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Tormented by falling stones and blazing phalarics which set fire to their clothing and clung to their naked flesh, roasting them until they writhed in agony, they rushed to the river like animated torches. Now a block in the wall was giving way! Now it rolled out of place! The most important thing was to remove the first; after it the others would follow.
"Death!" exclaimed Hannibal, laughing. "Who thinks of death?" "Am I then immortal? Do I not fight like any one of your soldiers? I hurl myself impetuously through forests of lances; feathered shafts hiss around me like a trailing mantle of invisible birds; I scorn the phalarics with their streams of fire but some day I shall die; my dreams foretell it."
It was bristling with arrows, moving like a monstrous elephant, insensible to wounds, and in vain the phalarics whistled through the air with their trail of sparks and smoke, for they could not set fire to the wet hides with which the upper part of the tower was covered.
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