George Farquhar
George Farquhar was born in Londonderry, the son of a clergyman, and educated at Trinity College, Dublin. On leaving Trinity, he tried his hand as an actor, but suffered from paralyzing stage fright. He made his way to London where his first play, Love and a Bottle, was staged in 1698, telling the story of ann Irishman newly arrived in the city who is a great success with the ladies. By all accounts, Farquhar was himself both handsome and charming, a wit and a troublemaker.

One night in a tavern, Farquhar heard a young woman named Anne Oldfield reading aloud behind the bar. He was so convinced by her talent that he introduced her to friends in the theatre, and she was taken on as an actress at Duruy Lane.

George and Anne’s liaison was not long lasting, and in 1703 George married a widow named Margaret Pemell. He had money trouble all his life, and health problems, but even when his difficulties were at their height he was still writing his dazzling and iconoclastic comedies, the best-known of which is probably The Recruiting Officer.

Anne Oldfield began a long-term relationship with an MP named Arthur Mainwaring at around the same time as George’s marriage. Her career went from strength to strength, and by the time she died in 1730 she was both rich and famous. She is buried on Westminster Abbey.

To Anne Oldfield, Sunday, after Sermon
I cam, I saw, and was conquered; never had man more to say, yet can I say nothing; where others go to save their souls, there have I lost mine; but I hope that Divinity which has the justest title to its service has received it; but I will endeavour to suspend these raptures for a moment, and talk calmly-

Nothing on earth, madam, can charm, beyond your wit but your beauty; after this not to love you would proclaim me a fool; and to say I did when I though otherwise would pronounce me a knave; If anybody called me either I should resent it; and if you but think me either I shall break my heart.

You have already, madam, seen enough of me to create a liking or an aversion; your sense is above your sex, then let your proceeding be so likewise, and tell me plainly what I have to hope for. Were I to consult my merits my humility would chide any shadow of hope; but after a sight of such a face whose whole composition is a smile of good nature, why should I be so unjust as to suspect you of cruelty. Let me either live in London and be happy or retire again to my desert to check my vanity that drew me thence; but let me beg you to receive my sentence from your own mouth, that I may hear you speak and see you look at the same time; then let me be unfortunate if I can.
If you are not the lady in mourning that sat upon my right hand at church, you may go to the devil, for I’m sure you’re a witch.