His unnatural voice was like a roar; he said: "Perhaps you are right, Demonades.

In fact there are many ulcers here which have closed.

I feel robust.

Here! look how I am eating!" And less from greediness than from ostentation, and the desire to prove to himself that he was in good health, he cut into the forcemeats of cheese and marjoram, the boned fish, gourds, oysters with eggs, horse-radishes, truffles, and brochettes of small birds.

As he looked at the prisoners he revelled in the imagination of their tortures.
Nevertheless he remembered Sicca, and the rage caused by all his woes found vent in the abuse of these three men.
"Ah! traitors! ah! wretches! infamous, accursed creatures! And you outraged me!--me! the Suffet! Their services, the price of their blood, say they! Ah! yes! their blood! their blood!" Then speaking to himself:--"All shall perish! not one shall be sold! It would be better to bring them to Carthage! I should be seen--but doubtless, I have not brought chains enough?
Write: Send me--How many of them are there?
go and ask Muthumbal! Go! no pity! and let all their hands be cut off and brought to me in baskets!" But strange cries at once hoarse and shrill penetrated into the hall above Hanno's voice and the rattling of the dishes that were being placed around him.