Part 123 (2/2)

What, I?

NATHAN.

Who, then?

DAJA.

I, gracious Heaven?

NATHAN.

Who, then?

Whose wedding garment would you speak of, Daja?

All this is yours, 'tis meant for no one else.

DAJA.

What, mine! for me! I thought it was for Recha.

NATHAN.

No, what I bought for her is elsewhere packed; 'Tis in another bale. But, come, away With all this rubbish.

DAJA.

Nathan, tempt me not, For were these things the very costliest In all the world, I'll touch not one of them Till you have sworn to seize a happy chance Which Heaven ne'er offers twice.

NATHAN.

What happy chance?

What must I seize?

DAJA.

Nathan, feign not such ignorance.

But, in one word--the Templar loves your Recha-- Give her to him, and then your sin, which I Can hide no longer, will for ever cease.

The maid will then once more resume her place Amongst the Christians, will again become What she was born to, and what once she was; And you, whom we can never thank enough For all your goodness, will not then have heaped More burning coals of fire upon your head.

NATHAN.

Still harping on the same old string again, New tuned, but neither to accord nor hold.

DAJA.

How so?

NATHAN.

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