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Updated: May 24, 2025
By all that's good, I'm mad, stark raving mad, To have a Woman young, rich, beautiful, Just on the point of yielding to my Love, Snatcht from my Arms by such a Beast as this; An old ridiculous Buffoon, past Pleasure, Past Love, or any thing that tends that way; Ill-favour'd, ill-bred, and ill-qualify'd, With more Diseases than a Horse past Service; And only blest with Fortune and my Julia; For him, I say, this Miser, to obtain her, After my tedious nights and days of Love, My midnight Watchings, Quarrels, Wounds and Dangers; My Person not unhandsom too, By Heav'n, 'twas wondrous strange!
Thy Quality Sir Tim. Yes; I am a Gentleman, and a Knight. Nur. Yes, Sir, Knight of the ill-favour'd Countenance is it? Sir Tim. Nur. My Eye-sight is good enough to see thee in all thy Colours, thou Knight of the burning Pestle thou. Sir Tim. Agen, that was out of a Play Hark ye, Witch of Endor, hold your prating Tongue, or I shall most well-favour'dly cudgel ye. Nur.
And now when two years' time was fully past, And Joseph from confinement not releast, It came to pass that Pharaoh dream'd, and He seemed by a river-side to stand, Whence he seven fat well-favour'd kine beheld, Come up and grazed in the neighbouring field. And after them there came up seven more, Lean and ill-favour'd, and did soon devour The seven fat kine which came up just before.
Then Pharaoh said to Joseph, In my dream, As I stood by a river's side, there came Up from the river seven well-favour'd kine, And fed upon the banks, all fat and fine, And after them there came up seven more, Lean and ill-favour'd, and exceeding poor: Such as the land of Egypt never bred, And on the seven well-favour'd kine they fed, And eat them up, but 'twas not to be seen That they had eat them, they look'd still so thin.
"I will always take care of you," replied Alizon, stooping, and kissing her. "Do not promise more than you may be able to perform, Alizon," observed Mistress Nutter, coldly, and regarding the little girl with a look of disgust; "an ill-favour'd little creature, with the Demdike eyes."
I am gone; but hark, my Lord, If I should say your Face were wounded, The Ladies would fear you had lost your Beauty. Fal. O, never trouble your head for that, Aminta Is a Wit, and your Wits care not how ill-favour'd Their Men be, the more ugly the better. Lab. An't be so, you'll fit them to a hair. Fal.
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