Vertigo understands the dignity of his profession; indeed, he wears a double dignity, for he is a “woman’s tailor,” as well as “man’s;” and when he is about to measure Florimel, how bravely does he bid the lords “stand out o’ th’ light!” How gallantly does he promise the lady when he swears—or asserts rather (for the tailors of the poets never swear,—that is, never swear profanely; they are like the nun in Chaucer, whose prettiest oath was but “by St. Eloy!”)—when he asserts then that she has “the neatest body in Spain this day;” and further, when Otrante, the Spanish Count, in love with Florimel, remarks that happily his wardrobe, with the tailor’s help, may fit her instantly, what self-dignity in the first line of the reply, and what philosophy in the second!—
“If I fit her not, your wardrobe cannot;
And if the fashion be not there, you mar her.”
Ben Jonson does the trade full justice with regard to their possession of generosity; thus, in ‘Every Man Out of his Humour,’ Fungoso not only flatters the tailor who constructed his garment out of the money due for its fashioning, but he borrows some ready cash of him besides. Upon this hint did Sheridan often act; and thus posterity suffers through the vices as through the weaknesses of our ancestors. But the philosophical spirit of the true artistic tailor has been as little neglected by rare Ben, “the Canary-bird,” as the same artist’s generosity. The true philosophy of dress is to be found in a speech of Fashioner’s, in the ‘Staple of News,’ and which speech is in reply to the remark of young Pennyboy, that the new clothes he has on make him feel wittier than usual: “Believe it, Sir,” says Fashioner,
“That clothes do much upon the wit, as weather
Does on the brain; and thence, Sir, comes your proverb,
The tailor makes the man. I speak by experience
Of my own customers. I have had gallants,
Both court and country would have fool’d you up,
In a new suit, with the best wits in being,