The giddy vulgar, as their fancies guide, With noise say nothing, and in parts divide.
Forlorn she look’d, without an aiding oar, And, houted by the vulgar, made to shore.
He stood; and, while secure they fed below, He took the quiver and the trusty bow Achates us’d to bear: the leaders first He laid along, and then the vulgar pierc’d; Nor ceas’d his arrows, till the shady plain Sev’n mighty bodies with their blood distain.
BOOK XII When Turnus saw the Latins leave the field, Their armies broken, and their courage quell’d, Himself become the mark of public spite, His honor question’d for the promis’d fight; The more he was with vulgar hate oppress’d, The more his fury boil’d within his breast: He rous’d his vigor for the last debate, And rais’d his haughty soul to meet his fate.
) The ductile rind and leaves of radiant gold: This from the vulgar branches must be torn, And to fair Proserpine the present borne, Ere leave be giv’n to tempt the nether skies.
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Her vulgarity was a turnoff.
As if I’d ever given her grounds to believe I’d stoop to such vulgarity!