Surrounded and abandoned to his fate.
Nor long they hold him in their power aboard,
E’en every villain drew his ruthless sword:
The chief perceived their purpose soon, and spread
His Roman gown, with patience, o’er his head;
And when the cursed Achillas pierced his breast,
His rising indignation close repressed.
No signs, no groans, his dignity profaned,
No tear his still unsullied glory stained.
Unmoved and firm he fixed him on his seat,