1 _Voter_. Is not there a sort of employment, sir, called--beef-eating?--If your lordship please to make me a beef-eater--I would have a place fitted for my capacity. _Place_. Sir, I will be sure to remember you. 2 _Voter_. My lord, I should like a place at court too; I don't much care what it is, provided I wear fine cloaths, and have something to do in the kitchen or the cellar; I own I should like the cellar, for I am a devilish lover of sack. _Place_. Sack, say you? Odso, you shall be poet-laureat. 2 _Voter_. Poet! no, my lord, I am no poet, I can't make verses. _Place_. No matter for that--you'll be able to make odes. 2 _Voter_. Odes, my lord! what are those? _Place_. Faith, sir, I can't tell well what they are; but I know you may be qualified for the place without being a poet. _Trap_. Now, my lord, do you file off, and talk apart with your people; and let the colonel advance. _Fust_. Ay, faith, I think it is high time for the colonel to be heard. _Col_. Depend upon it, sir; I'll serve you. _Fust_. Upon my word the colonel begins very well; but has not that been said already? _Trap_. Ay, and if I was to bring a hundred courtiers into my play, they should all say it--none of them do it. 3 _Voter_. An't please your honour, I have read in a book called Fog's Journal that your honour's men are to be made of wax; now, sir, I have served my time to a wax-work maker, and desire to make your honour's regiment. _CoL_ Sir, you may depend on me. 3 _Voter_. Are your officers to be made of wax too, sir? because I would prepare a finer sort for them. _CoL_ No, none but the chaplain. 3 _Voter_. O! I have a most delicate piece of black wax for him. _Trap_. You see, sir, the colonel can speak when military affairs are on the carpet. Hitherto, Mr Fustian, the play has gone on in great tranquillity; now you shall see a scene of a more turbulent nature. Come, enter the mob of both sides, and cudgel one another off the stage. Colonel, as your business is not to fight at present, I beg you would go off before the battle comes on; you and your brother candidate come into the middle of the stage; you voters range yourselves under your several leaders. [_The mob attempt to break in_.] Pray, gentlemen, keep back; mind, the colonel's going off is the cue for the battle to enter. Now, my lord, and the colonel, you are at the head of your parties--but hold, hold, hold! you beef-eater, go you behind my lord, if you please; and you soldier-maker, come you behind the colonel: now, gentlemen, speak. _Place_ and _Col_ Gentlemen, we'll serve you. [_My lord and the colonel flle off at different doors, the parties following_. _Enter mob on each side of the stage, crying out promiscuously_. Down with the Rump! No courtiers! No Jacobites! Down with the pope! No excise! A Place and a Promise! A Fox-chace and a Tankard! _At last they fall together by the ears, and cudgel one another off the stage_.