o footlights in
those days. Favourite though Jack Hall was not a hand nor a voice was
raised to greet him. Jack Hall lost his nerve--which, however, as it
turned out was the most fortunate thing which could have happened--and
this is what he stammered out:

"Ladies and gentlemen, we--we--beg you'll not call for first and second
music because you all know there is never any music at all at an opera!"

A roar of laughter followed this unique apology accentuated by the
unconsciously comical twist of Hall's face with which the audience were
so familiar; good humour was restored, the dialogue was permitted to be
finished and the grumblers were further appeased by the playing of Dr.
Pepusch's overture.

More pitfalls had to be got over safely. Every eye was turned on Sir
Robert's heavy rubicund, impassive face when Peachum sang the verse:

"The priest calls the lawyer a cheat,
The lawyer be-knaves the divine,
And the statesman because he's so great,
Thinks his trade as honest as mine!"

The statesman in the box, whatever he might have felt, was far too
astute to show any sign of ill temper. His eternal smile was as smug as
ever and so also was it over the duet in the second act:

"When you censure the age
Be cautious and sage
Lest the courtiers offended should be;
If you mention vice or bribe,
'Tis so pat to all the tribe,
Each cries 'That was levelled at me.'"

The audience were somewhat timid in applauding this, though all felt how
apt it was, until they saw Walpole actually clapping his hands, and then
they followed suit right heartily.

Still success was not assured. True Polly captivated her hearers with
her sweet natural delivery of "Can love be controlled by advice?" and
afterwards with the tender pathos of "Oh ponder well," and there were
roars of laughter and half suppressed chuckles from the men and titters
from the women at the witty talk and the cynical hits at love and
matrimonial felicity, but it was not until Spiller led the rousing
choruses, "Fill every glass," and "Let us take the road," the latter
adapted to the march from Handel's opera of "Rinaldo," then all the
rage, that they were won over. The experienced Duke of Argyll cried out
aloud enough for Pope in the next box to hear him, "It'll do--it must
do--I see it in the eyes of 'em." And the duke was right.

When all was said and done pretty Polly Peachum was the pivot around
whic