Book VII, Epigram 63: In Cinnamum

Thou wast a Barber through the Citty known,
Though by thy Mistris raised to the gown,
Of Knight-hood (Cinnamus) when thou shalt fly
The judgment of the Court to Sicily,
What Art shall then sustain thy uselesse age?
How will thy Fugitive rest foot the stage?
Thou canst not be Grammarian, Rhetorician,
Fencer, nor Cinick on any condition
Nor yet a Stoick, nor canst sell thy tongue
Or thy applause in the Sicilian throng:
What then (my Cinnamus) doth yet remain?
Why thou must e'en turn shaver once again.