FRIAR.
I am clear it was.
But stay, I recollect I’ve yet a book,
’Twas my dead lord’s—I drew it from his bosom,
While we were burying him at Askalon.
NATHAN.
Well!
FRIAR.
There are prayers in’t, ’tis what we call
A breviary. This, thought I, may yet serve
Some Christian man—not me indeed, for I
Can’t read.
NATHAN.
No matter, to the thing.
FRIAR.
This book is written at both ends quite full,
And, as I’m told, contains, in his hand-writing
About both him and her what’s most material.