SALADIN.
How! how! thou wentest
Still earlier to the patriarch than to me?
TEMPLAR.
Yes, in the storm of passion, in the eddy
Of indecision—pardon—oh! thou wilt
No longer care, I fear, to find in me
One feature of thy Assad.
SALADIN.
Yes, that fear.
Methinks I know by this time from what failings
Our virtue springs—this do thou cultivate,
Those shall but little harm thee in my sight.
But go, seek Nathan, as he sought for thee,
And bring him hither: I must reconcile you.
If thou art serious about the maid—
Be calm, she shall be thine—Nathan shall feel
That without swine’s flesh one may educate
A Christian child, Go.
[Templar withdraws.
SITTAH (rising from the sofa).
Very strange indeed!
SALADIN.