“So while I fondly imagined we were deceiving my relations, and flattered myself that I should outwit and incense them all; behold, my hopes are to be crushed at once, by my aunt’s consent and approbation, and I am myself the only dupe. But here, Sir,—here is the picture!”—LYDIA LANGUISH.
O DAYS of old, O days of Knights,
Of tourneys and of tilts,
When love was balk’d and valour stalk’d
On high heroic stilts—
Where are ye gone?—adventures cease,
The world gets tame and flat,—
We’ve nothing now but New Police—