he _on dit_ ran that it had made Gay Rich, and Rich
Gay. On its first night there was a brilliant assemblage. What painter
shall give their heads and faces on that anxious evening--Swift's
lowering front--Pope's bright eyes contrasting with the blind orbs
of Congreve (if _he_ indeed were there)--Addison's quiet, thoughtful
physiognomy, as of one retired into some "Vision of Mirza"--the Duke of
Argyle, with his star and stately form and animated countenance--and
poor Gay himself perhaps, like some other play-wrights in the same
predicament, perspiring with trepidation, as if again about to recite the
"Captives!" At first uncertainty prevails among the patron-critics, and
strange looks are exchanged between Swift and Pope, till, by and by, the
latter hears Argyle exclaim, "It will do, it must do! I see it in the
eyes of 'em;" and then the critics breathe freely, and the applauses
become incontrollable, and the curtain closes at last amidst thunders of
applause; and Gay goes home triumphant, amidst a circle of friends,
who do not know whether more to wonder at his success or at their own
previous apprehensions. For sixty-three nights continuously the piece is
acted in London; then it spreads through England, Scotland, Wales, and
Ireland. Ladies sing its favourite songs, or carry them in their fans.
Miss Fenton, who acted Polly, becomes a universal favourite, nay, a
_furor_. Her pictures are engraved, her life written, and her sayings
and jests published, and in fine, the Italian Opera, which the piece was
intended to ridicule, is extinguished for a season. Notwithstanding this
unparalleled success of the "Beggars' Opera," Gay gained only L400 by
it, although by "Polly," the second part, (where Gay transports his
characters to the colonies,) which the Lord Chamberlain suppressed, on
account of its supposed immoral tendency, and which the author published
in self-defence, he cleared nearly L1200.

Altogether now worth above L3000, having been admitted by the Duke of
Queensberry into his house, who generously undertook the care alike of
the helpless being's purse and person, and still in the prime of life,
Gay might have looked forward, humanly speaking, to long years of
comfort, social happiness, and increased fame. _Dis aliter visum est_. He
had been delicate for some time, and on the 4th December 1732, at the age
of 44, and in the course of a three days' attack of inflammation of the
bowels, this irresolute but amiable and