NATHAN.

He is a Frank, unused to this hot clime,
Young and unpractised in his order's rules,
In fastings and in watchings quite untrained.

RECHA.

Sick! sick!

DAJA.

Your father means 'twere possible.

NATHAN.

Friendless and penniless, he may be lying
Without the means to purchase aid.

RECHA.

Alas!

NATHAN.

Without advice, or hope, or sympathy,
May lie a prey to agony and death.

RECHA.

Where, where?

NATHAN.

And yet for one he never knew--
Enough for him it was a human being--
He plunged amid the flames and----

DAJA.

Spare her, Nathan!

NATHAN.

He sought no more to know the being whom
He rescued thus--he shunned her very thanks----

RECHA.

Oh, spare her!

NATHAN.

Did not wish to see her more,
Unless to save her for the second time--
Enough for him that she was human!

DAJA.

Hold!

NATHAN.

He may have nothing to console him dying,
Save the remembrance of his deed.

DAJA.

You kill her!

NATHAN.

And you kill him, or might have done at least.
'Tis med'cine that I give, not poison, Recha!
But be of better cheer: he lives--perhaps
He is not ill.

RECHA.

Indeed? not dead--not ill?

NATHAN.

Assuredly not dead--for God rewards
Good deeds done here below--rewards them hero.
Then go, but ne'er forget how easier far
Devout enthusiasm is, than good deeds.
How soon our indolence contents itself
With pious raptures, ignorant, perhaps,
Of their ulterior end, that we may be
Exempted from the toil of doing good.

RECHA.

O father! leave your