Why then I hope the warmest of my wishes Will have its turn, and happen.

RECHA.

'Stead of this, What wish shall take possession of my bosom, Which now without some ruling wish of wishes Knows not to heave? Shall nothing? ah, I shudder.

DAYA.

Yes: mine shall then supplant the one fulfilled - My wish to see thee placed one day in Europe In hands well worthy of thee.

RECHA.

No, thou errest - The very thing that makes thee form this wish Prevents its being mine. The country draws thee, And shall not mine retain me? Shall an image, A fond remembrance of thy home, thy kindred, Which years and distance have not yet effaced, Be mightier o'er thy soul, than what I hear, See, feel, and hold, of mine.

DAYA.

'Tis vain to struggle - The ways of heaven are the ways of heaven.

Is he the destined saviour, by whose arm His G.o.d, for whom he fights, intends to lead thee Into the land, which thou wast born for -

RECHA.

Daya, What art thou prating of? My dearest Daya, Indeed thou hast some strange unseemly notions.

"HIS G.o.d--FOR whom he fights"--what is a G.o.d Belonging to a man--needing another To fight his battles? And can we p.r.o.nounce FOR which among the scattered clods of earth You, I was born; unless it be for that ON which we were produced. If Nathan heard thee - What has my father done to thee, that thou Hast ever sought to paint my happiness As lying far remote from him and his.

What has he done to thee that thus, among The seeds of reason, which he sowed unmixed, Pure in my soul, thou ever must be seeking To plant the weeds, or flowers, of thy own land.

He wills not of these pranking gaudy blossoms Upon this soil. And I too must acknowledge I feel as if they had a sour-sweet odour, That makes me giddy--that half suffocates.

Thy head is wont to bear it. I don't blame Those stronger nerves that can support it. Mine - Mine it behoves not. Latterly thy angel Had made me half a fool. I am ashamed, Whene'er I see my father, of the folly.

DAYA.

As if here only wisdom were at home - Folly--if I dared speak.

RECHA.

And dar'st thou not?

When was I not all ear, if thou beganst To talk about the heroes of thy faith?

Have I not freely on their deeds bestowed My admiration, to their sufferings yielded The tribute of my tears? Their faith indeed Has never seemed their most heroic side To me: yet, therefore, have I only learnt To find more consolation in the thought, That our devotion to the G.o.d of all Depends not on our notions about G.o.d.

My father has so often told us so - Thou hast so often to this point consented - How can it be that thou alone art restless To undermine what you built up together?

This is not the most fit discussion, Daya, To usher in our friend to; tho' indeed I should not disincline to it--for to me It is of infinite importance if He too--but hark--there's some one at the door.

If it were he--stay--hush -

(A Slave who shows in the Templar.)

They are--here this way.

TEMPLAR, DAYA, and RECHA.

RECHA.

(starts--composes herself--then offers to fall at his feet) 'Tis he--my saviour! ah!

TEMPLAR.

This to avoid Have I alone deferred my call so long.

RECHA.

Yes, at the feet of this proud man, I will Thank--G.o.d alone. The man will have no thanks; No more than will the bucket which was busy In showering watery damps upon the flame.

That was filled, emptied--but to me, to thee What boots it? So the man--he too, he too Was thrust, he knew not how, and the fire.

I dropped, by chance, into his open arm.

By chance, remained there--like a fluttering spark Upon his mantle--till--I know not what Pushed us both from amid the conflagration.

What room is here for thanks? How oft in Europe Wine urges men to very different deeds!

Templars must so behave; it is their office, Like better taught or rather handier spaniels, To fetch from out of fire, as out of water.

TEMPLAR.

Oh Daya, Daya, if, in hasty moments Of care and of chagrin, my unchecked temper Betrayed me into rudeness, why convey To her each idle word that left my tongue?

This is too piercing a revenge indeed; Yet if henceforth thou wilt interpret better -

DAYA.

I question if these barbed words, Sir Knight, Alighted so, as to have much disserved you.

RECHA.

How, you had cares, and were more covetous Of them than of your life?

TEMPLAR.

[who has been viewing her with wonder and perturbation].

Thou best of beings, How is my soul 'twixt eye and ear divided!

No: 'twas not she I s.n.a.t.c.hed from amid fire: For who could know her and forbear to do it? - Indeed--disguised by terror - [Pause: during which he gazes on her as it were entranced.

RECHA.

But to me You still appear the same you then appeared.

[Another like pause--till she resumes, in order to interrupt him.

Now tell me, knight, where have you been so long?

It seems as might I ask--where are you now?

TEMPLAR.

I am--where I perhaps ought not to be.

RECHA.

Where have you been? where you perhaps ought not - That is not well.