gifts of nature: yet, as it will be expected that he, who gives an account of her life, should also give an account of her birth, and of the person who had the honour of having her laid to his charge; the reader is to observe, that her mother, like herself, was not of a very scrupulous conscience, but paid the sacrifice of love, before she performed the ecclesiastical ceremony. The person who had the pleasure of having her mother's first affections, was a lieutenant of a man of war, his name Beswick; and this pretty Polly, who is the subject of the ensuing discourse, was the fruits of their amours, and was born in the year 1708.

            To give the history of the intrigues which passed between her father and mother, would be an amusement not inferior to Robinson Crusoe, or Moll Flanders; but we shall only make use of a letter sent from her father to her mother, when she was big with child: which letter unravels part of the secret, and will be a proper introduction to the proceeding observations.

            To Madam, &c.
            Your beauty, madam, which was once my delight, is now my torment; since I am denied the happy opportunities which have given us such inexpressible felicity: and as a predominant love naturally runs us into jealousy, give me leave to fear, and give me leave to advise. I know, madam, that not a few will expect to make an advantage of my absence; and as you have beauty to attract the most noble, I dread, lest your weakness should be overcome by gay appearances, gold and importunities. There are as many hazards at land as at sea, and a neat vessel (such as you are) may be STranded, run down, or split in the twinkling of the moon, if you have not a hand at the stern, and your eye to the compass. Therefore, my dear, be careful.

            You tell me in yours of yesterday, that you are certainly with child, and that the shame will be too great for you to bear, not having me to comfort and direct you. Prithee, child, banish that fear, and contrive to lie-in like a citizen's daughter, twenty or thirty miles off in the country, and then come up and rejoice with your friends, that you have recovered from your fit of sickness. And for my absence, you ought to let that concern you the less, since I have left a little image of myself behind me; and depend upon it, if I live to return home, I will make that provision, both for you and it as shall convince you that my passion is permanent, and not the flights of an amorous minute. No, madam; if ever I forget you, forget your love, forget our mutual joys, or forget the offspring and product of them, may the ship sink to the bottom of the ocean, and my soul ten thousand fathom deeper! for my passion is so far from palling at enjoyment, that it increases my flame; and assure yourself, it is impossible for me to be more than,

            I am,
            Your sincere slave,
            Beswick.

            P.S. If Hans-en-kelder<130> should ripen into a living monument of our loves, call it Porteus, if a boy; if a girl, Lavinia. And now, adieu, my dear, for two long tedious years.

            Thus the father of Polly being gone to sea, care was taken for a decent lying-in; and accordingly her mother moved to a private place, and was brought to bed, with very little noise and ceremony: for, as Mr Prior says,

Ten months after Philomel happened to wed,
And was brought in a laudable manner to bed,
She warbled her groans with so charming a voice,
That one half of the parish was stunned with the noise;
But when Philomel deigned to lie privately in,
Ten months before she and her spouse were akin,
She chose with such prudence, her pangs to conceal,
That her nurse, nay her midwife, scarce heard her to squeal.

            However, she was baptized by the name of Lavinia, according to the desire of her father; but he not returning from sea, her mother married, whilst Poll was an infant, to one Fenton in the Old Bailey, and she being a woman of a popular spirit, soon after her marriage, got up a coffee-house near Charing Cross; where Polly being a child of a vivacious lively spirit, and a promising beauty, was a play-thing for the fops, and she never failed to afford them an agreeable diversion; and though at this time she was but 7 or 8 years of age, she had some singular turns of wit, which showed her of an aspiring genius, and one that would in time strive with emulation to exceed the bounds of her narrow fortune. It was about this time that a comedian belonging to the Old House, took great delight in hearing her sing such little catches as she had learnt from the humming beaux, or the more elevated strains of her mamma, by whose intercession this gentleman took a great deal of pains with Polly, and taught her some airs, which have since been to her advantage, and in which she daily improved, till her mother sent her to a boarding school, where she stayed till she was about thirteen, and then came home again to live with her mother, who was removed once more into the Old Bailey.

            But before we bring her home from the boarding-school, it may be something entertaining to tell of the pretty little pranks she played there, and how her early inclinations were to shine conspicuous above her contemporaries.

            Polly and the other misses, one day playing in the garden, one of them happened to drop a letter which was but just before delivered to her from an humble servant; and Polly being always active, snatched it up, without being discovered: the purport of it she found was, That the amorous spark was dying for love; that this was his first epistle; and that he should be at the outward Gate about sunset. The suddenness of the interview put Polly's invention upon the rack, how she should be provided for his reception, and disappoint the young lady, to whom she had an utter aversion. To complete which, she informed the Lady Governante, that Miss –– had a billet-doux delivered to her; and that she understood an assignation was made for the evening. This precaution caused an order to be published, that everyone should retire to their apartments, for private reasons; and that one might not take umbrage at another's liberty, there was to be none exempted from this severe confinement; but Polly being the informer, gained the good graces of her lady so far, as to be admitted to the door unknown to the rest in the dusk of the evening, where she had the pleasure of seeing the dying slave walking about in a dejected posture, with his arms across, and every half dozen yards giving a stamp with his foot, and lifting up his eyes with an ejaculatory sigh and groan, that gave Polly assurance he must be the person the waited for. "Sir," said she, "I believe I have a message to deliver to you." The gentleman dumb-founded, like one thunder-struck, turned about, and scarce had power to say, "A message to me, madam!" "Yes, to you, sir," says Polly; "you address to a person that disdains you, and has sent your letter back, there it is; though, sir, to do you justice, a gentleman of your appearance, and one that can write such lost, pleasing, passionate, agreeable things to a lady, deserves better usage at her hands. However, if you have the courage to proceed in the affair, after this repulse, deliver your thoughts to me next Sunday, at church, where we shall be in the morning; and, if possible, I will prevail with the lady to read it, and accept of a heart she seems to have the command of." Upon which, shutting the door, the spark had scarce time to return a grateful bow, before he lost sight of her.

            On the Sunday following, the gentleman came provided with a second epistle; and though he endeavoured to give it Polly in the way to church, he had not the opportunity, without being seen: however, he took care to place himself at the door of the pew into which they went, and Polly took care to be ready to receive the billet. But the mischief of it was, the spark ogling the lady that had set his heart on fire, caused her to take notice of him, and might believe him to be the person who sent her the letter she had lost; and what might reasonably confirm her in the truth of such a suspicion, the observed, that whilst his eyes were attentively fixed on her, he delivered a letter to Polly unsealed, carelessly wrapped up, and without directions; and she getting up to receive it, as her proper right, or to be informed of her mistake by Polly, an unmerciful merry thought came into Polly's head, the prosecution of which put the gentleman in the utmost confusion, damped the expectations of the lady, and gave Polly the most agreeable diversion that a young girl (too young to be acquainted with love, and yet old enough for fancy) could be capable of receiving; for what did this unlucky pretty little witty devil do, but hand it forwards; so that in less than two minutes, the poor expiring lover had the mortification to see it in the clumsy fist of the clerk, who gave it to the parson, who was provided for receiving billets of another nature.

            Not long after this, another remarkable incident happened, which may inform the reader, that she was soon ripe; though it is to be hoped the proverb will not be verified in her, Soon ripe, soon rotten.

            A gallant spark of the Inner Temple, seeing her one night at a ball, fell deeply in love with her, and took occasion to let her know it, both by letter and personal application; and though she was scarce thirteen, she felt such emotions for young Noverint Universi<131>, that she suffered the servant to take bribes to let him into the garden, and would frequently bless him with an hour's conversation; and here it is said (by those who are acquainted with her most private actions from her infancy to this time) that she fell as deeply in love with the Templar, as he could possibly be with her; yet she had ever that discretion to make a distinction between the secret impulses of her heart, and the expressions of the tongue, daily seeing by experience, that when a woman lets the sentiments of her soul out at her lips, her love is counted fondness; and the man that was ready to die at her feet, will be ready to stigmatize her for a good-natured fool. Hypocrisy being now made a necessary ingredient in affairs of love, and downright dealing the only impediment that can make a promising view prove abortive; she therefore kept him at a convenient distance, and seemed to give way to his courtship only, as a grateful complaisance to a man that merited something which she was uncapable of granting. And with this pretended indolent temper the made use of that infallible net for catching men in love, A KILLING COYNESS. And, alas! Poor Polly! The spark happening in company where her name was mentioned, took occasion to enquire into her private affairs, and finding her birth and fortune were such as would but bring a disgrace to his family, he left her.

            This disappointment made such an impression in her mind, that the company at the boarding-school became burdensome, and the pleasant garden where she used to delight herself with the young lawyer, intolerable; and as an expedient to wear off the dilemma she lay under, she left the school, and came home to her mother, who finding her daughter's temper altered from the gay to the melancholy, she took her to the park, the play, and to all entertainments that might conduce to recover her to her former vivacity. But well had it been for Polly, if she had continued at the boarding-school; for dress and company soon made her vain, and in a little time the needed no further allurements to entice her; yet, it cannot be said by her greatest enemies, that she was ever a common prostitute, as some would insinuate, nor that she was ever ungenerous or dishonourable to her benefactors.

            It was in 1725, when Polly fell first a sacrifice to Priapus; and about that time her mother had an intrigue upon her hands, which began at the playhouse, and ended in the bed-chamber: the gentleman, who was her mother's gallant, would fain have been an humble servant of Polly's, but the mother, notwithstanding she indulged the tempting baits which were daily offered her, yet at last the kept her for some great man; and bade her, above all things, to observe this; that the first market a woman made, was always the best; and second-hand goods would fetch but a second-hand price. And it's confidently reported, that lest Polly should fling away her charms on someone who could not purchase them at a price more exorbitant than Laïs demanded of Demosthenes, her mother made overtures to a certain ludicrous knight, known by the name of the Feathered Gull, and the bargain was made as followeth: that upon the first surrender, Polly should have 200l. in ready specie, and be decked in all the mundus mulieris<132> at the knight's expense; that she should have 200l. per annum while she remained constant, but if she suffered the enemy to beat up her quarters, she was to be divested of all her ornaments at once, and driven out of paradise.

            But whilst the mother was thus bargaining for her ware, Polly was no less active in providing for herself; and a Portuguese nobleman, being her only favourite, she consented, unknown to her mother, to give him the prize, which he generously rewarded; and accordingly, on a Friday, in the year 1725, he sent his own coach into the Old Bailey, by appointment; and after the coach had waited three hours, she went into it, and was carried to the place of assignation, where the nobleman kept her till the Monday following, and then sent her home again in the same coach. But this person being unhappy in his private affairs, after some time spent in raptures at his own house, he brought her to her mother, and promised he would make a provision for her, to the merit of so fine a creature. And, to do him justice, his generosity was above his patrimony, insomuch, that his stock was exhausted, before his appetite was palled; and falling into the hands of some severe creditors, he was arrested and carried to the Fleet.

            Whilst the Portuguese nobleman lay confined in the fleet, a mercer's apprentice, who now keeps a shop of that business near the Royal Exchange, then living upon Ludgate Hill, fell deeply in love with Polly: seeing her one night at the playhouse, the poor smitten spark was so captivated at first sight of her, that he could scarce forbear making love to her before the face of the whole audience; his colour went and came, he sighed, trembled, and in short, felt all those emotions which men in love are subject to. After the play was over, he watched her into a coach, and lest he should miss of her in a throng of whirligigs, he very orderly got up behind, and was soon set down at her door in the Old Bailey; but his love was so strong, as deprived him of any other strength; insomuch, that when Polly stepped out of the coach into the house, his soul was near stepping out of his body, he was so far overcome by his amorous passion. All night he waited about the door, sometimes sighing, and sometimes raving, fearing she was a married woman; or doubting if she were not, such a fine creature as she was, would repulse him, being but a young lad, and not out of his apprenticeship: but when the morning came, he was eased from part of his pain; for upon enquiry after her, he found that she was a single woman; and at the same time he heard who she was, that she was a person of a noble mind, though of but a narrow fortune, which did not put the least damp to him, he having a pretty handsome estate, when he came to age, and was willing to lay both that and himself at her feet, and the next day he picked up a little courage (yet with a heart almost broken for fear of a denial) and went to inform her of his passion.

            Polly, who had ever a great deal of wit, as well as good manners, received him like a gentleman, and entertained him very courteously; but at the same time the assured him, that though he came with seeming honourable pretensions, for which she could not but use him with civility, yet there were some private reasons which would keep her from a married state, and make his pretensions to her of none effect.

            This so dumbfounded the spark, that he could scarce make a reply; but, at length, recollecting his fleeting spirits, he addressed himself in such generous and honest terms, that she could not but have some respect and compassion for his youth; and as she saw he was sincere, she obligingly told him, that the gods dealt with mortals in a manner unaccountable, and the fate of things often came about by unforeseen accidents; therefore she would not obstinately give him a denial, but told him, that her apartment was so far at his service, that he should be welcome to spend an hour there, when he could find leisure, but bid him not be too confident upon the little hopes she might give him, by admitting this freedom, lest he should meet with a disappointment. Overjoyed at this promising success, the youth knew not how to express himself; nor could she keep him from his knees, to show his thankfulness with the greater humility.

            He seldom missed seeing her every day from the beginning of July 1725, to the latter end of August; and sometimes she would favour him with her company abroad: when, though he was but a lad, he had always some pretty things to say to her, and she in return was at length so generous as to tell her mind freely, that he must never expect to have her, though she condescended to please him with her company; for, to deal plainly and honestly with him, she told him her heart was disposed of otherways. This struck such a damp to the young lover, he could scarce contain himself: yet, as she had never flattered him with any real expectations, he had nothing to reproach her for. But Polly seeing his passion rather increasing every day, resolved not to act dishonourably by a youth who acted so honourably by her; and as she could not consent to marry him, since she had given her heart to the Portuguese nobleman, she feared if she should indulge his passion longer, the conclusion might he attended with some dreadful effects. To prevent which, she told him he must endeavour to set his heart at ease, for she could  not comply with his desires upon any terms or conditions whatsoever, and therefore he must desist from coming to her house for the future, since it was impossible he should conquer his passion by means which served only to inflame it. Which words, like a dagger to his soul, put him in the greatest agony, and sent him home in deep despair and melancholy, not stirring out of the house from Monday to the Friday following, when he sent her the following letter.

            "Divine destroyer!
            "What have I done, that Heaven should sentence me to die by the hands of an executioner who has the appearance of an angel! Must you, who never gave me a vindictive frown to torment me, nor a treacherous smile to allure me (two weapons with which your sex do all the execution!) now destroy me, after so much goodness of admitting me in your presence, when you knew my passion. Could you see any merits in me at first, that inclined you to that kindness; or did you suffer me to go on and discover fresh beauties in you every day, till the god of love had fired my heart beyond all cure, that my grief at the disappointment might sink me to the grave for my presumption? Or did you discover any demerits in me after my admittance to that paradise, your apartment? Tell me, divine charmer! What had I done to gain the little esteem you seemed to have for me; and what have I done to lose it? I should outdo the greatest romance with truth, could I recount the extravagances of mind I have had, and the perturbations of soul I have felt; insomuch, that I am as uncapable of business, as I am of pleasure. A lady, this morning, asked for a green silk, I handed her a scarlet camlet, and told her it was India damask. She, surprised at my stupidity, asked me who I was in love with, which recovered me for that minute out of my confusion; but the distemper returns each hour, and I find the effects of love is such as I could never yet find a right description of it, either among poets or philosophers.

            "When I first had the happiness of your dear sweet conversation, I concluded with the poet; that

Love is a generous passion of the mind,
The softest refuge innocence can find;
The safe director of unguarded youth,
Taught with kind wishes, and secured by truth.
The cordial drop, heaven in our cup has thrown,
To make the nauseous draught of life go down.
Dryden. <133>

            "But, alas! I am now confirmed in the contrary; and by woeful experience I find,

That love, of all the passions, is the worst;
With which a man's no sooner touched, but cursed.
For love to madness sure is near allied,
A thin partition does the two divide.

            "And madness sure, must be my lot, since I find it impossible to command a passion so strong and powerful of myself; and you, who have the cure in your own hands, refuse to be my physician: yet, though you have denied me to approach you any more, be so kind, my angel, to send me a line either as a sword to dispatch me, or as a cordial to comfort, the otherways comfortless,
            "&c. &c. &c."

            To which Polly, the next morning, sent the following answer.

            "SIR,
            "Your seeming sincerity induced me to show you some respect, it's true; but I never entertained you so as you could have the leaf prospect of making me your wife, nor could I with honour give you any hopes that way; forasmuch as I am too deeply engaged with another, to admit of your proposals: for which reason I frequently intimated to you, that your desires could not with any possibility be granted; and upon your still pursuing your addresses, I was obliged to give you an abrupt denial.

Then, sir, no more your fond desires pursue,
Since I, with honour, can't comply with you;
Heavens bless you in some other choice: adieu.

            "LAVINIA."

            The Portuguese nobleman still continued in the Fleet, and her mother at that time failing, she went and lived within a door or two of Cowplands, the great soap-boiler's in the Old Bailey; and her generosity to this gentleman under confinement was such, as is seldom found in a woman wholly abandoned to pleasure; for instead of seeking out for another gallant (or rather entertaining another, for she wanted not for humble servants) she took his misfortunes to heart, and paying him a kind visit, begged he would tell her how she might be serviceable to him. He seeing her singular humanity, seemed rather to choose confinement, than to lay any burden upon so much good nature; he therefore told her, he would wait there with patience till he could have money remitted over to him from his own country; and desired her in the meantime, that she would not make his troubles her own, but take her pleasure in the town; and if she would now and then condescend to bless him with an hour's conversation, it would make his confinement tolerable; and if he lived once more to enjoy his liberty, his whole life amid be devoted to her service.

            Polly was so sensibly touched with this kind way of his expressing himself, that she immediately, without his knowledge, went and sold all her rings, jewels, and other valuable curiosities (most part of which he had aforetime given her) and purchased his enlargement; after which, he went over into his own country: and the generous returns he made for this unparalleled generosity in her shall be taken notice of in its place.

            It was in this same year 1725, that she began to think of treading the stage; and she haying a lively imagination, joined with a good memory, a clear voice, and a graceful mien, seemed as if nature had designed her for the pleasure of mankind, in such performances as are exhibited at our theatres.

            And what conduced very much to recommend her to the stage, was the following lines, which she composed on an empty fop that would have taken her into keeping, provided she would go down into the country, and be cloistered up in a little village of his near Richmond in Yorkshire.

Vain fop, to court me to a rural life;
Let him reserve that usage for a wife.
A mistress, sure, may claim more liberty,
Unbound by nature, and by law she's free.
Monster! thy country cottage I disdain,
In London let me live, and let me reign;
The seat of pleasure, where we, unconfined,
Delight the body, and improve the mind.
To park we range, where youth and beauty shines,
There we intrigue and manage brave designs
Give me a play, a ball, or masquerade,
And let who will enjoy your lonesome shade,
Lavinia, for more noble ends was made.
Let some fond wench to your wild village run,
And, though a mistress, be a cloistered nun.
Curious of worth, I prize my freedom more,
Than to withdraw like an abandoned w––.

            These lines falling into the hands of a certain nobleman, he endeavoured by all means to get her into the playhouse, perceiving she had wit and spirit, that would certainly gain her admirers, if he could but get her admitted; but this was not done without great difficulty.

            Mr Huddy (now master of a strolling company) being turned out of the playhouse in Lincoln's Inn Fields, in February 1726, had The Orphan, or the Unhappy Marriage, for a benefit, a month after, at the New Theatre in the Haymarket, which was in March; and at his benefit Polly had the honour of first mounting the stage; and though it was her first time, the gained such applause, that she had several presents made her, and some billets; one in particular from a young ensign; which is here faithfully transcribed from the original copy.

            "Madam,
            "You may be a person of honour, for aught I know to the contrary, and I hope you will be so honourable, as not to let a man of honour die dishonourably at your feet; for, by heavens! Though I thought nothing so bright as my sword; yet I find your eyes are much brighter. My dear, dear guardian angel, could you conceive the anxiety I suffer on your account, you would surely pity me; for there's never an officer in our regiment, but takes notice of my being changed, (since I saw you upon the stage) from the most lively, brisk, fashionable, mannerly, genteel beau in the whole army, to the most dull, insipid, slovenly, out-o'-th'-way tempered dunce in Christendom. Damn me, madam, if I am not so overcharged with love, that my heart, which is the bullet in the barrel of my body, will certainly burst and blow me into atoms, if I have not your help to discharge the burden; and then, Blood! Madam! I am guilty of so many blunders and mistakes in the execution of my office, that I am become a laughing-stock to the whole army. Yesterday I put my sword on the wrong side; and this morning I came into the Park with one of my stockings the inside outward; and instead of applying myself to the colonel in the usual terms of, 'Most noble sir!' I looked pale, and with an affected damned cringe, called him 'Madam.' Thus, madam, you see how far I am gone already. Then, to keep me from Bedlam, take me to your arms, when I will lay down my arms, and be your slave and vassal"

            She had other letters sent her by others of a different kind; some courting her after the platonic manner, others, like Ovid, more soft and sweet.

            After she had acted a part in the play, for Mr Huddy's benefit, she was allowed to have a benefit herself with one Mr Gilbert, at the same place, five weeks after. The play they chose, was, The Beaux's Stratagem, written by Mr Farquhar; and Polly acted the part of Cherry Boniface, the innkeeper's daughter, in such a winning manner, that the house even contended who should most applaud her for the performance.

            This benefit turned much to Polly's advantage, as well as honour, and gained her so much favour with some noblemen present, that they promoted her into the company of young comedians, who acted twice a week, during that summer season, at the playhouse in Lincoln's Inn Fields; and Polly's being admitted one of them, she had a part of the advantage, which accrued from their performances; and every time of acting, she gained new admirers, insomuch, that intercession was made with Mr Rich to have her taken into the house as a stated actress, which he agreed to, and being admitted the ensuing winter, was allowed fifteen shillings per week.

            Polly becoming now the most celebrated toast in town, she gained new admirers every time she appeared on the stage, and persons of the highest rank and quality made love to her; insomuch, that by the presents she has received, she lives in ease and plenty, keeps her servants, and appears abroad in as much magnificence as a Lady.

            The first lover that courted her favours since she has charmed the town with her fine warbling in the Beggar's Opera, was a noble Knight of the Bath; a person of too noble a mind to participate of the pleasure with her, without some valuable consideration: and indeed Polly has so much wit, and is so well acquainted with men and things, that he must be a man of honour, as well as sense and generosity, who is admitted to be of her Cabinet Council: yet this must be said in her behalf, that she is above asking money for dispensing her favours; and yet not so foolish as to surrender before the sees the glittering bait, for by some pretty witty tale, smile, parable or fable, she insinuates so finely, that her sparks are always ready to offer a diamond ring, a green purse, a watch, gold snuff-box, or some valuable trinket.

            A spark of hers, known by the name of Horse-Courser-General, came to her one evening, and begged she would excuse his rough manner of address, for he was as mettlesome as a stallion, and could not be kept in with a curb-bridle, but must, without further apology, faith must he ––. "Hold in your reins, good sir," says Polly, "do you ever run a race at Newmarket before you stake; pray tell me how many stone you carry, whether you propose to trot, gallop, or pace, and then we'll draw up preliminaries, sign, seal, and deliver." "You pretty jennet," said the knight, "I shall ride without either whip or spur, and I'll lay you 50 guineas, there it is, I hold the rate of 30 miles an hour." "For how many minutes?" said Polly. "For 5," said the knight. "You don't hold it for 2," said Polly. "A match," said he, "done, done." Upon which, they started, and Polly won; for he foundered between two hills, and lost breath in one minute, three seconds, and two moments.

            It was not long, before a young amorous D––, who, tired with hymeneal duty, would needs be admitted amongst the number of her humble servants; and accordingly he came in an extraordinary manner, gave her sixty pounds, and like a reasonable man took a whole night to consider upon it.

            The Portuguese nobleman, mentioned before, hearing of Polly's vast success, and gratefully remembering her generosity to him when he was under confinement, sent her over 400 pounds; and fearing that she should be quite run away with, by the report he daily received of the number of her slaves, he came over himself, to enjoy the pleasures which all the world covets; and to assure her, that the Portuguese ladies were but mere dowdies in comparison of his dear Polly: and, as we shall show by what follows, he met with such a kind reception from her, as overwhelmed him with joy and ecstasy.

            In the last Passion week, the noble horse-courser going for Newmarket, desired her company part of the way; which she consenting to, they went with a chariot drawn by four horses, and staying that night at Enfield, they made another match; but how far they run, how long they run, and how swift they run, is yet a secret. However, since her agility is known to be extraordinary, it is not doubted but Polly was on the winning side; for the next day she came back in the chariot with a great deal of pleasure, and the old knight, it's said, pursued his journey in but a heavy posture.

            On the 29th of April last, she had her benefit-night, and the play she chose, was The Stratagem, in which she acted Cherry; but she offended the best part of her friends, by laying pit and boxes together, insomuch, that she had a great many of her tickets returned,: but the generosity of Mr R––h made amends for this disappointment, for he took the money for that night to himself; and on the Saturday following gave her a benefit again, when the Beggar's Opera was acted with great applause before a crowded audience, and Polly exerted herself so far, that the claps of her officious friends were so frequent and loud, that it took off the beauty of the performance.

            This singular piece of generosity in Mr R––h, gives occasion for people to make their observations; and most are of opinion, that the nimble harlequin has a private understanding with her; and since she has been so famous for acting her part in the Beggar's Opera, she has been advanced to thirty shillings per week, and if she merits the same praise in other performances, as she does in this, it is not doubted but it will be raised to something more considerable.

            A certain poet, who treats her, praises her, kisses her, &c. till he is uncapable to write a single stanza on any other subject than that of Polly, being swallowed up in rapture one night at a certain tavern, he burn out into the following ecstasy:

Ye gods! Ye goddesses! Ye muses nine!
And thou, my father Bacchus! God of wine,
Let pretty Poll be your peculiar care,
Make her as great, as she is wise and fair:
For she! Even she! Like alchemists of old,
Transformed my lead to glittering solid gold.
Let no contagion, or mischance befall
My life! My angel! Heavenly goddess, Poll!
Guard her, let not the clapping crowds bewitch her,
For she is! O good gods! I'll go and ––

            Hert amours are not inferior to those of the celebrated Sally Salisbury, nor have her gallants been less generous to her than they were to that once famous beauty. But to do Polly justice, she is not to be mentioned in comparison with Sally; for it's well known by those who have had the pleasure of conversation with Polly, that she has a penetrating genius, whereas the other had only some low-life flights of wit to recommend her, and by being twice in her company, her conversation became insipid, dull, and nauseous; when on the contrary, Polly has so many smart, as well as polite repartees, such a grace in the delivery, and withal so little of that affectation which frequently makes a witty woman's company intolerable, that the oftener any one hears her converse, the oftener he will desire it, and will improve himself by her profound skill in several faculties, as well as divert himself with her merry sayings and smart returns of gallantry: for it must be acknowledged, that her beauty has not gained her so many admirers as her sense, and the good use the makes on't.

            She was once in company with a fop and a fine gentleman, who each addressed her in their turns, but in a very different manner, and Polly very ingeniously gave each of them such suitable answers; as converted the fop, and made the man of sense a mere fool. For from that time, he was ready to lay down his life and estate at her service. "Madam," said the fop, "you have a very fine hand, which adds a great grace to your person." "Sir," said Polly, "you have a very fine snuff-box, which adds a singular grace to yours." "Madam," said he, "be pleased to take a pinch out of it" (at the same time presenting it with a ridiculous affected air) "my snuff is very good for the brain." "Sir," said she, "I frequently observe where the brain is defective, snuff is of great use, and though it cannot properly be called either a restorative or a provocative, yet certainly it is a good preparative to expel dullness." "You are very witty and satirical, madam," said he. "Sir," said she, "if your snuff would inspire me with wit, I would satirize upon your box."

            The other gentleman finding Polly too many for the fop, and not willing to have him quite made a sacrifice, very humanly interposed; and after desiring to be excused for interruption, "Madam," says he, "with that very air in which you this minute appeared, the town has obliged you with your picture in mezzotinto." "Sir," said she, "the town may picture me as they please; but was the town to be pictured running to the Beggar's Opera, I am sure it would be to my advantage." "I hope, madam," said he, "you would not rally the town for their good opinion of your performances." "No truly, sir," said she, "I am glad the town is governed by opinion and caprice; but that is more than I would have said to a gentleman of less penetration and generosity than yourself: you, sir, discern things in their proper light, and are satisfied that neither Mr Gay, nor myself have outdone our outdoings, as Colley expresses it, but we in this have spoke the town on the weak-side the head, and made it so giddy, I fear in a little time it will fall, and dash the brains out of the Beggar's Opera." This she spoke with such pleasing accents, as took the gentleman she was speaking to, on the weak side the head; in such a manner, that he flung himself at her feet; and told her, let the town be mistaken in what manner they would, they could never be mistaken who espoused her cause; for sure she was more than woman. And, in short, he fell so deeply in love with Polly, that though his title is no less than an Earl, he submits himself like a slave at Polly's footstool. And not only this, but several noblemen, who have distinguished themselves by great actions, both in the field and the C––, are now Polly's most humble servants; for though she now is but in a mean capacity, yet she has something so noble in her presence, she is so sweet in her conversation, and withal so grateful and obliging to her benefactors, that her lovers are not ashamed of their amours, forasmuch as they are devoted to the shrine of one who is mistress of so many perfections.

            She is a good historian, and will frequently quote the authority of Plutarch to confirm her opinion of things, not obstinately persisting in the woman's reason, It is so, because it is so; but she will argue very profoundly, both with regard to politics and plays, and will rally and criticise as finely as any of her sex in Christendom; and never leaves a company, but she leaves them something to charge their memories withal.

            She is such a judge of painting, that the greatest of our modern artists in this profession are glad to have her opinion of a piece before it is shown to the world, knowing, that if it escapes her censure, it will gain the approbation of the whole town; for she is so nice in the discovery of an error, that it's as impossible to deceive her, as it is to express her strength of fancy: yet, what makes her the most valuable of any woman that ever was reputed for gallantry, is that, notwithstanding her wit and skill, she is the most humble, the most affable, and the least conceited of any woman (that is both wise and beautiful) in the King's dominions. Nor will she bear to hear encomiums on herself, it being a greater affront to praise her before her face, and she resents it more than if she was to be publicly called gilt, coquette, or even common whore or strumpet.

            She was invited some time since to see a fine gallery of history-painting, where she read every story at first sight so pathetically, and moralized upon each history so ingeniously, that the owner could not forbear launching too far in her praises. "Sir," said she, "I beg, if you would not have me loathe and detest you, that you will not act the parasite, I understand but what everyone ought to know, and am not therefore worthy of your commendations." Seeing her a little moved, he led her into the hall to see the family pictures, where she took occasion to admire the gravity of the one, the venerable aspect of another, and the juvenile vigour of a third, and took care not to forget Sir Godfrey Kneller in her observations, who could make a family live upon canvas after they had been a hundred years buried in their graves.

            It is observed before, that she is a good judge of poetry, and very often exerts herself in the praise or dispraise of any performances that appear either beautiful or contemptible. Some time since, a gentleman of a better estate in the kingdoms of Great Britain than in the land of Parnassus, and is more familiar with the ladies of the town than with Apollo's daughters, showed Polly a copy of verses, which, he said, he had wrote with a great deal of pains; that he had wrote his thought first in prose, and then after letting them lie a year fallow, he had cultivated and improved them into verse: the design was taken from the story of Ulysses and Penelope; but he being of opinion, that Ulysses was not so continent, nor Penelope altogether so chaste as the Greek poet had represented them to be, had given them a little more liberty, and given the hero a lady in his travels, and his spouse a favourite at home, to pass now and then a tedious night with this fine copy. The gentleman desired Polly to peruse, and give him her thoughts on them the next opportunity; accordingly, he came to wait on Polly two or three days after, when she not being at leisure to wait on him, sent her servant with them downstairs, with this answer from Polly, that she had wrote her thoughts on the back-side of them: which were as follows.

Sir,
To give my opinion in an humble strain,
Your muse is rude, and your improvements vain.
Ne'er contradict what Gods of verse have done,
Nor judge the Grecian ladies by our own.
Each day new subjects for your verse affords,
Of lady prudes kept by cornuted lords,
Or porters drunk, or dangling thieves in cords.
Take that, or this, or choose you which you will,
We've native themes t'employ your natural skill.

            I shall add to Polly's wit two or three instances of her humanity and good nature, and I think she may pass for an accomplished worthy lady, if the public will allow an actress the title.

            Her reputed father, Mr Fenton, being now living, and in very mean circumstances, Polly is so generous as to allow him a decent maintenance, and entertains him with the same duty and respect as if he was her real father, without so much as desiring it should be by others, or that he himself should cringe to her for his allowance, but makes him use as much freedom in coming or sending for it as if it were his due; which evidently demonstrates, that what she does is out of a principle of humanity.

            Another remarkable instance of her charity was seen in her own neighbourhood. A poor milk-woman, who has married a black husband, was brought to bed of two tawny children at a birth, and the neighbours being mostly either too rich to take any notice of the poor woman, or so poor and ill-natured, that she could not be provided with gossips<134> at their being baptized, Polly hearing of it, sent her maid to stand godmother for her by proxy, and gave her half a guinea to give the poor woman for an immediate supply, and after the ceremony she went herself, relieved the woman very generously in that exigency, and ordered her to make free in sending to her house during the time of her lying-in, for such necessaries as she should have occasion for. This being rumoured about, a tailor's wife being brought to bed some time since, and not being provided with gossips, Polly went and offered herself to stand, which they gladly accepted of, and she called the child by the name of Polly Peachum, it being a girl.

            The latest and most noble of actions was but in April last, when the Portuguese nobleman, mentioned before, and so well noted in town, happened to fall again into some trouble, when, without hesitation, she sent him 300l. in cash, which redeemed him from an arrest from which he knew not how to get clear, nor had he courage to apply to her from whom he had received such unparalleled favours before; but her timely generosity put him out of all anxiety, and now they live together in one house, enjoying the utmost felicity, and their tempers exactly suiting each other, makes up a complete harmony.

FINIS.

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