Periwig

O, it offends me to the soul to hear a robustious periwig-pated fellow tear a passion to tatters, to very rags, to split the ears of the groundling […]

Methinks she makes almost as fair a sign / As some old gentlewoman in a periwig.

[T]he sun Grown stale, is to so low a value run, That his dishevel'd beams and scattered fires Serve but for ladies' periwigs and tyres In lovers' sonnets […]

The floods in icie fetters bound. Crusted earth. Every honey-headed twig Wears his snowie Periwig, And every bough his snowy beard.

From her own Head, Megwra takes A Perriwig of twisted Snakes; Which in the nicest Fashion curl'd, Like Toupets of this upper World […]

[O]ur impetuous youth hearing himself reviled with the appellation of scoundrel, pulled off his antagonist's periwig, and flung it in his face.

Discord periwigg'd with snakes