Some Betty, guiltless of a nation’s folly!
Th’ applause of wondering boxes to attract,
Their face engraved in public shops to boast,
T’ ensure a full box-book whene’er they act,
And read their history in the Morning Post,
Their lot forbade: nor circumscrib’d alone,
Their growing talents, but their faults unseen
T’ omit the author’s jest, insert their own
Or woo the boxes while they slight the scene.
By mummery the writer’s text to hide,