And seeing this affair must end in blood,
I brought a clout, to wipe the wounds withal.
Thra. Where are the rest?
San. Rest! Plague, whom d’ye mean?
There’s nobody, but Sannio, left at home.
Thra. Lead you the van (to Gnatho); and I’ll bring up the rear:
Thence give the word to all.
Gnat. What wisdom is!
Now he has drawn up these in rank and file,
His post behind secures him a retreat.