Part 105 (1/2)

To lead you to that people--to that land To which you should belong by right of birth?

RECHA.

What are you saying, Daja? dearest Daja!

Indeed you have some strange and curious thoughts.

”_His_ G.o.d!” whose G.o.d? To whom can G.o.d belong, And how can G.o.d belong to any man, Or need a human arm to fight his battles?

And who, among the scattered clods of earth Can say for which of them himself was born, Unless for that on which he was produced?

If Nathan heard thee! How has Nathan sinned, That Daja seeks to paint my happiness So far removed from his? What has he done, That thus amongst the seeds of reason, which He sowed unmixed and pure within my soul, The hand of Daja must for ever seek To plant the weeds, or flowers of her own land?

He has no wish to see upon this soil Such rank luxuriant blossoms. I myself Must own I faint beneath the sour--sick odour; Your head is stronger and is used to it.

I find no fault with those of stronger nerves Who can support it--mine, alas! give way.

Your angel too, how near befool'd was I Through him; I blush whene'er I see my father.

DAJA.

As if, dear Recha, you alone were wise.

Folly! If I might speak----

RECHA.

And may you not?

Have I not listened gladly to your tales About the valiant heroes of your faith?

Have I not freely on their deeds bestowed My admiration--to their sufferings given The tribute of my tears? Their faith, 'tis true, Has never seemed to me their n.o.blest boast, But, therefore, Daja, I have only learnt To find more consolation in the thought That our devotion to the G.o.d of all Depends not on our notions of that G.o.d.

My father has so often taught me this-- You have so often to this point agreed, How can it be that you wish now alone To undermine what you have built together?

But this is no discourse with which to wait The friend whom we expect--and yet for me 'Tis of some moment whether he----But hark!

Hark! Some one comes this way.---If it were he!

Scene II.

The Templar, Daja, Recha.

(_A servant ushers in the_ Templar.)

This way, Sir Knight!--

(Recha _starts, composes herself, and is about to fall at his feet_.)

'Tis he! my rescuer. Ah!

TEMPLAR.

'Twas only to avoid this scene that I So long postponed my visit.

RECHA.

At the feet Of this proud man, I will thank G.o.d alone, And not the man. He does not want my thanks-- As little as the bucket does which proved Itself so useful at the fire, and let Itself be filled and emptied; so this man, He too was thrust by chance amid the flames; I dropped by chance into his open arms, By chance remained there, like a fluttering spark Upon his mantle--till--I know not what Expelled us from the flames. What room is here For thanks?--In Europe wine excites the men To greater deeds--The Templar knows his duty, Performs his task, as well-trained spaniels do, Who fetch alike from water and from flames.

TEMPLAR (_who has been surveying her with surprise and uneasiness_).