_Nathan._ My tale is ended. You may guess the sequel:— The father dies; immediately each son Comes forward with his ring, and asks to be Proclaimed as head and ruler of the house; All three assert one claim, and show their rings— All made alike. To find the first—the true— It was as great a puzzle as for us— To find the one true faith.
_Saladin._ Is that, then, all the answer I must have?
_Nathan._ ’Tis my apology, if I decline To act as judge, or to select the ring— The one, true gem, of three all made alike; All given by one—
_Saladin._ There! talk no more of “rings.” The three religions, that, at first, were named, Are all distinct—aye, down to dress—food—drink—
_Nathan._ Just so! and yet their claims are all alike, As founded upon history, on facts Believed, and handed down from sire to son, Uniting them in faith. Can we—the Jews— Distrust the testimony of our race? Distrust the men who gave us birth, whose love Did ne’er deceive us; but when we were babes, Taught us, by means of fables, for our good? Must _you_ distrust your own true ancestors, To flatter mine?—or must a Christian doubt His father’s words, and so agree with ours?—
_Saladin._ Allah!—the Israelite is speaking truth, And I am silenced—
_Nathan._ Let me name the rings Once more!—The sons at last, in bitter strife, Appeared before a judge, and each declared He had the one true gem, given by his father; All said the same, and all three spoke the truth; Each, rather than suspect his father’s word, Accused his brethren of a fraud—.
_Saladin._ What then? What sentence could the judge pronounce? Go on.
_Nathan._ Thus said the judge:—“Go, bring your father here; Let him come forth! or I dismiss the case. Must I sit guessing riddles? Must I wait Till the true ring shall speak out for itself?— But stay!—’twas said that the authentic gem Had virtue that could make its wearer loved By God and man. That shall decide the case. Tell me who of the three is best beloved By his two brethren. Silent?—Then the ring Hath lost its charm!—Each claimant loves himself, But wins no love. The rings are forgeries; ’Tis plain, the first, authentic gem was lost; To keep his word with you, and hide his loss, Your father had these three rings made—these three, Instead of one—”