The same little feminine vanities existed then as now. We had a glance at the cosmetics and scents, so will only just give one more illustration which supplies some then missing scents. 'I have choice good Gloves, Amber, Orangery, Gensa, Romane, Frangipand, Nerol, Tuberose, Jessimine and Marshal. All manner of Tires for the Head, Locks, Frowzes and so forth;'[223] so that they were not altogether independent of the barber's art as regards false hair.
COIFFURE.
There stands the Toilette, Nursery of Charms,
Compleatly furnish'd with bright Beauty's Arms;
The Patch, the Powder Box, Pulville, Perfumes,
Pins, Paint, a flatt'ring Glass, and Black lead Combs.
........
So Love with fatal Airs the Nymph supplies
Her Dress disposes, and directs her Eyes.
The Bosom now its naked Beauty Shows,
Th' experienced Eye resistless Glances throws;
Now vary'd Patches wander o'er the Face,
And Strike each Gazer with a borrow'd Grace;
The fickle Head dress sinks and now aspires,
And rear's it's tow'ry Front on rising Wires:
The Curling Hair in tortured Ringlets flows,
Or round the Face in labour'd Order grows.[224]
The mode of coiffure was far less pretentious than in succeeding reigns. When a cap or commode was worn, the hair, except in front, was almost entirely concealed. When worn without a cap, as in the house—especially for dress occasions—it was rolled, as in the accompanying illustration, in a style both elegant and informal.
PATCHING.
That curious practice of patching the face was in force, but was used in greater moderation than either in the reign of Charles I., when suns, moons, stars, and even coaches and four were cut out of sticking plaister, and stuck on the face, and even the mercers patched, to show the effect to their customers—or in the Georgian era, when the face was covered with a sooty eruption. The effect on a pretty face, as shown in the accompanying illustration, is far from unpleasant. But it was an art, and required judgment.
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.