_Penelope._ But alas, Madam, who patch'd you to Day? Let me see. It is the hardest thing in Dress. I may say without Vanity I know a little of it. That so low on the Cheeks pulps the Flesh too much. Hold still, my dear, I'll place it just by your Eye--(_Aside_) Now she downright squints. _Victoria._ There's nothing like a sincere Friend; for one is not a judge of one's self. I have a Patch box about me. Hold, my dear, that gives you a sedate Air, that large one near your Temples. _Penelope._ People, perhaps, don't mind these things: But if it be true, as the Poet finely sings, That all the Passions in the Features are, We may show, or hide 'em, as we know how to affix these pretty artificial Moles. _Victoria._ And so catch Lovers, and puzzle Physiognomy.[225] [Footnote 225: _The Lying Lover._] When not properly applied see the result. 'Han't I got too many Beauty Spots on, in my Mind now my Vace louks just like a Plumb Cake var all the World,'[226] whilst they possibly might call forth some uncomplimentary remarks, such as 'You pert Baggages, you think you are very handsome now, I warrant you. What a devil's this pound of hair upon your paltry frowses for? what a pox are those patches for? what, are your faces sore? I'd not kiss a Lady of this Age, by the Mass, I'd rather kiss my Horse.'[227] [Footnote 226: _The Platonick Lady._] [Footnote 227: _The Virtuoso._] Misson notes the difference between his countrywomen and ours. 'The Use of Patches is not unknown to the French Ladies; but she that wears them must be young and handsome. In England, young, old, handsome, ugly, all are _bepatch'd_ till they are Bed-rid. I have often counted fifteen Patches or more upon the swarthy wrinkled Phiz of an old Hag threescore and ten, and upwards. Thus the English Women refine upon our Fashions.'