Nathan the Wise | Page 8

- A nose bow'd one way rather than another - Eye-brows with straiter, or with sharper curve - A line, a mole, a wrinkle, a mere nothing I' th' countenance of an European savage - And thou--art saved, in Asia, from the fire. Ask ye for signs and wonders after that? What need of calling angels into play?
DAYA.
But Nathan, where's the harm, if I may speak, Of fancying one's self by an angel saved, Rather than by a man? Methinks it brings us Just so much the nearer the incomprehensive First cause of preservation.
NATHAN.
Pride, rank pride! The iron pot would with a silver prong Be lifted from the furnace--to imagine Itself a silver vase. Paha! Where's the harm? Thou askest. Where's the good? I might reply. For thy IT BRINGS US NEARER TO THE GODHEAD Is nonsense, Daya, if not blasphemy. But it does harm: yes, yes, it does indeed. Attend now. To the being, who preserved you, Be he an angel or a man, you both, And thou especially wouldst gladly show Substantial services in just requital. Now to an angel what great services Have ye the power to do? To sing his praise - Melt in transporting contemplation o'er him - Fast on his holiday--and squander alms - What nothingness of use! To me at least It seems your neighbour gains much more than he By all this pious glow. Not by your fasting Is he made fat; not by your squandering, rich; Nor by your transports is his glory exalted; Nor by your faith his might. But to a man -
DAYA.
Why yes; a man indeed had furnished us With more occasions to be useful to him. God knows how readily we should have seized them. But then he would have nothing--wanted nothing - Was in himself wrapped up, and self-sufficient, As angels are.
RECHA.
And when at last he vanished -
NATHAN.
Vanished? How vanished? Underneath the palms Escaped your view, and has returned no more. Or have you really sought for him elsewhere?
DAYA.
No, that indeed we've not.
NATHAN.
Not, Daya, not? See it does harm, hard-hearted, cold enthusiasts, What if this angel on a bed of illness -
RECHA.
Illness?
DAYA.
Ill! sure he is not.
RECHA.
A cold shudder Creeps over me; O Daya, feel my forehead, It was so warm, 'tis now as chill as ice.
NATHAN.
He is a Frank, unused to this hot climate, Is young, and to the labours of his calling, To fasting, watching, quite unused -
RECHA.
Ill--ill!
DAYA.
Thy father only means 'twere possible.
NATHAN.
And there he lies, without a friend, or money To buy him friends -
RECHA.
Alas! my father.
NATHAN.
Lies Without advice, attendance, converse, pity, The prey of agony, of death -
RECHA.
Where--where?
NATHAN.
He, who, for one he never knew, or saw - It is enough for him he is a man - Plunged into fire.
DAYA.
O Nathan, Nathan, spare her.
NATHAN.
Who cared not to know aught of her he saved, Declined her presence to escape her thanks -
DAYA.
Do, spare her!
NATHAN.
Did not wish to see her more Unless it were a second time to save her - Enough for him he is a man -
DAYA.
Stop, look!
NATHAN.
He--he, in death, has nothing to console him, But the remembrance of this deed.
DAYA.
You kill her!
NATHAN.
And you kill him--or might have done at least - Recha 'tis medicine I give, not poison. He lives--come to thyself--may not be ill - Not even ill -
RECHA.
Surely not dead, not dead.
NATHAN.
Dead surely not--for God rewards the good Done here below, here too. Go; but remember How easier far devout enthusiasm is Than a good action; and how willingly Our indolence takes up with pious rapture, Tho' at the time unconscious of its end, Only to save the toil of useful deeds.
RECHA.
Oh never leave again thy child alone! - But can he not be only gone a journey?
NATHAN.
Yes, very likely. There's a Mussulman Numbering with curious eye my laden camels, Do you know who he is?
DAYA.
Oh, your old dervis.
NATHAN.
Who--who?
DAYA.
Your chess companion.
NATHAN.
That, Al-Hafi?
DAYA.
And now the treasurer of Saladin.
NATHAN.
Al-Hafi? Are you dreaming? How was this? In fact it is so. He seems coming hither. In with you quick.--What now am I to hear?
NATHAN and HAFI.
HAFI.
Aye, lift thine eyes in wonder.
NATHAN.
Is it you? A dervis so magnificent! -
HAFI.
Why not? Can nothing then be made out of a dervis?
NATHAN.
Yes, surely; but I have been wont to think A dervis, that's to say a thorough dervis, Will allow nothing to be made of him.
HAFI.
May-be 'tis true that I'm no thorough dervis; But by the prophet, when we must -
NATHAN.
Must, Hafi? Needs must--belongs to no man: and a dervis -
HAFI.
When he is much besought, and thinks it right, A dervis must.
NATHAN.
Well spoken, by our God! Embrace me, man, you're still, I trust, my friend.
HAFI.
Why not ask first what has been made of me?
NATHAN.
Ask climbers to look back!
HAFI.
And may I not Have grown to such a creature in the state That my old friendship is no longer