"Art Thou mad?" but quieting himself quickly, he added, "Dost Thou not know that my son cannot be a Jew"
"But I tell thee that he is a Jew!" cried Kama, beating the table with her fist. "He is a Jew, just as his grandfather is, just as his uncles are; and his name is Isaac."
"What hast Thou said, Phoenician woman? Dost wish that I should turn thee out?"
"Turn me out if a lie has gone from my lips. But if I have spoken truth, turn out that woman with her brat and give me her palace. I wish and deserve to be first in thy household. She deceives thee, reviles thee. But, I for thy sake, have deserted my goddess and exposed myself to her vengeance."
"Give me proofs and the palace will be thine. No, that is false!" said
Ramses. "Sarah would not permit such a crime. My first-born son!"
"Isaac Isaac!" cried Kama. "Go to her, and convince thyself."
Ramses, half unconscious, ran out from Kama's house and turned toward Sarah's villa. Though the night was starry, he lost his way and wandered a certain time through the garden. The cool air sobered him; he found the road to the villa and entered almost calmly.
Though the hour was late, they were awake there. Sarah with her own hands was washing swaddling-clothes for her son, and the servants were passing their time in eating, drinking, and music. When Ramses, pale from emotion, stood on the threshold, Sarah cried out, but soon calmed herself.
"Be greeted, lord," said she, wiping her wet hands and bending to his feet.
"Sarah, what is the name of thy son?" inquired he.