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
How so, too late.
NATHAN.
Thanks to the patriarch.
TEMPLAR.
How
Thanks to the patriarch, and for what? Can he
Earn thanks of us. For what?
NATHAN.
That now we know
To whom she is related—to whose hands
She may with confidence be now delivered.
TEMPLAR.
He thank him who has more to thank him for.
NATHAN.
From theirs you now have to obtain her, not
From mine.
TEMPLAR.
Poor Recha—what befalls thee? Oh,
Poor Recha—what had been to other orphans
A blessing, is to thee a curse. But, Nathan,
Where are they, these new kinsmen?
NATHAN.
Where they are?
TEMPLAR.
Who are they?
NATHAN.
Who—a brother is found out
To whom you must address yourself.
TEMPLAR.
A brother!
And what is he, a soldier or a priest?
Let’s hear what I’ve to hope.
NATHAN.
As I believe
He’s neither of the two—or both. Just now
I cannot say exactly.
TEMPLAR.
And besides
He’s—
NATHAN.
A brave fellow, and with whom my Recha
Will not be badly placed.
TEMPLAR.
But he’s a Christian.
At times I know not what to make of you—
Take it not ill of me, good Nathan. Will she
Not have to play the Christian among Christians;
And when she has been long enough the actress
Not turn so? Will the tares in time not stifle
The pure wheat of your setting—and does that
Affect you not a whit—you yet declare
She’ll not be badly placed.
NATHAN.
I think, I hope so.
And should she there have need of any thing
Has she not you and me?
TEMPLAR.
Need at her brother’s—
What should she need when there? Won’t he provide
His dear new sister with all sorts of dresses,
With comfits and with toys and glittering jewels?
And what needs any sister wish for else—
Only a husband? And he comes in time.
A brother will know how to furnish that,
The Christianer the better. Nathan, Nathan,
O what an angel you had formed, and how
Others will mar it now!
NATHAN.
Be not so downcast,
Believe me he will ever keep himself
Worthy our love.
TEMPLAR.
No, say not that of mine.
My love allows of no refusal—none.
Were it the merest trifle—but a name.
Hold there—has she as yet the least suspicion
Of what is going forward?
NATHAN.
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.
Elsewhere in the archive
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account