Nathan the Wise | Page 6

exercised with such a view, Deserves the name. -
NATHAN.
With such a view? With what?
DAYA.
My conscience -
NATHAN.
Daya, let me tell you first -
DAYA.
I say, my conscience -
NATHAN.
What a charming silk I bought for you in Babylon! 'Tis rich, Yet elegantly rich. I almost doubt If I have brought a prettier for Recha.
DAYA.
And what of that--I tell you that my conscience Will no be longer hushed.
NATHAN.
And I have bracelets, And earrings, and a necklace, which will charm you. I chose them at Damascus.
DAYA.
That's your way:- If you can but make presents--but make presents. -
NATHAN.
Take you as freely as I give--and cease.
DAYA.
And cease?--Who questions, Nathan, but that you are Honour and generosity in person; - Yet -
NATHAN.
Yet I'm but a Jew.--That was your meaning.
DAYA.
You better know what was my meaning, Nathan.
NATHAN.
Well, well, no more of this,
DAYA.
I shall be silent; But what of sinful in the eye of heaven Springs out of it--not I, not I could help; It falls upon thy head.
NATHAN.
So let it, Daya. Where is she then? What stays her? Surely, surely, You're not amusing me--And does she know That I'm arrived?
DAYA.
That you yourself must speak to, Terror still vibrates in her every nerve. Her fancy mingles fire with all she thinks of. Asleep, her soul seems busy; but awake, Absent: now less than brute, now more than angel.
NATHAN.
Poor thing! What are we mortals -
DAYA.
As she lay This morning sleeping, all at once she started And cried: "list, list! there come my father's camels!" And then she drooped again upon her pillow And I withdrew--when, lo! you really came. Her thoughts have only been with you--and him.
NATHAN.
And HIM? What him?
DAYA.
With him, who from the fire Preserved her life,
NATHAN.
Who was it? Where is he, That saved my Recha for me?
DAYA.
A young templar, Brought hither captive a few days ago, And pardoned by the Sultan.
NATHAN.
How, a TEMPLAR Dismissed with life by Saladin. In truth, Not a less miracle was to preserve her, God!--God! -
DAYA.
Without this man, who risked afresh The Sultan's unexpected boon, we'd lost her.
NATHAN.
Where is he, Daya, where's this noble youth? Do, lead me to his feet. Sure, sure you gave him What treasures I had left you--gave him all, Promised him more--much more?
DAYA.
How could we?
NATHAN.
Not?
DAYA.
He came, he went, we know not whence, or whither. Quite unacquainted with the house, unguided But by his ear, he prest through smoke and flame, His mantle spread before him, to the room Whence pierced the shrieks for help; and we began To think him lost--and her; when, all at once, Bursting from flame and smoke, he stood before us, She in his arm upheld. Cold and unmoved By our loud warmth of thanks, he left his booty, Struggled into the crowd, and disappeared.
NATHAN.
But not for ever, Daya, I would hope.
DAYA.
For some days after, underneath you palms, That shade his grave who rose again from death, We saw him wandering up and down. I went, With transport went to thank him. I conjured, Intreated him to visit once again The dear sweet girl he saved, who longed to shed At her preserver's feet the grateful tear -
NATHAN.
Well?
DAYA.
But in vain. Deaf to our warmest prayers, On me he flung such bitter mockery -
NATHAN.
That hence rebuffed -
DAYA.
Oh, no, oh, no, indeed not, Daily I forced myself upon him, daily Afresh encountered his dry taunting speeches. Much I have borne, and would have borne much more: But he of late forbears his lonely walk Under the scattered palms, which stand about Our holy sepulchre: nor have I learnt Where he now is. You seem astonished--thoughtful -
NATHAN.
I was imagining what strange impressions This conduct makes on such a mind as Recha's. Disdained by one whom she must feel compelled To venerate and to esteem so highly. At once attracted and repelled--the combat Between her head and heart must yet endure, Regret, Resentment, in unusual struggle. Neither, perhaps, obtains the upper hand, And busy fancy, meddling in the fray, Weaves wild enthusiasms to her dazzled spirit, Now clothing Passion in the garb of Reason, And Reason now in Passion's--do I err? This last is Recha's fate--Romantic notions -
DAYA.
Aye; but such pious, lovely, sweet, illusions.
NATHAN.
Illusions though.
DAYA.
Yes: and the one, her bosom Clings to most fondly, is, that the brave templar Was but a transient inmate of the earth, A guardian angel, such as from her childhood She loved to fancy kindly hovering round her, Who from his veiling cloud amid the fire Stepped forth in her preserver's form. You smile - Who knows? At least beware of banishing So pleasing an illusion--if deceitful Christian, Jew, Mussulman, agree to own it, And 'tis--at least to her--a dear illusion.
NATHAN.
Also to me. Go, my good Daya, go, See what she's after. Can't I speak with her? Then I'll find out our untamed guardian angel, Bring him to sojourn here awhile among us - We'll