The Dressing of the Hair, Moustachios and Beard (5)

Painted and patched face - Queen Elizabeth reign
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The absurd fashion of painting and patching the face, much ridiculed by the satirists, began in the reign of Elizabeth.
"Whers the Devill?
He's got a boxe of women's paint
Where pride is, thers the Divell too."
Quips upon Questions, 1600
"This is an Embleame for those painted faces,
Where devine beautie rests her for awhile,
Filling their browes with stormes and great disgraces,
That on the pained soule yeelds not a smile,
But puts true love into perpetuall exile;
Hard-hearted Soule, such fortune light on thee
That thou maist be transform'd as well as he."
CHESTER'S Love's Martyr, 1601
By the reign of James I. this ridiculous fashion had become common. All sorts of curious devices were made use of: spots, stars, crescents, and in one woodcut a coach and coachman with two horses and postilions appear upon the lady's forehead. The fashion continued for a long period; in fact, during the greater part of the Georgian era, when it had degenerated into mere spots or small patches. At the close of the eighteenth century it had entirely d isappeared.
"Wherfor, faire doughtres, takithe ensaumple, and holde it in your herte that ye put no thinge to poppe, painte, and fayre youre visages, the which is made after Goddes ymage, otherwise thanne your Creatoure and nature hath ordeined; and that ye plucke no browes, nother temples, nor forhed; and also that ye wasshe not the here of youre hede in none other thing but in lye and water" ("Advice of the Knight of La Tour Landry to his iij doughtres ").
I have a Wife, the more's my care,
who like a gaudy peacock goes,
In top-knots, patches, powder'd hair, besides she is
the worst of shrows ;
This fills my heart with grief and care to think I
must this burden bear.
It is her forecast to contrive to rise about the hour
of Noon,
And if she's trimm'd and rigg'd by five, why this
I count is very soon;
Then goes she to a ball or play, to pass the
pleasant night away.
And when she home returns again, conducted by
a bully spark,
If that I in the least complain, she does my words
and actions mark,
And does likewise my gullet tear, then roars like
thunder in the air.
I never had a groat with her, most solemnly I here
Yet she's as proud as Lucifer, and cannot study
what to wear:
In sumptuous robes she still appears, while I am
forc'd to hide my ears.
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