Why not fight the sciencemen on their own-own ground?

Alders were sleeping, and willows weeping by a slow river of rippling weeds; gladdon-swords guarded the fords, and green spears, and arrow-reeds.

The general disembarked the troops.

So it is the world wags: that honest men and knaves alike are always having ups and downs of fortune, and that we are perpetually changing tenants in Our Street.