Everything stirred in a diffusion of red, for the god, as if he were
rending himself, now poured full-rayed upon Carthage the golden rain
of his veins. The beaks of the galleys sparkled, the roof of Khamon
appeared to be all in flames, while far within the temples, whose
doors were opening, glimmerings of light could be seen. Large chariots,
arriving from the country, rolled their wheels over the flagstones
in the streets. Dromedaries, baggage-laden, came down the ramps.
Money-changers raised the pent-houses of their shops at the cross ways,
storks took to flight, white sails fluttered. In the wood of Tanith
might be heard the tabourines of the sacred courtesans, and the furnaces
for baking the clay coffins were beginning to smoke on the Mappalian
point.
Spendius leaned over the terrace; his teeth chattered and he repeated:
"Ah! yes--yes--master! I understand why you scorned the pillage of the
house just now."
Matho was as if he had just been awaked by the hissing of his voice, and
did not seem to understand. Spendius resumed:
"Ah! what riches! and the men who possess them have not even the steel
to defend them!"
Then, pointing with his right arm outstretched to some of the populace
who were crawling on the sand outside the mole to look for gold dust:
"See!" he said to him, "the Republic is like these wretches: bending on
the brink of the ocean, she buries her greedy arms in every shore, and
the noise of the billows so fills her ear that she cannot hear behind
her the tread of a master's heel!"
He drew Matho to quite the other end of the terrace, and showed him the
garden, wherein the soldiers' swords, hanging on the trees, were like
mirrors in the sun.
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