In work against each other, thou and I, 450
Mowing in spring-time, when the days are long,
I with my well-bent sickle in my hand,
Thou arm'd with one as keen, for trial sake
Of our ability to toil unfed
Till night, grass still sufficing for the proof.— 455
Or if, again, it were our task to drive
Yoked oxen of the noblest breed, sleek-hair'd,
Big-limb'd, both batten'd to the full with grass,
Their age and aptitude for work the same
Not soon to be fatigued, and were the field 460
In size four acres, with a glebe through which
The share might smoothly slide, then should'st thou see
How strait my furrow should be cut and true.—
Or should Saturnian Jove this day excite
Here, battle, or elsewhere, and were I arm'd 465
With two bright spears and with a shield, and bore
A brazen casque well-fitted to my brows,
Me, then, thou should'st perceive mingling in fight
Amid the foremost Chiefs, nor with the crime
Of idle beggary should'st upbraid me more. 470
But thou art much a railer, one whose heart
Pity moves not, and seem'st a mighty man
And valiant to thyself, only because
Thou herd'st with few, and those of little worth.
But should Ulysses come, at his own isle 475
Again arrived, wide as these portals are,
To
