shall serve the Queen.--Has a Tradesman a Fop Prentice, that airs out his
Horses, and heats his Wife, or an old Puritan a graceless Son, that runs
to the Play-House instead of the Meeting, they are threathen'd with the
Queen's Service; so that Her Majesty's good Subjects, drink her Health,
wish success to her Arms, and send her all the Scoundrels i'the Nation.

Sir _Har_. Fellows that han't sense to value a Civil Employment are
necessary to front an Army, whose thick Sculls may repulse the first Fury
of the Enemy's Cannon Bullets.

_Shr_. I hope, then, the _English_ are so wise to let the _Dutch_ march
foremost.--But why, Sir, shou'd you Gentlemen ingross all the Pleasures
o'Life, and not allow us poor Dogs to imitate you in our own Sphere;--You
wear lac'd Coats; We lac'd Liv'ries;--You play at Picquet; We at
All-Fours;--You get drunk with Burgundy; We with Geneva;--You pinck Holes
with your Swords; We crack Sculls with our Sticks;--You are Gentlemen; We
are hang'd.

Sir _Har_. A fine Relation; but, methinks, the latter Part of it might
deter you from such Courses.

_Shr_. I'm a Predestinarian, Sir; which is an Argument of a great Soul,
and will no more baulk a drunken Frolick, than I would a pretty Lady that
takes a Fancy to me.

Sir _Har_. No more of your Impertinence; attend, I hear Company (Shrimp
_goes to the Door_) Brigadier _Blenheim_ return'd from the Army!

_Enter_ Collonel, _and_ Knapsack.

Sir _Har_. My noblest, dearest Collonel, let me imbrace you as a
_Britain_, and as a Friend. _Ajax_ ne'er boasted _English_ Valour;
_Ulysses_ ne'er such Conduct; nor _Alexander_ such Successes. The Queen
rejoices; the Parliament vote you Thanks; and ev'ry honest Loyal Heart
bounds at our General's Name.

_Col_. Ay, Sir _Harry_, to be thus receiv'd, rewards the Soldier's Toils;
and, faith, we have maul'd the fancy _French-men,_ near Twenty Thousand we
left fast asleep, taught the remaining few a new Minuet-step, and sent 'em
home to sing _Te Deum_.

_Knap_. Ay, Sir, and if they are not satisfied, next Campaign the
_English_ shall stand still, and laugh at their Endeavours; the _Dutch_
Snigger-snee 'em; the _Scotch_ Cook them; and the wild _Irish_ eat 'em.

_Col_. Oh! The glorious Din of War; the Energy of a good Cause, and the
Emulation of a brave Confederacy.--To sound the Charge; Make a vigorous
Attack, the Enemy gives ground,--To pour on fresh Vollies of a sure
Destruction, and return deafn'd with shouts