The return of the consuls renewed the general grief in the camp, insomuch that the men hardly refrained from offering violence to them, "by whose rashness," they said, "they had been brought into such a situation; and through whose cowardice they were likely to depart with greater disgrace than they came.

They had employed no guide through the country, nor scouts; but were sent out blindly, like beasts into a pitfall" They cast looks on each other, viewed earnestly the arms which they must presently surrender; while their persons would be subject to the whim of the enemy: figured to themselves the hostile yoke, the scoffs of the conquerors, their haughty looks, and finally, thus disarmed, their march through the midst of an armed foe.
In a word, they saw with horror the miserable journey of their dishonoured band through the cities of the allies; and their return into their own country, to their parents, whither themselves, and their ancestors, had so often come in triumph.

Observing, that "they alone had been conquered without a fight, without a weapon thrown, without a wound; that they had not been permitted to draw their swords, nor to engage the enemy.

In vain had arms, in vain had strength, in vain had courage been given them." While they were giving vent to such grievous reflections, the fatal hour of their disgrace arrived, which was to render every circumstance still more shocking in fact, than they had preconceived it in their imaginations.

First, they were ordered to go out, beyond the rampart, unarmed, and with single garments; then the hostages were surrendered, and carried into custody.