Esther, XXXIX

" We shall be friends. How friends ? You must know me first.
What? Like the Pont Neuf? Should you wish it ? Well,
None ever yet repented it who durst.
Oh I you shall know me as I dare not tell.
You said I was not pretty. 'Tis the paint
That ruins the complexion and the hours
Spent at the footlights. These would rob a saint,
Much more a sinner, of her natural powers.
Voilà la casse du metier / Then, this scar,
Some praise it as a beauty. They are fools.
At best it but an honour is of war,
And beauty is not measured by foot-rules.
So you forgive it me, what need we care ?
Fair faces are but signs of things more fair."