While curled up with Richard Burtonís The Arabian Nights last night, I came across the best physical description of a character Iíve ever seen. Read it and puke:
Now it fortuned that the princesses were behind a curtain, looking on; and when they heard this, the youngest considered her husband to be, and behold, he was an old man, an hundred years of age, with hair frosted, forehead drooping, eye-brows mangy, ears slitten, beard and mustachios stained and dyed; eyes red and goggle; cheeks bleached and hollow; flabby nose like a brinjall or eggplant; face like a cobblerís apron, teeth overlapping and lips like a camelís kidneys, loose and pendulous; in brief a terror, a horror, a monster, for he was of the folk of his time the unsightliest; sundry of his grinders had been knocked out and his eyeteeth were like the tusks of the Jinni who frighteneth poultry in henhouses.
The bride to be, on the other hand:
Now the girl was the fairest and most graceful of her time, more elegant than the gazelle however tender, than the gentlest zephyr blander and brighter than the moon at her full; for amorous fray right suitable; confounding in graceful sway the waving bough and outdoing in swimming gait the pacing roe.