“How can that woman have the impudence to go about in that bribe?"-,, Madam,” said Lady Mary, “how would you have people know where wine is to be sold, unless there is a sign hung out!” Sir R. told me, that in the enthusiasm of her vanity, Lady Sundon had proposed to him to unite with her, and govern the kingdom together:  he bowed, begged her patronage, but said he thought nobody fit to govern the kingdom, but the King and Queen.-Another day.

Friday morning.  I was forced to leave off last night, as I found it would be impossible to send away this letter finished in any time.  It will be enormously long, but I have prepared you for it.  When I consider the beginning of my letter, it looks as if I were entirely of your opinion about the agreeableness of them.  I believe you will never commend them again, when you see how they increase upon your hands.  I have seen letters of two or three sheets, written from merchants at Bengal and Canton to their wives:  but then they contain the history of a twelvemonth:  I grow voluminous from week to week.  I can plead in excuse nothing but the true reason; you desired it; and I remember how I used to wish for such letters, when I was in Italy.  My Lady Pomfret carries this humanity still farther, and because people were civil to her in Italy, she makes it a rule to visit all strangers in general.  She has been to visit a Spanish Count (407) and his wife, though she cannot open her lips in their language.  They fled from Spain, he and his brother having offended the Queen, (408) by their attachments to the Prince of Asturias; his brother ventured back to bring off this woman, who was engaged to him.  Lord Harrington (409) has procured them a pension of six hundred a-year.  They live chiefly with Lord Carteret and his daughter,(410) who speak Spanish.  But to proceed from where I left off last night, like the Princess Dinarzade in the Arabian Nights, for you will want to know what happened one day.  Sir Robert was at dinner with Lady Sundon, who hated the Bishop of London, as much as she loved the Church.  “Well,” said she to Sir R., “how does your pope do!"-"Madam,” replied he, “he is my pope, and shall be my Pope; every body has some pope or other; don’t you know that you are one!  They call you Pope Joan.”  She flew into a passion, and desired he would not fix any names on her; that they were not so easily got rid of.

We had a little ball the other night at Mrs. Boothby’s, and by dancing, did not perceive an earthquake, which frightened all the undancing part of the town.

We had a civility from his Royal Highness,(411) who sent for Monticelli the night he was engaged here, but, on hearing it, said he would send for him some other night.  If I did not live so near St. James’s, I would find out some politics in this-should not one?

Sir William Stanhope (412) has had a hint from the same Highness, that his company is not quite agreeable:  whenever he met any body at Carlton House whom he did not know, he said, “Your humble servant, Mr. or Mrs. Hamilton.”