An old English-gentleman pester'd by servants wanting places / Js. Gillray invt & fecit.

Print shows George III on a low rectangular platform approached from all sides by applicants for office. He is in back view, but turns his head in profile to the left, to inspect a group through his spy-glass, saying: Well Gentlemen,--I have taken a peep at you all: but I am afraid that you won't do--for some of you are too Heavy & Broad-Bottom'd for Service; & the rest seem to have no Bottom at all.--So Gentlemen, I think I shall he content with my Old Servants. In the front row, Grenville, holding a gold-laced coachman's hat and whip, says: Does your Honor want a steady Broad-Bottom'd Coachman to drive you. His nephew Temple is next him, then Buckingham who says: We'll do any Thing; his son (Temple) adds and in any Way! Close behind is Sidmouth, holding out a bottle of cathartic and saying: Pray your Honor remember Doctor Slop! your Old Apothecary, who Physick'd the French! Next him stands Whitbread, dressed as a porter. He supports against his knees a huge rectangular pile of Motions to be brought in the House of Commons. He says: If his Honor wants an Honest Porter, I'm his Man! Behind him, Lord Henry Petty with a fiddle asks: Does his Honor want a Fidler to play a Jig. Behind Petty and Whitbread are two men dressed as chairmen with straps across the shoulder: one is Grattan; the other (?) Ponsonby, asks: Does his Honor want a pair of Irish Chairmen to carry his Honor clean through the Mud? Behind them is a group of three: Cobbett, holding up a sheaf of Cobbett Political Register, says: Does his Honor want a Patriotic Reformer? Burdett asks: Does his Honor want a Partner in Business!--ask him Townsend. Townsend, the Bow Street officer, holding up his constable's staff, saying: Out with you & be damn'd. Horne Tooke says: I'm not Bill Soanes. Moira, in regimentals, stands between Erskine and Windham. He says: I wish that his Honor would but give a Nod this way! Erskine says: Ego, I have now had my Hat in my hand for this Fortnight in hopes of an opportunity to make a Bow! Windham: His Honor dont take any notice of the Civil Speeches, I lately made. The King's own servants stand facing him on the platform. A greyhound with the head of Grey fawns on Portland. The latter says: Ha! Ha! Ho!--throw you a Bone!--for what!--a Bone to a poor silly-Grey-hound that can only yelp, & neither Bite nor drive the French Wolf from the Door. Behind stands Perceval putting up a hand to ward off Tierney who bows humbly, saying, Pray Mr Chanceller P. do speak a Word in our Favor to his Honor. Perceval answers: --a Word in your Favor Mr T.--I fear that I shall not find a Word of that kind in all England. Sheridan looks up to three Ministers, Castlereagh, Canning, and Liverpool, seated in a small gallery. He addresses Canning: Pray Mr Secretary C. has his Honor any wish for our Services? He seems to speak also for the Duke of Norfolk. Canning answers: Not the least wish I believe! The Duke of Bedford, as a yokel in a smock, holding a pitchfork, bows low, saying, I can look after your Honor's Estates in Ireland--or take care of your Farms at Windsor. Behind him is Lord St. Vincent in naval uniform; in his pocket is a Scheme for Crimping . . . Behind him is the Duke of Norfolk and Lord Spencer, dressed as a watchman with a sleeve-badge: an Old State Watchman.