er 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 noblest boast,
But, therefore, Daja, I have only learnt
To find more consolation in the thought
That our devotion to the God of all
Depends not on our notions of that God.
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 God 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