DAJA. Confess at least, dear Recha, That all this restlessness has brought you pleasure, And that you have to thank his want of ease For all the ease that you yourself enjoy. RECHA. I know not that, but I must still confess That to myself it seems a mystery How in this bosom, such a pleasing calm Can suddenly succeed so rude a storm. His countenance, his speech, his manner have---- DAJA. By this time satisfied you. RECHA. No, not that. DAJA. Well, satisfied your more impatient want. RECHA. Well, well, if you must have it so. DAJA. Not I! RECHA. To me he must be ever dear. To me He must remain more dear than life, although My pulse no longer flutters at his name, My heart no longer, when I think of him, Beats with a fuller throb. What have I said? Come, Daja, to the window once again Which overlooks the palms. DAJA. I see 'tis not Yet satisfied, that more impatient want. RECHA. Now, I shall see the palm--trees once again; Not him alone amidst them. DAJA. Such a fit Of coldness speaks of fevers yet to come. RECHA. Nay, I'm not cold, in truth I do not see Less gladly that which I do calmly see. Scene IV. (_The Hall of Audience in_ Saladin's _Palace_.) Saladin, Sittah. SALADIN (_giving directions_). Bring the Jew here, as soon as he arrives. He seems in no great haste. SITTAH. Nay, Saladin, Perhaps he was not found at home. SALADIN. Ah, sister! SITTAH. You look as if some contest were at hand. SALADIN. Ay! and with weapons I'm not used to wield. Must I then play the hypocrite--and frame Precautions--lay a snare? Where learnt I that? And for what end? To seek for money--money! For money from a Jew? And to such arts Must Saladin descend, that he may win The most contemptible of paltry things? SITTAH. But paltry things, despised too much, are sure To find some method of revenge. SALADIN.