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diff --git a/3820-h/3820-h.htm b/3820-h/3820-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..f0c015b --- /dev/null +++ b/3820-h/3820-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,8461 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html + PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" xml:lang="en" lang="en"> +<head> +<meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=US-ASCII" /> +<title>Nathan the Wise, by Gotthold Ephraim Lessing</title> + <style type="text/css"> +/*<![CDATA[ XML blockout */m +<!-- + P { margin-top: .75em; + margin-bottom: .75em; + } + P.gutsumm { margin-left: 5%;} + P.poetry {margin-left: 3%; } + .GutSmall { font-size: 0.7em; } + H1, H2 { + text-align: center; + margin-top: 2em; + margin-bottom: 2em; + } + H3, H4, H5 { + text-align: center; + margin-top: 1em; + margin-bottom: 1em; + } + BODY{margin-left: 10%; + margin-right: 10%; + } + table { border-collapse: collapse; } +table {margin-left:auto; margin-right:auto;} + td { vertical-align: top; border: 1px solid black;} + td p { margin: 0.2em; } + .blkquot {margin-left: 4em; margin-right: 4em;} /* block indent */ + + .smcap {font-variant: small-caps;} + + .pagenum {position: absolute; + left: 92%; + font-size: small; + text-align: right; + font-weight: normal; + color: gray; + } + img { border: none; } + img.dc { float: left; width: 50px; height: 50px; } + p.gutindent { margin-left: 2em; } + div.gapspace { height: 0.8em; } + div.gapline { height: 0.8em; width: 100%; border-top: 1px solid;} + div.gapmediumline { height: 0.3em; width: 40%; margin-left:30%; + border-top: 1px solid; } + div.gapmediumdoubleline { height: 0.3em; width: 40%; margin-left:30%; + border-top: 1px solid; border-bottom: 1px solid;} + div.gapshortdoubleline { height: 0.3em; width: 20%; + margin-left: 40%; border-top: 1px solid; + border-bottom: 1px solid; } + div.gapdoubleline { height: 0.3em; width: 50%; + margin-left: 25%; border-top: 1px solid; + border-bottom: 1px solid;} + div.gapshortline { height: 0.3em; width: 20%; margin-left:40%; + border-top: 1px solid; } + .citation {vertical-align: super; + font-size: .8em; + text-decoration: none;} + img.floatleft { float: left; + margin-right: 1em; + margin-top: 0.5em; margin-bottom: 0.5em; } + img.floatright { float: right; + margin-left: 1em; margin-top: 0.5em; + margin-bottom: 0.5em; } + img.clearcenter {display: block; + margin-left: auto; + margin-right: auto; margin-top: 0.5em; + margin-bottom: 0.5em} + --> + /* XML end ]]>*/ + </style> +</head> +<body> +<pre> + +The Project Gutenberg eBook, Nathan the Wise, by Gotthold Ephraim Lessing, +Edited by Henry Morley, Translated by William Taylor + + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + + + + +Title: Nathan the Wise + + +Author: Gotthold Ephraim Lessing + +Editor: Henry Morley + +Release Date: August 10, 2014 [eBook #3820] +[This file was first posted on September 25, 2001] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-646-US (US-ASCII) + + +***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK NATHAN THE WISE*** +</pre> +<p>Transcribed from the 1893 Cassell & Company edition by +David Price, email ccx074@pglaf.org</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">CASSELL’S NATIONAL LIBRARY</span></p> + +<div class="gapshortline"> </div> +<h1>NATHAN THE WISE<br /> +<i>A Dramatic Poem in Five Acts</i></h1> +<p style="text-align: center"><i>Translated by William Taylor of +Norwich</i></p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span class="GutSmall">FROM THE +GERMAN OF</span></p> +<p style="text-align: center">LESSING</p> +<p style="text-align: center"> +<a href="images/tpb.jpg"> +<img alt= +"Decorative graphic" +title= +"Decorative graphic" +src="images/tps.jpg" /> +</a></p> +<p style="text-align: center">CASSELL & COMPANY <span +class="smcap">Limited</span><br /> +<span class="GutSmall"><i>LONDON PARIS & +MELBOURNE</i></span><br /> +1893</p> +<h3>INTRODUCTION</h3> +<p><span class="smcap">Gotthold Ephraim Lessing</span> was born +on the 22nd of January, 1729, eldest of ten sons of a pious and +learned minister of Camenz in the Oberlausitz, who had two +daughters also. As a child Lessing delighted in books, and +had knowledge beyond his years when he went to school, in +Meissen, at the age of twelve. As a school-boy he read much +Greek and Latin that formed no part of the school course; read +also the German poets of his time, wrote a “History of +Ancient Mathematics,” and began a poem of his own on the +“Plurality of Worlds.”</p> +<p>In 1746, at the age of seventeen, Lessing was sent to the +University of Leipsic. There he studied with energy, and +was attracted strongly by the theatre. His artistic +interest in the drama caused him to be put on the free list of +the theatre, in exchange for some translations of French +pieces. Then he produced, also for the Leipsic stage, many +slight pieces of his own, and he had serious thought of turning +actor, which excited alarm in the parsonage at Camenz and caused +his recall home in January, 1747. It was found, however, +that although he could not be trained to follow his +father’s profession, he had been studying to such good +purpose, and developing, in purity of life, such worth of +character, that after Easter he was sent back to Leipsic, with +leave to transfer his studies from theology to medicine.</p> +<p>Lessing went back, continued to work hard, but still also gave +all his leisure to the players. For the debts of some of +them he had incautiously become surety, and when the company +removed to Vienna, there were left behind them unpaid debts for +which young Lessing was answerable. The creditors pressed, +and Lessing moved to Wittenberg; but he fell ill, and was made so +miserable by pressure for impossible payments, that he resolved +to break off his studies, go to Berlin, and begin earning by his +pen, his first earnings being for the satisfaction of these +Leipsic creditors. Lessing went first to Berlin to seek his +fortune in December, 1748, when he was nineteen years old. +He was without money, without decent clothes, and with but one +friend in Berlin, Mylius, who was then editing a small journal, +the <i>Rudigersche Zeitung</i>. Much correspondence brought +him a little money from the overburdened home, and with addition +of some small earning from translations, this enabled him to +obtain a suit of clothes, in which he might venture to present +himself to strangers in his search for fortune. A new +venture with Mylius, a quarterly record of the history of the +theatre, was not successful; but having charge committed to him +of the library part of Mylius’s journal, Lessing had an +opportunity of showing his great critical power. Gottsched, +at Leipsic, was then leader of the war on behalf of classicism in +German literature. Lessing fought on the National side, and +opposed also the beginning of a new French influence then rising, +which was to have its chief apostle in Rousseau.</p> +<p>In 1752 Lessing went back to Wittenberg for another year, that +he might complete the work for graduation; graduated in December +of that year as Master of Arts, and then returned to his work in +Berlin. He worked industriously, not only as critic, but +also in translation from the classics, from French, English, and +Italian; and he was soon able to send help towards providing +education for the youngest of the household of twelve children in +the Camenz parsonage. In 1753 he gave himself eight weeks +of withdrawal from other work to write, in a garden-house at +Potsdam, his tragedy of “Miss Sarah Sampson.” +It was produced with great success at Frankfort on the Oder, and +Lessing’s ruling passion for dramatic literature became the +stronger for this first experience of what he might be able to +achieve. In literature, Frederick the Great cared only for +what was French. A National drama, therefore, could not +live in Berlin. In the autumn of 1755, Lessing suddenly +moved to Leipsic, where an actor whom he had befriended was +establishing a theatre. Here he was again abandoning +himself to the cause of a National drama, when a rich young +gentleman of Leipsic invited his companionship upon a tour in +Europe. Terms were settled, and they set out +together. They saw much of Holland, and were passing into +England, when King Frederick’s attack on Saxony recalled +the young Leipsiger, and caused breach of what had been a +contract for a three years’ travelling companionship. +In May, 1758, Lessing, aged twenty-nine, returned to his old work +in Berlin. Again he translated, edited, criticised. +He wrote a tragedy, “Philotas,” and began a +“Faust.” He especially employed his critical +power in “Letters upon the Latest Literature,” known +as his <i>Literatur briefe</i>. Dissertations upon fable, +led also to Lessing’s “Fables,” produced in +this period of his life.</p> +<p>In 1760 Lessing was tempted by scarcity of income to serve as +a Government secretary at Breslau. He held that office for +five years, and then again returned to his old work in +Berlin. During the five years in Breslau, Lessing had +completed his play of “Minna von Barnhelm,” and the +greatest of his critical works, “Laocoon,” a treatise +on the “Boundary Lines of Painting and Poetry.” +All that he might then have saved from his earnings went to the +buying of books and to the relief of the burdens in the Camenz +parsonage. At Berlin the office of Royal Librarian became +vacant. The claims of Lessing were urged, but Frederick +appointed an insignificant Frenchman. In 1767 Lessing was +called to aid an unsuccessful attempt to establish a National +Theatre in Hamburg.</p> +<p>Other troubles followed. Lessing gave his heart to a +widow, Eva König, and was betrothed to her. But the +involvements of her worldly affairs, and of his, delayed the +marriage for six years. To secure fixed income he took a +poor office as Librarian at Wolfenbüttel. In his first +year at Wolfenbüttel, he wrote his play of “Emilia +Galotti.” Then came a long-desired journey to Italy; +but it came in inconvenient form, for it had to be made with +Prince Leopold, of Brunswick, hurriedly, for the sake of money, +at the time when Lessing was at last able to marry.</p> +<p>The wife, long waited for, and deeply loved, died at the birth +of her first child. This was in January, 1778, when +Lessing’s age was 49. Very soon afterwards he was +attacked by a Pastor Goeze, in Hamburg, and other narrow +theologians, for having edited papers that contained an attack on +Christianity, which Lessing himself had said that he wished to +see answered before he died. The uncharitable bitterness of +these attacks, felt by a mind that had been touched to the quick +by the deepest of sorrows, helped to the shaping of +Lessing’s calm, beautiful lesson of charity, this noblest +of his plays—“Nathan the Wise.” But +Lessing’s health was shattered, and he survived his wife +only three years. He died in 1781, leaving imperishable +influence for good upon the minds of men, but so poor in what the +world calls wealth, that his funeral had to be paid for by a Duke +of Brunswick.</p> +<p>William Taylor, the translator of Lessing’s +“Nathan the Wise;” was born in 1765, the son of a +rich merchant at Norwich, from whose business he was drawn away +by his strong bent towards literature. His father yielded +to his wishes, after long visits to France and to Germany, in +days astir with the new movements of thought, that preceded and +followed the French Revolution. He formed a close +friendship with Southey, edited for a little time a +“Norwich Iris,” and in his later years became known +especially for his Historic Survey of German Poetry, which +included his translations, and among them this of “Nathan +the Wise.” It was published in 1830, Taylor died in +1836. Thomas Carlyle, in reviewing William Taylor’s +Survey of German Poetry, said of the author’s own +translations in it “compared with the average of British +translations, they may be pronounced of almost ideal excellence; +compared with the best translations extant, for example, the +German Shakespeare, Homer, Calderon, they may still be called +better than indifferent. One great merit Mr. Taylor has: +rigorous adherence to his original; he endeavours at least to +copy with all possible fidelity the term of praise, the tone, the +very metre, whatever stands written for him.”</p> +<p style="text-align: right">H. M.</p> +<h2><span class="smcap">Nathan the Wise</span>.</h2> +<blockquote><p>“Introite nam et heic Dii +sunt!”—<span class="smcap">Apud Gellium</span>.</p> +</blockquote> +<h3>DRAMATIS PERSONÆ.</h3> +<p><span class="smcap">Saladin</span>, <i>the Sultan</i>.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Sittah</span>, <i>his Sister</i>.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Nathan</span>, <i>a rich Jew</i>.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Recha</span>, <i>his adopted +Daughter</i>.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Daya</span>, <i>a Christian Woman dwelling +with the Jew a companion to Recha</i>.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Conrade</span>, <i>a young +Templar</i>.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Hafi</span>, <i>a Dervis</i>.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Athanasios</span>, <i>the Patriarch of +Palestine</i>.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Bonafides</span>, <i>a Friar</i>.</p> +<p><i>An Emir</i>, <i>sundry Mamalukes</i>, <i>Slaves</i>, +<i>&c.</i></p> +<p style="text-align: center"><i>The Scene is at +Jerusalem</i>.</p> +<h3>ACT I.</h3> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="smcap">Scene</span>.—A Hall in Nathan’s +House.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span class="smcap">Nathan</span>, +<i>in a travelling dress</i>, <span class="smcap">Daya</span> +<i>meeting him</i>.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">DAYA.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">’Tis he, ’tis Nathan! Thanks +to the Almighty,<br /> +That you’re at last returned.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">NATHAN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> Yes, Daya, thanks,<br /> +That I have reached Jerusalem in safety.<br /> +But wherefore this <i>at last</i>? Did I intend,<br /> +Or was it possible to come back sooner?<br /> +As I was forced to travel, out and in,<br /> +’Tis a long hundred leagues to Babylon;<br /> +And to get in one’s debts is no employment,<br /> +That speeds a traveller.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">DAYA.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> O Nathan, Nathan,<br /> +How miserable you had nigh become<br /> +During this little absence; for your house—</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">NATHAN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">Well, ’twas on fire; I have already heard +it.<br /> +God grant I may have heard the whole, that chanced!</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">DAYA.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">’Twas on the point of burning to the +ground.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">NATHAN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">Then we’d have built another, and a +better.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">DAYA.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">True!—But thy Recha too was on the +point<br /> +Of perishing amid the flames.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">NATHAN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> Of perishing?<br /> +My Recha, saidst thou? She? I heard not that.<br /> +I then should not have needed any house.<br /> +Upon the point of perishing—perchance<br /> +She’s gone?—Speak out then—out—torment me +not<br /> +With this suspense.—Come, tell me, tell me all.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">DAYA.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">Were she no more, from me you would not hear +it.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">NATHAN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">Why then alarm me?—Recha, O my Recha!</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">DAYA.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">Your Recha? Yours?</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">NATHAN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> What if I ever were<br /> +Doomed to unlearn to call this child, <i>my</i> child,</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">DAYA.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">Is all you own yours by an equal title?</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">NATHAN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">Nought by a better. What I else enjoy<br +/> +Nature and Fortune gave—this treasure, Virtue.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">DAYA.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">How dear you make me pay for all your +goodness!—<br /> +If goodness, exercised with such a view,<br /> +Deserves the name.—</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">NATHAN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">With such a view? With what?</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">DAYA.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">My conscience—</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">NATHAN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">Daya, let me tell you first—</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">DAYA.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">I say, my conscience—</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">NATHAN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> What a charming silk<br /> +I bought for you in Babylon! ’Tis rich,<br /> +Yet elegantly rich. I almost doubt<br /> +If I have brought a prettier for Recha.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">DAYA.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">And what of that—I tell you that my +conscience<br /> +Will no be longer hushed.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">NATHAN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> And I have bracelets,<br /> +And earrings, and a necklace, which will charm you.<br /> +I chose them at Damascus.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">DAYA.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> That’s your +way:—<br /> +If you can but make presents—but make presents.—</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">NATHAN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">Take you as freely as I give—and +cease.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">DAYA.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">And cease?—Who questions, Nathan, but +that you are<br /> +Honour and generosity in person;—<br /> +Yet—</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">NATHAN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> Yet I’m but a +Jew.—That was your meaning.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">DAYA.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">You better know what was my meaning, +Nathan.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">NATHAN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">Well, well, no more of this,</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">DAYA.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> I shall be silent;<br /> +But what of sinful in the eye of heaven<br /> +Springs out of it—not I, not I could help;<br /> +It falls upon thy head.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">NATHAN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> So let it, Daya.<br /> +Where is she then? What stays her? Surely, surely,<br +/> +You’re not amusing me—And does she know<br /> +That I’m arrived?</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">DAYA.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> That you yourself must speak +to,<br /> +Terror still vibrates in her every nerve.<br /> +Her fancy mingles fire with all she thinks of.<br /> +Asleep, her soul seems busy; but awake,<br /> +Absent: now less than brute, now more than angel.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">NATHAN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">Poor thing! What are we +mortals—</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">DAYA.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> As she lay<br /> +This morning sleeping, all at once she started<br /> +And cried: “list, list! there come my father’s +camels!”<br /> +And then she drooped again upon her pillow<br /> +And I withdrew—when, lo! you really came.<br /> +Her thoughts have only been with you—and him.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">NATHAN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">And <i>him</i>? What him?</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">DAYA.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> With him, who from the +fire<br /> +Preserved her life,</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">NATHAN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> Who was it? Where is +he,<br /> +That saved my Recha for me?</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">DAYA.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> A young templar,<br /> +Brought hither captive a few days ago,<br /> +And pardoned by the Sultan.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">NATHAN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> How, a <i>templar</i><br /> +Dismissed with life by Saladin. In truth,<br /> +Not a less miracle was to preserve her,<br /> +God!—God!—</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">DAYA.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> Without this man, who risked +afresh<br /> +The Sultan’s unexpected boon, we’d lost her.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">NATHAN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">Where is he, Daya, where’s this noble +youth?<br /> +Do, lead me to his feet. Sure, sure you gave him<br /> +What treasures I had left you—gave him all,<br /> +Promised him more—much more?</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">DAYA.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> How could we?</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">NATHAN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> Not?</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">DAYA.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">He came, he went, we know not whence, or +whither.<br /> +Quite unacquainted with the house, unguided<br /> +But by his ear, he prest through smoke and flame,<br /> +His mantle spread before him, to the room<br /> +Whence pierced the shrieks for help; and we began<br /> +To think him lost—and her; when, all at once,<br /> +Bursting from flame and smoke, he stood before us,<br /> +She in his arm upheld. Cold and unmoved<br /> +By our loud warmth of thanks, he left his booty,<br /> +Struggled into the crowd, and disappeared.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">NATHAN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">But not for ever, Daya, I would hope.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">DAYA.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">For some days after, underneath you palms,<br +/> +That shade his grave who rose again from death,<br /> +We saw him wandering up and down. I went,<br /> +With transport went to thank him. I conjured,<br /> +Intreated him to visit once again<br /> +The dear sweet girl he saved, who longed to shed<br /> +At her preserver’s feet the grateful tear—</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">NATHAN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">Well?</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">DAYA.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> But in vain. Deaf to +our warmest prayers,<br /> +On me he flung such bitter mockery—</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">NATHAN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">That hence rebuffed—</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">DAYA.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> Oh, no, oh, no, indeed +not,<br /> +Daily I forced myself upon him, daily<br /> +Afresh encountered his dry taunting speeches.<br /> +Much I have borne, and would have borne much more:<br /> +But he of late forbears his lonely walk<br /> +Under the scattered palms, which stand about<br /> +Our holy sepulchre: nor have I learnt<br /> +Where he now is. You seem +astonished—thoughtful—</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">NATHAN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">I was imagining what strange impressions<br /> +This conduct makes on such a mind as Recha’s.<br /> +Disdained by one whom she must feel compelled<br /> +To venerate and to esteem so highly.<br /> +At once attracted and repelled—the combat<br /> +Between her head and heart must yet endure,<br /> +Regret, Resentment, in unusual struggle.<br /> +Neither, perhaps, obtains the upper hand,<br /> +And busy fancy, meddling in the fray,<br /> +Weaves wild enthusiasms to her dazzled spirit,<br /> +Now clothing Passion in the garb of Reason,<br /> +And Reason now in Passion’s—do I err?<br /> +This last is Recha’s fate—Romantic notions—</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">DAYA.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">Aye; but such pious, lovely, sweet, +illusions.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">NATHAN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">Illusions though.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">DAYA.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> Yes: and the one, her +bosom<br /> +Clings to most fondly, is, that the brave templar<br /> +Was but a transient inmate of the earth,<br /> +A guardian angel, such as from her childhood<br /> +She loved to fancy kindly hovering round her,<br /> +Who from his veiling cloud amid the fire<br /> +Stepped forth in her preserver’s form. You +smile—<br /> +Who knows? At least beware of banishing<br /> +So pleasing an illusion—if deceitful<br /> +Christian, Jew, Mussulman, agree to own it,<br /> +And ’tis—at least to her—a dear illusion.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">NATHAN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">Also to me. Go, my good Daya, go,<br /> +See what she’s after. Can’t I speak with +her?<br /> +Then I’ll find out our untamed guardian angel,<br /> +Bring him to sojourn here awhile among us—<br /> +We’ll pinion his wild wing, when once he’s taken.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">DAYA.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">You undertake too much.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">NATHAN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> And when, my Daya,<br /> +This sweet illusion yields to sweeter truth,<br /> +(For to a man a man is ever dearer<br /> +Than any angel) you must not be angry<br /> +To see our loved enthusiast exercised.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">DAYA.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">You are so good—and yet so sly. +I’ll seek her,<br /> +But listen,—yes! she’s coming of herself.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span class="smcap">Nathan</span>, +<span class="smcap">Daya</span>, <i>and</i> <span +class="smcap">Recha</span>.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">RECHA.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">And you are here, your very self, my father,<br +/> +I thought you’d only sent your voice before you.<br /> +Where are you then? What mountains, deserts, torrents,<br +/> +Divide us now? You see me, face to face,<br /> +And do not hasten to embrace your Recha.<br /> +Poor Recha! she was almost burnt alive,<br /> +But only—only—almost. Do not shudder!<br /> +O ’tis a horrid end to die in fire!</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">NATHAN</span> (<i>embracing her</i>).</p> +<p class="poetry">My child, my darling child!</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">RECHA.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> You had to cross<br /> +The Jordan, Tigris, and Euphrates, and<br /> +Who knows what rivers else. I used to tremble<br /> +And quake for you, till the fire came so nigh me;<br /> +Since then, methinks ’twere comfort, balm, refreshment,<br +/> +To die by water. But you are not drowned—<br /> +I am not burnt alive.—We will rejoice—<br /> +We will praise God—the kind good God, who bore thee,<br /> +Upon the buoyant wings of <i>unseen</i> angels,<br /> +Across the treacherous stream—the God who bade<br /> +My angel <i>visibly</i> on his white wing<br /> +Athwart the roaring flame—</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">NATHAN</span> (<i>aside</i>).</p> +<p class="poetry"> White wing?—oh, aye<br +/> +The broad white fluttering mantle of the templar.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">RECHA.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">Yes, visibly he bore me through the fire,<br /> +O’ershadowed by his pinions.—Face to face<br /> +I’ve seen an angel, father, my own angel.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">NATHAN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">Recha deserves it, and would see in him<br /> +No fairer form than he beheld in her,</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">RECHA.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">Whom are you flattering, father—tell me +now—<br /> +The angel, or yourself?</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">NATHAN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> Yet had a man,<br /> +A man of those whom Nature daily fashions,<br /> +Done you this service, he to you had seemed,<br /> +Had been an angel.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">RECHA.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> No, not such a one.<br /> +Indeed it was a true and real angel.<br /> +And have not you yourself instructed me<br /> +How possible it is there may be angels;<br /> +That God for those who love him can work miracles—<br /> +And I do love him, father—</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">NATHAN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> And he thee;<br /> +And both for thee, and all like thee, my child,<br /> +Works daily wonders, from eternity<br /> +Has wrought them for you.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">RECHA.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> That I like to hear.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">NATHAN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">Well, and although it sounds quite natural,<br +/> +An every day event, a simple story,<br /> +That you was by a real templar saved,<br /> +Is it the less a miracle? The greatest<br /> +Of all is this, that true and real wonders<br /> +Should happen so perpetually, so daily.<br /> +Without this universal miracle<br /> +A thinking man had scarcely called those such,<br /> +Which only children, Recha, ought to name so,<br /> +Who love to gape and stare at the unusual<br /> +And hunt for novelty—</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">DAYA.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> Why will you then<br /> +With such vain subtleties, confuse her brain<br /> +Already overheated?</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">NATHAN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> Let me manage.—<br /> +And is it not enough then for my Recha<br /> +To owe her preservation to a man,<br /> +Whom no small miracle preserved himself.<br /> +For whoe’er heard before that Saladin<br /> +Let go a templar; that a templar wished it,<br /> +Hoped it, or for his ransom offered more<br /> +Than taunts, his leathern sword-belt, or his dagger?</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">RECHA.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">That makes for me; these are so many reasons<br +/> +He was no real knight, but only seemed it.<br /> +If in Jerusalem no captive templar,<br /> +Appears alive, or freely wanders round,<br /> +How could I find one, in the night, to save me?</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">NATHAN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">Ingenious! dextrous! Daya, come in +aid.<br /> +It was from you I learnt he was a prisoner;<br /> +Doubtless you know still more about him, speak.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">DAYA.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">’Tis but report indeed, but it is said<br +/> +That Saladin bestowed upon this youth<br /> +His gracious pardon for the strong resemblance<br /> +He bore a favourite brother—dead, I think<br /> +These twenty years—his name, I know it not—<br /> +He fell, I don’t know where—and all the story<br /> +Sounds so incredible, that very likely<br /> +The whole is mere invention, talk, romance.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">NATHAN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">And why incredible? Would you reject<br +/> +This story, tho’ indeed, it’s often done,<br /> +To fix on something more incredible,<br /> +And give that faith? Why should not Saladin,<br /> +Who loves so singularly all his kindred,<br /> +Have loved in early youth with warmer fondness<br /> +A brother now no more. Do we not see<br /> +Faces alike, and is an old impression<br /> +Therefore a lost one? Do resembling features<br /> +Not call up like emotions. Where’s th’ +incredible?<br /> +Surely, sage Daya, this can be to thee<br /> +No miracle, or do <i>thy</i> wonders only<br /> +Demand—I should have said <i>deserve</i> belief?</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">DAYA.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">You’re on the bite.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">NATHAN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> Were you quite fair with +me?<br /> +Yet even so, my Recha, thy escape<br /> +Remains a wonder, only possible<br /> +To Him, who of the proud pursuits of princes<br /> +Makes sport—or if not sport—at least delights<br /> +To head and manage them by slender threads.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">RECHA.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">If I do err, it is not wilfully,<br /> +My father.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">NATHAN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> No, you have been always +docile.<br /> +See now, a forehead vaulted thus, or thus—<br /> +A nose bow’d one way rather than another—<br /> +Eye-brows with straiter, or with sharper curve—<br /> +A line, a mole, a wrinkle, a mere nothing<br /> +I’ th’ countenance of an European savage—<br /> +And thou—art saved, in Asia, from the fire.<br /> +Ask ye for signs and wonders after that?<br /> +What need of calling angels into play?</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">DAYA.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">But Nathan, where’s the harm, if I may +speak,<br /> +Of fancying one’s self by an angel saved,<br /> +Rather than by a man? Methinks it brings us<br /> +Just so much the nearer the incomprehensive<br /> +First cause of preservation.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">NATHAN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> Pride, rank pride!<br /> +The iron pot would with a silver prong<br /> +Be lifted from the furnace—to imagine<br /> +Itself a silver vase. Paha! Where’s the +harm?<br /> +Thou askest. Where’s the good? I might +reply.<br /> +For thy <i>it brings us nearer to the Godhead</i><br /> +Is nonsense, Daya, if not blasphemy.<br /> +But it does harm: yes, yes, it does indeed.<br /> +Attend now. To the being, who preserved you,<br /> +Be he an angel or a man, you both,<br /> +And thou especially wouldst gladly show<br /> +Substantial services in just requital.<br /> +Now to an angel what great services<br /> +Have ye the power to do? To sing his praise—<br /> +Melt in transporting contemplation o’er him—<br /> +Fast on his holiday—and squander alms—<br /> +What nothingness of use! To me at least<br /> +It seems your neighbour gains much more than he<br /> +By all this pious glow. Not by your fasting<br /> +Is he made fat; not by your squandering, rich;<br /> +Nor by your transports is his glory exalted;<br /> +Nor by your faith his might. But to a man—</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">DAYA.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">Why yes; a man indeed had furnished us<br /> +With more occasions to be useful to him.<br /> +God knows how readily we should have seized them.<br /> +But then he would have nothing—wanted nothing—<br /> +Was in himself wrapped up, and self-sufficient,<br /> +As angels are.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">RECHA.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> And when at last he +vanished—</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">NATHAN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">Vanished? How vanished? Underneath +the palms<br /> +Escaped your view, and has returned no more.<br /> +Or have you really sought for him elsewhere?</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">DAYA.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">No, that indeed we’ve not.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">NATHAN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> Not, Daya, not?<br /> +See it does harm, hard-hearted, cold enthusiasts,<br /> +What if this angel on a bed of illness—</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">RECHA.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">Illness?</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">DAYA.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> Ill! sure he is not.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">RECHA.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> A cold shudder<br /> +Creeps over me; O Daya, feel my forehead,<br /> +It was so warm, ’tis now as chill as ice.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">NATHAN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">He is a Frank, unused to this hot climate,<br +/> +Is young, and to the labours of his calling,<br /> +To fasting, watching, quite unused—</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">RECHA.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> Ill—ill!</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">DAYA.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">Thy father only means ’twere +possible.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">NATHAN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">And there he lies, without a friend, or +money<br /> +To buy him friends—</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">RECHA.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> Alas! my father.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">NATHAN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> Lies<br /> +Without advice, attendance, converse, pity,<br /> +The prey of agony, of death—</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">RECHA.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> Where—where?</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">NATHAN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">He, who, for one he never knew, or +saw—<br /> +It is enough for him he is a man—<br /> +Plunged into fire.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">DAYA.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> O Nathan, Nathan, spare +her.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">NATHAN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">Who cared not to know aught of her he saved,<br +/> +Declined her presence to escape her thanks—</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">DAYA.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">Do, spare her!</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">NATHAN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> Did not wish to see her +more<br /> +Unless it were a second time to save her—<br /> +Enough for him he is a man—</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">DAYA.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> Stop, look!</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">NATHAN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">He—he, in death, has nothing to console +him,<br /> +But the remembrance of this deed.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">DAYA.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> You kill her!</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">NATHAN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">And you kill him—or might have done at +least—<br /> +Recha ’tis medicine I give, not poison.<br /> +He lives—come to thyself—may not be ill—<br /> +Not even ill—</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">RECHA.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> Surely not dead, not +dead.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">NATHAN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">Dead surely not—for God rewards the +good<br /> +Done here below, here too. Go; but remember<br /> +How easier far devout enthusiasm is<br /> +Than a good action; and how willingly<br /> +Our indolence takes up with pious rapture,<br /> +Tho’ at the time unconscious of its end,<br /> +Only to save the toil of useful deeds.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">RECHA.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">Oh never leave again thy child alone!—<br +/> +But can he not be only gone a journey?</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">NATHAN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">Yes, very likely. There’s a +Mussulman<br /> +Numbering with curious eye my laden camels,<br /> +Do you know who he is?</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">DAYA.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> Oh, your old dervis.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">NATHAN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">Who—who?</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">DAYA.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> Your chess companion.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">NATHAN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> That, +Al-Hafi?</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">DAYA.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">And now the treasurer of Saladin.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">NATHAN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">Al-Hafi? Are you dreaming? How was +this?<br /> +In fact it is so. He seems coming hither.<br /> +In with you quick.—What now am I to hear?</p> +<p style="text-align: center" class="poetry"><span +class="smcap">Nathan</span> <i>and</i> <span +class="smcap">Hafi</span>.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">HAFI.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">Aye, lift thine eyes in wonder.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">NATHAN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> Is it you?<br /> +A dervis so magnificent!—</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">HAFI.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> Why not?<br /> +Can nothing then be made out of a dervis?</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">NATHAN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">Yes, surely; but I have been wont to think<br +/> +A dervis, that’s to say a thorough dervis,<br /> +Will allow nothing to be made of him.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">HAFI.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">May-be ’tis true that I’m no +thorough dervis;<br /> +But by the prophet, when we must—</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">NATHAN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> Must, Hafi?<br /> +Needs must—belongs to no man: and a dervis—</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">HAFI.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">When he is much besought, and thinks it +right,<br /> +A dervis must.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">NATHAN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> Well spoken, by our God!<br +/> +Embrace me, man, you’re still, I trust, my friend.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">HAFI.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">Why not ask first what has been made of me?</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">NATHAN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">Ask climbers to look back!</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">HAFI.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> And may I not<br /> +Have grown to such a creature in the state<br /> +That my old friendship is no longer welcome?</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">NATHAN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">If you still bear your dervis-heart about +you<br /> +I’ll run the risk of that. Th’ official robe<br +/> +Is but your cloak.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">HAFI.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> A cloak, that claims some +honour.<br /> +What think’st thou? At a court of thine how great<br +/> +Had been Al-Hafi?</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">NATHAN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> Nothing but a dervis.<br /> +If more, perhaps—what shall I say—my cook.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">HAFI.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">In order to unlearn my native trade.<br /> +Thy cook—why not thy butler too? The Sultan,<br /> +He knows me better, I’m his treasurer.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">NATHAN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">You, you?</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">HAFI.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> Mistake not—of the +lesser purse—<br /> +His father manages the greater still—<br /> +The purser of his household.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">NATHAN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> That’s not small.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">HAFI.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">’Tis larger than thou think’st; for +every beggar<br /> +Is of his household.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">NATHAN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> He’s so much their +foe—</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">HAFI.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">That he’d fain root them out—with +food and raiment—<br /> +Tho’ he turn beggar in the enterprize.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">NATHAN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">Bravo, I meant so.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">HAFI.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> And he’s almost +such.<br /> +His treasury is every day, ere sun-set,<br /> +Poorer than empty; and how high so e’er<br /> +Flows in the morning tide, ’tis ebb by noon.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">NATHAN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">Because it circulates through such canals<br /> +As can be neither stopped, nor filled.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">HAFI.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> Thou hast it.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">NATHAN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">I know it well.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">HAFI.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> Nathan, ’tis woeful +doing<br /> +When kings are vultures amid caresses:<br /> +But when they’re caresses amid the vultures<br /> +’Tis ten times worse.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">NATHAN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> No, dervis, no, no, no.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">HAFI.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">Thou mayst well talk so. Now then, let me +hear<br /> +What wouldst thou give me to resign my office?</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">NATHAN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">What does it bring you in?</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">HAFI.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> To me, not much;<br /> +But thee, it might indeed enrich: for when,<br /> +As often happens, money is at ebb,<br /> +Thou couldst unlock thy sluices, make advances,<br /> +And take in form of interest all thou wilt.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">NATHAN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">And interest upon interest of the +interest—</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">HAFI.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">Certainly.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">NATHAN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> Till my capital becomes<br /> +All interest.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">HAFI.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> How—that does not take +with thee?<br /> +Then write a finis to our book of friendship;<br /> +For I have reckoned on thee.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">NATHAN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> How so, Hafi?</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">HAFI.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">That thou wouldst help me to go thro’ my +office<br /> +With credit, grant me open chest with thee—<br /> +Dost shake thy head?</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">NATHAN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> Let’s understand each +other.<br /> +Here’s a distinction to be made. To you,<br /> +To dervis Hafi, all I have is open;<br /> +But to the defterdar of Saladin,<br /> +To that Al-Hafi—</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">HAFI.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> Spoken like thyself!<br /> +Thou hast been ever no less kind than cautious.<br /> +The two Al-Hafis thou distinguishest<br /> +Shall soon be parted. See this coat of honour,<br /> +Which Saladin bestowed—before ’tis worn<br /> +To rags, and suited to a dervis’ back,—<br /> +Will in Jerusalem hang upon the hook;<br /> +While I along the Ganges scorching strand,<br /> +Amid my teachers shall be wandering barefoot.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">NATHAN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">That’s like you.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">HAFI.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> Or be playing chess among +them.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">NATHAN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">Your sovereign good.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">HAFI.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> What dost thou think seduced +me.<br /> +The wish of having not to beg in future—<br /> +The pride of acting the rich man to beggars—<br /> +Would these have metamorphosed a rich beggar<br /> +So suddenly into a poor rich man?</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">NATHAN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">No, I think not.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">HAFI.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> A sillier, sillier +weakness,<br /> +For the first time my vanity was tempter,<br /> +Flattered by Saladin’s good-hearted notion—</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">NATHAN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">Which was?</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">HAFI.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> That all a beggar’s +wants are only<br /> +Known to a beggar: such alone can tell<br /> +How to relieve them usefully and wisely.<br /> +“Thy predecessor was too cold for me,<br /> +(He said) and when he gave, he gave unkindly;<br /> +Informed himself with too precautious strictness<br /> +Concerning the receiver, not content<br /> +To leant the want, unless he knew its cause,<br /> +And measuring out by that his niggard bounty.<br /> +Thou wilt not thus bestow. So harshly kind<br /> +Shall Saladin not seem in thee. Thou art not<br /> +Like the choked pipe, whence sullied and by spurts<br /> +Flow the pure waters it absorbs in silence.<br /> +Al-Hafi thinks and feels like me.” So nicely<br /> +The fowler whistled, that at last the quail<br /> +Ran to his net. Cheated, and by a cheat—</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">NATHAN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">Tush! dervis, gently.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">HAFI.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> What! and is’t not +cheating,<br /> +Thus to oppress mankind by hundred thousands,<br /> +To squeeze, grind, plunder, butcher, and torment,<br /> +And act philanthropy to individuals?—<br /> +Not cheating—thus to ape from the Most High<br /> +The bounty, which alike on mead and desert,<br /> +Upon the just and the unrighteous, falls<br /> +In sunshine or in showers, and not possess<br /> +The never-empty hand of the Most High?—<br /> +Not cheating—</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">NATHAN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> Cease!</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">HAFI.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> Of my own cheating sure<br /> +It is allowed to speak. Were it not cheating<br /> +To look for the fair side of these impostures,<br /> +In order, under colour of its fairness,<br /> +To gain advantage from them—ha?</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">NATHAN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> Al-Hafi,<br /> +Go to your desert quickly. Among men<br /> +I fear you’ll soon unlearn to be a man.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">HAFI.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">And so do I—farewell.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">NATHAN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> What, so abruptly?<br /> +Stay, stay, Al-Hafi; has the desert wings?<br /> +Man, ’twill not run away, I warrant you—<br /> +Hear, hear, I want you—want to talk with you—<br /> +He’s gone. I could have liked to question him<br /> +About our templar. He will likely know him.</p> +<p style="text-align: center" class="poetry"><span +class="smcap">Nathan</span> <i>and</i> <span +class="smcap">Daya</span>.<br /> +<span class="smcap">Daya</span> (<i>bursting in</i>).</p> +<p class="poetry">O Nathan, Nathan!</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">NATHAN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> Well, what now?</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">DAYA.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> He’s +there.<br /> +He shows himself again.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">NATHAN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> Who, Daya, who?</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">DAYA.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">He! he!</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">NATHAN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> When cannot He be seen? +Indeed<br /> +Your He is only one; that should not be,<br /> +Were he an angel even.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">DAYA.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> ’Neath the palms<br /> +He wanders up and down, and gathers dates.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">NATHAN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">And eats?—and as a templar?</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">DAYA.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> How you tease us!<br /> +Her eager eye espied him long ago,<br /> +While he scarce gleamed between the further stems,<br /> +And follows him most punctually. Go,<br /> +She begs, conjures you, go without delay;<br /> +And from the window will make signs to you<br /> +Which way his rovings bend. Do, do make haste.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">NATHAN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">What! thus, as I alighted from my camel,<br /> +Would that be decent? Swift, do you accost him,<br /> +Tell him of my return. I do not doubt,<br /> +His delicacy in the master’s absence<br /> +Forbore my house; but gladly will accept<br /> +The father’s invitation. Say, I ask him,<br /> +Most heartily request him—</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">DAYA.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> All in vain!<br /> +In short, he will not visit any Jew.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">NATHAN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">Then do thy best endeavours to detain him,<br +/> +Or with thine eyes to watch his further haunt,<br /> +Till I rejoin you. I shall not be long.</p> +<h4><span class="smcap">Scene</span>.—A Place of +Palms.</h4> +<p><i>The</i> <span class="smcap">Templar</span> <i>walking to +and fro</i>, <i>a</i> <span class="smcap">Friar</span> +<i>following him at some distance</i>, <i>as if desirous of +addressing him</i>.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">TEMPLAR.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">This fellow does not follow me for pastime.<br +/> +How skaunt he eyes his hands! Well, my good +brother—<br /> +Perhaps I should say, father; ought I not?</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">FRIAR.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">No—brother—a lay-brother at your +service.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">TEMPLAR.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">Well, brother, then; if I myself had +something—<br /> +But—but, by God, I’ve nothing.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">FRIAR.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> Thanks the same;<br /> +And God reward your purpose thousand-fold!<br /> +The will, and not the deed, makes up the giver.<br /> +Nor was I sent to follow you for alms—</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">TEMPLAR.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">Sent then?</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">FRIAR.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> Yes, from the monastery.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">TEMPLAR.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> Where<br /> +I was just now in hopes of coming in<br /> +For pilgrims’ fare.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">FRIAR.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> They were already at +table:<br /> +But if it suit with you to turn directly—</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">TEMPLAR.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">Why so? ’Tis true, I have not +tasted meat<br /> +This long time. What of that? The dates are ripe.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">FRIAR.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">O with that fruit go cautiously to work.<br /> +Too much of it is hurtful, sours the humours,<br /> +Makes the blood melancholy.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">TEMPLAR.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> And if I<br /> +Choose to be melancholy—For this warning<br /> +You were not sent to follow me, I ween.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">FRIAR.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">Oh, no: I only was to ask about you,<br /> +And feel your pulse a little.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">TEMPLAR.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> And you +tell me<br /> +Of that yourself?</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">FRIAR.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> Why not?</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">TEMPLAR.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> A deep one! +troth:<br /> +And has your cloister more such?</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">FRIAR.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> I +can’t say.<br /> +Obedience is our bounden duty.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">TEMPLAR.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> So—<br /> +And you obey without much scrupulous questioning?</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">FRIAR.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">Were it obedience else, good sir?</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">TEMPLAR.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> How is it<br /> +The simple mind is ever in the right?<br /> +May you inform me who it is that wishes<br /> +To know more of me? ’Tis not you yourself,<br /> +I dare be sworn.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">FRIAR.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> Would it become me, sir,<br +/> +Or benefit me?</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">TEMPLAR.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> Whom can it become,<br /> +Whom can it benefit, to be so curious?</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">FRIAR.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">The patriarch, I presume—’twas he +that sent me.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">TEMPLAR.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">The patriarch? Knows he not my badge, the +cross<br /> +Of red on the white mantle?</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">FRIAR.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> Can I say?</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">TEMPLAR.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">Well, brother, well! I am a templar, +taken<br /> +Prisoner at Tebnin, whose exalted fortress,<br /> +Just as the truce expired, we sought to climb,<br /> +In order to push forward next to Sidon.<br /> +I was the twentieth captive, but the only<br /> +Pardoned by Saladin—with this, the patriarch<br /> +Knows all, or more than his occasions ask.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">FRIAR.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">And yet no more than he already knows,<br /> +I think. But why alone of all the captives<br /> +Thou hast been spared, he fain would learn—</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">TEMPLAR.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> Can I<br /> +Myself tell that? Already, with bare neck,<br /> +I kneeled upon my mantle, and awaited<br /> +The blow—when Saladin with steadfast eye<br /> +Fixed me, sprang nearer to me, made a sign—<br /> +I was upraised, unbound, about to thank him—<br /> +And saw his eye in tears. Both stand in silence.<br /> +He goes. I stay. How all this hangs together,<br /> +Thy patriarch may unriddle.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">FRIAR.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> He concludes,<br /> +That God preserved you for some mighty deed.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">TEMPLAR.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">Some mighty deed? To save out of the +fire<br /> +A Jewish girl—to usher curious pilgrims<br /> +About Mount Sinai—to—</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">FRIAR.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> The time may come—<br +/> +And this is no such trifle—but perhaps<br /> +The patriarch meditates a weightier office.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">TEMPLAR.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">Think you so, brother? Has he hinted +aught?</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">FRIAR.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">Why, yes; I was to sift you out a little,<br /> +And hear if you were one to—</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">TEMPLAR.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> Well—to what?<br /> +I’m curious to observe how this man sifts.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">FRIAR.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">The shortest way will be to tell you plainly<br +/> +What are the patriarch’s wishes.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">TEMPLAR.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> And they are—</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">FRIAR.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">To send a letter by your hand.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">TEMPLAR.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> By me?<br /> +I am no carrier. And were that an office<br /> +More meritorious than to save from burning<br /> +A Jewish maid?</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">FRIAR.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> So it should seem; must +seem—<br /> +For, says the patriarch, to all Christendom<br /> +This letter is of import; and to bear it<br /> +Safe to its destination, says the patriarch,<br /> +God will reward with a peculiar crown<br /> +In heaven; and of this crown, the patriarch says,<br /> +No one is worthier than you—</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">TEMPLAR.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> Than I?</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">FRIAR.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">For none so able, and so fit to earn<br /> +This crown, the patriarch says, as you.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">TEMPLAR.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> As I?</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">FRIAR.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">The patriarch here is free, can look about +him,<br /> +And knows, he says, how cities may be stormed,<br /> +And how defended; knows, he says, the strengths<br /> +And weaknesses of Saladin’s new bulwark,<br /> +And of the inner rampart last thrown up;<br /> +And to the warriors of the Lord, he says,<br /> +Could clearly point them out;—</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">TEMPLAR.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> And can I know<br /> +Exactly the contents of this same letter?</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">FRIAR.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">Why, that I don’t pretend to vouch +exactly—<br /> +’Tis to King Philip: and our patriarch—<br /> +I often wonder how this holy man,<br /> +Who lives so wholly to his God and heaven,<br /> +Can stoop to be so well informed about<br /> +Whatever passes here—’Tis a hard task!</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">TEMPLAR.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">Well—and your patriarch—</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">FRIAR.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> Knows, with great +precision,<br /> +And from sure hands, how, when, and with what force,<br /> +And in which quarter, Saladin, in case<br /> +The war breaks out afresh, will take the field.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">TEMPLAR.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">He knows that?</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">FRIAR.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> Yes; and would acquaint King +Philip,<br /> +That he may better calculate, if really<br /> +The danger be so great as to require<br /> +Him to renew at all events the truce<br /> +So bravely broken by your body.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">TEMPLAR.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> So?<br /> +This is a patriarch indeed! He wants<br /> +No common messenger; he wants a spy.<br /> +Go tell your patriarch, brother, I am not,<br /> +As far as you can sift, the man to suit him.<br /> +I still esteem myself a prisoner, and<br /> +A templar’s only calling is to fight,<br /> +And not to ferret out intelligence.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">FRIAR.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">That’s much as I supposed, and, to speak +plainly,<br /> +Not to be blamed. The best is yet behind.<br /> +The patriarch has made out the very fortress,<br /> +Its name, and strength, and site on Libanon,<br /> +Wherein the mighty sums are now concealed,<br /> +With which the prudent father of the sultan<br /> +Provides the cost of war, and pays the army.<br /> +He knows that Saladin, from time to time,<br /> +Goes to this fortress, through by-ways and passe<br /> +With few attendants.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">TEMPLAR.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> Well—</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">FRIAR.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> How easy +’twere<br /> +To seize his person in these expeditions,<br /> +And make an end of all! You shudder, sir—<br /> +Two Maronites, who fear the Lord, have offer<br /> +To share the danger of the enterprise,<br /> +Under a proper leader.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">TEMPLAR.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> And the patriarch<br /> +Had cast his eye on me for this brave office?</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">FRIAR.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">He thinks King Philip might from Ptolemais<br +/> +Best second such a deed.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">TEMPLAR.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> On me? on me?<br /> +Have you not heard then, just now heard, the favour<br /> +Which I received from Saladin?</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">FRIAR.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> Oh, +yes!</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">TEMPLAR.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">And yet?</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">FRIAR.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> The patriarch +thinks—that’s mighty well—<br /> +God, and the order’s interest—</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">TEMPLAR.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> Alter nothing,<br /> +Command no villainies.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">FRIAR.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> No, that indeed not;<br /> +But what is villainy in human eyes<br /> +May in the sight of God, the patriarch thinks,<br /> +Not be—</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">TEMPLAR.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> I owe my life to Saladin,<br +/> +And might take his?</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">FRIAR.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> That—fie! But +Saladin,<br /> +The patriarch thinks, is yet the common foe<br /> +Of Christendom, and cannot earn a right<br /> +To be your friend.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">TEMPLAR.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> My friend—because I +will not<br /> +Behave like an ungrateful scoundrel to him.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">FRIAR.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">Yet gratitude, the patriarch thinks, is not<br +/> +A debt before the eye of God or man,<br /> +Unless for our own sakes the benefit<br /> +Had been conferred; and, it has been reported,<br /> +The patriarch understands that Saladin<br /> +Preserved your life merely because your voice,<br /> +Your air, or features, raised a recollection<br /> +Of his lost brother.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">TEMPLAR.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> He knows this? and +yet—<br /> +If it were sure, I should—ah, Saladin!<br /> +How! and shall nature then have formed in me<br /> +A single feature in thy brother’s likeness,<br /> +With nothing in my soul to answer to it?<br /> +Or what does correspond shall I suppress<br /> +To please a patriarch? So thou dost not cheat us,<br /> +Nature—and so not contradict Thyself,<br /> +Kind God of all.—Go, brother, go away:<br /> +Do not stir up my anger.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">FRIAR.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> I withdraw<br /> +More gladly than I came. We cloister-folk<br /> +Are forced to vow obedience to superiors.</p> +<p style="text-align: right">[<i>Goes</i>.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span class="smcap">Templar</span> +<i>and</i> <span class="smcap">Daya</span>.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">DAYA.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">The monk, methinks, left him in no good +mood:<br /> +But I must risk my message.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">TEMPLAR.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> Better still<br /> +The proverb says that monks and women are<br /> +The devil’s clutches; and I’m tossed to-day<br /> +From one to th’ other.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">DAYA.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> Whom do I behold?—<br +/> +Thank God! I see you, noble knight, once more.<br /> +Where have you lurked this long, long space? You’ve +not<br /> +Been ill?</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">TEMPLAR.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> No.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">DAYA.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> Well, +then?</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">TEMPLAR.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> Yes.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">DAYA.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> We’ve +all been anxious<br /> +Lest something ailed you.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">TEMPLAR.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> So?</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">DAYA.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> Have you been journeying?</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">TEMPLAR.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">Hit off!</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">DAYA.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> How long returned?</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">TEMPLAR.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> Since +yesterday.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">DAYA.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">Our Recha’s father too is just +returned,<br /> +And now may Recha hope at last—</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">TEMPLAR.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> For +what?</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">DAYA.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">For what she often has requested of you.<br /> +Her father pressingly invites your visit.<br /> +He now arrives from Babylon, with twenty<br /> +High-laden camels, brings the curious drugs,<br /> +And precious stones, and stuffs, he has collected<br /> +From Syria, Persia, India, even China.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">TEMPLAR.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">I am no chap.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">DAYA.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> His nation honours him,<br /> +As if he were a prince, and yet to hear him<br /> +Called the <i>wise</i> Nathan by them, not the <i>rich</i>,<br /> +Has often made me wonder.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">TEMPLAR.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> To his nation<br /> +Are <i>rich</i> and <i>wise</i> perhaps of equal import.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">DAYA.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">But above all he should be called the +<i>good</i>.<br /> +You can’t imagine how much goodness dwells<br /> +Within him. Since he has been told the service<br /> +You rendered to his Recha, there is nothing<br /> +That he would grudge you.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">TEMPLAR.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> Aye?</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">DAYA.</span></p> +<p +class="poetry"> Do—see +him, try him.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">TEMPLAR.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">A burst of feeling soon is at an end.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">DAYA.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">And do you think that I, were he less kind,<br +/> +Less bountiful, had housed with him so long:<br /> +That I don’t feel my value as a Christian:<br /> +For ’twas not o’er my cradle said, or sung,<br /> +That I to Palestina should pursue<br /> +My husband’s steps, only to educate<br /> +A Jewess. My husband was a noble page<br /> +In Emperor Frederic’s army.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">TEMPLAR.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> And by +birth<br /> +A Switzer, who obtained the gracious honour<br /> +Of drowning in one river with his master.<br /> +Woman, how often you have told me this!<br /> +Will you ne’er leave off persecuting me?</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">DAYA.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">My Jesus! persecute—</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">TEMPLAR.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> Aye, +persecute.<br /> +Observe then, I henceforward will not see,<br /> +Not hear you, nor be minded of a deed<br /> +Over and over, which I did unthinking,<br /> +And which, when thought about, I wonder at.<br /> +I wish not to repent it; but, remember,<br /> +Should the like accident occur again,<br /> +’Twill be your fault if I proceed more coolly,<br /> +Ask a few questions, and let burn what’s burning.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">DAYA.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">My God forbid!</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">TEMPLAR.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> From this day forth, good +woman,<br /> +Do me at least the favour not to know me:<br /> +I beg it of you; and don’t send the father.<br /> +A Jew’s a Jew, and I am rude and bearish.<br /> +The image of the maid is quite erased<br /> +Out of my soul—if it was ever there—</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">DAYA.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">But yours remains with her.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">TEMPLAR.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> Why so—what +then—<br /> +Wherefore give harbour to it?—</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">DAYA.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> Who knows wherefore?<br /> +Men are not always what they seem to be.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">TEMPLAR.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">They’re seldom better than they seem to +be.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">DAYA.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">Ben’t in this hurry.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">TEMPLAR.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> Pray, forbear to make<br /> +These palm-trees odious. I have loved to walk here.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">DAYA.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">Farewell then, bear. Yet I must track the +savage.</p> +<h3>ACT II.</h3> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="smcap">Scene</span>.—The Sultan’s +Palace.—An outer room of Sittah’s apartment.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span class="smcap">Saladin</span> +<i>and</i> <span class="smcap">Sittah</span>, <i>playing +chess</i>.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">SITTAH.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">Wherefore so absent, brother? How you +play!</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">SALADIN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">Not well? I thought—</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">SITTAH.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> Yes; very well for me,<br /> +Take back that move.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">SALADIN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> Why?</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">SITTAH.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> Don’t +you see the knight<br /> +Becomes exposed?</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">SALADIN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> ’Tis true: then so.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">SITTAH.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> And so<br +/> +I take the pawn.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">SALADIN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> That’s true +again. Then, check!</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">SITTAH.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">That cannot help you. When my king is +castled<br /> +All will be safe.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">SALADIN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> But out of my dilemma<br /> +’Tis not so easy to escape unhurt.<br /> +Well, you must have the knight.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">SITTAH.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> I will not +have him,<br /> +I pass him by.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">SALADIN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> In that, there’s no +forbearance:<br /> +The place is better than the piece.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">SITTAH.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> Maybe.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">SALADIN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">Beware you reckon not without your host:<br /> +This stroke you did not think of.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">SITTAH.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> No, +indeed;<br /> +I did not think you tired of your queen.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">SALADIN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">My queen?</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">SITTAH.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> Well, well! I find that +I to-day<br /> +Shall earn a thousand dinars to an asper.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">SALADIN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">How so, my sister?</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">SITTAH.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> Play the ignorant—<br +/> +As if it were not purposely thou losest.<br /> +I find not my account in ’t; for, besides<br /> +That such a game yields very little pastime,<br /> +When have I not, by losing, won with thee?<br /> +When hast thou not, by way of comfort to me<br /> +For my lost game, presented twice the stake?</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">SALADIN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">So that it may have been on purpose, sister,<br +/> +That thou hast lost at times.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">SITTAH.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> At least, +my brother’s<br /> +Great liberality may be one cause<br /> +Why I improve no faster.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">SALADIN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> We forget<br /> +The game before us: lot us make an end of it.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">SITTAH.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">I move—so—now then—check! and +check again!</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">SALADIN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">This countercheck I wasn’t aware of, +Sittah;<br /> +My queen must fall the sacrifice.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">SITTAH.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> Let’s +see—<br /> +Could it be helped?</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">SALADIN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> No, no, take off the +queen!<br /> +That is a piece which never thrives with me.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">SITTAH.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">Only that piece?</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">SALADIN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> Off with +it! I shan’t miss it.<br /> +Thus I guard all again.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">SITTAH.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> How +civilly<br /> +We should behave to queens, my brother’s lessons<br /> +Have taught me but too well.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">SALADIN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> Take her, +or not,<br /> +I stir the piece no more.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">SITTAH.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> Why should I take her?<br /> +Check!</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">SALADIN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> Go on.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">SITTAH.</span></p> +<p +class="poetry"> Check!—</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">SALADIN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> And +check-mate?</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">SITTAH.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> Hold! not yet.<br /> +You may advance the knight, and ward the danger,<br /> +Or as you will—it is all one.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">SALADIN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> It is so.<br /> +You are the winner, and Al-Hafi pays.<br /> +Let him be called. Sittah, you was not wrong;<br /> +I seem to recollect I was unmindful—<br /> +A little absent. One isn’t always willing<br /> +To dwell upon some shapeless bits of wood<br /> +Coupled with no idea. Yet the Imam,<br /> +When I play with him, bends with such abstraction—<br /> +The loser seeks excuses. Sittah, ’twas not<br /> +The shapeless men, and the unmeaning squares,<br /> +That made me heedless—your dexterity,<br /> +Your calm sharp eye.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">SITTAH.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> And what of that, good +brother,<br /> +Is that to be th’ excuse for your defeat?<br /> +Enough—you played more absently than I.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">SALADIN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">Than you! What dwells upon your mind, my +Sittah?<br /> +Not your own cares, I doubt—</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">SITTAH.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> O +Saladin,<br /> +When shall we play again so constantly?</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">SALADIN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">An interruption will but whet our zeal.<br /> +You think of the campaign. Well, let it come.<br /> +It was not I who first unsheathed the sword.<br /> +I would have willingly prolonged the truce,<br /> +And willingly have knit a closer bond,<br /> +A lasting one—have given to my Sittah<br /> +A husband worthy of her, Richard’s brother.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">SITTAH.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">You love to talk of Richard.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">SALADIN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> Richard’s sister<br /> +Might then have been allotted to our Melek.<br /> +O what a house that would have formed—the first—<br +/> +The best—and what is more—of earth the happiest!<br +/> +You know I am not loth to praise myself;<br /> +Why should I?—Of my friends am I not worthy?<br /> +O we had then led lives!</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">SITTAH.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> A pretty dream.<br /> +It makes me smile. You do not know the Christians.<br /> +You will not know them. ’Tis this people’s +pride<br /> +Not to be men, but to be Christians. Even<br /> +What of humane their Founder felt, and taught,<br /> +And left to savour their found superstition,<br /> +They value not because it is humane,<br /> +Lovely, and good for man; they only prize it<br /> +Because ’twas Christ who taught it, Christ who did it.<br +/> +’Tis well for them He was so good a man:<br /> +Well that they take His goodness all for granted,<br /> +And in His virtues put their trust. His virtues—<br +/> +’Tis not His virtues, but His name alone<br /> +They wish to thrust upon us—’Tis His name<br /> +Which they desire should overspread the world,<br /> +Should swallow up the name of all good men,<br /> +And put the best to shame. ’Tis His mere name<br /> +They care for—</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">SALADIN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> Else, my Sittah, as thou +sayst,<br /> +They would not have required that thou, and Melek,<br /> +Should be called Christians, ere you might be suffered<br /> +To feel for Christians conjugal affection.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">SITTAH.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">As if from Christians only, and as +Christians,<br /> +That love could be expected which our Maker<br /> +In man and woman for each other planted.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">SALADIN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">The Christians do believe such idle notions,<br +/> +They well might fancy this: and yet thou errest.<br /> +The templars, not the Christians, are in fault.<br /> +’Tis not as Christians, but as templars, that<br /> +They thwart my purpose. They alone prevent it.<br /> +They will on no account evacuate Acca,<br /> +Which was to be the dower of Richard’s sister,<br /> +And, lest their order suffer, use this cant—<br /> +Bring into play the nonsense of the monk—<br /> +And scarcely would await the truce’s end<br /> +To fall upon us. Go on so—go on,<br /> +To me you’re welcome, sirs. Would all things else<br +/> +Went but as right!</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">SITTAH.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> What else should trouble +thee,<br /> +If this do not?</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">SALADIN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> Why, that which ever has.<br +/> +I’ve been on Libanon, and seen our father.<br /> +He’s full of care.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">SITTAH.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> Alas!</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">SALADIN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> He +can’t make shift,<br /> +Straitened on all sides, put off, disappointed;<br /> +Nothing comes in.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">SITTAH.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> What fails him, Saladin?</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">SALADIN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">What? but the thing I scarcely deign to +name,<br /> +Which, when I have it, so superfluous seems,<br /> +And, when I have it not, so necessary.<br /> +Where is Al-Hafi then—this fatal money—<br /> +O welcome, Hafi!</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span class="smcap">Hafi</span>, +<span class="smcap">Saladin</span>, <i>and</i> <span +class="smcap">Sittah</span>.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">HAFI.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> I suppose the gold<br /> +From Egypt is arrived.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">SALADIN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> Hast +tidings of it?</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">HAFI.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">I? no, not I. I thought to have +ta’en it here.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">SALADIN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">To Sittah pay a thousand dinars.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">HAFI.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> Pay?<br /> +And not receive—that’s something less than +nothing.<br /> +To Sittah and again to Sittah—and<br /> +Once more for loss at chess? Is this your game?</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">SITTAH.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">Dost grudge me my good fortune?</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span class="GutSmall">HAFI</span> +(<i>examining the board</i>).</p> +<p class="poetry"> Grudge! you know—</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">SITTAH</span> (<i>making signs to Hafi</i>).</p> +<p class="poetry">Hush, Hafi, hush!</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">HAFI.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> And were the white men +yours?<br /> +You gave the check?</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">SITTAH.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> ’Tis well he does not +hear.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">HAFI.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">And he to move?</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">SITTAH</span> (<i>approaching Hafi</i>).</p> +<p class="poetry"> Say then aloud that I<br /> +Shall have my money.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span class="GutSmall">HAFI</span> +(<i>still considering the game</i>).</p> +<p class="poetry"> Yes, yes! you shall have +it—<br /> +As you have always had it.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">SITTAH.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> Are you +crazy?</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">HAFI.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">The game is not decided; Saladin,<br /> +You have not lost.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">SALADIN</span> (<i>scarcely hearkening</i>).</p> +<p class="poetry"> Well, well!—pay, +pay.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">HAFI.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> Pay, pay—<br /> +There stands your queen.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">SALADIN</span> (<i>still walking about</i>).</p> +<p class="poetry"> It boots not, she is +useless.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">SITTAH</span> (<i>low to Hafi</i>).</p> +<p class="poetry">Do say that I may send and fetch the gold.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">HAFI.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">Aye, aye, as usual—But although the +queen<br /> +Be useless, you are by no means check-mate.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">SALADIN</span> (<i>dashes down the +board</i>).</p> +<p class="poetry">I am. I will then—</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">HAFI.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> So! small pains, small +gains;<br /> +As got, so spent.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">SALADIN</span> (<i>to Sittah</i>).</p> +<p class="poetry"> What is he muttering +there?</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">SITTAH</span> (<i>to Saladin</i>, <i>winking +meanwhile to Hafi</i>).</p> +<p class="poetry">You know him well, and his unyielding way.<br +/> +He chooses to be prayed to—maybe he’s +envious—</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">SALADIN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">No, not of thee, not of my sister, surely.<br +/> +What do I hear, Al-Hafi, are you envious?</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">HAFI.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">Perhaps. I’d rather have her head +than mine,<br /> +Or her heart either.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">SITTAH.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> Ne’ertheless, my +brother,<br /> +He pays me right, and will again to-day.<br /> +Let him alone. There, go away, Al-Hafi;<br /> +I’ll send and fetch my dinars.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">HAFI.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> No, I will not;<br /> +I will not act this farce a moment longer:<br /> +He shall, must know it.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">SALADIN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> Who? what?</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">SITTAH.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> O +Al-Hafi,<br /> +Is this thy promise, this thy keeping word?</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">HAFI.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">How could I think it was to go so far?</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">SALADIN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">Well, what am I to know?</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">SITTAH.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> I pray thee, Hafi,<br /> +Be more discreet.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">SALADIN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> That’s very +singular.<br /> +And what can Sittah then so earnestly,<br /> +So warmly have to sue for from a stranger,<br /> +A dervis, rather than from me, her brother?<br /> +Al-Hafi, I command. Dervis, speak out.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">SITTAH.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">Let not a trifle, brother, touch you nearer<br +/> +Than is becoming. You know I have often<br /> +Won the same sum of you at chess, and, as<br /> +I have not just at present need of money,<br /> +I’ve left the sum at rest in Hafi’s chest,<br /> +Which is not over-full; and thus the stakes<br /> +Are not yet taken out—but, never fear,<br /> +It is not my intention to bestow them<br /> +On thee, or Hafi.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">HAFI.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> Were it only this—</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">SITTAH.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">Some more such trifles are perhaps +unclaimed;<br /> +My own allowance, which you set apart,<br /> +Has lain some months untouched.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">HAFI.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> Nor is that +all—</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">SALADIN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">Nor yet—speak then!</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">HAFI.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> Since we have been +expecting<br /> +The treasure out of Egypt, she not only—</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">SITTAH.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">Why listen to him?</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">HAFI.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> Has not had an +asper;—</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">SALADIN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">Good creature—but has been advancing to +thee—</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">HAFI.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">Has at her sole expense maintained thy +state.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">SALADIN</span> (<i>embracing her</i>).</p> +<p class="poetry">My sister—ah!</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">SITTAH.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> And who but you, my +brother,<br /> +Could make me rich enough to have the power?</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">HAFI.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">And in a little time again will leave thee<br +/> +Poor as himself.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">SALADIN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> I, poor—her brother, +poor?<br /> +When had I more, when less than at this instant?<br /> +A cloak, a horse, a sabre, and a God!—<br /> +What need I else? With them what can be wanting?<br /> +And yet, Al-Hafi, I could quarrel with thee<br /> +For this.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">SITTAH.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> A truce to that, my +brother. Were it<br /> +As easy to remove our father’s cares!</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">SALADIN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">Ah! now my joy thou hast at once abated:<br /> +To me there is, there can be, nothing wanting;<br /> +But—but to him—and, in him, to us all.<br /> +What shall I do? From Egypt maybe nothing<br /> +Will come this long time. Why—God only knows.<br /> +We hear of no stir. To reduce, to spare,<br /> +I am quite willing for myself to stoop to,<br /> +Were it myself, and only I, should suffer—<br /> +But what can that avail? A cloak, a horse,<br /> +A sword I ne’er can want;—as to my God,<br /> +He is not to be bought; He asks but little,<br /> +Only my heart. I had relied, Al-Hafi,<br /> +Upon a surplus in my chest.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">HAFI.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> A +surplus?<br /> +And tell me, would you not have had me impaled,<br /> +Or hanged at least, if you had found me out<br /> +In hoarding up a surplus? Deficits—<br /> +Those one may venture on.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">SALADIN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> Well, but +how next?<br /> +Could you have found out no one where to borrow<br /> +Unless of Sittah?</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">SITTAH.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> And would I have borne<br /> +To see the preference given to another?<br /> +I still lay claim to it. I am not as yet<br /> +Entirely bare.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">SALADIN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> Not yet +entirely—This<br /> +Was wanting still. Go, turn thyself about;<br /> +Take where, and as, thou canst; be quick, Al-Hafi.<br /> +Borrow on promise, contract, anyhow;<br /> +But heed me—not of those I have enriched—<br /> +To borrow there might seem to ask it back.<br /> +Go to the covetous. They’ll gladliest lend—<br +/> +They know how well their money thrives with me—</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">HAFI.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">I know none such.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">SITTAH.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> I recollect just now<br /> +I heard, Al-Hafi, of thy friend’s return.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span class="GutSmall">HAFI</span> +(<i>startled</i>).</p> +<p class="poetry">Friend—friend of mine—and who +should that be?</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">SITTAH.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> Who?<br /> +Thy vaunted Jew!</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">HAFI.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> A Jew, and praised by me?</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">SITTAH.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">To whom his God (I think I still retain<br /> +Thy own expression used concerning him)<br /> +To whom, of all the good things of this world,<br /> +His God in full abundance has bestowed<br /> +The greatest and the least.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">HAFI.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> What could I mean<br /> +When I said so?</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">SITTAH.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> The least of good things, +riches;<br /> +The greatest, wisdom.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">HAFI.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> How—and of a Jew<br /> +Could I say that?</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">SITTAH.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> Didst thou not—of thy +Nathan?</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">HAFI.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">Hi ho! of him—of Nathan? At that +moment<br /> +He did not come across me. But, in fact,<br /> +He is at length come home; and, I suppose,<br /> +Is not ill off. His people used to call him<br /> +The wise—also the rich.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">SITTAH.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> The rich he’s named<br +/> +Now more than ever. The whole town resounds<br /> +With news of jewels, costly stuffs, and stores,<br /> +That he brings back.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">HAFI.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> Is he the rich +again—<br /> +He’ll be, no fear of it, once more the wise.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">SITTAH.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">What thinkst thou, Hafi, of a call on him?</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">HAFI.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">On him—sure not to borrow—why, you +know him—<br /> +He lend? Therein his very wisdom lies,<br /> +That he lends no one.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">SITTAH.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> Formerly thon gav’st<br +/> +A very different picture of this Nathan.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">HAFI.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">In case of need he’ll lend you +merchandise,<br /> +But money, money, never. He’s a Jew,<br /> +There are but few such! he has understanding,<br /> +Knows life, plays chess; but is in bad notorious<br /> +Above his brethren, as he is in good.<br /> +On him rely not. To the poor indeed<br /> +He vies perhaps with Saladin in giving:<br /> +Though he distributes less, he gives as freely,<br /> +As silently, as nobly, to Jew, Christian,<br /> +Mahometan, or Parsee—’tis all one.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">SITTAH.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">And such a man should be—</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">SALADIN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> How comes +it then<br /> +I never heard of him?</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">SITTAH.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> Should be unwilling<br /> +To lend to Saladin, who wants for others,<br /> +Not for himself.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">HAFI.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> Aye, there peeps out the +Jew,<br /> +The ordinary Jew. Believe me, prince,<br /> +He’s jealous, really envious of your giving.<br /> +To earn God’s favour seems his very business.<br /> +He lends not that he may always have to give.<br /> +The law commandeth mercy, not compliance:<br /> +And thus for mercy’s sake he’s uncomplying.<br /> +’Tis true, I am not now on the best terms<br /> +With Nathan, but I must entreat you, think not<br /> +That therefore I would do injustice to him.<br /> +He’s good in everything, but not in that—<br /> +Only in that. I’ll knock at other doors.<br /> +I just have recollected an old Moor,<br /> +Who’s rich and covetous—I go—I go.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">SITTAH.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">Why in such hurry, Hafi?</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">SALADIN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> Let him +go.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span class="smcap">Saladin</span> +<i>and</i> <span class="smcap">Sittah</span>.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">SITTAH.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">He hastens like a man who would escape me;<br +/> +Why so? Was he indeed deceived in Nathan,<br /> +Or does he play upon us?</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">SALADIN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> Can I guess?<br /> +I scarcely know of whom you have been talking,<br /> +And hear to-day, for the first time, of Nathan.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">SITTAH.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">Is’t possible the man were hid from +thee,<br /> +Of whom ’tis said, he has found out the tombs<br /> +Of Solomon and David, knows the word<br /> +That lifts their marble lids, and thence obtains<br /> +The golden oil that feeds his shining pomp?</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">SALADIN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">Were this man’s wealth by miracle +created,<br /> +’Tis not at David’s tomb, or Solomon’s,<br /> +That ’twould be wrought. Not virtuous men lie +there.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">SITTAH.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">His source of opulence is more productive<br /> +And more exhaustless than a cave of Mammon.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">SALADIN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">He trades, I hear.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">SITTAH.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> His ships fill every +harbour;<br /> +His caravans through every desert toil.<br /> +This has Al-Hafi told me long ago:<br /> +With transport adding then—how nobly Nathan<br /> +Bestows what he esteems it not a meanness<br /> +By prudent industry to have justly earned—<br /> +How free from prejudice his lofty soul—<br /> +His heart to every virtue how unlocked—<br /> +With every lovely feeling how familiar.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">SALADIN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">Yet Hafi spake just now so coldly of him.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">SITTAH.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">Not coldly; but with awkwardness, confusion,<br +/> +As if he thought it dangerous to praise him,<br /> +And yet knew not to blame him undeserving,<br /> +Or can it really be that e’en the best<br /> +Among a people cannot quite escape<br /> +The tinges of the tribe; and that, in fact,<br /> +Al-Hafi has in this to blush for Nathan?<br /> +Be that as’t may—be he the Jew or no—<br /> +Is he but rich—that is enough for us.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">SALADIN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">You would not, sister, take his wealth by +force.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">SITTAH.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">What do you mean by force—fire, +sword? Oh no!<br /> +What force is necessary with the weak<br /> +But their own weakness? Come awhile with me<br /> +Into my harem: I have bought a songstress,<br /> +You have not heard her, she came yesterday:<br /> +Meanwhile I’ll think somewhat about a project<br /> +I have upon this Nathan. Follow, brother.</p> +<h4><span class="smcap">Scene</span>.—The Place of Palms, +close to Nathan’s House.</h4> +<p style="text-align: center"><span class="smcap">Nathan</span>, +<i>attired</i>, <i>comes out with</i> <span +class="smcap">Recha</span>.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">RECHA.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">You have been so very slow, my dearest +father,<br /> +You now will hardly be in time to find him.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">NATHAN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">Well, if not here beneath the palms; yet, +surely,<br /> +Elsewhere. My child, be satisfied. See, see,<br /> +Is not that Daya making towards us?</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">RECHA.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">She certainly has lost him then.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">NATHAN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> Why so?</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">RECHA.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">Else she’d walk quicker.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">NATHAN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> She may not have seen us.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">RECHA.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">There, now she sees us.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">NATHAN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> And her speed redoubles,<br +/> +Be calm, my Recha.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">RECHA.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> Would you have your +daughter<br /> +Be cool and unconcerned who ’twas that saved her,<br /> +Heed not to whom is due the life she prizes<br /> +Chiefly because she owed it first to thee?</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">NATHAN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">I would not wish thee other than thou art,<br +/> +E’en if I knew that in thy secret soul<br /> +A very different emotion throbs.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">RECHA.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">Why—what my father?</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">NATHAN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> Dost thou ask of me,<br /> +So tremblingly of me, what passes in thee?<br /> +Whatever ’tis, ’tis innocence and nature.<br /> +Be not alarmed, it gives me no alarm;<br /> +But promise me that, when thy heart shall speak<br /> +A plainer language, thou wilt not conceal<br /> +A single of thy wishes from my fondness.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">RECHA.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">Oh the mere possibility of wishing<br /> +Rather to veil and hide them makes me shudder.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">NATHAN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">Let this be spoken once for all. Well, +Daya—</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span class="smcap">Nathan</span>, +<span class="smcap">Recha</span>, <i>and</i> <span +class="smcap">Daya</span>.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">DAYA.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">He still is here beneath the palms, and soon<br +/> +Will reach yon wall. See, there he comes.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">RECHA.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> And +seems<br /> +Irresolute where next; if left or right.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">DAYA.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">I know he mostly passes to the convent,<br /> +And therefore comes this path. What will you lay me?</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">RECHA.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">Oh yes he does. And did you speak to +him?<br /> +How did he seem to-day?</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">DAYA.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> As heretofore.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">NATHAN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">Don’t let him see you with me: further +back;<br /> +Or rather to the house.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">RECHA.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> Just one peep more.<br /> +Now the hedge steals him from me.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">DAYA.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> Come away.<br /> +Your father’s in the right—should he perceive us,<br +/> +’Tis very probable he’ll tack about.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">RECHA.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">But for the hedge—</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">NATHAN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> Now he emerges from it.<br /> +He can’t but see you: hence—I ask it of you.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">DAYA.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">I know a window whence we yet may—</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">RECHA.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> Ay.</p> +<p style="text-align: right">[<i>Goes in with Daya</i>.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">NATHAN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">I’m almost shy of this strange fellow, +almost<br /> +Shrink back from his rough virtue. That one man<br /> +Should ever make another man feel awkward!<br /> +And yet—He’s coming—ha!—by God, the +youth<br /> +Looks like a man. I love his daring eye,<br /> +His open gait. May be the shell is bitter;<br /> +But not the kernel surely. I have seen<br /> +Some such, methinks. Forgive me, noble Frank.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span class="smcap">Nathan</span> +<i>and</i> <span class="smcap">Templar</span>.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">TEMPLAR.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">What?</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">NATHAN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> Give me leave.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">TEMPLAR.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> Well, Jew, +what wouldst thou have?</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">NATHAN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">The liberty of speaking to you!</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">TEMPLAR.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> So—<br /> +Can I prevent it? Quick then, what’s your +business?</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">NATHAN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">Patience—nor hasten quite so proudly +by<br /> +A man, who has not merited contempt,<br /> +And whom, for evermore, you’ve made your debtor.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">TEMPLAR.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">How so? Perhaps I +guess—No—Are you then—</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">NATHAN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">My name is Nathan, father to the maid<br /> +Your generous courage snatched from circling flames,<br /> +And hasten—</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">TEMPLAR.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> If with thanks, keep, keep +them all.<br /> +Those little things I’ve had to suffer much from:<br /> +Too much already, far. And, after all,<br /> +You owe me nothing. Was I ever told<br /> +She was your daughter? ’Tis a templar’s duty<br +/> +To rush to the assistance of the first<br /> +Poor wight that needs him; and my life just then<br /> +Was quite a burden. I was mighty glad<br /> +To risk it for another; tho’ it were<br /> +That of a Jewess.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">NATHAN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> Noble, and yet shocking!<br +/> +The turn might be expected. Modest greatness<br /> +Wears willingly the mask of what is shocking<br /> +To scare off admiration: but, altho’<br /> +She may disdain the tribute, admiration,<br /> +Is there no other tribute she can bear with?<br /> +Knight, were you here not foreign, not a captive<br /> +I would not ask so freely. Speak, command,<br /> +In what can I be useful?</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">TEMPLAR.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> You—in nothing.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">NATHAN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">I’m rich.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">TEMPLAR.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> To me the richer Jew +ne’er seemed<br /> +The bettor Jew.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">NATHAN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> Is that a reason why<br /> +You should not use the better part of him,<br /> +His wealth?</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">TEMPLAR.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> Well, well, I’ll not +refuse it wholly,<br /> +For my poor mantle’s sake—when that is threadbare,<br +/> +And spite of darning will not hold together,<br /> +I’ll come and borrow cloth, or money of thee,<br /> +To make me up a new one. Don’t look solemn;<br /> +The danger is not pressing; ’tis not yet<br /> +At the last gasp, but tight and strong and good,<br /> +Save this poor corner, where an ugly spot<br /> +You see is singed upon it. It got singed<br /> +As I bore off your daughter from the fire.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">NATHAN</span> (<i>taking hold of the +mantle</i>).</p> +<p class="poetry">’Tis singular that such an ugly spot<br +/> +Bears better testimony to the man<br /> +Than his own mouth. This brand—Oh I could kiss it!<br +/> +Your pardon—that I meant not.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">TEMPLAR.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> What?</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">NATHAN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> A tear<br +/> +Fell on the spot.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">TEMPLAR.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> You’ll find up more +such tears—<br /> +(This Jew methinks begins to work upon me).</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">NATHAN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">Would you send once this mantle to my +daughter?</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">TEMPLAR.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">Why?</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">NATHAN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> That her lips may cling to +this dear speck;<br /> +For at her benefactor’s feet to fall,<br /> +I find, she hopes in vain.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">TEMPLAR.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> But, Jew, your name<br /> +You said was Nathan—Nathan, you can join<br /> +Your words together cunningly—right well—<br /> +I am confused—in fact—I would have been—</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">NATHAN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">Twist, writhe, disguise you, as you will, I +know you,<br /> +You were too honest, knight, to be more civil;<br /> +A girl all feeling, and a she-attendant<br /> +All complaisance, a father at a distance—<br /> +You valued her good name, and would not see her.<br /> +You scorned to try her, lest you should be victor;<br /> +For that I also thank you.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">TEMPLAR.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> I confess,<br /> +You know how templars ought to think.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">NATHAN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> Still +templars—<br /> +And only <i>ought</i> to think—and all because<br /> +The rules and vows enjoin it to the <i>order</i>—<br /> +I know how good men think—know that all lands<br /> +Produce good men.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">TEMPLAR.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> But not without +distinction.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">NATHAN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">In colour, dress, and shape, perhaps, +distinguished.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">TEMPLAR.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">Here more, there fewer sure?</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">NATHAN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> That boots +not much,<br /> +The great man everywhere has need of room.<br /> +Too many set together only serve<br /> +To crush each others’ branches. Middling good,<br /> +As we are, spring up everywhere in plenty.<br /> +Only let one not scar and bruise the other;<br /> +Let not the gnarl be angry with the stump;<br /> +Let not the upper branch alone pretend<br /> +Not to have started from the common earth.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">TEMPLAR.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">Well said: and yet, I trust, you know the +nation,<br /> +That first began to strike at fellow men,<br /> +That first baptised itself the chosen people—<br /> +How now if I were—not to hate this people,<br /> +Yet for its pride could not forbear to scorn it,<br /> +The pride which it to Mussulman and Christian<br /> +Bequeathed, as were its God alone the true one,<br /> +You start, that I, a Christian and a templar,<br /> +Talk thus. Where, when, has e’er the pious rage<br /> +To own the better god—on the whole world<br /> +To force this better, as the best of all—<br /> +Shown itself more, and in a blacker form,<br /> +Than here, than now? To him, whom, here and now,<br /> +The film is not removing from his eye—<br /> +But be he blind that wills! Forget my speeches<br /> +And leave me.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">NATHAN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> Ah! indeed you do not know<br +/> +How closer I shall cling to you henceforth.<br /> +We must, we will be friends. Despise my nation—<br /> +We did not choose a nation for ourselves.<br /> +Are we our nations? What’s a nation then?<br /> +Were Jews and Christians such, e’er they were men?<br /> +And have I found in thee one more, to whom<br /> +It is enough to be a man?</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">TEMPLAR.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> That hast +thou.<br /> +Nathan, by God, thou hast. Thy hand. I blush<br /> +To have mistaken thee a single instant.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">NATHAN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">And I am proud of it. Only common +souls<br /> +We seldom err in.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">TEMPLAR.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> And uncommon ones<br /> +Seldom forget. Yes, Nathan, yes we must,<br /> +We will be friends.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">NATHAN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> We are so. And my +Recha—<br /> +She will rejoice. How sweet the wider prospect<br /> +That dawns upon me! Do but know her—once.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">TEMPLAR.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">I am impatient for it. Who is that<br /> +Bursts from your house, methinks it is your Daya.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">NATHAN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">Ay—but so anxiously—</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">TEMPLAR.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> Sure, to +our Recha<br /> +Nothing has happened.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span class="smcap">Nathan</span>, +<span class="smcap">Templar</span>, <i>and</i> <span +class="smcap">Daya</span>.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">DAYA.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> Nathan, Nathan.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">NATHAN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> Well.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">DAYA.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">Forgive me, knight, that I must interrupt +you.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">NATHAN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">What is the matter?</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">TEMPLAR.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> What?</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">DAYA.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> The sultan +sends—<br /> +The sultan wants to see you—in a hurry.<br /> +Jesus! the sultan—</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">NATHAN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> Saladin wants me?<br /> +He will be curious to see what wares,<br /> +Precious, or new, I brought with me from Persia.<br /> +Say there is nothing hardly yet unpacked.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">DAYA.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">No, no: ’tis not to look at anything.<br +/> +He wants to speak to you, to you in person,<br /> +And orders you to come as soon as may be.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">NATHAN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">I’ll go—return.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">DAYA.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> Knight, take it not amiss;<br +/> +But we were so alarmed for what the sultan<br /> +Could have in view.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">NATHAN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> That I +shall soon discover.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span class="smcap">Nathan</span> +<i>and</i> <span class="smcap">Templar</span>.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">TEMPLAR.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">And don’t you know him yet, I mean his +person?</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">NATHAN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">Whose, Saladin’s? Not yet. +I’ve neither shunned,<br /> +Nor sought to see him. And the general voice<br /> +Speaks too well of him, for me not to wish,<br /> +Rather to take its language upon trust,<br /> +Than sift the truth out. Yet—if it be so—<br /> +He, by the saving of your life, has now—</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">TEMPLAR.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">Yes: it is so. The life I live he +gave.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">NATHAN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">And in it double treble life to me.<br /> +This flings a bond about me, which shall tie me<br /> +For ever to his service: and I scarcely<br /> +Like to defer inquiring for his wishes.<br /> +For everything I am ready; and am ready<br /> +To own that ’tis on your account I am so.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">TEMPLAR.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">As often as I’ve thrown me in his way,<br +/> +I have not found as yet the means to thank him.<br /> +The impression that I made upon him came<br /> +Quickly, and so has vanished. Now perhaps<br /> +He recollects me not, who knows? Once more<br /> +At least, he must recall me to his mind,<br /> +Fully to fix my doom. ’Tis not enough<br /> +That by his order I am yet in being,<br /> +By his permission live, I have to learn<br /> +According to whose will I must exist.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">NATHAN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">Therefore I shall the more avoid delay.<br /> +Perchance some word may furnish me occasion<br /> +To glance at you—perchance—Excuse me, knight,<br /> +I am in haste. When shall we see you with us?</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">TEMPLAR.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">Soon as I may.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">NATHAN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> That is, whene’er you +will.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">TEMPLAR.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">To-day, then.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">NATHAN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> And your name?</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">TEMPLAR.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> My name +was—is<br /> +Conrade of Stauffen.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">NATHAN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">Conrade of Stauffen! Stauffen!</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">TEMPLAR.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">Why does that strike so forcibly upon you?</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">NATHAN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">There are more races of that name, no +doubt.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">TEMPLAR.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">Yes, many of that name were here—rot +here.<br /> +My uncle even—I should say, my father.<br /> +But wherefore is your look so sharpened on me?</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">NATHAN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">Nothing—how can I weary to behold +you—</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">TEMPLAR.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">Therefore I quit you first. The searching +eye<br /> +Finds often more than it desires to see.<br /> +I fear it, Nathan. Fare thee well. Let time,<br /> +Not curiosity make us acquainted.</p> +<p style="text-align: right">[<i>Goes</i>.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span class="smcap">Nathan</span>, +<i>and soon after</i>, <span class="smcap">Daya</span>.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">NATHAN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">“The searching eye will oft discover +more<br /> +Than it desires,” ’tis as he read my soul.<br /> +That too may chance to me. ’Tis not alone<br /> +Leonard’s walk, stature, but his very voice.<br /> +Leonard so wore his head, was even wont<br /> +Just so to brush his eyebrows with his hand,<br /> +As if to mask the fire that fills his look.<br /> +Those deeply graven images at times<br /> +How they will slumber in us, seem forgotten,<br /> +When all at once a word a tone, a gesture,<br /> +Retraces all. Of Stauffen? Ay +right—right—<br /> +Filnek and Stauffen—I will soon know more—<br /> +But first to Saladin—Ha, Daya there?<br /> +Why on the watch? Come nearer. By this time,<br /> +I’ll answer for’t, you’ve something more at +heart<br /> +Than to know what the sultan wants with me.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">DAYA.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">And do you take it ill in part of her?<br /> +You were beginning to converse with him<br /> +More confidentially, just as the message,<br /> +Sent by the sultan, tore us from the window.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">NATHAN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">Go tell her that she may expect his visit<br /> +At every instant.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">DAYA.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> What indeed—indeed?</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">NATHAN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">I think I can rely upon thee, Daya:<br /> +Be on thy guard, I beg. Thou’lt not repent it.<br /> +Be but discreet. Thy conscience too will surely<br /> +Find its account in ’t. Do not mar my plans<br /> +But leave them to themselves. Relate and question<br /> +With modesty, with backwardness.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">DAYA.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> Oh fear +not.<br /> +How come you to preach up all this to me?<br /> +I go—go too. The sultan sends for you<br /> +A second time, and by your friend Al-Hafi.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span class="smcap">Nathan</span> +<i>and</i> <span class="smcap">Hafi</span>.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">HAFI.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">Ha! art thou here? I was now seeking for +thee.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">NATHAN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">Why in such haste? What wants he then +with me?</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">HAFI.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">Who?</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">NATHAN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> Saladin. I’m +coming—I am coming.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">HAFI.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">Where, to the sultan’s?</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">NATHAN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> Was +’t not he who sent thee?</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">HAFI.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">Me? No. And has he sent +already?</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">NATHAN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> Yes.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">HAFI.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">Then ’tis all right.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">NATHAN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> What’s right?</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">HAFI.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> That +I’m unguilty.<br /> +God knows I am not guilty, knows I said—<br /> +What said I not of thee—belied +thee—slandered—<br /> +To ward it off.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">NATHAN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> To ward off what—be +plain.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">HAFI.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">That them art now become his defterdar.<br /> +I pity thee. Behold it I will not.<br /> +I go this very hour—my road I told thee.<br /> +Now—hast thou orders by the way—command,<br /> +And then, adieu. Indeed they must not be<br /> +Such business as a naked man can’t carry.<br /> +Quick, what’s thy pleasure?</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">NATHAN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> Recollect +yourself.<br /> +As yet all this is quite a riddle to me.<br /> +I know of nothing.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">HAFI.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> Where are then thy bags?</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">NATHAN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">Bags?</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">HAFI.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> Bags of money: bring the +weightiest forth:<br /> +The money thou’rt to lend the sultan, Nathan.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">NATHAN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">And is that all?</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">HAFI.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> Novice, thou’st yet to +learn<br /> +How he day after day will scoop and scoop,<br /> +Till nothing but an hollow empty paring,<br /> +A husk as light as film, is left behind.<br /> +Thou’st yet to learn how prodigality<br /> +From prudent bounty’s never-empty coffers<br /> +Borrows and borrows, till there’s not a purse<br /> +Left to keep rats from starving. Thou mayst fancy<br /> +That he who wants thy gold will heed thy counsel;<br /> +But when has he yet listened to advice?<br /> +Imagine now what just befell me with him.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">NATHAN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">Well—</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">HAFI.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> I went in and found him with +his sister,<br /> +Engaged, or rather rising up from chess.<br /> +Sittah plays—not amiss. Upon the board<br /> +The game, that Saladin supposed was lost<br /> +And had given up, yet stood. When I drew nigh,<br /> +And had examined it, I soon discovered<br /> +It was not gone by any means.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">NATHAN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> For you<br +/> +A blest discovery, a treasure-trove.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">HAFI.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">He only needed to remove his king<br /> +Behind the tower t’ have got him out of check.<br /> +Could I but make you sensible—</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">NATHAN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> I’ll +trust thee.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">HAFI.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">Then with the knight still left.—I would +have shown him<br /> +And called him to the board.—He must have won;<br /> +But what d’ye think he did?</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">NATHAN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> Dared doubt your insight?</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">HAFI.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">He would not listen; but with scorn +o’erthrew<br /> +The standing pieces.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">NATHAN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> Is that possible?</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">HAFI.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">And said, he chose to be check-mate—he +chose it—<br /> +Is that to play the game?</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">NATHAN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> Most surely not:<br /> +’Tis to play with the game.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">HAFI.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> And yet the +stake<br /> +Was not a nut-shell.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">NATHAN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> Money here or there<br /> +Matters but little. Not to listen to thee,<br /> +And on a point of such importance, Hafi,<br /> +There lies the rub. Not even to admire<br /> +Thine eagle eye—thy comprehensive glance—<br /> +That calls for vengeance:—does it not, Al-Hafi?</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">HAFI.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">I only tell it to thee that thou mayst see<br +/> +How his brain’s formed. I bear with him no longer.<br +/> +Here I’ve been running to each dirty Moor,<br /> +Inquiring who will lend him. I, who ne’er<br /> +Went for myself a begging, go a borrowing,<br /> +And that for others. Borrowing’s much the same<br /> +As begging; just as lending upon usury<br /> +Is much the same as thieving—decency<br /> +Makes not of lewdness virtue. On the Ganges,<br /> +Among my ghebers, I have need of neither:<br /> +Nor need I be the tool or pimp of either—<br /> +Upon the Ganges only there are men.<br /> +Here, thou alone art somehow almost worthy<br /> +To have lived upon the Ganges. Wilt thou with me?<br /> +And leave him with the captive cloak alone,<br /> +The booty that he wants to strip thee of.<br /> +Little by little he will flay thee clean.<br /> +Thins thou’lt be quit at once, without the tease<br /> +Of being sliced to death. Come wilt thou with me?<br /> +I’ll find thee with a staff.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">NATHAN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> I should have thought,<br /> +Come what come may, that thy resource remained:<br /> +But I’ll consider of it. Stay.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">HAFI.</span></p> +<p +class="poetry"> Consider—<br +/> +No; such things must not be considered.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">NATHAN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> Stay:<br /> +Till I have seen the sultan—till you’ve +had—</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">HAFI.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">He, who considers, looks about for motives<br +/> +To forbear daring. He, who can’t resolve<br /> +In storm and sunshine to himself to live,<br /> +Must live the slave of others all his life.<br /> +But as you please; farewell! ’tis you who choose.<br /> +My path lies yonder—and yours there—</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">NATHAN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> Al-Hafi,<br +/> +Stay then; at least you’ll set things right—not leave +them<br /> +At sixes and at sevens—</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">HAFI.</span></p> +<p +class="poetry"> Farce! +Parade!<br /> +The balance in the chest will need no telling.<br /> +And my account—Sittah, or you, will vouch.<br /> +Farewell.</p> +<p style="text-align: right">[<i>Goes</i>.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">NATHAN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> Yes I will vouch it. +Honest, wild—<br /> +How shall I call you—Ah! the real beggar<br /> +Is, after all, the only real monarch.</p> +<h3>ACT III.</h3> +<h4><span class="smcap">Scene</span>.—A Room in +Nathan’s House.</h4> +<p style="text-align: center"><span class="smcap">Recha</span> +<i>and</i> <span class="smcap">Daya</span>.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">RECHA.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">What, Daya, did my father really say<br /> +I might expect him, every instant, here?<br /> +That meant—now did it not? he would come soon.<br /> +And yet how many instants have rolled by!—<br /> +But who would think of those that are elapsed?—<br /> +To the next moment only I’m alive.—<br /> +At last the very one will come that brings him.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">DAYA.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">But for the sultan’s ill-timed message, +Nathan<br /> +Had brought him in.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">RECHA.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> And when this moment +comes,<br /> +And when this warmest inmost of my wishes<br /> +Shall be fulfilled, what then? what then?</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">DAYA.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> What +then?<br /> +Why then I hope the warmest of my wishes<br /> +Will have its turn, and happen.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">RECHA.</span></p> +<p +class="poetry"> ’Stead +of this,<br /> +What wish shall take possession of my bosom,<br /> +Which now without some ruling wish of wishes<br /> +Knows not to heave? Shall nothing? ah, I shudder.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">DAYA.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">Yes: mine shall then supplant the one +fulfilled—<br /> +My wish to see thee placed one day in Europe<br /> +In hands well worthy of thee.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">RECHA.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> No, thou +errest—<br /> +The very thing that makes thee form this wish<br /> +Prevents its being mine. The country draws thee,<br /> +And shall not mine retain me? Shall an image,<br /> +A fond remembrance of thy home, thy kindred,<br /> +Which years and distance have not yet effaced,<br /> +Be mightier o’er thy soul, than what I hear,<br /> +See, feel, and hold, of mine.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">DAYA.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> ’Tis +vain to struggle—<br /> +The ways of heaven are the ways of heaven.<br /> +Is he the destined saviour, by whose arm<br /> +His God, for whom he fights, intends to lead thee<br /> +Into the land, which thou wast born for—</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">RECHA.</span></p> +<p +class="poetry"> Daya,<br +/> +What art thou prating of? My dearest Daya,<br /> +Indeed thou hast some strange unseemly notions.<br /> +“<i>His</i> God—<i>for</i> whom he +fights”—what is a God<br /> +Belonging to a man—needing another<br /> +To fight his battles? And can we pronounce<br /> +<i>For</i> which among the scattered clods of earth<br /> +You, I was born; unless it be for that<br /> +<i>On</i> which we were produced. If Nathan heard +thee—<br /> +What has my father done to thee, that thou<br /> +Hast ever sought to paint my happiness<br /> +As lying far remote from him and his.<br /> +What has he done to thee that thus, among<br /> +The seeds of reason, which he sowed unmixed,<br /> +Pure in my soul, thou ever must be seeking<br /> +To plant the weeds, or flowers, of thy own land.<br /> +He wills not of these pranking gaudy blossoms<br /> +Upon this soil. And I too must acknowledge<br /> +I feel as if they had a sour-sweet odour,<br /> +That makes me giddy—that half suffocates.<br /> +Thy head is wont to bear it. I don’t blame<br /> +Those stronger nerves that can support it. Mine—<br +/> +Mine it behoves not. Latterly thy angel<br /> +Had made me half a fool. I am ashamed,<br /> +Whene’er I see my father, of the folly.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">DAYA.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">As if here only wisdom were at home—<br +/> +Folly—if I dared speak.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">RECHA.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> And dar’st thou not?<br +/> +When was I not all ear, if thou beganst<br /> +To talk about the heroes of thy faith?<br /> +Have I not freely on their deeds bestowed<br /> +My admiration, to their sufferings yielded<br /> +The tribute of my tears? Their faith indeed<br /> +Has never seemed their most heroic side<br /> +To me: yet, therefore, have I only learnt<br /> +To find more consolation in the thought,<br /> +That our devotion to the God of all<br /> +Depends not on our notions about God.<br /> +My father has so often told us so—<br /> +Thou hast so often to this point consented—<br /> +How can it be that thou alone art restless<br /> +To undermine what you built up together?<br /> +This is not the most fit discussion, Daya,<br /> +To usher in our friend to; tho’ indeed<br /> +I should not disincline to it—for to me<br /> +It is of infinite importance if<br /> +He too—but hark—there’s some one at the +door.<br /> +If it were he—stay—hush—</p> +<p style="text-align: right">(<i>A Slave who shows in the +Templar</i>.)</p> +<p class="poetry"> They +are—here this way.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span class="smcap">Templar</span>, +<span class="smcap">Daya</span>, <i>and</i> <span +class="smcap">Recha</span>.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">RECHA.</span></p> +<p style="text-align: center">(<i>starts</i>—<i>composes +herself</i>—<i>then offers to fall at his feet</i>)</p> +<p class="poetry">’Tis he—my saviour! ah!</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">TEMPLAR.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> This to +avoid<br /> +Have I alone deferred my call so long.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">RECHA.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">Yes, at the feet of this proud man, I will<br +/> +Thank—God alone. The man will have no thanks;<br /> +No more than will the bucket which was busy<br /> +In showering watery damps upon the flame.<br /> +That was filled, emptied—but to me, to thee<br /> +What boots it? So the man—he too, he too<br /> +Was thrust, he knew not how, and the fire.<br /> +I dropped, by chance, into his open arm.<br /> +By chance, remained there—like a fluttering spark<br /> +Upon his mantle—till—I know not what<br /> +Pushed us both from amid the conflagration.<br /> +What room is here for thanks? How oft in Europe<br /> +Wine urges men to very different deeds!<br /> +Templars must so behave; it is their office,<br /> +Like better taught or rather handier spaniels,<br /> +To fetch from out of fire, as out of water.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">TEMPLAR.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">Oh Daya, Daya, if, in hasty moments<br /> +Of care and of chagrin, my unchecked temper<br /> +Betrayed me into rudeness, why convey<br /> +To her each idle word that left my tongue?<br /> +This is too piercing a revenge indeed;<br /> +Yet if henceforth thou wilt interpret better—</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">DAYA.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">I question if these barbed words, Sir +Knight,<br /> +Alighted so, as to have much disserved you.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">RECHA.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">How, you had cares, and were more covetous<br +/> +Of them than of your life?</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">TEMPLAR.</span></p> +<p style="text-align: center">(<i>who has been viewing her with +wonder and perturbation</i>).</p> +<p class="poetry"> Thou best of beings,<br /> +How is my soul ’twixt eye and ear divided!<br /> +No: ’twas not she I snatched from amid fire:<br /> +For who could know her and forbear to do it?—<br /> +Indeed—disguised by terror—</p> +<p style="text-align: right">[<i>Pause</i>: <i>during which he +gazes on her as it were entranced</i>.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">RECHA.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> But to +me<br /> +You still appear the same you then appeared.</p> +<p style="text-align: right">[<i>Another like +pause</i>—<i>till she resumes</i>, <i>in order to interrupt +him</i>.</p> +<p class="poetry">Now tell me, knight, where have you been so +long?<br /> +It seems as might I ask—where are you now?</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">TEMPLAR.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">I am—where I perhaps ought not to be.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">RECHA.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">Where have you been? where you perhaps ought +not—<br /> +That is not well.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">TEMPLAR.</span></p> +<p +class="poetry"> Up—how +d’ye call the mountain?<br /> +Up Sinai.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">RECHA.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> Oh, that’s very +fortunate.<br /> +Now I shall learn for certain if ’tis true—</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">TEMPLAR.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">What! if the spot may yet be seen where +Moses<br /> +Stood before God; when first—</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">RECHA.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> No, no, not +that.<br /> +Where’er he stood, ’twas before God. Of this<br +/> +I know enough already. Is it true,<br /> +I wish to learn from you that—that it is not<br /> +By far so troublesome to climb this mountain<br /> +As to get down—for on all mountains else,<br /> +That I have seen, quite the reverse obtains.<br /> +Well, knight, why will you turn away from me?<br /> +Not look at me?</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">TEMPLAR.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> Because I wish to hear +you.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">RECHA.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">Because you do not wish me to perceive<br /> +You smile at my simplicity—You smile<br /> +That I can think of nothing more important<br /> +To ask about the holy hill of hills:<br /> +Do you not?</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">TEMPLAR.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> Must I meet those eyes +again?<br /> +And now you cast them down, and damp the smile—<br /> +Am I in doubtful motions of the features<br /> +To read what I so plainly hear—what you<br /> +So audibly declare; yet will conceal?—<br /> +How truly said thy father “Do but know her!”</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">RECHA.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">Who has—of whom—said so to +thee?</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">TEMPLAR.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> Thy +father<br /> +Said to me “Do but know her,” and of thee.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">DAYA.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">And have not I too said so, times and oft.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">TEMPLAR.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">But where is then your father—with the +sultan?</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">RECHA.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">So I suppose.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">TEMPLAR.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> Yet there? Oh, I +forget,<br /> +He cannot be there still. He is waiting for me<br /> +Most certainly below there by the cloister.<br /> +’Twas so, I think, we had agreed, Forgive,<br /> +I go in quest of him.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">DAYA.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> Knight, +I’ll do that.<br /> +Wait here, I’ll bring him hither instantly.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">TEMPLAR.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">Oh no—Oh no. He is expecting me.<br +/> +Besides—you are not aware what may have happened.<br /> +’Tis not unlikely he may be involved<br /> +With Saladin—you do not know the sultan—<br /> +In some unpleasant—I must go, there’s danger<br /> +If I forbear.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">RECHA.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> Danger—of what? of +what?</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">TEMPLAR.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">Danger for me, for thee, for him; unless<br /> +I go at once.</p> +<p style="text-align: right">[<i>Goes</i>.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span class="smcap">Recha</span> +<i>and</i> <span class="smcap">Daya</span>.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">RECHA.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> What is the matter, Daya?<br +/> +So quick—what comes across him, drives him hence?</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">DAYA.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">Let him alone, I think it no bad sign.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">RECHA.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">Sign—and of what?</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">DAYA.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> That +something passes in him.<br /> +It boils—but it must not boil over. Leave +him—<br /> +Now ’tis your turn.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">RECHA.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> My turn? Thou dost +become<br /> +Like him incomprehensible to me.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">DAYA.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">Now you may give him back all that unrest<br /> +He once occasioned. Be not too severe,<br /> +Nor too vindictive.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">RECHA.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> Daya, what +you mean<br /> +You must know best.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">DAYA.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> And pray +are you again<br /> +So calm.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">RECHA.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> I am—yes that I am.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">DAYA.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> At least<br +/> +Own—that this restlessness has given you pleasure,<br /> +And that you have to thank his want of ease<br /> +For what of ease you now enjoy.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">RECHA.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> Of that<br +/> +I am unconscious. All I could confess<br /> +Were, that it does seem strange unto myself,<br /> +How, in this bosom, such a pleasing calm<br /> +Can suddenly succeed to such a tossing.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">DAYA.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">His countenance, his speech, his manner, has<br +/> +By this the satiated thee.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">RECHA.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> Satiated,<br /> +I will not say—not by a good deal yet.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">DAYA.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">But satisfied the more impatient craving.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">RECHA.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">Well, well, if you must have it so.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">DAYA.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> I? no.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">RECHA.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">To me he will be ever dear, will ever<br /> +Remain more dear than my own life; altho’<br /> +My pulse no longer flutters at his name,<br /> +My heart no longer, when I think about him,<br /> +Beats stronger, swifter. What have I been prating?<br /> +Come, Daya, let us once more to the window<br /> +Which overlooks the palms.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">DAYA.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> So that +’tis not<br /> +Yet satisfied—the more impatient craving.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">RECHA.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">Now I shall see the palm-trees once again,<br +/> +Not him alone amid them.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">DAYA.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> This cold +fit<br /> +Is but the harbinger of other fevers.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">RECHA.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">Cold—cold—I am not cold; but I +observe not<br /> +Less willingly what I behold with calmness.</p> +<h4><span class="smcap">Scene</span>.—An Audience Room in +the Sultan’s Palace.</h4> +<p style="text-align: center"><span class="smcap">Sittah</span>: +<span class="smcap">Saladin</span> <i>giving directions at the +door</i>.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">SALADIN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">Here, introduce the Jew, whene’er he +comes—<br /> +He seems in no great haste.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">SITTAH.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> May be at +first<br /> +He was not in the way.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">SALADIN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> Ah, sister, sister!</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">SITTAH.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">You seem as if a combat were impending.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">SALADIN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">With weapons that I have not learnt to +wield.<br /> +Must I disguise myself? I use precautions?<br /> +I lay a snare? When, where gained I that knowledge?<br /> +And this, for what? To fish for money—money—<br +/> +For money from a Jew—and to such arts<br /> +Must Saladin descend at last to come at<br /> +The least of little things?</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">SITTAH.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> Each little +thing<br /> +Despised too much finds methods of revenge.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">SALADIN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">’Tis but too true. And if this Jew +should prove<br /> +The fair good man, as once the dervis painted—</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">SITTAH.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">Then difficulties cease. A snare +concerns<br /> +The avaricious, cautious, fearful Jew;<br /> +And not the good wise man: for he is ours<br /> +Without a snare. Then the delight of hearing<br /> +How such a man speaks out; with what stern strength<br /> +He tears the net, or with what prudent foresight<br /> +He one by one undoes the tangled meshes;<br /> +That will be all to boot—</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">SALADIN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> That I +shall joy in.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">SITTAH.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">What then should trouble thee? For if he +be<br /> +One of the many only, a mere Jew,<br /> +You will not blush to such a one to seem<br /> +A man, as he thinks all mankind to be.<br /> +One, that to him should bear a better aspect,<br /> +Would seem a fool—a dupe.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">SALADIN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> So that I +must<br /> +Act badly, lest the bad think badly of me.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">SITTAH.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">Yes, if you call it acting badly, brother,<br +/> +To use a thing after its kind.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">SALADIN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> There’s nothing<br /> +That woman’s wit invents it can’t embellish.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">SITTAH.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">Embellish—</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">SALADIN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> But their fine-wrought +filligree<br /> +In my rude hand would break. It is for those<br /> +That can contrive them to employ such weapons:<br /> +They ask a practised wrist. But chance what may,<br /> +Well as I can—</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">SITTAH.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> Trust not yourself too +little.<br /> +I answer for you, if you have the will.<br /> +Such men as you would willingly persuade us<br /> +It was their swords, their swords alone that raised them.<br /> +The lion’s apt to be ashamed of hunting<br /> +In fellowship of the fox—’tis of his fellow<br /> +Not of the cunning that he is ashamed.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">SALADIN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">You women would so gladly level man<br /> +Down to yourselves. Go, I have got my lesson.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">SITTAH.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">What—<i>must</i> I go?</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">SALADIN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> Had you the +thought of staying?</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">SITTAH.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">In your immediate presence not indeed,<br /> +But in the by-room.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">SALADIN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> You could +like to listen.<br /> +Not that, my sister, if I may insist.<br /> +Away! the curtain rustles—he is come.<br /> +Beware of staying—I’ll be on the watch.</p> +<p style="text-align: right">[<i>While Sittah retires through one +door</i>, <i>Nathan enters at another</i>, <i>and Saladin seats +himself</i>.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span class="smcap">Saladin</span> +<i>and</i> <span class="smcap">Nathan</span>.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">SALADIN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">Draw nearer, Jew, yet nearer; here, quite by +me,<br /> +Without all fear.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">NATHAN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> Remain that for thy foes!</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">SALADIN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">Your name is Nathan?</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">NATHAN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> Yes.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">SALADIN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> Nathan the +wise?</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">NATHAN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">No.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">SALADIN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> If not thou, the people calls +thee so.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">NATHAN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">May be, the people.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">SALADIN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> Fancy not +that I<br /> +Think of the people’s voice contemptuously;<br /> +I have been wishing much to know the man<br /> +Whom it has named the wise.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">NATHAN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> And if it +named<br /> +Him so in scorn. If wise meant only prudent.<br /> +And prudent, one who knows his interest well.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">SALADIN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">Who knows his real interest, thou must +mean.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">NATHAN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">Then were the interested the most prudent,<br +/> +Then wise and prudent were the same.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">SALADIN.</span></p> +<p +class="poetry"> I +hear<br /> +You proving what your speeches contradict.<br /> +You know man’s real interests, which the people<br /> +Knows not—at least have studied how to know them.<br /> +That alone makes the sage.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">NATHAN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> Which each imagines<br /> +Himself to be.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">SALADIN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> Of modesty enough!<br /> +Ever to meet it, where one seeks to hear<br /> +Dry truth, is vexing. Let us to the purpose—<br /> +But, Jew, sincere and open—</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">NATHAN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> I will serve thee<br /> +So as to merit, prince, thy further notice.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">SALADIN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">Serve me—how?</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">NATHAN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> Thou shalt have the best I +bring.<br /> +Shalt have them cheap.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">SALADIN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> What speak you of?—your +wares?<br /> +My sister shall be called to bargain with you<br /> +For them (so much for the sly listener), I<br /> +Have nothing to transact now with the merchant.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">NATHAN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">Doubtless then you would learn, what, on my +journey,<br /> +I noticed of the motions of the foe,<br /> +Who stirs anew. If unreserved I may—</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">SALADIN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">Neither was that the object of my sending:<br +/> +I know what I have need to know already.<br /> +In short I willed your presence—</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">NATHAN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> Sultan, +order.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">SALADIN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">To gain instruction quite on other points.<br +/> +Since you are a man so wise, tell me which law,<br /> +Which faith appears to you the better?</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">NATHAN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> Sultan,<br +/> +I am a Jew.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">SALADIN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> And I a Mussulman:<br /> +The Christian stands between us. Of these three<br /> +Religions only one came be the true.<br /> +A man, like you, remains not just where birth<br /> +Has chanced to cast him, or, if he remains there,<br /> +Does it from insight, choice, from grounds of preference.<br /> +Share then with me your insight—let me hear<br /> +The grounds of preference, which I have wanted<br /> +The leisure to examine—learn the choice,<br /> +These grounds have motived, that it may be mine.<br /> +In confidence I ask it. How you startle,<br /> +And weigh me with your eye! It may well be<br /> +I’m the first sultan to whom this caprice,<br /> +Methinks not quite unworthy of a sultan,<br /> +Has yet occurred. Am I not? Speak +then—Speak.<br /> +Or do you, to collect yourself, desire<br /> +Some moments of delay—I give them you—<br /> +(Whether she’s listening?—I must know of her<br /> +If I’ve done right.) Reflect—I’ll soon +return—</p> +<p style="text-align: right">[<i>Saladin steps into the room to +which Sittah had retired</i>.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">NATHAN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">Strange! how is this? what wills the sultan of +me?<br /> +I came prepared with cash—he asks truth. Truth?<br /> +As if truth too were cash—a coin disused<br /> +That goes by weight—indeed ’tis some such +thing—<br /> +But a new coin, known by the stamp at once,<br /> +To be flung down and told upon the counter,<br /> +It is not that. Like gold in bags tied up,<br /> +So truth lies hoarded in the wise man’s head<br /> +To be brought out.—Which now in this transaction<br /> +Which of us plays the Jew; he asks for truth,<br /> +Is truth what he requires, his aim, his end?<br /> +That this is but the glue to lime a snare<br /> +Ought not to be suspected, ’twere too little,<br /> +Yet what is found too little for the great—<br /> +In fact, through hedge and pale to stalk at once<br /> +Into one’s field beseems not—friends look round,<br +/> +Seek for the path, ask leave to pass the gate—<br /> +I must be cautious. Yet to damp him back,<br /> +And be the stubborn Jew is not the thing;<br /> +And wholly to throw off the Jew, still less.<br /> +For if no Jew he might with right inquire—<br /> +Why not a Mussulman—Yes—that may serve me.<br /> +Not children only can be quieted<br /> +With stories. Ha! he comes—well, let him come.</p> +<p style="text-align: center" class="poetry"><span +class="GutSmall">SALADIN</span> (<i>returning</i>).</p> +<p class="poetry">So, there, the field is clear, I’m not +too quick,<br /> +Thou hast bethought thyself as much as need is,<br /> +Speak, no one hears.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">NATHAN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> Might the whole world but +hear us.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">SALADIN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">Is Nathan of his cause so confident?<br /> +Yes, that I call the sage—to veil no truth,<br /> +For truth to hazard all things, life and goods.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">NATHAN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">Aye, when ’tis necessary and when +useful.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">SALADIN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">Henceforth I hope I shall with reason bear<br +/> +One of my titles—“Betterer of the world<br /> +And of the law.”</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">NATHAN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> In truth a noble title.<br /> +But, sultan, e’er I quite unfold myself<br /> +Allow me to relate a tale.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">SALADIN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> Why not?<br +/> +I always was a friend of tales well told.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">NATHAN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">Well told, that’s not precisely my +affair.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">SALADIN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">Again so proudly modest, come begin.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">NATHAN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">In days of yore, there dwelt in east a man<br +/> +Who from a valued hand received a ring<br /> +Of endless worth: the stone of it an opal,<br /> +That shot an ever-changing tint: moreover,<br /> +It had the hidden virtue him to render<br /> +Of God and man beloved, who in this view,<br /> +And this persuasion, wore it. Was it strange<br /> +The eastern man ne’er drew it off his finger,<br /> +And studiously provided to secure it<br /> +For ever to his house. Thus—He bequeathed it;<br /> +First, to the <i>most beloved</i> of his sons,<br /> +Ordained that he again should leave the ring<br /> +To the <i>most dear</i> among his children—and<br /> +That without heeding birth, the <i>favourite</i> son,<br /> +In virtue of the ring alone, should always<br /> +Remain the lord o’ th’ house—You hear me, +Sultan?</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">SALADIN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">I understand thee—on.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">NATHAN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> From son to son,<br /> +At length this ring descended to a father,<br /> +Who had three sons, alike obedient to him;<br /> +Whom therefore he could not but love alike.<br /> +At times seemed this, now that, at times the third,<br /> +(Accordingly as each apart received<br /> +The overflowings of his heart) most worthy<br /> +To heir the ring, which with good-natured weakness<br /> +He privately to each in turn had promised.<br /> +This went on for a while. But death approached,<br /> +And the good father grew embarrassed. So<br /> +To disappoint two sons, who trust his promise,<br /> +He could not bear. What’s to be done. He +sends<br /> +In secret to a jeweller, of whom,<br /> +Upon the model of the real ring,<br /> +He might bespeak two others, and commanded<br /> +To spare nor cost nor pains to make them like,<br /> +Quite like the true one. This the artist managed.<br /> +The rings were brought, and e’en the father’s eye<br +/> +Could not distinguish which had been the model.<br /> +Quite overjoyed he summons all his sons,<br /> +Takes leave of each apart, on each bestows<br /> +His blessing and his ring, and dies—Thou hearest me?</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">SALADIN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">I hear, I hear, come finish with thy tale;<br +/> +Is it soon ended?</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">NATHAN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> It is +ended, Sultan,<br /> +For all that follows may be guessed of course.<br /> +Scarce is the father dead, each with his ring<br /> +Appears, and claims to be the lord o’ th’ house.<br +/> +Comes question, strife, complaint—all to no end;<br /> +For the true ring could no more be distinguished<br /> +Than now can—the true faith.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">SALADIN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> How, how, +is that<br /> +To be the answer to my query?</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">NATHAN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> No,<br /> +But it may serve as my apology;<br /> +If I can’t venture to decide between<br /> +Rings, which the father got expressly made,<br /> +That they might not be known from one another.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">SALADIN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">The rings—don’t trifle with me; I +must think<br /> +That the religions which I named can be<br /> +Distinguished, e’en to raiment, drink and food,</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">NATHAN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">And only not as to their grounds of proof.<br +/> +Are not all built alike on history,<br /> +Traditional, or written. History<br /> +Must be received on trust—is it not so?<br /> +In whom now are we likeliest to put trust?<br /> +In our own people surely, in those men<br /> +Whose blood we are, in them, who from our childhood<br /> +Have given us proofs of love, who ne’er deceived us,<br /> +Unless ’twere wholesomer to be deceived.<br /> +How can I less believe in my forefathers<br /> +Than thou in thine. How can I ask of thee<br /> +To own that thy forefathers falsified<br /> +In order to yield mine the praise of truth.<br /> +The like of Christians.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">SALADIN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> By the living God,<br /> +The man is in the right, I must be silent.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">NATHAN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">Now let us to our rings return once more.<br /> +As said, the sons complained. Each to the judge<br /> +Swore from his father’s hand immediately<br /> +To have received the ring, as was the case;<br /> +After he had long obtained the father’s promise,<br /> +One day to have the ring, as also was.<br /> +The father, each asserted, could to him<br /> +Not have been false, rather than so suspect<br /> +Of such a father, willing as he might be<br /> +With charity to judge his brethren, he<br /> +Of treacherous forgery was bold t’ accuse them.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">SALADIN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">Well, and the judge, I’m eager now to +hear<br /> +What thou wilt make him say. Go on, go on.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">NATHAN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">The judge said, If ye summon not the father<br +/> +Before my seat, I cannot give a sentence.<br /> +Am I to guess enigmas? Or expect ye<br /> +That the true ring should here unseal its lips?<br /> +But hold—you tell me that the real ring<br /> +Enjoys the hidden power to make the wearer<br /> +Of God and man beloved; let that decide.<br /> +Which of you do two brothers love the best?<br /> +You’re silent. Do these love-exciting rings<br /> +Act inward only, not without? Does each<br /> +Love but himself? Ye’re all deceived deceivers,<br /> +None of your rings is true. The real ring<br /> +Perhaps is gone. To hide or to supply<br /> +Its loss, your father ordered three for one.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">SALADIN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">O charming, charming!</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">NATHAN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> And (the judge continued)<br +/> +If you will take advice in lieu of sentence,<br /> +This is my counsel to you, to take up<br /> +The matter where it stands. If each of you<br /> +Has had a ring presented by his father,<br /> +Let each believe his own the real ring.<br /> +’Tis possible the father chose no longer<br /> +To tolerate the one ring’s tyranny;<br /> +And certainly, as he much loved you all,<br /> +And loved you all alike, it could not please him<br /> +By favouring one to be of two the oppressor.<br /> +Let each feel honoured by this free affection.<br /> +Unwarped of prejudice; let each endeavour<br /> +To vie with both his brothers in displaying<br /> +The virtue of his ring; assist its might<br /> +With gentleness, benevolence, forbearance,<br /> +With inward resignation to the godhead,<br /> +And if the virtues of the ring continue<br /> +To show themselves among your children’s children,<br /> +After a thousand thousand years, appear<br /> +Before this judgment-seat—a greater one<br /> +Than I shall sit upon it, and decide.<br /> +So spake the modest judge.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">SALADIN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> God!</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">NATHAN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> Saladin,<br +/> +Feel’st thou thyself this wiser, promised man?</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">SALADIN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">I dust, I nothing, God!</p> +<p style="text-align: right">[<i>Precipitates himself upon +Nathan</i>, <i>and takes hold of his hand</i>, <i>which he does +not quit the remainder of the scene</i>.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">NATHAN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> What moves thee, Sultan?</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">SALADIN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">Nathan, my dearest Nathan, ’tis not +yet<br /> +The judge’s thousand thousand years are past,<br /> +His judgment-seat’s not mine. Go, go, but love +me.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">NATHAN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">Has Saladin then nothing else to order?</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">SALADIN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">No.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">NATHAN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> Nothing?</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">SALADIN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> Nothing in +the least, and wherefore?</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">NATHAN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">I could have wished an opportunity<br /> +To lay a prayer before you.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">SALADIN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> Is there +need<br /> +Of opportunity for that? Speak freely.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">NATHAN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">I come from a long journey from collecting<br +/> +Debts, and I’ve almost of hard cash too much;<br /> +The times look perilous—I know not where<br /> +To lodge it safely—I was thinking thou,<br /> +For coming wars require large sums, couldst use it.</p> +<p style="text-align: center" class="poetry"><span +class="GutSmall">SALADIN</span> (<i>fixing Nathan</i>).</p> +<p class="poetry">Nathan, I ask not if thou sawst Al-Hafi,<br /> +I’ll not examine if some shrewd suspicion<br /> +Spurs thee to make this offer of thyself.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">NATHAN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">Suspicion—</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">SALADIN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> I deserve this offer. +Pardon,<br /> +For what avails concealment, I acknowledge<br /> +I was about—</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">NATHAN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> To ask the same of me?</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">SALADIN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">Yes.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">NATHAN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> Then ’tis well +we’re both accommodated.<br /> +That I can’t send thee all I have of treasure<br /> +Arises from the templar; thou must know him,<br /> +I have a weighty debt to pay to him.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">SALADIN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">A templar! How, thou dost not with thy +gold<br /> +Support my direst foes.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">NATHAN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> I speak of him<br /> +Whose life the sultan—</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">SALADIN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> What art thou recalling?<br +/> +I had forgot the youth, whence is he, knowest thou?</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">NATHAN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">Hast thou not heard then how thy clemency<br /> +To him has fallen on me. He at the risk<br /> +Of his new-spared existence, from the flames<br /> +Rescued my daughter.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">SALADIN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> Ha! Has he done +that;<br /> +He looked like one that would—my brother too,<br /> +Whom he’s so like, bad done it. Is he here still?<br +/> +Bring him to me—I have so often talked<br /> +To Sittah of this brother, whom she knew not,<br /> +That I must let her see his counterfeit.<br /> +Go fetch him. How a single worthy action,<br /> +Though but of whim or passion born, gives rise<br /> +To other blessings! Fetch him.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">NATHAN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> In an +instant.<br /> +The rest remains as settled.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">SALADIN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> O, I wish<br /> +I had let my sister listen. Well, I’ll to her.<br /> +How shall I make her privy to all this?</p> +<h4><span class="smcap">Scene</span>.—The Place of +Palms.</h4> +<p style="text-align: center">The <span +class="smcap">Templar</span> <i>walking and agitated</i>.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">TEMPLAR.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">Here let the weary victim pant +awhile.—<br /> +Yet would I not have time to ascertain<br /> +What passes in me; would not snuff beforehand<br /> +The coming storm. ’Tis sure I fled in vain;<br /> +But more than fly I could not do, whatever<br /> +Comes of it. Ah! to ward it off—the blow<br /> +Was given so suddenly. Long, much, I strove<br /> +To keep aloof; but vainly. Once to see her—<br /> +Her, whom I surely did not court the sight of,<br /> +To see her, and to form the resolution,<br /> +Never to lose sight of her here again,<br /> +Was one—The resolution?—Not ’tis will,<br /> +Fixt purpose, made (for I was passive in it)<br /> +Sealed, doomed. To see her, and to feel myself<br /> +Bound to her, wove into her very being,<br /> +Was one—remains one. Separate from her<br /> +To live is quite unthinkable—is death.<br /> +And wheresoever after death we be,<br /> +There too the thought were death. And is this love?<br /> +Yet so in troth the templar loves—so—so—<br /> +The Christian loves the Jewess. What of that?<br /> +Here in this holy land, and therefore holy<br /> +And dear to me, I have already doffed<br /> +Some prejudices.—Well—what says my vow?<br /> +As templar I am dead, was dead to that<br /> +From the same hour which made me prisoner<br /> +To Saladin. But is the head he gave me<br /> +My old one? No. It knows no word of what<br /> +Was prated into yon, of what had bound it.<br /> +It is a better; for its patrial sky<br /> +Fitter than yon. I feel—I’m conscious of it,<br +/> +With this I now begin to think, as here<br /> +My father must have thought; if tales of him<br /> +Have not been told untruly. Tales—why tales?<br /> +They’re credible—more credible than ever—<br /> +Now that I’m on the brink of stumbling, where<br /> +He fell. He fell? I’d rather fall with men,<br +/> +Than stand with children. His example pledges<br /> +His approbation, and whose approbation<br /> +Have I else need of? Nathan’s? Surely of his<br +/> +Encouragement, applause, I’ve little need<br /> +To doubt—O what a Jew is he! yet easy<br /> +To pass for the mere Jew. He’s +coming—swiftly—<br /> +And looks delighted—who leaves Saladin<br /> +With other looks? Hoa, Nathan!</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span class="smcap">Nathan</span> +<i>and</i> <span class="smcap">Templar</span>.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">NATHAN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> Are you +there?</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">TEMPLAR.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">Your visit to the sultan has been long.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">NATHAN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">Not very long; my going was indeed<br /> +Too much delayed. Troth, Conrade, this man’s fame<br +/> +Outstrips him not. His fame is but his shadow.<br /> +But before all I have to tell you—</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">TEMPLAR.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> What?</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">NATHAN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">That he would speak with you, and that +directly.<br /> +First to my house, where I would give some orders,<br /> +Then we’ll together to the sultan.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">TEMPLAR.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> Nathan,<br /> +I enter not thy doors again before—</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">NATHAN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">Then you’ve been there this +while—have spoken with her.<br /> +How do you like my Recha?</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">TEMPLAR.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> Words cannot tell—<br +/> +Gaze on her once again—I never will—<br /> +Never—no never: unless thou wilt promise<br /> +That I for ever, ever, may behold her.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">NATHAN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">How should I take this?</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">TEMPLAR</span> (<i>falling suddenly upon his +neck</i>).</p> +<p class="poetry">Nathan—O my father!</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">NATHAN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">Young man!</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">TEMPLAR</span> (<i>quitting him as +suddenly</i>).</p> +<p class="poetry"> Not son?—I pray thee, +Nathan—ha!</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">NATHAN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">Thou dear young man!</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">TEMPLAR.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> Not +son?—I pray thee, Nathan,<br /> +Conjure thee by the strongest bonds of nature,<br /> +Prefer not those of later date, the weaker.—<br /> +Be it enough to thee to be a man!<br /> +Push me not from thee!</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">NATHAN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> Dearest, +dearest friend!—</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">TEMPLAR.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">Not son? Not son? Not +even—even if<br /> +Thy daughter’s gratitude had in her bosom<br /> +Prepared the way for love—not even if<br /> +Both wait thy nod alone to be but one?—<br /> +You do not speak?</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">NATHAN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> Young knight, you have +surprised me.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">TEMPLAR.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">Do I surprise thee—thus surprise thee, +Nathan,<br /> +With thy own thought? Canst thou not in my mouth<br /> +Know it again? Do I surprise you?</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">NATHAN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> Ere<br /> +I know, which of the Stauffens was your father?</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">TEMPLAR.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">What say you, Nathan?—And in such a +moment<br /> +Is curiosity your only feeling?</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">NATHAN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">For see, once I myself well knew a Stauffen,<br +/> +Whose name was Conrade.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">TEMPLAR.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> Well, and +if my father<br /> +Was bearer of that name?</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">NATHAN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> Indeed?</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">TEMPLAR.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> My name<br +/> +Is from my father’s, Conrade.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">NATHAN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> Then thy +father<br /> +Was not my Conrade. He was, like thyself,<br /> +A templar, never wedded.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">TEMPLAR.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> For all that—</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">NATHAN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">How?</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">TEMPLAR.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> For all that he may have been +my father.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">NATHAN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">You joke.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">TEMPLAR.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> And you are captious. +Boots it then<br /> +To be true-born? Does bastard wound thine ear?<br /> +The race is not to be despised: but hold,<br /> +Spare me my pedigree; I’ll spare thee thine.<br /> +Not that I doubt thy genealogic tree.<br /> +O, God forbid! You may attest it all<br /> +As far as Abraham back; and backwarder<br /> +I know it to my heart—I’ll swear to it also.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">NATHAN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">Knight, you grow bitter. Do I merit +this?<br /> +Have I refused you ought? I’ve but forborne<br /> +To close with you at the first word—no more.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">TEMPLAR.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">Indeed—no more? O then +forgive—</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">NATHAN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> ’Tis +well.<br /> +Do but come with me.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">TEMPLAR.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> Whither? To thy +house?<br /> +No? there not—there not: ’tis a burning soil.<br /> +Here I await thee, go. Am I again<br /> +To see her, I shall see her times enough:<br /> +If not I have already gazed too much.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">NATHAN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">I’ll try to be soon back.</p> +<p style="text-align: right">[<i>Goes</i>.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">TEMPLAR.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> Too much indeed—<br /> +Strange that the human brain, so infinite<br /> +Of comprehension, yet at times will fill<br /> +Quite full, and all at once, of a mere trifle—<br /> +No matter what it teems with. Patience! Patience!<br +/> +The soul soon calms again, th’ upboiling stuff<br /> +Makes itself room and brings back light and order.<br /> +Is this then the first time I love? Or was<br /> +What by that name I knew before, not love—<br /> +And this, this love alone that now I feel?</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span class="smcap">Daya</span> +<i>and</i> <span class="smcap">Templar</span>.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">DAYA.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">Sir knight, sir knight.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">TEMPLAR.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> Who calls? ha, Daya, you?</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">DAYA.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">I managed to slip by him. No, come +here<br /> +(He’ll see us where you stand) behind this tree.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">TEMPLAR.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">Why so mysterious? What’s the +matter, Daya?</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">DAYA.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">Yes, ’tis a secret that has brought me to +you<br /> +A twofold secret. One I only know,<br /> +The other only you. Let’s interchange,<br /> +Intrust yours first to me, then I’ll tell mine.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">TEMPLAR.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">With pleasure when I’m able to +discover<br /> +What you call me. But that yours will explain. <br /> +Begin—</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">DAYA.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">That is not fair, yours first, sir knight;<br +/> +For be assured my secret serves you not<br /> +Unless I have yours first. If I sift it out<br /> +You’ll not have trusted me, and then my secret<br /> +Is still my own, and yours lost all for nothing.<br /> +But, knight, how can you men so fondly fancy<br /> +You ever hide such secrets from us women.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">TEMPLAR.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">Secrets we often are unconscious of.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">DAYA.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">May be—So then I must at last be +friendly,<br /> +And break it to you. Tell me now, whence came it<br /> +That all at once you started up abruptly<br /> +And in the twinkling of an eye were fled?<br /> +That you left us without one civil speech!<br /> +That you return no more with Nathan to us—<br /> +Has Recha then made such a slight impression,<br /> +Or made so deep a one? I penetrate you.<br /> +Think you that on a limed twig the poor bird<br /> +Can flutter cheerfully, or hop at ease<br /> +With its wing pinioned? Come, come, in one word<br /> +Acknowledge to me plainly that you love her,<br /> +Love her to madness, and I’ll tell you what.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">TEMPLAR.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">To madness, oh, you’re very +penetrating.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">DAYA.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">Grant me the love, and I’ll give up the +madness.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">TEMPLAR.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">Because that must be understood of +course—<br /> +A templar love a Jewess—</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">DAYA.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> Seems +absurd,<br /> +But often there’s more fitness in a thing<br /> +Than we at once discern; nor were this time<br /> +The first, when through an unexpected path<br /> +The Saviour drew his children on to him<br /> +Across the tangled maze of human life.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">TEMPLAR.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">So solemn that—(and yet if in the +stead<br /> +Of Saviour, I were to say Providence,<br /> +It would sound true) you make me curious, Daya,<br /> +Which I’m unwont to be.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">DAYA.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> This is the +place<br /> +For miracles</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">TEMPLAR.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> For wonders—well and +good—<br /> +Can it be otherwise, where the whole world<br /> +Presses as toward a centre. My dear Daya,<br /> +Consider what you asked of me as owned;<br /> +That I do love her—that I can’t imagine<br /> +How I should live without her—that</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">DAYA.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> Indeed!<br /> +Then, knight, swear to me you will call her yours,<br /> +Make both her present and eternal welfare.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">TEMPLAR.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">And how, how can I, can I swear to do<br /> +What is not in my power?</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">DAYA.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> ’Tis +in your power,<br /> +A single word will put it in your power.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">TEMPLAR.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">So that her father shall not be against it.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">DAYA.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">Her father—father? he shall be +compelled.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">TEMPLAR.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">As yet he is not fallen among thieves—<br +/> +Compelled?</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">DAYA.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> Aye to be willing that you +should.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">TEMPLAR.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">Compelled and willing—what if I inform +thee<br /> +That I have tried to touch this string already,<br /> +It vibrates not responsive.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">DAYA.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> He refused +thee?</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">TEMPLAR.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">He answered in a tone of such discordance<br /> +That I was hurt.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">DAYA.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> What do you say? How, +you<br /> +Betrayed the shadow of a wish for Recha,<br /> +And he did not spring up for joy, drew back,<br /> +Drew coldly back, made difficulties?</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">TEMPLAR.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> Almost.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">DAYA.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">Well then I’ll not deliberate a +moment.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">TEMPLAR.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">And yet you are deliberating still.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">DAYA.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">That man was always else so good, so kind,<br +/> +I am so deeply in his debt. Why, why<br /> +Would he not listen to you? God’s my witness<br /> +That my heart bleeds to come about him thus.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">TEMPLAR.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">I pray you, Daya, once for all, to end<br /> +This dire uncertainty. But if you doubt<br /> +Whether what ’tis your purpose to reveal<br /> +Be right or wrong, be praiseworthy or shameful,<br /> +Speak not—I will forget that you have had<br /> +Something to hide.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">DAYA.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> That spurs me on still +more.<br /> +Then learn that Recha is no Jewess, that<br /> +She is a Christian.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">TEMPLAR.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> I congratulate you,<br /> +’Twas a hard labour, but ’tis out at last;<br /> +The pangs of the delivery won’t hurt you.<br /> +Go on with undiminished zeal, and people<br /> +Heaven, when no longer fit to people earth.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">DAYA.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">How, knight, does my intelligence deserve<br /> +Such bitter scorn? That Recha is a Christian<br /> +On you a Christian templar, and her lover,<br /> +Confers no joy.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">TEMPLAR.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> Particularly as<br /> +She is a Christian of your making, Daya.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">DAYA.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">O, so you understand it—well and +good—<br /> +I wish to find out him that might convert her.<br /> +It is her fate long since to have been that<br /> +Which she is spoiled for being.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">TEMPLAR.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> Do +explain—<br /> +Or go.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">DAYA.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> She is a Christian +child—of Christian<br /> +Parents was born and is baptised.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">TEMPLAR</span> (<i>hastily</i>).</p> +<p class="poetry"> And +Nathan—</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">DAYA.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">Is not her father.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">TEMPLAR.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> Nathan not her +father—<br /> +And are you sure of what you say?</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">DAYA.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> I am,<br /> +It is a truth has cost me tears of blood.<br /> +No, he is not her father.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">TEMPLAR.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> And has only<br /> +Brought her up as his daughter, educated<br /> +The Christian child a Jewess.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">DAYA.</span></p> +<p +class="poetry"> Certainly.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">TEMPLAR.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">And she is unacquainted with her birth?<br /> +Has never learnt from him that she was born<br /> +A Christian, and no Jewess?</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">DAYA.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> Never yet.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">TEMPLAR.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">And he not only let the child grow up<br /> +In this mistaken notion, but still leaves<br /> +The woman in it.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">DAYA.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> Aye, alas!</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">TEMPLAR.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> How, +Nathan,<br /> +The wise good Nathan thus allow himself<br /> +To stifle nature’s voice? Thus to misguide<br /> +Upon himself th’ effusions of a heart<br /> +Which to itself abandoned would have formed<br /> +Another bias, Daya—yes, indeed<br /> +You have intrusted an important secret<br /> +That may have consequences—it confounds me,<br /> +I cannot tell what I’ve to do at present,<br /> +Therefore go, give me time, he may come by<br /> +And may surprise us.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">DAYA.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> I should drop for fright.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">TEMPLAR.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">I am not able now to talk, farewell;<br /> +And if you chance to meet him, only say<br /> +That we shall find each other at the sultan’s.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">DAYA.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">Let him not see you’ve any grudge against +him.<br /> +That should be kept to give the proper impulse<br /> +To things at last, and may remove your scruples<br /> +Respecting Recha. But then, if you take her<br /> +Back with you into Europe, let not me<br /> +Be left behind.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">TEMPLAR.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> That we’ll soon settle, +go.</p> +<h3>ACT IV.</h3> +<h4><span class="smcap">Scene</span>.—The Cloister of a +Convent.</h4> +<p style="text-align: center"><i>The</i> <span +class="smcap">Friar</span> <i>alone</i>.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">FRIAR.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">Aye—aye—he’s very +right—the patriarch is—<br /> +In fact of all that he has sent me after<br /> +Not much turns out his way—Why put on me<br /> +Such business and no other? I don’t care<br /> +To coax and wheedle, and to run my nose<br /> +Into all sorts of things, and have a hand<br /> +In all that’s going forward. I did not<br /> +Renounce the world, for my own part, in order<br /> +To be entangled with ’t for other people.</p> +<p style="text-align: center">FRIAR <i>and</i> TEMPLAR.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">TEMPLAR</span> (<i>abruptly entering</i>).</p> +<p class="poetry">Good brother, are you there? I’ve +sought you long.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">FRIAR.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">Me, sir?</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">TEMPLAR.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> What, don’t you +recollect me?</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">FRIAR.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> Oh,<br /> +I thought I never in my life was likely<br /> +To see you any more. For so I hoped<br /> +In God. I did not vastly relish the proposal<br /> +That I was bound to make you. Yes, God knows,<br /> +How little I desired to find a hearing,<br /> +Knows I was inly glad when you refused<br /> +Without a moment’s thought, what of a knight<br /> +Would be unworthy. Are your second thoughts—</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">TEMPLAR.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">So, you already know my purpose, I<br /> +Scarce know myself.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">FRIAR.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> Have you by this reflected<br +/> +That our good patriarch is not so much out,<br /> +That gold and fame in plenty may be got<br /> +By his commission, that a foe’s a foe<br /> +Were he our guardian angel seven times over.<br /> +Have you weighed this ’gainst flesh and blood, and come<br +/> +To strike the bargain he proposed. Ah, God.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">TEMPLAR.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">My dear good man, set your poor heart at +ease.<br /> +Not therefore am I come, not therefore wish<br /> +To see the patriarch in person. Still<br /> +On the first point I think as I then thought,<br /> +Nor would I for aught in the world exchange<br /> +That good opinion, which I once obtained<br /> +From such a worthy upright man as thou art,<br /> +I come to ask your patriarch’s advice—</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span class="GutSmall">FRIAR</span> +(<i>looking round with timidity</i>).</p> +<p class="poetry">Our patriarch’s—you? a knight ask +priest’s advice?</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">TEMPLAR.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">Mine is a priestly business.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">FRIAR.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> Yet the +priests<br /> +Ask not the knights’ advice, be their affair<br /> +Ever so knightly.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">TEMPLAR.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> Therefore one allows them<br +/> +To overshoot themselves, a privilege<br /> +Which such as I don’t vastly envy them.<br /> +Indeed if I were acting for myself,<br /> +Had not t’ account with others, I should care<br /> +But little for his counsel. But some things<br /> +I’d rather do amiss by others’ guidance<br /> +Than by my own aright. And then by this time<br /> +I see religion too is party, and<br /> +He, who believes himself the most impartial,<br /> +Does but uphold the standard of his own,<br /> +Howe’er unconsciously. And since ’tis so,<br /> +So must be well.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">FRIAR.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> I rather shall not answer,<br +/> +For I don’t understand exactly.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">TEMPLAR.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> Yet<br /> +Let me consider what it is precisely<br /> +That I have need of, counsel or decision,<br /> +Simple or learned counsel.—Thank you, brother,<br /> +I thank you for your hint—A patriarch—why?<br /> +Be thou my patriarch; for ’tis the plain Christian,<br /> +Whom in the patriarch I have to consult,<br /> +And not the patriarch in the Christian.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">FRIAR.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> Oh,<br /> +I beg no further—you must quite mistake me;<br /> +He that knows much hath learnt much care, and I<br /> +Devoted me to only one. ’Tis well,<br /> +Most luckily here comes the very man,<br /> +Wait here, stand still—he has perceived you, knight.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">TEMPLAR.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">I’d rather shun him, he is not my man.<br +/> +A thick red smiling prelate—and as stately—</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">FRIAR.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">But you should see him on a gala-day;<br /> +He only comes from visiting the sick.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">TEMPLAR.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">Great Saladin must then be put to shame.</p> +<p style="text-align: right">[<i>The Patriarch</i>, <i>after +marching up one of the aisles in great pomp</i>, <i>draws +near</i>, <i>and makes signs to the Friar</i>, <i>who approaches +him</i>.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="smcap">Patriarch</span>, <span class="smcap">Friar</span>, +<i>and</i> <span class="smcap">Templar</span>.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">PATRIARCH.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">Hither—was that the templar? What +wants he?</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">FRIAR.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">I know not.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">PATRIARCH</span> (<i>approaches the templar</i>, +<i>while the friar and the rest of his train draw back</i>).</p> +<p class="poetry"> So, sir knight, I’m +truly happy<br /> +To meet the brave young man—so very young too—<br /> +Something, God helping, may come of him.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">TEMPLAR.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> More<br /> +Than is already hardly will come of him,<br /> +But less, my reverend father, that may chance.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">PATRIARCH.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">It is my prayer at least a knight so pious<br +/> +May for the cause of Christendom and God<br /> +Long be preserved; nor can that fail, so be<br /> +Young valour will lend ear to aged counsel.<br /> +With what can I be useful any way?</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">TEMPLAR.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">With that which my youth is without, with +counsel.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">PATRIARCH.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">Most willingly, but counsel should be +followed.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">TEMPLAR.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">Surely not blindly?</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">PATRIARCH.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> Who says that? +Indeed<br /> +None should omit to make use of the reason<br /> +Given him by God, in things where it belongs,<br /> +But it belongs not everywhere; for instance,<br /> +If God, by some one of his blessed angels,<br /> +Or other holy minister of his word,<br /> +Deign’d to make known a mean, by which the welfare<br /> +Of Christendom, or of his holy church,<br /> +In some peculiar and especial manner<br /> +Might be promoted or secured, who then<br /> +Shall venture to rise up, and try by reason<br /> +The will of him who has created reason,<br /> +Measure th’ eternal laws of heaven by<br /> +The little rules of a vain human honour?—<br /> +But of all this enough. What is it then<br /> +On which our counsel is desired?</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">TEMPLAR.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> Suppose,<br /> +My reverend father, that a Jew possessed<br /> +An only child, a girl we’ll say, whom he<br /> +With fond attention forms to every virtue,<br /> +And loves more than his very soul; a child<br /> +Who by her pious love requites his goodness.<br /> +And now suppose it whispered—say to me—<br /> +This girl is not the daughter of the Jew,<br /> +He picked up, purchased, stole her in her childhood—<br /> +That she was born of Christians and baptised,<br /> +But that the Jew hath reared her as a Jewess,<br /> +Allows her to remain a Jewess, and<br /> +To think herself his daughter. Reverend father<br /> +What then ought to be done?</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">PATRIARCH.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> I +shudder! But<br /> +First will you please explain if such a case<br /> +Be fact, or only an hypothesis?<br /> +That is to say, if you, of your own head,<br /> +Invent the case, or if indeed it happened,<br /> +And still continues happening?</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">TEMPLAR.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> I had +thought<br /> +That just to learn your reverence’s opinion<br /> +This were all one.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">PATRIARCH.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> All one—now see how +apt<br /> +Proud human reason is in spiritual things<br /> +To err: ’tis not all one; for, if the point<br /> +In question be a mere sport of the wit,<br /> +’Twill not be worth our while to think it through<br /> +But I should recommend the curious person<br /> +To theatres, where oft, with loud applause,<br /> +Such pro and contras have been agitated.<br /> +But if the object should be something more<br /> +Than by a school-trick—by a sleight of logic<br /> +To get the better of me—if the case<br /> +Be really extant, if it should have happened<br /> +Within our diocese, or—or perhaps<br /> +Here in our dear Jerusalem itself,<br /> +Why then—</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">TEMPLAR.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> What then?</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">PATRIARCH.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> Then were +it proper<br /> +To execute at once upon the Jew<br /> +The penal laws in such a case provided<br /> +By papal and imperial right, against<br /> +So foul a crime—such dire abomination.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">TEMPLAR.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">So.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">PATRIARCH.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> And the laws forementioned +have decreed,<br /> +That if a Jew shall to apostacy<br /> +Seduce a Christian, he shall die by fire.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">TEMPLAR.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">So.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">PATRIARCH.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> How much more the Jew, who +forcibly<br /> +Tears from the holy font a Christian child,<br /> +And breaks the sacramental bond of baptism;<br /> +For all what’s done to children is by force—<br /> +I mean except what the church does to children.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">TEMPLAR.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">What if the child, but for this fostering +Jew,<br /> +Must have expired in misery?</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">PATRIARCH.</span></p> +<p +class="poetry"> That’s +nothing,<br /> +The Jew has still deserved the faggot—for<br /> +’Twere better it here died in misery<br /> +Than for eternal woe to live. Besides,<br /> +Why should the Jew forestall the hand of God?<br /> +God, if he wills to save, can save without him.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">TEMPLAR.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">And spite of him too save eternally.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">PATRIARCH.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">That’s nothing! Still the Jew is to +be burnt.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">TEMPLAR.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">That hurts me—more particularly as<br /> +’Tis said he has not so much taught the maid<br /> +His faith, as brought her up with the mere knowledge<br /> +Of what our reason teaches about God.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">PATRIARCH.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">That’s nothing! Still the Jew is to +be burnt—<br /> +And for this very reason would deserve<br /> +To be thrice burnt. How, let a child grow up<br /> +Without a faith? Not even teach a child<br /> +The greatest of its duties, to believe?<br /> +’Tis heinous! I am quite astonished, knight,<br /> +That you yourself—</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">TEMPLAR.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> The rest, right reverend +sir,<br /> +In the confessional, but not before.</p> +<p style="text-align: right">[<i>Offers to go</i>.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">PATRIARCH.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">What off—not stay for my +interrogation—<br /> +Not name to me this infidel, this Jew—<br /> +Not find him up for me at once? But hold,<br /> +A thought occurs, I’ll straightway to the sultan<br /> +Conformably to the capitulation,<br /> +Which Saladin has sworn, he must support us<br /> +In all the privileges, all the doctrines<br /> +Which appertain to our most holy faith,<br /> +Thank God, we’ve the original in keeping,<br /> +We have his hand and seal to it—we—<br /> +And I shall lead him easily to think<br /> +How very dangerous for the state it is<br /> +Not to believe. All civic bonds divide,<br /> +Like flax fire-touched, where subjects don’t believe.<br /> +Away with foul impiety!</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">TEMPLAR.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> It +happens<br /> +Somewhat unlucky that I want the leisure<br /> +To enjoy this holy sermon. I am sent for<br /> +To Saladin.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">PATRIARCH.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> Why +then—indeed—if so—</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">TEMPLAR.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">And will prepare the sultan, if agreeable.<br +/> +For your right reverend visit.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">PATRIARCH.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> I have +heard<br /> +That you found favour in the sultan’s sight,<br /> +I beg with all humility to be<br /> +Remembered to him. I am purely motived<br /> +By zeal in th’ cause of God. What of too much<br /> +I do, I do for him—weigh that in goodness.<br /> +’Twas then, most noble sir—what you were starting<br +/> +About the Jew—a problem merely!</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">TEMPLAR.</span></p> +<p +class="poetry"> Problem!</p> +<p style="text-align: right">[<i>Goes</i>.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">PATRIARCH.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">Of whose foundation I’ll have nearer +knowledge.<br /> +Another job for brother Bonafides.<br /> +Hither, my son!</p> +<p style="text-align: right">[<i>Converses with the Friar as he +walks off</i>.</p> +<h4><span class="smcap">Scene</span>.—A Room in the +Palace.</h4> +<p><span class="smcap">Slaves</span> <i>bring in a number of +purses and pile them on the floor</i>. <span +class="smcap">Saladin</span> <i>is present</i>.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">SALADIN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">In troth this has no end. And is there +much<br /> +Of this same thing behind?</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">SLAVE.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> About one half.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">SALADIN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">Then take the rest to Sittah. +Where’s Al-Hafi?<br /> +What’s here Al-Hafi shall take charge of straight.<br /> +Or shan’t I rather send it to my father;<br /> +Here it slips through one’s fingers. Sure in time<br +/> +One may grow callous; it shall now cost labour<br /> +To come at much from me—at least until<br /> +The treasures come from Ægypt, poverty<br /> +Must shift as ’t can—yet at the sepulchre<br /> +The charges must go on—the Christian pilgrims<br /> +Shall not go back without an alms.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span class="smcap">Saladin</span> +<i>and</i> <span class="smcap">Sittah</span>.</p> +<p style="text-align: center" class="poetry"><span +class="GutSmall">SITTAH</span> (<i>entering</i>).</p> +<p class="poetry"> Why +this?<br /> +Wherefore the gold to me?</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">SALADIN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> Pay thyself with it,<br /> +And if there’s something left ’twill be in store.<br +/> +Are Nathan and the templar not yet come?</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">SITTAH.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">He has been seeking for him +everywhere—<br /> +Look what I met with when the plate and jewels<br /> +Were passing through my hands—</p> +<p style="text-align: right">[<i>Showing a small +portrait</i>.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">SALADIN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> Ha! What, my +brother?<br /> +’Tis he, ’tis he, <i>was</i> he, <i>was</i> he +alas!<br /> +Thou dear brave youth, and lost to me so early;<br /> +What would I not with thee and at thy side<br /> +Have undertaken? Let me have the portrait,<br /> +I recollect it now again; he gave it<br /> +Unto thy elder sister, to his Lilah,<br /> +That morning that she would not part with him,<br /> +But clasped him so in tears. It was the last<br /> +Morning that he rode out; and I—I let him<br /> +Ride unattended. Lilah died for grief,<br /> +And never could forgive me that I let him<br /> +Then ride alone. He came not back.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">SITTAH.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> Poor +brother—</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">SALADIN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">Time shall be when none of us will come +back,<br /> +And then who knows? It is not death alone<br /> +That balks the hopes of young men of his cast,<br /> +Such have far other foes, and oftentimes<br /> +The strongest like the weakest is o’ercome.<br /> +Be as it may—I must compare this picture<br /> +With our young templar, to observe how much<br /> +My fancy cheated me.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">SITTAH.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> I therefore brought it;<br /> +But give it me, I’ll tell thee if ’tis like.<br /> +We women see that best.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">SALADIN</span> (<i>to a slave at the +door</i>).</p> +<p class="poetry"> Ah, who is +there?<br /> +The templar? let him come.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">SITTAH</span> (<i>throws herself on a sofa apart +and drops her veil</i>).</p> +<p class="poetry"> Not to +interfere,<br /> +Or with my curiosity disturb you.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">SALADIN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">That’s right. And then his voice, +will that be like?<br /> +The tone of Assad’s voice, sleeps somewhere yet—<br +/> +So—</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span class="smcap">Templar</span> +<i>and</i> <span class="smcap">Saladin</span>.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">TEMPLAR.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> I thy prisoner, sultan,</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">SALADIN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> Thou my +prisoner—<br /> +And shall I not to him whose life I gave<br /> +Also give freedom?</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">TEMPLAR.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> What ’twere worthy +thine<br /> +To do, it is my part to hear of thee,<br /> +And not to take for granted. But, O Sultan,<br /> +To lay loud protestations at thy feet<br /> +Of gratitude for a life spared, agrees<br /> +Not with my station or my character.<br /> +At all times, ’tis once more, prince, at thy service.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">SALADIN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">Only forbear to use it against me.<br /> +Not that I grudge my enemy one pair more<br /> +Of hands—but such a heart, it goes against me<br /> +To yield him. I have been deceived with thee,<br /> +Thou brave young man, in nothing. Yes, thou art<br /> +In soul and body Assad. I could ask thee,<br /> +Where then hast thou been lurking all this time?<br /> +Or in what cavern slept? What Ginnistan<br /> +Chose some kind Perie for thy hiding-place,<br /> +That she might ever keep the flower thus fresh?<br /> +Methinks I could remind thee here and yonder<br /> +Of what we did together—could abuse thee<br /> +For having had one secret, e’en to me—<br /> +Cheat me of one adventure—yes, I could,<br /> +If I saw thee alone, and not myself.<br /> +Thanks that so much of this fond sweet illusion<br /> +At least is true, that in my sear of life<br /> +An Assad blossoms for me. Thou art willing?</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">TEMPLAR.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">All that from thee comes to me, whatsoever<br +/> +It chance to prove, lies as a wish already<br /> +Within my soul.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">SALADIN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> We’ll try the +experiment.<br /> +Wilt thou stay with me? dwell about me? boots not<br /> +As Mussulman or Christian, in a turban<br /> +Or a white mantle—I have never wished<br /> +To see the same bark grow about all trees.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">TEMPLAR.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">Else, Saladin, thou hardly hadst become<br /> +The hero that thou art, alike to all<br /> +The gardener of the Lord.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">SALADIN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> If thou think not<br /> +The worse of me for this, we’re half right.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">TEMPLAR.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> Quite +so.<br /> +One word.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">SALADIN</span> (<i>holds out his hand</i>).</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">TEMPLAR</span> (<i>takes it</i>).</p> +<p class="poetry"> One man—and with this +receive more<br /> +Than thou canst take away again—thine wholly.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">SALADIN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">’Tis for one day too great a +gain—too great.<br /> +Came he not with thee?</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">TEMPLAR.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> Who?</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">SALADIN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> Who? +Nathan.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">TEMPLAR</span> (<i>coldly</i>).</p> +<p class="poetry"> No,<br /> +I came alone.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">SALADIN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> O, what a deed of thine!<br +/> +And what a happiness, a blessing to thee,<br /> +That such a deed was serving such a man.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">TEMPLAR.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">Yes, yes.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">SALADIN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> So cold—no, my young +friend—when God<br /> +Does through our means a service, we ought not<br /> +To be so cold, not out of modesty<br /> +Wish to appear so cold.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">TEMPLAR.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> In this same world<br /> +All things have many sides, and ’tis not easy<br /> +To comprehend how they can fit each other.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">SALADIN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">Cling ever to the best—Give praise to +God,<br /> +Who knows how they can fit. But, my young man,<br /> +If thou wilt be so difficult, I must<br /> +Be very cautious with thee, for I too<br /> +Have many sides, and some of them perhaps<br /> +Such as mayn’t always seem to fit.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">TEMPLAR.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> That wounds +me;<br /> +Suspicion usually is not my failing.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">SALADIN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">Say then of whom thou harbour’st it, of +Nathan?<br /> +So should thy talk imply—canst thou suspect him?<br /> +Give me the first proof of thy confidence.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">TEMPLAR.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">I’ve nothing against Nathan, I am +angry<br /> +With myself only.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">SALADIN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> And for what?</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">TEMPLAR.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> For +dreaming<br /> +That any Jew could learn to be no Jew—<br /> +For dreaming it awake.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">SALADIN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> Out with this dream.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">TEMPLAR.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">Thou know’st of Nathan’s daughter, +sultan. What<br /> +I did for her I did—because I did it;<br /> +Too proud to reap thanks which I had not sown for,<br /> +I shunned from day to day her very sight.<br /> +The father was far off. He comes, he hears,<br /> +He seeks me, thanks me, wishes that his daughter<br /> +May please me; talks to me of dawning prospects—<br /> +I listen to his prate, go, see, and find<br /> +A girl indeed. O, sultan, I am ashamed—</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">SALADIN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">A shamed that a Jew girl knew how to make<br /> +Impression on thee, surely not.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">TEMPLAR.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> But that<br +/> +To this impression my rash yielding heart,<br /> +Trusting the smoothness of the father’s prate,<br /> +Opposed no more resistance. Fool—I sprang<br /> +A second time into the flame, and then<br /> +I wooed, and was denied.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">SALADIN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> Denied! Denied!</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">TEMPLAR.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">The prudent father does not flatly say<br /> +No to my wishes, but the prudent father<br /> +Must first inquire, and look about, and think.<br /> +Oh, by all means. Did not I do the same?<br /> +Did not I look about and ask who ’twas<br /> +While she was shrieking in the flame? Indeed,<br /> +By God, ’tis something beautifully wise<br /> +To be so circumspect.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">SALADIN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> Come, come, forgive<br /> +Something to age. His lingerings cannot last.<br /> +He is not going to require of thee<br /> +First to turn Jew.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">TEMPLAR.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> Who knows?</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">SALADIN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> Who? +I, who know<br /> +This Nathan better.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">TEMPLAR.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> Yet the superstition<br /> +In which we have grown up, not therefore loses<br /> +When we detect it, all its influence on us.<br /> +Not all are free that can bemock their fetters.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">SALADIN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">Maturely said—but Nathan, surely +Nathan—</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">TEMPLAR.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">The worst of superstitions is to think<br /> +One’s own most bearable.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">SALADIN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> May be, but Nathan—</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">TEMPLAR.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">Must Nathan be the mortal, who unshrinking<br +/> +Can face the moon-tide ray of truth, nor there<br /> +Betray the twilight dungeon which he crawled from.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">SALADIN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">Yes, Nathan is that man.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">TEMPLAR.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> I thought so too,<br /> +But what if this picked man, this chosen sage,<br /> +Were such a thorough Jew that he seeks out<br /> +For Christian children to bring up as Jews—<br /> +How then?</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">SALADIN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> Who says this of him?</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">TEMPLAR.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> E’en +the maid<br /> +With whom he frets me—with the hope of whom<br /> +He seemed to joy in paying me the service,<br /> +Which he would not allow me to do gratis—<br /> +This very maid is not his daughter—no,<br /> +She is a kidnapped Christian child.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">SALADIN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> Whom he<br +/> +Has, notwithstanding, to thy wish refused?</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">TEMPLAR</span> (<i>with vehemence</i>).</p> +<p class="poetry">Refused or not, I know him now. There +lies<br /> +The prating tolerationist unmasked—<br /> +And I’ll halloo upon this Jewish wolf,<br /> +For all his philosophical sheep’s clothing,<br /> +Dogs that shall touze his hide.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">SALADIN</span> (<i>earnestly</i>).</p> +<p class="poetry"> Peace, +Christian!</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">TEMPLAR.</span></p> +<p +class="poetry"> What!<br +/> +Peace, Christian—and may Jew and Mussulman<br /> +Stickle for being Jew and Mussulman,<br /> +And must the Christian only drop the Christian?</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">SALADIN</span> (<i>more solemnly</i>).</p> +<p class="poetry">Peace, Christian!</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">TEMPLAR</span> (<i>calmly</i>.)</p> +<p class="poetry"> Yes, I feel what weight of +blame<br /> +Lies in that word of thine pent up. O that<br /> +I knew how Assad in my place would act.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">SALADIN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">He—not much better, probably as fiery.<br +/> +Who has already taught thee thus at once<br /> +Like him to bribe me with a single word?<br /> +Indeed, if all has past as thou narratest,<br /> +I scarcely can discover Nathan in it.<br /> +But Nathan is my friend, and of my friends<br /> +One must not bicker with the other. Bend—<br /> +And be directed. Move with caution. Do not<br /> +Loose on him the fanatics of thy sect.<br /> +Conceal what all thy clergy would be claiming<br /> +My hand to avenge upon him, with more show<br /> +Of right than is my wish. Be not from spite<br /> +To any Jew or Mussulman a Christian.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">TEMPLAR.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">Thy counsel is but on the brink of coming<br /> +Somewhat too late, thanks to the patriarch’s<br /> +Bloodthirsty rage, whose instrument I shudder<br /> +To have almost become.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">SALADIN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> How! how! thou wentest<br /> +Still earlier to the patriarch than to me?</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">TEMPLAR.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">Yes, in the storm of passion, in the eddy<br /> +Of indecision—pardon—oh! thou wilt<br /> +No longer care, I fear, to find in me<br /> +One feature of thy Assad.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">SALADIN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> Yes, that fear.<br /> +Methinks I know by this time from what failings<br /> +Our virtue springs—this do thou cultivate,<br /> +Those shall but little harm thee in my sight.<br /> +But go, seek Nathan, as he sought for thee,<br /> +And bring him hither: I must reconcile you.<br /> +If thou art serious about the maid—<br /> +Be calm, she shall be thine—Nathan shall feel<br /> +That without swine’s flesh one may educate<br /> +A Christian child, Go.</p> +<p style="text-align: right">[<i>Templar withdraws</i>.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">SITTAH</span> (<i>rising from the sofa</i>).</p> +<p class="poetry"> Very strange indeed!</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">SALADIN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">Well, Sittah, must my Assad not have been<br /> +A gallant handsome youth?</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">SITTAH.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> If he was +thus,<br /> +And ’twasn’t the templar who sat to the painter.<br +/> +But how couldst thou be so forgetful, brother,<br /> +As not to ask about his parents?</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">SALADIN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> And<br /> +Particularly too about his mother.<br /> +Whether his mother e’er was in this country,<br /> +That is your meaning, isn’t it?</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">SITTAH.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> You run +on—</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">SALADIN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">Oh, nothing is more possible, for Assad<br /> +’Mong handsome Christian ladies was so welcome,<br /> +To handsome Christian ladies so attached,<br /> +That once a report spread—but ’tis not pleasant<br /> +To bring that up. Let us be satisfied<br /> +That we have got him once again—have got him<br /> +With all the faults and freaks, the starts and wildness<br /> +Of his warm gentle heart—Oh, Nathan must<br /> +Give him the maid—Dost think so?</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">SITTAH.</span></p> +<p +class="poetry"> Give—give +up!</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">SALADIN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">Aye, for what right has Nathan with the girl<br +/> +If he be not her father? He who saved<br /> +Her life so lately has a stronger claim<br /> +To heir their rights who gave it her at first.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">SITTAH.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">What therefore, Saladin, if you withdraw<br /> +The maid at once from the unrightful owner?</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">SALADIN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">There is no need of that.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">SITTAH.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> Need, not precisely;<br /> +But female curiosity inspires<br /> +Me with that counsel. There are certain men<br /> +Of whom one is irresistibly impatient<br /> +To know what women they can be in love with.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">SALADIN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">Well then you may send for her.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">SITTAH.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> May I, +brother?</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">SALADIN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">But hurt not Nathan, he must not imagine<br /> +That we propose by violence to part them.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">SITTAH.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">Be without apprehension.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">SALADIN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> Fare you well,<br /> +I must make out where this Al-Hafi is.</p> +<h4>SCENE.—The Hall in Nathan’s House, as in the +first scene; the things there mentioned unpacked and +displayed.</h4> +<p style="text-align: center"><span class="smcap">Daya</span> +<i>and</i> <span class="smcap">Nathan</span>.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">DAYA.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">O how magnificent, how tasty, +charming—<br /> +All such as only you could give—and where<br /> +Was this thin silver stuff with sprigs of gold<br /> +Woven? What might it cost? Yes, this is worthy<br /> +To be a wedding-garment. Not a queen<br /> +Could wish a handsomer.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">NATHAN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> Why wedding-garment?</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">DAYA.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">Perhaps of that you thought not when you bought +it;<br /> +But Nathan, it must be so, must indeed.<br /> +It seems made for a bride—the pure white ground,<br /> +Emblem of innocence—the branching gold,<br /> +Emblem of wealth—Now is not it delightful?</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">NATHAN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">What’s all this ingenuity of speech +for?<br /> +Over whose wedding-gown are you displaying<br /> +Your emblematic learning? Have you found<br /> +A bridegroom?</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">DAYA.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> I—</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">NATHAN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> Who +then?</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">DAYA.</span></p> +<p +class="poetry"> I—Gracious +God!</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">NATHAN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">Who then? Whose wedding-garment do you +speak of?<br /> +For this is all your own and no one’s else.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">DAYA.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">Mine—is’t for me and not for +Recha?</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">NATHAN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> What<br /> +I brought for Recha is in another bale.<br /> +Come, clear it off: away with all your rubbish.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">DAYA.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">You tempter—No—Were they the +precious things<br /> +Of the whole universe, I will not touch them<br /> +Until you promise me to seize upon<br /> +Such an occasion as heaven gives not twice.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">NATHAN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">Seize upon what occasion? For what +end?</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">DAYA.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">There, do not act so strange. You must +perceive<br /> +The templar loves your Recha—Give her to him;<br /> +Then will your sin, which I can hide no longer,<br /> +Be at an end. The maid will come once more<br /> +Among the Christians, will be once again<br /> +What she was born to, will be what she was;<br /> +And you, by all the benefits, for which<br /> +We cannot thank you enough, will not have heaped<br /> +More coals of fire upon your head.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">NATHAN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> Again<br /> +Harping on the old string, new tuned indeed,<br /> +But so as neither to accord nor hold.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">DAYA.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">How so?</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">NATHAN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> The templar pleases me +indeed,<br /> +I’d rather he than any one had Recha;<br /> +But—do have patience.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">DAYA.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> Patience—and is that<br +/> +Not the old string you harp on?</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">NATHAN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> Patience, +patience,<br /> +For a few days—no more. Ha! who comes here?<br /> +A friar—ask what he wants.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span class="GutSmall">DAYA</span> +(<i>going</i>).</p> +<p class="poetry"> What can he +want?</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">NATHAN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">Give, give before he begs. O could I +tell<br /> +How to come at the templar, not betraying<br /> +The motive of my curiosity—<br /> +For if I tell it, and if my suspicion<br /> +Be groundless, I have staked the father idly.<br /> +What is the matter?</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span class="GutSmall">DAYA</span> +(<i>returning</i>).</p> +<p class="poetry"> He must speak to you.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">NATHAN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">Then let him come to me. Go you +meanwhile.</p> +<p style="text-align: right">[<i>Daya goes</i>.</p> +<p class="poetry">How gladly would I still remain my +Recha’s<br /> +Father. And can I not remain so, though<br /> +I cease to wear the name. To her, to her<br /> +I still shall wear it, when she once perceives</p> +<p style="text-align: right">[<i>Friar enters</i>.</p> +<p class="poetry">How willingly I were so. Pious +brother,<br /> +What can be done to serve you?</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span class="smcap">Nathan</span> +<i>and</i> <span class="smcap">Friar</span>.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">FRIAR.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> O not +much;<br /> +And yet I do rejoice to see you yet<br /> +So well.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">NATHAN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> You know me then—</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">FRIAR.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> Who knows +you not?<br /> +You have impressed your name in many a hand,<br /> +And it has been in mine these many years.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">NATHAN</span> (<i>feeling for his +purse</i>).</p> +<p class="poetry">Here, brother, I’ll refresh it.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">FRIAR.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> Thank you, +thank you—<br /> +From poorer men I’d steal—but nothing now!<br /> +Only allow me to refresh my name<br /> +In your remembrance; for I too may boast<br /> +To have of old put something in your hand<br /> +Not to be scorned.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">NATHAN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> Excuse me, I’m +ashamed,<br /> +What was it? Claim it of me sevenfold,<br /> +I’m ready to atone for my forgetting.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">FRIAR.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">But before all, hear how this very day<br /> +I was reminded of the pledge I brought you.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">NATHAN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">A pledge to me intrusted?</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">FRIAR.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> Some time +since,<br /> +I dwelt as hermit on the Quarantana,<br /> +Not far from Jericho, but Arab robbers<br /> +Came and broke up my cell and oratory,<br /> +And dragged me with them. Fortunately I<br /> +Escaped, and with the patriarch sought a refuge,<br /> +To beg of him some other still retreat,<br /> +Where I may serve my God in solitude<br /> +Until my latter end.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">NATHAN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> I stand on coals—<br /> +Quick, my good brother, let me know what pledge<br /> +You once intrusted to me.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">FRIAR.</span></p> +<p +class="poetry"> Presently,<br +/> +Good Nathan, presently. The patriarch<br /> +Has promised me a hermitage on Thabor,<br /> +As soon as one is vacant, and meanwhile<br /> +Employs me as lay-brother in the convent,<br /> +And there I am at present: and I pine<br /> +A hundred times a day for Thabor; for<br /> +The patriarch will set me about all work,<br /> +And some that I can’t brook—as for example—</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">NATHAN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">Be speedy, I beseech you.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">FRIAR.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> Now it happens<br /> +That some one whispered in his ear to-day,<br /> +There lives hard by a Jew, who educates<br /> +A Christian child as his own daughter.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">NATHAN</span> (<i>startled</i>).</p> +<p class="poetry"> How</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">FRIAR.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">Hear me quite out. So he commissions +me,<br /> +If possible to track him out this Jew:<br /> +And stormed most bitterly at the misdeed;<br /> +Which seems to him to be the very sin<br /> +Against the Holy Ghost—That is, the sin<br /> +Of all most unforgiven, most enormous;<br /> +But luckily we cannot tell exactly<br /> +What it consists in—All at once my conscience<br /> +Was roused, and it occurred to me that I<br /> +Perhaps had given occasion to this sin.<br /> +Now do not you remember a knight’s squire,<br /> +Who eighteen years ago gave to your hands<br /> +A female child a few weeks old?</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">NATHAN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> How +that?<br /> +In fact such was—</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">FRIAR.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> Now look with heed at me,<br +/> +And recollect. I was the man on horseback<br /> +Who brought the child.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">NATHAN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> Was you?</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">FRIAR.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> And he from +whom<br /> +I brought it was methinks a lord of Filnek—<br /> +Leonard of Filnek.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">NATHAN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> Right!</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">FRIAR.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> Because the +mother.<br /> +Died a short time before; and he, the father,<br /> +Had on a sudden to make off to Gazza,<br /> +Where the poor helpless thing could not go with him;<br /> +Therefore he sent it you—that was my message.<br /> +Did not I find you out at Darun? there<br /> +Consign it to you?</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">NATHAN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> Yes.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">FRIAR.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> It were no +wonder<br /> +My memory deceived me. I have had<br /> +Many a worthy master, and this one<br /> +I served not long. He fell at Askalon—<br /> +But he was a kind lord.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">NATHAN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> O yes, indeed;<br /> +For much have I to thank him, very much—<br /> +He more than once preserved me from the sword.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">FRIAR.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">O brave—you therefore will with double +pleasure<br /> +Have taken up this daughter.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">NATHAN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> You have +said it.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">FRIAR.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">Where is she then? She is not dead, I +hope—<br /> +I would not have her dead, dear pretty creature.<br /> +If no one else know anything about it<br /> +All is yet safe.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">NATHAN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> Aye all!</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">FRIAR.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> Yes, trust +me, Nathan,<br /> +This is my way of thinking—if the good<br /> +That I propose to do is somehow twined<br /> +With mischief, then I let the good alone;<br /> +For we know pretty well what mischief is,<br /> +But not what’s for the best. ’Twas natural<br +/> +If you meant to bring up the Christian child<br /> +Right well, that you should rear it as your own;<br /> +And to have done this lovingly and truly,<br /> +For such a recompense—were horrible.<br /> +It might have been more prudent to have had it<br /> +Brought up at second hand by some good Christian<br /> +In her own faith. But your friend’s orphan child<br +/> +You would not then have loved. Children need love,<br /> +Were it the mute affection of a brute,<br /> +More at that age than Christianity.<br /> +There’s always time enough for that—and if<br /> +The maid have but grown up before your eyes<br /> +With a sound frame and pious—she remains<br /> +Still in her maker’s eye the same. For is not<br /> +Christianity all built on Judaism?<br /> +Oh, it has often vexed me, cost me tears,<br /> +That Christians will forget so often that<br /> +Our Saviour was a Jew.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">NATHAN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> You, my good brother,<br /> +Shall be my advocate, when bigot hate<br /> +And hard hypocrisy shall rise upon me—<br /> +And for a deed—a deed—thou, thou shalt know +it—<br /> +But take it with thee to the tomb. As yet<br /> +Has vanity ne’er tempted me to tell it<br /> +To living soul—only to thee I tell it,<br /> +To simple piety alone; for it<br /> +Alone can feel what deeds the man who trusts<br /> +In God can gain upon himself.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">FRIAR.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> You seem<br +/> +Affected, and your eye-balls swim in water.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">NATHAN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">’Twas at Darun you met me with the +child;<br /> +But you will not have known that a few days<br /> +Before, the Christians murdered every Jew in Gath,<br /> +Woman and child; that among these, my wife<br /> +With seven hopeful sons were found, who all<br /> +Beneath my brother’s roof which they had fled to,<br /> +Were burnt alive.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">FRIAR.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> Just God!</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">NATHAN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> And when +you came,<br /> +Three nights had I in dust and ashes lain<br /> +Before my God and wept—aye, and at times<br /> +Arraigned my maker, raged, and cursed myself<br /> +And the whole world, and to Christianity<br /> +Swore unrelenting hate.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">FRIAR.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> Ah, I believe you.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">NATHAN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">But by degrees returning reason came,<br /> +She spake with gentle voice—And yet God is,<br /> +And this was his decree—now exercise<br /> +What thou hast long imagined, and what surely<br /> +Is not more difficult to exercise<br /> +Than to imagine—if thou will it once.<br /> +I rose and called out—God, I will—I will,<br /> +So thou but aid my purpose—And behold<br /> +You was just then dismounted, and presented<br /> +To me the child wrapt in your mantle. What<br /> +You said, or I, occurs not to me now—<br /> +Thus much I recollect—I took the child,<br /> +I bore it to my couch, I kissed it, flung<br /> +Myself upon my knees and sobbed—my God,<br /> +Now have I one out of the seven again!</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">FRIAR.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">Nathan, you are a Christian! Yes, by +God<br /> +You are a Christian—never was a better.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">NATHAN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">Heaven bless us! What makes me to you a +Christian<br /> +Makes you to me a Jew. But let us cease<br /> +To melt each other—time is nigh to act,<br /> +And though a sevenfold love had bound me soon<br /> +To this strange only girl, though the mere thought,<br /> +That I shall lose in her my seven sons<br /> +A second time distracts me—yet I will,<br /> +If providence require her at my hands,<br /> +Obey.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">FRIAR.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> The very thing I should +advise you;<br /> +But your good genius has forestalled my thought.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">NATHAN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">The first best claimant must not seek to +tear<br /> +Her from me.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">FRIAR.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> No most surely not.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">NATHAN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> And he,<br +/> +That has not stronger claims than I, at least<br /> +Ought to have earlier.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">FRIAR.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> Certainly.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">NATHAN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> By +nature<br /> +And blood conferred.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">FRIAR.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> I mean so too.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">NATHAN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> Then +name<br /> +The man allied to her as brother, uncle,<br /> +Or otherwise akin, and I from him<br /> +Will not withhold her—she who was created<br /> +And was brought up to be of any house,<br /> +Of any faith, the glory—I, I hope,<br /> +That of your master and his race you knew<br /> +More than myself.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">FRIAR.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> I hardly think that, +Nathan;<br /> +For I already told you that I passed<br /> +A short time with him.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">NATHAN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> Can you +tell at least<br /> +The mother’s family name? She was, I think,<br /> +A Stauffen.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">FRIAR.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> May be—yes, in fact, +you’re right.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">NATHAN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">Conrade of Stauffen was her brother’s +name—<br /> +He was a templar.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">FRIAR.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> I am clear +it was.<br /> +But stay, I recollect I’ve yet a book,<br /> +’Twas my dead lord’s—I drew it from his +bosom,<br /> +While we were burying him at Askalon.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">NATHAN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">Well!</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">FRIAR.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> There are prayers in’t, +’tis what we call<br /> +A breviary. This, thought I, may yet serve<br /> +Some Christian man—not me indeed, for I<br /> +Can’t read.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">NATHAN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> No matter, to the thing.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">FRIAR.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">This book is written at both ends quite +full,<br /> +And, as I’m told, contains, in his hand-writing<br /> +About both him and her what’s most material.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">NATHAN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">Go, run and fetch the book—’tis +fortunate;<br /> +I am ready with its weight in gold to pay it,<br /> +And thousand thanks beside—Go, run.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">FRIAR.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> Most +gladly;<br /> +But ’tis in Arabic what he has written.</p> +<p style="text-align: right">[<i>Goes</i>.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">NATHAN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">No matter—that’s all one—do +fetch it—Oh!<br /> +If by its means I may retain the daughter,<br /> +And purchase with it such a son-in-law;<br /> +But that’s unlikely—well, chance as it may.<br /> +Who now can have been with the patriarch<br /> +To tell this tale? That I must not forget<br /> +To ask about. If ’t were of Daya’s?</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span class="smcap">Nathan</span> +<i>and</i> <span class="smcap">Daya</span>.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span class="GutSmall">DAYA</span> +(<i>anxiously breaks in</i>).</p> +<p +class="poetry"> Nathan!</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">NATHAN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">Well!</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">DAYA.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> Only think, she was quite +frightened at it,<br /> +Poor child, a message—</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">NATHAN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> From the patriarch?</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">DAYA.</span></p> +<p +class="poetry"> No—<br +/> +The sultan’s sister, princess Sittah, sends.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">NATHAN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">And not the patriarch?</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">DAYA.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> Can’t you hear? +The princess<br /> +Has sent to see your Recha.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">NATHAN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> Sent for Recha<br /> +Has Sittah sent for Recha? Well, if Sittah,<br /> +And not the patriarch, sends.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">DAYA.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> Why think +of him?</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">NATHAN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">Have you heard nothing from him +lately—really<br /> +Seen nothing of him—whispered nothing to him?</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">DAYA.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">How, I to him?</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">NATHAN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> Where are the messengers?</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">DAYA.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">There, just before you.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">NATHAN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> I will talk with them<br /> +Out of precaution. If there’s nothing lurking<br /> +Beneath this message of the patriarch’s doing—</p> +<p style="text-align: right">[<i>Goes</i>.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">DAYA.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">And I—I’ve other fears. The +only daughter,<br /> +As they suppose, of such a rich, rich Jew,<br /> +Would for a Mussulman be no bad thing;<br /> +I bet the templar will be choused, unless<br /> +I risk the second step, and to herself<br /> +Discover who she is. Let me for this<br /> +Employ the first short moments we’re alone;<br /> +And that will be—oh, as I am going with her.<br /> +A serious hint upon the road I think<br /> +Can’t be amiss—yes, now or never—yes.</p> +<h3>ACT V.</h3> +<h4><span class="smcap">Scene</span>.—A Room in the Palace; +the Purses still in a pile.</h4> +<p><span class="smcap">Saladin</span>, <i>and</i>, <i>soon +after</i>, <i>several</i> <span +class="smcap">Mamalukes</span>.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span class="smcap">Saladin</span> +(<i>as he comes in</i>).</p> +<p class="poetry">Here lies the money still, and no one finds<br +/> +The dervis yet—he’s probably got somewhere<br /> +Over a chess-board. Play would often make<br /> +The man forget himself, and why not, me.<br /> +Patience—Ha! what’s the matter.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span class="smcap">Saladin</span> +<i>and</i> <span class="smcap">Ibrahim</span>.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">IBRAHIM.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> Happy +news—<br /> +Joy, sultan, joy, the caravan from Cairo<br /> +Is safe arrived and brings the seven years’ tribute<br /> +Of the rich Nile.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">SALADIN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> Bravo, my Ibrahim,<br /> +Thou always wast a welcome messenger,<br /> +And now at length—at length—accept my thanks<br /> +For the good tidings.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">IBRAHIM</span> (<i>waiting</i>).</p> +<p class="poetry"> Hither with them, sultan.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">SALADIN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">What art thou waiting for? Go.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">IBRAHIM.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> Nothing +further<br /> +For my glad news?</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">SALADIN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> What further?</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">IBRAHIM.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> Errand +boys<br /> +Earn hire—and when their message smiles i’ the +telling,<br /> +The sender’s hire by the receiver’s bounty<br /> +Is oft outweighed. Am I to be the first<br /> +Whom Saladin at length has learnt to pay<br /> +In words? The first about whose recompense<br /> +The sultan higgled?</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">SALADIN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> Go, pick up a purse.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">IBRAHIM.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">No, not now—you might give them all +away</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">SALADIN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">All—hold, man. Here, come hither, +take these two—<br /> +And is he really going—shall he conquer<br /> +Me then in generosity? for surely<br /> +’Tis harder for this fellow to refuse<br /> +Than ’tis for me to give. Here, Ibrahim—<br /> +Shall I be tempted, just before my exit,<br /> +To be a different man—small Saladin<br /> +Not die like Saladin, then wherefore live so?</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span class="smcap">Abdallah</span> +<i>and</i> <span class="smcap">Saladin</span>.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">ABDALLAH.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">Hail, Sultan!</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">SALADIN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> If thou comest to inform +me<br /> +That the whole convoy is arrived from Egypt,<br /> +I know it already.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">ABDALLAH.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> Do I come too late?</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">SALADIN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">Too late, and why too late? There for thy +tidings<br /> +Pick up a purse or two.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">ABDALLAH.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> Does that +make three?</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">SALADIN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">So thou wouldst reckon—well, well, take +them, take them.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">ABDALLAH.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">A third will yet be here if he be able.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">SALADIN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">How so?</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">ABDALLAH.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> He may perhaps have broke his +neck.<br /> +We three, as soon as certain of the coming<br /> +Of the rich caravan, each crossed our horses,<br /> +And galloped hitherward. The foremost fell,<br /> +Then I was foremost, and continued so<br /> +Into the city, but sly Ibrahim,<br /> +Who knows the streets—</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">SALADIN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> But he that +fell, go, seek him.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">ABDALLAH.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">That will I quickly—if he lives, the +half<br /> +Of what I’ve got is his.</p> +<p style="text-align: right">[<i>Goes</i>.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">SALADIN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> What a fine fellow!<br /> +And who can boast such mamalukes as these;<br /> +And is it not allowed me to imagine<br /> +That my example helped to form them. Hence<br /> +With the vile thought at last to turn another.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><i>A third</i> <span +class="smcap">Courier</span>.</p> +<p class="poetry">Sultan—</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">SALADIN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> Was’t thou who +fell?</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">COURIER.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> No, +I’ve to tell thee<br /> +That Emir Mansor, who conducts the convoy,<br /> +Alights.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">SALADIN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> O bring him to me—Ah, +he’s there—<br /> +Be welcome, Emir. What has happened to thee?<br /> +For we have long expected thee.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span class="smcap">Saladin</span> +<i>and</i> <span class="smcap">Emir</span>.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span class="GutSmall">EMIR</span> +(<i>after the wont obeisance</i>).</p> +<p class="poetry"> This +letter<br /> +Will show, that, in Thebais, discontents<br /> +Required thy Abulkassem’s sabred hand,<br /> +Ere we could march. Since that, our progress, sultan,<br /> +My zeal has sped most anxiously.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">SALADIN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> I trust +thee—<br /> +But my good Mansor take without delay—<br /> +Thou art not loth to go further—fresh protection,<br /> +And with the treasure on to Libanon;<br /> +The greater part at least I have to lodge<br /> +With my old father.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">EMIR.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> O, most willingly.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">SALADIN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">And take not a slight escort. Libanon<br +/> +Is far from quiet, as thou wilt have heard;<br /> +The templars stir afresh, be therefore cautious.<br /> +Come, I must see thy troop, and give the orders.</p> +<p style="text-align: right">[<i>To a slave</i>.</p> +<p class="poetry">Say I shall be with Sittah when I’ve +finished.</p> +<h4>SCENE—A Place of Palms.</h4> +<p style="text-align: center"><i>The</i> <span +class="smcap">Templar</span> <i>walking to and fro</i>.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">TEMPLAR.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">Into this house I go not—sure at last<br +/> +He’ll show himself—once, once they used to see me<br +/> +So instantly, so gladly—time will come<br /> +When he’ll send out most civilly to beg me<br /> +Not to pace up and down before his door.<br /> +Psha—and yet I’m a little nettled too;<br /> +And what has thus embittered me against him?<br /> +He answered yes. He has refused me nothing<br /> +As yet. And Saladin has undertaken<br /> +To bring him round. And does the Christian nestle<br /> +Deeper in me than the Jew lurks in him?<br /> +Who, who can justly estimate himself?<br /> +How comes it else that I should grudge him so<br /> +The little booty that he took such pains<br /> +To rob the Christians of? A theft, no less<br /> +Than such a creature tho’—but whose, whose +creature?<br /> +Sure not the slave’s who floated the mere block<br /> +On to life’s barren strand, and then ran off;<br /> +But his the artist’s, whose fine fancy moulded<br /> +Upon the unowned block a godlike form,<br /> +Whose chisel graved it there. Recha’s true father,<br +/> +Spite of the Christian who begot her, is,<br /> +Must ever be, the Jew. Alas, were I<br /> +To fancy her a simple Christian wench,<br /> +And without all that which the Jew has given,<br /> +Which only such a Jew could have bestowed—<br /> +Speak out my heart, what had she that would please thee?<br /> +No, nothing! Little! For her very smile<br /> +Shrinks to a pretty twisting of the muscles—<br /> +Be that, which makes her smile, supposed unworthy<br /> +Of all the charms in ambush on her lips?<br /> +No, not her very smile—I’ve seen sweet smiles<br /> +Spent on conceit, on foppery, on slander,<br /> +On flatterers, on wicked wooers spent,<br /> +And did they charm me then? then wake the wish<br /> +To flutter out a life beneath their sunshine?<br /> +Indeed not—Yet I’m angry with the man<br /> +Who alone gave this higher value to her.<br /> +How this, and why? Do I deserve the taunt<br /> +With which I was dismissed by Saladin?<br /> +’Tis bad enough that Saladin should think so;<br /> +How little, how contemptible must I<br /> +Then have appeared to him—all for a girl.<br /> +Conrade, this will not do—back, back—And if<br /> +Daya to boot had prated matter to me<br /> +Not easy to be proved—At last he’s coming,<br /> +Engaged in earnest converse—and with whom?<br /> +My friar in Nathan’s house! then he knows all—<br /> +Perhaps has to the patriarch been betrayed.<br /> +O Conrade, what vile mischiefs thou hast brooded<br /> +Out of thy cross-grained head, that thus one spark<br /> +Of that same passion, love, can set so much<br /> +O’ th’ brain in flame? Quick, then, determine, +wretch,<br /> +What shalt thou say or do? Step back a moment<br /> +And see if this good friar will please to quit him.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span class="smcap">Nathan</span> +<i>and the</i> <span class="smcap">Friar</span> <i>come together +out of Nathan’s house</i>.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">NATHAN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">Once more, good brother, thanks.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">FRIAR.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> The like to +you.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">NATHAN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">To me, and why; because I’m +obstinate—<br /> +Would force upon you what you have no use for?</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">FRIAR.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">The book besides was none of mine. +Indeed<br /> +It must at any rate belong to th’ daughter;<br /> +It is her whole, her only patrimony—<br /> +Save she has you. God grant you ne’er have reason<br +/> +To sorrow for the much you’ve done for her.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">NATHAN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">How should I? that can never be; fear +nothing.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">FRIAR.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">Patriarchs and templars—</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">NATHAN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> Have not in their power<br /> +Evil enough to make me e’er repent.<br /> +And then—But are you really well assured<br /> +It is a templar who eggs on your patriarch?</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">FRIAR.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">It scarcely can be other, for a templar<br /> +Talked with him just before, and what I heard<br /> +Agreed with this.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">NATHAN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> But there is only one<br /> +Now in Jerusalem; and him I know;<br /> +He is my friend, a noble open youth.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">FRIAR.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">The same. But what one is at heart, and +what<br /> +One gets to be in active life, mayn’t always<br /> +Square well together.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">NATHAN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> No, alas, they do not.<br /> +Therefore unangered I let others do<br /> +Their best or worst. O brother, with your book<br /> +I set all at defiance, and am going<br /> +Straight with it to the Sultan.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">FRIAR.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> God be with +you!<br /> +Here I shall take my leave.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">NATHAN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> And have +not seen her—<br /> +Come soon, come often to us. If to-day<br /> +The patriarch make out nothing—but no matter,<br /> +Tell him it all to-day, or when you will.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">FRIAR.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">Not I—farewell!</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">NATHAN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> Do not forget us, brother<br +/> +My God, why may I not beneath thy sky<br /> +Here drop upon my knees; now the twined knot,<br /> +Which has so often made my thinkings anxious,<br /> +Untangles of itself—God, how I am eased,<br /> +Now that I’ve nothing in the world remaining<br /> +That I need hide—now that I can as freely<br /> +Walk before man as before thee, who only<br /> +Need’st not to judge a creature by his deeds—<br /> +Deeds which so seldom are his own—O God!</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span class="smcap">Nathan</span> +<i>and</i> <span class="smcap">Templar</span>.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">TEMPLAR</span> (<i>coming forward</i>).</p> +<p class="poetry">Hoa, Nathan, take me with you.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">NATHAN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> Ha! +Who calls?<br /> +Is it you, knight? And whither have you been<br /> +That you could not be met with at the Sultan’s?</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">TEMPLAR.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">We missed each other—take it not +amiss.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">NATHAN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">I, no, but Saladin.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">TEMPLAR.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> You was just gone.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">NATHAN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">O, then you spoke with him; I’m +satisfied.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">TEMPLAR.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">Yes—but he wants to talk with us +together.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">NATHAN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">So much the better. Come with me, my +step<br /> +Was eitherwise bent thither.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">TEMPLAR.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> May I ask,<br /> +Nathan, who ’twas now left you?</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">NATHAN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> Did you +know him?</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">TEMPLAR.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">Was’t that good-hearted creature the +lay-brother,<br /> +Whom the hoar patriarch has a knack of using<br /> +To feel his way out?</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">NATHAN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> That may be. In fact<br +/> +He’s at the patriarch’s.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">TEMPLAR.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> ’Tis no awkward hit<br +/> +To make simplicity the harbinger<br /> +Of craft.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">NATHAN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> If the simplicity of +dunces,<br /> +But if of honest piety?</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">TEMPLAR.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> This +last<br /> +No patriarch can believe in.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">NATHAN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">I’ll be bound for’t<br /> +This last belongs to him who quitted me.<br /> +He’ll not assist his patriarch to accomplish<br /> +A vile or cruel purpose.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">TEMPLAR.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> Such, at least,<br /> +He would appear—but has he told you then<br /> +Something of me?</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">NATHAN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> Of you? No—not by +name,<br /> +He can’t well be acquainted with your name.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">TEMPLAR.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">No, that not.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">NATHAN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> He indeed spoke of a +templar,<br /> +Who—</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">TEMPLAR.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> What?</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">NATHAN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> But by this +templar could not mean<br /> +To point out you.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">TEMPLAR.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> Stay, stay, who knows? +Let’s hear.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">NATHAN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">Who has accused me to his patriarch.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">TEMPLAR.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">Accused thee, no, that by his leave is +false.<br /> +Nathan do hear me—I am not the man<br /> +Who would deny a single of his actions;<br /> +What I have done, I did. Nor am I one<br /> +Who would defend all he has done as right—<br /> +Why be ashamed of failing? Am I not<br /> +Firmly resolved on better future conduct?<br /> +And am I not aware how much the man<br /> +That’s willing can improve? O, hear me, +Nathan—<br /> +I am the templar your lay-brother talked of—<br /> +Who has accused—You know what made me angry,<br /> +What set the blood in all my veins on fire,<br /> +The mad-cap that I was—I had drawn nigh<br /> +To fling myself with soul and body whole<br /> +Into your arms—and you received me, Nathan—<br /> +How cold, how lukewarm, for that’s worse than +cold.—<br /> +How with words weighed and measured, you took care<br /> +To put me off; and with what questioning<br /> +About my parentage, and God knows what,<br /> +You seemed to answer me—I must not think on’t<br /> +If I would keep my temper—Hear me, Nathan—<br /> +While in this ferment—Daya steps behind me,<br /> +Bolts out a secret in my ear, which seemed<br /> +At once to lend a clue to your behaviour.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">NATHAN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">How so?</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">TEMPLAR.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> Do hear me to the end. +I fancied<br /> +That what you from the Christians had purloined<br /> +You wasn’t content to let a Christian have;<br /> +And so the project struck me short and good,<br /> +To hold the knife to your throat till—</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">NATHAN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> Short and +good;<br /> +And good—but where’s the good?</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">TEMPLAR.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> Yet hear me, Nathan,<br /> +I own I did not right—you are unguilty,<br /> +No doubt. The prating Daya does not know<br /> +What she reported—has a grudge against you—<br /> +Seeks to involve you in an ugly business—<br /> +May be, may be, and I’m a crazy looby,<br /> +A credulous enthusiast—both ways mad—<br /> +Doing ever much too much, or much too little—<br /> +That too may be—forgive me, Nathan.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">NATHAN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> If<br /> +Such be the light in which you view—</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">TEMPLAR.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> In short<br +/> +I to the patriarch went. I named you not.<br /> +That, as I said, was false. I only stated<br /> +In general terms, the case, to learn his notion,<br /> +That too might have been let alone—assuredly.<br /> +For knew I not the patriarch then to be<br /> +A knave? And might I not have talked with you?<br /> +And ought I to have exposed the poor girl—ha!<br /> +To part with such a father? Now what happens?<br /> +The patriarch’s villainy consistent ever<br /> +Restored me to myself—O, hear me out—<br /> +Suppose he was to ferret out your name,<br /> +What then? What then? He cannot seize the maid,<br /> +Unless she still belong to none but you.<br /> +’Tis from your house alone that he could drag her<br /> +Into a convent; therefore grant her me—<br /> +Grant her to me, and let him come. By God—<br /> +Sever my wife from me—he’ll not be rash<br /> +Enough to think about it. Give her to me,<br /> +Be she or no thy daughter, Christian, Jewess,<br /> +Or neither, ’tis all one, all one—I’ll never<br +/> +In my whole life ask of thee which she is,<br /> +Be’t as it may.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">NATHAN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> You may perhaps imagine<br /> +That I’ve an interest to conceal the truth.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">TEMPLAR.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">Be’t as it may.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">NATHAN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> I neither have to you<br /> +Nor any one, whom it behooved to know it,<br /> +Denied that she’s a Christian, and no more<br /> +Than my adopted daughter. Why, to her<br /> +I have not yet betrayed it—I am bound<br /> +To justify only to her.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">TEMPLAR.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> Of that<br +/> +Shall be no need. Indulge, indulge her with<br /> +Never beholding you with other eyes—<br /> +Spare, spare her the discovery. As yet<br /> +You have her to yourself, and may bestow her;<br /> +Give her to me—oh, I beseech thee, Nathan,<br /> +Give her to me, I, only I can save her<br /> +A second time, and will.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">NATHAN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> Yes, could have saved her.<br +/> +But ’tis all over now—it is too late.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">TEMPLAR.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">How so, too late.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">NATHAN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> Thanks to the patriarch.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">TEMPLAR.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> How<br /> +Thanks to the patriarch, and for what? Can he<br /> +Earn thanks of us. For what?</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">NATHAN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> That now we know<br /> +To whom she is related—to whose hands<br /> +She may with confidence be now delivered.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">TEMPLAR.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">He thank him who has more to thank him for.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">NATHAN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">From theirs you now have to obtain her, not<br +/> +From mine.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">TEMPLAR.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> Poor Recha—what befalls +thee? Oh,<br /> +Poor Recha—what had been to other orphans<br /> +A blessing, is to thee a curse. But, Nathan,<br /> +Where are they, these new kinsmen?</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">NATHAN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> Where they +are?</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">TEMPLAR.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> Who are they?</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">NATHAN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> Who—a brother is found +out<br /> +To whom you must address yourself.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">TEMPLAR.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> A +brother!<br /> +And what is he, a soldier or a priest?<br /> +Let’s hear what I’ve to hope.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">NATHAN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> As I +believe<br /> +He’s neither of the two—or both. Just now <br +/> +I cannot say exactly.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">TEMPLAR.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> And besides<br /> +He’s—</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">NATHAN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> A brave fellow, and with whom +my Recha<br /> +Will not be badly placed.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">TEMPLAR.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> But he’s a +Christian.<br /> +At times I know not what to make of you—<br /> +Take it not ill of me, good Nathan. Will she<br /> +Not have to play the Christian among Christians;<br /> +And when she has been long enough the actress<br /> +Not turn so? Will the tares in time not stifle<br /> +The pure wheat of your setting—and does that<br /> +Affect you not a whit—you yet declare<br /> +She’ll not be badly placed.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">NATHAN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> I think, I hope so.<br /> +And should she there have need of any thing<br /> +Has she not you and me?</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">TEMPLAR.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> Need at her +brother’s—<br /> +What should she need when there? Won’t he provide<br +/> +His dear new sister with all sorts of dresses,<br /> +With comfits and with toys and glittering jewels?<br /> +And what needs any sister wish for else—<br /> +Only a husband? And he comes in time.<br /> +A brother will know how to furnish that,<br /> +The Christianer the better. Nathan, Nathan,<br /> +O what an angel you had formed, and how<br /> +Others will mar it now!</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">NATHAN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> Be not so +downcast,<br /> +Believe me he will ever keep himself<br /> +Worthy our love.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">TEMPLAR.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> No, say not that of mine.<br +/> +My love allows of no refusal—none.<br /> +Were it the merest trifle—but a name.<br /> +Hold there—has she as yet the least suspicion<br /> +Of what is going forward?</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">NATHAN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> That may +be,<br /> +And yet I know not whence.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">TEMPLAR.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> It matters +not,<br /> +She shall, she must in either case from me<br /> +First learn what fate is threatening. My fixed purpose<br +/> +To see her not again, nor speak to her,<br /> +Till I might call her mine, is gone. I hasten—</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">NATHAN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">Stay, whither would you go?</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">TEMPLAR.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> To her, to +learn<br /> +If this girl’s soul be masculine enough<br /> +To form the only resolution worthy<br /> +Herself.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">NATHAN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> What resolution?</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">TEMPLAR.</span></p> +<p +class="poetry"> This—to +ask<br /> +No more about her brother and her father,<br /> +And—</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">NATHAN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> And—</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">TEMPLAR.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> To follow +me. E’en if she were<br /> +So doing to become a Moslem’s wife.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">NATHAN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">Stay, you’ll not find her—she is +now with Sittah,<br /> +The Sultan’s sister.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">TEMPLAR.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> How long since, and +wherefore?</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">NATHAN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">And would you there behold her brother, come<br +/> +Thither with me.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">TEMPLAR.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> Her brother, whose +then? Sittah’s<br /> +Or Recha’s do you mean?</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">NATHAN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">Both, both, perchance.<br /> +Come this way—I beseech you, come with me.</p> +<p style="text-align: right">[<i>Leads off the Templar with +him</i>.</p> +<h4><span class="smcap">Scene</span>.—The Sultan’s +Palace. A Room in Sittah’s Apartment.</h4> +<p style="text-align: center"><span class="smcap">Sittah</span> +<i>and</i> <span class="smcap">Recha</span>.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">SITTAH.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">How I am pleased with thee, sweet girl! +But do<br /> +Shake off this perturbation, be not anxious,<br /> +Be not alarmed, I want to hear thee talk—<br /> +Be cheerful.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">RECHA.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> Princess!</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">SITTAH.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> No, not +princess, child.<br /> +Call me thy friend, or Sittah, or thy sister,<br /> +Or rather aunt, for I might well be thine;<br /> +So young, so good, so prudent, so much knowledge,<br /> +You must have read a great deal to be thus.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">RECHA.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">I read—you’re laughing, Sittah, at +your sister,<br /> +I scarce can read.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">SITTAH.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> Scarce can, you little +fibber.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">RECHA.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">My father’s hand or so—I thought +you spoke<br /> +Of books.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">SITTAH.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> Aye, surely so I did, of +books.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">RECHA.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">Well really now it puzzles me to read them.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">SITTAH.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">In earnest?</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">RECHA.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> Yes, in earnest, for my +father<br /> +Hates cold book-learning, which makes an impression<br /> +With its dead letters only on the brain.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">SITTAH.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">What say you? Aye, he’s not unright +in that.<br /> +So then the greater part of what you know—</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">RECHA.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">I know but from his mouth—of most of +it<br /> +I could relate to you, the how, the where,<br /> +The why he taught it me.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">SITTAH.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> So it clings closer,<br /> +And the whole soul drinks in th’ instruction.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">RECHA.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> Yes,<br /> +And Sittah certainly has not read much.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">SITTAH.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">How so? Not that I’m vain of having +read;<br /> +But what can be thy reason? Speak out boldly,<br /> +Thy reason for it.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">RECHA.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> She is so right down,<br /> +Unartificial—only like herself<br /> +And books do seldom leave us so; my father<br /> +Says.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">SITTAH.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> What a man thy father is, my +Recha.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">RECHA.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">Is not he?</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">SITTAH.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> How he always hits the +mark.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">RECHA.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">Does not he? And this father—</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">SITTAH.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> Love, what +ails thee?</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">RECHA.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">This father—</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">SITTAH.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> God, thou’rt +weeping</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">RECHA.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> And this +father—<br /> +It must have vent, my heart wants room, wants room.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">SITTAH.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">Child, child, what ails you, Recha?</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">RECHA.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> And this +father<br /> +I am to lose.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">SITTAH.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> Thou lose him, O no, +never:<br /> +Arise, be calm, how so? It must not be.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">RECHA.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">So shall thy offer not have been in vain,<br /> +To be my friend, my sister.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">SITTAH.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> Maid, I +am.<br /> +Rise then, or I must call for help.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">RECHA.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> Forgive,<br +/> +My agony made me awhile forgetful<br /> +With whom I am. Tears, sobbing, and despair,<br /> +Can not avail with Sittah. Cool calm reason<br /> +Alone is over her omnipotent;<br /> +Whose cause that pleads before her, he has conquered.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">SITTAH.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">Well, then!</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">RECHA.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">My friend, my sister, suffer not<br /> +Another father to be forced upon me.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">SITTAH.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">Another father to be forced upon thee—<br +/> +Who can do that, or wish to do it, Recha?</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">RECHA.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">Who? Why my good, my evil genius, +Daya,<br /> +She, she can wish it, will it—and can do it.<br /> +You do not know this dear good evil Daya.<br /> +God, God forgive it her—reward her for it;<br /> +So much good she has done me, so much evil.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">SITTAH.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">Evil to thee—much goodness she +can’t have.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">RECHA.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">O yes, she has indeed.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">SITTAH.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> Who is she?</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">RECHA.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> Who?<br /> +A Christian, who took care of all my childhood.<br /> +You cannot think how little she allowed me<br /> +To miss a mother—God reward her for it—<br /> +But then she has so teased, so tortured me.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">SITTAH.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">And about what? Why, how, when?</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">RECHA.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> The poor +woman,<br /> +I tell thee, is a Christian—and she must<br /> +From love torment—is one of those enthusiasts<br /> +Who think they only know the one true road<br /> +To God.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">SITTAH.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> I comprehend thee.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">RECHA.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> And who feel<br /> +Themselves in duty bound to point it out<br /> +To every one who is not in this path,<br /> +To lead, to drag them into it. And indeed<br /> +They can’t do otherwise consistently;<br /> +For if theirs really be the only road<br /> +On which ’tis safe to travel—they cannot<br /> +With comfort see their friends upon another<br /> +Which leads to ruin, to eternal ruin:<br /> +Else were it possible at the same instant<br /> +To love and hate the same man. Nor is ’t this<br /> +Which forces me to be aloud complainant.<br /> +Her groans, her prayers, her warnings, and her threats,<br /> +I willingly should have abided longer—<br /> +Most willingly—they always called up thoughts<br /> +Useful and good; and whom does it not flatter<br /> +To be by whomsoever held so dear,<br /> +So precious, that they cannot bear the thought<br /> +Of parting with us at some time for ever?</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">SITTAH.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">Most true.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">RECHA.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> But—but—at last +this goes too far;<br /> +I’ve nothing to oppose to it, neither patience,<br /> +Neither reflection—nothing.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">SITTAH.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> How, to +what?</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">RECHA.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">To what she has just now, as she will have it, +<br /> +Discovered to me.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">SITTAH.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> How discovered to thee?</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">RECHA.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">Yes, just this instant. Coming +hitherward<br /> +We past a fallen temple of the Christians—<br /> +She all at once stood still, seemed inly struggling,<br /> +Turned her moist eyes to heaven, and then on me.<br /> +Come, says she finally, let us to the right<br /> +Thro’ this old fane—she leads the way, I follow.<br +/> +My eyes with horror overran the dim<br /> +And tottering ruin—all at once she stops<br /> +By the sunk steps of a low Moorish altar.—<br /> +O how I felt, when there, with streaming tears<br /> +And wringing hands, prostrate before my feet<br /> +She fell</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">SITTAH.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> Good child—</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">RECHA.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> And by the +holy Virgin,<br /> +Who there had hearkened many a prayer, and wrought<br /> +Many a wonder, she conjured, intreated,<br /> +With looks of heartfelt sympathy and love,<br /> +I would at length take pity of myself—<br /> +At least forgive, if she must now unfold<br /> +What claims her church had on me.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">SITTAH.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> Ah! I +guessed it.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">RECHA.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">That I am sprung of Christian +blood—baptised—<br /> +Not Nathan’s daughter—and he not my father.<br /> +God, God, he not my father! Sittah, Sittah,<br /> +See me once more low at thy feet.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">SITTAH.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> O Recha,<br +/> +Not so; arise, my brother’s coming, rise.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span class="smcap">Saladin</span>, +<span class="smcap">Sittah</span>, <i>and</i> <span +class="smcap">Recha</span>.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">SALADIN</span> (<i>entering</i>).</p> +<p class="poetry">What is the matter, Sittah?</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">SITTAH.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> She is +swooned—<br /> +God—</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">SALADIN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> Who?</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">SITTAH.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> You know +sure.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">SALADIN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> What, our +Nathan’s daughter?<br /> +What ails her?</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">SITTAH.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> Child, come to thyself, the +sultan.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">RECHA.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">No, I’ll not rise, not rise, not look +upon<br /> +The Sultan’s countenance—I’ll not admire<br /> +The bright reflection of eternal justice<br /> +And mercy on his brow, and in his eye,<br /> +Before—</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">SALADIN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> Rise, rise.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">RECHA.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> Before he +shall have promised—</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">SALADIN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">Come, come, I promise whatsoe’er thy +prayer.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">RECHA.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">Nor more nor less than leave my father to +me,<br /> +And me to him. As yet I cannot tell<br /> +What other wants to be my father. Who<br /> +Can want it, care I not to inquire. Does blood<br /> +Alone then make the father? blood alone?</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">SALADIN</span> (<i>raising her</i>).</p> +<p class="poetry">Who was so cruel in thy breast to shed<br /> +This wild suspicion? Is it proved, made clear?</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">RECHA.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">It must, for Daya had it from my nurse,<br /> +Whose dying lips intrusted it to her.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">SALADIN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">Dying, perhaps delirious; if ’twere +true,<br /> +Blood only does not make by much the father,<br /> +Scarcely the father of a brute, scarce gives<br /> +The first right to endeavour at deserving<br /> +The name of father. If there be two fathers<br /> +At strife for thee, quit both, and take a third,<br /> +And take me for thy father.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">SITTAH.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> Do it, do it.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">SALADIN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">I will be a kind father—but methinks<br +/> +A better thought occurs, what hast thou need<br /> +Of father upon father? They will die,<br /> +So that ’tis better to look out by times<br /> +For one that starts fair, and stakes life with life<br /> +On equal terms. Knowst thou none such?</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">SITTAH.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> My +brother,<br /> +Don’t make her blush.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">SALADIN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">Why that was half my project.<br /> +Blushing so well becomes the ugly, that<br /> +The fair it must make charming—I have ordered<br /> +Thy father Nathan hither, and another,<br /> +Dost guess who ’tis? one other.—Sittah, you<br /> +Will not object?</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">SITTAH.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> Brother—</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">SALADIN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> And when he +comes,<br /> +Sweet girl, then blush to crimson.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">RECHA.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> Before +whom—<br /> +Blush?</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">SALADIN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> Little hypocrite—or +else grow pale,<br /> +Just as thou willst and canst. Already there?</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">SITTAH</span> (<i>to a female slave who comes +in</i>).</p> +<p class="poetry">Well, be they ushered in. Brother, +’tis they.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span class="smcap">Saladin</span>, +<span class="smcap">Sittah</span>, <span +class="smcap">Recha</span>, <span class="smcap">Nathan</span>, +<i>and</i> <span class="smcap">Templar</span>.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">SALADIN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">Welcome, my dear good friends. Nathan, to +you<br /> +I’ve first to mention, you may send and fetch<br /> +Your monies when you will.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">NATHAN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> Sultan—</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">SALADIN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> And now<br +/> +I’m at your service.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">NATHAN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> Sultan—</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">SALADIN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> For my +treasures<br /> +Are all arrived. The caravan is safe.<br /> +I’m richer than I’ve been these many years.<br /> +Now tell me what you wish for, to achieve<br /> +Some splendid speculation—you in trade<br /> +Like us, have never too much ready cash.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">NATHAN</span> (<i>going towards Recha</i>).</p> +<p class="poetry">Why first about this trifle?—I behold<br +/> +An eye in tears, which ’tis far more important<br /> +To me to dry. My Recha thou hast wept,<br /> +What hast thou lost? Thou art still, I trust, my +daughter.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">RECHA.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">My father!</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">NATHAN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> That’s enough, we are +understood<br /> +By one another; but be calm, be cheerful.<br /> +If else thy heart be yet thy own—if else<br /> +No threatened loss thy trembling bosom wring<br /> +Thy father shall remain to thee.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">RECHA.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> None, +none.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">TEMPLAR.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">None, none—then I’m deceived. +What we don’t fear<br /> +To lose, we never fancied, never wished<br /> +Ourselves possessed of. But ’tis well, ’tis +well.<br /> +Nathan, this changes all—all. Saladin,<br /> +At thy command we came, but I misled thee,<br /> +Trouble thyself no further.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">SALADIN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> Always headlong;<br /> +Young man, must every will then bow to thine,<br /> +Interpret all thy meanings?</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">TEMPLAR.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> Thou hast +heard,<br /> +Sultan, hast seen.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">SALADIN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> Aye, ’twas a little +awkward<br /> +Not to be certain of thy cause.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">TEMPLAR.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> I now<br /> +Do know my doom,</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">SALADIN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> Pride in an act of service<br +/> +Revokes the benefit. What thou hast saved<br /> +Is therefore not thy own, or else the robber,<br /> +Urged by his avarice thro’ fire-crumbling halls,<br /> +Were like thyself a hero. Come, sweet maid,</p> +<p style="text-align: right">[<i>Advances toward Recha in order +to lead her up to the Templar</i>.</p> +<p class="poetry">Come, stickle not for niceties with him.<br /> +Other—he were less warm and proud, and had<br /> +Paused, and not saved thee. Balance then the one<br /> +Against the other, and put him to the blush,<br /> +Do what he should have done—own thou thy love—<br /> +Make him thy offer, and if he refuse,<br /> +Or o’er forgot how infinitely more<br /> +By this thou do for him than he for thee—<br /> +What, what in fact has he then done for thee<br /> +But make himself a little sooty? That<br /> +(Else he has nothing of my Assad in him,<br /> +But only wears his mask) that was mere sport,<br /> +Come, lovely girl.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">SITTAH.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> Go, go, my love, this step<br +/> +Is for thy gratitude too short, too trifling.</p> +<p style="text-align: right">[<i>They are each taking one of +Recha’s hands when Nathan with a solemn gesture of +prohibition says</i>,</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">NATHAN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">Hold, Saladin—hold, Sittah.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">SALADIN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> Ha! thou +too?</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">NATHAN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">One other has to speak.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">SALADIN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> Who denies that?<br /> +Unquestionably, Nathan, there belongs<br /> +A vote to such a foster-father—and<br /> +The first, if you require it. You perceive<br /> +I know how all the matter lies.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">NATHAN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> Not all—<br /> +I speak not of myself. There is another,<br /> +A very different man, whom, Saladin,<br /> +I must first talk with.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">SALADIN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> Who?</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">NATHAN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> Her brother.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">SALADIN.</span></p> +<p +class="poetry"> Recha’s?</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">NATHAN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">Yes, her’s.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">RECHA.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> My brother—have I then +a brother?</p> +<p style="text-align: right">[<i>The templar starts from his +silent and sullen inattention</i>.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">TEMPLAR.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">Where is this brother? Not yet +here? ’Twas here<br /> +I was to find him.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">NATHAN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> Patience yet a while.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">TEMPLAR</span> (<i>very bitterly</i>).</p> +<p class="poetry">He has imposed a father on the girl,<br /> +He’ll find her up a brother.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">SALADIN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> That was wanting!<br /> +Christian, this mean suspicion ne’er had past<br /> +The lips of Assad. Go but on—</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">NATHAN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> Forgive +him,<br /> +I can forgive him readily. Who knows<br /> +What in his place, and at his time of life,<br /> +We might have thought ourselves? Suspicion, knight,</p> +<p style="text-align: right">[<i>Approaching the templar in a +friendly manner</i>.</p> +<p class="poetry">Succeeds soon to mistrust. Had you at +first<br /> +Favoured me with your real name.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">TEMPLAR.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> How? +what?</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">NATHAN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">You are no Stauffen.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">TEMPLAR.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> Who then am I? +Speak.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">NATHAN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">Conrade of Stauffen is no name of yours.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">TEMPLAR.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">What is my name then?</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">NATHAN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> Guy of Filnek.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">TEMPLAR.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> How?</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">NATHAN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">You startle—</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">TEMPLAR.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> And with reason. Who +says that?</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">NATHAN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">I, who can tell you more. Meanwhile, +observe<br /> +I do not tax you with a falsehood.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">TEMPLAR.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> No?</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">NATHAN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">May be you with propriety can wear<br /> +Yon name as well.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">TEMPLAR.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> I think so too. +(God—God<br /> +Put that speech on his tongue.)</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">NATHAN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> In fact your mother—<br +/> +She was a Stauffen: and her brother’s name,<br /> +(The uncle to whose care you were resigned,<br /> +When by the rigour of the climate chased,<br /> +Your parents quitted Germany to seek<br /> +This land once more) was Conrade. He perhaps<br /> +Adopted you as his own son and heir.<br /> +Is it long since you hither travelled with him?<br /> +Is he alive yet?</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">TEMPLAR.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> So in fact it stands.<br /> +What shall I say? Yes, Nathan, ’tis all right:<br /> +Tho’ he himself is dead. I came to Syria<br /> +With the last reinforcement of our order,<br /> +But—but what has all this long tale to do<br /> +With Recha’s brother, whom—</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">NATHAN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> Your father—</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">TEMPLAR.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> Him,<br /> +Him did you know?</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">NATHAN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">He was my friend.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">TEMPLAR.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> Your +friend?<br /> +And is that possible?</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">NATHAN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> He called himself<br /> +Leonard of Filnek, but he was no German.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">TEMPLAR.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">You know that too?</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">NATHAN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> He had espoused a German,<br +/> +And followed for a time your mother thither.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">TEMPLAR.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">No more I beg of you—But Recha’s +brother—</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">NATHAN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">Art thou</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">TEMPLAR.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> I, I her brother—</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">RECHA.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> He, my +brother?</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">SITTAH.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">So near akin—</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span class="GutSmall">RECHA</span> +(<i>offers to clasp him</i>).</p> +<p class="poetry"> My brother!</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">TEMPLAR</span> (<i>steps back</i>).</p> +<p class="poetry"> Brother to +her—</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span class="GutSmall">RECHA</span> +(<i>turning to Nathan</i>).</p> +<p class="poetry">It cannot be, his heart knows nothing of it.<br +/> +We are deceivers, God.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">SALADIN</span> (<i>to the templar</i>).</p> +<p class="poetry"> Deceivers, yes;<br /> +All is deceit in thee, face, voice, walk, gesture,<br /> +Nothing belongs to thee. How, not acknowledge<br /> +A sister such as she? Go.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">TEMPLAR</span> (<i>modestly approaching +him</i>).</p> +<p class="poetry"> Sultan, Sultan<br /> +O do not misinterpret my amazement—<br /> +Thou never saw’st in such a moment, prince,<br /> +Thy Assad’s heart—mistake not him and me.</p> +<p style="text-align: right">[<i>Hastening towards +Nathan</i>.</p> +<p class="poetry">O Nathan, you have taken, you have given,<br /> +Both with full hands indeed; and now—yes—yes,<br /> +You give me more than you have taken from me,<br /> +Yes, infinitely more—my sister—sister.</p> +<p style="text-align: right">[<i>Embraces Recha</i>.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">NATHAN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">Blanda of Filnek.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">TEMPLAR.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> Blanda, ha! not Recha,<br /> +Your Recha now no longer—you resign her,<br /> +Give her her Christian name again, and then<br /> +For my sake turn her off. Why Nathan, Nathan,<br /> +Why must she suffer for it? she for me?</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">NATHAN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">What mean you? O my children, both my +children—<br /> +For sure my daughter’s brother is my child,<br /> +So soon as he but will it!</p> +<p style="text-align: right">[<i>While they embrace Nathan by +turns</i>, <i>Saladin draws nigh to Sittah</i>.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">SALADIN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> What sayst thou<br /> +Sittah to this?</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">SITTAH.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> I’m deeply moved.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">SALADIN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> And I<br /> +Half tremble at the thought of the emotion<br /> +Still greater, still to come. Nathan, a word</p> +<p style="text-align: right">[<i>While he converses with +Nathan</i>, <i>Sittah goes to express her sympathy to the +others</i>.</p> +<p class="poetry">With thee apart. Wast thou not saying +also<br /> +That her own father was no German born?<br /> +What was he then? Whence was he?</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">NATHAN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> He +himself<br /> +Never intrusted me with that. From him<br /> +I knew it not.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">SALADIN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">You say he was no Frank?</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">NATHAN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">No, that he owned: he loved to talk the +Persian.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">SALADIN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">The Persian—need I more? ’Tis +he—’twas he!</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">NATHAN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">Who?</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">SALADIN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> Assad certainly, my brother +Assad.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">NATHAN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">If thou thyself perceive it, be assured;<br /> +Look in this book—</p> +<p style="text-align: right">[<i>Gives the breviary</i>.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">SALADIN</span> (<i>eagerly looking</i>.)</p> +<p class="poetry"> O ’tis his hand, his +hand,<br /> +I recollect it well.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">NATHAN.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> They know it not;<br /> +It rests with thee what they shall learn of this.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">SALADIN</span> (<i>turning over the +breviary</i>.)</p> +<p class="poetry">I not acknowledge my own brother’s +children,<br /> +Not own my nephew—not my children—I<br /> +Leave them to thee? Yes, Sittah, it is they,</p> +<p style="text-align: right">[<i>Aloud</i>.</p> +<p class="poetry">They are my brother’s and thy +brother’s children.</p> +<p style="text-align: right">[<i>Rushes to embrace them</i>.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">SITTAH.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">What do I hear? Could it be +otherwise?</p> +<p style="text-align: right">[<i>The like</i>.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">SALADIN</span> (<i>to the templar</i>).</p> +<p class="poetry">Now, proud boy, thou shalt love me, thou must +love me,</p> +<p style="text-align: right">[<i>To Recha</i>.</p> +<p class="poetry">And I am, what I offered to become,<br /> +With or without thy leave.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">SITTAH.</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> I too—I too.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">SALADIN</span> (<i>to the templar</i>.)</p> +<p class="poetry">My son—my Assad—my lost +Assad’s son.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">TEMPLAR.</span></p> +<p class="poetry">I of thy blood—then those were more than +dreams<br /> +With which they used to lull my infancy—<br /> +Much more.</p> +<p style="text-align: right">[<i>Falls at the Sultan’s +feet</i>.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">SALADIN</span> (<i>raising him</i>.)</p> +<p class="poetry"> Now mark his malice. +Something of it<br /> +He knew, yet would have let me butcher him—<br /> +Boy, boy!</p> +<p style="text-align: right">[<i>During the silent continuance of +reciprocal embraces the curtain falls</i>.</p> +<p>***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK NATHAN THE WISE***</p> +<pre> + + +***** This file should be named 3820-h.htm or 3820-h.zip****** + + +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: +http://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/3/8/2/3820 + + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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