A Rap at the Door, when forth from the Chair,  

Flounces Madam adorn’d, with much Cost & Care: 

John, is not that Coach that stands at the Door,  

The Duchess of Bastoes, it is I am sure,  

Then step to her House it is scarcely a mile, 

To know if her Grace is at home or alone 

And if my D. Whisel to Flanders is gone.  

And don’t you forget to ask after Tennet  

The fav’rite Dog; & be back in a minute. 

Then up stairs she stomps & cries out aloud, 

I hope Sr. your Lady has not got a Crowd, 

For if she has, O, my Dear, quite alone 

Sure every mortal is gone out of town  

I thought I should never have seen you again, 

Have you heard of the news that’s just’s come from Spain. 

They say the Queen’s dead, & that further Ye King 

Will back to the Convent & that’ till the spring, 

The Camp will not form… I feel very odd, 

Do you know for a truth that our King goes Abroad, 

And that Mrs. Cibber’s return’d on the Stage, 

I wish the Directors would Handel engage,  

I am quite transported with sweet Montichelli,  

I wonder what’s come of poor Farinelli: 

He ne’er will return, I very much fear: 

O! pray have you ever seen Garrick play Lear. 

Pray give me Permission to mend up your fire  

Lord how I look – Have you heard from the Squire. 

Since he went away ah poor Lady Betty 

I think green & Gold, in Slippers look pretty; 

Damask or velvet which best do you like,  

Oh my Nephew at last is to carry a Pike, 

I thought last night’s Party would never have ended, 

From such stupid mortal may I be ever defended.  

Did you mind how she look’d when I said she renounc’d 

And how when the Rubbers where ended she flounced,  

I thought my good Lady as it was so late,  

Might have had the good manner to ask us to eat. 

And her Sister for breeding so vastly admired,  

But where little is given there’s little required, 

I’m sure those that mind them have little to do. 

By the way – how’s affairs between Bellmour & you. 

I thought long e’er now to have given you Joy, 

Now really my Dear, I think you too Coy.  

I’m sure he’s the handsomest man in the world, 

Lord child your Hair is most frightfully curld 

But here comes some People – my Dearest Adieu,  

I hope I shall see you when you’ve nought else to do.