"Mr. Clay, are you an archer?" asked Cynthia Courtown.

"No, fair Dian; but I can act Endymion."

"I don't know what you mean. Go away."

"Aubrey Vere, welcome to ----shire. Have you seen Prima Donna?"

"No; is he here? How did you like his last song in the Age?"

"His last song! Pooh! pooh! he only supplies the scandal."

"Groves," said Sir Hanway Etherington, "have you seen the newspaper this
morning? Baron Crupper has tried fifteen men for horse-stealing at York,
and acquitted every one."

"Well then, Sir Hanway, I think his Lordship's remarkable wrong; for
when a man gets a horse to suit him, if he loses it, 'tisn't so easy to
suit himself again. That's the ground I stand upon."

All this time the Marquess of Carabas had wanted Vivian Grey twenty
times, but that gentleman had not appeared. The important moment
arrived, and his Lordship offered his arm to Mrs. Million, who, as the
Gotha Almanack says, "takes precedence of all Archduchesses, Grand
Duchesses, Duchesses, Princesses, Landgravines, Margravines,
Palsgravines, &c. &c. &c."