In the sight of an exceedingly "free" people, the guard was an insult, which the mob, and not the beaux, resented. It was a popular pastime to pelt them, till the terrors of the Prison-Gate House terminated the folly. The mob, indeed, loved a riot quite as dearly as the "quality," and were especially ungallant to the aspiring young ladies on the stage. West's tragedy of "Hecuba" entirely failed at Drury Lane, in 1726, through the Vandalism of the galleries, who, as capricious as my lords below, hissed the "young actresses" from beginning to end; and yet those "young actresses" were Mrs. Cibber, and other "darlings" of the town. Colley Cibber once pleaded the gracious presence of a prince in order to win propriety of conduct from an audience; at other times, the more gracious presence of a poet won respect. This was the case on that hot night in June 1730,[58] when "George Barnwell" was first played at Drury Lane. The audience had supplied themselves with the old ballad on the subject of that famous apprentice lad,--intending to make ludicrous contrast between the story there and that in the tragedy; but Pope was present, serious and attentive, and the rough critics, taking their cue from him, followed his example; at least, they threw away their ballads, took out their handkerchiefs, and wept over the fate of the wicked lad, so admirably played by that prince of scamps, Theophilus Cibber. Such a warning did he hold out to evildoers, that influential people of quality and reflecting city merchants used occasionally, for years, to "command" the playing of this tragedy, as wholesome instruction for apprentices in particular, and a wicked young public, generally.