Those who had been born in towns recalled the resounding streets, the
taverns, theatres, baths, and the barbers' shops where there are tales
to be heard. Others could once more see country districts at sunset,
when the yellow corn waves, and the great oxen ascend the hills again
with the ploughshares on their necks. Travellers dreamed of cisterns,
hunters of their forests, veterans of battles; and in the somnolence
that benumbed them their thoughts jostled one another with the
precipitancy and clearness of dreams. Hallucinations came suddenly upon
them; they sought for a door in the mountain in order to flee, and tried
to pass through it. Others thought that they were sailing in a storm
and gave orders for the handling of a ship, or else fell back in terror,
perceiving Punic battalions in the clouds. There were some who imagined
themselves at a feast, and sang.
Many through a strange mania would repeat the same word or continually
make the same gesture. Then when they happened to raise their heads
and look at one another they were choked with sobs on discovering the
horrible ravages made in their faces. Some had ceased to suffer, and to
while away the hours told of the perils which they had escaped.
Death was certain and imminent to all.
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