'Twill best be if nigh six feet he prove high.
Then take of fine linen enough to wrap him in;
Right Mechlin must twist round his bosom and wrist,
Red heels to his shoes, gold clocks to his hose,
With calves quantum suff—for a muff;
In black velvet breeches let him put all his riches;
Then cover his waist with a suit that's well lac'd.
'Tis best if he wears not more than ten hairs,
To keep his brains cool on each side his scull.
Let a queue be prepar'd, twice as long as a yard,