SITTAH. Why, what is this? wherefore this gold to me? SALADIN. Recoup yourself with it, if aught is left, Keep it in store. SITTAH. Are Nathan and the Knight Not yet arrived? SALADIN. The former everywhere Is seeking him. SITTAH. Behold what I have found In turning o'er my ornaments and jewels (_showing a small portrait_). SALADIN. Ha! what is here! a portrait! yes, my brother! 'Tis he--'tis he! _Was_ he--_was_ he, alas! Oh dear, brave youth! so early lost to me! With thee at hand what had I not achieved! Give me the portrait, Sittah. I recall This picture well. He gave it to his Lilla-- Your elder sister--when one summer morn He tore himself away reluctantly. She would not yield, but clasped him in her arms. 'Twas the last morning that he e'er rode forth, And I, alas! I let him ride alone. Poor Lilla died of grief, and ne'er forgave My error that I let him ride alone. He ne'er returned. SITTAH. Poor brother! SALADIN. Say no more. A few short years, and we shall ne'er return. And then who knows? But 'tis not death alone That blights the hopes and promises of youth, They have far other foes, and oftentimes The strongest, like the weakest, is o'ercome. But be that as it may, I must compare This portrait with the Templar, that I may Observe how much my fancy cheated me. SITTAH. 'Twas for that purpose that I brought it here. But give it, and I'll tell thee if 'tis like: We women are best judges of such things. SALADIN (_to the doorkeeper who enters_). Who's there? the Templar? Bid him come at once. SITTAH. Not to disturb you, or perplex him with My curious questions, I'll retire awhile. (_Throws herself upon the sofa, and lets her veil fall_.) SALADIN. That's well. (And now his voice--will that be like? For Assad's voice still slumbers in my soul!) Scene IV. _The_ Templar _and_ Saladin. TEMPLAR. I am your prisoner, Sultan. SALADIN. You my prisoner! Shall I refuse him liberty, whose life I freely spared? TEMPLAR.