“Well, then, I will before all enter into the question of General Hanno’s remarks—or was it Monomachus? I forget which—about invading Italia by sea, which, since we have the fleet, would naturally seem the easiest way. Well, Hannibal, wherefore, by all the gods of all the known world! shouldst thou, having got the fleet, enter upon this war, or rather this invasion of Italia, in such a hazardous manner by land, thus cutting thyself off as thou wilt do from all thy communications? Why not, instead of invading Italia—by doing which thou wilt be at a disadvantage—let the Romans come here, as they will, and attack us. Here thou knowest the ground and the people. Here by the recent alliance concluded through Maharbal and his affianced wife Melania, thou hast gained important allies—trustworthy, no doubt, while thou art here to watch them. Why then not stay here, where thou art supreme, and let the Romans come, and then destroy them in detail, instead of thrusting thyself, as thou must, with a comparatively small force into the midst of a terrible hornet’s nest against fearful odds? I would, in sooth, like to know thy reason, for although I offer no counsel, well-knowing thou takest counsel from no man, it may be instructive to all of us here present to know hereafter what are the reasons which impel thee to undertake this most wonderful—this most gigantic enterprise.”
CHAPTER III.
HANNIBAL’S DREAM.
Hannibal rose from his seat, called for a cup of wine, tasted it, put it down, walked up and down the room, sipped at his wine again as if in thought, before he replied. At last he answered:
“After deep thought I have decided. Well, I think that I may tell unto ye all my mission, for it is a mission of the gods. I cannot tell whether or no it may be ultimately successful, but of one thing am I assured, I shall, for a time, at all events, be the means of humbling this trebly accursed State of Rome, which is gradually diminishing all the ancient power of Phœnicia, and hath already wrested the whole of Sicily from her grasp in honest fight, and won also from the Punic rule, but by fraud, the fair isle of Sardinia.
“Listen now. I went, as ye all know, not long since—that is, directly after my return to New Carthage after we had captured this place, Saguntum—on a pilgrimage. That pilgrimage was to the temple of Melcareth in Gades. Now Gades is, perhaps, the oldest Phœnician settlement in the whole of Iberia. Its origin is so old that the records cannot tell whether the earliest inhabitants of Gades came from Tyre or from Sidon, but they are pure Phœnicians to this day, and as such worship the great invisible god Melcareth. Their language is not quite the same as our own, and is somewhat mixed with Greek—it hath, withal, a slight admixture of the Iberian tongue; but all their religious customs are most pure and holy. And the temple in Gades of the great god Melcareth is worthy in its architecture of all the highest civilisation of the country of Carthage as it was when I remember it as a boy. There is a peculiar solemnity about the temple, and upon first entering it I was struck by the evident presence of the omnipotent being. I fell upon my face, overpowered by this feeling, just within the threshold; but a hoary-headed priest came forward, raised me up, and, with comforting words, led me towards the altar. There, feeling all the time that I was actually in the presence of an omnipotent being, I accomplished my sacrifice, plunged my right arm in the blood, and renewed solemnly the oath which I made when but a boy of nine in the presence of my father Hamilcar. This oath was one of eternal hatred against the Romans, and of life-long effort to reduce the pride of these enemies of our country. I must tell ye, that having no son, I took with me my daughter Elissa, and made her swear the same oath as I swore when a boy. Closely veiled she was, and humble as becometh one worshipping the gods. I also made her vow to the gods that all her life she should devote herself to her country, even as had she been my son instead of my daughter, and that, henceforth, whatever the past had been, self was to be held of no account, but that her nation’s welfare was before everything to be considered. And I swore the same oath with her.
“The priests left us alone at length, in meditation on our knees before the altar of the almighty Melcareth. The sacrificial fire burned low, only an occasional gleam flared up from the glowing embers. Daylight faded away into utter darkness. Overcome by the sense of the solemnity of the holy place, and the soporific effect of the smoke and the simmering incense, both my daughter and myself fell upon our faces at length in a kind of stupor. Suddenly the whole gloom of the mighty fane became illumined with a brilliant light. My daughter and I both sprung up, and our eyes were dazzled as we saw the great god Melcareth appear in person before us. My daughter almost instantly sunk senseless before the divinity; but not so I. The god stretched out his hand towards me and uttered the following words:—
“ ‘Hannibal, son of Hamilcar, thou shalt avenge thy father’s misfortunes. Great shall be thy glory, but great also shall be thy downfall. Strive, nevertheless, strive to the end; thou shalt reap thy reward hereafter, and thy name shall never die. Yea, I am the great god Melcareth, who will ever have thee in my protection. In good days or in evil days rest upon my bosom, for even in the evil days I will be near thee, although thou seest me not. Now sleep, my son, sleep, and thy destiny shall be revealed unto thee by me in a dream.’
“Gradually the blazing light and the resplendent figure of the god faded away. I sank upon my face before the glowing altar fire and slept. And I dreamt a dream. At least it was not a dream that I dreamt, but a vision that I experienced.
“Suddenly I found myself translated into a wonderful dazzling abode of light, where, sitting in a beautiful garden, were present all the gods of Carthage. Melcareth was there, and Tanais. Towering above all the others stood Moloch, and fierce indeed and terrible was he of aspect, and yet he ever smiled and the fixed angry look upon his face ever relaxed when Tanais addressed him, which she did frequently. As for Tanais, whom we also call Astarte, no radiant vision of beautiful young womanhood that man’s soul or brain hath ever imagined can realise her excessive, delightful, and bewitching beauty.
“ ‘Moloch,’ quoth she, ‘Moloch, my well-beloved, be not angry, for I must embrace this Hannibal, the son of Hamilcar, although, indeed, he worshippeth thee and not me upon earth; yet, for all thy frowns, will I now take him to my bosom.’