SCENE I.--_Jerusalem. A hall in_ NATHAN'S _house_. NATHAN, _in

travelling dress_. DAYA _meeting him_.

DAYA: 'Tis he, 'tis Nathan, thanks to God, returned, At last!

NATHAN: Yes, Daya, thanks; but why "at last"? 'Tis far to Babylon, and gathering in One's debts makes tardy journeying.

DAYA: Oh, Nathan! How near you came to misery; when afar, The house took fire, and Recha, 'mid the flames, Had all but perished.

NATHAN: Recha, O my Recha!

DAYA: Your Recha, _yours_? My conscience bids me speak----

NATHAN: See what a charming silk I bought for you In Babylon, and these Damascus jewels.

DAYA: I shall be silent.

NATHAN: Say, does Recha know I am arrived?

DAYA: This morn of you she dreamed; Her thoughts have only been with you and him Who saved her from the fire.

NATHAN: Ah, who is he?

DAYA: A young knight Templar lately captive ta'en, But pardoned by the sultan. He it was Who burst through flame and smoke; and she believes Him but a transient inmate of the earth-- A guardian angel! Stay, your daughter comes!

[_Enter_ RECHA.

RECHA: My very father's self! Oh, how I feared Perils of flood for thee, until the fire Came nigh me. Now, I think it must be balm To die by water! But you are not drowned: I am not burned! We'll praise the God Who bade My angel _visibly_ on his white wing Athwart the roaring flame----

NATHAN (_aside_): White wing? Oh, ay. The broad white fluttering mantle of the Templar.

RECHA: Yes, visibly he bore me through the fire O'ershadowed by his pinions--face to face I've seen an angel, father, my own angel!

NATHAN: A man had seemed an angel in such case!

RECHA: He was no real knight; no captive Templar Appears alive in wide Jerusalem.

DAYA: Yet Saladin granted this youth his life, For his great likeness to a dear dead brother.

NATHAN: Why need you, then, call angels into play?

DAYA: But then he wanted nothing, nothing sought; Was in himself sufficient, like an angel.

RECHA: And when at last he vanished----

NATHAN: Vanished! Have you not sought him? What if he-- That is, a Frank, unused to this fierce sun-- Now languish on a sick-bed, friendless, poor?

RECHA: Alas, my father!

NATHAN: What if he, unfriended, Lies ill and unrelieved; the hapless prey Of agony and death; consoled alone In death by the remembrance of this deed.

DAYA: You kill her!

NATHAN: You kill him.

RECHA: Not dead, not dead!

NATHAN: Dead, surely not, for God rewards the good E'en here below. But ah, remember well That rapt devotion is an easier thing Than one good action. Ha! What Mussulman Numbers my camels yonder? Why, for sure, It's my old chess companion, my old Dervish, Al Hafi!

DAYA: Treasurer now to Saladin.

[_Enter_ HAFI.

Ay, lift thine eyes and wonder!

NATHAN: Is it you? A Dervish so magnificent?

HAFI: Why not? Is Dervish, then, so hopeless? Rather ask What had been made of me. I'm treasurer To Saladin, whose coffers ever ebb Ere sunset; such his bounty to the poor! It brings me little, truly; but to thee 'Twas great advantage, for when money's low Thou couldst unlock thy sluices; ay, and charge Interest o'er interest!

NATHAN: Till my capital Becomes all interest?

HAFI: Nay, but that's unworthy, My friend; write _finis_ to our book of friendship If that's thy view. I count on thee for aid To quit me of my office worthily. Grant me but open chest with thee. What, no?

NATHAN: To Hafi, yes; but to the treasurer Of Saladin, Al Hafi, nay!

HAFI: These twain Shall soon be parted: by the Ganges strand I'll with my Dervish teachers wander barefoot, Or play at chess with them once more!

NATHAN: Al Hafi, Go to your desert quickly. Among men I fear you'll soon unlearn to be a man. [_Goes out_. What? Gone? I could have wished to question him About our Templar. Doubtless he will know him. DAYA (_bursting in_): Nathan, the Templar's yonder, 'neath the palms. Recha hath spied him, and she conjures you To follow him most punctually. Haste!

NATHAN: Take him my invitation.

DAYA: All in vain. He will not visit Jews.

NATHAN: Then hold him there Till I rejoin you. I shall not be long.