"I understand!" exclaimed Kama. "I shall go to the servants' house, perhaps even to prison, while thou wilt spend nights with thy Jewess. Because I have left the gods for thee I have drawn down a curse on my own head. Because I left them I know no rest for a moment; I have lost my youth for thee, my life, my soul even, and this is the pay which thou givest me." The prince confessed in his heart that Kama had sacrificed much for him, and he felt compunction. "I have not been and shall not be with Sarah," said he. "But does it harm thee that the ill-fated woman has some comfort and can nourish her child unmolested?" Kama trembled. She raised her clinched fist, her hair stirred, and in her eyes an ugly fire of hate was flashing. "Is this the answer which thou givest me? The Jewess is unhappy because thou didst drive her from the villa, and I must be satisfied, though the gods have driven me out of their temples. But my soul--the soul of a priestess who is drowning in tears and in terror--does not mean more for thee than that brat of the Jew woman--this child, which, would he were dead--may he--" "Silence!" cried the prince, shutting her mouth. She drew back frightened. "Then may I not even complain of my wretchedness?" inquired she. "But if thou art so careful of that child, why steal me from the temple, why promise that I should be first in thy household? Have a care," continued she, raising her voice again, "that Egypt, after learning my fate, may not call thee a faith-breaker." The prince turned his head and laughed. But he sat down, and said,-- "My teacher was right, indeed, when he warned me against women: Ye are like ripe peaches in the eyes of a man whose tongue thirst has parched, but peaches ripe only in appearance. Woe to the fool who dares bite that fruit of fair seeming; instead of cooling sweetness he will find a nest of wasps that will sting not his lips alone, but his heart also." "Wilt thou complain? Wilt thou not spare me even this shame after I have sacrificed to thee both my dignity of priestess and my virtue?" The heir shook his head and smiled. "Never could I have thought," said he, after a while, "that the story told by laborers before bedtime could have come true. But to-day I see the truth of it. Listen to me, Kama; perhaps thou wilt stop, and not force me to withdraw the good-will which I have for thee." "He wishes now to tell a fable!" said the priestess, bitterly. "Thou hast told me one already, and I was profited by hearing it." "This will profit thee if thou understand it." "Will there be anything about Jewish brats in it?" "Of priestesses there will be; only listen carefully. "The following thing happened here long ago, in Pi-Bast:[17] [17] A true story. "Once Prince Satni, on the square before the temple of Ptah, saw a very beautiful woman. She surpassed all whom he had met before, and, what was more noteworthy, she had much gold on her person.