The swollen throat among the mountains, and an ebon skin beneath the tropics,—
These shall all be reckoned beauty: and for weighty cause.
First, for the latter: Providence in mercy tempereth taste by circumstance,
So that Nature's must shall hit her creature's liking;
Second, for the middle: though the foolishness of vanity seek to mar proportion,
Still, defects in those we love shall soon be counted praise;
Third, for the first: a chief, and a princess, maimed or distorted from the cradle
Shall coax the flattery of slaves to imitate the great in their deformity:
Hence groweth habit: and habits make a taste,
And so shall servile zeal deface the types of beauty.