This enraged the Egyptian aristocracy.
"Is it possible?" whispered magnates who were in debt. "Does the dynasty not trust us? Have the priests undertaken to disgrace and ruin Egypt? For it is clear that if Assyria has a war in the distant north somewhere, now is just the time to attack her and fill the reduced treasury of the pharaoh and the aristocracy with plunder."
One and another of the young lords made bold to ask the prince what he thought of Assyrians. Ramses was silent, but the gleam in his eyes and his fixed lips expressed his feelings sufficiently.
"It is clear," whispered the lords, later on, "that this dynasty is bound by the priesthood. It yields not its confidence to nobles; great misfortunes are threatening Egypt."
Silent anger was soon turned into secret councils, which had even the semblance of conspiracy. Though many persons took part in this action, the priests were self-confident, or knew nothing of this in their blindness; and Sargon, though he felt the existing hatred, did not attach to it importance. He learned that Prince Ramses disliked him, but that he attributed to the event in the arena, and to his jealousy in the affair of the priestess. Confident, however, in his position as ambassador, he drank, feasted, and slipped away almost every evening to Kama, who received with increasing favor his courting and his presents.
Such was the condition of mind in the higher circles, when on a certain night the holy Mentezufis rushed to the prince's dwelling, and declared that he must see the viceroy immediately.
The courtiers answered that one of his women was visiting their lord, and that they would not disturb him. But when Mentezufis insisted with increasing emphasis, they called out Ramses.
The prince appeared after a time, and was not even angry.
"What is this?" asked he of the priest. "Are we at war, that Thou takest the trouble to visit me at an hour like the present?"
Mentezufis looked diligently at the prince, and sighed deeply.