Here let the weary victim pant awhile.— Yet would I not have time to ascertain What passes in me; would not snuff beforehand The coming storm. ’Tis sure I fled in vain; But more than fly I could not do, whatever Comes of it. Ah! to ward it off—the blow Was given so suddenly. Long, much, I strove To keep aloof; but vainly. Once to see her— Her, whom I surely did not court the sight of, To see her, and to form the resolution, Never to lose sight of her here again, Was one—The resolution?—Not ’tis will, Fixt purpose, made (for I was passive in it) Sealed, doomed. To see her, and to feel myself Bound to her, wove into her very being, Was one—remains one. Separate from her To live is quite unthinkable—is death. And wheresoever after death we be, There too the thought were death. And is this love? Yet so in troth the templar loves—so—so— The Christian loves the Jewess. What of that? Here in this holy land, and therefore holy And dear to me, I have already doffed Some prejudices.—Well—what says my vow? As templar I am dead, was dead to that From the same hour which made me prisoner To Saladin. But is the head he gave me My old one? No. It knows no word of what Was prated into yon, of what had bound it. It is a better; for its patrial sky Fitter than yon. I feel—I’m conscious of it, With this I now begin to think, as here My father must have thought; if tales of him Have not been told untruly. Tales—why tales? They’re credible—more credible than ever— Now that I’m on the brink of stumbling, where He fell. He fell? I’d rather fall with men, Than stand with children. His example pledges His approbation, and whose approbation Have I else need of? Nathan’s? Surely of his Encouragement, applause, I’ve little need To doubt—O what a Jew is he! yet easy To pass for the mere Jew. He’s coming—swiftly— And looks delighted—who leaves Saladin With other looks? Hoa, Nathan! NATHAN _and_ TEMPLAR. NATHAN. Are you there? TEMPLAR. Your visit to the sultan has been long. NATHAN. Not very long; my going was indeed Too much delayed. Troth, Conrade, this man’s fame Outstrips him not. His fame is but his shadow. But before all I have to tell you— TEMPLAR. What? NATHAN. That he would speak with you, and that directly. First to my house, where I would give some orders, Then we’ll together to the sultan. TEMPLAR. Nathan, I enter not thy doors again before— NATHAN. Then you’ve been there this while—have spoken with her. How do you like my Recha? TEMPLAR.