Your friend Walpole has lately done one of the cruellest actions that ever I knew, even in a 'minister of state, these thirty years past; which if the queen hath not intelligence of, may my right hand forget its cunning!

DEAR SIR,

FROM MR. GAY.

WHITEHALL, FEB. 15, 1727-8.

I HAVE deferred writing to you from time to time,

till I could give you an account of the 'Beggar's Opera. It is acted at the playhouse in Lincoln's Inn Fields with such success, that the playhouse has been crowded every night. To night is the fifteenth time of acting; and it is thought it will run a fortnight longer. I have ordered Motte to send the play to you the first opportunity. I made no interest, either for approbation, or money: nor has any body been pressed to take tickets for my benefit: notwithstanding which, I think I shall make an addition to my fortune of between six and seven hundred pounds. I know this account will give you pleasure, as I have pushed through this precarious affair without servility or flattery.

As to any favours from great men, I am in the same state you left me; but I am a great deal happier, as I have expectations. The duchess of Queensberry has signalized her friendship to me upon this occasion, in such a conspicuous manner, that I hope (for her sake) you will take care to put your fork to all its proper

uses,

uses, and suffer nobody for the future to put their knives in their mouths. Lord Cobham says, that I should have printed it in Italian over against the English, that the ladies might have understood what they read. The outlandish (as they now call it) opera has been so thin of late, that some have called that the Beggar's Opera; and if the run continues, I fear I shall have remonstrances drawn up against me by the royal academy of musick. As none of us have heard from you of late, every one of us are in concern about your health: I beg we may hear from you soon. By my constant attendance on this affair, I have almost worried myself into an ill state of health; but I intend in five or six days to go to our country seat, at Twickenham, for a little air. Mr. Pope is very seldom in town. Mrs. Howard frequently asks after you, and desires her compliments to you. Mr. George Arbuthnot, the doctor's brother, is married to Mrs. Peggy Robinson.

I would write more, but as to night is for my benefit I am in a hurry to go out about business. I am, dear sir, your most affectionate and obedient servant,

DEAR SIR,

FROM THE SAME.

J.GAY.

MARCH 20, 1727-8.

I AM extremely sorry that your disorder is return

ed: but as you have a medicine which has twice removed it, I hope by this time you have again found

the good effects of it. I have seen Dr. Delany at my lodgings; but, as I have been for a few days with Mr. Pulteney at Cashioberry, I have not yet returned his visit. I went with him to wait upon lord Bathurst and lord Bolingbroke; both of whom desire me to make you their compliments. Lady Bolingbroke was very much out of order; and with my lord is now at Dawley; she expects a letter from you. Mrs. Howard would gladly have the receipt you have found so much benefit by: she is happier than I have seen her ever since you left us, for she is free as to her conjugal affairs, by articles of agreement. The Beggar's Opera has been acted now thirty-six times, and was as full the last night as the first; and as yet, there is not the least probability of a thin audience: though there is a discourse about the town, that the directors of the royal academy of musick design to solicit against its being played on the outlandish opera days, as it is now called. On the benefit day of one of the actresses last week, one of the players falling sick, they were obliged to give out another play, or dismiss the audience. A play was given out, but the audience called out for the Beggar's Opera; and they were forced to play it, or the audience would not have staid.

I have got by all this success, between seven and eight hundred pounds; and Rich (deducting the whole charge of the house) has cleared already near four thousand pounds. In about a month I am going to the Bath with the duchess of Marlborough and Mr. Congreve; for I have no expectations of receiving any favours from the court. The duchess of Queensberry is in Wiltshire, where she has had the smallpox in so favourable a way, that she had

not

not above seven or eight on her face: she is now perfectly recovered. There is a mezzotinto print published to day of Polly, the heroine of the Beggar's Opera*; who was before unknown, and is now in so high vogue, that I am in doubt, whether her fame does not surpass that of the opera itself. I would not have talked so much upon this subject, or upon any thing that regards myself, but to you: but as I know you interest yourself so sincerely in every thing that concerns me, I believe you would have blamed me if I had said less.

Your singer owes Dr. Arbuthnot some money, I have forgot the sum; I think it is two guineas: the doctor desired me to let you know it. I saw him last night with Mr. Lewis, at sir William Wyndham's, who, if he had not the gout, would have answered your letter you sent him a year and a half ago. He said this to me a week since, but he is now pretty well again, and so may forget to write; for which reason, I ought to do him justice, and tell you, that I think him a sincere well wisher of yours. I have not seen Mr. Pope lately, but have heard that both he and Mrs. Pope are very well. I intend to see him at Twickenham on Sunday next. I have not drunk out the Gutheridge cider yet; but I have not so much as a single pint of port in my cellar. I have bought two pair of sheets against your coming to town, so that we need not send any more to Jervas upon that account. I really miss you every day; and I would be content, that you should have a whole window to yourself, and half another, to

* Miss Fenton.

+ Mr. Pope's mother.

T 3

have

have you again. I am, dear sir, yours most affectionately.

You have a half year's interest due at Ladyday, and now it is March the 20th, 1727-8.

FROM MRS. MARTHA BLOUNT.

SIR,

MAY 7, 1728.

I AM very much pleased with your letter, but I should have thought myself much more obliged, had you been less sincere, and not told me, I did not owe the favour entirely to your inclinations, but to an information that I had a mind to hear from you: and I mistrust you think even that as much as I deserve. If so, you really are not deserving of my repeated inquiries after you, and my constant good wishes and concern for your welfare; which merits some remembrance without the help of another. I cannot say I have a great inclination to write to you, for I have no great vanity that way, at least not enough to support me above the fear of writing ill: but I would fain have you know how truly well I wish you.

I am sorry to hear no good account of your health; mine has been, since Christmas (at which time I had my fever and rash) neither well, nor ill enough to be taken notice of: but within these three weeks I have been sick in form, and kept my bed for a week, and my chamber to this day.

This confinement, together with the mourning, has enabled me to be very easy in my chair hire: