oys and finery.
And what could any sister wish for more--
Unless, perhaps, a husband? And him too,
Him too the brother, in due time, will find;
And the more Christian he, the better!--Nathan,
How sad to think the angel you have formed,
Should now be marred by others!

NATHAN.

Be assured
He'll always prove deserving of our love.

TEMPLAR.

Nay speak not so; of my love, speak not so,
For it can brook no loss, however small,
Not e'en a name. But, hold! Has she as yet
Any suspicion of these late events?

NATHAN.

'Tis possible, and yet I know not how.

TEMPLAR.

It matters not; she must, in either case,
First learn from me what fate is threat'ning her.
My purpose not to speak with her again,
And ne'er to see her more, till I should call
Your Recha mine, is gone. I take my leave.

NATHAN.

Nay, whither would you go?

TEMPLAR.

At once to her,
To learn if she be bold enough at heart,
To fix upon the only course that now
Is worthy of her.

NATHAN.

Name it.

TEMPLAR.

It is this:
That henceforth she should never care to know
Aught of her brother or of you.

NATHAN.

What more?

TEMPLAR.

To follow me--even if it were her fate
To wed a Mussulman.

NATHAN.

Stay, Templar, stay!
You will not find her. She's with Sittah now,
The Sultan's sister.

TEMPLAR.

Wherefore, and since when?

NATHAN.

If you desire to see her brother, come,
Follow me straight.

TEMPLAR.

Her brother, say you? Whose?
Recha's, or Sittah's?

NATHAN.

Both--ay, both, perhaps.
But come this way, I pray you. Come with me.
(Nathan _leads the_ Templar _away_.)