Scene VII.

Nathan and the Friar.

NATHAN.

(Aside. Gladly I would continue Recha's father!

And can I not be so, though I may cease

To bear the name? To her--at least to her--

I should be father still, if she but knew

How willingly I bore that title once.)

What can I do to serve you, pious brother?

FRIAR.

Not much; and yet it gives me pleasure, Nathan,

To see at least that you are still so well.

NATHAN.

You know me, then, it seems?

FRIAR.

Who knows you not?

You have impressed your name on many a hand--

It has been stamped on mine these many years.

NATHAN (feeling for his purse).

Come, brother, come; here's to refresh it.

FRIAR.

Thanks.

That would be robbing poorer men. I will

Take nothing; but I beg of you, permit

That I refresh your memory with my name;

For I can boast of having formerly

Placed something in your hand you should not scorn.

NATHAN.

Excuse me--I'm ashamed--what was it? Say,

And then take for atonement sevenfold

The value of the thing.

FRIAR.

Well, first of all,

Hear how this very day has brought to mind

The pledge I gave you.

NATHAN.

What! a pledge to me?

FRIAR.

Not long ago I led a hermit's life

On Quarantana, near to Jericho.

Some Arab thieves came and attacked my cell;

They robbed my oratory, forcing me

To follow them. But fortune favoured me.

I fled, came hither to the Patriarch,

And sought from him another calm retreat,

Where I might serve my God in solitude

Till death should bless me.

NATHAN.

Ah! I am on thorns.

Be quick! What pledge did you entrust to me?

FRIAR.

Yes, Nathan, presently. The Patriarch

Has promised I shall have a hermitage

On Tabor, when 'tis vacant; and meanwhile

Employs me in this convent as a brother,

And here I am at present. But I pine

For Tabor fifty times a day; for here

He makes me toil at work which I detest.

NATHAN.

Be speedy, I beseech you.

FRIAR.

Well, it chanced

Some one has whispered in his ear to-day

That a Jew lives hard by, who educates

A Christian as his daughter.

NATHAN.

How?

FRIAR.

Nay, hear.

He has commissioned me, if possible,

To find this Jew out for him; and he raves

Loudly and bitterly against the crime,

Which he pronounces as the actual sin

Against the Holy Ghost--that is, the sin

The greatest, which a sinner can commit.

But luckily we can't exactly tell

Its nature. But my conscience all at once

Was roused, and it occurred to me that I

Had once, perhaps, been guilty of this sin.

Do you remember, eighteen years ago,

When a knight's squire committed to your hands

A female infant but a few weeks old?

NATHAN.

What say you? Well, in fact there was----

FRIAR.

Ay, look--

Look well at me--for I'm that squire: 'twas I.

NATHAN.

What! you?

FRIAR.

And he from whom I brought the child

Was, if I recollect the matter right,

A Lord of Filneck--Wolf von Filneck.

NATHAN.

Right.

FRIAR.

Because the mother died not long before;

And he, the father, was obliged to fly

To Gaza suddenly. The helpless child

Could not accompany him, and therefore he

Committed it to you: that was my task.

I found you out at Daran.

NATHAN.

Right, quite right.

FRIAR.

It were no wonder had my memory

Deceived me. I have served so many lords.

The one who fled was not my master long,

He fell at Askalon. His heart was kind.

NATHAN.

Yes, yes, and I have much to thank him for.

Not once, but many times he saved my life.

FRIAR.

O, glorious! then the greater joy for you

To educate his daughter.

NATHAN.

You say well.

FRIAR.

Where is she now? She is not dead, I hope.

Let me not hear, I pray, that she is dead.

If no one else have found the secret out,

All is yet safe.

NATHAN.

Indeed!

FRIAR.

Oh, Nathan, trust me.

This is my way of thinking: if the good

That I propose to do is intertwined

With mischief, then I let the good alone;

For we know well enough what mischief is,

But not what is the best. 'Twas natural,

If you intended to bring up the child

With care, that you should rear it as your own.

And to have done this lovingly and well,

And be thus recompensed, is piteous.

It were perhaps more prudent, if the child

Had been brought up by some good Christian's hand,

In her own faith. But then you had not loved

Your dear friend's orphan child; and children need

Love--were it but the affection of a brute--

More at that age, than Christianity:

There's always time enough for that: and if

The maiden had grown up before your eyes,

Healthy and pious, she had then remained

The same as ever in her Maker's eyes.

For is not Christianity all built

Upon the Jewish creed? Oh oft, too oft,

It vexes me and costs me bitter tears,

To think that Christians will so constantly

Forget that Christ our Saviour was a Jew.

NATHAN.

Good brother, you shall be my advocate,

When hate and bigotry shall frown on me,

All for a deed--which you alone shall hear--

But take it with you to the tomb. As yet

E'en vanity has never tempted me

To breathe it to a soul; to you alone

It shall be told; for simple piety

Like yours can truly feel what man can do

Who places his full confidence in God.

FRIAR.

You're moved, and your eyes run o'er with tears.

NATHAN.

At Daran 'twas you met me with the child.

You had not heard that, a few days before,

The Christians murdered every Jew in Gath--

Woman and child. Amongst them was my wife--

Along with her, my seven hopeful sons.

All had sought shelter 'neath my brother's roof,

And there were burnt alive.

FRIAR.

Just God!

NATHAN.

You came.

Three nights in dust and ashes I had lain

Before my God and wept; and I at times

Arraigned my Maker, raged, and cursed myself

And the whole world together, and I swore

Eternal hate to Christianity.

FRIAR.

Who can condemn you? I believe it well.

NATHAN.

But by degrees returning reason came,

And spoke with gentle accent: "God is just!

And this was His decree. Now exercise

The lesson thou so long hast understood,

And which is surely not more difficult

To exercise than well to understand."

I rose and cried to God, "I will, I will!

Do Thou but aid my purpose." And, behold,

Just at that moment you dismounted. You

Gave me the child enfolded in your robe.

The words we spoke occur not to me now.

This much I recollect: I took the child;

I bore it to my bed; I kissed its cheek;

I flung myself upon my knees, and sobbed,

"My God, Thou hast restored me one of seven!"

FRIAR.

Nathan, you are a Christian. Yes, I swear

You are a Christian--better never lived.

NATHAN.

Indeed! the very thing that makes me seem

Christian to you, makes you a Jew to me.

But let us not distress each other thus,

'Tis time to act, and though a sevenfold love

Had bound me to this strange, this lovely maid,

Though the mere thought distracts me, that in her

I lose my seven dear sons a second time,

If Providence require her at my hands

I'm ready to obey.

FRIAR.

'Tis well! And thus

I thought to counsel you; but there's no need:

Your own good genius has forestalled my words.

NATHAN.

The first chance claimant must not tear her hence.

FRIAR.

Most surely not.

NATHAN.

And he who has no claim

Stronger than mine--at least he ought to have

Those prior claims which----

FRIAR.

Certainly,

NATHAN.

Those claims

Which are derived from nature and from blood.

FRIAR.

In my opinion, yes.

NATHAN.

Then name the man

As brother, or as uncle, bound to her,

I'll not withhold her from him; she was made

To be the ornament of any house,

The pride of any faith. I hope you know

More of your master and his creed than I.

FRIAR.

On that point, Nathan, I'm but ill informed,

I have already told you that I spent

Only some moments with him.

NATHAN.

Can you tell

The mother's name, at least? She was, I think,

A Stauffen?

FRIAR.

Possibly; nay, more--you're right.

NATHAN.

Conrad of Stauffen was her brother's name.

He was a Templar.

FRIAR.

Yes, I think he was:

But hold, I have a book that was my lord's.

I drew it from his bosom when he lay

Dead, and we buried him at Askalon.

NATHAN.

Well!

FRIAR.

There are prayers in it; 'tis what we call

A breviary. This, thought I, yet may serve

Some Christian man--not me, forsooth--for I

Can't read a word.

NATHAN.

No matter--to the point.

FRIAR.

The pages of this book are written all

In his own hand, and, as I'm told, contain

All that's important touching him and her.

NATHAN.

Go, run and fetch the book: 'tis fortunate!

I'll pay you for it with its weight in gold.

And with a thousand thanks besides. Go! run!

FRIAR.

I go--but what he wrote is Arabic. (Exit)

NATHAN.

No matter, fetch it. What, if from this book

I can find means to keep this precious girl,

And win, to boot, a son-in-law like him!

I hardly hope--fate must decide. But who

Has told the Patriarch this? I must not fail

To ascertain. It surely was not Daja?