ACT II.
Scene I.--The Sultan's Palace.
Saladin and Sittah (playing at chess).
SITTAH.
Where are your thoughts? How ill you play, dear brother!
SALADIN.
Not well in truth--and yet I thought----
SITTAH.
Oh, yes!
You're playing well for me; take back that move.
SALADIN.
Why?
SITTAH.
Don't you see you leave your knight exposed?
SALADIN.
Ay, true!--then so.
SITTAH.
And now I take your pawn.
SALADIN.
That's true again, dear Sittah! Well, then, check!
SITTAH.
That will not help you--I protect my king,
And all is safe again.
SALADIN.
Well, out of this
Dilemma 'tis not easy to escape.
I cannot save the knight.
SITTAH.
I pass him by;
I will not take him.
SALADIN.
Well, I owe you nothing;
The place you gain is better than the piece.
SITTAH.
Perhaps.
SALADIN.
But reckon not without your host;
You did not see that move.
SITTAH.
Not I, indeed;
I did not think you weary of your queen.
SALADIN.
My queen!
SITTAH.
Well, well! I see that I to-day
Shall win my thousand dinars and no more.
SALADIN.
Why so?
SITTAH.
Why so? Because designedly
You lose the game! You vex me, Saladin!
I find no pleasure in a game like this.
And even when I lose, I come off well;
For, to console me for the games you win,
You force me to accept a double stake.
SALADIN.
In that case, then, it may be by design
That you have sometimes lost. Is that the truth?
SITTAH.
At least your generosity's to blame
That I improve so little in my play.
SALADIN.
But we forget the game; come, finish it.
SITTAH.
Well, 'tis my move; now, check to king and queen!
SALADIN.
Indeed! I did not see the double check.
I lose my queen.
SITTAH.
Let's see! Can it be helped?
SALADIN.
No, take the queen--I have no luck with her.
SITTAH.
Only with her?
SALADIN.
Remove her from the board,
I shall not miss her. Now I am right again.
SITTAH.
I know from lessons which yourself have taught
How courteously we should behave to queens.
(Offering to restore the piece.)
SALADIN.
Take her or not, I shall not move her more.
SITTAH.
Why need I take her? Check, and check!
SALADIN.
Go on.
SITTAH.
Check, check, and check again!
SALADIN.
'Tis checkmate now.
SITTAH.
Hold!--no, not yet. You may advance the knight,
And ward the danger. But 'twill be the same.
SALADIN.
You are the winner, and Al-Hafi pays.
Let him be called, Sittah! You were not wrong.
My thoughts were wandering--were not in the game,
But who gives us so oft these shapeless bits
Of wood? which speak of naught--suggest no thought.
Was it with Iman that I've played--Well, well,
Ill-luck is ever wont to seek excuse.
Not the unmeaning squares or shapeless men
Have made me heedless; your dexterity,
Your calm, sharp eye, dear Sittah!
SITTAH.
What of that?
Is that to blunt the sting of your defeat?
Enough--your thoughts were wandering more than mine.
SALADIN.
Than yours? What subject could engage your thoughts?
SITTAH.
Far different cares than those which trouble you.
But, Saladin, say, when shall we again
Resume this pleasant pastime?
SALADIN.
Dearest Sittah,
This interruption will but whet our zeal.
Your thoughts are on the war: well, let it come--
'Twas not my arm that first unsheathed the sword;
I would have willingly prolonged the truce,
And willingly have knit a tender bond,
For Sittah's sake, with Richard's noble brother.
SITTAH.
How pleased you are, can you but praise your Richard.
SALADIN.
If Richard's sister had but been bestowed
Upon our brother Melek, what a house
Had then been ours! the best, the happiest
The earth could boast. You know I am not slow
To praise myself: I'm worthy of my friends.
What men these unions would have given us!
SITTAH.
Did I not smile at once at your fine dreams?
You do not, will not, know the Christian race.
It is their pride not to be men, but Christians.
The virtue which their founder felt and taught,
The charity He mingled with their creed,
Is valued, not because it is humane,
And good, and lovely, but for this alone,
That it was Christ who taught it, Christ who did it.
'Tis well for them He was so good a man,
Well that they take His goodness all on trust,
And in His virtues put their faith. His virtues!
'Tis not His virtues, but His name alone
They wish to thrust upon us--His mere name,
Which they desire should overspread the world,
Should swallow up the name of all good men,
And put the rest to shame. 'Tis for His name
Alone they care.
SALADIN.
Else, Sittah, as you say,
They would not have required that you and Melek
Should be called Christians, ere they suffered you
To feel for Christians the pure flame of love.
SITTAH.
As if from Christians, and from them alone,
That love can be expected, which the hand
Of our Creator gives to man and wife.
SALADIN.
Christians believe such vain absurdities,
That this may be among them. And yet, Sittah,
The Templars, not the Christians, are in this
To blame. 'Tis they alone who thwart my plans;
'Tis they who still hold Acca, pledged to us
By treaty as the dower of Richard's sister.
And, to maintain their order's interests,
They use this cant--the nonsense of the monk.
Scarce would they wait until the truce expired
To fall upon us. But, go on, good sirs!
Would that all else may thrive as well as this!
SITTAH.
Why, what else troubles you? What other care
Have you to struggle with?
SALADIN.
That constant grief--
I've been to Lebanon, and seen our father.
He's full of care.
SITTAH.
Alas!
SALADIN.
He must give way.
Straitened on every side, no aid, no help,
Nothing comes in.
SITTAH.
What ails him, Saladin?
SALADIN.
The only thing that I am loth to name,
Which, when I have it, so superfluous seems,
And, when I have it not, so necessary.
Where is Al-Hafi? Have they gone for him?
Will no one go? Oh, fatal, cursed money!
Welcome, Al-Hafi! You are come at last.