Scene III.
Nathan and the Dervise.
DERVISE.
Ay, lift your eyes and wonder.
NATHAN.
Is it you?
A Dervise so magnificent!
DERVISE.
Why not?
Can you make nothing of a Dervise, Nathan?
NATHAN.
Ay, surely, but I've still been wont to think
A Dervise--I would say a thorough Dervise--
Will ne'er let anything be made of him.
DERVISE.
Well, by the Prophet! though it may be true
That I'm no thorough Dervise, yet one must----
NATHAN.
Must, Hafi! You a Dervise! No man must----
And least of all a Dervise.
DERVISE.
Nay, he must,
When he is much implored and deems it right.
NATHAN.
Well spoken, Hafi! Let us now embrace.
You're still, I trust, my friend.
DERVISE.
Why not ask first
What has been made of me?
NATHAN.
I take my chance,
In spite of all that has been made of you.
DERVISE.
May I not be a servant of the state
Whose friendship is no longer good for you?
NATHAN.
If you but still possess your Dervise heart
I'll run the risk of that. The stately robe
Is but your cloak.
DERVISE.
And yet it claims some honour.
But, tell me truly, at a court of yours
What had been Hafi's rank?
NATHAN.
A Dervise only--
Or, if aught else--perhaps my cook.
DERVISE.
Why yes!
That I might thus unlearn my native trade,
Your cook! why not your butler? But the Sultan--
He knows me better--I'm his treasurer.
NATHAN.
What, you?--his treasurer?
DERVISE.
Mistake me not,
I only bear his lesser purse; his father
Still manages the greater, and I am
The treasurer of his house.
NATHAN.
His house is large!
DERVISE.
Far larger than you think--all needy men
Are of his house.
NATHAN.
Yet Saladin is such
A foe to beggars!
DERVISE.
That he'd root them out,
Though he turned beggar in the enterprise.
NATHAN.
Bravo! I meant as much.
DERVISE.
He's one already.
His treasury at sunset every day
Is worse than empty; and although the tide
Flowed high at morn, 'tis ebb before the noon.
NATHAN.
Because it flows through channels such as we
Can neither stop nor fill.
DERVISE.
You hit the truth.
NATHAN.
I know it well.
DERVISE.
Ah! 'tis an evil case
When kings are vultures amid carcases,
But ten times worse when they're the carcases
Amid the vultures.
NATHAN.
Dervise, 'tis not so.
DERVISE.
Is that your thought? But, come, what will you give
If I resign my office in your favour?
NATHAN.
What are your profits?
DERVISE.
Mine? not much; but you
Would soon grow rich; for when, as oft occurs,
The Sultan's treasury is at an ebb,
You might unlock your sluices, pour in gold,
And take in form of interest what you please.
NATHAN.
And interest on the interest of the interest.
DERVISE.
Of course.
NATHAN.
Until my capital becomes
All interest.
DERVISE.
Well! is not the offer tempting?
Farewell for ever to our friendship then,
For I had counted on you.
NATHAN.
How so, Hafi?
DERVISE.
I thought you would have helped me to discharge
My task with credit; that I should have found
Your treasury ready. Ha! you shake your head.
NATHAN.
Let us explain. We must distinguish here.
To you, Dervise Al-Hafi, all I have
Is welcome; but to you, the Defterdar
Of Saladin--to that Al-Hafi, who----
DERVISE.
I guessed as much. You ever are as good
As you are wise and prudent. Only wait.
The two Al-Hafis you distinguish thus
Will soon be parted. See, this robe of honour,
Which Saladin bestowed, before 'tis worn
To rags, and suited to a Dervise back,
Will in Jerusalem hang from a nail;
Whilst I, upon the Ganges' scorching strand,
Barefoot amid my teachers will be found.
NATHAN.
That's like yourself!
DERVISE.
Or playing chess with them.
NATHAN.
Your greatest bliss!
DERVISE.
What do you think seduced me?
Hopes of escaping future penury,
The pride of acting the rich man to beggars,
Would this have metamorphosed all at once
The richest beggar to a poor rich man?
NATHAN.
No.
DERVISE.
But I yielded to a sillier whim.
For the first time I felt myself allured
By Saladin's kind-hearted, flattering words.
NATHAN.
And what were they?
DERVISE.
He said a beggar's wants
Are known but to the poor alone; that they
Alone can tell how want should be relieved.
"Thy predecessor was too cold," he said,
"Too harsh, and when he gave, 'twas with a frown.
He searched each case too strictly, not content
To find out want, he would explore the cause,
And thus he measured out his niggard alms.
Not so wilt thou bestow, and Saladin
Will not appear so harshly kind in thee.
Thou art not like that choked-up conduit-pipe,
Whence in unequal streams the water flows,
Which it receives in pure and copious stores.
Al-Hafi thinks, Al-Hafi feels like me."
The fowler whistled, and at last the quail
Ran to his net. Cheated, and by a cheat?
NATHAN.
Hush, Dervise, hush!
DERVISE.
What! is it not a cheat
To grind mankind by hundred thousands thus!
Oppress them, plunder, butcher, and torment,
And singly play the philanthropic part?
Not cheating, to pretend to imitate
That heavenly bounty, which in even course
Descends alike on desert and on plain,
On good and bad, in sunshine and in shower,
And not possess the never empty hand
Of the Most High! Not cheating----
NATHAN.
Dervise, cease!
DERVISE.
Nay, let me speak of cheating of my own,
How now? Were it not cheating to seek out
The bright side of impostures such as these,
That under colour of this brighter side
I might take part in them? What say you now?
NATHAN.
Fly to your desert quickly. Amongst men
I fear you'll soon unlearn to be a man.
DERVISE.
I fear so too. Farewell!
NATHAN.
What, so abrupt?
Stay, stay, Al-Hafi! Has the desert wings?
It will not fly away. Here, stay, Al-Hafi!
He's gone; he's gone. I would that I had asked
About that Templar; he must know the man.
Scene IV.
Daja (rushing in), Nathan.
DAJA.
O Nathan, Nathan!
NATHAN.
Well! what now?
DAJA.
He's there.
He shows himself once more.
NATHAN.
Who, Daja--who?
DAJA.
He--he!
NATHAN.
Where cannot he be found? But he
You mean, is, I suppose, the only He.
That should not be, were he an angel's self.
DAJA.
Beneath the palms he wanders up and down,
And gathers dates.
NATHAN.
And eats them, I suppose,
Just as a Templar would.
DAJA.
You mock me, sir!
Her eager eye espied him long ago,
When scarcely seen amid the distant trees.
She watches him intently, and implores
That you will go to him without delay.
Then go, and from the window she will mark
Which way his paces tend. Go, go; make haste!
NATHAN.
What! thus, as I alighted from my camel?
Would that be seemly? But do you accost him;
Tell him of my return. I do not doubt
You'll find the honest man forbore our house
Because the host was absent. He'll accept
A father's invitation. Say I ask him,
I heartily request him.
DAJA.
All in vain!
In short, he will not visit any Jew.
NATHAN.
Then use your best endeavours to detain him,
Or, with unerring eye, observe his steps,
And mark him well. Go, I shall not be long.
(Nathan enters the house. Daja retires.)