SALADIN.
Richard’s sister
Might then have been allotted to our Melek.
O what a house that would have formed—the first—
The best—and what is more—of earth the happiest!
You know I am not loth to praise myself;
Why should I?—Of my friends am I not worthy?
O we had then led lives!
SITTAH.
A pretty dream.
It makes me smile. You do not know the Christians.
You will not know them. ’Tis this people’s pride
Not to be men, but to be Christians. Even
What of humane their Founder felt, and taught,
And left to savour their found superstition,
They value not because it is humane,
Lovely, and good for man; they only prize it
Because ’twas Christ who taught it, Christ who did it.
’Tis well for them He was so good a man:
Well that they take His goodness all for granted,
And in His virtues put their trust. His virtues—
’Tis not His virtues, but His name alone
They wish to thrust upon us—’Tis His name
Which they desire should overspread the world,
Should swallow up the name of all good men,
And put the best to shame. ’Tis His mere name
They care for—
SALADIN.
Else, my Sittah, as thou sayst,
They would not have required that thou, and Melek,
Should be called Christians, ere you might be suffered
To feel for Christians conjugal affection.
SITTAH.
As if from Christians only, and as Christians,
That love could be expected which our Maker
In man and woman for each other planted.
SALADIN.
The Christians do believe such idle notions,
They well might fancy this: and yet thou errest.
The templars, not the Christians, are in fault.
’Tis not as Christians, but as templars, that
They thwart my purpose. They alone prevent it.
They will on no account evacuate Acca,
Which was to be the dower of Richard’s sister,
And, lest their order suffer, use this cant—
Bring into play the nonsense of the monk—
And scarcely would await the truce’s end
To fall upon us. Go on so—go on,
To me you’re welcome, sirs. Would all things else
Went but as right!