Nathan the Wise; a dramatic poem in five actsLessing, Gotthold Ephraim
General
Nathan the Wise; a dramatic poem in five acts
Lessing, Gotthold Ephraim
German drama -- Translations into English
What a charming silk
I bought for you in Babylon! ’Tis rich,
Yet elegantly rich. I almost doubt
If I have brought a prettier for Recha.
DAYA.
And what of that—I tell you that my conscience
Will no be longer hushed.
NATHAN.
And I have bracelets,
And earrings, and a necklace, which will charm you.
I chose them at Damascus.
DAYA.
That’s your way:—
If you can but make presents—but make presents.—
NATHAN.
Take you as freely as I give—and cease.
DAYA.
And cease?—Who questions, Nathan, but that you are
Honour and generosity in person;—
Yet—
NATHAN.
Yet I’m but a Jew.—That was your meaning.
DAYA.
You better know what was my meaning, Nathan.
NATHAN.
Well, well, no more of this,
DAYA.
I shall be silent;
But what of sinful in the eye of heaven
Springs out of it—not I, not I could help;
It falls upon thy head.
NATHAN.
So let it, Daya.
Where is she then? What stays her? Surely, surely,
You’re not amusing me—And does she know
That I’m arrived?
DAYA.
That you yourself must speak to,
Terror still vibrates in her every nerve.
Her fancy mingles fire with all she thinks of.
Asleep, her soul seems busy; but awake,
Absent: now less than brute, now more than angel.
NATHAN.
Poor thing! What are we mortals—
DAYA.
As she lay
This morning sleeping, all at once she started
And cried: “list, list! there come my father’s camels!”
And then she drooped again upon her pillow
And I withdrew—when, lo! you really came.
Her thoughts have only been with you—and him.
NATHAN.
And _him_? What him?
DAYA.
With him, who from the fire
Preserved her life,
NATHAN.
Who was it? Where is he,
That saved my Recha for me?
DAYA.
A young templar,
Brought hither captive a few days ago,
And pardoned by the Sultan.
NATHAN.
How, a _templar_
Dismissed with life by Saladin. In truth,
Not a less miracle was to preserve her,
God!—God!—
DAYA.
Without this man, who risked afresh
The Sultan’s unexpected boon, we’d lost her.
NATHAN.
Where is he, Daya, where’s this noble youth?
Do, lead me to his feet. Sure, sure you gave him
What treasures I had left you—gave him all,
Promised him more—much more?
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account