Gotthold Lessing - Nathan the Wise; a dramatic poem in five acts

Al-Hafi,
Go to your desert quickly. Among men
I fear you’ll soon unlearn to be a man.

And so do I—farewell.

What, so abruptly?
Stay, stay, Al-Hafi; has the desert wings?
Man, ’twill not run away, I warrant you—
Hear, hear, I want you—want to talk with you—
He’s gone. I could have liked to question him
About our templar. He will likely know him.

O Nathan, Nathan!

Well, what now?

He’s there.
He shows himself again.

Who, Daya, who?

He! he!

When cannot He be seen? Indeed
Your He is only one; that should not be,
Were he an angel even.

’Neath the palms
He wanders up and down, and gathers dates.

And eats?—and as a templar?

How you tease us!
Her eager eye espied him long ago,
While he scarce gleamed between the further stems,
And follows him most punctually. Go,
She begs, conjures you, go without delay;
And from the window will make signs to you
Which way his rovings bend. Do, do make haste.

What! thus, as I alighted from my camel,
Would that be decent? Swift, do you accost him,
Tell him of my return. I do not doubt,
His delicacy in the master’s absence
Forbore my house; but gladly will accept
The father’s invitation. Say, I ask him,
Most heartily request him—

All in vain!
In short, he will not visit any Jew.

Then do thy best endeavours to detain him,
Or with thine eyes to watch his further haunt,
Till I rejoin you. I shall not be long.

This fellow does not follow me for pastime.
How skaunt he eyes his hands! Well, my good brother—
Perhaps I should say, father; ought I not?

No—brother—a lay-brother at your service.

Well, brother, then; if I myself had something—
But—but, by God, I’ve nothing.

Thanks the same;
And God reward your purpose thousand-fold!
The will, and not the deed, makes up the giver.
Nor was I sent to follow you for alms—

Sent then?

Yes, from the monastery.

Where
I was just now in hopes of coming in
For pilgrims’ fare.

They were already at table:
But if it suit with you to turn directly—

Why so? ’Tis true, I have not tasted meat
This long time. What of that? The dates are ripe.

O with that fruit go cautiously to work.
Too much of it is hurtful, sours the humours,
Makes the blood melancholy.

And if I
Choose to be melancholy—For this warning
You were not sent to follow me, I ween.

Oh, no: I only was to ask about you,
And feel your pulse a little.

And you tell me
Of that yourself?

Why not?

A deep one! troth:
And has your cloister more such?

I can’t say.
Obedience is our bounden duty.

So—
And you obey without much scrupulous questioning?

Were it obedience else, good sir?

How is it
The simple mind is ever in the right?
May you inform me who it is that wishes
To know more of me? ’Tis not you yourself,
I dare be sworn.

Would it become me, sir,
Or benefit me?

Whom can it become,
Whom can it benefit, to be so curious?

The patriarch, I presume—’twas he that sent me.

The patriarch? Knows he not my badge, the cross
Of red on the white mantle?

Can I say?

Well, brother, well! I am a templar, taken
Prisoner at Tebnin, whose exalted fortress,
Just as the truce expired, we sought to climb,
In order to push forward next to Sidon.
I was the twentieth captive, but the only
Pardoned by Saladin—with this, the patriarch
Knows all, or more than his occasions ask.

And yet no more than he already knows,
I think. But why alone of all the captives
Thou hast been spared, he fain would learn—

Can I
Myself tell that? Already, with bare neck,
I kneeled upon my mantle, and awaited
The blow—when Saladin with steadfast eye
Fixed me, sprang nearer to me, made a sign—
I was upraised, unbound, about to thank him—
And saw his eye in tears. Both stand in silence.
He goes. I stay. How all this hangs together,
Thy patriarch may unriddle.

He concludes,
That God preserved you for some mighty deed.

Some mighty deed? To save out of the fire
A Jewish girl—to usher curious pilgrims
About Mount Sinai—to—

The time may come—
And this is no such trifle—but perhaps
The patriarch meditates a weightier office.

Think you so, brother? Has he hinted aught?

Why, yes; I was to sift you out a little,
And hear if you were one to—

Well—to what?
I’m curious to observe how this man sifts.

The shortest way will be to tell you plainly
What are the patriarch’s wishes.