oyal.

~174~~

See S-b-y's peeress, whom each fool
Of fashion meets in Sunday school,{24}
To chat in learned lore;
Where rhyming peers, and letter'd beaus,
Blue stocking belles to love dispose,
And wit is deem'd a bore.
With brave Sir Ronald, toe to toe,
See Mrs. M-h-l A-g-lo,{25}
Superb equestriana.
Next--that voluptuous little dame,{26}
Who sets the dandy world in flame,
The female Giovanni.
Erin's sprightly beauteous belle,
Gay Lady G-t-m, and her swell
The Yorkshire Whiskerandoes.{27}

24 The dulness of the marchioness's Sunday evening conver-
saziones have obtained them the fashionable appellation of
the Sunday-school. Lord Byron thought it highly dangerous
for any wit to accept a second invitation, lest he should be
inoculated with ennui.

23 Mrs. M- A-g-e, a very amiable and accomplished woman,
sister to Sir H-y V-ne T-p-t. She is considered the best
female equestrian in the ride.

26 A consideration for the delicacy of our fair readers
will not allow us to enter upon the numerous amours of this
favourite of Apollo and the Muses, and not less celebrated
intriguant. She may, however, have ample justice entailed
upon her under another head. Latterly, since the police have
been so active in suppressing the gaming houses, a small
party have met with security and profit for a little chicken
hazard in Curzon-street, at which Mr. C-t has occasionally
acted as croupier and banker. Elliston used to say, when
informed of the sudden indisposition or absence of a certain
little actress and singer-"Ay, I understand; she has a more
profitable engagement than mine this evening." The amorous
trio, Cl-g-t, Charles H-r-s, and the exquisite Master G-e,
may not have cause to complain of neglect. The first of
these gentlemen has lately, we understand, been very
successful at play; we trust experience will teach him
prudence.

27 His lordship commands the York hussars, in defence of
whose whiskers he sometime since made a Quixotic attack upon
a public writer. As he is full six feet high, and we are not
quite five, prudence bids us place our finger on our lip.

~175~~

Pale Lambton, he who loves and hates