child no more alone.--
But may he not have only gone a journey?

NATHAN.

Perhaps. But who is yonder Mussulman,
Numbering with curious eye my laden camels?
Say, do you know him?

DAJA.

Surely your own Dervise.

NATHAN.

Who?

DAJA.

Your Dervise--your old chess companion.

NATHAN.

Al-Hafi do you mean? What!--that Al-Hafi?

DAJA.

No other: now the Sultan's treasurer.

NATHAN.

What, old Al-Hafi? Do you dream again?
And yet 'tis he himself--he's coming hither.
Quick, in with you! What am I now to hear?

Scene III.

Nathan _and the_ Dervise.

DERVISE.

Ay, lift your eyes and wonder.

NATHAN.

Is it you?
A Dervise so magnificent!

DERVISE.

Why not?
Can you make nothing of a Dervise, Nathan?

NATHAN.

Ay, surely, but I've still been wont to think
A Dervise--I would say a thorough Dervise--
Will ne'er let anything be made of him.

DERVISE.

Well, by the Prophet! though it may be true
That I'm no thorough Dervise, yet one must----

NATHAN.

_Must_, Hafi! You a Dervise! No man _must_----
And least of all a Dervise.

DERVISE.

Nay, he must,
When he is much implored and deems it right.

NATHAN.

Well spoken, Hafi! Let us now embrace.
You're still, I trust, my friend.

DERVISE.

Why not ask first
What has been made of me?

NATHAN.

I take my chance,
In spite of all that has been made of you.

DERVISE.

May I not be a servant of the state
Whose friendship is no longer good for you?

NATHAN.

If you but