King, the innkeeper, being convinced of her rank and fortune, John Carleton, his brother-in-law, no doubt receiving proper information from King, became enamored of the Princess, and presumed to pay his addresses to her. She was highly displeased at first, but, from his importunity, was at last prevailed upon to descend from her station, and receive the hand of a common man. Poor Carleton thought himself the happiest of mortals, in being thus so highly honored by a union with such an accomplished and amiable princess, possessed of an ample fortune, though far inferior to what she had a right to expect from her noble birth. But, during this dream of pleasure, Mr. King received a letter, informing him, that the woman who resided at his house, and was married to his brother-in-law, was an impostor, that she had already been married to two husbands, and had eloped with all the money she could lay her hands on: and that the writer said nothing but what could be proved by the most unquestionable evidence in a court of justice. The consequence was, that a prosecution was instituted against her for polygamy; but from insufficient evidence she was acquitted. She was then introduced as an actress among the players, and by them supported for some time. Upon the strength of her popularity the house was often crowded, and the public curiosity was excited by a woman who had made such a figure in the world, and was receiving great applause in her dramatic capacity. She generally appeared in characters suited to her habits of life, and those scenes which had been rendered familiar to her by former deception and intrigues. But what tended chiefly to promote her fame, was a play called the “German Princess,” written principally upon her account, in which she spoke the following prologue in such a manner as gained universal applause. I’ve passed one trial, but it is my fear I shall receive a rigid sentence here: You think me a bold cheat, but case ’twere so, Which of you are not? Now you’d swear, I know; But do not, lest that you deserve to be Censured worse than you can censure me; The world’s a cheat, and we that move in it In our degrees do exercise our wit; And better ’tis to get a glorious name, However got, than live by common fame. The Princess had too much mercury in her constitution to remain long within the bounds of a theatre, when London itself was too limited for her volatile disposition. She did not, however, leave the theatre until she had procured many admirers. Her history was well known, as well as her accomplishments and her gallantry, and introduced her into company. She was easy of access, but in society carried herself with an affected air of indifference.