I suppose,
would have desired these things on her expulsion from Paradise, and
when spiritually dead.'
One sees by the tortured and twisted German fashion that the hair was
plaited, and so, in curves and twists, dropped into coarse gold-web
nets, thrust into web nets with velvet pouches to them, so that the
hair stuck out behind in a great knob, or at the side in two
protuberances; over all a cap like to the man's, but that it was
infinitely more feathered and jewelled. Then, again, they wore those
hideous barbes or beard-like linen cloths, over the chin, and an
infinite variety of caps of linen upon their heads--caps which showed
always the form of the head beneath.
[Illustration: {A woman of the time of Henry VIII.; three types of
hat for women}]
In common with the men, their overcoats and cloaks were voluminous,
and needed to be so if those great sleeves had to be stuffed into
them; fur collars or silk collars, with facings to match, were rolled
over to show little or great expanses of these materials.
Here, to show what dainty creatures were our lady ancestors, to show
from what beef and blood and bone we come, I give you (keep your eye
meanwhile upon the wonderful dresses) the daily allowance of a Maid of
Honour.
Every morning at breakfast one chyne of beef from the
kitchen, one chete loaf and one maunchet at the pantry
bar, and one gallon of ale at the buttery bar.
For dinner a piece of beef, a stroke of roast and a
reward from the kitchen. A caste of chete bread from the
pantry bar, and a gallon of ale at the buttery bar.
Afternoon--should they suffer the pangs of hunger--a
maunchet of bread from the pantry bar, and a gallon of
ale at the buttery bar.
Supper, a messe of pottage, a piece of mutton and a
reward from the kitchen. A caste of chete bread from the
pantry bar, and a gallon of ale at the buttery bar.
After supper--to insure a good night's rest--a chete
loaf and a maunchet from the pantry bar, and half a
gallon of ale from the seller bar.
Four and a half gallons of ale! I wonder did they drink it all
themselves? All this, and down in the mornings in velvets and silks,
with faces as fresh as primroses.
It is the fate of all articles of clothing or adornment, naturally
tied or twisted, or folded and pinned by the devotees of fashion, to
become, after some little time, made up, ready made, into the shapes
which ha
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