A few--those who were the least rich of the Council and
were suspected of perpetual leanings towards the people or towards
tyranny--applauded. Their opponents, chiefs of the Syssitia and
administrators, triumphed over them in point of numbers; and the more
eminent of them had ranged themselves close to Hanno, who was sitting at
the other end of the hall before the lofty door, which was closed by a
hanging of hyacinth colour.
He had covered the ulcers on his face with paint. But the gold dust in
his hair had fallen upon his shoulders, where it formed two brilliant
sheets, so that his hair appeared whitish, fine, and frizzled like wool.
His hands were enveloped in linen soaked in a greasy perfume, which
dripped upon the pavement, and his disease had no doubt considerably
increased, for his eyes were hidden beneath the folds of his eyelids.
He had thrown back his head in order to see. His partisans urged him to
speak. At last in a hoarse and hideous voice he said:
"Less arrogance, Barca! We have all been vanquished! Each one supports
his own misfortune! Be resigned!"
"Tell us rather," said Hamilcar, smiling, "how it was that you steered
your galleys into the Roman fleet?"
"I was driven by the wind," replied Hanno.
"You are like a rhinoceros trampling on his dung: you are displaying
your own folly! be silent!" And they began to indulge in recriminations
respecting the battle of the Aegatian islands.
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