Scene II.
The Templar, Daja, Recha.
(A servant ushers in the Templar.)
This way, Sir Knight!--
(Recha starts, composes herself, and is about to fall at his feet.)
'Tis he! my rescuer. Ah!
TEMPLAR.
'Twas only to avoid this scene that I
So long postponed my visit.
RECHA.
At the feet
Of this proud man, I will thank God alone,
And not the man. He does not want my thanks--
As little as the bucket does which proved
Itself so useful at the fire, and let
Itself be filled and emptied; so this man,
He too was thrust by chance amid the flames;
I dropped by chance into his open arms,
By chance remained there, like a fluttering spark
Upon his mantle--till--I know not what
Expelled us from the flames. What room is here
For thanks?--In Europe wine excites the men
To greater deeds--The Templar knows his duty,
Performs his task, as well-trained spaniels do,
Who fetch alike from water and from flames.
TEMPLAR (who has been surveying her with surprise and uneasiness).
O Daja, Daja! if in hasty hours
Of care and grief, this unchecked tongue of mine
Betrayed me into rudeness, why convey
To her each idle word that leaves my lips?
This is indeed too galling a revenge!
Yet, if henceforth, you will interpret better----
DAJA.
I question if these little stings, Sir Knight,
Were so shot forth as to have done you wrong.
RECHA.
How! you had cares, and were more covetous
Of them than of your life.
TEMPLAR.
Thou best of beings,
How is my soul with eye and ear at strife?
No, 'twas not she I rescued from the fire,
For who could know her and forbear the deed?
In truth, disguised by terror----
(He gazes on her as if entranced.)
RECHA.
But to me
You still appear the same as then you seemed.
(A pause, till she resumes in order to interrupt his reverie.)
Tell me, Sir Knight, where have you been so long?
And--I might almost ask--where are you now?
TEMPLAR.
I am where I, perhaps, ought not to be.
RECHA.
And been, perhaps, where you should not have been.
That is not well.
TEMPLAR.
I have been up the mountain--
What is the name?--ay! Sinai!
RECHA.
I am glad;
For, doubtless, you can tell me if 'tis true----
TEMPLAR.
If what is true? If holy people show
The spot where Moses stood before his God?
RECHA.
Oh no; not that. Wherever Moses stood
It was before his God. I know enough
About such things already. Is it true--
I wish to learn from you who have been there--
If it is not by far less difficult
To climb than to descend the holy mount?
For with all other mountains that I know,
'Tis quite the contrary. You turn away!
Why do you turn, Sir Knight? Nay, look at me.
TEMPLAR.
I wish to hear you rather.
RECHA.
I perceive,
Because you do not wish that I should see
You smile at my simplicity. You smile
That I have not some more important thing
To ask about the holy hill of hills.
Is it so?
TEMPLAR.
Must I meet those eyes again?
And now you cast them down, and check your smile.
How can I in those changeful features read
What I so plainly hear--the truth your words
So audibly declare, and yet would hide?
How truly did your father say to me,
"If you but knew her!"
RECHA.
Who said that to you?
TEMPLAR.
Your father, and of you he spoke the words.
DAJA.
Have I not said it to you many times?
TEMPLAR.
Where is your father now? with Saladin?
RECHA.
Doubtless he is.
TEMPLAR.
Still there! Oh, I forget.
He cannot still be there. He waits for me,
As he appointed, near the cloister gate.
Forgive me, I must go in quest of him.
DAJA.
I will do that. Wait here, I'll bring him straight.
TEMPLAR.
O no, O no! He is expecting me.
Besides, you cannot tell what may have chanced.
'Tis not unlikely he may be engaged
With Saladin--you do not know the Sultan--
In some unpleasant----Danger may ensue
If I delay.
RECHA.
Danger! for whom? for what?
TEMPLAR.
Danger for me--for you--for him! unless
I go at once (Exit.)