V

So, the painter Pacchiarotto Constructed himself a grotto In the quarter of Stalloreggi-- As authors of note allege ye. And on each of the whitewashed sides of it He painted--(none far and wide so fit As he to perform in fresco)-- He painted nor cried quiesco Till he peopled its every square foot With Man--from the Beggar barefoot To the Noble in cap and feather; All sorts and conditions together. The Soldier in breastplate and helmet Stood frowningly--hail fellow well met-- By the Priest armed with bell, book, and candle. Nor did he omit to handle The Fair Sex, our brave distemperer: Not merely King, Clown, Pope, Emperor-- He diversified too his Hades Of all forms, pinched Labor and paid Ease, With as mixed an assemblage of Ladies.