elancholy tone. "I dwelt happy in my oasis until I rushed to your side,
drawn by some irresistible charm that emanates from your person. I, the
daughter of Iarbas the Garamantan, wearied of the comforts of my house,
of the songs of my slaves, and of the splendors which the merchants
flung from the caravans at my feet, went into the desert hunting lions
with Iarbas, and the warriors marveled when the most savage colts
trembled, obedient and timid, as soon as they felt me on their backs. I
was strong, and I was beautiful. Scarcely had I grown out of my girlhood
than the bravest of the Numidian sheikhs came seeking hospitality of my
father that they might see me, and they told of their flocks and of
their warriors, proposing an alliance to Iarbas. And I, indifferent,
cold, kept my thoughts ever on Carthage where I once had been in
company with my father to adjust the tribute with the rich men of the
Senate. Ah, the magnificent city, the immense city, with her temples as
huge as towns and her gigantic gods!"

Wandering from the trend of her ideas, she fell into enthusiastic
reminiscence of Carthage, the great city which after all her travels and
warlike adventures was still a vivid memory. She called to mind the
dwellings of the rich Carthaginians, with their polychrome walls
finished by brilliant spheres of metal and of glass; the great marble
temples, with their mysterious groves through which resounded the lyres
and cymbals of the priests; the temple of Tanith surrounded by rose
gardens, perfumed hiding places which served as shelters for the sacred
phallic rites in honor of the goddess; and then the port, the immense
port, with a whole city of ships which poured into the metropolis a
continual stream of riches from all over the world, tin from Brittania,
copper from Italy, silver from Iberia, gold from Ophir, frankincense
from Saba, amber from northern seas, purple from Tyre, ebony and ivory
from Ethiopia, spices and pearls from India, and brilliant fabrics from
nameless and mysterious peoples of Asia who dwelt at the uttermost
borders of the world, wrapped in the mists of legend.

She adored the city, not only for its splendors, but far more because it
harbored partisans of the Barcas, the supporters of the heroic family
whose deeds the Numidian warriors recounted in the moonlight, and of
whom Hannibal, who added renown to his name in the wars of Iberia when
still a boy, was the glorious descendant.

"My people ever