Dead surely not—for God rewards the good Done here below, here too. Go; but remember How easier far devout enthusiasm is Than a good action; and how willingly Our indolence takes up with pious rapture, Tho’ at the time unconscious of its end, Only to save the toil of useful deeds. RECHA. Oh never leave again thy child alone!— But can he not be only gone a journey? NATHAN. Yes, very likely. There’s a Mussulman Numbering with curious eye my laden camels, Do you know who he is? DAYA. Oh, your old dervis. NATHAN. Who—who? DAYA. Your chess companion. NATHAN. That, Al-Hafi? DAYA. And now the treasurer of Saladin. NATHAN. Al-Hafi? Are you dreaming? How was this? In fact it is so. He seems coming hither. In with you quick.—What now am I to hear? NATHAN _and_ HAFI. HAFI. Aye, lift thine eyes in wonder. NATHAN. Is it you? A dervis so magnificent!— HAFI. Why not? Can nothing then be made out of a dervis? NATHAN. Yes, surely; but I have been wont to think A dervis, that’s to say a thorough dervis, Will allow nothing to be made of him. HAFI. May-be ’tis true that I’m no thorough dervis; But by the prophet, when we must— NATHAN. Must, Hafi? Needs must—belongs to no man: and a dervis— HAFI. When he is much besought, and thinks it right, A dervis must. NATHAN. Well spoken, by our God! Embrace me, man, you’re still, I trust, my friend. HAFI. Why not ask first what has been made of me? NATHAN. Ask climbers to look back! HAFI. And may I not Have grown to such a creature in the state That my old friendship is no longer welcome? NATHAN. If you still bear your dervis-heart about you I’ll run the risk of that. Th’ official robe Is but your cloak. HAFI. A cloak, that claims some honour. What think’st thou? At a court of thine how great Had been Al-Hafi? NATHAN. Nothing but a dervis. If more, perhaps—what shall I say—my cook. HAFI.