The Dramatic Works of G. E. Lessing Part 125

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 p.r.o.nounces 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 G.o.d.

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 G.o.d!

NATHAN.

You came.

Three nights in dust and ashes I had lain Before my G.o.d 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.