NATHAN. How so? TEMPLAR. Do hear me to the end. I fancied That what you from the Christians had purloined You wasn’t content to let a Christian have; And so the project struck me short and good, To hold the knife to your throat till— NATHAN. Short and good; And good—but where’s the good? TEMPLAR. Yet hear me, Nathan, I own I did not right—you are unguilty, No doubt. The prating Daya does not know What she reported—has a grudge against you— Seeks to involve you in an ugly business— May be, may be, and I’m a crazy looby, A credulous enthusiast—both ways mad— Doing ever much too much, or much too little— That too may be—forgive me, Nathan. NATHAN. If Such be the light in which you view— TEMPLAR. In short I to the patriarch went. I named you not. That, as I said, was false. I only stated In general terms, the case, to learn his notion, That too might have been let alone—assuredly. For knew I not the patriarch then to be A knave? And might I not have talked with you? And ought I to have exposed the poor girl—ha! To part with such a father? Now what happens? The patriarch’s villainy consistent ever Restored me to myself—O, hear me out— Suppose he was to ferret out your name, What then? What then? He cannot seize the maid, Unless she still belong to none but you. ’Tis from your house alone that he could drag her Into a convent; therefore grant her me— Grant her to me, and let him come. By God— Sever my wife from me—he’ll not be rash Enough to think about it. Give her to me, Be she or no thy daughter, Christian, Jewess, Or neither, ’tis all one, all one—I’ll never In my whole life ask of thee which she is, Be’t as it may. NATHAN. You may perhaps imagine That I’ve an interest to conceal the truth. TEMPLAR. Be’t as it may. NATHAN. I neither have to you Nor any one, whom it behooved to know it, Denied that she’s a Christian, and no more Than my adopted daughter. Why, to her I have not yet betrayed it—I am bound To justify only to her. TEMPLAR. Of that Shall be no need. Indulge, indulge her with Never beholding you with other eyes— Spare, spare her the discovery. As yet You have her to yourself, and may bestow her; Give her to me—oh, I beseech thee, Nathan, Give her to me, I, only I can save her A second time, and will. NATHAN. Yes, could have saved her. But ’tis all over now—it is too late. TEMPLAR.