Fust. I think you have no reason to complain of my want of patience. Mr Sneerwell, be easy; 'tis but one short act before my tragedy begins; and that I hope will make you amends for what you are to undergo before it. Trapwit, I wish you would begin.
Trap. I wish so too. Come, prompter! are the members in their chairs?
Promp. Yes, sir.
Trap. Then carry them over the stage: but, hold, hold, hold! where is the woman to strew the flowers? [The members are carried over the stage.] Halloo, mob, halloo, halloo! Oons, Mr Prompter! you must get more mob to halloo, or these gentlemen will never be believed to have had the majority.
Promp. Sir, I can get no more mob; all the rest of the mob are gone to St James's-park to see the show.
Sneer. Pray, Mr Trapwit, who are these gentlemen in the chairs?
Trap. Ay, sir, this is your staying away so long; if you had been here the first four acts you would have known who they were.
Fust. Dear Sneerwell, ask him no more questions; if you enquire into every absurdity you see we shall have no tragedy to-day.
Trap. Come, Mr Mayor and Mrs Mayoress.
Enter Mayor and Mrs Mayoress.