Salammbo. Gustave Flaubert

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       Gustave Flaubert

      Salammbo

      Published by Good Press, 2019

       [email protected]

      EAN 4057664171931

       CHAPTER I

       THE FEAST

       CHAPTER II

       AT SICCA

       CHAPTER III

       Salammbô

       CHAPTER IV

       BENEATH THE WALLS OF CARTHAGE

       CHAPTER V

       TANITH

       CHAPTER VI

       HANNO

       CHAPTER VII

       HAMILCAR BARCA

       CHAPTER VIII

       THE BATTLE OF THE MACARAS

       CHAPTER IX

       IN THE FIELD

       CHAPTER X

       THE SERPENT

       CHAPTER XI

       IN THE TENT

       CHAPTER XII

       THE AQUEDUCT

       CHAPTER XIII

       MOLOCH

       CHAPTER XIV

       THE PASS OF THE HATCHET

       CHAPTER XV

       MATHO

       Table of Contents

       Table of Contents

      It was at Megara, a suburb of Carthage, in the gardens of Hamilcar. The soldiers whom he had commanded in Sicily were having a great feast to celebrate the anniversary of the battle of Eryx, and as the master was away, and they were numerous, they ate and drank with perfect freedom.

      The captains, who wore bronze cothurni, had placed themselves in the central path, beneath a gold-fringed purple awning, which reached from the wall of the stables to the first terrace of the palace; the common soldiers were scattered beneath the trees, where numerous flat-roofed buildings might be seen, wine-presses, cellars, storehouses, bakeries, and arsenals, with a court for elephants, dens for wild beasts, and a prison for slaves.

      Fig-trees surrounded the kitchens; a wood of sycamores stretched away to meet masses of verdure, where the pomegranate shone amid the white tufts of the cotton-plant; vines, grape-laden, grew up into the branches of the pines; a field of roses bloomed beneath the plane-trees; here and there lilies rocked upon the turf; the paths were strewn with black sand mingled with powdered coral, and in the centre the avenue of cypress formed, as it were, a double colonnade of green obelisks from one extremity to the other.

      Far in the background stood the palace, built of yellow mottled Numidian marble, broad courses supporting its four terraced stories. With its large, straight, ebony staircase, bearing the prow of a vanquished galley at the corners of every step, its red doors quartered with black crosses, its brass gratings protecting it from scorpions below, and its trellises of gilded rods closing the apertures above, it seemed to the soldiers in its haughty opulence as solemn and impenetrable as the face of Hamilcar.

      The Council had appointed his house for the holding of this feast; the convalescents lying in the temple of Eschmoun had set out at daybreak and dragged themselves thither on their crutches. Every minute others were arriving. They poured in ceaselessly by every path like torrents rushing into a lake; through the trees the slaves of the kitchens might be seen running scared and half-naked; the gazelles fled bleating on the lawns; the sun was setting, and the perfume of citron trees rendered the exhalation from the perspiring crowd heavier still.

      Men of all nations were there, Ligurians, Lusitanians, Balearians, Negroes, and fugitives from

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