Schahabarim walked on, giving no reply, and, traversing the whole enclosure with deliberation, reached the legs of the colossus; then, spreading out both arms, he touched it on both sides, which was a solemn form of adoration.For a long time Rabbet had been torturing him, and in despair, or perhaps for lack of a god that completely satisfied his ideas, he had at last decided for this one.
The crowd, terrified by this act of apostasy, uttered a lengthened murmur.It was felt that the last tie which bound their souls to a merciful divinity was breaking.
But owing to his mutilation, Schahabarim could take no part in the cult of the Baal.The men in the red cloaks shut him out from the enclosure; then, when he was outside, he went round all the colleges in succession, and the priest, henceforth without a god, disappeared into the crowd.It scattered at his approach.
Meanwhile a fire of aloes, cedar, and laurel was burning between the legs of the colossus.The tips of its long wings dipped into the flame; the unguents with which it had been rubbed flowed like sweat over its brazen limbs.Around the circular flagstone on which its feet rested, the children, wrapped in black veils, formed a motionless circle; and its extravagantly long arms reached down their palms to them as though to seize the crown that they formed and carry it to the sky.
The rich, the Ancients, the women, the whole multitude, thronged behind the priests and on the terraces of the houses.The large painted stars revolved no longer; the tabernacles were set upon the ground; and the fumes from the censers ascended perpendicularly, spreading their bluish branches through the azure like gigantic trees.
Many fainted; others became inert and petrified in their ecstasy.
Infinite anguish weighed upon the breasts of the beholders.The last shouts died out one by one,--and the people of Carthage stood breathless, and absorbed in the longing of their terror.
At last the high priest of Moloch passed his left hand beneath the children's veils, plucked a lock of hair from their foreheads, and threw it upon the flames.Then the men in the red cloaks chanted the sacred hymn:
"Homage to thee, Sun! king of the two zones, self-generating Creator, Father and Mother, Father and Son, God and Goddess, Goddess and God!"And their voices were lost in the outburst of instruments sounding simultaneously to drown the cries of the victims.The eight-stringed scheminiths, the kinnors which had ten strings, and the nebals which had twelve, grated, whistled, and thundered.Enormous leathern bags, bristling with pipes, made a shrill clashing noise; the tabourines, beaten with all the players' might, resounded with heavy, rapid blows;and, in spite of the fury of the clarions, the salsalim snapped like grasshoppers' wings.
The hierodules, with a long hook, opened the seven-storied compartments on the body of the Baal.They put meal into the highest, two turtle-doves into the second, an ape into the third, a ram into the fourth, a sheep into the fifth, and as no ox was to be had for the sixth, a tawny hide taken from the sanctuary was thrown into it.The seventh compartment yawned empty still.
Before undertaking anything it was well to make trial of the arms of the god.Slender chainlets stretched from his fingers up to his shoulders and fell behind, where men by pulling them made the two hands rise to a level with the elbows, and come close together against the belly; they were moved several times in succession with little abrupt jerks.Then the instruments were still.The fire roared.
The pontiffs of Moloch walked about on the great flagstone scanning the multitude.
