Patience—nor hasten quite so proudly by
A man, who has not merited contempt,
And whom, for evermore, you’ve made your debtor.
TEMPLAR.
How so? Perhaps I guess—No—Are you then—
NATHAN.
My name is Nathan, father to the maid
Your generous courage snatched from circling flames,
And hasten—
TEMPLAR.
If with thanks, keep, keep them all.
Those little things I’ve had to suffer much from:
Too much already, far. And, after all,
You owe me nothing. Was I ever told
She was your daughter? ’Tis a templar’s duty
To rush to the assistance of the first
Poor wight that needs him; and my life just then
Was quite a burden. I was mighty glad
To risk it for another; tho’ it were
That of a Jewess.
NATHAN.
Noble, and yet shocking!
The turn might be expected. Modest greatness
Wears willingly the mask of what is shocking
To scare off admiration: but, altho’
She may disdain the tribute, admiration,
Is there no other tribute she can bear with?
Knight, were you here not foreign, not a captive
I would not ask so freely. Speak, command,
In what can I be useful?
TEMPLAR.