TEMPLAR.

And not your son! I pray you, Nathan,
Conjure you, by the strongest ties of Nature,
Let it content you now to be a man:
Repel me not.

NATHAN.

My dearest friend!

TEMPLAR.

Say son!
Why not your son? What, if in Recha's heart
Mere gratitude had paved the way for love,
And if we both but waited your assent
To crown our union! You are silent, sir!

NATHAN.

I am astonished at your words, young Knight.

TEMPLAR.

Astonished! Do I then astonish you
With your own thoughts, although you know them not
When uttered by my lips. Astonished, Nathan?

NATHAN.

Would that I knew what Stauffen was your father!

TEMPLAR.

What say you, Nathan? At a time like this,
Can you indulge such empty, curious thoughts?

NATHAN.

I knew a Stauffen once whose name was Conrad.

TEMPLAR.

What, if my father bore that very name?

NATHAN.

And did he so?

TEMPLAR.

I bear my father's name,
I am called Conrad.

NATHAN.

So! And yet the man
I knew was not your father, for, like you,
He was a Templar, and was never married.

TEMPLAR.

And what of that?

NATHAN.

How?

TEMPLAR.

He might still have been
My father.

NATHAN.

Nay, you jest.

TEMPLAR.

You're far too good.
What matters it? Does bastard wound your ear?
The race, good sir, is not to be despised.
But spare my pedigree, and I'll spare yours.
Great God! forbid my words should ever cast
The smallest doubt on your ancestral tree.
You can attest it backwards, leaf by leaf,
To Abraham. And from that point--I know it well,
Myself--can even swear to it.

NATHAN.