At the foot of Byrsa there stretched a long black mass: it was the temple of Tanith, a whole made up of monuments and galleries, courts and fore-courts, and bounded by a low wall of dry stones.
Spendius and Matho leaped over it.
This first barrier enclosed a wood of plane-trees as a precaution against plague and infection in the air.

Tents were scattered here and there, in which, during the daytime, depilatory pastes, perfumes, garments, moon-shaped cakes, and images of the goddess with representations of the temple hollowed out in blocks of alabaster, were on sale.
They had nothing to fear, for on nights when the planet did not appear, all rites were suspended; nevertheless Matho slackened his speed, and stopped before the three ebony steps leading to the second enclosure.
"Forward!" said Spendius.
Pomegranate, almond trees, cypresses and myrtles alternated in regular succession; the path, which was paved with blue pebbles, creaked beneath their footsteps, and full-blown roses formed a hanging bower over the whole length of the avenue.

They arrived before an oval hole protected by a grating.

Then Matho, who was frightened by the silence, said to Spendius: "It is here that they mix the fresh water and the bitter." "I have seen all that," returned the former slave, "in Syria, in the town of Maphug"; and they ascended into the third enclosure by a staircase of six silver steps.
A huge cedar occupied the centre.

Its lowest branches were hidden beneath scraps of material and necklaces hung upon them by the faithful.
They walked a few steps further on, and the front of the temple was displayed before them.
Two long porticoes, with their architraves resting on dumpy pillars, flanked a quadrangular tower, the platform of which was adorned with the crescent of a moon.