These lines are from a play I'm writing now:
It's a Shakespearean homage, in verse.
Just fyi, I don't believe the lines
The man does speak, 'tis but in character.
If any thoughts you have, I'm glad to hear.
You women with your paints and powderpuff,
Who rouge your faces, dust a pretty bluff,
A snare to catch a carefree manly eye,
And tease him with a glimpse of creamy thigh:
How dreadful do your masques of beauty look,
What is a painted woman but a crook?
A thief of hearts, a grasping, cunning jade,
With passions never ripe, though still display’d!
Without your perfumed seeming, your façades,
What are you but a mockery of gods?
When men are noble, how you bring them down,
And turn a soldier, lover, to a clown!