Nathan the Wise; a dramatic poem in five actsLessing, Gotthold Ephraim
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Nathan the Wise; a dramatic poem in five acts
Lessing, Gotthold Ephraim
German drama -- Translations into English
Trust not yourself too little.
I answer for you, if you have the will.
Such men as you would willingly persuade us
It was their swords, their swords alone that raised them.
The lion’s apt to be ashamed of hunting
In fellowship of the fox—’tis of his fellow
Not of the cunning that he is ashamed.
SALADIN.
You women would so gladly level man
Down to yourselves. Go, I have got my lesson.
SITTAH.
What—_must_ I go?
SALADIN.
Had you the thought of staying?
SITTAH.
In your immediate presence not indeed,
But in the by-room.
SALADIN.
You could like to listen.
Not that, my sister, if I may insist.
Away! the curtain rustles—he is come.
Beware of staying—I’ll be on the watch.
[_While Sittah retires through one door_, _Nathan enters at another_,
_and Saladin seats himself_.
SALADIN _and_ NATHAN.
SALADIN.
Draw nearer, Jew, yet nearer; here, quite by me,
Without all fear.
NATHAN.
Remain that for thy foes!
SALADIN.
Your name is Nathan?
NATHAN.
Yes.
SALADIN.
Nathan the wise?
NATHAN.
No.
SALADIN.
If not thou, the people calls thee so.
NATHAN.
May be, the people.
SALADIN.
Fancy not that I
Think of the people’s voice contemptuously;
I have been wishing much to know the man
Whom it has named the wise.
NATHAN.
And if it named
Him so in scorn. If wise meant only prudent.
And prudent, one who knows his interest well.
SALADIN.
Who knows his real interest, thou must mean.
NATHAN.
Then were the interested the most prudent,
Then wise and prudent were the same.
SALADIN.
I hear
You proving what your speeches contradict.
You know man’s real interests, which the people
Knows not—at least have studied how to know them.
That alone makes the sage.
NATHAN.
Which each imagines
Himself to be.
SALADIN.
Of modesty enough!
Ever to meet it, where one seeks to hear
Dry truth, is vexing. Let us to the purpose—
But, Jew, sincere and open—
NATHAN.
I will serve thee
So as to merit, prince, thy further notice.
SALADIN.
Serve me—how?
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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