Scene III.
Saladin's Palace.
(Slaves are employed in bringing bags of gold, and piling them on the floor.)
Saladin, Sittah.
SALADIN.
In truth, this weary business ne'er will end;
Say, is it nearly done?
A SLAVE.
One half is done.
SALADIN.
Then take the rest to Sittah? Where's Al-Hafi?
He must take charge of what is here. But, hold,
Were it not best to send it to my father?
Here 'twill be quickly spent. I feel, in truth,
That I am growing miserly. At last
He must be skilful who gets much from me,
And till from Egypt further treasure comes,
Our poverty must be content to struggle.
Yet, at the Holy Sepulchre, the cost
Of all the Christian pilgrims must be paid;
They must, at least, not go with empty hands.
SITTAH.
Why, what is this? wherefore this gold to me?
SALADIN.
Recoup yourself with it, if aught is left,
Keep it in store.
SITTAH.
Are Nathan and the Knight
Not yet arrived?
SALADIN.
The former everywhere
Is seeking him.
SITTAH.
Behold what I have found
In turning o'er my ornaments and jewels (showing a small portrait).
SALADIN.
Ha! what is here! a portrait! yes, my brother!
'Tis he--'tis he! Was he--was he, alas!
Oh dear, brave youth! so early lost to me!
With thee at hand what had I not achieved!
Give me the portrait, Sittah. I recall
This picture well. He gave it to his Lilla--
Your elder sister--when one summer morn
He tore himself away reluctantly.
She would not yield, but clasped him in her arms.
'Twas the last morning that he e'er rode forth,
And I, alas! I let him ride alone.
Poor Lilla died of grief, and ne'er forgave
My error that I let him ride alone.
He ne'er returned.
SITTAH.
Poor brother!
SALADIN.
Say no more.
A few short years, and we shall ne'er return.
And then who knows? But 'tis not death alone
That blights the hopes and promises of youth,
They have far other foes, and oftentimes
The strongest, like the weakest, is o'ercome.
But be that as it may, I must compare
This portrait with the Templar, that I may
Observe how much my fancy cheated me.
SITTAH.
'Twas for that purpose that I brought it here.
But give it, and I'll tell thee if 'tis like:
We women are best judges of such things.
SALADIN (to the doorkeeper who enters).
Who's there? the Templar? Bid him come at once.
SITTAH.
Not to disturb you, or perplex him with
My curious questions, I'll retire awhile. (Throws herself upon the sofa, and lets her veil fall.)
SALADIN.
That's well. (And now his voice--will that be like?
For Assad's voice still slumbers in my soul!)
Scene IV.
The Templar and Saladin.
TEMPLAR.
I am your prisoner, Sultan.
SALADIN.
You my prisoner!
Shall I refuse him liberty, whose life
I freely spared?
TEMPLAR.
It is my duty, Sire,
To hear, and not anticipate, your will.
Yet it but ill becomes my character
And station, Sultan, to be thus profuse
Of gratitude because you've spared my life--
A life which henceforth is at your command.
SALADIN.
Only forbear to use it to my hurt.
Not that I grudge my mortal enemy
Another pair of hands; but such a heart
As yours I do not yield him willingly.
You valiant youth! I have not gauged you ill:
In soul and body, you are truly Assad.
I fain would learn where you have been so long
Concealed. In what dim cavern you have slept?
What spirit, in some region of the blest,
Has kept this beauteous flower so fresh in bloom?
Methinks I could remind you of our sports
In days gone by; and I could chide you, too,
For having kept one secret from my ear,
For having dared one gallant deed alone.
I'm happy that so much of this deceit
At least is true, that in my sear of life
An Assad blooms for me once more. And you,
You too are happy, Knight!
TEMPLAR.
Whate'er you will--
Whatever be your thought--lies as a wish
Within mine inmost soul.
SALADIN.
We'll prove you, then.
Will you abide with me?--cling to my side,
Whether as Christian or as Mussulman,
In turban or white mantle? Choose your garb--
Choose for yourself. I never have desired
That the same bark should grow on every tree.
TEMPLAR.
Else, Saladin, you never had become
The hero that you are--who'd rather be
The gardener of the Lord.
SALADIN.
If thus you think
Of Saladin, we're half agreed, already----
TEMPLAR.
Nay, quite!
SALADIN (offering his hand).
One word!
TEMPLAR (taking it).
One man! and with this hand
Take more than you can e'er take back again.
Henceforth I'm wholly yours.
SALADIN.
This is too much--
For one day 'tis too much! Came he not with you?
TEMPLAR.
Who?
SALADIN.
Who? Nathan.
TEMPLAR.
No; I came alone.
SALADIN.
Oh, what a deed was thine! what happiness
That such a deed should serve so good a man!
TEMPLAR.
'Twas nothing.
SALADIN.
Why so cold, O valiant youth!
When God makes man His minister of good,
He need not be so cold, nor modestly
Wish to appear so cold.
TEMPLAR.
But in the world
All things have many sides, and who is he
Can comprehend how they may fit each other?
SALADIN.
Cling ever to what's noble, and praise God!
He knows how all things fit. But if you are
So scrupulous, young man, I must beware.
I too have many sides, and some of them
May seem to you not always made to fit.
TEMPLAR.
That grieves me; for suspicion, at the least,
Is not a sin of mine.
SALADIN.
Then, tell me, whom
Do you suspect? Not Nathan, surely? What!
Nathan suspected, and by you? Explain--
Afford me this first proof of confidence.
TEMPLAR.
I've nothing against Nathan. I am vexed,
But with myself alone.
SALADIN.
Why so?
TEMPLAR.
For dreaming
That any Jew can think himself no Jew.
I dreamt this waking.
SALADIN.
Tell me all your dream.
TEMPLAR.
You know that Nathan has a daughter, Sultan!
And what I did for her, I did--because
I did it. Far too proud to reap the thanks
I had not sown, from day to day I shunned
The maiden's sight. Her father was afar.
He comes, he hears, he seeks me, give me thanks;
Wishes that she might please me, and he talks
Of dawning prospects. Well, I hear it all,
I listen to him, go and see the maid--
O! such a maiden, Sultan. But, I blush.
SALADIN.
Why blush? Blush that a Jewish maid should win
Your admiration? 'Tis a venial fault.
TEMPLAR.
But oh! that, through her father's sweet discourse,
To this impression my o'er-hasty heart
Such weak resistance offered! Fool. I leaped
A second time into the flame, and then
I wooed, and was denied.
SALADIN.
Denied?--denied?
TEMPLAR.
The prudent father does not plainly say
No, to my suit--but he must first inquire--
He must reflect. Well, be it so. Had I
Not done the same? I looked about, inquired--
Reflected--ere I plunged into the flames
Where she was shrieking. Oh, by Heaven! it is
A splendid thing to be so circumspect!
SALADIN.
Nay, but you must concede somewhat to age.
His doubts will pass away, nor will he wish
You to become a Jew.
TEMPLAR.
Who knows?
SALADIN.
Who knows!
One who knows Nathan better than yourself.
TEMPLAR.
And yet the superstitions we have learned
From education, do not lose their power
When we have found them out; nor are all free
Whose judgment mocks the galling chains they wear.
SALADIN.
'Tis wisely said; but Nathan, surely Nathan----
TEMPLAR.
That superstition is the worst of all
Which thinks itself the easiest to be borne----
SALADIN.
'Tis possible. But Nathan----
TEMPLAR.
And to trust
To it alone a blind humanity
Till it is used to truth's more brilliant light.
To it alone----
SALADIN.
Well, well! But Nathan's fate
Is not to be so weak----
TEMPLAR.
I thought so once,
But what if this bright pattern to mankind
Were such a thorough Jew that he seeks out
For Christian children to bring up as Jews?
How then?
SALADIN.
Who speaks so of him?
TEMPLAR.
E'en the maid
For whom I'm so distressed, with hopes of whom
He seemed so glad to recompense the deed
He would not suffer me to do for naught.
This maid is not his daughter; no, she is
A kidnapped Christian child.
SALADIN.
Whom Nathan now
Refuses you!
TEMPLAR (earnestly).
Refuse or not refuse,
He is found out--the prating hypocrite
Is now found out; but on this Jewish wolf,
For all his philosophical sheep's garb,
Dogs I can loosen who will tear his hide.
SALADIN (earnestly).
Peace, Christian!
TEMPLAR.
What! peace, Christian? Wherefore so?
Shall Jew and Mussulman be free to boast
Their creeds, and shall the Christian be ashamed
To own his faith?
SALADIN (more earnestly).
Peace, Christian!
TEMPLAR (calmly).
Yes, I feel
What weight of blame lies in your calm reproof--
In that one word pronounced by Saladin.
Oh! that I knew what Assad would have done
Had he but fill'd my place!
SALADIN.
He had not done
Much better; nay, perhaps, had been more warm.
Where did you learn to bribe me with a word?
And yet, in truth, if all has happened so
As you narrate, it is not much like Nathan.
But Nathan is my friend, and of my friends
One must not quarrel with the other. So
Take counsel, act with prudence. Do not loose
On him the fanatics among your race.
Keep silence. All the clergy of your sect
Would call to me for vengeance upon him
With far more show of right than I could wish.
Let not revenge impel you to become
A Christian to the Jew or Mussulman.
TEMPLAR.
Thanks to the Patriarch's bloodthirsty rage,
Your counsel almost comes too late; and I
Had nearly proved his cruel instrument.
SALADIN.
How so? and did you see the Patriarch
Before you came to me?
TEMPLAR.
Yes, in the storm
Of passion--in the whirl of doubt----Forgive me.
I fear you will no longer find in me
One feature of your Assad.
SALADIN.
Yes, that fear
Is like him. But, methinks, I know full well
The weaknesses from which our virtues spring:
Attend to these--the former cannot hurt.
But go, seek Nathan, as he sought for you,
And bring him hither. Be but reconciled.
Are you in earnest, Knight, about this maid?
Be calm--she shall be yours. Nathan shall feel
That without swines-flesh he has dared to rear
A Christian child. Now, Templar, leave me. Go!
(Exit the Templar. Sittah leaves the sofa.)