Act V Scene I — The Room in Saladin’s Palace. The Treasure Still Piled Up
(Saladin, and several Mamelukes.)
Saladin (as He Enters)
There lies the gold—and no one yet has seen
The Dervise. He will probably be found
Over the chess-board. Play can often make
A man forget himself. Then why not me?
But patience. What’s the matter?
1st Mameluke
Oh, good news!
Joy, Sultan! joy. The Cairo caravan
Is safe arrived, and from the Nile it brings
The seven years’ tribute.
Saladin
Bravo, Ibrahim!
You always were a welcome messenger,
And now at length—accept my heartfelt thanks
For the good tidings.
1st Mameluke (Waiting)
(Let me have them, then!)
Saladin
What are you waiting for? Go.
1st Mameluke
Nothing more
For my good news?
Saladin
What further?
1st Mameluke
Messengers
Of good are paid. Am I to be the first
Whom Saladin has learnt to pay with words?
The first to whom he proves ungenerous?
Saladin
Go, take a purse.
1st Mameluke
No, no—not now. Not if
You’d give them all to me.
Saladin
All? Hold, young man!
Come hither. Take these purses—take these two.
What, going? And shall I be conquered thus
In generosity? for surely ’tis
More difficult for this man to refuse
Than for the Sultan to bestow. Then, here
Here, Ibrahim! Shall I be tempted, just
Before my death, to be a different man?
Shall Saladin not die like Saladin?
Then wherefore has he lived like Saladin?
(Enter a second Mameluke.)
2nd Mameluke
Hail, Sultan!
Saladin
If you come and bring the news——
2nd Mameluke
That the Egyptian convoy is arrived.
Saladin
I know it.
2nd Mameluke
Then I come too late.
Saladin
Too late?
Wherefore too late? There, for your tidings take
A purse or two.
2nd Mameluke
Say three.
Saladin
You reckon well;
But take them.
2nd Mameluke
A third messenger will come
Ere long, if he be able.
Saladin
Wherefore so?
2nd Mameluke
He may perhaps, ere this, have brok’n his neck.
We three, when we had heard of the approach
Of the rich caravan, mounted our steeds,
And galloped hitherward. The foremost fell,
Then I was first, and I continued so
Into the town; but that sly fellow there,
Who knew the streets——
Saladin
But where is he who fell?
Go seek him out.
2nd Mameluke
That I will quickly do,
And if he lives, one half of this is his. (Exit.)
Saladin
Oh, what a noble fellow! who can boast
Such Mamelukes as these? And may I not,
Without conceit, imagine that my life
Has helped to make them so? Avaunt the thought!
That I should ever teach them otherwise.
3rd Mameluke
Sultan!
Saladin
Are you the man who fell?
3rd Mameluke
No, Sire.
I have to tell you that the Emir Mansor,
Who led the caravan, is just arrived.
Saladin
Then bring him quickly.—There he is already.
Scene II
The Emir Mansor and Saladin.
Saladin
Emir, you’re welcome! What has happened to you,
Mansor? we have expected you for long.
Mansor
This letter will explain how, in Thebais,
Some discontents required the sabred hand
Of Abulkassen. But, since then, our march
Has been pressed forward.
Saladin
I believe it all.
But take, good Mansor—take, without delay,
Another escort if you will proceed,
And take the treasure on to Lebanon:
The greater part is destined for my father.
Mansor
Most willingly.
Saladin
And let your escort be
A strong and trusty one, for Lebanon
Is far from quiet, and the Templars there
Are on the stir again; be cautious, then
Come, I must see your troop, and order all.
(To a slave.) Say I shall presently return to Sittah.
Scene III
(The palm-trees before Nathan’s house.)
The Templar, walking up and down.
Templar
Into this house I never enter more:
He’ll come to me at last. Yet, formerly,
They used to watch for me with longing eyes;
And now——The time may come he’ll send to beg,
Most civilly, that I will get me hence,
And not pace up and down before his door!
No matter: though I feel a little hurt.
I know not what has thus embittered me:
He answered yes, and has refused me naught,
So far, and Saladin has pledged himself
To bring him round. Say, does the Christian live
Deeper in me than the Jew lurks in him?
Ah! who can truly estimate himself?
How comes it else that I should grudge him so
The trifling booty, which he took such pains
To rob the Christians of? No trifling theft!
No less than such a creature! And to whom
Does she belong? Oh, surely not to him,
The thoughtless slave, who floated the mere block
On to life’s barren strand, then disappeared.
Rather to him, the artist, whose fine soul
Has from the block moulded this godlike form,
And graved it there. And yet in spite of him,
The Christian, who begot this beauteous maid,
Recha’s true father must be still the Jew.
Were I to fancy her a Christian now,
Bereft of all the Jew has given to her—
Which only such a Jew could have bestowed—
Speak out, my heart—where would have been her charm’
It had been nothing—little; then her smile
Had been a pretty twisting of the mouth
And that which caused it were unworthy deemed
Of the enchantment blooming on her lips.
No: not her very smile! I’ve seen sweet smiles
Squandered on pride, on foppery, on lies,
On flatterers, on wicked wooers spent:
And did they charm me then? Did they awake
The wish to flutter out existence in
Their sunshine? And I’m angry now with him
Who gave this higher value to the maid?
And wherefore so? Do I deserve the taunt
With which I was dismissed by Saladin?
’Twas bad enough he should think thus of me.
How wicked, how contemptible, alas!
I must have seemed to him! And for a girl!
Conrad, this will not do. Avaunt such thoughts!
And what if Daja has been chattering
Of things not easy to be proved? But see,
He comes, engaged in converse; and with whom?
With him, the Friar. Then he knows all: perhaps
He has betrayed him to the Patriarch.
O Conrad! what vile mischief hast thou done!
O! that one spark of love, that wayward passion,
Should so inflame the brain! But, quick! resolve;
What’s to be done? Stay, step aside awhile;
Perhaps the Friar will leave him. Let us see.
Scene IV
Nathan and the Friar.
Nathan (Approaching Him)
Good brother, once more, thanks.
Friar
The same to you.
Nathan
Why thanks from you? Because I’m wayward, and Would force upon you what you cannot use?
Friar
The book you have did not belong to me.
It is the maid’s, is all her property,
Her only patrimony—save yourself.
God grant you ne’er have reason to repent
Of what you’ve done for her!
Nathan
Impossible!
That cannot be. Fear not.
Friar
Alas! alas!
These Patriarchs and Templars——
Nathan
Cannot work
Such evil as to force me to repent.
But are you sure it is a Templar who
Urges the Patriarch?
Friar
It is none else;
A Templar talked with him just now, and all
I hear confirms the rumour.
Nathan
But there is
Only one Templar in Jerusalem,
And him I know. He is a friend of mine,
A noble, open-hearted youth.
Friar
The same.
But what one is at heart, and what one must
Appear in active life, are not the same.
Nathan
Alas! ’tis true. And so let every one
Act as he will, and do his best, or worst.
With your book, brother, I defy them all!
I’m going straightway with it to the Sultan.
Friar
Then God be with you! Here I take my leave.
Nathan
What! without seeing her? But come again,
Come soon—come often. If the Patriarch
To-day learns nothing. Well! no matter now!
Tell him the whole to-day, or when you will.
Friar
Not I. Farewell! (Exit.)
Nathan
Do not forget us, brother!
O God! I could sink down upon my knees,
Here on this spot! Behold, the knotted skein
Which has so often troubled me, at last
Untangles of itself. I feel at ease,
Since henceforth nothing in this world remains
That I need hide. Henceforth, I am as free
Before mankind, as in the sight of God.
Who only does not need to judge us men
By deeds, which oftentimes are not our own.
Scene V
Nathan and the Templar.
(The latter advancing towards him from the side.)
Templar
Hold, Nathan, hold! Take me along with you.
Nathan
Who calls? You, Templar! Where can you have been
That you could not be met with at the Sultan’s?
Templar
We missed each other; do not be displeased.
Nathan
Not I, but Saladin.
Templar
You had just gone.
Nathan
Oh, then, you spoke with him. I’m satisfied.
Templar
Yes; but he wants to talk with us together.
Nathan
So much the better. Come with me; I go
Direct to him.
Templar
Say, Nathan, may I ask
Who left you even now?
Nathan
What! don’t you know?
Templar
Was it that worthy fellow, the good friar,
Whom the old Patriarch employs at will
To work his ends?
Nathan
The same—the very same.
Templar
’Tis a prime hit to make simplicity
The workman of deceit.
Nathan
Yes, if he use
The fool, and not the pious man.
Templar
This last
The Patriarch ne’er trusts.
Nathan
Depend on this,
That man will not assist the Patriarch
To a wicked end.
Templar
Well, so I think myself.
But has he told you aught of me?
Nathan
Of you?
He scarcely knows your name.
Templar
That’s like enough.
Nathan
He spoke to me about a Templar, who——
Templar
Who what?
Nathan
But then he never mentioned you.
Templar
Who knows? Come tell me, Nathan, all he said.
Nathan
Who has accused me to the Patriarch?
Templar
Accused you! With his leave, that is untrue.
No! Hear me, Nathan! I am not the man
E’er to deny my actions. What I’ve done
I’ve done—and there’s an end. Nor am I one
Who would maintain that all I’ve done is right.
But should one fault condemn me? Am I not
Resolved on better deeds for time to come?
And who is ignorant how much the man
Who wills it may improve? Then hear me, Nathan:
I am the Templar talked of by the Friar,
Who has accused—you know what maddened me,
What set my blood on fire within my veins—
Fool that I was! I had almost resolved
To fling myself both soul and body, straight
Into your arms. But how was I received?
How did you meet me, Nathan? Cold—or worse.
Lukewarm—far worse than cold. With cautious words,
Well weighed and measured, Nathan, you took care
To put me off, and with calm questions, asked
About my parentage, and God knows what,
You sought to meet my suit. I cannot now
Dwell on it and be patient. Hear me further.
While in this ferment, Daja suddenly
Drew near to me and whispered in my ear
A secret which cleared up the mystery.
Nathan
What was it?
Templar
Hear me to the end. I thought
The treasure you had from the Christians stolen,
You would not promptly to a Christian yield;
And so the project struck me, with good speed,
To bring you to extremities.
Nathan
Good speed?
Good, good? pray where’s the good!
Templar
But hear me out.
I own my error; you are free from guilt;
That prating Daja knows not what she says.
She’s hostile to you, and she seeks to twine
A dangerous snare around you. Be it so.
I’m but a crazed enthusiast, doubly mad,
Aiming at far too much, or much too little.
That may be also true. Forgive me, Nathan.
Nathan
If you conceive thus of me——
Templar
Well, in short.
I saw the Patriarch—but named you not.
’Twas false to say so, for I only told
The case in general terms, to sound his mind.
And that I also might have left undone,
For knew I not the Patriarch to be
An arrant, subtle knave? And might I not
As well have told you all the case at first?
Or was it right in me to risk the loss
Of such a father to the hapless maid?
But what has happened now? The Patriarch,
Ever consistent in his villainy,
Has all at once restored me to myself.
For hear me, Nathan, hear me! Were he now
To learn your name, what more could then occur?
He cannot seize the maid, if she belong
To some one else, and not to you alone.
’Tis from your house alone she can be dragged
Into a convent: grant her, then, I pray,
Grant her to me! Then come the Patriarch!
He’ll hardly dare to take my wife from me.
Oh! give her to me. Be she yours or not—
Your daughter—Christian—Jewess—’tis all one—
Or be she nothing—I will ne’er inquire,
Or in my lifetime ask you what she is,
’Tis all alike to me.
Nathan
Do you then think
That to conceal the truth I am compelled?
Templar
No matter.
Nathan
I have ne’er denied the truth
To you, or any one whom it concerned
To know the fact, that she’s of Christian birth,
And that the maid is my adopted child.
Why I have not informed her of the truth,
I need explain to none but to herself.
Templar
Nathan; no need of that, it were not well
That she should see you in a different light;
Then spare her the discovery. As yet
She’s yours alone—no other’s—to bestow.
Then grant her to me, Nathan, I implore—
Grant her to me: I only, I alone,
Can rescue her a second time—and will.
Nathan
Yes, you could once have saved her, but alas!
’Tis now too late.
Templar
Too late! ah! say not so.
Nathan
Thanks to the Patriarch.
Templar
Why, thanks to him?
Why should we thank the Patriarch! For what?
Nathan
That now we know her relatives, and know
Into whose hands Recha may be restored.
Templar
Let him give thanks who shall have better cause
To thank him.
Nathan
But you must receive her now
From other hands than mine.
Templar
Alas, poor maid!
O hapless Recha! what has chanced to thee,
That what to other orphans had appeared
A real blessing, is to thee a curse!
But, Nathan, where are these new relatives?
Nathan
Where are they?
Templar
Ay, both where and who are they?
Nathan
Her brother is discovered, and to him
You must address yourself.
Templar
Her brother! Ha!
And what is he—a soldier or a priest?
Tell me at once what I’ve to hope from him.
Nathan
I hear he’s neither—or he’s both. As yet
I do not know him thoroughly.
Templar
What more?
Nathan
He is a gallant fellow, and with him
Recha may be content.
Templar
But he’s a Christian.
At times I know not what to make of you.
Take it not ill, good Nathan, that I ask,
Must she not henceforth play the Christian,
Associate with Christians, and at last
Become the character she long has played?
Will not the tares at length grow up and choke
The pure wheat you have sown? And does not that Affect you? Yet you say she’ll be content
When with her brother.
Nathan
As I think and hope.
For should she e’er have need of anything,
Has she not you and me?
Templar
What can she need
When with her brother. Gladly he’ll provide
His dear new sister with a thousand robes,
With dainties, and with toys and finery.
And what could any sister wish for more—
Unless, perhaps, a husband? And him too,
Him too the brother, in due time, will find;
And the more Christian he, the better!—Nathan,
How sad to think the angel you have formed,
Should now be marred by others!
Nathan
Be assured
He’ll always prove deserving of our love.
Templar
Nay speak not so; of my love, speak not so,
For it can brook no loss, however small,
Not e’en a name. But, hold! Has she as yet
Any suspicion of these late events?
Nathan
’Tis possible, and yet I know not how.
Templar
It matters not; she must, in either case,
First learn from me what fate is threat’ning her.
My purpose not to speak with her again,
And ne’er to see her more, till I should call
Your Recha mine, is gone. I take my leave.
Nathan
Nay, whither would you go?
Templar
At once to her,
To learn if she be bold enough at heart,
To fix upon the only course that now
Is worthy of her.
Nathan
Name it.
Templar
It is this:
That henceforth she should never care to know
Aught of her brother or of you.
Nathan
What more?
Templar
To follow me—even if it were her fate
To wed a Mussulman.
Nathan
Stay, Templar, stay!
You will not find her. She’s with Sittah now,
The Sultan’s sister.
Templar
Wherefore, and since when?
Nathan
If you desire to see her brother, come,
Follow me straight.
Templar
Her brother, say you? Whose?
Recha’s, or Sittah’s?
Nathan
Both—ay, both, perhaps.
But come this way, I pray you. Come with me.
(Nathan leads the Templar away.)
Scene VI — Sittah’s Harem
Sittah and Recha engaged in conversation.
Sittah
How I am pleased with you, sweet girl. But, come,
Shake off these fears, and be no more alarmed,
Be happy, cheerful. Let me hear you talk.
Recha
Princess!
Sittah
Nay, child, not princess! Call me friend,
Or Sittah—or your sister—or dear mother,
For I might well be so to you—so good,
So prudent, and so young! How much you know,
How much you must have read!
Recha
Read, Sittah! now
You’re mocking me, for I can scarcely read.
Sittah
Scarce read, you young deceiver!
Recha
Yes, perhaps
My father’s hand; I thought you spoke of books.
Sittah
And so I did—of books.
Recha
They puzzle me
To read.
Sittah
Indeed!
Recha
I speak, in veriest truth.
My father hates book-learning, which he says,
Makes an impression only on the brain
With lifeless letters.
Sittah
Well, he’s right in that.
And so the greater part of what you know——
Recha
I’ve learnt from his own mouth, and I can tell
The when, the where, and why he taught it me.
Sittah
So it clings closer, and the soul drinks in The full instruction.
Recha
Yes, and Sittah, too,
Has not read much.
Sittah
How so? I am not vain
Of having read, and yet why say you so?
Speak boldly. Tell the reason.
Recha
She’s so plain—
So free from artifice—so like herself.
Sittah
Well!
Recha
And my father says ’tis rarely books
Work that effect.
Sittah
Oh, what a man he is,
Dear Recha!
Recha
Is he not?
Sittah
He never fails
To hit the mark.
Recha
Yes, yes; and yet this father——
Sittah
What ails you, love?
Recha
This father——
Sittah
Oh my God!
You’re weeping.
Recha
And this father—it must forth—
My heart wants room, wants room——
(Throws herself in tears at Sittah’s feet.)
Sittah
What ails you, Recha?
Recha
Yes, I must lose this father!
Sittah
Lose him—never!
Why so? Be calm. Courage! it must not be.
Recha
Your offer to be friend and sister to me
Will now not be in vain.
Sittah
Yes, I am both.
Arise, arise, or I must call for help.
Recha
O pardon! I forget, through agony,
With whom I speak. Tears, sobbing, and despair
Are naught with Sittah. Reason, calm and cool,
Is over her alone omnipotent.
No other argument avails with her.
Sittah
Well, then?
Recha
My friend and sister, suffer not
Another father to be forced on me.
Sittah
Another father to be forced on you!
Who can do that, or wish to do it, love?
Recha
Who but my good, my evil genius, Daja?
She can both wish it and perform the deed.
You do not know this good, this evil Daja.
May God forgive her, and reward her, too,
For she has done me good and evil, both.
Sittah
Evil? Then she has little goodness left.
Recha
Oh, she has much.
Sittah
Who is she?
Recha
Who? a Christian,
Who cared for me in childhood’s early years.
You cannot know how little she allowed
That I should miss a mother’s tender cares—
May God reward her for it!—but she has
Worried and tortured me.
Sittah
Wherefore, and how?
Recha
Poor woman, she’s a Christian, and from love
Has tortured me: a warm enthusiast,
Who thinks she only knows the real road
That leads to God.
Sittah
I understand you now.
Recha
And one of those who feel in duty bound
To point it out to every one who strays
From the plain path, to lead, to drag them in.
And who can censure them? for if the road
They travel is the only one that’s safe,
They cannot, without pain, behold their friends
Pursue a path that lead to endless woe,
Else, at the self-same time, ’twere possible
To love and hate another. Nor does this
Alone compel me to complain aloud.
Her groans, her prayers, her warnings, and her threats
I could have borne much longer willingly.
They always called up good and wholesome thoughts.
Who is not flattered to be held so dear,
And precious by another, that the thought
Of parting pierces him with lasting pain?
Sittah
This is most true.
Recha
And yet this goes too far,
And I have nothing to oppose to it—
Patience, reflection, nothing.
Sittah
How? to what?
Recha
To what she has disclosed to me.
Sittah
Say, when?
Recha
’Tis scarce an instant. Coming hither
We passed a Christian temple on our way;
She all at once stood still, seemed inly moved,
Raised her moist eyes to heaven, then looked on me.
“Come,” she exclaimed at length, “come straight on here,
Through this old fane.” She leads, I follow her.
My eyes with horror overrun the dim
And tottering ruin: all at once she stops
By a low ruined altar’s sunken steps.
O, how I felt, when there, with streaming eyes
And wringing hands, down at my feet she fell!
Sittah
Good child!
Recha
And, by the Holy Virgin, who had heard
So many suppliants’ prayers, and had performed
Full many a wonder there, she begged, implored
With looks of heart-felt sympathy and love,
That I would now take pity on myself,
And pardon her for daring to unfold
The nature of the Church’s claims on me.
Sittah
I guessed as much.
Recha
I’m born of Christian blood,
Have been baptised, and am not Nathan’s child!
Nathan is not my father! God, O God!
He’s not my father, Sittah! Now, behold,
I’m once more prostrate at your feet.
Sittah
Arise!
Recha, arise! behold, my brother comes.
Scene VII
Saladin, Sittah, and Recha.
Saladin
What is the matter, Sittah?
Sittah
She has swooned.
Saladin
Who is she?
Sittah
Don’t you know?
Saladin
’Tis Nathan’s child.
What ails her?
Sittah
Look up, Recha! ’tis the Sultan.
Recha (Crawling to Saladin’s Feet)
No, I’ll not rise—not rise nor even look
Upon the Sultan’s countenance, nor wonder
At the bright lustre of unchanging truth
And goodness on his brow and in his eye,
Before——
Sittah
Rise, rise!
Recha
Before he promises——
Saladin
Come, come! I promise, whatsoe’er your prayer.
Recha
’Tis only this—to leave my father to me,
And me to him. As yet I cannot tell
Who seeks to be my father: who it is Can harbour such a wish I’ll ne’er inquire.
Does blood alone make fathers—blood alone?
Sittah
Who can have been so cruel as to raise
This dire suspicion in my Recha’s breast?
Say, is it proved? beyond all doubt made clear?
Recha
’Tis proved, for Daja had it from my nurse,
Whose dying lips entrusted it to her.
Saladin
Dying! she raved. And even were it true,
A father is not made by blood alone;
Scarcely the father of a savage beast—
Blood only gives the right to earn the name.
Then fear no more, but hear me. If there be
Two fathers who contend for thee, leave both,
And claim a third! O! take me for your father!
Sittah
Oh, do so, Recha, do so!
Saladin
I will be
A good, kind father to you. But, in truth
A better thought occurs. Why should you need
Two fathers? They are mortal, and must die.
’Twere better, Recha, to look out betimes
For one to start with you on equal terms,
And stake his life for thine. You understand?
Sittah
You make her blush!
Saladin
Why that was half my scheme.
Blushing becomes plain features, and will make
A beauteous cheek more beauteous. My commands
Are giv’n to bring your father, Nathan, here.
Another comes as well. You’ll guess his name?
Hither they come! Will you allow it, Sittah?
Sittah
Brother!
Saladin
And when he comes, maid, you must blush
To crimson.
Recha
Sittah! wherefore should I blush?
Saladin
You young dissembler, you will else grow pale!
But as thou wilt and canst. (A female slave enters, and approaches Sittah.) What, here so soon?
Sittah
Well, let them enter. Brother, here they are!
Scene VIII
Nathan, the Templar, and the others.
Saladin
Welcome, my dear good friends! Nathan, to you
I must first mention, you may send and fetch
Your moneys when you will.
Nathan
Sultan——
Saladin
And now
I’m at your service.
Nathan
Sultan——
Saladin
For my gold
Is now arrived; the caravan is safe:
These many years I have not been so rich.
Now, tell me what you wish for, to achieve
Some splendid speculation? You in trade,
Like us, have never too much ready cash.
Nathan
Why speak about this trifle first? I see
An eye in tears (going towards Recha). My Recha, you have wept.
What have you lost? Are you not still my child?
Recha
My father!
Nathan
That’s enough! We’re understood
By one another! But look up—be calm,
Be cheerful! If your heart is still your own,
And if no threatened loss disturb your breast,
Your father is not lost to you!
Recha
None, none!
Templar
None! Then I’m much deceived. What we don’t fear
To lose, we ne’er have loved, and ne’er have wished
To be possessed of. But ’tis well, ’tis well!
Nathan, this changes all! At your command,
We come here, Sultan. You have been misled
By me, and I will trouble you no more!
Saladin
Rash, headlong youth! Must every temper yield
To yours!—and must we all thus guess your mind?
Templar
But, Sultan, you have heard and seen it all.
Saladin
Well, truly, it was awkward to be thus
Uncertain of your cause!
Templar
I know my fate.
Saladin
Whoe’er presumes upon a service done,
Cancels the benefit. What you have saved
Is, therefore, not your own. Or else the thief,
Urged by mere avarice through flaming halls,
Were like yourself a hero. (Advancing towards Recha to lead her to the Templar.) Come, sweet maid!
Be not reserved towards him. Had he been so,
Were he less warm, less proud, he had held back,
And had not saved you. Weigh the former deed
Against the latter, and you’ll make him blush!
Do what he should have done! confess your love!
Make him your offer! and if he refuse,
Or e’er forget how infinitely more
You do for him than he has done for you—
For what, in fact, have been his services,
Save soiling his complexion? a mere sport—
Else has he nothing of my Assad in him,
But only wears his mask. Come, lovely maid.
Sittah
Go, dearest, go! this step is not enough
For gratitude; it is too little.
Nathan
Hold!
Hold, Saladin! hold, Sittah!
Saladin
What would you?
Nathan
It is the duty of another now
To speak.
Saladin
Who questions that? Beyond all doubt
A foster—father has a right to vote
First, if you will. You see I know the whole.
Nathan
Not quite. I speak not, Sultan, of myself.
There is another and a different man
Whom I must first confer with, Saladin.
Saladin
And who is he?
Nathan
Her brother.
Saladin
Recha’s brother?
Nathan
E’en so.
Recha
My brother! Have I then a brother?
Templar (Starting From His Silent and Sullen Inattention)
Where is this brother? Not yet here! ’Twas here
I was to meet him.
Nathan
Patience yet awhile.
Templar (Bitterly)
He has imposed a father on the girl;
He’ll find a brother for her now!
Saladin
Indeed,
That much was wanting. But this mean rebuke,
Christian, had ne’er escaped my Assad’s lips.
Nathan
Forgive him: I forgive him readily.
Who knows what in his youth and in his place
We might ourselves have thought? (Approaching him in
a very friendly manner) Suspicion, knight,
Follows upon reserve. Had you at first
Vouchsafed to me your real name——
Templar
How! what!
Nathan
You are no Stauffen.
Templar
Tell me who I am.
Nathan
Conrad of Stauffen, not.
Templar
Then what’s my name?
Nathan
Leo of Filneck.
Templar
How?
Nathan
You start!
Templar
With reason.
But who says this?
Nathan
I, who can tell you more.
Meanwhile, observe, I tax you not with falsehood.
Templar
Indeed!
Nathan
It may be both names fit you well.
Templar
I think so. (Aside) God inspired him with that thought.
Nathan
Your mother was a Stauffen: and her brother
(The uncle to whose care you were consigned,
When, by the rigour of the climate chased,
Your parents quitted Germany, to seek
This land once more) was Conrad. He, perhaps,
Adopted you as his own son and heir.
Is it long since you travelled hither with him?
Does he still live?
Templar
What shall I answer him?
He speaks the truth. Nathan, ’tis so indeed;
But he himself is dead. I journeyed here,
With the last troops of knights, to reinforce
Our order. But inform me how this tale
Concerns your Recha’s brother.
Nathan
Well, your father——
Templar
What! did you know him too?
Nathan
He was my friend.
Templar
Your friend! Oh, Nathan, is it possible?
Nathan
Oluf of Filneck did he style himself;
But he was not a German.
Templar
You know that?
Nathan
He had espoused a German, and he lived
For some, time with your mother there.
Templar
No more
Of this, I beg. But what of Recha’s brother?
Nathan
It is yourself.
Templar
What, I? am I her brother?
Recha
He, my brother?
Saladin
Are they so near akin?
Recha (Approaching the Templar)
My brother!
Templar (Stepping Back)
I, your brother?
Recha (Stopping and Turning to Nathan)
No, in truth,
It cannot be. His heart makes no response.
O God! we are deceivers.
Saladin (to the Templar)
Say you so?
Is that your thought? All is deceit in you:
The voice, the gesture, and the countenance,
Nothing of these is yours. How! will you not
Acknowledge such a sister? Then begone!
Templar (Approaching Him Humbly)
Oh! do not misinterpret my surprise.
Sultan, you never saw your Assad’s heart
At any time like this. Then do not err,
Mistake not him and me. (Turning to Nathan.) You give me much,
Nathan, and also you take much away,
And yet you give me more than you withdraw—
Ay, infinitely more. My sister, sister! (embraces Recha.)
Nathan
Blanda of Filneck.
Templar
Blanda, ha! not Recha?
Your Recha now no more! Have you resigned
Your child? Give her her Christian name once more,
And for my sake discard her then. Oh, Nathan,
Why must she suffer for a fault of mine?
Nathan
What mean you, oh, my children, both of you?
For sure my daughter’s brother is my child
Whenever he shall wish.
(While they embrace Nathan, Saladin uneasily approaches Sittah.)
Saladin
What say you, sister? Sittah.
Sittah
I’m deeply moved——
Saladin
And I half tremble when
I think of the emotion that must come:
Prepare yourself to bear it as you may.
Sittah
What! How!
Saladin
Nathan, a word—one word with you.
(He joins Nathan, while Sittah approaches the others to express her sympathy, and Nathan and Saladin converse in a low tone.)
Hear, hear me, Nathan. Said you not just now
That he——
Nathan
That who?
Saladin
Her father was not born
In Germany. You know then whence he came?
And what he was?
Nathan
He never told me that.
Saladin
Was he no Frank, nor from the Western land?
Nathan
He said as much. He spoke the Persian tongue.
Saladin
The Persian! need I more? ’Tis he! ’twas he!
Nathan
Who?
Saladin
Assad, my brother Assad, beyond doubt.
Nathan
If you think so, then be assured from this:
Look in this book (handing him the breviary).
Saladin
Oh, ’tis his hand! once more
I recognise it.
Nathan
They know naught of this:
It rests with you to tell them all the truth.
Saladin (Turning Over the Leaves of the Breviary)
They are my brother’s children. Shall I not
Acknowledge them and claim them? Or shall I
Abandon them to you? (Speaking aloud.) Sittah, they are The children of my brother and of yours. (Rushes to embrace them.)
Sittah (Following His Example)
What do I hear? Could it be otherwise?
Saladin (to the Templar)
Proud youth! from this time forward you are bound
To love me. (To Recha.) And henceforth, without your leave
Or with it, I am what I vowed to be.
Sittah
And so am I.
Saladin (to the Templar)
My son! my Assad’s son!
Templar
I of your blood! Then those were more than dreams
With which they used to lull my infancy—
(Falls at Sultan’s feet.)
Saladin (Raising Him)
There, mark the rascal! though he knew something
Of what has chanced, he was content that I
Should have become his murderer! Beware.
(The curtain falls whilst they repeatedly embrace each other in silence.)
London: Printed by William Clowes and Sons, Stamford Street and Charing Cross
York Street, Covent Garden,
November, 1877.