They parted like two friends who were hunting a wild beast, and knew that the problem was not that their spear should strike, but that the beast should drop in its tracks and not go into other hands.
After some days Ramses visited Kama again, but found her in a state touching on insanity. She hid herself in the darkest room of the villa; she was hungry, her hair was not dressed, she was even unwashed. She gave the most contradictory commands to her servants; at one time she ordered all to come to her, at another she sent all away. In the night she summoned the guard of warriors, and fled to the highest chamber soon after, crying out that they wished to kill her.
In view of these actions all desire vanished from the prince's soul, and there remained simply a feeling of great trouble. He seized his head when the steward of the palace and the officer told him of these wonders, and he whispered:
"Indeed, I did badly in taking that woman from her goddess; for the goddess alone could endure her caprices with patience."
He went, however, to Kama, and found her emaciated, broken, and trembling.
"Woe to me!" cried she. "There are none around me but enemies. My tirewoman wishes to poison me; my hairdresser to give me some dreadful disease. The warriors are waiting an opportunity to bury swords and spears in my bosom; I am sure that instead of food, they prepare for me magic herbs in the kitchen. All are rising up to destroy me."
"Kama!" interrupted the prince.
"Call me not by that name!" whispered she; "it will bring me misfortune."
"But how do these ideas come to thee?"
"How? Dost Thou think that in the daytime I do not see strange people who appear at the palace and vanish before I can call in my servants? And in the night do I not hear people outside the wall whispering?"