NATHAN THE WISE. 
 

 • 
 
^L&rc 
 
 NATHAN, 
 THE WISE 
 
 A DRAMATIC POEM 
 
 OF FIVE ACTS, 
 
 BY 
 
 TRANSLATED INTO ENGLISH PROSE 
 DR. ISIDOR KALISCH. 
 
 NEW YORK; 
 
 WALDHEIMER & ZENN, PUBLISHERS, 10 JOHN ST. 
 18 6 9. 
 
T \*2-' 
 
 A 03 
 
 M 
 
 ^ 
 
 Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 18*i9, A, D., by 
 
 Dr. IfaiDoR Kalisch, in the Clerk's Office of the District Court 
 
 of the United States, for the Southern District 
 
 of New York. 
 
 r; 
 
PREFACE. 
 
 A genuine seer and poet is the common 
 property of all nations. His ideas, thoughts, 
 words and doctrines ought, especially in our 
 own progressive age, be known to all. 
 
 And such a one was Gotthold Epheaim 
 Lessing, who was born in 1729, in the city of 
 Kamenz, in the Saxonian Oberlausitz (Upper 
 Lusatia) where his father was officiating as 
 first Evangelical Minister, and died in the city 
 of Braunschweig (Brunswick) on the 15th of 
 February, 1781. His Mends erected to him 
 a monument in the Library Square, in the 
 city of "Wolfenbuetel ; but the best one he 
 erected to himself in his immortal works. 
 
 It is well acknowledged by his countrymen, 
 that he was the reformer of the German Na- 
 tional Literature and spiritual life generally, 
 a fine and acute critic, a poet well versed in 
 
ii. PREFACE. 
 
 the classical as well as in modern languages, 
 and thoroughly acquainted with the ancient 
 sources of theology. 
 
 He was a burning and shining light of such 
 rare power and splendor, that it will warm the 
 human heart and enlighten the spirit where- 
 ever a glimpse of it will be visible. He belongs, 
 therefore, not to a particular age and nation, 
 but to the whole human family of the present 
 and future. 
 
 He took to himself the whole armor of God, 
 tfuth combined with tolerance, pressed forward 
 manfully, and tried to lead to the deep springs 
 of universal religion, fed ever from the celes- 
 tial heights of the Divine nature, whence flows 
 that mighty river of God, full of living water, 
 where all mankind may drink perennial sup- 
 ply. Very ingeniously remarked Dr. Gabriel 
 Kiesser (Riesser's Gesammelte Schriften, vol. iv. 
 p. 1-5-30) : " There are names, the sounds of 
 which embody the most noble endeavors of 
 humanity, so that they impart to our souls 
 more than any elaborate speech can ever do. 
 The name of a great man animates us by an 
 idea, the expression of which was his person- 
 ality and the representation of it was his life: 
 
PREFACE. iii. 
 
 and works. All, that speech is too poor to 
 express in distinct terms and which can scarcely 
 be stammered in abstruse abstractions, sonnds 
 in snch a name lively and vigorously in our 
 souls. The immortality of every great man 
 enriches his native tongue with a word, signi- 
 ficant and instructive, as there cannot be found 
 any one like that in the whole treasure of the 
 language. The recollection of its master 
 spirits is the richest inheritance of every 
 people's language. All humanity draws from 
 the same source the description of its deepest 
 emotions. As science designates stars by 
 names, thus history of mankind calls after its 
 great men the shining epochs and turns of 
 events and the most significant directions. 
 Their memory is the most holy legacy of the 
 past, and an elevating guaranty of the future. 
 Their names, like healing magic words, act on 
 the mind of him who is dejected by the suffer- 
 ing of the present. They awake again the 
 confidence in progress and in the future 
 humanity, should it begin to waver on acc<" 
 of the scene of a momentary standstill or i 
 rogression. Tims means the name Lessin^ 
 culture of humanity, philanthropy, enlighten- 
 
iv. PREFACE. 
 
 ment, civil and religious liberty, war against 
 intolerance, religious hate and the oppression 
 of reason. Every heart that beats higher in 
 great hope for humanity by such ideas, feeling 
 a deep interest in the struggles of the present, 
 and being painfully agitated by the recollection 
 of the troubles of the past, it is warmed and re- 
 animated by the deep breath of the name 
 Lessing. The offended feeling is cheered up 
 and consoled, the enfeebled sense revels with 
 gladness in the breathing of a refreshing air, 
 it gains new strength to execute works of hu- 
 manity ; it heard a word of comfort and prom- 
 ise and is strengthened anew in faith and trust. 
 But there is still a much closer connection 
 which agitates our heart when mentioning his 
 name. Wherever was the deepest darkness, 
 there let Lessing- shine the sun of his spirit the 
 brightest and most brilliantly ; wherever the 
 hate raged fearfully and was most destructive 
 since many centuries, there his philanthropy 
 exercised most zealously and gloriously its san- 
 ative power. His great heart embraced all 
 humanity with an inexhaustible love ; his un- 
 flinching courage and his never-failing intel- 
 lectual power were ever ready to light against 
 
PREFACE. t. 
 
 every prejudice, against every falsehood, and 
 against every unjust hatred. — 
 
 A glance on Lessing's grand poem, on his 
 Nathan the Wise, teaches us how distant Les- 
 sing's muse has been from the censured pre- 
 judices. This drama was devoted to tolera- 
 tion, liberty of conscience and love of human- 
 ity ; hatred and fanaticism are the blind 
 demons with which wisdom and love grapple 
 and overcome them gloriously. There was no 
 lack of critics who on account of an adopted 
 theory did not like to look on Nathan as a 
 poetical piece ; because, as they pleased to 
 express themselves, it has a didactical ten- 
 dency. As if it were unbecoming a poet to 
 teach and cultivate! But there is at the bot- 
 tom a misunderstanding of a peculiar kind. 
 It is not the teaching, but the manner and 
 form of expressing it can only become detri- 
 mental to poetry. 
 
 Nature also teaches ; but she instructs with- 
 out any intention to do so and to make it visi- 
 ble before our eyes ; she teaches, when she is 
 creating, forming and preserving. We may 
 demand of the poet, that he shall imitate the 
 mysterious charm of nature as much as possi- 
 
vi. PREFACE. 
 
 ble, that lie shall attract and win onr hearts by 
 living" creations of his imagination, and that 
 he shall instruct us unperceivingly while we 
 are delighted with a lovely contemplation. 
 Therefore, we can then reproach the poet, and 
 only then, if the characters represented by him 
 leave us without any sympathy, and, instead 
 of a lively stimulating of our feelings, which 
 we expect first of all, and indirectly, we per- 
 ceive only a cold intention of instructing us. 
 But he whose warm sympathy is not aroused 
 by the characters in Lessixg's Nathan; he 
 whose tolerance and love are not gained by the 
 representatives of the three religions, which 
 they teach by their personalities, he is not ca- 
 pable of any poetical sympathy, and he may 
 deplore his own poor nature, if he cannot 
 detect any other intention except to impart 
 sublime principles to his revolting conscious- 
 ness. A spirit like Lessestg-'s could not desist 
 from his endeavors in any branch of his activity 
 to instruct and to promote light and knowl- 
 edge, and we may assume the idea, that he 
 would have renounced poetry altogether, had 
 its lawi really demanded of him such a desist- 
 ance. But true poetry forbids as little to 
 
PREFACE. vii. 
 
 instruct as it forbids to love. But instruction 
 as little as love, wisdom as little as emotion 
 should replace the productive power of inven- 
 tion and language ; they must satisfy the re- 
 quirements of the poetical form of which they 
 make use of, as they do in the highest degree 
 in Lessing's poem. 
 
 The particular circumstance, however, that 
 Lessestg put the luminous point of this poem in 
 the character of a Jew which gave much 
 offence to the intolerance of his cotemporaries 
 as well as to that of latter generations, dare 
 not be passed over in silence. It must be 
 admitted, that herein the sublime idea of hu- 
 manity and poetical justice was conceived. 
 What nobler task can poetry as well as philan- 
 thropy assign to themselves, than that to heal 
 the most painful wounds which hatred has 
 inflicted, and to carry the. light of human right 
 and loving acknowledgement into the deepest 
 night of a misjudging hard-heartedness and 
 blinded prejudice ? 
 
 Lessing's muse has therefore selected Juda- 
 ism for the corner-stone of the temple of re- 
 conciliation and philanthropy ; because it suf- 
 fered the longest and most severely by oppres- 
 
viii. PREFACE. 
 
 sion, hatred and persecution. The poet let his 
 Jew be the least and his Christian the most 
 biased by his own prejudice. From the begin- 
 ning of his poem he let shine in the first the sen- 
 timent of a pure humanity, which high degree 
 the latter reaches after many errors and inward 
 struggles. We will neither use this creation of 
 such a deep, human and poetical mind for ac- 
 cusations nor for a presumptuous arrogance. 
 We will rather in like manner perceive in both 
 characters, in the one who appears accomplish- 
 ed before us as well as in the one who tries 
 to gain perfection before our face such pic- 
 tures of unattained ideals which make us 
 ashamed and which the poet wanted to show 
 to the different religious sects." 
 
 I have translated into English " Nathan, the 
 Wise" one of the master-pieces of this author, 
 in order to make my fellow-citizens familiar 
 with the grand ideas of this illustrious for- 
 eigner. .It is not here the place to discuss at 
 large as to the comparative merit of prose and 
 metrical translation ; but I will simply state 
 the reason why I have translated this master- 
 piece of Lessino in prose. I fully agree with 
 the learned correspondent of the " Examiner" 
 
PREFACE. ix. 
 
 who says : " No poetical translation can give 
 the rhythm and rhyme of the original ; it can 
 only substitute the rythm and rhyme of the 
 translator ; and for the sake of this substitute, 
 we must renounce some portion of the original 
 sense, and nearly all the expressions ; whereas, 
 by a prose translation, we can arrive perfectly 
 at the thoughts, and very nearly at the words 
 of the original." 
 
 Whether I have succeeded to taste the origi- 
 nal to the core, and tried to preserve the light 
 and shade of the poetical picture, by adequate 
 expressions, so that f my English version of 
 " Nathan the Wise " be called a right transla- 
 tion, I leave it to the kind judgment of im- 
 partial critics. 
 
 Dr. ISIDOK KALISCH. 
 
CHARACTERS. 
 
 Sultan Saladin. 
 
 Sittah, his Sister. 
 
 Nathan, a rich Jew dwelling in Jerusalem. 
 
 Recha, his adopted daughter. 
 
 Daja, a Christian, living in the house of the Jew 
 
 as a companion of Recha. 
 A Young Templar. 
 A Dervise. 
 
 The Patriarch of Jerusalem. 
 A Lay-Brother. 
 
 An Emir and several Mamelukes in the service 
 of Saladin . 
 
 ■ Scene — Jerusalem in Palestine. 
 
ACT I. 
 
 Scene 1. — A vestibule in Nathan's house. 
 
 Enter Nathan returning from a trip. Daja hastening to 
 
 meet him. 
 
 Daja. That is he ! Nathan — God be praised 
 for ever, that he has returned at last. 
 
 Nat. Yes, Daja ! God be praised ! But 
 why do you say at last? Did I intend, or could 
 I return earlier ? The way I had to travel from 
 Babylon to Jerusalem, turning sometimes to 
 the right and sometimes to the left is about two 
 hundred leagues, and to collect accounts is 
 surely not a business going on so well that it 
 were to be finished speedily. 
 
 Daja. Oh, Nathan ! how very wretched could 
 you have been rendered here in the meantime ! 
 Your house — 
 
 Nat. "Was on fire. I was told so already. 
 May God grant that I am now informed of 
 all. 
 
6 - NATHAN THE WISE. 
 
 Daja. And had like to be burnt to the 
 ground. 
 
 Nat. Well, Daja, we had built then for us a 
 new one, and still more convenient. 
 
 Daja. Very true !— But Recha was within a 
 hair's breadth of being burnt. 
 
 Nat. Burnt ? Who ? My Recha ? She ? 
 I did not hear that. Now, then ! I had no 
 need of a house any more. Burnt within a 
 hair's breadth ! Ho ! She is indeed ! Is act- 
 ually burnt ! Speak it out ! Out with it ! Kill 
 me, and torture me not any longer. Yes, she 
 is burnt to death. 
 
 Daja. And if she were, would you learn 
 that from me? 
 
 Nat. Now, why do you terrify me? Oh, 
 Recha, oh my Recha ! 
 
 Daja, Yours ! — Your Recha ? 
 
 Nat. If I ever had to abandon the habit to 
 call that child my child ! 
 
 Daja. Do you call all that you possess yours 
 with just as much legality ? 
 
NATHAN THE WISE. 1 
 
 Nat. Nothing I do with, more right than that 
 All else I possess has fallen to my share by 
 nature and fortune. For this property alone I 
 am indebted to virtue. 
 
 Daja. Oh, Nathan ! how dear you make me 
 pay for your benignity ! If goodness exercised 
 with such an intention can still be called so. 
 
 Nat. With such an intention ? With what ? 
 
 Daja. My conscience 
 
 Nat. Daja, let me tell you before all. 
 
 Daja. My conscience I say. . . . 
 
 Nat. What a beautiful stuff I bought for 
 you in Babylon. So rich, and so tastefully 
 rich ! I hardly bring a finer one for Eecha. 
 
 Daja. What boots it? For I tell you my 
 conscience cannot be silenced any longer. 
 
 Nat. I would like very much to see how 
 you are pleased with the bracelets, ear-rings, 
 ring and chain, which I purchased for you in 
 Damascus. 
 
 Daja. Now, so are you ! If you can only 
 favor with gifts ! only make presents ! 
 
8 NATHAN THE WISE. 
 
 Nat. Take them so cheerfully as I give 
 them to you ; — and be silent ! 
 
 Daja. Nathan, who is doubting, that you are 
 not the very personification of honesty and 
 generosity ? and yet ? 
 
 Nat. Yet ! I am but a Jew. Is it not that 
 you meant to say ? 
 
 Daja. What I wished to say, you know it 
 better. 
 
 Nat. Well, keep silence ! 
 
 Daja. I will not say a word. All that is 
 censurable by this before God which I cannot 
 hinder nor alter — cannot — fall upon you. 
 
 Nat. Fall upon my head ! But where is 
 she ? Where does she tarry so long ? Daja, 
 if you deceive me ! Does she know that I 
 arrived ? 
 
 Daja. I ask you that ! Every nerve of her 
 trembles still with terror, and her imagination 
 is still painting fire to all its paintings. In 
 sleep her spirit is awake, and sleeps when awake. 
 Now less than a beast, then more than an 
 angel. 
 
NATHAN THE .WISE. 9 
 
 Nat. Poor child ! What are we men ! 
 
 Daja. This morning she was lying long, with 
 closed eyes, and was like death. She sprang 
 up suddenly and cried hark I hark ! There, the 
 camels of my father, are coming ! Listen ! his 
 very voice, sweet and gentle ! Her eyes grew 
 dim once again, and her head supported on her 
 arm that was withdrawn, fell back upon the 
 pillow. I ran through the gate ! And lo ! there 
 you are coming ! Indeed ! you are coming 
 What wonder? Her whole soul was all the 
 time but with you — and him. 
 
 Nat. And him ? with what him ? 
 
 Daja. With him who saved her from the 
 fire. 
 
 Nat. Who was that ? Who ? Where is he ? 
 Who saved to me my Recha ? Who ? 
 
 Daja. A young Templar who was brought 
 captive a few days previous, and was pardoned 
 by Saladin. 
 
 Nat. How ? A Templar whom Sultan Sala- 
 din gave quarter ? Could Recha not be res- 
 cued by a lesser miracle ? Oh, Grod ! 
 
10 NATHAN THE WISE. 
 
 Daja. And but for him, who risked bravely 
 again his unexpected prize, it were all over 
 with her. 
 
 Nat. Where is he, Daja, this generous man ? 
 Where is he ? Lead me to him to throw 
 myself at his feet You gave him in the first 
 place the treasures I left to you ? You gave 
 him all ? you promised more ? far more ? 
 
 Daja. How could we ? 
 
 Nat. You did not ? No ? 
 
 Daja. He came, and nobody knows from 
 whence. He went and nobody knows whither. 
 Having been an utter stranger in the house, he 
 was only guided by his ear and with an un- 
 folded cloak he forced his way boldly through 
 smoke and flames, to the voice which cried to 
 us for help. We had already given him up as 
 lost when out of smoke and flames he suddenly 
 stood before us carrying her aloft in his strong 
 arm. Cold and untouched by the loud accla- 
 mations of our joy and thanks, he put down 
 his booty, squeezed through the crowd and 
 disappeared. 
 
 Nat. Not forever, I hope. 
 
NATHAN THE WISE. 11 
 
 Daja. We saw him walking in the first clays 
 afterwards up and down under the palm-trees 
 which shade the sepulchre of the Ascended. 
 I approached him with joy, thanked, eulogized, 
 bade and conjured him, — to see but once more 
 the pious creature that cannot rest until she 
 cried out her thanks at his feet 
 
 Nat. Well? 
 
 Daja. In vain ! He remained deaf to our 
 entreaties, and poured out such sarcasm especi- 
 ally upon me 
 
 Nat. Until frightened away by this. . . 
 
 Daja. Not at all ! I accosted him again 
 every day and suffered myself to be 
 scorned daily anew. What did I not endure 
 from him ? What would I not bear still pa- 
 tiently from him ? But it is very long, that 
 he does not come any more to resort to the 
 palm-trees which overshadow the grave of our 
 Ascended, and nobody knows what has become 
 of him. You are amazed ? You are musing ? 
 
 Nat. I think it over what an impression this 
 must have made upon a spirit like Kecha's, to 
 find to be thus despised by him, whom one is 
 
12 NATHAN THE WISE. 
 
 forced to esteem so highly ; to be repulsed in 
 such a degree, and yet to be so attracted ! 
 Heart and head must indeed quarrel with each 
 other very long, whether misanthropy or mel- 
 ancholy shall be victorious. None of them will 
 often triumph, and the imagination which inter- 
 feres in the dispute makes enthusiasts by whom 
 the head must now play the heart and then the 
 heart play the head. Bad exchange. The lat- 
 ter, if I do not mistake, Recha, is her case. 
 She gives herself up to wild nights of imagina- 
 tion. 
 
 Daja. But she does it so piously and so 
 lovely. 
 
 Nat.. It is nevertheless roving ! 
 
 Daja. There is especially one vagary, if 
 you please, very dear to her. Her Templar 
 was no terrestial man, nor of this earthly world, 
 but one of the angels, to the protection of whom 
 her little heart readily believed to be intrusted 
 from infancy, who was hitherto wrapped in a 
 cloud, hovering around her, even in the fire, 
 and came forth now as a Templar. Do not 
 smile ! Who knows ? And if smile you must, 
 let her at least one delusion upon which Jew, 
 
NATHAN THE WISH. 13 
 
 Christian, and Mohammedan agree — such a 
 sweet error ! 
 
 Nat. It is also sweet to me ! Go my dear 
 Daja, go, look how she is ; whether I can see 
 her. I will search then for the surly humor- 
 ous guardian angel. And if he be pleased to 
 walk still in this world among us, if he likes to 
 play chivalry so unmannerly I shall find him 
 surely, and bring him with me to this place. 
 
 Daja. You undertake very much. 
 
 Nat. Should then sweet illusion give way to 
 the sweeter truth, for believe me, Daja, a man is 
 always more agreeable to men than an angel. — 
 You will not be angry with me in curing the 
 angelic enthusiast ? 
 
 Daja. You are so good, and at the same time 
 so bad ! I go ! but lo ! there she is coming 
 herself. 
 
 Scene II. — Recha and the Former. 
 
 Rech. Are you entirely here, my father? 
 I thought you had but sent on your voice, 
 
14 NATHAN THE WISE. 
 
 Where do you tarry so long ? What moun- 
 tains, deserts and rivers separate us still from 
 each other? You are breathing close by the 
 same wall with her, and yet you hurry not to 
 embrace your Eecha ? Poor Recha, who was 
 burnt in the meantime ! — Almost, well nigh 
 was burnt, yes, but almost. Shudder not ! It 
 is a horrible death to be burnt. Oh ! 
 
 Nat. My child ! my darling child ! 
 
 Rech. You had to take your voyage over the 
 Euphrates, Tigris, Jordan; over — who knows 
 all the rivers ? How often did I tremble for 
 your life before the fire came so near me, but 
 now it seems to me, to die by water is refresh- 
 ment, comfort, deliverance. You are, however, 
 not drowned, and I am not burnt. Now let 
 us rejoice and praise God the Almighty ! He, 
 he carried you and the boat upon the wings of 
 his invisible angels over the faithless streams. 
 He, he beckoned to my angel, that he shall 
 visibly carry me on his white wings through 
 the fire. 
 
 .Nat. (White wings ! Yes, yes ! The ex- 
 tended white cloak of the Templar.) 
 
NATHAN THE WISE. 15 
 
 Eech. He visibly carried me, yes, visibly 
 through the fire, blown away by his wings. — 
 I have seen now an angel from face to face ; 
 and my angel. 
 
 Nat. Eecha were deserving it, and she would 
 not behold more beauty in him than he could 
 in her. 
 
 Eech. (smilingly) Whom are you flattering, 
 my father? Whom? The angel or yourself ? 
 
 Nat. But if only a man — a man as nature 
 presents him daily had rendered you the ser- 
 vice, he must be for you an angel. He must 
 and would be so. 
 
 Eech. Not such an angel ! No ! A real one ! 
 It was surely a real one ! — Did not you yourself 
 teach me the possibility, that there are angels, 
 and that God can also work miracles for those 
 who love him ? Why, I love him. 
 
 Nat. And he loves you and performs miracles 
 for you' and the like hourly. Yes, he wrought 
 them for you from all eternity. 
 
 Eech. That I like to hear. 
 
16 NATHAN THE WISE. 
 
 Nat. How ? If a real Templar saved you, 
 shall it therefore be much less a wonder 
 because it sounds 'natural and common? It is 
 the greatest of all miracles, that true and real 
 wonders can become so common to us in every 
 day life. Without this general wonder has 
 hardly any reflecting mind, called ever that a 
 wonder which only children call so who are 
 staring at the most unusual or marvelous 
 things. 
 
 Daja. (To Nathan) Will you burst by such 
 subtilities the brains of her, that were already 
 overstrained ? 
 
 Nat. Let me alone ! Were it not wonder 
 enough to my Recha that a man saved her who 
 had first to be saved himself by not an insignifi- 
 cant wonder ? Yes ! it is highly marvelous ! 
 For who has ever heard before, that Saladin 
 spared the life of a Templar ? That a Templar 
 ever wished or hoped to be spared by him ? 
 That he ever offered to him anything more for 
 freedom than a leather belt dragging his irons, 
 and at most his poinard ? 
 
 Rech. That makes an inference for me, my 
 father. — Therefore he was not a Templar, but 
 
NATHAN THE WISE. 17 
 
 appeared only to be so. If a captured Templar 
 comes never to the city of Jerusalem but to a 
 certain death ; if such a one is never moving 
 freely in Jerusalem, how could a real Templar 
 save me voluntarily by night? 
 
 Nat. Oh, how sensible ! Now, Daja, begin to 
 speak. I have the report from you, that he 
 was sent as a prisoner hither. It is no doubt, 
 that you know more about it. 
 
 Daja. Well, yes. Indeed, they say so ; but 
 it is also rumored, that Saladin pardoned him 
 on account of the resemblance between him and 
 one of his brothers who was most endeared to 
 him. But as twenty odd years passed away, 
 since that brother died — his name was I do not 
 know what, he died — I do not know where — it 
 sounds very incredible, that the whole account 
 is worth nothing. 
 
 Nat. Eh ! Daja ! "Wherefore is this so in- 
 credible ? Surely not, as it is here the case, in 
 order to believe a thing that is still more 
 incredible ? Why, could not Saladin, who 
 loves all his brothers and sisters, be especial 
 attached to one of them, when young, more 
 affectionately? Does it not happen that two 
 
18 NATHAN THE WISE. 
 
 faces resemble one another ? Is an old time 
 impression lost ? Does the same not work any 
 more the same % Since when ? Wherein lies 
 here the incredible thing? Ah, indeed, in- 
 genious Daja ! It would not be any wonder for 
 you any more, and only your wonder requi . . 
 . . . . deserve, I mean to say, full credit ! 
 
 Daja. You are mocking. 
 
 Nat. Because you rail at me. But, Recha, 
 even then, your deliverance remains still a 
 miracle that is only possible for Him who likes 
 to govern by the weakest threads, the firmest 
 resolutions and indomitable schemes of kings, 
 his play, if not his raillery. 
 
 Rech. My father ! My father, if I am mis- 
 taken, you know, I do not err on purpose. 
 
 Nat. You are rather quite ready to listen to 
 reason. Look here, a forehead so or so curved ; 
 the ridge of the nose so or so arched ; eye brows 
 coiling themselves so round a sharp edge or 
 flat bone ; a line, a flexure, an angle of an eye 
 or mouth, a wrinkle, a mole, a nothing upon 
 the face of a wild European — and you are 
 rescued from a fire in Asia ! Is that no miracle, 
 
NATHAN THE WISE. 19 
 
 you wonder-seeking people ? Why do you 
 trouble even an angel ? 
 
 Daja. Nathan, if I may speak, what harm 
 would it be in thinking of having been rather 
 saved by an angel than by a man ? Does not 
 one feel himself much nearer to the first incom- 
 prehensible cause of his deliverance ? 
 
 Nat. Pride ! and nothing but pride ! The 
 iron pot likes to be taken out of the fire with 
 silver pincers to think itself a pot of silver. 
 Pooh ! you ask and what harm does it ? What 
 harm it does ? What boots it ? may I ask you in 
 return ; — for your idea " to feel one's self much 
 nearer to God," is nonsense or blasphemy. — 
 But it is injurious, yes it is pernicious, indeed. — 
 Come, and listen to me. — Is it not so ? Do 
 not you wish both, and especially you, to 
 return many great services to the being that 
 saved your life, be it an angel or a man ? Is it 
 not so ? Now, what favors, nay, what great 
 services can you render to an angel ? You 
 may thank him, and sighing pray to him ; 
 you may be enchanted with him ; you can 
 fast on the day consecrated to him and 
 distribute alms. All this is nothing. Because 
 
20 NATHAN TEE WISE. 
 
 it seems to me, that you yourself and your 
 neighbor would gain by this far more than he. 
 He will not grow fat by your fasting, nor rich 
 by your charity, nor more magnificent by your 
 transport, and not mightier by your confidence. 
 Is it not so ? But a man — 
 
 Daja. Indeed ! A man would have given 
 us far more opportunity to perform something 
 for him. And God knows, that we were quite 
 ready to do so. But he did not want, yes, he 
 did not need anything at all. He was con- 
 tented in and with himself, as only angels are 
 and angels can be. 
 
 Rech. Finally as he then disappeared. . . 
 
 1ST at. Disappeared ? What do you mean by 
 that ? He was not to be seen anymore under 
 the palm-trees ? How ? Or did you already 
 search for him any where else ? 
 
 Daja. We did not 
 
 Nat. No ? You did not. Daja ? Now look 
 here, what harm that can do ! Cruel enthusiasts 
 If this angel fell now sick! 
 
 Rech. Sick! 
 
NATHAN THE WISE. 21 
 
 Daja. He is not sick, I hope. 
 
 Rech. What a cold tremor takes hold of 
 me ! — Daja, my forehead usually so warm, feel 
 it ! is suddenly like ice. 
 
 Nat. He is a Franconian, not acclimated ; 
 he is young, unaccustomed to the hard work 
 of his profession to privation and watching. 
 
 Rech. Sick ! sick ! 
 
 Daja. What may be possible, is Nathan 
 merely guessing. 
 
 Nat. Now there he lies, having neither a 
 friend nor money to engage attendants. 
 
 Eech. Ah, my father ! 
 
 Nat. There he is lingering without having 
 any nursing, advice and consolation, a prey to 
 pains and death ! 
 
 Eech. Where ? Where ? 
 
 Nat. He, enough it was a man, who rushed 
 into the fire for one he never knew nOr ever 
 saw 
 
 Daja. Nathan, act cautiously towards her. 
 
22 NATHAN THE WISE. 
 
 Nat. He, who did not like to get acquainted 
 with her nor to see her again, that she may not 
 thank him 
 
 Daja. Spare her, Nathan ! 
 
 Nat. He did not want to see her any more, 
 except he should rescue her a second time. — 
 For certainty it was a man. 
 
 Daja. Leave off speaking and look ! 
 
 Nat. Dying he has nothing to refresh him- 
 self but the consciousness of that deed ! 
 
 Daja. Stop ! you kill her ! 
 
 Nat. And you have killed him. Thus you 
 might have killed him. Eecha ! Kecha ! It is 
 medicine and not poison which I administer 
 you. He lives ! Come to yourself again ! He 
 is not sick, not sick at all. 
 
 Eech. Is it sure ? Not dead ? not sick ? 
 
 Nat. Certainly, not dead ! For God re- 
 wards still here the good that was performed 
 here. "Co ! But do you comprehend how much 
 easier it is to give one's self up to a devout flight 
 of imagination than to act good ? How the 
 
NATHAN THE WISE. 23 
 
 weakest man likes to fall into a pious enthu 
 siasm, although he is sometimes not clearly con- 
 scious of his aim — in order to be excused from- 
 doing good ! 
 
 Rech. Ah, my father! Leave, leave your 
 Eecha never all alone again ! Is it not so ? — 
 May he not be only out of town ? 
 
 ISTat. Go ! certainly ! — I see there a Mussul- 
 man inspecting with an inquisitive look the 
 laden camels. Do you know him ? 
 
 Daja. Your Dervise. 
 
 Nat. Who? 
 
 Daja. Your Dervise ! your chess partner ! 
 
 Nat. Al Hafi ? Is that Al Han ? 
 
 Daja. He is now the Sultan's treasurer. 
 
 Nat. How? Al Hafi? Are you dreaming 
 again ? It is he ! Indeed, it is he ! He is coming 
 up to us. Retire quick ! What shall I hear ? 
 
 Scene III. — Nathan and Dervise. 
 
 Derv. Fix your eyes on me as big as you 
 can. 
 
24 NATHAN THE WISH. 
 
 Nat. Is that you ? or is that not you ? — A 
 Dervise in such a pomp ! 
 
 Derv. Well? Why not? Can nothing be 
 made of a Dervie, nothing at all ? 
 
 Nat. Why, plenty !— But I thought always 
 that the Dervise, the true Dervise, does not 
 want to be made something. 
 
 Derv. By the Prophet! It may be true, 
 that I am not a faithful one. Yet, if one 
 must. . . 
 
 Nat. Must ! A Dervise must ? On no com- 
 pulsion must any man, and a Dervise must ? 
 Now, what must he ? 
 
 Derv. All that one asks him for, and he con- 
 siders it right, that must a Dervise. 
 
 Nat. By our God, there you speak the 
 truth. Man, let me embrace you. — You are 
 still my iriend, I hope. 
 
 Derv. Do you not ask me first what I be- 
 came ? 
 
 Nat. In spite of what you have been made ! 
 
 Derv. Could I not have become a fellow in 
 
NATHAN THE WISE. 25 
 
 the State whose friendship would not suit 
 you? 
 
 Nat.. If your heart is still Dervise I risk it 
 upon that. The fellow in the state is But your 
 garmeDt. 
 
 Dery. That wants also to be honored ; what 
 do you think am I at court ? Guess ? 
 
 Nat. Dervise and nothing else. But besides 
 probably cook. 
 
 Dery. Yes, indeed ! in order to forget my 
 profession by you. Why cook and not also 
 butler ? Acknowledge; that Salaclin knows me 
 much better. I became his treasurer. 
 
 Nat. You ? Treasurer to him ? 
 
 Dery. Understand : of the little treasury, 
 The larger one is managed by his father and I 
 have the control over the finances of his house* 
 
 Nat. His house is large. 
 
 Dery. And larger as you- may think ; for 
 every beggar belongs to his house. 
 
 Nat. Yet he hates beggars. 
 
26 NATHAN THE WISE. 
 
 Derv. He is therefore determined to extir- 
 pate them altogether! and even should he 
 become by that a beggar himself. 
 
 Nat. -"Well done ! Just so I like it. 
 
 Derv. He is a beggar already, notwithstand- 
 ing his riches ! For his treasury is every day at 
 sunset much emptier than empty. The flowing 
 of the tide may be ever so high in the morning, 
 it runs off again long before noon. 
 
 Nat. Because there are some channels de- 
 vouring it, which can neither be filled, nor is it 
 possible to stop them up. 
 
 Derv. Exactly. ! 
 
 Nat. I know that. 
 
 Derv. It is certainly not good, when princes 
 are vultures amidst carcasses ; but it is ten 
 times worse when they are carcasses amidst 
 vultures. 
 
 Nat. Nay, Dervise, nay ! 
 
 Derv. You speak quite at your ease, Sir ! — 
 Come on ! What will you give me, if I resign 
 my office to you ? 
 
NATHAN THE WISE. 27 
 
 Nat. What yields your office ? 
 
 Derv. Me? Not much. But it maybe very 
 profitable for you ; because if the finances are 
 at low water mark as they usually are — you 
 open your sluices, advance some money and 
 charge as much interest as you please. 
 
 Nat. Compound interest of interests ? 
 
 Derv. Certainly ! 
 
 Nat. Until my capital stock becomes all 
 interest. 
 
 Derv. Does not this attract you ? Write 
 forthwith a letter of divorce to our friendship ! 
 For indeed ! I reckoned very much upon you. 
 
 Nat. Indeed ? how so 1 
 
 J)erv. That you will assist me in discharging 
 my official duties honorably, that I will always 
 have the disposal of your chest. You shake 
 your head ? 
 
 Nat. Let us now have an understanding 
 about this. There is something to be disting- 
 uished. You? Why not you? The Dervise 
 Al Hafi is ever welcome to all that is in my 
 
28 NATHAN THE WISE. 
 
 power. But Al Hafi Deftendar of Saladin, 
 who, whom 
 
 Derv. Did I not guess it ? that you are 
 always as good as prudent and prudent as wise. 
 Patience ! The distinction you make in Hah 
 shall soon cease again. — Look here the robe of 
 honor which I have received of Saladin. Before 
 it is faded, and before it is worn out to rags 
 with which they clothe a Dervise, it shall hang 
 on the nail at Jerusalem, and I will be on the 
 Ganges where I shall tread with my teachers, 
 light and barefooted upon the burning sands. 
 
 Nat. That looks like you ! 
 
 Derv. And I will play chess with them. 
 
 Nat. Your greatest treasure ! 
 
 Derv. Consider only that which persuaded 
 me! — That I shall not need to go myself beg- 
 ging any longer ? that I be able of playing the 
 rich man amongst the poor ? To be capable of 
 changing in an instant the richest beggar into a 
 needy rich ? 
 
 Nat. Certainly, not that ! 
 
 Derv. A still greater absurdity! I felt 
 
NATHAN THE WISH. 29 
 
 myself flattered at the first time, flattered by the 
 good hearted delusion of Saladin. — 
 
 Nat. Which was ? 
 
 Derv. A beggar knows only in what dispo- 
 sition of mind beggars are ; a beggar only has 
 learned to give to the poor in a friendly man- 
 ner. Your predecessor, said he, was too cold 
 and too rough. He was so unkindly when he 
 gave something ; made first inquiries for the 
 recipient very impetuously; was never satisfied 
 that he knows the want, but he wished to 
 know also the cause of it, in order to weigh 
 niggardly the gift by this cause. Al Han will 
 not do so ! So illiberal liberal will Saladin not 
 appear in Hafi ! Al Hafi is not like ob- 
 structed water-pipes, that give back the waters 
 which they received clearly and quitely, so 
 gushing and impure. Al Hafi thinks, Al 
 Hafi feels like me ! — The fowler's fife sounded 
 so very sweet until the dunce was in the net — 
 What a fool I am ! A fool's fool ! 
 
 Nat. Be easy my Dervise, be easy ! 
 
 Derv. Ah, what ! Were it not foolishness to 
 
30 NATHAN THE WISE. 
 
 oppress, enervate, plunder, torture and slaugh- 
 ter men by hundred thousands, and yet to play 
 a philanthropist to a few ! Were it not fool- 
 ishness- to imitate the divine mercy of the Most 
 High, bestowing sunshine and rain without dis- 
 tinction upon good and wicked, field and desert, 
 yet not to have always the liberal hand of the 
 Most High ? What ? Is it not a mockery ? 
 
 Nat. Enough of that ! Stop ! 
 
 Derv. Let me only mention my foolishness - f 
 What? Were it not foolish to find out the 
 fairest side of a mockery, and to participate in 
 it on account of that ? ha ? Is it not so ? 
 
 Nat. Al Han make haste, that you come 
 into your wilderness again. I fear, that living 
 among men you would just forget to be a man. 
 
 Derv. Exactly. I fear it too. Farewell ! 
 
 Nat. What a hurry ? Stay, Al Han. Does 
 the wilderness run away from you ? Wait ! 
 that he might hear me ! Ho ! Al Hafi ! Here ! — 
 He is gone, and I liked to ask him about 
 the Templar. Probably he knows him very 
 well. 
 
NATHAN THE WISE, 31 
 
 Scene IV. — Daja enters hastily, Nathan. 
 
 Daja. Oh, Nathan, Nathan ! 
 
 Nat. What is the matter now ? 
 
 Daja. He let himself be seen again ! He 
 shows himself again ! 
 
 Nat. Who, Daja ? who ? 
 
 Daja. He ! He ! 
 
 Nat. He ? He ? — When does not he show 
 himself ? Well, yes ! Your he is called he. 
 This should not be ! And even if he were an 
 angel, no ! 
 
 Daja. He walks up and down under the 
 palm-trees, and is plucking dates from time to 
 time. 
 
 Nat. Does he eat them ? — and as a Templar ? 
 
 Daja. Why do you plague me ? Her cov- 
 etous eye detected him behind the close-wreathed 
 palm-tree, and is keeping him steadily in sight. 
 She desired me to ask you — to conjure you, to 
 accost him immediately. Oh, make haste ! She 
 
32 NATHAN THE WISE. 
 
 will motion you out of the window whether he 
 go es up or he turns farther off. Oh, be quick ! 
 
 Nat. Just so as I alighted from the camels ? 
 Does this become me ? Go ; but make des- 
 patch, and announce to him my return. You 
 will see, that this noble man did not want to . 
 enter my house merely during my absence, and 
 would not come now reluctantly, if the father 
 himself invite him. Go, tell him, that I invite 
 him, heartily invite 
 
 Daja. All in vain. He would not come. 
 For in short, he comes not to a Jew. 
 
 Nat. Well ! Go, go and detain him, or at 
 least fix your eyes upon him. — Go, I come right 
 after you. 
 
 Scene V. — Scenery : — A square planted with palm-trees, 
 under which the Templar is walking up and down. A Lay- 
 Brother follows him on the side at a little distance, as if he 
 would like to address him : 
 
 Temp. This man followed me not long ago. 
 Behold ! how he throws a sideling look at my 
 hands ! Dear brother.. .... I could also 
 
 call you father, is it not so ? 
 
NATHAN THE WISE.. 33 
 
 Lay B. Merely brother — lay-brother only, to 
 be at any service. 
 
 Temp. Yes, clear brother, if I had only some- 
 thing for myself! By God ! By God ! I have 
 nothing. — 
 
 Lay B. And nevertheless, I * give you my 
 heartfelt thanks ! God grant you a thousand 
 times as great all, that you would like to give 
 me. For the will and not the gift makes the 
 donor. Besides I was not sent after you on 
 account of receiving alms. 
 
 Temp. Yet are you sent after me ? 
 
 Lay B. Yes, I was from the convent. 
 
 Temp. Where I hoped to find but now a 
 little pilgrim's meal ? 
 
 Lay B. The tables were all occupied already; 
 but, sir, you will also return with me again. 
 
 Temp. To what purpose ? Indeed ! I have 
 not eaten any meat for a long time ; but what 
 do I care for ? The dates are now ripe. 
 
 Lay B. Sir, be careful in using this fruit. 
 It is not good to eat too much of it. It is an. 
 
 3 
 
34 NATHAN THE WISE. 
 
 obstruent to the spleen and produces melancholy 
 blood. 
 
 Temp. If I would like to become now mel- 
 ancholy ? Yet, you was sent after me to give 
 me this warning ? 
 
 Lay B. Oh, no ! I shall only inquire for you 
 and feel your pulse. 
 
 Temp. And you tell me that yourself ? 
 
 Lay. B. Why not? 
 
 Temp. (A shrewd brother.) Has your cloister 
 more the like ? 
 
 Lay B. I do not know. I must obey, dear 
 Sir. 
 
 Temp. And you obey without much cavil- 
 ling? 
 
 Lay B. Dear Sir ! Would it be otherwise 
 obedience ? 
 
 Temp. That simplicity proves itself always 
 in the right. You may communicate to me who 
 likes to know me thoroughly. I will swear to 
 it, that it is not yourself. 
 
NATHAN THE WISE. 35 
 
 Lay B. Is it becoming me ? And what 
 profit is it to me ? 
 
 Temp. Whom is it now becoming and whom 
 is it profiting to be so inquisitive ? Whom ? 
 
 Lay B. I must think the Patriarch ; for he 
 sent me after you. 
 
 Temp. The Patriarch ? Knows he not better 
 the red cross .upon the white cloak ? 
 
 Lay B. Even I know that.- 
 
 Temp. Well brother ? well ! — I am a Templar 
 and a prisoner. — I have to add, I was captured 
 near Tebnin, a castle which we tried to scale in 
 the last hour of truce, in order to attack the 
 city of Sidon, and now I must remark, that 
 twenty of us were made prisoners ; but I alone 
 was pardoned by Saladin. The Patriarch is 
 now informed of all, that he needs to know. 
 And still more than he needs. 
 
 Lay B. But hardly more than he knows 
 already. He likes to know why, sir, you have 
 been pardoned by Saladin, you all alone ? 
 
 Temp. Do I know it myself? — Having un- 
 covered my neck I knelt upon my cloak to 
 
36 NATHAN THE WISE. 
 
 receive the blow. But when Saladin fixed his 
 eyes closer upon me, he rushed towards me and 
 beckoned. They lifted me up. I am unshask- 
 eled. I will thank him, and I see his ejes 
 filled with tears. He is silent and so am I. He 
 is going and i remain. How all this is con- 
 nected the patriarch shall decipher to himself. 
 
 Lay B. He infers from this, that God has 
 reserved you for great, very great undertakings. 
 
 Temp. Great indeed! For saving a Jew's 
 girl from a house on fire, and leading inquisitive 
 pilgrims up the mount of Sinai, and the like. 
 
 Lay B. They will still come to pass ! In the 
 meanwhile this is not so bad. Perhaps has 
 the patriarch himself some more important 
 .affairs for you, sir ! 
 
 Temp. Indeed? Do you think so, brother? 
 Has he intimated you already something of 
 that ? 
 
 Lay B. Ay, certainly ! . But, sir, I shall first 
 sound you whether you are the man. 
 
 Temp. Well ! Search out my intentions ! 
 
NATHAN THE WISE. 37 
 
 (I will see how this man fathoms my breast.) 
 ISTow, sir ? 
 
 Lay B. The shortest way will be, that I tell 
 you freely the wish of the patriarch. 
 
 Temp. Weil! 
 
 Lay B. Sir ! He would like to despatch a 
 little letter by you. «- 
 
 Temp. By me ? I am not a messenger. Were 
 this a more glorious affair than to save a 
 Jewish girl from a house on fire ? 
 
 Lay B. It must be so ! For, says the 
 patriarch, this letter is of great importance to 
 all Christianity. For the right delivery of this 
 letter, says the patriarch, will God reward in 
 heaven with an especial ciown. And of this 
 crown, says the Patriarch, is nobody more- 
 worthy than you, sir ! 
 
 Temp. Than I ? 
 
 Lay B. For, says the patriarch, there is 
 hardly any one more qualified than you to gain 
 this crown. 
 
 Temp. Than I? 
 
38 NATHAN THE WISH. 
 
 Lay B. He, being free, can take a view here 
 of the town. He understands how to attack 
 and to protect a city. He can judge the best 
 of the strength and weakness of the inner 
 second wall which was built anew by Saladin, 
 and can describe it plainly to the warriors of 
 God, says the patriarch. 
 
 Temp. Dear brother ! If I could only know 
 the contents of the letter. 
 
 Lay B. That — that I do not know correctly. 
 The letter, is directed, however, to King Phillip. 
 The patriarch, ... I often wondered how a high 
 saint who lives usually in heaven altogether, 
 can condescend at the same time to become 
 acquainted with all the things in this world. 
 That must give him a great deal of bother and 
 worry. 
 
 Temp. Now then ? The patriarch ? — 
 
 Lay B. He knows very well and quite pos- 
 itively how and where, how strong and from 
 what direction Saladin will begin his cam- 
 paign in case that hostilities commence again. 
 
 Temp. Does he know that ? 
 
NATHAN THE WISE. 39 
 
 Lay B. Yes, he wished to inform King 
 Philip of all this, that he may be enabled to 
 judge, whether the danger be so great to com- 
 pel him to restore the truce with Saladin at 
 any cost, which your order has already so 
 •bravely broken. 
 
 Temp. What a patriarch ! yes, that's so ! 
 The dear brave man does not want me for a 
 ■common messenger ; he wants me — for a spy. 
 Dear bi other, tell your patriarch, as far as you 
 •got acquainted with my character, that is not 
 my affair. I must still consider myself as a 
 prisoner, and the only mission. of the Templar's 
 is to fight with the sword and not to play spy- 
 ism. 
 
 Lay B. I thought so. — I will not blame you 
 for that. — Yet the best part of the affair comes 
 now. The patriarch has also found out, how 
 the fort is called and where it is situated on the 
 mount of Lebanon, where an immense amount 
 of money is hoarded, and by which the pru- 
 dent father of the Saladin keeps the army, and 
 defrays the expenses of all military prepara- 
 tions for the war. Saladin repairs to the fort 
 upon solitary walks from time to time, and is 
 hardly accompanied. — Do you understand ? 
 
40 NATHAN THE WISE. 
 
 Temp. No, never. ~ 
 
 Lay B. What would be easier than to take 
 him prisoner, and — to despatch him ? You shud- 
 der ? Oh, a pious god fearing pair of Maronites 
 offered to venture it, if only a brave man would 
 lead them. 
 
 Temp. And the patriarch has designated me 
 for this brave man ? 
 
 Lay B. He thinks, that King Phillip can 
 offer the best aid to this from Ptolemais. 
 
 Temp. Me ? me, brother, me ? Did you not 
 hear or just now heard under what obliagations- 
 I am to Saladin ? 
 
 Lay B. Certainly, I did. 
 
 Temp. And nevertheless ? 
 
 Lay B. Yes, the patriarch thinks — this is all 
 right ; but God and the order .... 
 
 Temp. Don't alter anything ! They command, 
 no knavish action ! 
 
 Lay B. Surely not ! — But the patriarch thinks 
 a knavish action before man is not also a knav- 
 ish action before God. 
 
NATHAN THE WISE. 41 
 
 Temp. I am indebted to Saladin for my life 
 and I shall rob him of his life ? 
 
 Lay B. Fy! — But Saladin, the patriarch 
 thinks, remains always an enemy of Christen- 
 dom, and cannot gain the right to be your 
 friend. 
 
 Temp. Friend ? To whom I will not turn 
 a traitor, an ungrateful villain ? 
 
 Lay B. To be sure ! The patriarch thinks, 
 however, one is free from his obligation before 
 God and man, if the service rendered to us was 
 not done for our sake. And as it is said, — thinks 
 the patriarch — that Saladin pardoned you ; 
 because he noticed in your looks and manners 
 some resemblance of his brother. .... 
 
 Temp. Does the patriarch know also this, and 
 yet ? — Oh, were this certain ! Oh, Saladin ! — 
 How? Nature has only formed one trait of 
 me in the visage of your brother, and nothing* 
 shall correspond with it in my soul ? Could I 
 suppress all that answers this in order to please 
 a patriarch? — Nature does not lie in such a 
 way ! Does God contradict himself thus in his- 
 
42 NATHAN THE WISE. 
 
 works ? — Go, brother ! Do not provoke me to 
 anger ! — Go ! Go ! 
 
 Lay B. I go and depart more cheerfully 
 than I came. Sir, I beg your pardon. We 
 cloister-people are in duty bound to obey our 
 superior. 
 
 Scene VI. — Templar and Daja who watched him for a 
 while at a distance, is approaching him. 
 
 Daja. It seems to me, that the lay-brother 
 •did not leave him in the very best humor. But 
 I must try to do my errand. 
 
 Temp. That is capital ! — Does the proverb lie 
 that monk and woman and woman and monk 
 are devil's claws ? He is throwing me to-day 
 from one into the other. 
 
 Daja. What do I see ? You, noble knight ? 
 Thank God ! Thousand thanks be to God ! 
 Where have you been all the time ? You have 
 not been sick, I hope ? 
 
 Temp. No ! 
 
 Daja. You have been well ? 
 
NATHAN THE WISE. 48 
 
 Temp. Yes. 
 
 Daja. Indeed ! We have been very anxious 
 about you. 
 
 Temp. So? 
 
 Daja. You have surely been travelling. 
 
 Temp. You hit it right. 
 
 Daja. And returned just to-day ? 
 
 Temp. No, yesterday ! 
 
 Daja. Recha's father arrived also to-day, and 
 now Recha may hope. 
 
 Temp. For what ? 
 
 Daja. For that she had so often requested 
 you. Her father will also invite you instantly. 
 He came from Babylon with twenty laden 
 camels carrying the most valuable of fine spices, 
 precious stones, and stuffs that can be found in 
 India, Persia, Syria, and even in Sina. 
 
 Temp. I shall buy nothing. 
 
 Daja. His people honor him like a prince. 
 But I wondered often at their calling him the 
 wise and not rather the rich Nathan, 
 
44 NATHAN THE WISE. 
 
 Temp. To his people, perhaps, rich and wise 
 is the same. 
 
 Daja. But above all they should call him 
 the good ; for jow. have no idea, how good he 
 is. When he learned how much. - Recha is in- 
 debted to you, what would not he have done 
 all for you, and given to you in that moment ! 
 
 Temp. Ah! 
 
 Daja. Try him ! come and see ! 
 
 Temp. What ? How quickly is one moment 
 passed ? 
 
 Daja. Would I have been pleased to stay 
 so long with him, had not he been good ? Do 
 you think I am not impressed with the value of 
 being a Christian ? I have never dreamt of 
 such a thing, that I shall therefore follow my 
 husband to Palestine, in order to educate there 
 a Jewish girl. My clear husband was a noble 
 squire in the army of the Emperor Frederic — 
 
 Temp. A native of Switzerland, who had the 
 honor and favor to be drowned with the Im- 
 perial Majesty in the same river. — Woman 1 
 
NATHAN THE WISE. 45 
 
 How many times did you tell me that ? Do not 
 yon cease to pursue me ? 
 
 Daja. Pursue, good God ! 
 
 Temp. Yes, yes, pursue. I do not want to 
 see nor to hear of you any more ! I will not 
 be reminded always of a deed I did without 
 any reflection, and when I am thinking upon it, 
 it becomes an enigma to me. Indeed, I would 
 not like to regret it. But look here, would 
 such an accident happen again, you are the 
 cause if I do not act so promptly, and if I 
 would first inquire, and let burn, what is on 
 fire. 
 
 Daja. God forbid ! 
 
 Temp. Do me at least the favor not to know 
 me any more from now. I entreat this of you. 
 Let me also not be troubled with her father. 
 A Jew is a Jew. I am a simple Swabian. The 
 girl's image vanished from my soul long ago, if 
 it ever was there. 
 
 Daja. But your's is not gone from her's. 
 
 Temp. And to what purpose shall it be there ? 
 What good of it? 
 
46 NATHAN THE WISE. 
 
 Daja. Who can tell. Men are not always 
 as they appear to be. 
 
 Temp. But seldom something better. (Exit.) 
 Daja. Wait ! What is your hnrry ? 
 
 Temp. (When walking off) Woman ! Do not 
 render the palm-trees odious to me, under which. 
 I usually like to walk. 
 
 Daja. G-o then, you German bear !^ Well 
 go ! And nevertheless I must not lose scent of 
 the beast. 
 
 (She follows him at a distance.) 
 
NATHAN THE WISE. 4T 
 
 ACT II. 
 
 Scene 1. — Scenery — Private apartments in the Sultan's pal- 
 ace. — Saladin and Sittah playing a game of chess. 
 
 Sit. Where are you, Saladin ? how do you 
 play to-day ? 
 
 Sal. Not well ? But I should think I do. 
 
 Sit. For me ; and hardly so. Put it in the 
 same square again. 
 
 Sal. Why so ? 
 
 Sit. The Knight is unguarded. 
 
 Sal. That is really so. Well then I 
 
 Sit. Then shall I go to forks ?— 
 
 Sal. True again. — Then check ! 
 
 Sit. What shall you get by it? I put a 
 piece before, and you are in no better situa- 
 tion. 
 
48 NATHAN THE WISE. 
 
 Sal. I perceive very well, it is impossible to 
 come out of this embarrassment without pen- 
 alty. Well, let it be so ! Take my knight. 
 
 Sit. I want him not, I pass. 
 
 Sal. You do not give me anything. You 
 care more for this place than for the knight. 
 
 Sit. May be so. 
 
 Sal. Eeckon not, however, without your lost; 
 for look here, I lay a bet, you did not imagine 
 it? 
 
 Sit. Certainly not. How could I expect, that 
 you are tired of your queen ? 
 
 Sal. I of my queen ? 
 
 Sit. I see now, I shall win to-day my 
 thousand Dinarians and not a Nasaras more. 
 
 Sal. How so ? 
 
 Sit. Do not question it ! — Because you are 
 constant in your exertion to lose the game. 
 But this is of no use to me ; for besides that, 
 such a play is not very amusing. Did. not I 
 win always the most from you, when I have 
 lost? When after having lost my game did 
 
NATHAN THE WISE. 49 
 
 not you give me back a double stake to com- 
 fort me ? 
 
 Sal. Ah! Look here, dear sister ! Have you 
 purposely lost, whenever you did ? 
 
 Sit. Your generosity at least, my dear 
 brother, may be the cause, that I did not learn 
 to play better. 
 
 Sal. We deviate from our play. Finish it ! 
 Sit. Does it remain so ? Well then ! Check ! 
 and double check ! 
 
 Sal. Indeed ! I did not see this double 
 check, that my queen throws me down at the 
 same time. 
 
 Sit. Can it be changed for the better ? Let 
 me see. 
 
 Sal. No, no ; take the queen. I was never 
 lucky with this piece. 
 
 Sit. Only with this ? 
 
 Sal. Away with it ! — This does not harm 
 me ; for all is guarded again. 
 
 Sit. My brother taught me too well how 
 courteous one must be to the Queen. 
 
 (She lets her stand.) 4 
 
50 NATHAN THE WISE. 
 
 Sal. Take her or not ! I have none any more - 
 
 Sit. To what purpose shall I take her ? 
 check ! — check ! 
 
 Sal. Go ahead ! 
 
 Sit. Check S — and check — and check ! 
 
 Sal. And mate ! 
 
 Sit. Not quite. You may move the knight 
 between them, or whatever you may do, it is all 
 the same to me ! 
 
 Sal. All right! — You have won, and Al 
 Hafi shall pay you. Let Al Han be sent for 
 immediately. You were not so very wrong y 
 that my thoughts were not at the play. I was 
 inattentive. And then who gives us always 
 the plain pieces which do not remind us of any- 
 thing nor signify something ? Did I play with 
 the Iman ? But what ? Loss wants a pretext, 
 Sittah, not the unformed pieces made me lose 
 but your ingenuity, your considerate and rapid 
 survey. . . . 
 
 Sit. Thus you will blunt the prick of the 
 loss. Enough, you were subject to an absence 
 of mind more than I. 
 
NATHAN THE WISE. 51 
 
 Sal. Than- you ? What could have dis- 
 tracted your mind ? 
 
 Sit. Your inattention surely not ! Oh, Sala- 
 din! When shall we play so steady ag ain? 
 
 Sal. We shall play then the more eagerly ! 
 Ah ! Because there will be war again, you 
 mean? Well, be it so ! On ! On ! I did 
 not begin. I would have gladly extended 
 the truce anew, and I would have very gladly 
 given my Sittah a good husband too. And 
 that must be Richard's brother. Yes, he is 
 Eichard's brother. 
 
 Sit. When you can only praise up your 
 Richard ! 
 
 Sal. If Richard's sister had married then 
 our brother Melek, ah, what a house! Ah, 
 it would have been the best of the first and 
 best houses in the world ! You hear now, that 
 I am not lazy in praising also myself. I con- 
 . sider myself worthy of my friends. From such 
 a house would have descended men. 
 
 Sit. Did not I laugh instantly at the beau- 
 tiful dream ? You do not know, and you 
 will not know the Christians. Their pride is 
 
52 NATHAN THE WISE. 
 
 to be Christians, not men. For even that, which 
 seasons superstition with humanity as estab 
 lished by their founder, they love, not because 
 it is humane ; but because Christ taught it ; 
 because Christ practised it. Happy for them, 
 that he was such a good man ! Happy for 
 them that they do believe his virtue on the 
 word ! — But what virtue ? Not his virtue, but 
 his name shall be promulgated everywhere, 
 shall degrade the names of all good men, and 
 devour them. They have nothing in view but 
 their name, their name. 
 
 Sal. Why else do you think, should they de- 
 mand, that you and Melek shall be called Chris- 
 tians before you can love a Christian consort ? 
 
 Sit. Yes, indeed ! As if we had to expect 
 love only from Christians, as Christians, with 
 which the Creator endowed man and wife. 
 
 Sal. The Christians believ-e in more paltry 
 things as that they should not believe also in 
 this. And yet you are mistaken. The Temp- 
 lars and not the Christians are to blame, and 
 they are not to blame as Christians, but as 
 Templars. On account of them alone the whole 
 
NATHAN THE WISE. 53 
 
 affair will come to nothing. They will not 
 positively give up Acca, of which a dower has 
 to be made by Kichard's sister to our brother 
 Melek. That the advantage of the Knight 
 shall not be in hazard, they play the monk, the 
 foolish monk. And that perhaps they would 
 succeed, if they make a good movement in a 
 hurry, they could hardly await the time when 
 the term of truce expires. Let us be merry ! 
 Come on ! you gentlemen ! Come on ! I con- 
 sent to every thing ! If besides this all would 
 only be as it must. 
 
 Sit. Now, what else is it that could alarm 
 you ? What else could unsettle your mind ? 
 
 Sal. All that ever put me out of counten- 
 tenance. I was by our father at Libanon. He 
 will succumb under anxiety 
 
 Sit. Oh, dear ! 
 
 Sal. He cannot get through. He is in great 
 straits, and it is wanting here and there 
 
 Sit. What is the difficulty ? What is want- 
 ing? 
 
 Sal. What else but which I do not con- 
 
54 NATHAN THE WISE. 
 
 sider worthy of mentioning ? It is that which 
 seems to me superfluous when I have it ; but 
 when not, highly necessary. Where is Al Hafi ? 
 Was not any body sent for him ? This baleful 
 accursed money ! — It is well, Hafi, that you are 
 coming. 
 
 Scene II — Dervise Al Hafi, Saladin and Sittah. 
 
 Al H. The money from Egypt has probably 
 arrived. I wish it would be only a great deal. 
 
 Sal. Have .you intelligence of it ? 
 
 Al H. I have not. I think, I shall receive 
 it here. 
 
 Sal. Pay Sittah one thousand Dinars. 
 
 (Walking thoughtfully up and down.) 
 
 Al H. Pay instead of receive ! Oh, that's 
 beautiful! That is for something much less 
 than nothing. Pay to Sittah ? And again to 
 Sittah ? And lost ? Lost again at chess ? 
 There stands yet the game ! 
 
 ; Sit. Do you grudge me my good fortune ? 
 
NATHAN THE WISE. 55 
 
 Al H. (examining the game) What, grudge ? 
 —If — You know it very well. 
 
 Sit. (motioning to him.) Hush, Han, hush ! 
 
 Al H. (still considering the game.) First be 
 pleased with it yourself ! 
 
 Sit. Al Han, hush ! 
 
 Al H. (to Sittah.) The white ones were 
 yours. Did you give check ? 
 
 Sit. It is well, that he heard nothing. 
 
 Al H. Is it not his turn to move ? 
 
 Sit. (approaching him.) Say then, that I can 
 i-eceive my money. 
 
 Al H. (his eyes still fixed upon the game.) 
 Well, yes, you shall receive it as you always 
 did. 
 
 Sit. How ? Are you crazy ? 
 
 Al. H. The game is not yet played out- 
 You have not lost, Saladin. 
 
 Sal. (hardly listening.) Nevertheless! Nev- 
 ertheless ! Pay ! pay ! 
 
56 NATHAN THE WISH. 
 
 Al H. Pay ! Pay ! yes, there stands your 
 queen. 
 
 Sal. (still so.) That does not count, belongs 
 not any more to the play ! 
 
 Sit. Well, say, that I may send for the 
 money. 
 
 Al H. (still in deep musing on the game.) 
 Of course, as usual. Although the queen does 
 not count anything ; you are, nevertheless, not 
 checkmated. 
 
 Sal. (going nearer and overturns the game.) 
 I am. and will be so. 
 
 Al. H. Well so ! Winning is like the game I 
 As it was won, so will it be paid. 
 
 Sal. (to Sittah.) What says he ? what? 
 
 Sit. (motioning to Hafi from time to time.) 
 You know him well. He likes to bristle up • 
 looks for entreaty, is sometimes a little jealous. 
 
 Al H. May be ! May be ! — I had rather 
 myself her wits. Were rather myself as good 
 as she. 
 
 Sit. He paid, however, always promptly, and 
 
NATHAN THE WISE. 5T 
 
 will do so to-day. Let him alone ! Go, Al 
 Hafi, go. I will take care to send for the- 
 money. 
 
 Al H. I will not join in this mummery any 
 longer. He must be apprized of it. 
 
 Sal. Who ? and what ? 
 
 Sit. Al Hafi, is this your promise ? Do you 
 keep so your word ? 
 
 Al H. How could I imagine, that you would 
 let it come as far as that ? 
 
 Sal. Well ? Do you not let me know any 
 thing of it ? 
 
 Sit.. I pray, Al Hafi, be discreet. 
 
 Sal. That is curious ! What can Sittah beg 
 so ardently and solemnly of a stranger, of a 
 Dervise to be excused from doing it rather than 
 of me, her affectionate brother ? Al Hafi, I 
 command you now. Speak, Dervise ! 
 
 Sit. Dear brother, let a trifle not affect you 
 more than it is worth. You know, I won of 
 you the same sum in chess several times. And 
 as I do not need the money at present, and as it 
 
.38 NATHAN THE WISH. 
 
 is not so plenty in Han's treasury, the items 
 may remain there. But do not be afraid! I 
 will neither make a present with them to you, 
 my dear brother, nor to Han, nor to the trea- 
 sury. 
 
 Al H. Yes, if it would be only that ! that ! 
 
 Sit. And more too. The annuity you settled 
 •once on me, remained also there since a few 
 months. 
 
 Al H. This is not all. 
 
 Sal. Not all ?— Will you tell ? 
 
 Al H. Since we expect the money from 
 Egypt has she 
 
 Sit. (to Saladin.) Why do you hear him ? 
 
 Al H. Not only received nothing. . . . 
 
 Sal. Good girl ! Even advanced me some 
 money besides. Is it not so ? 
 
 Al H. Supported the whole court ; supplied 
 all alone your sumptuousness. 
 
 Sal. Ah ! this, this is my sister ! (embracing 
 tier.) 
 
NATHAN THE WISH. 59 
 
 Sit. My brother, who would have made uie 
 so rich as you did in order to be able to do 
 this? 
 
 Al H. Will soon make you as beggarly as 
 he is himself. 
 
 Sal. I poor ? the brother poor ? When had 
 I more ? when less ? One coat, one sword, one 
 horse and one Grod ! What need I more ? 
 When can I be wanting of them ? And yet I 
 could scold at you. 
 
 Sit. Do not, my brother ! Could I but re- 
 lieve so our father from his sorrows ! — 
 
 Sal. Oh ! Oh ! You have now cast down at 
 once my alacrity again. I, for myself, am not 
 and cannot be in want of anything. But he, 
 he is wanting, and with him we all. — Say, what 
 shall I do ? It may be, it will not come from 
 Egypt for a long time ! Grod knows where it 
 sticks. It is still there — every thing in order, 
 I will consent now to allow some abatement, 
 retrench much the expenses, and to spare all 
 that concerns myself. If only I and nobody 
 else would suffer in it. — But what would this 
 amount to ? One horse, one coat and one 
 
60 NATHAN THE WISE. 
 
 sword I must have after all, and my God cannot 
 be beaten down of anything. He is already 
 satisfied with little enough ; with my heart. I 
 have reckoned very much upon the surplus in 
 your treasury, Al Han ! 
 
 Al H. Surplus ? Say yourself, whether you 
 would not let me be empaled, or at least 
 strangled, if you had found me to have any 
 surplus. I could rather venture to be guilty of 
 embezzlement. 
 
 Sal. Well, but what shall be done ? Could 
 not you borrow from any one else but from 
 Sittah ? 
 
 Sit. Brother, had I allowed to him to de- 
 prive me of this prerogative ? Me by him ? 
 Even now I insist upon. I am not yet drained 
 altogether. 
 
 Sal. Not altogether ! That would be aw- 
 ful ! — Han, go immediately, make arrangements 
 for borrowing money from whom you can, and 
 in any manner you can ! Go, borrow, promise ! 
 But, Hafi, do not borrow from those, whom I 
 have made rich. For borrowing from these 
 might be called demanding my gifts back again. 
 
NATHAN THE WISE. 61 
 
 Go, to the greatest misers ; for they would 
 like it best to lend me ; because they would 
 know very well, that their money will be dis- 
 played in my hands to the best advantage. 
 
 Al H. I do not know any of them. 
 
 Sit. Hafi ! Just now I recollect of having 
 heard, that your friend returned home. 
 
 Al H. (perplexed.) Friend? My friend? 
 Who is this ? 
 
 Sit. Your highly praised Jew. 
 
 Al H. A highly praised Jew ? and by me? 
 
 Sit. Whom God — I remember very well the 
 expression you once used concerning him — 
 whom God has given in a high degree the 
 greatest and smallest of all earthly treasures. 
 
 Al H. Did I say so? What did I mean 
 by it ? 
 
 Sit. The smallest : wealth, and the greatest : 
 wisdom. 
 
 Al H. How? of a Jew ? Did I say so res- 
 pecting a Jew ? 
 
62 NATHAN THE WISE. 
 
 Sit. Did you not say so of your Nathan ? 
 
 AlH. Oh, yes! Of him! of Nathan! I did 
 not think of him at all. — Indeed ? Has he 
 finally returned home ? Eh, it may not stand 
 so very badly with him. True, they called him 
 once the wise and also the rich. 
 
 Sit. Now they call him the rich more than 
 ever. The whole city rings with the report 
 what valuable things and treasures he brought 
 along with him. 
 
 Al H. Being now the rich again, he will 
 also be the wise again. 
 
 Sit. "What do you think, Hafi, if you would 
 apply to him ? 
 
 Al. H. What will you have me ask of him ? 
 for money ? There you know him. — He shall 
 trust ! That is just his wisdom, that he trusts 
 nobody. 
 
 Sit. You have portrayed to me his character 
 quite otherwise at another time. 
 
 Al H. In case of need he will lend you some 
 merchandise ; but money, money ? money never. 
 
NATHAN THE WISH. 63 
 
 Besides he is certainly a Jew as there are- 
 not many Jews. . He has pluck ; he knows life 
 and plays chess very well. But he distinguishes 
 himself above all the other Jews in evil as well 
 as in good. Do not reckon upon him. - He 
 gives to -the poor, and perhaps as well as 
 Saladin. If not quite as much, yet even so 
 heartily, and even so without distinction, Jew 
 and Christian, and Mussulman and Parsee, 
 is all the same to him. 
 
 Sit. And such a man 
 
 Sal. How does it come that I never heard 
 of that man ? 
 
 Sit. Should he not lend Saladin ? Not 
 Saladin who needs it only for others and not 
 for himself ? 
 
 Al H. There the Jew shows himself again, 
 the very common Jew ! Believe me sir ! So 
 envious he is of giving charity, so jealous is he, 
 that he likes to monopolize the thanks given : 
 " God reward you for it," whenever it is said in 
 this world. Therefore he does not lend any 
 body, that he shall always be able to give 
 And as charity and not courtesy is commanded 
 
«4 NATHAN THE WISE. 
 
 to him in the holy law, liberality causes him to 
 be the most disobliging fellow in the world. 
 Though for a long time I am at variance with 
 him; think not therefore I would not do him 
 justice. He is fit for anything, but not for that ; 
 certainly, not for that. I will go immediately 
 and knock at other doors. I recollect jast of a 
 Moor who being rich and avaricious. — I go, 
 I go. 
 
 Sit. What is your hurry, Han ? 
 
 Sal. Let him alone ! Let him go ! 
 
 Scene III. — Sittah — Saladin. 
 
 Sit. He hasted away as if he would like to 
 get out of rny sight ! What means it ? Was 
 he deceived in him or does he wish to de- 
 ceive us? 
 
 Sal. How ? You ask me that ? I hardly 
 know of whom you were speaking. I hear of 
 your Jew, your Nathan the first time to-day. 
 
 Sit. Is it possible, that a man remained 
 hidden from you of whom they say, he explored 
 
NATHAN THE WISE. 65 
 
 the sepulchres of David and Solomon, and by 
 a powerful magic word understands to open 
 their seals ? From there he brings then to 
 light from time to time an immense wealth 
 which betrays no smaller source. 
 
 Sal. If this man has obtained his riches 
 from sepulchres, then these are surely not the 
 graves of Solomon and David. Fools were 
 buried there. 
 
 Sit. Or miscreants ! — His source of wealth 
 is by far richer and more inexhaustible than 
 such a grave full of mammon. 
 
 Sal. For he is a merchant, as I understand. 
 
 Sit. His sumpter mule is urged upon all 
 highways through all the deserts. His vessels 
 lie at anchor in all ports. This Al Hah* told 
 me himself, adding rapturously, how good and 
 noble this his friend, uses all that he does not 
 consider too mean to gain so sagaciously and 
 so diligently, remarking how free his spirit is 
 from all prejudices, his heart open to every 
 virtue, and how it agrees with every beauty. 
 
 Sal. But Hafi spoke of him now so doubt- 
 fully and indifferently. 
 
 5 
 
66 NATHAN THE WISE. 
 
 Sit. Indeed ! not indifferently ! He was 
 embarrassed. He thought it dangerous to 
 praise him, and yet he would not find fault 
 with his conduct undeservedly. How ? or is 
 it indeed so, that even the best of his people 
 cannot escape the infirmities of his nation 
 altogether ? That Al Hafi ought certainly to 
 be ashamed about this side of his friend ? Be 
 it as it may ! — The Jew be more or less so. He 
 being rich and a Jew, that is enough for us. 
 
 Sal. Yet you would not take his own by 
 force, sister ? 
 
 Sit. Well, what do you call by force ? Fire 
 and sword ? No ! no ! What needs any force 
 against the weak, but their own weakness ? 
 Come now with me in my harem to hear a song- 
 stress that I bought but yesterday. In the 
 meantime, perhaps a plan will ripen in me which 
 I will practise on Nathan. — Come ! 
 
NATHAN THE WISE. 67 
 
 Scene IV. — Scenery : — Before the house of Nathan, which 
 
 $ta?ids near the palm trees. — Recha and Nathan coming out. — 
 
 To them, Daja. 
 
 Kech. You have tarried too long, my father, 
 He is hardly to be met with anymore. 
 
 Nat. Well, well ! If not here, here under 
 the palm-trees anymore, yet somewhere else. 
 Be only easy now ! See there ! Is that not Daja 
 approaching us ? 
 
 Kech. She has surely lost him. 
 
 Nat. I do not think so. 
 
 Eech. Else she would walk a little faster. 
 
 Nat. She has probably not seen us yet. . . 
 
 Eech. Now she sees us. 
 
 Nat. And she approaches with double quick 
 steps. See ! — Be only tranquil ! tranquil ! 
 
 Rech. Would you want a daughter that 
 remains here tranquil ? Being unconcerned for 
 one whose charitable gift is her life ? A life 
 that is only so dear to her ; because she is 
 owing it to you first. 
 
 Nat. I might not have you otherwise than. 
 
68 NATHAN THE WISE. 
 
 you are, even if I would know, that some other 
 thing is stirred up within your soul. 
 
 Rech. What my father ? 
 
 Nat. You ask me ? Ask me so timidly ? 
 What ever is going on in your heart is nature 
 and innocence. Be not alarmed about that. 
 It does not trouble me. But promise me, if 
 your heart should once explain itself louder, 
 that you will not conceal from me any one of 
 its desires. 
 
 Rech. The idea of the possibility to disguise 
 my heart before you makes me tremble. 
 
 Nat. Speak not anymore of it ! It is done 
 once for all ! — There is Daja. — Well ? 
 
 Daja. He is still walking under the palm- 
 trees. He will come directly around that walL 
 — See, here he comes. 
 
 Rech. Ah! He seems to be undecided 
 whither ? Whether to go on or back, to right 
 or left? 
 
 Daja. No, no ! He will surely go still fre- 
 quently around the cloister and then he has to 
 pass by here. — How much will you bet ? 
 
NATHAN THE WISE. 69 
 
 Eech. All right ! all right ! — Have you spoken 
 with him already ? And how is he to-day ? 
 
 Daja. As usual. 
 
 Nat. Take heed, that he may not perceive 
 you here. Step further back. Gro rather in 
 entirely. 
 
 Eech. But one glimpse more ! Ah, the 
 hedge is robbing me of him ! 
 
 Daja. Come ! Come ! Papa is perfectly 
 right. You run the risk, that if he sees you, 
 he will turn back on the spot. 
 
 Rech. Ah, the hedge ! 
 
 Nat. And if he comes suddenly out of the 
 hedge there, he cannot otherwise but surely see 
 you. Therefore step back ! 
 
 Daja. Come ! Come ! I know a window, 
 where we can observe them. 
 
 Rech. Yes ? (both going into the house.) 
 
 .Scene V. — Nathan and soon after him the Templar,. 
 
 ISTat. I am nearly afraid of this eccentric 
 
10 NATHAN THE WISE. 
 
 man. His harsh virtue almost startles me- 
 That one man should be able to perplex thus? 
 his fellow man ! — Well ! Here ! He comes. — 
 By God ! A youth like a man. I like this 
 good, bold look, this noble walk. The shell 
 only can be bitter ; but the kernel surely now 
 — Where did I see the like ? — Excuse me, 
 noble Frank 
 
 Temp. What? 
 
 Nat. Permit me 
 
 Temp. What, Jew ? what ? 
 
 Nat. That I venture to address you. 
 
 Temp. Can I hinder it ? But be short. 
 
 Nat. Excuse me, do not hasten by so proudly 
 and so disdainfully, a man whom you havo 
 obliged to you forever. 
 
 Temp. How so ? Oh, I almost guess it now.. 
 Is it not so ? You are 
 
 Nat. My name is Nathan. I am the father 
 of the girl whom your magnanimity saved from 
 the fire, and I am coming 
 
 Temp. If it is to thank me, spare your words I 
 
NATHAN THE WISH. 71 
 
 I had already to sustain too much thanks for 
 such a trifle. — Especially you, you are not at all 
 under any obligations to me. Did I know then, 
 that the girl was your daughter ? It is the 
 duty of the Templars to succor the first the 
 best whom they see in distress. Besides this 
 my life was very burdensome to me in that 
 moment. I took gladly, very gladly the oppor- 
 tunity to risk it for another life — even if it were 
 only the life of a Jewess. 
 
 Nat. Great ! great and abominable. But 
 your motive can be imagined ! The modest 
 greatness shelter itself behind abhorrence to 
 avoid admiration. But if it despises so the 
 sacrifice of admiration, what sacrifice would it 
 less despise ? Knight, were you not a strauger 
 and a prisoner here, I would not ask you so 
 boldly. Say, command in what can I serve 
 you? 
 
 Temp. You ? In nothing. 
 
 Nat. I am a rich man. 
 
 Temp. I never considered the richer Jew the 
 better. 
 
 Nat. Dare you therefore not use the better 
 
n NATHAN THE WISE. 
 
 he is possessed of? Dare you not derive any 
 advantage from his wealth ? 
 
 Temp. Well, I will not refuse that entirely ; 
 not on account of my cloak. When this will 
 be worn out so that neither stitch nor a patch 
 hold any longer, I will come and borrow from 
 you cloth or money for a new one. Look not 
 at once so gloomy. You may feel secure ! It 
 has not yet come so far as that with it. You 
 see, it is still in a tolerable good condition. 
 This corner only has there a soiled spot ; it is 
 singed. And it became so when I carried your 
 daughter through the fire. 
 
 Nat. (taking hold of the corner of the cloak 
 and looking at it.) It is strange, however, that 
 such a spot, such a burning mark bear a more 
 favorable testimony to this man than his own 
 mouth. I like to kiss the spot at once ! Oh, 
 excuse, I did not do it intentionally ! 
 
 Temp. What? 
 
 Nat. I dropped a tear upon it. 
 
 Temp. No matter ! It has more of such drops. 
 (But this Jew begins to confound me now.) 
 
NATHAN THE WISE. 73 
 
 Nat. Will you be so kind as to send this 
 cloak to my daughter ? 
 
 Temp. To what purpose ? 
 
 Nat. To press her mouth upon this spot 
 also ; because she is wishing in vain to embrace 
 your knees themselves. 
 
 Temp. But, Jew — you are called Nathan? 
 But Nathan — you compose your words very 
 good — very pointed — I am perplexed. — Cer- 
 tainly, I had 
 
 Nat. You may be pretending and dissemb- 
 ling as much as you want, I find you out here 
 also. You were too good, too brave in order 
 to be more polite. The girl all sensation ; the 
 female messenger all officiousness ; the father far 
 awaj from home. — You watched over her good 
 name, spared her the trial, and you have fled 
 not to conquer. For that I thank you also. — 
 
 Temp. I must acknowledge, you know how 
 Templars ought to think. 
 
 Nat. Only Templars ? They merely ought ? 
 And this is because the rules of the order 
 
74 NATHAN THE WISE. 
 
 demand it so ? I know how good men think, 
 know, that all countries contain good men. 
 
 Temp. With some difference, I hope. 
 
 Nat. To be sure ! They differ in regard to 
 color, clothes and form. 
 
 Temp. And as to this, sometimes more and 
 sometimes less here than there. 
 
 Nat. That difference is not worth much. 
 The great man needs everywhere much soil. 
 And several, too near planted, shatter each other 
 like trees, their branches. ' Middling people*' 
 like we. are, we find everywhere in great num- 
 bers. But the one must not find fault with the 
 other, and the knot must learn to tolerate the 
 snag. The little peak must not boast, that it 
 were the only one which sprung not from earth. 
 
 Temp. It is very well said. — But do you 
 know the people, that made the first censure on 
 human nature ? Do you know Nathan, what 
 people were the first that called themselves the 
 chosen people ? How, although I do not hate 
 these people, if I could, nevertheless, not for- 
 bear despising them, on account of their pride 
 which they bequeathed to Mussulman and 
 
NATHAN THE WISH. 7.5, 
 
 Christian that only their God must be the 
 true God ? You are startled at my speaking 
 so as a Christian and a Templar ? When and 
 where did the pious madness of having the 
 better God and of pressing him as best upon 
 the whole world show itself more in the dark- 
 est form than it does at present here? He, 
 whom here and now the bandage does not fall 
 from his eyes, .... But be blind, who 
 will ! — Forget what I said, and let me alone. 
 (Being about to go.) 
 
 Nat, You do not know, how much stronger I 
 am attached to you. Come, we must, must be 
 friends ! Despise my people as much as you 
 please. Neither of us both has chosen his 
 people. Are we our people ? What does the 
 word people mean ? Are Christian and Jew 
 rather Christian and Jew than they were 
 men? Oh, may I have found in you another 
 who is satisfied to be called a man ! 
 
 Temp. Yes, by God ! this you have Nathan ! 
 This you have! — Your hand ! — I am ashamed 
 of having mistaken you for a moment. 
 
 Nat. I am proud of it ! They mistake only 
 the mean very seldom ! 
 
76 NATHAN THE WISE. 
 
 Temp. And the uncommon is hardly forgot- 
 ten. — Yes, Nathan! we must, must become 
 friends. 
 
 Nat. We are this already. — How will my 
 Recha rejoice! Ah, what a cheerful future 
 opens befere my eyes ! — Know her only 1 
 
 Temp. I am inflamed with desire. — Who is 
 rushing there out of your house ? Is it not her, 
 Daja? 
 
 Nat. Indeed ! But why so anxiously ? 
 
 Temp. Nothing befell our Recha, I hope? 
 
 Scene VI. — The Former. — Daja in haste. 
 
 Daja. Nathan ! Nathan ! 
 
 Nat. What? 
 
 Daja. Excuse noble Knight, that I must in- 
 terrupt you. 
 
 • Nat. Well, what is it? 
 
 Daja. The Sultan has sent for you. The 
 Sultan wants to see you, Grod ! The Sultan. 
 
NATHAN THE WISE. IT 
 
 Nat. Me ? The Sultan ? He probably desires 
 to see what new goods I have brought. Tell 
 that little or nothing at all has been yet un- 
 pacKed. 
 
 Daja. No, no ; he will not see anything. 
 He wants to speak with you personally as soon 
 as possible. 
 
 Nat. I will come. Go home, go 1 
 
 Daja. Take it not amiss, your worship. — 0, 
 God, we are very perplexed about that which 
 the Sultan wants. 
 
 Nat. That will soon show itself I Go, now r 
 go! 
 
 Scene VII. — "Nathan and the Templar. 
 
 Temp. Do you not know him yet ? I mean 
 in person ? 
 
 Nat. Saladin ? not yet. I did not avoid of 
 seeing him nor did I endeavor to get acquainted 
 with him. The general reputation spoke by 
 far too favorable of him, that I should not 
 rather believe than perceive myself. But now 
 
18 NATHAN THE WISE. 
 
 — provided it be so — lias he by saving your 
 life 
 
 Temp. Yes ! It is certainly so. The life that 
 I have is his gift. 
 
 Nat. By which he made me a present of a 
 double and three-fold life. This has changed 
 everything between us and enchained me at 
 once to his service forever. I can hardly wait 
 for his first command. I am ready for every- 
 thing and I am prepared to confess to him, that 
 I am so for your sake. 
 
 Temp. I could not thank him yet, although I 
 got often in his way. The impression I made 
 on him came as suddenly as it vanished. Who 
 knows whether he recollects me. And neverthe- 
 less, he must at least once more remember me, 
 in order to decide fully my fate* It is not 
 •enough, that I still exist by his command and 
 live by his will ; but I must wait to learn from 
 him whose will shall control my life. 
 
 Nat. No otherwise ! The more so I will not 
 tarry. There will be dropped a word perhaps, 
 that affords me an opportunity to speak of you. 
 Allow, excuse me — I am in great haste ! But 
 when shall we see you in our house ? 
 
NATHAN THE WISH. 19 
 
 Temp. As soon as I am permitted. 
 
 Nat. As soon as you want. 
 
 Temp. To-day, then. 
 
 Nat. And your name ? — if you please. 
 
 Temp. My name was — is Curd von Stauffen 
 —Curd ! 
 
 Nat. Yon Stauffen ?— Stauffen ?— Stauffen ? 
 
 Temp. Why does the name surprise you so 
 much ? 
 
 Nat. Von Stauffen ? There have already 
 been several of this family 
 
 Temp. Oh, yes ! Several of this family were 
 here and moulder already here in the grave. 
 Even my uncle, — I mean to say my father. — 
 But why do you look so piercingly at me more 
 and more ? 
 
 Nat. Oh, nothing ! nothing I How can I 
 get tired to gaze at you ? 
 
 Temp. Therefore I will leave you first. The 
 inquirer's look found not seldom more, than he 
 wished to find. Nathan I am afraid of it. Let 
 
80 NATHAN THE WISH. 
 
 time make us acquainted by degrees and not 
 curiosity. (Exit.) 
 
 Nat. (looking after him with astonishment.) 
 " The inquirer found not seldom more than he 
 wished to find." It is, however, as if he would 
 be reading in my soul ! — Indeed, this could also 
 happen to me ! He has not only Wolfs waist 
 and step ; but also his voice. Exactly so threw 
 Wolf up his head, so carried Wolf his sword 
 in his arm, even so rubbed Wolf his eye-brows 
 with his hands to conceal, as it were, the fire of 
 his look. — How such deep imprinted pictures 
 can sleep in us for sometime until a word or a 
 sound awakens them ! Yon Stauffen ! That 
 is so ! that's so ! Filneck and Stauffen ! — I will 
 soon learn this more accurately. Yes, immedi- 
 ately. Now first to Saladin. — But how ? Is 
 not Daja listening there 1 Come, come nearer, 
 Daja. 
 
 Scene VIII. — Daja and JSathan. 
 
 Nat. What is the matter? The hearts of 
 you both are already anxious to learn something 
 else than that which Saladin asks of me. 
 
NATHAN THE WISE. 81 
 
 Daja. Do you blame her for it ? You have 
 just commenced to talk with him more famil- 
 iarly when the Sultan's message scared us away 
 from the window. 
 
 Nat. Well, tell her, she may expect him 
 every minute. 
 
 Daja. Sure ? Sure ? 
 
 Nat. Can I certainly rely upon you, Daja ? 
 Stand upon your guard I pray you. You shall 
 not regret it. Your conscience will find its 
 account in it. But do not spoil anything of my 
 plan. When you relate and ask, do it with 
 discretion and reserve 
 
 Daja. Is it necessary that you shall still 
 remind me of all this ! — I am going, and you 
 may go too. For see there is coming a second 
 messenger from the Sultan. Al. Hafi, your 
 Dervise. (Exit.) 
 
 Scene IX. — Nathan and Al Hafi. 
 
 Al H. Halloo ! I am just coming to see you 
 again. 
 
82 NATHAN THE WISE. 
 
 Nat. Is it so very pressing ? What does he 
 want from me ? 
 
 Al H. Who ? 
 
 Nat. Saladin — I am coming, I am coming. 
 
 Al H. To whom ? To Saladin ? 
 
 Nat. Are you not sent by Saladin ? 
 
 Al H. I? No. Has he already sent for 
 you ? 
 
 Nat. Yes, cerfainly he did. 
 
 Al EF. Now, it is true. 
 
 Nat. What ? What is true? 
 
 Al H. That .... I am not to blame 
 for it. Grod knows I am not guilty. What did 
 I not say of you, and uttered falsehoods in 
 order to avoid it ! 
 
 Nat. What was to avoid ? What is true ? 
 
 Al H. That you became now his deftendar. 
 I pity you. But I cannot stand it. I shall 
 depart in this hour, I will go. You have 
 already heard whither and you know the way. 
 Have you any commissions on this road, tell 
 
NATHAN THE WISH. 83 
 
 me, and I am at your service. It must be cer- 
 tainly not more than what a naked person can 
 carry with him. I am going, say it immedi- 
 ately. 
 
 Nat. But consider it, Al Hafi consider, that 
 I do not know yet anything. What are you 
 talking about ? 
 
 Al H. Do you bring the bags with you in- 
 stantly ? 
 
 . Nat. Bags? 
 
 Al H. Well, the money, that you shall ad- 
 vance to Saladin. 
 
 Nat. And nothing else ? 
 
 Al H. Shall I witness it, how he will daily 
 excavate you from the top to the toe ? Shall I 
 bear it, that lavishness shall so long borrow and 
 borrow from the never-empty store-houses of 
 the wise liberality until even the indigenous 
 mice must starve therein to death ? — Do you 
 imagine perhaps that he, who needs J. your 
 money, he would also follow your advice ? He 
 the follower of an advice ? When did Saladin 
 
84 NATHAN THE WISH. 
 
 take advice from any one? Think Nathan, how 
 he treated me just now. 
 
 Nat. Well! 
 
 Al H. I came to him, when he and his sister 
 had been at chess. Sittah does not play badly 
 and the game, that Saladin considered as lost 
 and had already given up, stood there still 
 untouched. I looked at it, and found, that this 
 play was far from being lost. 
 
 Nat. Ah, this was a discovery for you •! 
 
 Al H. He needed to move the king to the 
 pawn against her check. If I could only show 
 it you ! 
 
 Nat. Oh, I trust to your word ! 
 
 Al H. For thus the rook takes the field, and 
 she was checkmated. T wanted to show him all 
 this, I called him.— Think 
 
 Nat. Was he not of your opinion ? 
 
 Al H. He did not give heed to what I uttered, 
 and threw disdainfully the whole play on one 
 heap. 
 
 Nat. Is that possible ? 
 
NATHAN THE WISE. 85 
 
 Al H. And said : He will now be check- 
 mated. He will ! Do you call that playing ? 
 
 Nat. Hardly ! It is indeed playing with 
 the play. 
 
 Al H. Yet they did not play for a hollow 
 nut! 
 
 1ST at. Money is no object ! That is the least. 
 But not to listen to you at all, not to mind 
 what you said about a point of such importance, 
 and not to admire your piercing and discern- 
 ing eye, that cries out to heaven for vengeance. 
 Is it not so ? 
 
 Al H. Eh, what ! I tell you only so that 
 you may see what a strong-headed man he is. 
 In short, I, I cannot deal with him any longer. 
 There I run about to all the mean moors, asking 
 who likes to lend him some money. I, who 
 never begged for myself, shall now borrow for 
 others. Borrowing is not much better than go- 
 a-begging, as applying money on usury is not 
 much better than stealing. I do not require 
 both among my benefactors on the Ganges, and 
 I need not be the tool of both. Only on the 
 Ganges, on the Ganges there are men. You are 
 
86 NATHAN THE WISE. 
 
 the only man here who is worthy of living also 
 on the Ganges. Will you come with, me ? 
 Leave at once the whole trumpery with him 
 which is his only aim. He will deprive you of 
 that by degrees after all. Thus you get rid 
 then on a sudden of all vexation. I purchase 
 you a delk.* Come ! Come ! 
 
 Nat. I should think, that will remain to us 
 to do at any time. But Al Hafi, I will consider 
 it. Wait 
 
 Al H. Consider ? No, such a thing need 
 not be weighed in the mind. 
 
 Nat. Until only I shall return from the Sul- 
 tan and I shall have first taken leave. . . . 
 
 Al H. He, who is considering, tries to find 
 motives for not doing it. He who cannot make 
 up his mind at once to live by himself, he lives 
 forever a slave of others. Do as you please ! 
 Farewell ! Do all, that suits your fancy. My 
 way is there, and yours here. 
 
 Nat. You will probably settle first your 
 accounts ! 
 
 * A Dervise's garment. 
 
NATHAN THE WISH. 87 
 
 Al H. Eh, what ! the clear amount of the 
 treasury is not worth counting it, and you or 
 Sittah will answer for my acount. Farewell ! 
 (Exit.) 
 
 Nat. (looking after him.) I guarantee 
 that ! — Wild, good, noble — how shall I call 
 him ? The true beggar is only and solely the 
 true king. (Exit on another side.) 
 
NATHAN THE WISE. 
 
 ACT III. 
 
 Scene 1. — Scenery : — A room in Nathan's house. Recha,. 
 Daja. 
 
 Rech. How, Daja, did father express him- 
 self? "I may expect him every moment ?"" 
 This sounds — is it not so — as if he would ap- 
 pear very soon. — But how many momeDts 
 passed by already ! Oh well ! Who would 
 think of the past ! I will only live in every 
 next moment. There will be one coming, that 
 brings him at last. 
 
 Daja. Oh, that cursed message of the Sultan !: 
 Else Nathan would have brought him instantly 
 with him. 
 
 Rech. And if this moment will have arrived p 
 if this ardent and best of my wishes will be 
 fulfilled what then ? — what then ? 
 
NATHAN THE WISH. 82 
 
 Daja What then ? Then T will hope, that 
 my warmest wish will also be fulfilled. 
 
 Rech. What shall in its place enter then my 
 breast that has already forgotten to become 
 wide without a prevailing wish? — Nothing? 
 Oh, I am frightened ! 
 
 Daja. My wish shall then take the place of 
 that which was fulfilled. My desire, that yon 
 may be in Europe in the hands of one worthy 
 of you. 
 
 Rech. You are mistaken. — That which 
 causes this within you the same prohibits me of 
 ever entertaining it. Your fatherland has some 
 attractions for you, and mine shall not have any 
 for me ? The picture of your relations that is 
 not quite extinguished in your soul shall have 
 more power than that of mine whom I see, lay 
 hold of and hear ? 
 
 Daja. Resist as much as you please ! The 
 ways of heaven are the ways of heaven. If he 
 were now your deliverer by whom his God, for 
 whom he is fighting, would lead you into the 
 land and to the people for whom you were 
 born ? 
 
$0 NATHAN THE WISH. 
 
 Rech. What are you talkiDg again, dear 
 Daja ! Indeed ! You have your curious 
 notions ! His, his God ? for whom he is fight- 
 ing ! Who does own God ? What is that for 
 a God who is possessed of a man ? Who needs 
 some one to fight for him ? How does any 
 one know for what mass of earth he was born, 
 if not for that upon which he has been born ? 
 — If my father would hear you talking so! 
 What has he done to you, that you impose on 
 me a fortune by allusion as far away from him. 
 as possible ? What has he done to you, that 
 you like to mix the seeds of reason which he 
 has strewn so pure in my soul with the weeds or 
 flowers of your country? Dear Daja, he does 
 not want your gay flowers upon my soil ! And 
 I must tell you, I feel it myself, that my soil is 
 weakened and exhausted by your flowers even 
 though they would become her ever so nicely. 
 Their fragrancy, their sour-sweet scent makes 
 me quite bewildered and dazzling! — Your 
 brains are more used to it. I do not blame 
 you for your stronger nerves, that you can 
 endure it. But it does not suit me. And in 
 regard to your angel, was I not very near be- 
 coming a fool through him ? I feel still 
 ashamed of that farce before my father ! 
 
NATHAN THE WISE. 91 
 
 Daja. Farce ! — As if the reason were only 
 here at home ! Farce ! Farce ! If I dare only 
 speak ! 
 
 Rech. Dare you not ? When was I not 
 all ears if you was ever pleased to converse 
 with me on your defenders of the faith ? Did 
 not I always admire their deeds and shed tears 
 for their sufferings ? Their belief did certainly 
 never appear to me the most heroic in them. 
 But the more consoling is the doctrine, that the 
 devotion to God depends not at all on that 
 which we think of Grod. — Dear Daja, my father 
 told us this very often, and you have frequently 
 agreed with him about it Why do you under- 
 mine yourself what you have built up with him 
 together ? Dear Daja, this is not the best con- 
 versation at present, when we are looking 
 towards our friend. For me it is, indeed ! 
 Because it is of great importance to me, whe- 
 ther he also . . . ! Hark Daja ! — Is not 
 any one approaching our door ? Oh, if it were 
 he*! Hark ! 
 
92 NATHAN THE WISE. 
 
 Scene II. — Recha, Daja and the Templar for whom some 
 one opens the door on the outside with the words : Walk in 
 here ! 
 
 Eech. (starting back, but collecting herself 
 intending to fall at his feet.) It is he ! — My 
 deliverer, Oh ! 
 
 Temp. To avoid that I have appeared so late I 
 and yet — 
 
 Eech. At the feet of this proud man I will 
 once more thank Grod, and not the man. The 
 man wants no thanks. Wishing it quite as 
 little as the bucket does, that busied in extin- 
 guishing the fire. It let fill and empty itself 
 easily. Exactly so is the man. He was also 
 driven into the fire. There I fell by chance 
 into his arms and remained there by chance like 
 a spark upon his cloak until I do not know 
 what, has thrown us both out of the fire. — What 
 is there to thank for ? — In Europe the wine 
 instigates to quite other deeds. Templars must 
 act in such a way, they have, as a little better, 
 trained dogs, to carry the things out of the fire 
 or water. 
 
 Temp, (looking at her all the time with 
 
NATHAN THE WISE. 93 
 
 amazement and uneasiness.) Oh, Daja, Daja ! 
 If my ill humor in moments of sorrow and bit- 
 terness has received you with harsh words, why 
 did you apprize her of every folly my tongue 
 has uttered ? Daja, that is too affectedly re- 
 sented ! But if you would only henceforth 
 represent me better to her. 
 
 Daja. Knight, I do not believe these little 
 thorns thrown at her heart did you much harm. 
 
 Rech. How ? You were distressed ? And 
 you have been more sparing of your sorrow 
 than of your life ? 
 
 Temp. Dear, sweet girl ! How is my soul 
 divided among ear and eye ! — This was not the 
 girl, no, no, this was not she, that I carried out 
 of the fire. Because he, who had only known 
 her, would he not have carried her out of 
 the fire ? — Who would have waited for me ? 
 — Indeed ! — horror — disguises — (Pause during 
 which he is absorbed in contemplation of her.) 
 
 Rech. But I find you still the same. — (In 
 like manner until she continues to arouse him 
 out of his astonishment.) "Well, knight, please 
 
94 NATHAN THE WISH. 
 
 tell us where you have been so long. — Dare I 
 ask you where you are at present ? 
 
 Temp. I am — perhaps where I ought not to 
 be.— 
 
 Eech. Where you have been ? — And where 
 perhaps you ought not to have been ? That is 
 not good. 
 
 Temp. Upon — upon — what is the name of the 
 mount ? upon Sinai. 
 
 Rech. Upon Sinai — 0, beautiful ! Now I 
 can finally learn whether it is true 
 
 Temp. What ? What ? Whether it is true, 
 that there is still to be seen the place where 
 Moses stood before Grod, when 
 
 Rech. Well, I do not mean that. Because 
 he was standing before God, wherever he stood. 
 I became fully acquainted with that. I like 
 only to hear whether it is true, that it is by far 
 not so troublesome to ascend than to descend 
 this mountain ? For look here ! all the moun- 
 tains I have ever ascended, it was just to the 
 contrary. Well knight ? — What ? You turn 
 away from me ? You will not look at me ? 
 
NATHAN THE WISE, 95> 
 
 Temp. Because I will the better hear you. 
 
 Rech, Because you will not let me know, 
 that you smile at my simplicity, not to ask a 
 more important question about the holiest 
 mountain than that ? Is it not so ? 
 
 Temp. I must now look again in your eyes. 
 — What ? Now, you cast them down ? JSTow 
 you chuckle ? How I wish to read still in 
 features, doubtful features, all that I hear so 
 plainly, which you are distinctly telling me — 
 or rather keep hidden from me ? — Oh, Recha ! 
 Recha ! How true is that which he said : " But 
 know her first." 
 
 Rech. Who told you that ? of whom ? 
 
 Temp. But know her first, your father told 
 me this about you. 
 
 Daja. Did not I too ? Did not I also ? 
 
 Temp. But where is he ? Where is your 
 father ? Is he still at the Sultan's ? 
 
 Rech. Undoubtedly ! 
 
 Temp. Yet, still there ? — what a forgetful 
 
36 NATHAN THE WISE. 
 
 man I am ! No, no. He can hardly be there 
 now. He surely awaits me down there near 
 the cloister. Thus we agreed upon, I guess. 
 Excuse ! I am going, I call him 
 
 Daja. That is my business. Stay here, 
 Knight, stay. I will bring him immediately. 
 
 Temp. Not so, not so ! He is looking for 
 me and not for you. And besides, he might 
 
 Who knows ? . . . . might 
 
 be brought by the Sultan you 
 
 do not know the Sultan ! He 
 
 might be brought into a scrape. Believe me, 
 there is danger, if I do not go. 
 
 Eech. Danger ? What danger 
 
 ? 
 
 Temp. Danger to me, to you, to him, if I do 
 not depart quickly. (Exit.) 
 
 Scene III. — Recha and Daja. 
 
 Eech. Daja, what is that ? — So quick ? — 
 what has befallen him ? What shocked him ? 
 What has driven him ? 
 
NATHAN THE WISE. 97 
 
 Daja. Let it alone ! I guess it is not a bad 
 
 sign. 
 
 Eech. Sign ? and of what ? 
 
 Daja. That something is going on within. 
 It is boiling and shall not overboil. Let him 
 alone ! Now is your turn. 
 
 Rech. What does that mean ? You become 
 to me as inconceivable as he is. 
 
 Daja. All anxiety he gave you, you can 
 very soon retaliate on him. But do not be too 
 severe and not too revengeful. 
 
 Rech. You may know|best about what you 
 are speaking. 
 
 Daja. And are you quite composed again ? 
 
 Rech. I am, indeed, I am 
 
 Daja. Confess at least, that you are rejoicing 
 in his uneasiness, and you are indebted to it 
 for your tranquility. 
 
 Rech. I am not aware fe of it at all ! I can 
 merely confess that it astonishes me, how such 
 a tranquility could suddenly follow after such 
 
 7 
 
98 NATHAN THE WISE. 
 
 a storm in my breast. His look, his conversa- 
 tion and manners have me 
 
 Daja. Fully satisfied ? * 
 
 Rech. Satisfied, I do not mean to say this ; 
 no — far from that. 
 
 Daja. Appeased merely the voracious ap- 
 petite. 
 
 Rech. Well, yes, if you like it so. 
 
 Daja. I do not, indeed. 
 
 Rech. He will always remain to me as dear 
 and dearer still than my life, although my pulse 
 does not change, and my heart beats not quick- 
 er and stronger any more at mere mentioning 
 of his name. What do I blab? Come, dear 
 Daja, let us go again to the window which faces 
 the palm-trees. 
 
 Daja. Your insatiable appetite is not yet 
 appeased. 
 
 Rech. Now I shall see again the palm- 
 trees, and not only him beneath them. 
 
 Daja. This chill is now the beginning of a 
 new fever. 
 
NATHAN THE WISE. 99 
 
 Eech. What chill ? I am not cold. I see 
 certainly not with less pleasure that which I 
 see with ease. 
 
 Scene IY. — Saladin and Sittah. 
 Scene. — Presence chamber in the palace of Saladin, 
 
 Sal. (when entering speaks to some one 
 without.) Bring the Jew hither, when he 
 comes. It seems that he does not hurry him- 
 self. 
 
 Sit. He was probably not at hand, could 
 not be found forthwith. 
 
 Sal. Sister ! Sister ! 
 
 Sit. You behave as if a battle were immi- 
 nent. 
 
 Sal. And to fight there with arms which 
 to handle I have never been drilled. I shall 
 simulate, shall give orders, shall lay snares, 
 shall lead on slippery ice. When could I do 
 that? Where did I learn that? And oh. for 
 what purpose shall all this be done ? For what ? 
 To fish for money ! money ! And for the sake 
 
100 NATHAN THE WISE. 
 
 of money shall I extort by frightening money 
 from a Jew ? Money ! To such petty artifices 
 shall I finally resort to procure me the smallest 
 of all triflings ? 
 
 Sit. Every trifle, too much despised, re- 
 venges itself, dear brother. 
 
 Sal. Alas, it is true ! And if now this Jew 
 is a good and intelligent man as the Dervise- 
 once described him to you ? 
 
 Sit. Oh, well then ! There is not much 
 trouble ! The snare is only laid for the avarici- 
 ous, anxious and timorous Jew, but not for the 
 good, not for the wise man. He is already 
 ours without a snare. The pleasure to hear T 
 how such a man would excuse himself, with 
 what force he either boldly breaks short the 
 cords, or with what skillful caution he will 
 glide by the trap, this pleasure you will get to 
 boot. 
 
 Sal. Well, that is true. Certainly, I am 
 glad of it. 
 
 Sit. Thus nothing can embarrass you further. 
 Because is he only one of the mass of the peo- 
 ple, is he merely a Jew like any Jew. Will 
 
NATHAN THE WISE. 101 
 
 you be ashamed at appearing to him as he thinks 
 all men to be? Indeed! He who shows him- 
 self better, appears to him as a fool, a cox- 
 comb. 
 
 Sal. Must I therefore act badly, that the 
 wicked shall not think bad of me ? 
 
 Sit. Surely ! If you call bad acting when 
 one uses everything according to its quality. 
 
 Sal. What was ever devised by a woman's 
 head that it does not know to palliate ! 
 
 Sit. To palliace ! 
 
 Sal. I fear the fine pointed thing will break 
 in my clumsy hand. Such an affair must be 
 carried out, as it was contrived, with all crafti- 
 ness and dexterity. Be it so, well and good ! I 
 am dancing as I can. And I would, I could 
 rather worse than better. 
 
 Sit. Do not place too little confidence in 
 yourself. I make myself responsible for you ! 
 If you only will, — Men of your rank like 
 always to persuade us, that they raised them- 
 selves very much only by their sword. The 
 lion is certainly ashamed when hunting with a 
 fox, but only of the fox, not of the artifice. 
 
102 NATHAN THE WISE. 
 
 Sal. And the women like to bring down 
 the men to their own level ! Gro ! go ! I think 
 I know my lesson ! 
 
 Sit. What ? Shall I go ? 
 
 Sal. You do not like to stay ? 
 
 Sit. If not to stay to be in 
 
 your sight ; yet there in the adjoining apart- 
 ment. 
 
 Sal. To listen there ? Even not that, if I 
 shall stand firmly. — Away ! Go hence ! The 
 curtain rustles. He is coming ! but do not 
 stay there ! I will look to it. (While she- 
 leaves by one door ; Nathan is entering by 
 another, and Saladin seats himself.) 
 
 Scene V. — Saladan and Nathan. 
 
 Sal. Come nearer Jew ! nearer ! — Ap- 
 proach still nearer ! Be without fear ! 
 
 Nat. In that be your enemies ! 
 
 Sal. You call yourself Nathan ? 
 
 Nat. Yes. 
 
NATHAN THE WISE. 103 
 
 Sal. The wise Nathan ? 
 
 Nat. No. 
 
 Sal. Well ! You may not call yourself so, 
 but the people do. 
 
 Nat. May be the people ! 
 
 Sal. Do you think, that I would regard the 
 people's voice disdainfully ? I wished long 
 ago to get acquainted with the man whom they 
 call the wise. 
 
 Nat. And if they call him so out of mock- 
 ery ? If the people understand by wise noth- 
 ing else but smart, and consider only smart who 
 has skill in seeking his own benefit ? 
 
 Sal. Do you mean his real benefit? 
 
 Nat. Well, the most selfisb were then the 
 smartest. And certainly wise and smart were 
 one and the same. 
 
 Sal. I hear you prove that, which you try 
 to contradict. The real interests of man which 
 the people do not know, are known to you. 
 You endeavored at least to know them, you re- 
 
104 NATHAN THE WISE. 
 
 fleeted on them, this alone makes one a wise 
 man. 
 
 Nat. Every one thinks himself to be so. 
 
 Sal. Well ! Enough now of modesty ! Be- 
 cause it is disgusting at hearing it always when 
 we expect plain reason. (Starts up.) Let us 
 come to the subject ! But, but be honest Jew, 
 honest ! 
 
 Nat. Sultan, I will surely serve you so, 
 that I shall remain worthy of having your fur- 
 ther custom ! 
 
 Sal. Serve ? How ? 
 
 Nat. You shall have the best of all ; you 
 shall have it at the lowest rate. 
 
 Sal. What are you talking about ? Surely 
 not about your goods ? — You can carry on a 
 chaffering trade with my sister. (That for the 
 eavesdropper !) — I have nothing to do with the 
 merchant. 
 
 Nat. Then you wish undoubtedly to be in- 
 formed, what I perceived on my way about the 
 enemy who is stirring again ? If I shall openly 
 
NATHAN THE WISE. 105 
 
 Sal. Neither did I steer with you for that. 
 I know already as much as I need. — In fine. — 
 
 Nat. Command, Sultan ! 
 
 Sal. I wish your information about quite 
 another thing, about quite another. As you 
 are now so wise, tell me what belief and what 
 law do you consider the most reasonable ? 
 
 Nat. Sultan, I am a Jew. 
 
 Sal. And I am a Mussulman. The Christian 
 is between us. But of these three religions can 
 only one be true. A man like you does not 
 stop there where he was hurled by chance of 
 birth, or if he remains he does it from convic- 
 tion, arguments and choice of the better. Well ! 
 tell me now your opinion. Let me hear your ar- 
 guments, having not the time to enlighten myself 
 upon them. Let me know your choice, of 
 course in a confidential way, which was prompt- 
 ed by those reasons, that I make it mine. 
 How ? You are startled ? You measure me 
 attentively ? It may be, that I am the first 
 Sultan who has such a whim which as it seems 
 to me, is not unworthy of a Sultan altogether. 
 Is it not so ? Speak, speak ! Or do you want 
 
106 NATHAN THE WISE. 
 
 a moment for consideration ? Well ! you shall 
 have it. (Whether she is listening I will watch 
 her, I will hear whether I acted right. — ) Think 
 upon it ! Consider it quickly ! I will be back 
 immediately. (He goes into the adjoining 
 room where Sittah repaired to.) 
 
 Scene VI. — Nathan alone. 
 
 Nat. Hm ! Hm ! — It is strange ! — How will 
 it fare with me ? — What is the Sultan's inten- 
 tion ? I was prepared for money, and he asks 
 for truth, for truth ! And he wants it in ready 
 cash and shining as if truth were a coin. Yes r 
 if it were a very ancient coin that was weighed, 
 this may be done very well, but such new coin- 
 age that a die stamps only its value and may 
 be counted upon the table, that she is surely 
 not. Can truth be taken into the head like one 
 takes money by a promiscuous sweep and pock- 
 ets it? Who is then here the Jew ? I or he ? 
 But how? Should he ask the truth not in 
 truth ? — Indeed, the suspicion that he uses the 
 truth only for a trap is too small ! Too small ? 
 What is for the big man too small ? Certainly I 
 
.• NATHAN THE WISE. 10 F 
 
 Thus he speaks uncermoniously. "When one 
 comes as a friend, he knocks at the door and 
 then listens. I must move cautiously ! And how ! 
 how is that ? To be an old fashioned Jew that 
 will not do ! Much less not to be a Je w at all ; 
 for if not a Jew, he might ask me why are you 
 not a Mussulman ? That was it ! This can 
 save me ! We do not feed only children with 
 a fine story. He is coming : well, let him. 
 come. 
 
 Scene VII. — Saladin and Nathan. 
 
 Sal. (Here is the field now clear !) I do not 
 return too soon for you ? You are done with 
 your consideration. — Well, speak then ! Not a 
 soul hears us ! 
 
 Nat. I would like the whole world may hear 
 
 Sal. So sure is Nathan of his cause ? Ah r 
 that I call a wise man ! To conceal never the- 
 truth ! To set everything on stake for it I 
 Body and soul !. Wealth and life ! 
 
 Nat. Yes ! Yes ! when necessary and use- 
 ful. 
 
108 NATHAN THE WISE. * 
 
 Sal. From this time I may hope to bear 
 justly one of my title's reformer of the world 
 and of the law. 
 
 Nat. Indeed ! a beautiful title ! But, Sul- 
 tan, before I unbosom myself to you, will you 
 allow me to tell you a little story ? — 
 
 Sal. Why not? I was always a lover of 
 stories well told. 
 
 Nat. Yes, to tell a story well that is not my 
 affair. 
 
 Sal. Are you again so proudly modest ? — Go 
 on ! relate ! relate ! 
 
 Nat. In remote antiquity there lived a man 
 in the east who was in possession of a ring of 
 inestimable value that he had received from a 
 beloved hand. Its stone was an opal that 
 sparkled with a hundred beautiful colors, and 
 had the mysterious power of rendering him 
 agreeable to God and man, whosoever had 
 worn it with such a confidence. What is won- 
 derful about it that therefore the eastern man 
 never took off the ring from 'his finger and 
 made the arrangement of preserving it forever 
 in his family ? He did it in this way. He gave 
 
NATHAN THE WISE. 109 
 
 the ring to the most beloved one among his 
 sons, and established the rule, that he shall 
 bequeath the ring again to such a one among 
 his sons whom he liked best and this most be- 
 loved, without regard to his birth-time, and 
 only on account of the possession of the ring 
 shall ever become the bead and the prince of 
 the family. — Understand me, Sultan. 
 
 Sal. I understand you. Go on ! 
 
 Nat. This ring was then inherited from son 
 to son until finally to one who had three sons 
 who were equally obedient to him and therefore 
 could not forbear loving all three in like man- 
 ner. But from time to time soon this one, soon 
 that one and soon the third was considered by 
 him to be worthy of the ring when every one 
 was alone with him, and the other two did not 
 participate in the overflowing love of his heart. 
 He had also the pardonable weakness to prom- 
 ise it to each of them. So it went on for a 
 long time. But when he was on the eve of 
 death, the good father found himself in a great 
 perplexity. It grieves him to offend two of his 
 sons relying upon his word. — What is to be 
 done ? — He sends secretly for an artisan and 
 
110 NATHAN THE WISE. 
 
 ordered him to make two rings by imitating his 
 ring as a model, and told him expressly to 
 spare neither expenses nor trouble to make 
 them like his ring, precisely like that. The 
 artisan succeeded in his work. When he 
 brought the rings to him, even the father him- 
 self could not distinguish his pattern from 
 others. Cheerful and happy he sends for each 
 one of his sons separately gave each one his 
 blessing — and his ring — and died. — Do you 
 listen Sultan? 
 
 Sal. (who was confounded turned away from 
 him.) I hear, I hear ! Finish soon your story. 
 —Will you? 
 
 Nat. I am done ; for all which follows now, 
 that is a matter of course. — The father was 
 scarcely dead, and each came with his ring and 
 wanted to be the prince of the family. They 
 investigated, quarreled and appealed to law. 
 In vain ! the genuine ring could not be proved ; 
 — (After a pause during which he was waiting 
 for the Sultan's answer.) exactly, as the right 
 faith is not demonstrable to us at present. 
 
 Sal. How ? Shall this be an answer to my 
 question ? 
 
NATHAN THE WISE. Ill 
 
 Nat. It shall only serve me for an excuse if 
 I do not venture to discern the rings which the 
 father had expressly ordered to be made so 
 similar, that they should not be distinguished. 
 
 Sal. The rings ! — do not play with me ! — 
 I should think, that the religions I have men- 
 tioned are to be recognized apart. Even so far 
 as concerning clothes, meat and drink ! 
 
 Nat. But not in regard to their arguments. 
 Because are not all based on history ? Writ- 
 ten or handed down orally? — And must not 
 history be believed on the faith of another ? 
 — Not ? — Now over which will we throw the 
 least doubt ? Surely over that of our fathers, 
 whose blood we are ? Who gave us from our 
 infancy proofs of their attachment? Who 
 never deceived us save when deceiving was 
 more wholesome to us ? — How can VL believe 
 less my father, than you do yours ? Or vice 
 versa. Can I ask of you to give your an- 
 cestors the lie in order not to contradict mine? 
 Or reversed. The same may also be said of 
 the Christians. Is it not so ? 
 
 Sal. (By the everlasting ! the man is right. I 
 must remain silent.) 
 
112 NATHAN THE WISE. 
 
 Nat. Let us return to the rings. As I have 
 already said, the sons sued each other, and 
 each swore to it before the Judge, that he had 
 the ring directly from his father's hand — as it 
 was true after having had his promise long 
 before to enjoy at one time the privilege of the 
 ring. — This was not less true! — The father, 
 each one solemnly declared, could not have 
 proved false to him ; and instead of allowing 
 to conceive any suspicion of such a beloved 
 father, he will rather accuse his brothers of foul 
 play although he was always disposed to think 
 the best of them ; and he will soon try to find 
 out the traitors and take revenge on them. 
 
 Sal. Well, and the Judge? Hike to know, 
 what you let the Judge say about it. Speak ! 
 
 Nat. The Judge said : If you do not bring 
 your father hither immediately I shall dismiss 
 you from my tribunal. Do you think, that I am 
 here to solve enigmas ? Or do you wait until 
 the genuine ring will open its mouth ? But, 
 hold ! I understand that the genuine ring pos- 
 sesses the wonderful power to render favorite, 
 agreeable to God and men. This must decide ! 
 Because the counterfeit rings could not produce 
 
NATHAN THE WISH. 113 
 
 that. — Now who of you three is loved the best 
 by two? — Go on, tell me? You are silent? 
 They have only a retrocative power and no 
 effect outwards. Every one loves himself the 
 most. 0, all three of you are deceived deceiv- 
 ers ! None of your three rings are genuine. 
 The real one is probably lost. To conceal and 
 reimburse the loss, the father ordered that three 
 be made instead of one. 
 
 Sal. Excellent! Excellent! 
 
 Nat. And thus the Judge continued, if you 
 do not want my advice instead of my judg- 
 ment, go then ! — But my advice is this : You 
 shall take the affair just as it is! Has each of 
 you received his ring from his father, then shall 
 every one of you firmly believe that his ring is 
 genuine. It is possible, that the father did not 
 like to suffer in his house the tyranny of the ring 
 any longer ! And certainly he loved you all 
 three alike ; because he did not want to op- 
 press two in order to favor the cause of one. 
 Well ! Strive to equal him in his impartial 
 love uncorrupted by prejudice ! Try to outdo 
 each other in bringing to light the power of 
 the stone in his ring. Assist this power with 
 
114 NATHAN THE WISE. 
 
 gentleness, hearty sociableness, beneficence and 
 with fervent devotion to God. And if the pow- 
 ers of the stones are visible among the children 
 of your children's children, I summon you in a 
 thousand, thousand years to appear again be- 
 fore this chair. A wiser man than I will be 
 seated on this chair, and speak. Go ! — Thus 
 said the modest judge. 
 
 Sal. God! God! 
 
 Nat. If you think yourself to be that prom- 
 ised, wiser man .... 
 
 Sal. (who is rushing upon him seizes his 
 hand and does not relinquish his hold until the 
 end.) I, dust? I, nothing? 0, God ! 
 
 Mat. What is the matter with you ? 
 
 Sal. Nathan ! Dear Nathan ! The thous- 
 ands of years of your judge are not over yet. 
 The Judge's high seat is not mine. — Go ! — Go ! 
 — But be my friend. 
 
 Nat. And has Saladin nothing to tell me be- 
 sides that ? 
 
 Sal. Nothing. 
 
NATHAN THE WISE. 115 
 
 Nat. Nothing? 
 
 Sal. Nothing at all.— And why ? 
 
 Nat. I would wish I had also an opportunity 
 of making a request to you. 
 
 Sal. Needs a supplication an opportunity ? — 
 Speak ! 
 
 Nat. I returned from a distant voyage on 
 which I have collected some outstanding debts. 
 I have now too much cash on hand. Times be- 
 gin to look gloomy again and I do not know 
 where I can invest it safely. — I thought then, 
 whether you could use some perhaps ; because 
 as the approaching war demands always more 
 money. 
 
 Sal. (staring at his eyes) Nathan ! I will 
 not ask you whether Al Han has seen you al- 
 ready, nor shall I investigate whether any sus- 
 picion induces you to make me spontaneously 
 such an offer 
 
 Nat. Suspicion ? 
 
 Sal. I deserve it. — Excuse me ! — For what 
 boots it ? I must confess to you, that I was 
 about 
 
116 NATHAN THE WISE. 
 
 Nat. Not to look for the same in me, X 
 hope? 
 
 Sal. Certainly ! 
 
 Nat. Thus we are both relieved ! But the 
 cause, that I can not send you all my money in 
 cash is the young Templar. You know him 
 very well. I have first to pay to him a heavy 
 sum. 
 
 Sal. Templar ? Would you also assist with 
 your money my worst enemies ? 
 
 Nat. I speak but of him whose life you have- 
 spared 
 
 Sal. Oh, of what are you reminding me ! I 
 have forgotten this young man altogether I 
 You know him ? Where is he ? 
 
 Nat. How ? Do you not know how much I 
 have shared in the grace which you have shown 
 to him ? He, in spite of the danger to lose his 
 regained life saved my daughter from a house 
 on fire. 
 
 Sal. He? Has he done that ?— Ho ! He 
 had such looks ! Indeed ! my brother, whom 
 
NATHAN THE WISE. 117 
 
 lie resembles very much would have done the 
 same. Is he here yet? bring him here. I 
 have told my sister so much of her brother 
 whom she did not know, that I must let her 
 also see his likeness. Go, bring him ! How 
 out of one good action, although born by pas- 
 sion, flow nevertheless so many noble deeds ! 
 Oo, bring him ! 
 
 Nat. (while dropping Saladin's hand,) In 
 a moment ! And in regard to the other affair 
 does it remain so ? (Exit.) 
 
 Sal Oh, that I did not allow my sister to 
 listen ! — To her ! to her ! For how shall I 
 relate now to her all this ? (Exit on another 
 side.) 
 
 Scene VIII. — Scenery — Under the palm-trees near to the 
 cloister, where the Templar awaits Nathan. 
 
 Temp, (walking up and down debating within 
 himself until he broke out.) Here the weary 
 victim keeps itself quiet. — Very well ! I will 
 not, will not know more closely what is going 
 on within myself, will not get beforehand any 
 
138 NATHAN THE WISE. 
 
 scent of that which will happen. Enough of 
 it ! I fled in vain ! And I could do nothing 
 else but to fly ! Now come what may ! To 
 evade the blow was impossible ; because it was 
 given too quickly and then I hesitated long 
 enough to be exposed to it. To see her whom 
 to see I had but so little longing desire for, to 
 see her, is a resolution never to lose sight of her 
 again. — What resolution ? resolution is pur- 
 pose, action, and I, I was unresisting I permitted 
 that. To see her and the feeling to be caught 
 by her and woven into her life was one. Ee- 
 mains one. To live separated from her is in- 
 comprehensible to me altogether ; would be my 
 death and wheresoever we may be after death 
 even there it were my death. If that is love,. 
 then the templar, fell in love, indeed ! The 
 Christian loves the Jewish girl. — Hm ! What 
 of that ? I have already cast off many of my 
 prejudices in the holy land, and therefore it is 
 holy to me forever ! What does the order 
 require of me ? I, the Templar, I am dead, and 
 I have been so to it from the moment, that I 
 was made Saladin's prisoner. The head, pre- 
 sented to me by Saladin, were my old one ? — 
 No ! It is a new one, that knows nothing of" 
 
NATHAN THE WISH. 119 
 
 all that was talked into the other and was 
 fastened upon it, and is much better and more 
 adapted for the paternal heaven. Yes, I am 
 sensible of it ; for I begin to think with it just 
 now exactly as my father must have thought, 
 when here, in case they did not tell me stories 
 about him. Stories ? but very credible which 
 never appeared to me to be more so than now, 
 when I run the risk to stumble there where he 
 fell. He fell? I will rather fall with men 
 than stand with children. — His example secures 
 me his approbation. And whose applause con- 
 cerns me besides ? Nathan's ? 0, I will be 
 much less wanting of his encouragement that 
 is more than approval. — What a Jew ! — And 
 who will only appear but a Jew ! There he is 
 coming ; coming in haste glowing with joy. 
 Who came ever otherwise from Saladin ! Ho, 
 ho there, Nathan ! 
 
 Scene IX. — Nathan and Templar. 
 
 Nat. How ? Is it you ? 
 
 Temp. You stayed very long at the Sultan's 
 palace. 
 
120 NATHAN THE WISE. 
 
 Nat. Well, not too long, I was detained 
 too long while going there. indeed, Curd ! 
 The man outshines his fame. His fame is but 
 his shadow. But before all things I will hasten 
 to tell you .... 
 
 Temp. What ? 
 
 Nat. He will see you, and wishes, that you 
 shall come immediately to him. Accompany 
 me home where I have to order something for 
 him, and then we will go together. 
 
 Temp. I will not enter your house again 
 before 
 
 Nat. Well you have been already there ? 
 You have seen her I hope ? Well ! Tell me, 
 how do you like Kecha ? 
 
 Temp. Above all expression ! But, to see 
 her again — that I will never. Never ! Never ! 
 Except you will promise me on the spot, that I 
 can ever — ever see her. 
 
 Nat. How do you want, that I shall under- 
 stand that? 
 
 Temp, (after a short pause embracing him 
 suddenly.) My father ! 
 
NATHAN THE WISE. 121 
 
 Nat. Young man ! 
 
 Temp, (leaving him even so suddenly.) Not 
 son ? — I entreat you, Nathan ! — 
 
 Nat. My dear young man ! 
 
 Temp. Not son ? I entreat you, Nathan ! I 
 conjure you by the first bonds of nature ! Do 
 not prefer above them the latter fetters ! Be 
 satisfied to be a man ! Repulse me not ! 
 
 Nat. Dear, dear friend ! 
 
 Temp. And son ? Not son ? Even then 
 not, if gratitude has formed already a passage 
 for love to your daughter's heart ? Even then 
 not, when both are only waiting for your 'sign 
 to melt their feelings into one? You are 
 silent ? 
 
 Nat. You take me by surprise young knight. 
 
 Temp. I surprise you? — surprise you, Na- 
 than, with your own thoughts ? You do not 
 acknowledge them, however, — when expressed 
 with my mouth ? I surprise you ? 
 
 Nat. Before I know, what a StaufTen has 
 been your father ! 
 
122 NATHAN THE WISE. 
 
 Temp. What do you say, Nathan ? what ? 
 At such a moment you feel nothing but curi- 
 osity ? 
 
 Nat. For look here ! For once I have known 
 a Stauffen whose name was Conrad. 
 
 Temp. Well if my father had the same 
 name ? 
 
 Nat. Indeed ! 
 
 Temp. I am called after my father": Curd 
 is Conrad. 
 
 Nat. Then was my Conrad not ? your father ; 
 because my Conrad was what you are, a tem- 
 plar, 'was never married. 
 
 Temp. 0, therefore ! 
 
 Nat. How ? 
 
 Temp. 0, therefore he could nevertheless 
 have been my father. 
 
 Nat. You are joking. 
 
 Temp. You take it certainly too strictly ! 
 What then ? Such a thing as a bastard ! Such 
 a stroke must be noticed. — But excuse me of my 
 
NATHAN THE WISH: 123 
 
 proof of nobility, and I will excuse yours in 
 return, It is not that I put your pedigree in 
 the slightest doubt. Grod forbid ! You may 
 trace it back page after page to the days of 
 Abraham. From then farther up I know it 
 myself and I will swear to it. 
 
 Nat. You become sarcastic. — But have I 
 deserved it ? — Have I refused to you already 
 anything ? I will not use your word particularly- 
 in this moment. — Nothing else ? 
 
 Temp. Sure ? — Nothing else? 0, I beg par- 
 don. . . . . . 
 
 Nat. Well, come, come on ! 
 
 Temp. Whither ? No ! To your house ? — 
 Not that ! Not that ! It burns there !— I will 
 wait here till you come. Go ! If I shall see 
 her again, I shall see her frequently enough, and 
 if not, I have seen her already too much. 
 
 Nat. I will hasten as much as possible. 
 
 Scene X. — Templar and soon after Daja. 
 
 Temp. It is more than enough already ! The- 
 
124 NATHAN THE WISH. 
 
 drains of man comprehend a great deal, but 
 they are nevertheless, sometimes suddenly full, 
 full of a trifle. It will avail nothing be they 
 full of whatever it may. — But only patience ! 
 The soul presses soon together the puffed up 
 stuff and getting space, light and order return 
 again. Do I love for the first time ? Or was 
 it not love, that I know as such ? Is love 
 merely that which I feel now ? . . . . 
 
 Daja. (having approached by stealth from 
 the side.) Knight ! Knight ! 
 
 Temp. Who is calling ? — Ho, Daja, you ? 
 
 Daja. 1 just passed by him unheeded. But 
 he can see us yet where you are standing. 
 Therefore come nearer to me, behind this tree. 
 
 Temp. What is the matter ? So mysteriously ? 
 What is it ? 
 
 Daja. To be sure ! It concerns a double 
 mystery which brought me to you. I know 
 only the one and you the other. — How would 
 it be, if we make an exchange ? Confide to me 
 yours, and I put you in trust with mine. 
 
 Temp. With pleasure ! — If I would first only 
 
NATHAN THE WISE. 125 
 
 know that which you hold for my secret. But 
 this will appear by yours. Begin now. 
 
 Daja. Well, think only ! No! dear knight I 
 First you and I will then follow. — Because be 
 assured you will not derive any benefit from my 
 secret if I knew not first yours. Quick ! For 
 if I shall pump out your secret, you have then 
 nothing committed to me. My secret remains 
 mine and you, are rid of yours. — But poor 
 knight ! — That you men think only to conceal 
 such a mystery from us women ! 
 
 Temp. Which to have it we often do not 
 know ourselves. 
 
 Daja. This may be. Therefore I must be 
 so friendly to make you first acquainted with 
 it. Tell me ! What meant it, that you sud- 
 denly took French leave ? That you left and 
 neglected us ? That you did not return with 
 Nathan ? Did Recha touch your heart so little ? 
 How ? Or even so much ? — So much ! So 
 much ! make me acquainted with the fluttering 
 of the poor bird sticking to the rod ! In short 
 confess it to me at once, that yon love her, love 
 her frantically and I will tell you something. . . 
 
126 NATHAN THE WISH. 
 
 Temp. Frantically? Truly you are a judge 
 of it. 
 
 Daja. Acknowledge your love and I will 
 dispense you from doing it frantically. 
 
 Temp. Because that is a matter of course ? — 
 A templar loving a Jewess ! 
 
 Daja. It seems indeed ! to have a very little 
 meaning. But sometimes there is more sense in 
 a thing than we presume, and that is not a 
 thing unheard of, that the Saviour leads us to 
 him in ways where the wise would have, not 
 Tery likely tread by himself. 
 
 Temp. So solemn? (and if I use instead of 
 the expression Saviour, divine Providence, 
 is she not right ?) You make me more inquisi- 
 tive than I ever was accustomed to be. 
 
 Daja. this is the land of wonders ! 
 
 Temp. (Well ! — of the wonderful ! Can it 
 be otherwise ? The whole world is crowding 
 here. — ) Dear Daja, take for granted whatever 
 you require of me that I love her, that I do not 
 comprehend how I shall live without her, 
 that 
 
NATHAN THE WISE. 127 
 
 Daja. Are you sure of it ? Sure ? Knight, 
 swear then to me to make her yours, to save her 
 in this as well as in the world to come. 
 
 Temp. And how? — How can I? — Can I 
 swear to that which is not in my power ? 
 
 Daja. It is in your power. By a single 
 word I put it in your power. 
 
 Temp. That even the father shall not object ? 
 
 Daja. Eh, what father ! father ! The father 
 must then consent to it. 
 
 Temp. Must, Daja ? — He has not yet fallen 
 into the hands of robbers. — He must not be 
 forced. 
 
 Daja. Well, he must agree, must willingly 
 consent to it after all. 
 
 Temp. Must ? And willingly !— But Daja, if 
 I tell you now, that I tried myself already to 
 touch this chord ? 
 
 Daja. What ? And he did not join in it ? 
 
 Temp. He joined in a discordant sound which 
 offended me. 
 
128 NATHAN THE WISH. 
 
 Daja. What do you say ? — How ? You 
 have merely shown him a shadow of a wish for 
 Eecha, and he did not jump for joy? Drew 
 back coldly ? Started difficulties ? 
 
 Temp. It was nearly so. 
 
 'Daja. I will not consider it a moment longer. 
 (Pause.) 
 
 Temp. And yet you hesitate ? 
 
 Daja. Independently of that he is a very 
 good man ! — I am myself much indebted to 
 him ! Oh that he will not listen at all ! Grod 
 knows that my heart is bleeding thus to force 
 him. 
 
 Temp. I entreat you, Daja, bring me out of 
 this uncertainty. But are you yourself uncer- 
 tain yet whether that which is your design may 
 be called good or bad, disgraceful or laudable r 
 — hush. I will forget, that you have any- 
 thing to keep secret. 
 
 Daja. This spurs on instead of keeping back. 
 Well, know then ! Eecha is no Jewess, she is 
 — she is a Christian. 
 
 Temp, (coldly.) So ? I wish you joy ! Was 
 
NATHAN THE WISH. 129 
 
 this so difficult to keep it. Let not the pains 
 of labor frighten you. Continue zealously to 
 people heaven, if you cannot populate the 
 earth. 
 
 Daja. How, knight € ? Is my information 
 deserving such derision ? You a templar, are 
 not rejoiced any more that Eecha being a Chris- 
 tian ? That you love a Christian ? 
 
 Temp. Especially as she is of your own 
 making. 
 
 Daja. you understand it in this way. I 
 allow that ! No ! I will see him who will 
 convert her ! It is lucky for her that she was 
 that long ago which to become now she has 
 been corrupted. 
 
 Temp. Speak your mind freely, or — go ! 
 
 Daja. She is a Christian child, born of 
 Christian parents, is baptized 
 
 Temp, (hasty.) And Nathan ? 
 
 Daja. Is not her father. 
 
 Temp. Nathan not her father ? Do you 
 know what you say ? 
 
130 NATHAN THE WISE. 
 
 Daja. The truth which made me shed very 
 often bloody tears. No, he is not her 
 father 
 
 Temp. And he brought her up merely as his 
 daughter ? He educated a Christian child as a 
 Jewess ? 
 
 Daja. Most assuredly ! 
 
 Temp. She does not know by what parents 
 she was born ? She never learned it of him, 
 that she was born a Christian and not a Jewess? 
 
 Daja. Never ! 
 
 Temp. He did not only rear up the child in 
 such a delusion, but let the girl still remain in 
 this error ? 
 
 Daja. Alas ! 
 
 Temp. Nathan — How ? — The wise good Na- 
 than allowed himself to forge in such a manner 
 the voice of nature ? — To misguide so the emo- 
 tions of the heart which left to themselves 
 would take quite other ways ? 
 
 Daja. You have certainly intrusted some- 
 thing of importance to me, which can have con- 
 
NATHAN THE WISE. 131 
 
 sequences that confound me, on which I do 
 not know at present, what I shall do. — There- 
 fore give me time. — Therefore go ! He will 
 pass by here again. He might surprise us. 
 Go ! 
 
 Daja. I would be lost ! 
 
 Temp. I am not fit now to see him at all. 
 If you meet him, tell him only, that we will 
 meet each other at the Sultan's. 
 
 Daja. But do not betray yourself. — This 
 shall give a last pressure to the thing and shall 
 remove all your scruples concerning Recha! 
 But when you take her then to Europe, will 
 you not leave me behind ? 
 
 Temp. We will see ! Gro now, go 1 
 
132 NATHAN THE WISE. 
 
 ACT IV. 
 
 Scene I. — Scenery — On the crosswalk of the cloister. Lay 
 Brother, and soon after the Templar. 
 
 Lay B. Yes, yes ! The patriarch is right I 
 I did not succeed much in all the affairs with 
 which he commissioned me. — Why does he 
 charge me with such things ? I do not want 
 to be his mouthpiece. I will not persuade, will 
 not thrust my little nose in everything, will not 
 have my little hand in all. Did I quit the 
 world on account of myself, in order to tangle 
 myself deeply in it for others ? 
 
 Temp, (coming up to him hastily.) Dear 
 brother ! There you are. I have sought you a 
 great while. 
 
 LatB. Me, sir? 
 
 Temp. Do you not know me any more ? 
 
NATHAN THE WISE. 133 
 
 Lay B. Yet, yet! I only thought, that I 
 would never see you again in my whole life. I 
 hoped to (rod for it The good Grod knows, 
 how most reluctantly I did my errand to the 
 knight which I was obliged to do. Sir ! He 
 knows, whether I wished to be listened to 
 favorably by you ; knows how I was rejoiced 
 in heart, that you rejected openly all that is not 
 becoming a knight. Yet you are coming now ! 
 It has still produced now its effects ! 
 
 Temp. You know already why I am coming ? 
 I hardly know it myself. 
 
 Lay B. You have considered it now. You 
 found out that the patriarch is not so very 
 wrong after all, that by his offer may be gained 
 honor and money, that an enemy is an enemy, 
 even if he had been seven times our angel. 
 You weighed it in your mind maturely, and 
 you are coming and offer yourself again. — 0, 
 Ood ! 
 
 Temp. My dear pious man ! Be contented ! 
 I did not come on that account, and I will not 
 see the patriarch for that purpose. I think as 
 yet on this point as I thought before, and I 
 
134 NATHAN THE WISE. 
 
 would not for all the world lose the good opin- 
 ion which an upright, pious and good man 
 deigned to bestow upon rne. I come only to 
 ask the advice of the patriarch about a certain, 
 affair. 
 
 Lay B. You will take advice of the patri- 
 arch ? A Knight, shall ask a— jack-priest ? 
 (Looking timidly around about.) 
 
 Temp. Yes, — the affair is quite monkish. 
 
 Lay B. Yet the hedge-priest is never asking- 
 the knight, the affair may be ever so chivalrous. 
 
 Temp. Because he has the privilege of acting 
 wrong which one of our own rank does not envy 
 him very much. Certainly, if I had to act only 
 for myself and were merely accountable to 
 myself to what need I your patriarch ? But 
 certain affairs I would rather perform them 
 bad according to the will of others, than good 
 according to my own opinion. — Besides I. per- 
 ceive it perfectly well, that religion is also a 
 party affair and he who thinks himself even so 
 impartial about it, is nevertheless, taking un- 
 consciously the side of his own religion. This 
 
NATHAN TEE WISE. 135 
 
 being always the case, it will therefore be 
 right. 
 
 Lay B. I am rather silent to that ; because I 
 do not understand you correctly, sir. 
 
 Temp. And yet ! (let me see, what object 
 have I most in view, his authoritative sentence 
 or his advice ? a plain or an elaborate counsel ?) 
 I thank you brother, thank you for the hint 
 you gave me.— Why patriarch ? Be you my 
 patriarch ! I will rather ask the Christian in 
 the patriarch than the patriarch in the Chris- 
 tian. — The object is this 
 
 Lay B. No further, sir ! no further ! What 
 is the use of this ? Sir, you misjudge me. He 
 who knows much has much sorrow. I devoted 
 myself merely to one care. good ! Hear ! 
 Look ! It is fortunate for me, that he is coming 
 there himself. Wait here. He noticed you 
 already. 
 
 Scene II. — The Patriarch loith all his clerical pomp coming 
 up the crossvjay, and the former. 
 
 Temp. I would rather avoid him. — He is 
 
136 NATHAN THE WISE. 
 
 not my man ! — A fat, red friendly prelate j 
 And what pageantry ! 
 
 Lay B. You ought to see him when he is 
 betaking himself to the court. He is coming 
 now merely from visiting a sick person. 
 
 Temp. How must Saladin feel ashamed before 
 him. 
 
 Patriaech. (while approaching signs to the 
 lay-brother to come to him.) Here ! This is 
 surely the templar. What does he want ? 
 
 Lay B. I do not know. 
 
 Pat. (coming up to him ; while the lay 
 brother and retenue withdraw.) Well, Knight ! 
 I am very glad to see the brave young man ! — 
 Indeed, he is still very young ! With Grod's 
 help something can be made of him ! 
 
 Temp. Eeverend sir, scarcely more than he is 
 already, and more likely a little less. 
 
 Pat. At all events I wish, that such a pious 
 knight may long blossom and flourish for the 
 honor or benefit of our beloved Christendom 
 and the divine cause. He cannot fail of success, 
 
NATHAN THE WISE. 137 
 
 if only the young bravery will follow the 
 mature advice of old age ! How can I serve 
 you, sir ? 
 
 Temp. By the same, which my youth is want- 
 ing, by an advice. 
 
 Pat. With the greatest pleasure ! — The ad- 
 vice, however, must be accepted. 
 
 Temp. But not blindly ? 
 
 Pat. Who says that ? Certainly shall nobody 
 neglect to use his gift of God, the reason in the 
 proper place. But is everywhere its proper 
 place ? Oh, no ! For instance, if God grants 
 us to make us acquainted by one of his angels, 
 that is, by a servant of his word with a means 
 of promoting and strengthening the welfare of 
 the whole Christendom and benefit of the 
 church in a peculiar manner who dare to inves- 
 tigate then according to his reason the arbitrary 
 will of Him, who created reason ? Who dare 
 to scrutinize the eternal law of the glory of 
 heaven by petty rules of a vain honor? But 
 enough of that. Sir, about what is it, that 
 you require an advice from me at present ? 
 
138 NATHAN THE WISE. 
 
 Temp. Reverend father, supposing a Jew has 
 an only child — be it a girl — that he reared up 
 with the greatest care to everything which is 
 laudable and good, loving her more than his 
 life, and she is also attached to him with the 
 most pious affection, would one of ours be 
 secretly informed of it, that this girl is not the 
 daughter of the Jew, that he picked her up 
 somewhere, bought, stole her, — all you may 
 ever imagine, when in childhood. It is further 
 known, that the girl is a Christian child, and 
 was baptized. The Jew educated her a Jewess, 
 and wants her to remain merely as such and as 
 his daughter. Say, Reverend father, what shall 
 be done in this affair ? 
 
 Pat. I shudder ! But, sir, tell me first 
 whether such a case is a real fact or a hypothe- 
 sis. That is to say, whether you composed a 
 story or whether it has happened and it con- 
 tinues to happen. 
 
 Temp. I consider it all the same in order to 
 learn the opinion of your reverence. 
 
 Pat. The same ? There you see, sir, how 
 the proud human reason is liable to be mistaken 
 
NATHAN THE WISE. 139 
 
 in spiritual affairs. Nay ! If the related 
 story is a witty play, it is not worth while to 
 ponder it earnestly. Sir, concerning this I 
 refer you to the theatre where such pro and 
 con can be argued with great applause. But if 
 you do not mock me with a theatrical tale, if 
 this case be a real fact ; if this has happened 
 even in our diocese in our beloved city of Je- 
 rusalem ; yes, then — 
 
 Temp. And what then ? 
 
 Pat. Then a punishment must be quickly 
 inflicted upon the Jew for such a crime such a 
 vicious action as provided by the papal and im- 
 perial law. 
 
 Temp. So? 
 
 Pat. And indeed! the laws just mentioned 
 condemn any Jew who seduces a Christian to 
 apo stacy, to the faggot, to the stake. 
 
 Temp. So? 
 
 'Pat. And the more so a Jew who is guilty 
 of taking away by force a Christian child from 
 the covenant of baptism ! Because is not vio- 
 lence all which any man does to children ? To 
 
140 ' NATHAN THE WISE. 
 
 which I have to add ! except that which the 
 church may do to children. 
 
 Temp. But if the Jew had not shown any 
 mercy upon the child perhaps it would have 
 perished in misery ? 
 
 Fat. That is nothing ! The Jew must be 
 burnt. It is much better, if the child were 
 perished here in misery than being thus rescued 
 to its eternal perdition. — Besides what right 
 has the Jew to encroach upon God's office ? A 
 person whom God will save, he can do it with- 
 out him. 
 
 Temp. And 1 should think that even in spite 
 of him — he will save her soul. 
 
 Pat. That is nothing. The Jew must be 
 burnt. 
 
 Temp. That grieves me to the heart ! Espe- 
 cially as it is said, that he let the girl neither 
 grow up in his faith nor in any other, but in- 
 structed her in the knowledge of God not more 
 and not less than it is reasonable to believe. 
 
 Pat. That is nothing ! The Jew must be 
 burnt Yes, on account of this 
 
NATHAN THE WISE. 141 
 
 alone he deserved already to be burnt three 
 times ! — What ? To let a child grow up with- 
 out any faith ? — How ? Not to teach a child at 
 all the great duty to believe ? This is too bad I 
 Knight, I am surprised, you yourself .... 
 
 Temp. Eeverend sir, as for the rest, please 
 God, at confession. (He is about to go.) 
 
 Pat. What ? Not to answer me, when called 
 upon ? Not to give me the name of the Jew, 
 the wicked wretch ? Not to bring him to me 
 to this place ? 0, I know to rind easily a 
 remedy for that ! I will go immediately to the 
 Sultan. Saladin must protect us according to 
 the capitulation which he confirmed by an 
 oath ; he must defend all our rights and teach- 
 ings, that we may ever count as belonging to 
 our most holy religion. Thank God ! We 
 have the original document We have it under 
 his hand and seal. We ! — I give him easily to 
 understand how dangerous it is for the empire 
 to believe nothing. All civil bonds are dis- 
 solved, broken, when men dare not believe. — - 
 Away, away with such a mischievous act ! . . . 
 
 Temp. It is a great pity, that I have not 
 
142 NATHAN THE WISH. 
 
 much more leisure to enjoy your excellent 
 sermon. I was called for by Saladin. 
 
 Pat. Yes? — Well so — Indeed — then . . . 
 
 Temp. If it pleases your reverence, I will 
 prepare the Sultan ! 
 
 Pat. O, oh ! I know, you found favor in 
 the eyes of Saladin ! I entreat you to remem- 
 ber me there to my advantage. I am merely 
 driven by a zeal for God's cause. — And in 
 doing too much, I do it for him. Please, sir, 
 consider this ! — And is it not so knight ? The 
 story of the Jew you have mentioned before us 
 was but a problem ? — that is to say — 
 
 Temp. A problem. (Exit.) 
 
 P^t. (I must try, hovever, to sift it to the 
 bottom. This is again a commission for Bona- 
 fides.) Here, my son ! (He is speaking to the 
 Lay brother when going out.) 
 
 Scene III. — Scenery : — A room in the palace of Saladin 
 where slaves are carrying in many bags being placed- together 
 on the floor. Saladin and soon after Sittah. 
 
 Sal. (coming up to it.) Indeed there is still 
 no end ! — Is much of it remained back ? 
 
NATHAN THE WISE. 143 
 
 A Slave. Nearly a half. 
 
 Sal. Carry the rest then to Sittah. — And 
 where does Al Han stay ? This here shall Al 
 Han take with him. Or shall I rather send it to 
 my father ? Here it is easily spent. — It is 
 true, that one becomes finally hard-hearted. 
 And now most assuredly a man shall have to 
 try all his wits to squeeze much out of me. At 
 least until the money from Egypt is received 
 here, poverty may see how to get along. If 
 the presents at the grave would only be con- 
 tinued ! If the Christian pilgrims need not to 
 leave empty handed ! If only 
 
 Sit. What is that for? What is the good of 
 the money at my house ? 
 
 Take out of it the amount of your debt, and 
 if anything is left lay it in store. 
 
 Sit. Is Nathan not here yet with the tem- 
 plar ? 
 
 Sal. He is searching for him in every 
 corner. 
 
 Sit. Look, what I found here, while hand- 
 
144 NATHAUT THE WISE. 
 
 ling my old jewelry (showing him a little pic- 
 ture.) 
 
 Sal. Ho ! my brother ! This is he ! This is 
 he ! — Was he ! Was he ! Ah, ah ! brave 
 dear boy, that I lost thee so early ! How 
 much could I undertake with thee and on thy 
 side ! — Sittah, let me have this picture 1 I know 
 it already. He gave it to your older sister to 
 his Lilla, when one morning she could not tear 
 herself from him. It was the last time that he 
 rode out. — Oh, I let him ride, and alone ! Oh, 
 Lilla died with grief, and I forgave me never, 
 that I let him ride all alone. — He never re- 
 turned ! 
 
 Sit. The poor brother ! 
 
 Sal. Well, let that pass ! All of us wiil 
 once remain away ! — Who knows it ? It is 
 not death alone, that hinders a young man of 
 his rank to attain his design. He has many 
 more enemies, and the strongest sinks often 
 like the weakest ! Be with him as it may ! I 
 must compare his pictures with the features of 
 the young templar. I must see how much my 
 fancy deceived me. 
 
NATHAN THE WISE. 145 
 
 Sit. I bring it on that account ; but give it 
 to me. 0, give it ! I will tell you so much now, 
 that a woman's eye understands it best. (Sala- 
 din to an entering doorkeeper.) Who is 
 there ? — the templar. — Let him come in ! 
 
 Sit. In order not to disturb you, and not to 
 confound him by my curiosity — (She seats 
 herself on a sofa, and draws a veil over her 
 face.) 
 
 Sal. Well so, well ! And now the so and of 
 his voice ! How will that be ! The sound of 
 Assad's voice is sleeping in my soul ! 
 
 Scene IV. — The Templar and Saladin. 
 
 Temp. I your prisoner, Saladin .... 
 
 Sal. My prisoner ? To whom I gave quar- 
 ters would I not give him liberty too ? 
 
 Temp. That, which behooves you to do is 
 becoming me to hear first, and not to anticipate. 
 But, Sultan, to give thanks, and to make espe- 
 cial acknowledgment for my life, that does 
 10 
 
146 NATHAN THE WISE. 
 
 not harmonize with my order nor with my char- 
 acter. It is wholly at your service. 
 
 Sal. Bo not use it against me. To get a 
 pair hands more I would not grudge my enemy 
 but such a heart more I can hardly bear it. I 
 am not deceived in you, brave young man! 
 You are my very Assad in body and soul. 
 Well ! I could ask you, where have you been 
 all the time ? In what cave did you sleep ? In 
 what Ginnistan and by what kindly power was 
 this flower kept so fresh all the time ? Look 
 here! I would like to remind you of that 
 which we have accomplished together here and 
 there. I would quarrel with you, that you 
 have still concealed one thing from me suppres- 
 sing one adventure. — Yes, I could all that, 
 when I see only you and not also me. Now 
 that may be ; yet of this pleasing revery is so 
 much true, that in my Autumn an Assad shall 
 flourish for me again. — Are you satisfied with 
 that, Knight ? 
 
 Temp. All that proceeds from you, be it 
 whatever it may, has lain as a wish in my soul. 
 
 Sal. Let us try that forthwith. Will you 
 abide with me ? Will you be about my person ? 
 
NATHAN THE WISH. 147 
 
 As Christian as Mussulman, it is one and the 
 same to me. In a white cloak or in a Janmier- 
 lonk, in a turban or beaver as you like it. It is 
 :all the same to me ! I never wished for, that 
 one and the same bark shall grow around every 
 tree. 
 
 Temp. Else you were hardly that which you 
 are : the hero who would rather like to be God's 
 gardener. 
 
 Sal. Well then, if you do not think worse of 
 me, we almost agree. 
 
 Temp. Quite ! 
 
 Sal. (offering to him his hand.) On your 
 word? 
 
 Temp. A man of his word ! You receive by 
 that more than you could take from me. I am 
 wholly yours ! 
 
 Sal. Too much profit for one day ! too 
 much ! — Did not he come with you ? 
 
 Temp. Who? 
 
 Sal. Nathan. 
 
148 NATHAN THE WISE. 
 
 Temp, (frosty.) No. I came alone. 
 
 Sal. What a deed accomplished by yout 
 And what a wise luck, that such a deed turned 
 out for the best of such a man ! 
 
 Temp. Yes, yes ! 
 
 Sal. So chilly ? No, young man ! If Grod 
 wrought something good by us, we must not 
 remain so cold ! And even out of modesty we 
 shall not be willing to appear so. 
 
 Temp. That everything in this world has so 
 many sides ! — It cannot be imagined very often 
 how they fit together ! 
 
 Sal. Stick always to the best, and praise 
 Grod ! Who knows how they fit together. But 
 young man, if you should be so humorous, I 
 have to observe caution in treating you. Alas I 
 I am such a thing of many sides which might 
 not always seem to fit very well. 
 
 Temp. This grieves me! For suspicion is 
 usually very little my fault. — 
 
 Sal. Well, with whom are you displeased? 
 It seemed to me with Nathan. How ? To 
 
NATHAN TEE WISE. 149 
 
 •conceive a suspicion of Nathan ? You ? — 
 Speak out ! Speak ! Come, give me the first 
 proof of the confidence which you place in me. 
 
 Temp. I have nothing against Nathan. I 
 am vexed only at myself. 
 
 Sal. And about what ? 
 
 Temp. That I have dreamed a Jew could 
 ever forget to be a Jew, that I dreamed this 
 when in a waking state. 
 
 Sal. Speak out this waking dream ! 
 
 Temp. You know about the daughter of Na- 
 than, Sultan. All that which I did for her I 
 did it ; because I did it. Too proud to earn 
 thanks where I did not sow them, I declined 
 from day to day to see her again. The father 
 was absent, he came back, heard of It, searched 
 for me, he thanked me, and wished, that I may 
 like his daughter, speaks of prospect, speaks of 
 a delightful future. Now I let myself be gulled, 
 came, saw and found, indeed a girl .... 
 Oh, I feel ashamed Sultan ! 
 
 Sal. You are ashamed that a Jewish girl 
 made an impression on you ? Surely not ! 
 
150 NATHAN THE WISH. 
 
 Temp. That my rash heart on account of the 
 sweet talk of the father made so little resist- 
 ance to that impression ! I poor wretch ! I 
 jumped a second time into the fire. — For now I 
 courted and was despised. — 
 
 Sal. Despised ? 
 
 Temp. The prudent father did not refuse her 
 to me positively ; but must first make inquiries 
 and consider it. Certainly ! Did not I do the 
 same? Did not I first inquire and consider, 
 when she was screaming in the house on fire ? — 
 Indeed ! By God ! It is a very fine thing to- 
 be so wise so prudent ! 
 
 Sal. Well, well! Show some indulgence 
 toward the old man ! How long shall his refu- 
 sal last ? Would he ask, that you shall first be- 
 come a Jew ? 
 
 Temp. Who knows it ? 
 
 Sal. Who knows it ? He who knows this 
 Nathan much better. 
 
 Temp. The superstition in which we are 
 grown up even when perceived by us, does not 
 
NATHAN THE WISE. 151 
 
 lose its influence on us. — Not all who are scof- 
 fing at their chains are free. 
 
 Sal. It is a very correct remark but Nathan 
 indeed Nathan 
 
 Temp. The worst of all superstitions is to 
 consider his own for the most tolerable. 
 
 Sal. It may be! But Nathan . . . . 
 
 Temp. In whom alone the dim sighted hu- 
 manity shall confide until it get used to a more 
 brighter day of truth ; in whom alone . . . 
 
 Sal. Well ! But Nathan ! This weakness 
 fell not to Nathan's share. 
 
 Temp. I thought so too ! If 
 
 nevertheless this paragon of .all men would be 
 such a mean Jew, that he tries to get some 
 Christian children to educate them as Jews : — 
 how then ? 
 
 Sal. Who relates such a thing on him ? 
 
 Temp. The girl herself by whom he succeeded 
 to entice me and by the hope he was making 
 me for her, he seemed as if he would like to 
 pay me for that which I should not have done 
 for her gratis. This very girl is — not his 
 
152 NATHAN THE WISE. 
 
 daughter. It is a Christian child thrown 
 about. 
 
 Sal. And would nevertheless not give her 
 to ypu ? 
 
 Temp, (passionately.) He may want or not ! 
 He is detected. The tolerant talker is now 
 detected. I know how to manage it, that some 
 hounds will be after this Jewish wolf assuming 
 philosophically a sheepskin and they shall 
 worry him. 
 
 Sal. (earnestly.) Keep yourself quiet Chris- 
 tian ! 
 
 Temp. What ? Keep quiet Christian ! — If a 
 Jew and Mussulman persist in being a Jew and 
 Mussulman, shall the Christian alone not be 
 allowed to act the part of a Christian ! . 
 
 Sal. (still more earnestly.) Be tranquil 
 Christian ! 
 
 Temp, (composed.) I feel the whole burden of 
 reproach which Saladin compressed in the two 
 syllables Christian ! I would like to know 
 how Assad — Assad had conducted himself, were 
 he in my place ? 
 
NATHAN THE WISE. 153 
 
 Sal. Not much better ! — Probably quite so 
 boisterous ! — But who taught you already to 
 bribe me with one word, exactly like him ? To 
 be sure, if it be so as you tell me, I can hardly 
 understand Nathan. But he is my friend, and 
 all of my friends must not quarrel with each 
 other. Take an advice. G-o considerately! 
 Do not abandon him to the fanatics of your 
 mob ! Keep secret that which your clergy 
 would explain to me in order to be revenged 
 on him. Be not a Christian in defiance of a 
 Jew or of a Mussulman ! 
 
 Temp. It were nearly too late ! Thanks be 
 to the bloodiness of the patriarch, that I had 
 an abhorrence of becoming his tool. 
 
 Sal. How ? You saw the patriarah before 
 you came to me ? 
 
 Temp. In the storm of passion, in the whirl- 
 wind of irresolution ! — Forgive me ! I fear that 
 you will not recognize further anything of your 
 Assad in me. 
 
 Sal. Were it not this very fear ! It seems 
 to me I know very well from what faults our 
 virtue rises. Cultivate it further, and they 
 
154 NATHAN THE WISE. 
 
 shall not prejudice me against you. But go ! 
 Search for Nathan as he searched for you,^and 
 bring him here. I will make you come to 
 an agreement. If you think only of getting 
 the girl, be quiet. She is yours ! I will make 
 Nathan atone for it, that he dared to bring up 
 a Christian child without using any pork ! Go ! 
 (Exit the Templar and Sittah leaves the sofa.) 
 
 Scene V. — Saladin and Sittah. 
 
 Sit. It is quite strange ! 
 
 Sal. Well, Sittah ? Must not my Assad 
 have been a brave and handsome young man ? 
 
 Sit. If he was so, and not rather the Tern- 
 plar was .sitting for the picture ! But how 
 could you forget to inquire of him about his 
 parents ? 
 
 Sal. Indeed ! especially for his mother ? 
 Whether his mother has ever been in this coun- 
 try ? Is it not so ? 
 
 Sit. You shall pay for it ! 
 
 Sal. 0, nothing is more possible ! For 
 
NATHAN THE WISE. 155 
 
 Assad was "so very welcome to all beautiful 
 Christian ladies, and he was so mad after 
 charming Christian ladies that once was a 
 report rife, well, well : one does not like to 
 speak of it — Enough I have him back, I will 
 have him back again with all the faults and 
 vagaries of his sentimental heart ! 0, Nathan 
 must give him that girl. Do not you think so ? 
 
 Sit. He shall give her to him ? Leave her 
 to him ! 
 
 Sal. Certainly ! What right has Nathan on 
 her, when he is not her father ? He who 
 saved her life, is enteringjupon the rights of 
 him, — who gave it her. 
 
 Sit. How, Saladin? Would you not take 
 the girl immediately into your house and de- 
 prive the illegal possessor of her ? 
 
 Sal. Is that necessary ? 
 
 Sit. Indeed not. The mere curiosity alone 
 urged me to give you such advice. Because I 
 am too anxious to know of certain men, if pos- 
 sible, with what girl they can fall in love. 
 
 Sal. Now send for her. 
 
156 NATHAN THE WISE. 
 
 Sit. May I, brother ? 
 
 Sal. But be very circumspect towards Na- 
 than ! He must think by no means, that one 
 wishes to separate him from her by force. 
 
 Sit. Do not be uneasy on that score. 
 
 Sal. And I, I must see myself, where Al 
 flan tarries so long. 
 
 Scene VI. — Scenery : — The vestibule in Nathan's house 
 situated towards the palm-trees as it is in the first scene of first 
 act. A part of the goods and valuable things therein men- 
 tioned are lying about. Nathan and Daja. 
 
 Daja. 0, all excellent ! all well selected I 
 0, all as you can only give it. Where is the 
 silver stuff with the golden branch work made ? 
 What is the price of it ? That is which I call 
 a wedding dress. Even a queen would wish 
 for no better. 
 
 Nat. Wedding gown ? Why just a wedding 
 gown ? 
 
 Daja. Well ! You did not certainly think 
 of it, when you bought it. But, indeed, Na- 
 
NATHAN THE WISE. 15T 
 
 than, it must be that and no other one ! It is 
 for a nuptual dress, as if it had been ordered. 
 The white ground an emblem of innocence, and 
 gold rivers which serpentize through every- 
 where, an emblem of wealth. Do you see ? 
 Most delightful. 
 
 Nat. Wherefore are you so vastly witty ? 
 Whose wedding dress are you allegorizing so 
 highly learned ? Are you a bride ? 
 
 Daja. I? 
 
 Nat. Well, who else ? 
 
 Daja. I? Good God! 
 
 Nat. Who else ? Well, of whose wedding 
 dress do you talk about ? This is all yours 
 and belongs to noboby else. 
 
 Daja. Is mine ? Shall be mine ? Is nothing 
 there for Recha ? 
 
 Nat. What I brought for Recha lies in 
 another bale. Make haste ! Take away ! 
 Pack up your things ! 
 
 Daja. Tempter ! No, were they even all the 
 valuable things of the whole world ! I would 
 
158 NATHAN THE WISE. 
 
 not touch them ! If you do not swear now, to 
 make use of the opportunity which heaven will 
 not send you again. 
 
 1ST at. Use? of what? Opportunity? to what? 
 
 Daja. do not make yourself so strange ! 
 In sport, the Templar loves Eecha. Give her 
 to him. Your sin which I cannot conceal any 
 longer will end. The girl will then be again 
 among Christians; become again that which 
 she is, and is what she was, and you are not 
 heaping coals of fire on your head in all the 
 favors you show to us, and for which we cannot 
 be thankful enough to you. 
 
 Nat. Is not that the old tune of the lyre 
 again ? It has put on a new string which, I 
 think, will neither be in tune nor last at all. 
 
 Daja. How so ? 
 
 Nat. I am very well pleased with the Tem- 
 plar and would more rejoice at his getting 
 Recha than anybody else in the whole world. 
 But now have patience. 
 
 Daja. Patience ? Is it not now the tune of 
 the old lyre ? 
 
NATHAN THE WISE. 159 
 
 Nat. Be patient* only for a few days more ! 
 Look here ! Who is coming there ? A lay- 
 brother ? Go, ask him, what he wants. 
 
 Daja. What shall he want ? (she approaches 
 him and is asking.) 
 
 Nat. Give him before he begs. (Could I only 
 know how to get at the Templar without tell- 
 ing him the cause of my curiosity ! Because if 
 I tell it to him and the suspicion is without 
 any foundation, I would have staked in vain 
 the honor of his father.) What is it ? 
 
 Daja. He likes to see you. 
 
 Nat. Well, let him come in, and leave me 
 for a while. 
 
 Scene VII. — Nathan and the Lay Brother. 
 
 Nat. (I wish very much to remain Recha's 
 father ! — But can I not remain it, even if they 
 cease to call me so ? — She, yes, she will never- 
 theless call me father, when perceiving how I 
 like it to be that) Go ! — What are your com- 
 mands, pious brother ? — 
 
160 NATHAN THE WISE. 
 
 Lay B. Not much Mr. Nathan. I am glad to 
 see you still in good health. 
 
 Nat. Do you know me ? 
 
 Lay B. Well ! Who would not know you ? 
 You put your name into the hands of many a 
 man. It stands in mine also since many years* 
 
 Nat. (feeling for his purse.) Come, brother, 
 come let me renew it again. 
 
 Lay B. Thank you. I would deprive the 
 poorer of it. I take nothing. — Allow me only 
 to revive a little my name ; because I can boast 
 of my having laid also something in your 
 hand, that was not which should be slighted. 
 
 Nat. Excuse ! — I am ashamed. — Tell me 
 what? — and accept from me seven times the 
 value of that as atonement for it. 
 
 Lay B. But before all things, listen to me 
 how I was first to-day reminded of the pledge 
 I gave you. 
 
 Nat. You intrusted me with a pledge ? 
 
 Lay B. As I was sitting as hermit at Quar- 
 antana not far off from Jericho, there came an 
 
NATHAN THE WISE. 161 
 
 Arab troop of robbers, pulled down my little 
 house of worship and my cell, and dragged me 
 away with them. It was lucky for me, that I 
 escaped, and fled hither to the patriarch to 
 request him for another little place where I 
 might worship my Grod in solitude, until I die in 
 his grace. 
 
 Nat. I am in great haste, dear brother, make 
 short work of it. The pledge ! The pledge 
 you have intrusted to me ! 
 
 Lay B. Mr. Nathan, directly !— Well the 
 patriarch promised to give me a hermitage at 
 Tabor as soon as one shall become vacant, and 
 bade me stay in the cloister in the meanwhile 
 as a lay-brother. Mr. Nathan, there I am now 
 and a hundred times in a day I am longing for 
 Tabor ; because the patriarch employs me to 
 perform things at which I am much disgusted. 
 For instance. 
 
 Nat. I pray you, be quick ! 
 
 Lay B. Well, now it is coming. Somebody 
 whispered to-day in his ear that a Jew living 
 somewhere in the neighborhood educates a 
 Christian child as his daughter. 
 11 
 
162 NATHAN THE WISE. 
 
 Nat. (perplexed.) How ? 
 
 Lay B. Hear me to the end ! Charging- 
 me to trace up that Jew immediately, if possi- 
 ble, and grew very angry at such an iniquity, 
 considering it as a sin committed against the 
 holy spirit, that means a sin which is the great- 
 est sin of all sins ; but, thank God, that we 
 really do not know in what it consists. — There 
 my conscience suddenly awakened and it came 
 into my mind, that I myself could have given 
 an occasion for this unpardonable great sin a 
 long time ago. — Tell me ! Did not a groom 
 bring you a little daughter of a few weeks old 
 about eighteen years ago ? 
 
 Nat. How that? Well, yes — certainly — 
 
 Lay B. Why, look at me well ! That groom 
 was I ! 
 
 Nat. Was you? 
 
 Lay B. The gentleman, from whom I brought 
 it, was, if I am right, Mr. von Filneck — Wolf 
 von Filneck ! 
 
 Nat. Exactly ! 
 
 Lay B. As the mother died not long ago, and 
 
NATHAN THE WISE. 163 
 
 the father, I think, had suddenly to throw him- 
 self into Gazza, where the little worm could not 
 follow him, he sent it to you. And did not we 
 meet you at Darun ? 
 
 Nat. You are very right. 
 
 Lay B. It were no wonder, if iny memory 
 would deceive me. I had so many brave mas- 
 ters and this I only served for a very short 
 time. He fell soon after near Askalon. He 
 was, indeed, a gentleman. 
 
 Nat. Yes ! Yes ! I owe him much for his 
 kindness. He rescued me more than once from 
 the sword ! 
 
 Lay B. good ! The more so you must 
 have protected his little daughter. 
 
 Nat. You may be assured of that. 
 
 Lay. B Well, where is she now ? She did 
 not die already ? Do not let her be dead. — If 
 only nobody knows anything about it, then it is 
 all right — 
 
 Nat. Is it ? 
 
 Lay B. Nathan, confide in me ! " Because 
 
164 NA THA N THE WISE. 
 
 look here, I think thus ! If near on the good 
 which I intend to perform borders anything 
 that is very bad, I will rather not do the good ; 
 for we know the bad quite positively, but not 
 so the good. Indeed ! It was very natural, if 
 you should educate the Christian's little daugh- 
 ter well to bring her up as your own. This 
 you have done with love and fidelity, and shall 
 be rewarded in such a manner ? This I cannot 
 comprehend. Certainly ! You would have 
 acted much wiser, if you had brought up the 
 Christian by another Christian ! but in this way 
 you would not have been so attached to the 
 little child of your friend. And children of 
 such a tender age need love more than Chris- 
 tianity, and were it even that of a wild beast. 
 It is always time enough to embrace Christian- 
 ity. When the girl has grown up sound and 
 pious before your eyes, then she remained in the 
 sight of Grod that which she was. And is not 
 the whole Christianity based on Judaism ? It 
 provoked me very often and I wept intensely, 
 that Christians could so far forget themselves, 
 that our Lord was himself a Jew. 
 
 ISTat. You, dear brother, must be my de- 
 fender when hatred and hypocrisy should arise 
 
NATHAN THE WISH. 16 5 
 
 against me — on account of a deed — 0, on 
 account of a deed ! You only ought to 
 know it! But take it into your grave! I 
 was not yet tempted by vanity to relate it to 
 anybody. I tell it only to you, I communicate 
 it tb you only on account of your pious sim- 
 plicity. Because it alone understands what 
 things a pious man is capable to undertake. ' 
 
 Lay B. You are affected and your eyes are 
 filled with tears. 
 
 Nat. You and the child met me at Darun. 
 But you do not know it, that the Christians, 
 just a few days before had murdered all the 
 Jews and even women and children in the city 
 of Gath ; you do not know it that among them 
 were my wife and seven hopeful boys, whom I 
 brought into the house of my brother to take 
 refuge : but where they all had to perish to- 
 gether in the flames. 
 
 Lal B. 0, All-righteous God ! 
 
 Nat. When you came I have lain prostrated 
 in dust and ashes before God three days and 
 nights and wept bitterly. Wept? I have 
 moreover contended against God, vexed also 
 
166 NATHAN TEE WISE. 
 
 angry at Him, raged, cursed myself and the - 
 whole world and swore to Christendom irre- 
 concilable revenge. — 
 
 Lay B. 0, I believe you, indeed ! 
 
 Nat. And when my reason returned again 
 by degrees, it said with a soft voice : And yet 
 there is a Grod ! That was nevertheless His 
 decree ! Well ! Come on then ! do that which 
 you conceived long ago. It is surely not more 
 difficult to exercise than to comprehend, if you 
 are only willing to do so. Arise ! I arose and . 
 cried to Grod ! I will if thou wilt, that I shall 
 be willing ! In the meanwhile you dismounted 
 from a horse and gave me the child which was 
 wrapt in your cloak. What you said to me 
 and what I said to you, I do not remember any 
 more. But so much I recollect, that I took 
 the child, carried it to my room and laid it 
 upon my couch, kissed it heartily and fell on 
 my knees and sobbed forth : I lost seven but 
 have now one again ! 
 
 Lay B. Nathan ! Nathan ! You are a 
 Christian ! — By Grod you are a Christian. There 
 was never a better one. 
 
NATHAN TEE WISE. 167 
 
 Nat. It is well for us, that just the same that 
 makes me a Christian in your opinion makes 
 jou a Jew according to my views. — But let us 
 not soften each other any longer. It needs 
 here action ! Although a sevenfold love binds 
 me to this single foreign girl and the thought is 
 killing me, that I shall lose with her my seven 
 sons anew, if Providence reclaims her from me 
 — I obey. 
 
 Lay B. That is entirely so ! I considered it 
 and wanted to advise you in the same way. 
 But your good spirit had thus counseled you 
 already. 
 
 Nat. Not everybody, however, must think 
 that he can tear her from me ! 
 
 Lay B. No! Certainly not! 
 
 Nat. He who has no greater claims on her 
 than I, he must have at least former ones. — 
 
 Lay B. Certainly ! 
 
 Nat. Which are due to him by nature and 
 blood. 
 
 Lay B. JThis is exactly my opinion ! 
 
168 NATHAN THE WISE. 
 
 Nat. Therefore give me quickly the name of 
 any person that is related to her as brother or 
 uncle as cousin or any other relative and 
 I will not detain her from him. She was crea- 
 ted and brought up to become an ornament of 
 any house and any creed. I hope, that you 
 know more about this your master and his peo- 
 ple, more than I do. 
 
 Lay B. Well, dear Nathan, I know hardly 
 anything of that! Because you have heard 
 already, that I have been with him only for a 
 very short time. 
 
 Nat. Do not you kDow at least of what 
 family the mother was ? Did she descend from 
 the Stauffeu ? 
 
 Lay B. It may be ! — Yes, I think so. 
 
 Nat. Was not her brother Conrad von 
 Stauffen ? — Was not he a templar ? " 
 
 Lay B. If I am not mistaken, he was. But 
 hold on ! I recollect just now, that I have still 
 a little book of the late master. I pulled it 
 out from his inside pocket, when we buried him 
 
 at Askelon, 4 
 
NATHAN THE WISE. 169 
 
 Nat. Well? 
 
 Lay B. There are some prayers in it. We 
 call it breviary. That I thought, can be of 
 some use to a Christian fellow. Certainly not 
 to me ; because I cannot read. — 
 
 Nat. No matter ! — Now to the point. 
 
 Lay B. This little book, contains, as people 
 tell me, in the front and at the end a register of 
 all the relatives of him and her written with 
 my master's own hand. 
 
 Nat. 0, this is very agreeable to me ! Go ! 
 Run ! Get me that little book. Make haste ! 
 I will outweigh it in gold and give you also a 
 thousand thanks ! Hurry, run quick ! 
 
 Lay B. With the greatest pleasure ! But 
 all that my master wrote there is, in the Arabian 
 language. (Exit.) 
 
 Nat. It is all the same ! Let me only have 
 it ! God ! If I could still retain this girl with 
 me and win by her such a son-in-law — it will 
 hardly be so ! — Well, turn out as it may ! — But 
 who was it that denounced such a thing to the 
 patriarch ? I must" not forget to inquire about 
 that. — Should it come from Daja ? 
 
170 NATHAN THE WISH. 
 
 Scene VIII. — Daja (in hasie and embarrassed.) 
 
 Daja. Think only, Nathan ! 
 
 Nat. What? 
 
 Daja. The poor child was very much alarm- 
 ed at that ! There sends 
 
 Nat. The patriarch ? 
 
 Daja. The Sultan's sister, princess Sit- 
 tah 
 
 Nat. Not the patriarch ? 
 
 Daja. No, Sittah ! — Do not you hear ? — 
 Princess Sittah sends for her. 
 
 Nat. For whom ? For Recha ? Sittah 
 sends for Recha ? Well, if Sittah sends for 
 her and not the patriarch 
 
 Daja. How do you come to speak of that 
 man? 
 
 Nat. Did not you hear anything of him 
 lately ? Surely not ? Have you apprised him 
 of nothing ? 
 
 Daja. I? Him? 
 
NATHAN THE WISE. 171 
 
 Nat. Where are the messengers ? 
 
 Daja. In the front part of the house. 
 
 Nat. For the sake of precaution I will 
 speak with them myself. Come ! — If only the 
 patriarch would not have his hand in this affairs 
 (Exit.) 
 
 Daja. And I — I am afraid of quite another 
 thing. I am sure, the single reputed daughter 
 of a rich Jew would not be bad for a Mussul- 
 man after all. Huzza ! The Templar lost her. 
 He cannot get her, if I would not try to take 
 a second step and reveal it to herself, who she 
 is. Never mind ! Let me use for that purpose 
 the first moment when I am alone with her. 
 And that will be when I perhaps accompany 
 her. Such a first hint can at least not hurt on 
 the way. Yes, yes ! Cheer up ! Now or 
 never I Cheer up ! (after him.) 
 
172 NATHAN THE WISE. 
 
 ACT Y. 
 
 Scene I. — Scenery : — A room in the palace of Saladin, into 
 which the bags with money were carried and are still to be seen 
 Saladin and soon after several Mamelukes. 
 
 Sal. (when entering.) There lays yet the 
 money and nobody can find out the Dervise who 
 is probably sitting somewhere at the chessboard 
 that makes him forget himself and why not 
 also me ? — But patience ! What is the matter ? 
 
 A Mam. Good news, Sultan ! Much joy, 
 Sultan ! The caravan of Kahira is coming 
 with a septenual tribute from the rich Nile. 
 
 Sal. Yery good, Ibrahim. You are indeed 
 a welcome messenger to me ! 0, at last ! at 
 last ! My thanks for your good news ! 
 
NATHAN THE WISE. 173 
 
 Mam. (waiting.) Well, let me have them ! 
 
 Sal. What are you waiting for ? — You may 
 go. 
 
 Mam. Nothing else for the welcome messen- 
 ger ? 
 
 Sal. What else ? 
 
 Mam. Is no fee paid to the good carrier ? I 
 am then the first whom Saladin has finally 
 learned to pay with words ! — It is also a glory ! 
 ■ — I am the first with whom he dealt in a nig- 
 gardly manner. 
 
 Sal. Take there one bag with money. 
 
 Mam. Not now even if you would give me 
 all as a present. 
 
 Sal. Defiance ! — Come here ! There you 
 shall have two. — In earnest ? He goes ? Will 
 he outvie me in generosity ? For indeed ! It 
 must be harder for him to refuse than it is for 
 me to give. — Ibrahim ! — What idea comes into 
 my mind, that I wish to become suddenly quite 
 another person so shortly before my end ? Will 
 Saladin not die as Saladin ? — Then he ought 
 not to have lived as Saladin. 
 
174 NATHAN THE WISE. 
 
 2d Mam. Now, Saladin ! 
 
 Sal. If you come to inform me . ... 
 
 2d. Mam. That the transport from Egypt has- 
 arrived. 
 
 Sal. I know it already. 
 
 2d Mam. I am very sorry I came too late. 
 
 Sal. Why too late? — There take for your 
 good will one or two bags with money. 
 
 2d Mam. Say three. 
 
 Sal. Yes, if you can count them ! — So take 
 them. 
 
 2d Mam. There will come a third one, — if 
 he will be able to come. 
 
 Sal. How is that ? 
 
 2d Mam. Well ! he has broken his neck* 
 Because as soon as we three have been assured 
 of the arrival of the transport every one dashed 
 forward. The first fell off his horse and thus 
 I outrun him and had the start of him until we 
 arrived in the city, where Ibrahim, the parasite, 
 knows much better the* streets — than I do. 
 
NATHAN THE WISH. 175 
 
 Sal. the man who fell ! A friend of mine 
 was he who fell ! — Eide fast to meet him ! 
 
 2d Mam. I will do that, and if he is alive, he 
 shall have half of these bags with money. 
 (Exit.) 
 
 Sal. Look here, what a good and noble fel- 
 low is that ! — Who can boast of such Mame- 
 lukes ? And is not allowed to me to think, 
 that my example helped to mould them ? — 
 Away with such a thought to accustom them at 
 last to any other ! 
 
 3d Mam. Sultan 
 
 Sal. Was it you who fell off the horse ? 
 
 3d Mam. No, I announce only that Emir 
 Mansor the leader of the caravan, is just dis- 
 mounting 
 
 Sal. Let him come in ! quick ! There he 
 is!— 
 
 Scene II. — Emir Mansor and Saladin. 
 
 Sal. Welcome, Emir ! Well how was your 
 
176 FATHA24 THE WISE. 
 
 journey? — Mansor, Mansor! You kept us 
 waiting very long. 
 
 Mansor. This letter will inform you, what 
 tumult had to be put down first in Thebais by ' 
 your Abulkassem, before we could venture to 
 set out. We hastened our traveling as quick 
 as possible. 
 
 Sal. I believe you ! — Dear Mansor, let a 
 fresh, escort attend you immediately, and I hope 
 that you will do so cheerfully ; for you must go 
 at once still farther. You have to carry the 
 most part of this money to my father on the 
 mount of Libanon. 
 
 Mansor. Gladly ! with pleasure ! 
 
 Sal. Be careful, that, your guard be not too 
 weak. It is not very safe any more around 
 about the Libanon. Did not you hear it? 
 The templars are again very active. Be upon 
 your guard ! — Come along ! Where halts the 
 transport ? I like to see it and I will manage 
 everything myself. — Then to Sittah! 
 
NATHAN THE WISE. 177 
 
 Scene III. — Scenery : — The palm-trees before Nathan's 
 house. The Templar going vp and down. 
 
 Temp. I will not go into the house. — He will 
 show himself at last !— They noticed me for- 
 merly so soon, and so cheerfully ! — I will live 
 to see, that he will deprecate my steady walks 
 before his house. Era ! But I am too much 
 vexed at him ! What was it that so provoked 
 me against him ? Why ! he said, that he re- 
 fuses me nothing as yet. And Saladin took it 
 upon himself to induce him to do it. How ? 
 Is really the Christian seated deeper in my 
 heart than the Jew in his ? — Who knows him- 
 self correctly ! Else how could I grudge him 
 the little robbery he was striving to rescue 
 from the Christians ? — Certainly it is no small 
 booty such a creature ! — creature ? And whose ? 
 Not of the slave who floated a block on a bar- 
 ren shore of life and took French leave ? 
 Surely rather of the artist who fancied the 
 divine figure he represented then in the block 
 laid before him ? Ah ! the true father of 
 Recha, in spite of the Christian who begot her, 
 remains the Jew forever. If I now imagine 
 her as a Christian girl without all that such a 
 Jew alone could give her ! Speak my heart 
 12 
 
178 NATHAN THE WISE, 
 
 what is it that would please you in her ? Noth- 
 ing ! Little ! Even her smiling, would be 
 nothing but a soft and beautiful convulsion of 
 her muscles, and that which makes her smile 
 would be unworthy of the charm playing 
 around her mouth. No, not even her smiling ! 
 I have seen it squandered still more beautiful 
 in derangement, idle talk, mockery, flatterers 
 and paramours ! Has it also fascinated me ? 
 Has it formed in my breast the desire to flatter 
 away my life in its sunshine ? — I am unconscious 
 of it ! And yet I am cross to him who gave 
 her all alone the higher charm ? How that ? 
 Why ? — If I should have deserved the raillery 
 with which Saladin dismissed me 1 It is bad 
 enough, that Saladin could believe it ! How 
 small must I have appeared to him ! How 
 despicable ! — And all that for a girl? — Curd ! 
 Curd ! that will not do. Turn back to the 
 right direction ! Supposing Daja chatted to 
 me something that can hardly be proved ? 
 Look here ! There being absorbed in conver- 
 sation he is finally coming out of the house ! — 
 Ho ! with whom ! — With him ? With my lay- 
 brother? — 0, he knows surely everything al- 
 ready ! He is probably betrayed already to 
 
NATHAN THE WISE. ' 179 
 
 the gpatriarch ! Oh, I cross-grained fellow, 
 what have I done ! That one spark of this 
 passion can burn so much of our brains ! 
 Decide at once what shall be done next ! I 
 will wait for them here aside and may be, that 
 the lay-brother will leave him. 
 
 Scene IV. — Nathan and Lay-Brother. 
 
 Nat. (approaching nearer to him.) Dear 
 brother, I make agaiD my acknowledgments. 
 
 Lay B. And so do I. 
 
 Nat. You ? to me ? for what ? For my 
 stubborness in pressing upon you that which 
 you do not need ? Yes, if yours had only 
 yielded to it. You did not want by all means 
 to become richer than I. 
 
 Lay B. The book does not belong to me at 
 all. Yes, it is the daughter's and is her whole 
 paternal inheritance ! — Well, she has you. — 
 God grant, that you may never repent to have 
 done so much for her ! 
 
180 NATHAN THE WISE. 
 
 Nat. Can I do that ? Never ! Do not be 
 uneasy at that ! 
 
 Lay B. Well, well ! The patriarchs and the 
 templars 
 
 Nat. They cannot do me so much evil, that 
 I would regret anything, much less that ! — And 
 are you sure, that a templar spurs on your 
 patriarch ? 
 
 Lay B. It is hardly another one. A tem- 
 plar spoke to him a little while ago, and what 
 I heard, sounded accordingly. 
 
 Nat. But there is at present only one in 
 Jerusalem, and I know him. He is my friend. 
 A young, noble, and candid man ! 
 
 Lay B. Indeed, the same ! But that which 
 a man is and must be in this world, does not 
 suit always. 
 
 Nat. Alas, not ! — Thus let him do, who it 
 ever may be, his worst or best. Brother, with 
 your book I defy all, and I will go with it 
 straight to the Sultan. 
 
 Lay B. Much joy ! Here I will leave you. 
 
NATHAN THE WISE. 181 
 
 Nat. And you have not yet done so much, as 
 seen her ! come back soon and often. If only 
 the patriarch would not hear anything of it to- 
 day ! But what ? Tell him to-day all that 
 you want. 
 
 Lay B. I shall not. Good-bye ! (Exit.) 
 
 Nat. Do not forget us brother ! — God ! That 
 I cannot fall on my knees here in the open air ! 
 How is this knot loosened by itself which made 
 me afraid so often ! O God, how easy do I feel 
 when I think that I have nothing to conceal 
 any more in this world ! That I can walk now 
 as free before men, as before Thee who dost not 
 need to judge man according to his deeds 
 which are so seldom his deeds, 0, God ! — 
 
 Scene V. — Nathan and the Templar who is approaching 
 him sidewards. 
 
 Temp. Ha ! wait, Nathan, take me along ! 
 
 Nat. Who is calling me? — Is it you, knight? 
 Where have you been, that I could not meet 
 you at the Sultan's palace ? 
 
182 NATHAN THE WISE. 
 
 Temp. We missed one another. Excuse me, 
 Sir! 
 
 Nat. I will ; but not Saladin 
 
 Temp. You had just gone 
 
 Nat. And yet you saw him? Well, that 
 is right. 
 
 Temp. But he will see us both together. 
 
 Nat. So much the better. Come with me. 
 I wanted just to call upon him. — 
 
 Temp. May I ask you, Nathan, who was he, 
 who left you but now ? 
 
 Nat. You do not know him ? 
 
 Temp. Was it not the good fellow, the lay- 
 brother whom he employs as a spy ? 
 
 Nat. May be! He is certainly with the 
 patriarch. 
 
 Temp. This trick is not very bad to send on 
 simplicity before knavery. 
 
 Nat. Yes, the stupid, — not the pious simplic- 
 ity. — 
 
NATHAN THE WISE. 183 
 
 Temp. No patriarch does believe in pious. 
 
 Nat. I guarantee for him. He will not as- 
 sist the patriarch in performing any impropriety. 
 
 Temp, He affects at least to be so. — But did 
 not he tell you anything of me ? — 
 
 Nat. Of you ? of you especially nothing at 
 all. He hardly knows your name. 
 
 Temp. Hardly. 
 
 Nat. He told me certainly something of a 
 templar 
 
 Temp. And what ? 
 
 Nat. By which he could positively not have 
 meant you. 
 
 Temp. Who knows it ? Please, let me hear 
 it now. 
 
 Nat. That somebody accused me to his pa- 
 triarch 
 
 Temp. Accused you ? — That is with his 
 permission a falsehood. — Listen to me Na- 
 than ! I am a man who is not able to 
 disown anything. All that I did, I confess 
 
184 NATHAN THE WISH. 
 
 that I did it. Nor am I such a one who 
 would defend everything he has undertaken or 
 performed. Why should I be ashamed of a 
 fault I have committed ? Am I not determined 
 to correct it ? And do I not know at what a 
 degree men can arrive in this respect ? Listen 
 to me, Nathan ! — I am the templar of the lay- 
 brother who should have accused you indeed ! 
 You know that which irritated me and which 
 made the blood boil in my veins ! ! what a 
 fool I am ! — I came with body and soul to take 
 refuge with you ! How did you receive me ! 
 How cold ! — how luke-warm — because luke- 
 warm is still worse than cold ; how consider- 
 atley, how very studious have you been to 
 elude me, how did you put some questions to 
 me without any foundation in order to appear 
 as if answering my inquiries. If I shall keep 
 my temper I dare hardly think of it at present. 
 — Listen to me, Nathan ! — In a state of such an 
 agitation Daja sneaked after me and pressed her 
 secret upon me which seemed to unfold your 
 mysterious behaviour. 
 
 Nat. How is that ? 
 
 Temp. Hear me to the end ! I imagined, 
 
NATHAN THE WISE. 185 
 
 that you did not like to lose that again by a 
 Christian which you have rescued from Chris- 
 tians. Thus it came into my mind, in order to 
 be short and to make it good I shall urge you 
 very closely. 
 
 Nat. To be short and to make it good ? 
 wherein consists the good ? 
 
 Temp. Listen to me, Nathan ! — It is true, I 
 have done wrong ! — You are not guilty at all. 
 The foolish Daja does not know what she is 
 talking about. She bears you an ill will — and 
 tries to involve you in a bad affair. — May be ! 
 may be ! I am a young chap whose imagina- 
 tion takes always wild nights on both extremes. 
 He does sometimes too much and sometimes too 
 little. Even that can be ! Excuse me, Nathan. 
 
 Nat. Certainly, if you consider me in this 
 light.— 
 
 Temp. In short, I went to the patriarch ! but 
 I did not mention you at all. This is false as 
 I have already stated. I related to him the fact 
 only in general terms in order to hear his 
 opinion, and even that I might have spared. 
 Yes, did not I know already, that the patriarch 
 
186 NATHAN THE WISE. 
 
 is a rogue? — Could not I at once call you to 
 account about it? — Must I expose the poor 
 girl to the danger of losing such a father? 
 Well, what matters it ? The vileness of the pa- 
 triarch, remaining always similar to itself 
 brought me the shortest way again to my senses. 
 Because, hear me, Nathan, hear me to the end ! 
 Supposing, he knew also your name. — What 
 can be done more ? He could only demand 
 the girl, if nobody claims her but you. He 
 can only drag her out of your house into the 
 cloister. — Therefore give her to me ! give her 
 only to me and then let him come. He shall 
 forbear doing it to take my wife. Give her to 
 me, quickly ! She be your daughter or not ! 
 Be a Christian or Jewess or none ! It is no 
 matter, no matter ! I shall not inquire about it 
 neither at present nor ever in my whole life. 
 Be as it may ! 
 
 Nat. Do you think, that it is necessary for 
 me to conceal the truth ? 
 
 Temp. Be it as it may ! 
 
 Nat. I did never deny neither to you nor to 
 anybody who ought to know it, that she is a 
 
NATHAN THE WISH. 18T 
 
 Christian and. nothing else but my foster-daugh- 
 ter. Why I have not revealed the secret to her ? 
 •For that I have only to make my excuse to her 
 alone. 
 
 Temp. It is not necessary to apologize your 
 doing so to her. Allow her never to look on 
 you with other eyes ! Spare her the disclose- 
 ure ! — At present you can still all alone dispose 
 of her. Give her to me ! I am the only one 
 who can save her to you a second time — and I 
 will. 
 
 Nat. Yes — could ! could ! But not any 
 more. It is too late to do that. 
 
 Temp. How so ? Too late ? 
 
 Nat. Thanks 'be to the patriarch. . •. 
 
 Temp. To the patriarch? Thanks? To 
 him thanks ? For what ? He wanted to de- 
 serve thanks of us ? For what ? For what ? 
 
 Nat. That we know to whom she is related, 
 know into whose hands we can put her now 
 safely. 
 
 Temp. He may thank him for that who shall 
 thank him for more ! 
 
188 NATHAN THE WISE. 
 
 Nat. You must receive her now from their 
 hands and not from mine. 
 
 Temp. Poor Eecha ! How much comes sud- 
 denly upon you ! what would be a fortune for 
 other orphans becomes your misfortune ! — Na- 
 than ! and where are these relatives ? 
 
 Nat. Where are they ? 
 
 Temp. And who are they ? 
 
 Nat. A brother has especially appeared of 
 whom you have to ask her hand. 
 
 Temp .A brother ? W Iiat is he ? A soldier ? 
 A clergyman ? — Tell me, what I may expect. 
 
 Nat. I believe he is neither of both or both 
 together. I do not know him yet exactly. 
 
 Temp. And besides that ? 
 
 Nat. A brave man ! Eecha will not be bad 
 off with him. 
 
 Temp. Yet a Christian ! — Sometimes I do not 
 know what I shall think of you ! — do not take 
 it amiss, Nathan ! will she not be obliged to 
 play the Christian among Christians ? And 
 
NATHAN THE WISE. 182 
 
 will she not finally become that which she 
 played long enough ? Will not the weed choke 
 finally the pure wheat you have sown ? — And 
 that concerns you so little ? And notwith- 
 standing that, can you say — you — that she will 
 not be bad off when staying with her brother ? 
 
 Nat. I think, I hope so ! And if she should 
 be wanting something, well, has she not still 
 yourself and me ? 
 
 Temp. Oh ! what could she be wanting ! will 
 not the good brother provide richly enough for 
 his dear sister with board and clothes, delica- 
 cies and handsome things ? And what does a 
 beloved sister need more ? Eh, indeed ! a hus- 
 band also ! Well, well ! Even that will her 
 dear brother procure her in due time. As good 
 as he can ever find, the most Christian, and the 
 best. — Nathan ! Nathan ! What an angel have 
 you brought up who will be deformed by 
 others ! 
 
 Nat. Never mind ! She will still keep up 
 her dignity to be worthy of our love. 
 
 Temp. Do not say so ! Do not say so of my 
 love ! Because it does not allow to suppress 
 
190 NATHAN THE WISE. 
 
 anything, be it ever so small. And even a 
 mere name ! But hold ! Does she suspect al- 
 ready what is going on concerning her ? 
 
 Nat. It is possible, although I do not know 
 how so ? 
 
 Temp. No matter ! She shall and must first 
 learn from me what fate is threatening her in 
 both directions. I relinquish my resolution not 
 to see her again until I can call her mine. I 
 hasten away 
 
 Nat. Stay ! Whither are you going ? 
 
 Temp. To her ! To see whether her maiden 
 soul will possess so much of manly character to 
 form the only resolution worthy of her. 
 
 Nat. Which? 
 
 Tmep. It is this, that she shall not care for 
 you or her brother any more. — 
 
 Nat. And? 
 
 Temp. And to follow me even if she had to 
 become the wife of a Mussulman. 
 
 Nat. Stay, you will not meet her. She is 
 with Sittah, the sister of Sultan. 
 
NATHAN THE WISE. 191 
 
 Temp. Since when ? Why ? 
 
 Nat. And if you want to find there also 
 the brother, come with me. 
 
 Temp, the brother? Whom? That of 
 Sittah or Recha ? 
 
 Nat. Perhaps both. Come with me. I en- 
 treat you come ! (Leading him away.) 
 
 Scene VI. — Scenery : — Sittah' s Harem. Sittah and 
 Recha in conversation. 
 
 Sit. I rejoice in you, sweet girl ! — Let your 
 heart not be shrunk with grief ! Be not so 
 alarmed, so shy ! Be lively, more communica- 
 tive and more familiar ! 
 
 Rech. Princess 
 
 Sit. Nay, not princess! Call me Sittah, 
 your friend, your sister. Call me your mama ! 
 I could likely be that. — So young, so wise, so 
 pious ! How much is known to you ! How 
 much must you have read ! 
 
 Rech. How much I have read ? — Sittah, you 
 
192 NATHAN THE WISE. 
 
 are mocking at your little silly sister. I know 
 hardly how to read ! 
 
 Sit. You know hardly, you story teller. 
 
 Rech. A. little of my father's hand ! — I 
 thought you spoke of books. 
 
 Sit. To be sure of books. 
 
 Rech. Well, books are, indeed, very difficult 
 for me to read ! — 
 
 Sit. In earnest ? 
 
 Rech. Quite in earnest. My father loves too 
 little the cold erudition which impresses itself, 
 with dead signs on the brain. 
 
 Sit. Eh ! do not say so ! — He is, however, 
 not very wrong. And so many things you 
 know ? 
 
 Rech. I know them from his mouth. And 
 I could still tell you how ? where ? and why ? 
 he taught me the most of it. 
 
 Sit. Thus all sticks much better, and the 
 whole soul learns at once. 
 
NATHAN THE WISE. 19S 
 
 Eech. Sittah, you have surely not read much 
 or nothing at all ! 
 
 Sit. How so ? — I am not proud of being the 
 reverse ! But how so ? your argument ? Say 
 it boldly ! Your argument ? 
 
 Rech. She is so plain and so good, so unaf- 
 fected and is merely so like herself. .... 
 
 Sit. Well? 
 
 Rech. The books leave that to us very sel- 
 dom, says my father. 
 
 Sit. 0, what a man is your father ! 
 
 Rech. Is it not so ? 
 
 Sit. How he reaches always the goal ! 
 
 Rech. Is it not true ? — and this father — 
 
 Sit. What ails you, love ? 
 
 Rech. This father — 
 
 Sit. God ! are you crying ? 
 
 Rech. And this father — Ah ! out with it ! I 
 will open my heart, unbosom myself .... 
 13 
 
194 NATHAN TEE WISE. 
 
 (Throwing herself overwhelmed with tears, at 
 Sittah's feet.) 
 
 Sit. Child, what is the matter witli you? 
 Eecha ? 
 
 Rech. This father I shall — I shall lose ! 
 
 Sit. You ? lose ? him ? how that ? — Compose 
 yourself ! never ! — Rise ! 
 
 Rech. You shall not have offered yourself in 
 vain to be my friend, my sister ! 
 
 Sit. Yes, this I am, this I am ! — Stand up ! 
 else I must call for help ! 
 
 Rech. (resuming courage, rises) Oh ! I beg 
 your pardon ! Forgive me ! — my suffering 
 made me forget who you are. Whining and 
 despair are of no weight to Sittah. Cold and 
 calm reason has alone a great influence with her 
 and whose cause is pleaded by it before her, 
 will surely conquer. 
 
 Sit. Well then ? 
 
 Rech. No ! my friend, my sister will not al- 
 low it! Will never permit it, that another 
 father shall be pressed upon me ! 
 
NATHAN THE WISH. 195 
 
 Sit. Another father ? pressed upon you ? 
 Who can do that? Who could only wish to do 
 so, my love ? 
 
 Eech. Who? my good, bad Daja can wish 
 that and thinks herself powerful enough to do 
 it. Yes, know you not this good bad Daja ? 
 Well, Grod may forgive her ! Reward it to 
 her ! She has done me so much good and so 
 much evil ! 
 
 Sit. Has done evil to you ? — Indeed ! She 
 must have very little of the good. 
 
 Rech. Yet, very much, very much. 
 
 Sit. Who is she ? 
 
 Rech. A Christian who nursed me in my 
 childhood ! — who tended me so good ! — you 
 would not believe it ! — That I missed my mother 
 very little ! — may Grod reward it to her ! But 
 it is she who has also alarmed and tormented 
 me. 
 
 Sit. And about what ? Why and how ? 
 
 Rech. ! the poor woman — yes, as I told 
 you is a Christian — she must torment me on ac- 
 
196 NATHAN THE WISE. 
 
 count of love. She is one of those enthusiasts 
 who think to know the only general true way 
 to God. 
 
 Sit. Now I understand ! 
 
 Kech. They feel themselves compelled to 
 lead in that way every one who missed it. They 
 can hardly do otherwise. For if it is true, ac- 
 cording to their opinion, that this is the only 
 road which leads to the right, how can they 
 quietly see their friends walking on another 
 that leads into perdition, eternal perdition ? 
 It must be possible to love and hate the same 
 man at the same time. It is even not that 
 which forces me to complain loudly against her. 
 I would have gladly endured much longer her 
 sighs, her warnings, her prayers and her threats. 
 They originated always in me such thoughts 
 which were good and useful. And who is not 
 flattered, if he notices that he is highly esteemed 
 by some One, whoever it may be, that he cannot 
 bear the thought he will once be deprived of 
 us forever ? 
 
 Sit. Yerv true ! 
 
NATHAN THE WISE. 197 
 
 Eech. But — but that is going too far ! I 
 cannot set anything against it neither patience 
 nor consideration. Nothing ! 
 
 Sit. What? Whom? 
 
 Eech. What she wil! have but now revealed 
 to me. 
 
 Sit. Revealed and just now ? 
 
 Rech. Yes, just now ! On our way hither 
 we were approaching a Christian temple in ruins. 
 She suddenly stood quiet and seemed to strug- 
 gle within herself. With tears in her eyes she 
 looked soon up to heaven and soon at me. 
 Come, she finally said, let us go here straight 
 along through this temple. She is going, I fol- 
 low her, and my looks rambled with horror 
 over the tottering ruins. Now she stops again 
 and I was with her at the sunken steps of a rot- 
 ten altar. How was I moved, when she with 
 burning tears in her eyes and wringing her 
 hands fell down at my feet ! 
 
 Sit. Good child ! 
 
 Rech. And conjured me by the divine virgin 
 who has heard many a prayer and wrought 
 
NATHAN THE WISE. 
 
 many a wonder to have compassion on myself! 
 At least to pardon her if she must reveal to me 
 what claim her church lays to me. 
 
 Sit. (0 ! unfortunate ! — It is as my heart 
 foreboded !) 
 
 Rech. I descended from Christian blood, was 
 baptized, I am not the daughter of Nathan, he 
 is not my father ! — God ! God ! He is not my 
 father*! — Sittah ! Sittah ! See me again at 
 your feet 
 
 Sit. Recha ! 0, Recha ! Rise ! my brother 
 is coming ! Stand up ! 
 
 Scene VII. — Saladin and the former. 
 
 Sal. What is the matter here, Sittah ? 
 
 Sit. She is out of her senses ! God ! 
 
 Sal. Who is it ? 
 
 Sit. You know it very well 
 
 Sal. Our Nathan's daughter ? What ails 
 her? 
 
NATHAN THE WISH. 199 
 
 Sit. Child, compose yourself ! The Sultan ! 
 
 Eech. (dragging herself along on her knees 
 to the feet of Saladin and dropping her head to 
 the floor.) I shall not rise, shall not see before 
 the countenance of the Sultan and shall not 
 look and admire before the reflection of eternal 
 justice and goodness in his eyes, and on his 
 brows until 
 
 Sal. Eise ! . . . Rise ! 
 
 Rech. Until he will promise me. . . . 
 
 Sal. Come ! I promise you. Be it whatever 
 it may. 
 
 Rech. No more nor less than to leave to me 
 my father and me to him. I do not know yet 
 who else claims or can claim to be mj father ? 
 I do not like to know it. But is it blood alone 
 that makes the father ? Ouiy the blood ? 
 
 Sal. (who is raising her.) I perceive it 
 very well ! Who was so cruel to put such 
 things into your head ? Is it perfectly decided ? 
 Proved ? 
 
200 NATHAN THE WISH. 
 
 Rech. Well, it must be so ! Because Daja 
 says, that she was informed about it by my 
 nurse ! 
 
 Sal. By your nurse ? 
 
 Rech. Who when dying considered herself 
 in duty bound to tell it to her under the seal of 
 secrecy. 
 
 Sal. Already dying ! Was she not wander- 
 ing ? And were it really true ! — Certainly, the 
 blood, the blood alone does not constitute the 
 father ! makes hardly the father of a beast ! 
 It gives at most but the first right to gain 
 such a name. Be not solicitous ! And do you 
 know what to do ? when two fathers are fight- 
 ing for you ! — leave them both. Take the 
 third ! Take me as your father ! 
 
 Sit. do so ! do so ! 
 
 Sal. I will be a good father, a very good 
 father. — But hold ! I know something better J 
 What are the fathers to you ? Supposing they 
 would die ? Look around in time for such a one 
 who may enjoy with us a long life ! Do not you 
 know any body yet ? 
 
 Sit. Make her not blush ! 
 
 
NATHAN THE WISE. 201 
 
 Sal. Certainly, that I was determined to do. 
 Blushing makes the ugly so beautiful and shall 
 it not make the fair ones more beautiful ? I 
 bade your father Nathan and another one to 
 come with him hither. Can you guess his 
 name ? Hither ! Will you allow me Sittah ? 
 
 Sit. Brother! 
 
 Sal. That you blush exceedingly by his ap- 
 pearance, dear girl ! 
 
 Rech. For whom shall I blush ? 
 
 Sal. You little hypocrite ! Well, grow 
 rather pale ! Do as you will and can ! — (A 
 female slave enters and is approaching Sittah.) 
 They are not already here ? I hope ? 
 
 Sit. Well, let them enter. They are the 
 gentlemen, brother ! — 
 
 Scene VIII. — Nathan, Templar and the former. 
 
 Sal. Oh, my dear, good friends ! Before all 
 things I have to tell you Nathan, that you can 
 send now for your money whenever you want 
 it. 
 
202 NATHAN THE WISE. 
 
 Nat. Sultan! 
 
 Sal. Now it is my turn to be at your service. 
 
 Nat. Sultan! 
 
 Sal. The caravan has arrived. I am now 
 as rich again as I have not been for a long 
 time. Come, tell me all you need to undertake 
 something great ! For even you, you mer- 
 chants can never have too much ready cash ! 
 
 Nat. And why do you talk first of such a 
 trifle ? — I see there an eye with tears which 
 concerns me much more to dry them. (Ap- 
 proaching Recha.) You have been weeping ? 
 What is the matter with you ? Are you not 
 still my daughter ? 
 
 Recha. My father 
 
 Nat. We understand each other. Enough I 
 — Be cheerful! Be composed! Of course, if 
 your heart is still yours and if no loss is threat- 
 ening it, your father is not lost to you ! 
 
 Rech. None, none else ! 
 
 Temp. None else ? Well, then I did deceive 
 myself. That which one never feared to lose, 
 
NATHAN THE WISE. 203 
 
 he has never thought to possess nor ever 
 wished for it. — Yery well ! very well ! — That 
 change, Nathan ! that alters all ! — Saladin we 
 came here at your command. But I misled 
 you, trouble not yourself any more. 
 
 Sal. How hasty you are again young man ! — 
 Shall every one anticipate your desires ? Con- 
 jecture all you want ? 
 
 Temp. Well, you hear and see it, Sultan ! 
 
 Sal. Eh, indeed ! it is bad enough, that you 
 have not been surer of your case ! 
 
 Temp. So I am now. 
 
 Sal. Any one who is thus proud of a favor, 
 he takes it back again. What you have saved 
 is not on account of that, your property. Else 
 a robber driven by his avarice into the fire 
 would be as good a hero as ycu. (Approaches 
 Kecha to lead her to the Templar.) Come, clear 
 girl, come ! Take it not so particularly with 
 him. For would he be otherwise, were he less 
 high-spirited and proud, he would have abstain- 
 ed from saving you. You must reckon him the 
 one for the other. Come ! put him to shame I 
 
204 XATHAK THE WISE. 
 
 Do that which is becoming him to do. Con- 
 fess your love to him, give him your hand ! 
 And if he spurns such an offer, and ever forget 
 how much you have done in this affair for him 
 
 than he for you What did then 
 
 he for you ? Exposed himself a little to smoke ? 
 There is something remarkable ! Thus he has 
 nothing of my brother, my Assad ! He has 
 only his features, but not his heart. Come, 
 love 
 
 Sit. Go, love ! go ! It is still very little for 
 your gratitude, very little ! 
 
 Nat. Hold Saladin ! Hold Sittah ! 
 Sal. You also ? 
 
 Nat. There is another one who has to say 
 something about this affair. 
 
 Sal. Who would deny that ? A delibera- 
 tive vote belongs indisputable to such a foster- 
 father ! The first, if you wish it. You see, 
 that I know how the matter stands. 
 
 Nat. Not quite ! I speak not of myself. I 
 entreat you Saladin to hear first quite another 
 one. 
 
NATHAN THE WISE. 205 
 
 Sal. Whom? 
 
 Nat. Her brother ! 
 
 Sal. Recha's brother ? 
 
 1ST at. Yes! 
 
 Rech. My brother ? Have I a brother ? 
 
 Temp, (standing up from a wild and silent 
 distraction.) Where? Where is this brother ? 
 Has not he come yet ? I should meet him 
 here. 
 
 Nat. Have patience, if you please. 
 
 Temp, (most bitterly.) He imposed on her a 
 father, would he not also find for her a brother ? 
 
 Sal. That is too bad Christian ! Such a 
 mean suspicion would never have come from 
 Assad's lips. Well, go on so ! 
 
 Nat. Pardon him ! I gladly forgive him ! — 
 Who knows, what we would think were we in 
 his place and in his age. (Coming up to the 
 Templar friendly.) It is natural, knight ! Dis- 
 trust is followed by suspicion ! — If you had 
 deigned me to tell at once your right name . . . 
 
 Temp. How ? 
 
206 NATHAN THE WISE. 
 
 Nat. You are not a Stauffen ! 
 
 Temp. Who am I ? 
 
 Nat. Your name is not Curd von Stauffen ! 
 
 Temp. What is my name ? 
 
 Nat. Your name is Leo von Filneck. 
 
 Temp. How ? 
 
 Nat. You are startled ? 
 
 Temp. Who can say that with good reason ? 
 
 Nat. I who can tell you still more. Yet you 
 will not be contradicted. 
 
 Temp. Not? 
 
 Nat. It is very likely that you go also under 
 the other name. — 
 
 Temp. I should think so ! (God told him to 
 say that !) 
 
 Nat. For your mother was a descendant of 
 the Stauffen. Her brother, your uncle who 
 brought you up, and to whom your parents left 
 you in Germany, when driven away from that 
 unpropitious climate, returned to this country 
 
NATHAN THE WISE. 207 
 
 again, was Curd von Stauffen. He had adopt- 
 ed you as his own child perhaps ! Did yon 
 come over with him to this country long ago ? 
 And is he still living ? 
 
 Temp. What shall I say ?— Nathan ! Indeed ! 
 That is so ! He is dead ! I came over with 
 him with the last reinforcement of our order. 
 But what has Eecha's brother to do with all 
 this? 
 
 Nat. Your father 
 
 Temp. How ? Did you know him too ? 
 
 Nat. He was my friend. 
 
 Temp. Was your friend ? Is it possible, Na- 
 than !..... 
 
 Nat. He called himself Wolf von Filneck ; 
 but he was not a German 
 
 Temp. You know also that ? 
 
 Nat. He married a German lady, and fol- 
 lowed your mother to Germany for a short 
 time. 
 
 Temp. Nothing more ! I entreat you ! — But 
 Recha's brother ? Eecha's brother ? 
 
208 NATHAN THE WISH. 
 
 Nat. Are you ! 
 
 Temp. I ? I her brother ? 
 
 Eech. He my brother ? 
 
 Sit. Brother and sister ! 
 
 Sal. They are brother and sister ! 
 
 Rech. (coming up to him.) Oh! My 
 brother ! 
 
 Temp, (stepping back.) Her brother ! 
 
 Rech. (stopping and turning herself towards 
 Nathan ) Cannot be ! Cannot ! His heart 
 knows nothing of it ! We are impostors ! 
 God! 
 
 Sal. (to the Templar) Impostors ? how ? 
 Do you think that? Can you think that ? You 
 are yourself an impostor ! Because all is coun- 
 terfeit in you : face, voice, and gait ! Nothing 
 yours ! You will acknowledge fsuch a sister I 
 Go! 
 
 Temp, (approaching submissively.) Sultan t 
 may not you too misjudge my astonishment ! 
 In a moment in which you have hardly ever 
 
NATHAN TEE WISE. 209 
 
 seen your Assad, mistake not the value of him 
 and me ! (Hastening towards Nathan.) You 
 take away and you give me, Nathan ! both by 
 hanclfulls ! No, you give me a great deal more 
 than you take away ! inexpressible more, 
 (embraci g Reeha.) Ah, my sister ! My 
 sister ! 
 
 Nat. Blanda von Filneck ! 
 
 Temp. Blanda ? Blanda ?— Not Eecha ? Not 
 any more your Recha ? — God ! You cast her 
 off ! You give her back her Christian name ! 
 Cast her off on account of me ! Nathan ! 
 Nathan ! Why shall she suffer for it ? she ! 
 
 Nat. And what ? — Oh ! my children ! My 
 children I — For were not also the brother of my 
 daughter my child as soon as he wishes to be 
 so ? (while they are embracing him Saladin 
 approaches Sittah with an uneasy amazement.) 
 
 Sal. What do you say, sister ? 
 Sit. I am moved . .... 
 
 Sal. And I, recoil shuddering from still a 
 greater emotion ! Prepare yourself for that 
 as well as you can. 
 13 
 
210 NATHAN THE WISE. 
 
 Sit. How? 
 
 Sal. Nathan, a word with you ! a single 
 word ! — (When Nathan is approaching him, 
 Sittah comes up to the brother and sister to 
 show them her sympathy and Nathan and Sala- 
 din are speaking lower.) Listen, Nathan, lis- 
 ten ! Did not you say before — ? 
 
 Nat. What? 
 
 Sal. Her father came not from Germany, was 
 not a native German. What countryman was 
 he and where did he come from ? 
 
 Nat. He wanted never to tell me that. I 
 know nothing about it from his lips. 
 
 Sal. And was not a Frenchman nor an in- 
 habitant of the western country ? 
 
 Nat. Oh ! He acknowledged it very well, 
 that he was such a one. He liked the best to 
 speak the Persian language 
 
 Sal. The Persian ? Persian ? What need 
 [ more ? — It is he ! He was it ! 
 
 Nat. Who? 
 
NATHAN THE WISH. 211 
 
 Sal. My brother ! Surely ! My Assad ! 
 Pretty sure ! 
 
 Nat. Now as you yourself guessed it, I 
 give you now the assurance of it in this book. 
 (Presenting him the breviary.) 
 
 Sal. (opening it eagerly.) Oh ! his hand- 
 writing ! I recognize that too ! 
 
 Nat. They know nothing about it yet ! It 
 is entirely left to you how much they shall hear 
 of it! 
 
 Sal. (having run over the book.) Shall I 
 not recognize my brother's children ? Not my 
 nephew and niece ? My children ? Shall 1 not 
 recognize them ? Shall I leave them to you ? 
 (loudly again.) These they are ! These they 
 are ! Sittah ! These they are ! They are both 
 the children of my and your brother ! (he is 
 hurrying to embrace them.) 
 
 Sit. (following him.) What do I hear ! 
 could it be otherwise ! 
 
 Sal. (to the Templar.) Yet you must love 
 me obstinate fellow ! (to Recha.) Am I not 
 
212 NATHAN THE WISE. 
 
 to you that which I offered to you, whether 
 you want it or not ? 
 
 Sit. So am I too ! am I too ! 
 
 Sal. (again to the Templar.) My son, my 
 Assad, my Assad's son ! 
 
 Temp. I am of your blood — Thus were those 
 dreams with which they lulled my childhood, 
 more than dreams ! (Templar falling down at 
 his feet.) 
 
 Sal. (raising him.) Look here at the rogue I 
 He did know something of it and could nearly 
 make me his murderer. Wait ! 
 
 (While all are embracing each other silently, 
 the curtain falls.) 
 
ERRATA. 
 
 16, 
 20, 
 
 3d line "from face to face," should be " face to face" 
 from foot, "poinard" " ''poniard" 
 
 " "Cruel enthusiasts" should be "Cruel 
 
 enthusiasts !" 
 22, 7th " " "For certainty" should be "For certainly'' 
 
 24, 4th " " Deryie" should be "Dervise" 
 39, 13th " " of the templar's" should be "of the templars" 
 76, Sth & 9th line, " her, Daja ? " "herDaja?" 
 SO, 6th line from foot, " listening there !" should be " listenirg 
 
 there ?" 
 ' allusion" should be '.' illusion" 
 
 :, " retenue" should be " retiDue" 
 the word " Sal" is to be added, 
 "be gulled" should be " beguile" 
 "patriarah" " "patriarch" 
 ''behaviour" " "behavior" 
 "consideratley "should be "considerate] j"" 
 
 90, 11th " 
 
 "allu 
 
 136, ICth ' 
 
 from 
 
 143, 7th " 
 
 
 149, 5th " 
 
 
 153, 9th " 
 
 
 164, 3d " 
 
 " 
 
 184, 12th " 
 
 
•^B