Scene III.

Nathan _and the_ Dervise.

DERVISE.

Ay, lift your eyes and wonder.

NATHAN.

Is it you? A Dervise so magnificent!

DERVISE.

Why not? Can you make nothing of a Dervise, Nathan?

NATHAN.

Ay, surely, but I've still been wont to think A Dervise--I would say a thorough Dervise-- Will ne'er let anything be made of him.

DERVISE.

Well, by the Prophet! though it may be true That I'm no thorough Dervise, yet one must----

NATHAN.

_Must_, Hafi! You a Dervise! No man _must_---- And least of all a Dervise.

DERVISE.

Nay, he must, When he is much implored and deems it right.

NATHAN.

Well spoken, Hafi! Let us now embrace. You're still, I trust, my friend.

DERVISE.

Why not ask first What has been made of me?

NATHAN.

I take my chance, In spite of all that has been made of you.

DERVISE.

May I not be a servant of the state Whose friendship is no longer good for you?

NATHAN.

If you but still possess your Dervise heart I'll run the risk of that. The stately robe Is but your cloak.

DERVISE.

And yet it claims some honour. But, tell me truly, at a court of yours What had been Hafi's rank?

NATHAN.

A Dervise only-- Or, if aught else--perhaps my cook.

DERVISE.

Why yes! That I might thus unlearn my native trade, Your cook! why not your butler? But the Sultan-- He knows me better--I'm his treasurer.

NATHAN.

What, you?--his treasurer?

DERVISE.

Mistake me not, I only bear his lesser purse; his father Still manages the greater, and I am The treasurer of his house.

NATHAN.

His house is large!

DERVISE.

Far larger than you think--all needy men Are of his house.

NATHAN.

Yet Saladin is such A foe to beggars!

DERVISE.

That he'd root them out, Though he turned beggar in the enterprise.

NATHAN.

Bravo! I meant as much.

DERVISE.

He's one already. His treasury at sunset every day Is worse than empty; and although the tide Flowed high at morn, 'tis ebb before the noon.

NATHAN.

Because it flows through channels such as we Can neither stop nor fill.

DERVISE.

You hit the truth.

NATHAN.

I know it well.

DERVISE.

Ah! 'tis an evil case When kings are vultures amid carcases, But ten times worse when they're the carcases Amid the vultures.

NATHAN.

Dervise, 'tis not so.

DERVISE.

Is that your thought? But, come, what will you give If I resign my office in your favour?

NATHAN.

What are your profits?

DERVISE.

Mine? not much; but you Would soon grow rich; for when, as oft occurs, The Sultan's treasury is at an ebb, You might unlock your sluices, pour in gold, And take in form of interest what you please.

NATHAN.

And interest on the interest of the interest.

DERVISE.

Of course.

NATHAN.

Until my capital becomes All interest.

DERVISE.

Well! is not the offer tempting? Farewell for ever to our friendship then, For I had counted on you.

NATHAN.

How so, Hafi?

DERVISE.

I thought you would have helped me to discharge My task with credit; that I should have found Your treasury ready. Ha! you shake your head.

NATHAN.

Let us explain. We must distinguish here. To you, Dervise Al-Hafi, all I have Is welcome; but to you, the Defterdar Of Saladin--to that Al-Hafi, who----

DERVISE.

I guessed as much. You ever are as good As you are wise and prudent. Only wait. The two Al-Hafis you distinguish thus Will soon be parted. See, this robe of honour, Which Saladin bestowed, before 'tis worn To rags, and suited to a Dervise back, Will in Jerusalem hang from a nail; Whilst I, upon the Ganges' scorching strand, Barefoot amid my teachers will be found.

NATHAN.

That's like yourself!

DERVISE.

Or playing chess with them.

NATHAN.

Your greatest bliss!

DERVISE.

What do you think seduced me? Hopes of escaping future penury, The pride of acting the rich man to beggars, Would this have metamorphosed all at once The richest beggar to a poor rich man?

NATHAN.

No.

DERVISE.

But I yielded to a sillier whim. For the first time I felt myself allured By Saladin's kind-hearted, flattering words.

NATHAN.

And what were they?

DERVISE.

He said a beggar's wants Are known but to the poor alone; that they Alone can tell how want should be relieved. "Thy predecessor was too cold," he said, "Too harsh, and when he gave, 'twas with a frown. He searched each case too strictly, not content To find out want, he would explore the cause, And thus he measured out his niggard alms. Not so wilt thou bestow, and Saladin Will not appear so harshly kind in thee. Thou art not like that choked-up conduit-pipe, Whence in unequal streams the water flows, Which it receives in pure and copious stores. Al-Hafi thinks, Al-Hafi feels like me." The fowler whistled, and at last the quail Ran to his net. Cheated, and by a cheat?

NATHAN.

Hush, Dervise, hush!

DERVISE.

What! is it not a cheat To grind mankind by hundred thousands thus! Oppress them, plunder, butcher, and torment, And singly play the philanthropic part? Not cheating, to pretend to imitate That heavenly bounty, which in even course Descends alike on desert and on plain, On good and bad, in sunshine and in shower, And not possess the never empty hand Of the Most High! Not cheating----

NATHAN.

Dervise, cease!

DERVISE.

Nay, let me speak of cheating of my own, How now? Were it not cheating to seek out The bright side of impostures such as these, That under colour of this brighter side I might take part in them? What say you now?

NATHAN.

Fly to your desert quickly. Amongst men I fear you'll soon unlearn to be a man.

DERVISE.

I fear so too. Farewell!

NATHAN.

What, so abrupt? Stay, stay, Al-Hafi! Has the desert wings? It will not fly away. Here, stay, Al-Hafi! He's gone; he's gone. I would that I had asked About that Templar; he must know the man.