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Flaubert, Gustave, 1821-1880

"Salammbo"

The
Mercenaries, Hamilcar, every obstacle had now disappeared. The moon was
gliding between two clouds. They could see it through an opening in the
tent. "Ah, what nights have I spent gazing at her! she seemed to me like
a veil that hid your face; you would look at me through her; the memory
of you was mingled with her beams; then I could no longer distinguish
you!" And with his head between her breasts he wept copiously.
"And this," she thought, "is the formidable man who makes Carthage
tremble!"
He fell asleep. Then disengaging herself from his arm she put one foot
to the ground, and she perceived that her chainlet was broken.
The maidens of the great families were accustomed to respect these
shackles as something that was almost religious, and Salammbo, blushing,
rolled the two pieces of the golden chain around her ankles.
Carthage, Megara, her house, her room, and the country that she had
passed through, whirled in tumultuous yet distinct images through her
memory. But an abyss had yawned and thrown them far back to an infinite
distance from her.
The storm was departing; drops of water splashing rarely, one by one,
made the tent-roof shake.
Matho slept like a drunken man, stretched on his side, and with one arm
over the edge of the couch.


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