The eve before her marriage it was proper for Amneris to go to the Temple of Isis to pray. She went accompanied by Ramphis, the High Priest, who promised to remain near till morning, that she might feel safe, and not be lonely. She knew well that Radames's heart was then Aïda's, and her prayers were to be appeals for his love. The Temple was built upon a high rock, surrounded by beautiful palms, and the moon, which shone brightly upon it, silvered all the landscape. As Amneris entered the Temple, the chorus of priests and priestesses swelled forth and added to the weirdness of the scene.
Amneris had no sooner disappeared within than Aïda approached the place. It was the last night of Radames's freedom, and he and she had arranged to meet near the Temple to speak together, perhaps for the last time of their lives. As she entered the grove she looked sadly about her.
"My griefs and misfortunes are now greater than I can bear," she murmured. "After to-night, all will be over. It is better to drown myself in the Nile than to live alone, without father, mother, country, or friends." Thinking of her lost country, she leaned against the rock and half forgot why she had come. She recalled the warmth and beauty of her childhood's home, and then by contrast her term of slavery in Egypt. While she waited, thinking of these sad things, she saw a man's form coming toward her, through the night; it was not Radames. As he drew nearer she recognized her father, Amonasro.
"Father, what brings thee here?" she whispered.
"A grave cause, my child. Naught escapes my eye. I know thy heart. I know that Radames loves thee and that thou art here to meet him;—also that thou art in the grasp of this Princess, who hates thee."
"Alas, there is no hope," she cried, despairingly.
"That shall be as you may decide, daughter. Our people are waiting for a signal to strike a blow at these Egyptians. Our backbone is not yet broken. All that is needful for our success is to know by what road our enemies will march in their next sortie upon us. That is for thee to find out for us. Radames alone knows—and Radames loves thee," he finished significantly.
"But since he loves me, how can I betray him, father?" she asked.
"Choose—between thy father and the man who is to marry Amneris.—Or—" with a new thought he hesitated a moment—"or why should Radames not leave these cold people for a fairer place and kinder? Why should he not become one of us?" Aïda stared at her father in amazement.
"Betray his people?"