The Scarlet Pimpernel

Treadle: That, Sir Percy, is the last word in cuffs.
Percy Blakeney: Oh, gad, I should hope so. For there should never be another like it.

Percy Blakeney: They seek him here, they seek him there, / Those Frenchies seek him everywhere. / Is he in heaven? Or is he in hell? / That damned elusive Pimpernel.

Percy Blakeney: Open up your sleeves, man. Let your ruffles take the air. Let them flow. Let them ripple.

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