Scene III.
Recha, Daja.
RECHA.
What is the matter, Daja?
So quick! what ails him--makes him fly from hence?
DAJA.
Let him alone. I think it no bad sign.
RECHA.
Sign! and of what?
DAJA.
That something vexes him.
It boils, but it must not boil over. Go,
'Tis your turn now.
RECHA.
My turn. You have become
Incomprehensible to me--like him.
DAJA.
Now you may pay him back with interest
All the unrest he once occasioned you.
But be not too vindictive--too severe.
RECHA.
Well, Daja, you must know your meaning best.
DAJA.
And are you then already calm once more?
RECHA.
In truth I am.
DAJA.
Confess at least, dear Recha,
That all this restlessness has brought you pleasure,
And that you have to thank his want of ease
For all the ease that you yourself enjoy.
RECHA.
I know not that, but I must still confess
That to myself it seems a mystery
How in this bosom, such a pleasing calm
Can suddenly succeed so rude a storm.
His countenance, his speech, his manner have----
DAJA.
By this time satisfied you.
RECHA.
No, not that.
DAJA.
Well, satisfied your more impatient want.
RECHA.
Well, well, if you must have it so.
DAJA.
Not I!
RECHA.
To me he must be ever dear. To me
He must remain more dear than life, although
My pulse no longer flutters at his name,
My heart no longer, when I think of him,
Beats with a fuller throb. What have I said?
Come, Daja, to the window once again
Which overlooks the palms.
DAJA.
I see 'tis not
Yet satisfied, that more impatient want.
RECHA.
Now, I shall see the palm--trees once again;
Not him alone amidst them.
DAJA.
Such a fit
Of coldness speaks of fevers yet to come.
RECHA.
Nay, I'm not cold, in truth I do not see
Less gladly that which I do calmly see.
Scene IV.
(The Hall of Audience in Saladin's Palace.)
Saladin, Sittah.
SALADIN (giving directions).
Bring the Jew here, as soon as he arrives.
He seems in no great haste.
SITTAH.
Nay, Saladin,
Perhaps he was not found at home.
SALADIN.
Ah, sister!
SITTAH.
You look as if some contest were at hand.
SALADIN.
Ay! and with weapons I'm not used to wield.
Must I then play the hypocrite--and frame
Precautions--lay a snare? Where learnt I that?
And for what end? To seek for money--money!
For money from a Jew? And to such arts
Must Saladin descend, that he may win
The most contemptible of paltry things?
SITTAH.
But paltry things, despised too much, are sure
To find some method of revenge.
SALADIN.
'Tis true!
What, if this Jew should prove an upright man,
Such as the Dervise painted him?
SITTAH.
Why, then,
Your difficulty ceases; for a snare
Implies an avaricious, cheating Jew,
And not an upright man. Then he is ours
Without a snare. 'Twill give us joy to hear
How such a man will speak--with what stern strength
He'll tear the net, or with what cunning skill
Untangle all its meshes, one by one.
SALADIN.
True, Sittah! 'twill afford me rare delight.
SITTAH.
What, then, need trouble you? For if he be,
Like all his nation, a mere cozening Jew,
You need not blush, if you appear to him
No better than he deems all other men.
But if to him you wear a different look,
You'll be a fool--his dupe!
SALADIN.
So I must, then,
Do ill, lest bad men should think ill of me.
SITTAH.
Yes, brother, if you call it doing ill
To put a thing to its intended use.
SALADIN.
Well, there is nothing woman's wit invents
It cannot palliate----
SITTAH.
How, palliate?
SALADIN.
Sittah, I fear such fine-wrought filagree
Will break in my rude hand. It is for those
Who frame such plots to bring them into play.
The execution needs the inventor's skill.
But let it pass.--I'll dance as best I can--
Yet sooner would I do it ill than well.
SITTAH.
Oh, brother, have more courage in yourself!
Have but the will, I'll answer for the rest.
How strange that men like you are ever prone
To think it is their swords alone that raise them.
When with the fox the noble lion hunts,
'Tis of the fellowship he feels ashamed,
But of the cunning, never.
SALADIN.
Well, 'tis strange
That women so delight to bring mankind
Down to their level. But, dear Sittah, go;
I think I know my lesson.
SITTAH.
Must I go?
SALADIN.
You did not mean to stay?
SITTAH.
No, not with you,
But in this neighb'ring chamber.
SALADIN.
What! to listen?
Not so, my sister, if I shall succeed.
Away! the curtain rustles--he is come.
Beware of lingering! I'll be on the watch.
(While Sittah retires through, one door, Nathan enters at another, and Saladin seats himself.)