"La beauté du visage est un frêle ornement, Une fleur passagère, un éclat d'un moment."--_Molière._ [232:B] "But admitting your body's finer, all that beauty is but skin-deep."--"The Female Rebellion," 1682. "All the beauty of the world, 'tis but skin-deep, a sunne-blast defaceth it."--"Orthodoxe Paradoxes," 1650. [233:A] "Daughter, in this I can thinke none other But that it is true thys prouerbe old, Hastye loue is soone hot and soone cold." --"Play of Wyt and Science," c. 1540. [233:B] "Whosoever lives unmarried lives without joy, without comfort, without blessing. Love your wife like yourself, honour her more than yourself. It is woman alone through whom God's blessings are vouchsafed to a house. She teaches the children, speeds the husband, and welcomes him when he returns, keeps the house godly and pure, and God's blessings rest upon these things."--_Talmud._ [234:A] "You see marriage is destinie, made in heaven, though consummated on earth."--LELY, _Mother Bombie_, 1594. Shakespeare, too, in the "Merchant of Venice," declares that "hanging and wiving go by destiny." In "The Cheats," written by Wilson in 1662, Scruple remarks, "Good sir, marriages are made in heaven." Many similar passages to these might be cited. [235:A] "He is a fool who thinks by force or skill To turn the current of a woman's will." TUKE, _Adventures of Five Hours_, 1673. [236:A] The following, from Wycombe Church, is an agreeable variation: "Here lies one, whose rest Gives me a restless life, Because I've lost a good And virtuous wife." In Milton Abbot Church we find a memorial to one Bartholomew Doidge and Joan, his wife. The wife was buried on the 1st of February 1681, and the husband on the 12th, and the inscription goes on to say: "She first deceased: he a little tried To live without her, liked it not, and died." [237:A] "By thys tale ye may se that the olde prouerbe ys trew that yt is as gret pyte to se a woman wepe as a gose to go barefoote."--"Mery Tayls," c. 1525. Puttenham, in "The Arte of English Poesie," 1589, gives a rather different rendering, a satire on feminine gush and misplaced sympathy, "By the common prouerbe a woman will weepe for pitie to see a gosling goe barefoote." [239:A] "The shuddering tenant of the frigid zone, Boldly proclaims the happiest spot his own, Extols the treasures of his stormy seas, And his long night of revelry and ease. The naked savage, panting at the line, Boasts of his golden sands, and palmy wine, Basks in the glare, or stems the tepid wave, And thanks his gods for all the good they gave. Nor less the patriot's boast, where'er he roam, His first, best country, ever is at home." --GOLDSMITH, _The Traveller._