At once to her, To learn if she be bold enough at heart, To fix upon the only course that now Is worthy of her. NATHAN. Name it. TEMPLAR. It is this: That henceforth she should never care to know Aught of her brother or of you. NATHAN. What more? TEMPLAR. To follow me--even if it were her fate To wed a Mussulman. NATHAN. Stay, Templar, stay! You will not find her. She's with Sittah now, The Sultan's sister. TEMPLAR. Wherefore, and since when? NATHAN. If you desire to see her brother, come, Follow me straight. TEMPLAR. Her brother, say you? Whose? Recha's, or Sittah's? NATHAN. Both--ay, both, perhaps. But come this way, I pray you. Come with me. (Nathan _leads the_ Templar _away_.) Scene VI.--Sittah's _harem_. Sittah _and_ Recha _engaged in conversation_. SITTAH. How I am pleased with you, sweet girl. But, come, Shake off these fears, and be no more alarmed, Be happy, cheerful. Let me hear you talk. RECHA. Princess! SITTAH. Nay, child, not princess! Call me friend, Or Sittah--or your sister--or dear mother, For I might well be so to you--so good, So prudent, and so young! How much you know, How much you must have read! RECHA. Read, Sittah! now You're mocking me, for I can scarcely read. SITTAH. Scarce read, you young deceiver! RECHA. Yes, perhaps My father's hand; I thought you spoke of books. SITTAH. And so I did--of books. RECHA. They puzzle me To read. SITTAH. Indeed! RECHA. I speak, in veriest truth. My father hates book-learning, which he says, Makes an impression only on the brain With lifeless letters. SITTAH. Well, he's right in that. And so the greater part of what you know---- RECHA. I've learnt from his own mouth, and I can tell The when, the where, and why he taught it me.