When they fought out the rubbers Wednesday last.
To see such a contest the house was so full,
There hardly was room left to thrust in your scull.
With a prelude of cudgels we first were saluted,
And two or three shoulders most handsomely fluted;
Till, wearied at last with inferior disasters,
All the company cry'd, "Come, the Masters, the Masters."
Whereupon the bold Sutton first mounted the stage,
Made his honours as usual, and yearn'd to engage;
Then Figg with a visage so fierce and sedate