Salammbô

Gustave Flaubert
Salammbo

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Title: Salammbo
Author: Gustave Flaubert
Release Date: February 11, 2006 [EBook #1290]
Language: English
Character set encoding: ASCII
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SALAMMBO
By Gustave Flaubert
CHAPTER I
THE FEAST

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 Rome. Beside the heavy Dorian dialect
were audible the resonant Celtic syllables rattling like chariots of war,
while Ionian terminations conflicted with consonants of the desert as
harsh as the jackal's cry. The Greek might be recognised by his slender
figure, the Egyptian by his elevated shoulders, the Cantabrian by his
broad calves. There were Carians proudly nodding their helmet plumes,
Cappadocian archers displaying large flowers painted on their bodies
with the juice of herbs, and a few Lydians in women's robes, dining in
slippers and earrings. Others were ostentatiously daubed with vermilion,
and resembled coral statues.
They stretched themselves on the cushions, they ate squatting round
large trays, or lying face downwards they drew out the pieces of meat
and sated themselves, leaning on their elbows in the peaceful posture of
lions tearing their prey. The last comers stood leaning against the trees
watching the low tables half hidden beneath the scarlet coverings, and
awaiting their turn.
Hamilcar's kitchens being insufficient, the Council had sent them slaves,
ware, and beds, and in the middle of the garden, as on a battle-field
when they burn the dead, large bright fires might be seen, at which
oxen were roasting. Anise-sprinkled loaves alternated with great
cheeses heavier than discuses, crateras filled with wine, and
cantharuses filled with water, together with baskets of gold
filigree-work containing flowers. Every eye was dilated with the joy of
being able at last to gorge at pleasure, and songs were beginning here
and there.
First they were served with birds and green sauce in plates of red clay
relieved by drawings in black, then with every kind of shell-fish that is
gathered on the Punic coasts, wheaten porridge, beans and barley, and
snails dressed with cumin on dishes of yellow amber.
Afterwards the tables were covered with meats, antelopes with their

horns, peacocks with their feathers, whole sheep
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