"I see that Thou lovest Mother Isis," said the priestess, aloud. "Thou must be wealthy and art bountiful, so it is worth while to soothsay for thee."
She sat down near him, ate a couple of dates, and looking at his hand began,
"Thou art from a distant region, from Bretor and Hagit. [The spirits of the northern and eastern parts of the world.]Thou hast had a pleasant journey. For some days the Phoenicians are watching thee," added she, in a lower voice.
"Thou hast come for money, though Thou art not a merchant. Visit me this day after sunset. Thy wishes will be accomplished," said she, aloud. "They should be accomplished. I live on the Street of Tombs in the house of the Green Star," whispered she. "But beware of thieves who are watching for thy property," finished she, seeing that the worthy Asarhadon was listening.
"There are no thieves in my house!" burst out the Phoenician. "None steal except those who come from the street."
"Be not angry, old man," replied the priestess, jeeringly, "or a red line will come out oil thy neck right away; that means an unlucky death."
When he heard this, Asarhadon spat three times, and in a low voice repeated a charm against evil predictions. When he had moved away to the depth of the gallery, the priestess began to coquet with the Harran man. She gave him a rose from her crown, embraced him at parting, and went to the other tables.
The traveler beckoned to the host.
"I wish," said he, "that woman to come to me. Give command to conduct her to my chamber."
Asarhadon looked into his eyes, clapped his hands, and burst out laughing.