Nathan monologue (Act 1) — Nathan the Wise; a dramatic poem in five acts

Pride, rank pride! The iron pot would with a silver prong Be lifted from the furnace—to imagine Itself a silver vase. Paha! Where’s the harm? Thou askest. Where’s the good? I might reply. For thy _it brings us nearer to the Godhead_ Is nonsense, Daya, if not blasphemy. But it does harm: yes, yes, it does indeed. Attend now. To the being, who preserved you, Be he an angel or a man, you both, And thou especially wouldst gladly show Substantial services in just requital. Now to an angel what great services Have ye the power to do? To sing his praise— Melt in transporting contemplation o’er him— Fast on his holiday—and squander alms— What nothingness of use! To me at least It seems your neighbour gains much more than he By all this pious glow. Not by your fasting Is he made fat; not by your squandering, rich; Nor by your transports is his glory exalted; Nor by your faith his might. But to a man—