"O Baal of Sidon, O Astoreth!" said he, "avenge my insult on this cursed daughter of a Jew. Let her treacherous beauty perish as a drop of rain in the desert! May disease devour her body, and madness bind her soul! May her lord hunt her out of his house like a mangy swine! And as to-day she pushed my goblet aside, may the hour come when people will push her withered hand aside, when in thirst she begs them for a cup of dirty water." Then he spat and muttered words with hidden and dreadful meaning; a black cloud covered the sun for a while, and the water near the side of the boat began to grow muddy and rise in a mighty wave. When he finished, the sun had grown bright again; but the river was disturbed, as if a new inundation were moving it. Dagon's rowers were frightened, and ceased their singing; but separated from their master by the side of the boat, they could not see his ceremonies. Thenceforth the Phœnician did not appear before Prince Rameses. But on a certain day when the prince came to his residence, he found in his bedchamber a beautiful Phœnician dancer, sixteen years of age, whose entire dress was a golden circlet on her head, and a shawl, as delicate as spider webs, thrown across her shoulders. "Who art thou?" asked the prince. "I am a priestess, and thy servant; the lord Dagon has sent me to frighten away thy anger against him." "How wilt thou do that?" "Oh, in this way--sit down there," said she, seating him in an armchair. "I will stand on tiptoe, so as to grow taller than thy anger, and with this shawl, which is sacred, I will drive evil spirits from thee. A kish! a kish!" whispered she, dancing in a circle. "Rameses, let my hands remove gloom from thy hair, let my kisses bring back to thy eyes their bright glances. Let the beating of my heart fill thy ears with music, lord of Egypt.--A kish! a kish! he is not yours, but mine.--Love demands such silence that in its presence even anger must grow still." While dancing, she played with the prince's hair, put her arms around his neck, kissed him on the eyes. At last she sat down wearied at his feet, and, resting her head on his knees, turned her face toward him quickly, panting with parted lips. "Thou art no longer angry with thy servant Dagon?" whispered she, stroking his face. Rameses wished to kiss her on the lips, but she sprang away from his knees, crying,-- "Oh, that is not possible!" "Why so?" "I am a virgin and priestess of the great goddess Astoreth. Thou wouldst have to love my guardian goddess greatly, and honor her before thou couldst kiss me." "But is it permitted thee?" "All things are permitted me, for I am a priestess, and have sworn to preserve my virginity." "Why hast thou come hither, then?" "To drive out thy anger. I have done so, I depart. Be well and kind always," added she, with a piercing glance. "Where dost thou dwell? What is thy name?" asked Rameses.