n was Mr. Pope."
I am not aware of its alteration during the next forty years, but this was the state of the anecdote in 1853:
"Macklin was a tragedian, and the personal friend of Alexander Pope. He had a daughter, a beautiful and accomplished girl, who was likewise on the stage. On one occasion Macklin's daughter was about to take a benefit at Drury Lane Theatre, and on the morning of that evening, whilst the father and daughter were at breakfast, a young nobleman entered the apartment, and, with the most undisguised ruffianism, made overtures of a dishonourable character to Macklin for his daughter. The exasperated father, seizing a knife from the table, rushed at the fellow, who on the instant fled, on which Macklin pursued him along the street with the knife in his hand. The cause of the tragedian's wild appearance in the street soon got vent in the city. Evening came, and Old Drury seldom saw so crowded a house. The play was the Merchant of Venice, Macklin sustaining the part of Sh