Of these wild rebels, frantic with despair;
To shut them in will yield us better fruit,
And wither all their courage at the root.
'Tis easy to surround the city quite,
Save where the river shows an open line.
Scipio.
Now let us go, and straightway bring to light
This little-used and novel plan of mine;
Then to the Roman Senate in its might,
(If Heaven's smiles but on our project shine,)