“Latreus, the bulkiest of the double race, Whom the spoil’d arms of slain Halesus grace; In years retaining still his youthful might, Though his black hairs were interspersed with white, Between the embattled ranks began to prance, Proud of his helm, and Macedonian lance, And rode the ring around, that either host Might hear him, while he made this empty boast: ‘And from a female shall we suffer shame? For Caenis still, not Caeneus, is thy name; And still the native softness of thy kind Prevails, and leaves the woman in thy mind: Remember what thou wert; what price was paid To change thy sex; to make thee not a maid And but a man in show: go, card and spin, And leave the business of the war to men.’