RECHA.
No, no, not that.
Where’er he stood, ’twas before God. Of this
I know enough already. Is it true,
I wish to learn from you that—that it is not
By far so troublesome to climb this mountain
As to get down—for on all mountains else,
That I have seen, quite the reverse obtains.
Well, knight, why will you turn away from me?
Not look at me?
TEMPLAR.
Because I wish to hear you.
RECHA.
Because you do not wish me to perceive
You smile at my simplicity—You smile
That I can think of nothing more important
To ask about the holy hill of hills:
Do you not?
TEMPLAR.
Must I meet those eyes again?
And now you cast them down, and damp the smile—
Am I in doubtful motions of the features
To read what I so plainly hear—what you
So audibly declare; yet will conceal?—
How truly said thy father “Do but know her!”
RECHA.
Who has—of whom—said so to thee?