I tell you, shee's the onely fashion-monger,
For your complexion, poudring of your haire,
Shadowes, rebatoes, wires, tyres, and such trickes,
That Cambray or, I thinke, the Court affords.140
She shall attend you, sister, and with these
Womanly practises emply your spirit;
This other suites you not, nor fits the fashion.
Though shee be deare, lay't on, spare for no cost;
Ladies in these have all their bounties lost.[145]
Ren. Madame, you see, his spirit will not checke