With such mental conditions around him Rameses enjoyed much freedom. Almost every evening when his attendants had drunk too much wine and had begun to lose consciousness, the prince slipped out of the palace. Hidden by the dark burnous of an officer, he hurried through the empty streets and out beyond the city to the gardens of the temple of Astaroth. There he found the bench before that small villa, and, hidden among the trees, listened to the song of Kama's worshipper, and dreamed of the priestess. The moon rose later and later, drawing near its renewal. The nights were dark, the effects of light were gone; but in spite of this Rameses continued to see that brightness of the first night, and he heard the passionate strophes of the Greek singer. More than once he rose from his bench to go directly to Kama's dwelling, but shame seized him. He felt that it did not become the heir of Egypt to show himself in the house of a priestess who was visited by any pilgrim who gave a bountiful offering to the temple. What was more striking, he feared lest the sight of Kama surrounded by pitchers and unsuccessful admirers might extinguish the wonderful picture in the moonlight. When Dagon had sent her to turn away the prince's wrath, Kama seemed attractive, but not a maiden for whom a man might lose his head straightway. But when he, a leader of armies and a viceroy, was forced for the first time in life to sit outside the house of a woman, when the night roused him to imaginings, and when he heard the adroit declarations of another, a strange feeling rose in him,--a mixture of sadness, desire, and jealousy. If he could have had Kama at every call, she would have become repulsive quickly, and perhaps he would have fled from her. But Death, standing on the threshold of her bedchamber, an enamored singer, and, finally, that humiliating position of the highest dignitary before a priestess,--all this created a condition which for Rameses was unknown till that time, hence enticing. And this was why he had appeared almost every evening of ten successive days in the gardens of the goddess Astaroth, shielding his face from all who passed him. Once, when he had drunk much wine at a feast in his palace, Rameses slipped out with a settled purpose. "To-night," said he to himself, "I will enter Kama's dwelling; as to her adorers--let them sing at her windows." He passed through the city quickly; but in the gardens of the temple he lessened his steps, for again he was shamefaced. "Has it ever been heard," thought he, "that the heir of a pharaoh ran after women like a poor scribe who cannot borrow ten drachmas anywhere? All women come to me, so should this one." And he was ready then to turn back to his palace. "But she cannot come," said he to himself, "for they would kill her." He stopped and hesitated.