To answer is no easy task:
For she has really two ages.
Stiff in brocade, and pinch’d in stays,
Her patches, paint and jewels on;
All day let envy view her face,
And Phillis is but twenty-one.
Paint, patches, jewels laid aside,
At night astronomers agree,
The evening has the day belied;
And Phillis is some forty-three.