“In elder times an ancient custom was To swear, in weighty matters, by the mass; But when the mass went down, as old men note, They swore then by the cross of this same groat. And when the cross was likewise held in scorn, Then by their faith the common oath was sworn; Last, having sworn away all faith and troth, Only ‘G—d damn them’ is their common oath. Thus custom kept decorum by gradation, That losing mass, cross, faith, they find damnation.” Henry I. was surrounded by a crowd of friends, whose dresses were splendid and whose principles were detestable,—not to say “devilish.” These were the “Effeminati.” They were like the “mignons” of the French King Henri, and acquired their appellation from the fact of dressing nearly after the fashion of women. Their tunics were deep-sleeved, and their mantles long-trained. The peaks of their shoes were not only enormously long, but twisted so as to represent the horns of a ram or the coils of a serpent. Their peaks, introduced by Fulk, Earl of Anjou, to conceal his misshapen feet, were stuffed with tow; and certainly, were any earl or other gentleman now to enter a drawing-room thus remarkably shod, he would himself be taken in tow (if I may be so bold as to say so), and conveyed before a tribunal _de lunatico inquirendo_. The Effeminati, like the French “mignons,” wore their hair long, smooth, and parted in the middle; and they were not only unpleasantly unnatural to look at, but were horribly so in their deeds.