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 Salammbô’s waist in token of possession; and taking a gold patera in his right hand, he drank to the Genius of Carthage.
Salammbô 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.