And scanty cap, and his poor ears
With wooden earrings decorated,
And wearing round his ribs a newly-bought
Raw ox-hide, fitter for a case
For an old-fashion'd shield, this wretch
Artemon, who long has lived
With bakers' women, and the lowest of the low,
Now having found a new style of life,
Often thrusts his neck into the yoke,
Or beneath the spear doth crouch;