"By dress we're won; gold, gems, and rich brocades Make up the pageant that your heart invades; In all that glittering figure which you see, The far least part of her own self is she; In vain for her you love amidst such cost You search, the mistress in such dress is lost."
Место: Chapter XII. Apology For Raimond Sebond. · ¶2808 Лицензия: Public domain · Источник Текст приведён как в издании, без правок.