they bid them a long last farewell, persuaded that they should never see
them more; bathed them with their tears; embraced them with the utmost
fondness; clasped them eagerly in their arms; could not be prevailed upon
to part with them, till they were forced away, which was more grievous and
afflicting than if their hearts had been torn out of their breasts. The
hostages being arrived in Sicily, were carried from thence to Rome; and
the consuls told the deputies, that when they should arrive at Utica, they
would acquaint them with the orders of the republic.

In such a situation of affairs, nothing can be more grievous than a state
of uncertainty, which, without descending to particulars, gives occasion
to the mind to image to itself every misery.(875) As soon as it was known
that the fleet was arrived at Utica, the deputies repaired to the Roman
camp; signifying, that they were come in the name of their republic, in
order to receive their commands, which they were ready to obey. The
consul, after praising their good disposition and compliance, commanded
them to deliver up to him, without fraud or delay, all their arms. This
they consented to, but besought him to reflect on the sad condition to
which he was reducing them, at a time when Asdrubal, whose quarrel against
them was owing to no other cause than their perfect submission to the
orders of the Romans, was advanced almost to their gates, with an army of
twenty thousand men. The answer returned them was, that the Romans would
set that matter right.

This order was immediately put in execution.(876) There arrived in the
camp a long train of waggons, loaded with all the preparations of war,
taken out of Carthage: two hundred thousand complete sets of armour, a
numberless multitude of darts and javelins, with two thousand engines for
shooting darts and stones.(877) Then followed the deputies of Carthage,
accompanied by the most venerable senators and priests, who came purposely
to try to move the Romans to compassion in this critical moment, when
their sentence was going to be pronounced, and their fate would be
irreversible. Censorinus, the consul, for it was he who had all along
spoken, rose up for a moment at their coming, and expressed some kindness
and affection for them; but suddenly assuming a grave and severe
countenance: "I cannot," says he, "but commend the readiness with which
you execute the orders of the senate. They have commanded me to tell you,
that i