To madness, oh, you’re very penetrating. DAYA. Grant me the love, and I’ll give up the madness. TEMPLAR. Because that must be understood of course— A templar love a Jewess— DAYA. Seems absurd, But often there’s more fitness in a thing Than we at once discern; nor were this time The first, when through an unexpected path The Saviour drew his children on to him Across the tangled maze of human life. TEMPLAR. So solemn that—(and yet if in the stead Of Saviour, I were to say Providence, It would sound true) you make me curious, Daya, Which I’m unwont to be. DAYA. This is the place For miracles TEMPLAR. For wonders—well and good— Can it be otherwise, where the whole world Presses as toward a centre. My dear Daya, Consider what you asked of me as owned; That I do love her—that I can’t imagine How I should live without her—that DAYA. Indeed! Then, knight, swear to me you will call her yours, Make both her present and eternal welfare. TEMPLAR. And how, how can I, can I swear to do What is not in my power? DAYA. ’Tis in your power, A single word will put it in your power. TEMPLAR. So that her father shall not be against it. DAYA. Her father—father? he shall be compelled. TEMPLAR. As yet he is not fallen among thieves— Compelled? DAYA. Aye to be willing that you should. TEMPLAR. Compelled and willing—what if I inform thee That I have tried to touch this string already, It vibrates not responsive. DAYA. He refused thee? TEMPLAR. He answered in a tone of such discordance That I was hurt. DAYA. What do you say? How, you Betrayed the shadow of a wish for Recha, And he did not spring up for joy, drew back, Drew coldly back, made difficulties? TEMPLAR. Almost. DAYA. Well then I’ll not deliberate a moment. TEMPLAR. And yet you are deliberating still. DAYA. That man was always else so good, so kind, I am so deeply in his debt. Why, why Would he not listen to you? God’s my witness That my heart bleeds to come about him thus. TEMPLAR.