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 today 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 Phoenician did not appear before Prince Ramses. But on
a certain day when the prince came to his residence, he found in his
bedchamber a beautiful Phoenician 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 auger 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. "Ramses, 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.

Ramses 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 gua