“Beware of being the inventress Of new attire, for many a sinner Might make thee her exemplar. If thou would please God and the world, Wear the dress that denotes simplicity In honesty.” [14] A cord twisted so as to form a figure of ∞ was called a _lac d’amour_, or love-knot.—_Translator’s note._ [15] “Heavens! how satisfied she was With her good looks that day! With all her dainty graces! Look you, she had a bodice Of the finest sky-blue, laced With a lace of yellow, made for her. And then she had sleeves of green Of rich stuff, and a gown Both wide and open. ... Black hosen, little slippers, White linen, a looped girdle, And a fair kerchief on her head-dress.” [16] “For one coat that the wife of a bourgeois wears The great lady puts on three, one over the other; And letting them all be seen equally, She makes herself known for more than a bourgeoise.” [17] “There was a time, before these customs, When women were wise.” [18] “The ‘vertugal’ we will have, Spite of them and their false envy; And the busk at the breast we will wear; Is it not a pretty usage?” [19] “The large vertugadin is common to all Frenchwomen; The bourgeoises wear it freely now, Just the same as the great ladies, if it be not That the bourgeoise is content with a smaller one; For the great ladies are not satisfied With a vertugadin less than five yards wide.” [20] “Netted hair and hawk-bright eye.” [21] “Men and women out of pride Starch their long ruffs until they find no equal; But in hell the devil will blow (the bellows), And the fire will be lighted to burn souls.” [22] “Velvet, grown too common in France, Resumes, beneath your sway, its former honour; So that your remonstrance Has made us see the difference Between the servant and his lord, And the coxcomb, silk-bedecked, Who equalled your princes, And rich in cloth of silk went glittering On his way, showing off the bravery of his attire. I have more indulgence for our fair women Who, in dresses far too precious, Usurp the rank of the nobles. But now, the long-despised wool Resumes its former station.” [23] “That little popinjay, Curled, ruffed, and milk-skinned, Whose shining face Puts even his mirror to shame, And his delicate skin Outdoes the tints of a picture; That coxcomb whose mode of speech Is mincing, soft, and lisping, And whose foot when he walks Would not crack an eggshell, Took a fancy, the other day, To marry Marie. She was dressed almost as gaily As her gallant. And when they came to church, The priest, looking at them, Asked, jestingly: ‘Which of you two is the husband?’” [24]