CHAPTER XV
MATHO
There were rejoicings at Carthage,--rejoicings deep, universal,
extravagant, frantic; the holes of the ruins had been stopped up, the
statues of the gods had been repainted, the streets were strewn with
myrtle branches, incense smoked at the corners of the crossways, and
the throng on the terraces looked, in their variegated garments, like
heaps of flowers blooming in the air.
The shouts of the water-carriers watering the pavement rose above the
continual screaming of voices; slaves belonging to Hamilcar offered in
his name roasted barley and pieces of raw meat; people accosted one
another, and embraced one another with tears; the Tyrian towns were
taken, the nomads dispersed, and all the Barbarians annihilated. The
Acropolis was hidden beneath coloured velaria; the beaks of the
triremes, drawn up in line outside the mole, shone like a dyke of
diamonds; everywhere there was a sense of the restoration of order,
the beginning of a new existence, and the diffusion of vast happiness:
it was the day of Salammbo's marriage with the King of the Numidians.
On the terrace of the temple of Khamon there were three long tables
laden with gigantic plate, at which the priests, Ancients, and the
rich were to sit, and there was a fourth and higher one for Hamilcar,
Narr' Havas, and Salammbo; for as she had saved her country by the
restoration of the zaimph, the people turned her wedding day into a
national rejoicing, and were waiting in the square below till she
should appear.
But their impatience was excited by another and more acrid longing:
Matho's death has been promised for the ceremony.
It had been proposed at first to flay him alive, to pour lead into his
entrails, to kill him with hunger; he should be tied to a tree, and an
ape behind him should strike him on the head with a stone; he had
offended Tanith, and the cynocephaluses of Tanith should avenge her.
Others were of opinion that he should be led about on a dromedary
after linen wicks, dipped in oil, had been inserted in his body in
several places;--and they took pleasure in the thought of the large
animal wandering through the streets with this man writhing beneath
the fires like a candelabrum blown about by the wind.
But what citizens should be charged with his torture, and why
disappoint the rest? They would have liked a kind of death in which
the whole town might take part, in which every hand, every weapon,
everything Carthaginian, to the very paving-stones in the streets and
the waves in the gulf, could rend him, and crush him, and annihilate
him. Accordingly the Ancients decided that he should go from his
prison to the square of Khamon without any escort, and with his arms
fastened to his back; it was forbidden to strike him to the heart, in
order that he might live the longer; to put out his eyes, so that he
might see the torture through; to hurl anything against his person, or
to lay more than three fingers upon him at a time.
Although he was not to appear until the end of the day, the people
sometimes fancied that he could be seen, and the crowd would rush
towards the Acropolis, and empty the streets, to return with
lengthened murmurings. Some people had remained standing in the same
place since the day before, and they would call on one another from a
distance and show their nails which they had allowed to grow, the
better to bury them into his flesh. Others walked restlessly up and
down; some were as pale as though they were awaiting their own
execution.
Suddenly lofty feather fans rose above the heads, behind the Mappalian
district. It was Salammbo leaving her palace; a sigh of relief found
vent.
But the procession was long in coming; it marched with deliberation.
First there filed past the priests of the Pataec Gods, then those of
Eschmoun, of Melkarth, and all the other colleges in succession, with
the same insignia, and in the same order as had been observed at the
time of the sacrifice. The pontiffs of Moloch passed with heads bent,
and the multitude stood aside from them in a kind of remorse. But the
priests of Rabbetna advanced with a proud step, and with lyres in
their hands; the priestesses followed them in transparent robes of
yellow or black, uttering cries like birds and writhing like vipers,
or else whirling round to the sound of flutes to imitate the dance of
the stars, while their light garments wafted puffs of delicate scents
through the streets.
The Kedeschim, with painted eyelids, who symbolised the hermaphrodism
of the Divinity, received applause among these women, and, being
perfumed and dressed like them, they resembled them in spite of their
flat breasts and narrower hips. Moreover, on this day the female
principle dominated and confused all things; a mystic voluptuousness
moved in the heavy air; the torches were already lighted in the depths
of the sacred woods; there was to be a great celebration there during
the night; three vessels had brought courtesans from Sicily, and
others had come from the desert.
As the colleges arrived they ranged themselves in the courts of the
temples, on the outer galleries, and along double staircases which
rose against the walls, and drew together at the top. Files of white
robes appeared between the colonnades, and the architecture was
peopled with human statues, motionless as statues of stone.
Then came the masters of the exchequer, the governors of the
provinces, and all the rich. A great tumult prevailed below. Adjacent
streets were discharging the crowd, hierodules were driving it back
with blows of sticks; and then Salammbo appeared in a litter
surmounted by a purple canopy, and surrounded by the Ancients crowned
with their golden tiaras.
Thereupon an immense shout arose; the cymbals and crotala sounded more
loudly, the tabourines thundered, and the great purple canopy sank
between the two pylons.
It appeared again on the first landing. Salammbo was walking slowly
beneath it; then she crossed the terrace to take her seat behind on a
kind of throne cut out of the carapace of a tortoise. An ivory stool
with three steps was pushed beneath her feet; two Negro children knelt
on the edge of the first step, and sometimes she would rest both arms,
which were laden with rings of excessive weight, upon their heads.
From ankle to hip she was covered with a network of narrow meshes
which were in imitation of fish scales, and shone like mother-of-
pearl; her waist was clasped by a blue zone, which allowed her breasts
to be seen through two crescent-shaped slashings; the nipples were
hidden by carbuncle pendants. She had a headdress made of peacock's
feathers studded with gems; an ample cloak, as white as snow, fell
behind her,--and with her elbows at her sides, her knees pressed
together, and circles of diamonds on the upper part of her arms, she
remained perfectly upright in a hieratic attitude.
Her father and her husband were on two lower seats, Narr' Havas
dressed in a light simar and wearing his crown of rock-salt, from
which there strayed two tresses of hair as twisted as the horns of
Ammon; and Hamilcar in a violet tunic figured with gold vine branches,
and with a battle-sword at his side.
The python of the temple of Eschmoun lay on the ground amid pools of
pink oil in the space enclosed by the tables, and, biting its tail,
described a large black circle. In the middle of the circle there was
a copper pillar bearing a crystal egg; and, as the sun shone upon it,
rays were emitted on every side.
Behind Salammbo stretched the priests of Tanith in linen robes; on her
right the Ancients, in their tiaras, formed a great gold line, and on
the other side the rich with their emerald sceptres a great green
line,--while quite in the background, where the priests of Moloch were
ranged, the cloaks looked like a wall of purple. The other colleges
occupied the lower terraces. The multitude obstructed the streets. It
reached to the house-tops, and extended in long files to the summit of
the Acropolis. Having thus the people at her feet, the firmament above
her head, and around her the immensity of the sea, the gulf, the
mountains, and the distant provinces, Salammbo in her splendour was
blended with Tanith, and seemed the very genius of Carthage, and its
embodied soul.
The feast was to last all night, and lamps with several branches were
planted like trees on the painted woollen cloths which covered the low
tables. Large electrum flagons, blue glass amphoras, tortoise-shell
spoons, and small round loaves were crowded between the double row of
pearl-bordered plates; bunches of grapes with their leaves had been
rolled round ivory vine-stocks after the fashion of the thyrsus;
blocks of snow were melting on ebony trays, and lemons, pomegranates,
gourds, and watermelons formed hillocks beneath the lofty silver
plate; boars with open jaws were wallowing in the dust of spices;
hares, covered with their fur, appeared to be bounding amid the
flowers; there were shells filled with forcemeat; the pastry had
symbolic shapes; when the covers of the dishes were removed doves flew
out.
The slaves, meanwhile, with tunics tucked up, were going about on
tiptoe; from time to time a hymn sounded on the lyres, or a choir of
voices rose. The clamour of the people, continuous as the noise of the
sea, floated vaguely around the feast, and seemed to lull it in a
broader harmony; some recalled the banquet of the Mercenaries; they
gave themselves up to dreams of happiness; the sun was beginning to go
down, and the crescent of the moon was already rising in another part
of the sky.
But Salammbo turned her head as though some one had called her; the
people, who were watching her, followed the direction of her eyes.
The door of the dungeon, hewn in the rock at the foot of the temple,
on the summit of the Acropolis, had just opened; and a man was
standing on the threshold of this black hole.
He came forth bent double, with the scared look of fallow deer when
suddenly enlarged.
The light dazzled him; he stood motionless awhile. All had recognised
him, and they held their breath.
In their eyes the body of this victim was something peculiarly theirs,
and was adorned with almost religious splendour. They bent forward to
see him, especially the women. They burned to gaze upon him who had
caused the deaths of their children and husbands; and from the bottom
of their souls there sprang up in spite of themselves an infamous
curiosity, a desire to know him completely, a wish mingled with
remorse which turned to increased execration.
At last he advanced; then the stupefaction of surprise disappeared.
Numbers of arms were raised, and he was lost to sight.
The staircase of the Acropolis had sixty steps. He descended them as
though he were rolled down in a torrent from the top of a mountain;
three times he was seen to leap, and then he alighted below on his
feet.
His shoulders were bleeding, his breast was panting with great shocks;
and he made such efforts to burst his bonds that his arms, which were
crossed on his naked loins, swelled like pieces of a serpent.
Several streets began in front of him, leading from the spot at which
he found himself. In each of them a triple row of bronze chains
fastened to the navels of the Pataec gods extended in parallel lines
from one end to the other; the crowd was massed against the houses,
and servants, belonging to the Ancients, walked in the middle
brandishing thongs.
One of them drove him forward with a great blow; Matho began to move.
They thrust their arms over the chains shouting out that the road had
been left too wide for him; and he passed along, felt, pricked, and
slashed by all those fingers; when he reached the end of one street
another appeared; several times he flung himself to one side to bite
them; they speedily dispersed, the chains held him back, and the crowd
burst out laughing.
A child rent his ear; a young girl, hiding the point of a spindle in
her sleeve, split his cheek; they tore handfuls of hair from him and
strips of flesh; others smeared his face with sponges steeped in filth
and fastened upon sticks. A stream of blood started from the right
side of his neck, frenzy immediately set in. This last Barbarian was
to them a representative of all the Barbarians, and all the army; they
were taking vengeance on him for their disasters, their terrors, and
their shame. The rage of the mob developed with its gratification; the
curving chains were over-strained, and were on the point of breaking;
the people did not feel the blows of the slaves who struck at them to
drive them back; some clung to the projections of the houses; all the
openings in the walls were stopped up with heads; and they howled at
him the mischief that they could not inflict upon him.
It was atrocious, filthy abuse mingled with ironical encouragements
and imprecations; and, his present tortures not being enough for them,
they foretold to him others that should be still more terrible in
eternity.
This vast baying filled Carthage with stupid continuity. Frequently a
single syllable--a hoarse, deep, and frantic intonation--would be
repeated for several minutes by the entire people. The walls would
vibrate with it from top to bottom, and both sides of the street would
seem to Matho to be coming against him, and carrying him off the
ground, like two immense arms stifling him in the air.
Nevertheless he remembered that he had experienced something like it
before. The same crowd was on the terraces, there were the same looks
and the same wrath; but then he had walked free, all had then
dispersed, for a god covered him;--and the recollection of this,
gaining precision by degrees, brought a crushing sadness upon him.
Shadows passed before his eyes; the town whirled round in his head,
his blood streamed from a wound in his hip, he felt that he was dying;
his hams bent, and he sank quite gently upon the pavement.
Some one went to the peristyle of the temple of Melkarth, took thence
the bar of a tripod, heated red hot in the coals, and, slipping it
beneath the first chain, pressed it against his wound. The flesh was
seen to smoke; the hootings of the people drowned his voice; he was
standing again.
Six paces further on, and he fell a third and again a fourth time; but
some new torture always made him rise. They discharged little drops of
boiling oil through tubes at him; they strewed pieces of broken glass
beneath his feet; still he walked on. At the corner of the street of
Satheb he leaned his back against the wall beneath the pent-house of a
shop, and advanced no further.
The slaves of the Council struck him with their whips of hippopotamus
leather, so furiously and long that the fringes of their tunics were
drenched with sweat. Matho appeared insensible; suddenly he started
off and began to run at random, making a noise with his lips like one
shivering with severe cold. He threaded the street of Boudes, and the
street of Soepo, crossed the Green Market, and reached the square of
Khamon.
He now belonged to the priests; the slaves had just dispersed the
crowd, and there was more room. Matho gazed round him and his eyes
encountered Salammbo.
At the first step that he had taken she had risen; then, as he
approached, she had involuntarily advanced by degrees to the edge of
the terrace; and soon all external things were blotted out, and she
saw only Matho. Silence fell in her soul,--one of those abysses
wherein the whole world disappears beneath the pressure of a single
thought, a memory, a look. This man who was walking towards her
attracted her.
Excepting his eyes he had no appearance of humanity left; he was a
long, perfectly red shape; his broken bonds hung down his thighs, but
they could not be distinguished from the tendons of his wrists, which
were laid quite bare; his mouth remained wide open; from his eye-
sockets there darted flames which seemed to rise up to his hair;--and
the wretch still walked on!
He reached the foot of the terrace. Salammbo was leaning over the
balustrade; those frightful eyeballs were scanning her, and there rose
within her a consciousness of all that he had suffered for her.
Although he was in his death agony she could see him once more
kneeling in his tent, encircling her waist with his arms, and
stammering out gentle words; she thirsted to feel them and hear them
again; she did not want him to die! At this moment Matho gave a great
start; she was on the point of shrieking aloud. He fell backwards and
did not stir again.
Salammbo was borne back, nearly swooning, to her throne by the priests
who flocked about her. They congratulated her; it was her work. All
clapped their hands and stamped their feet, howling her name.
A man darted upon the corpse. Although he had no beard he had the
cloak of a priest of Moloch on his shoulder, and in his belt that
species of knife which they employed for cutting up the sacred meat,
and which terminated, at the end of the handle, in a golden spatula.
He cleft Matho's breast with a single blow, then snatched out the
heart and laid it upon the spoon; and Schahabarim, uplifting his arm,
offered it to the sun.
The sun sank behind the waves; his rays fell like long arrows upon the
red heart. As the beatings diminished the planet sank into the sea;
and at the last palpitation it disappeared.
Then from the gulf to the lagoon, and from the isthmus to the pharos,
in all the streets, on all the houses, and on all the temples, there
was a single shout; sometimes it paused, to be again renewed; the
buildings shook with it; Carthage was convulsed, as it were, in the
spasm of Titanic joy and boundless hope.
Narr' Havas, drunk with pride, passed his left arm beneath Salammbo's
waist in token of possession; and taking a gold patera in his right
hand, he drank to the Genius of Carthage.
Salammbo rose like her husband, with a cup in her hand, to drink also.
She fell down again with her head lying over the back of the throne,--
pale, stiff, with parted lips,--and her loosened hair hung to the
ground.
Thus died Hamilcar's daughter for having touched the mantle of Tanith.
