Behind, the troops advance. No way is seen 705 a Here the original poem breaks off abruptly, having been left unfinished by the author. CON Behind, the troops advance. No way is seen 705 T'escape, or scarce a glorious death to win. No room with Naughter'd foes to strew the plain, And bravely fall amidst a pile of Nain. A captive to the place he now appears, Doubtful if death should move his hope, or fears. 710 In this distress a sudden thought infpir’d His hardy breaft, by great examples fir'd; Bold Scæva's action he to mind recalls, And glory won near fam'd Dyrrachium's walls; Where, whilft his men a doubtful fight maintain, 715 And Pompey Atrove the batter'd works to gain, Amidst a field of foes, that hemm’d him round, Alone the brave Centurion kept his ground. a ** Here the original poem breaks off abruptly, having been left unfinished by the author. CON |