Came there a certain lord, neat, and trimly dress’d,
Fresh as a bridegroom; and his chin new-reap’d,
Show’d like a stubble-land at harvest-home:
He was perfumed like a milliner,
And ’twixt his finger and his thumb he held
A pouncet-box, which ever and anon
He gave his nose and took ’t away again.

William Shakespeare

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