'Who are your brethren?' the Consul asked the ambassadors who stood before him.
'The Teutones,' answered they.
Those who surrounded Marius laughed, for well they knew what had befallen the Teutones.
'Do not trouble yourselves for your brethren,' replied Marius, taunting them, 'for we have already provided land for them, which they shall possess for ever.'
Then the ambassadors understood that their brethren lay slain upon the ground, and their anger rose. Fearless of danger, they hurled threats at the Consul, saying that the Cimbri and those Teutones who were still left alive would avenge the death of their fellows.
'Their rulers are not far off,' cried Marius. 'It will be unkindly done of you to go away before greeting your brethren.'
Then the kings of the Teutones, who had been captured, were brought before the ambassadors, loaded with chains.
Seeing how these mighty chiefs had been humbled, the ambassadors were silent, and soon after they went back to the Cimbri to tell them what they had heard and seen in the Roman camp.
The Cimbri could not restrain their rage when they knew what had befallen their allies. Three days later they were on the plains of Vercellæ, impatient to avenge their defeat.
Marius, too, was eager for battle. His cavalry, strong as ever, wore that day strange helmets. Each one looked like the head of some strange beast, while above the head waved a lofty plume, that added to the height of the soldier. Their white shields gleamed in the sun, and their breastplates were of iron.
The day began in discomfort for the Cimbri. Cold and frost they could endure, as they had shown when they crossed the Alps, but heat soon made them weak and stupid.
