No More Learning

RECHA: Not dead, not dead!

NATHAN: Dead, surely not, for God rewards the good
E'en here below. But ah, remember well
That rapt devotion is an easier thing
Than one good action. Ha! What Mussulman
Numbers my camels yonder? Why, for sure,
It's my old chess companion, my old Dervish,
Al Hafi!

DAYA: Treasurer now to Saladin.

[_Enter_ HAFI.

Ay, lift thine eyes and wonder!

NATHAN: Is it you?
A Dervish so magnificent?

HAFI: Why not?
Is Dervish, then, so hopeless? Rather ask
What had been made of me. I'm treasurer
To Saladin, whose coffers ever ebb
Ere sunset; such his bounty to the poor!
It brings me little, truly; but to thee
'Twas great advantage, for when money's low
Thou couldst unlock thy sluices; ay, and charge
Interest o'er interest!

NATHAN: Till my capital
Becomes all interest?

HAFI: Nay, but that's unworthy,
My friend; write _finis_ to our book of friendship
If that's thy view. I count on thee for aid
To quit me of my office worthily.
Grant me but open chest with thee. What, no?

NATHAN: To Hafi, yes; but to the treasurer
Of Saladin, Al Hafi, nay!

HAFI: These twain
Shall soon be parted: by the Ganges strand
I'll with my Dervish teachers wander barefoot,
Or play at chess with them once more!

NATHAN: Al Hafi,
Go to your desert quickly. Among men
I fear you'll soon unlearn to be a man. [_Goes out_.
What? Gone? I could have wished to question him
About our Templar. Doubtless he will know him.
DAYA (_bursting in_): Nathan, the Templar's yonder, 'neath the palms.