Dost thou ask of me, So tremblingly of me, what passes in thee? Whatever ’tis, ’tis innocence and nature. Be not alarmed, it gives me no alarm; But promise me that, when thy heart shall speak A plainer language, thou wilt not conceal A single of thy wishes from my fondness. RECHA. Oh the mere possibility of wishing Rather to veil and hide them makes me shudder. NATHAN. Let this be spoken once for all. Well, Daya— NATHAN, RECHA, _and_ DAYA. DAYA. He still is here beneath the palms, and soon Will reach yon wall. See, there he comes. RECHA. And seems Irresolute where next; if left or right. DAYA. I know he mostly passes to the convent, And therefore comes this path. What will you lay me? RECHA. Oh yes he does. And did you speak to him? How did he seem to-day? DAYA. As heretofore. NATHAN. Don’t let him see you with me: further back; Or rather to the house. RECHA. Just one peep more. Now the hedge steals him from me. DAYA. Come away. Your father’s in the right—should he perceive us, ’Tis very probable he’ll tack about. RECHA. But for the hedge— NATHAN. Now he emerges from it. He can’t but see you: hence—I ask it of you. DAYA. I know a window whence we yet may— RECHA. Ay. [_Goes in with Daya_. NATHAN. I’m almost shy of this strange fellow, almost Shrink back from his rough virtue. That one man Should ever make another man feel awkward! And yet—He’s coming—ha!—by God, the youth Looks like a man. I love his daring eye, His open gait. May be the shell is bitter; But not the kernel surely. I have seen Some such, methinks. Forgive me, noble Frank. NATHAN _and_ TEMPLAR. TEMPLAR. What? NATHAN. Give me leave. TEMPLAR. Well, Jew, what wouldst thou have? NATHAN. The liberty of speaking to you! TEMPLAR. So— Can I prevent it? Quick then, what’s your business? NATHAN. Patience—nor hasten quite so proudly by A man, who has not merited contempt, And whom, for evermore, you’ve made your debtor. TEMPLAR.