the wanderer's shadow and the longest tedium and
the stillest hour—have all said unto me: "It is the
highest time!
the stillest hour—have all said unto me: "It is the
highest time!
Nietzsche - v11 - Thus Spake Zarathustra
I am ready.
Whence come the highest mountains? so did I
once ask. Then did I learn that they come out
of the sea.
## p. 186 (#272) ############################################
186
THUS SPAKE ZARATHUSTRA, III.
That testimony is inscribed on their stones, and
on the walls of their summits. Out of the deepest
must the highest come to its height. -
Thus spake Zarathustra on the ridge of the
mountain where it was cold: when, however, he
came into the vicinity of the sea, and at last stood
alone amongst the cliffs, then had he become weary
on his way, and eagerer than ever before.
Everything as yet sleepeth, said he; even the
sea sleepeth. Drowsily and strangely doth its eye
gaze upon me.
But it breatheth warmly-I feel it. And I feel
also that it dreameth. It tosseth about dreamily
on hard pillows.
Hark! Hark! How it groaneth with evil
recollections ! Or evil expectations ?
Ah, I am sad along with thee, thou dusky
monster, and angry with myself even for thy sake.
Ah, that my hand hath not strength enough!
Gladly, indeed, would I free thee from evil
dreams! -
And while Zarathustra thus spake, he laughed
at himself with melancholy and bitterness. What!
Zarathustra, said he, wilt thou even sing consolation
to the sea ?
Ah, thou amiable fool, Zarathustra, thou too-
blindly confiding one! But thus hast thou ever
been: ever hast thou approached confidently all
that is terrible.
Every monster wouldst thou caress. A whiff of
warm breath, a little soft tuft on its paw—; and
immediately wert thou ready to love and lure it.
## p. 187 (#273) ############################################
XLV. —THE WANDERER. 187
Love is the danger of the lonesomest one, love to
anything, if it only live! Laughable, verily, is my
folly and my modesty in love! —
Thus spake Zarathustra, and laughed thereby a
second time. Then, however, he thought of his
abandoned friends—and as if he had done them a
wrong with his thoughts, he upbraided himself
because of his thoughts. And forthwith it came
to pass that the laugher wept—with anger and
longing wept Zarathustra bitterly.
XLVI. —THE VISION AND THE ENIGMA.
1.
When it got abroad among the sailors that
Zarathustra was on board the ship—for a man who
came from the Happy Isles had gone on board
along with him,—there was great curiosity and
expectation. But Zarathustra kept silent for two
days, and was cold and deaf with sadness; so that
he neither answered looks nor questions. On the
evening of the second day, however, he again
opened his ears, though he still kept silent: for
there were many curious and dangerous things
to be heard on board the ship, which came from
afar, and was to go still further. Zarathustra, how-
ever, was fond of all those who make distant
voyages, and dislike to live without danger. And
behold! when listening, his own tongue was at last
loosened, and the ice of his heart broke. Then
did he begin to speak thus:
To you, the daring venturers and adventurers,
## p. 188 (#274) ############################################
188
THUS SPAKE ZARATHUSTRA, III.
enjoy nerous gulljike to
and whoever hath embarked with cunning sails
upon frightful seas,-
To you the enigma-intoxicated, the twilight-
enjoyers, whose souls are allured by flutes to every
treacherous gulf :
-For ye dislike to grope at a thread with
cowardly hand; and where ye can divine, there do
ye hate to calculate-
To you only do I tell the enigma that I saw-
the vision of the lonesomest one. —
Gloomily walked I lately in corpse-coloured twi-
light-gloomily and sternly, with compressed lips.
Not only one sun had set for me.
A path which ascended daringly among boulders,
an evil, lonesome path, which neither herb nor shrub
any longer cheered, a mountain-path, crunched
under the daring of my foot.
Mutely marching over the scornful clinking of
pebbles, trampling the stone that let it slip: thus
did my foot force its way upwards.
Upwards :-in spite of the spirit that drew it
downwards, towards the abyss, the spirit of gravity,
my devil and arch-enemy.
Upwards :-although it sat upon me, half-dwarf,
half-mole; paralysed, paralysing ; dripping lead in
mine ear, and thoughts like drops of lead into my
brain.
"O Zarathustra,” it whispered scornfully, syllable
by syllable, “thou stone of wisdom! Thou threwest
thyself high, but every thrown stone must-fall!
O Zarathustra, thou stone of wisdom, thou sling-
stone, thou star-destroyer! Thyself threwest thou
so high,but every thrown stone-must fall!
## p. 189 (#275) ############################################
XLVI. —THE VISION AND THE ENIGMA. 189
Condemned of thyself, and to thine own stoning :
O Zarathustra, far indeed threwest thou thy stone-
but upon thyself will it recoil ! ”
Then was the dwarf silent; and it lasted long.
The silence, however, oppressed me; and to be thus
in pairs, one is verily lonesomer than when alone!
I ascended, I ascended, I dreamt, I thought,—but
everything oppressed me. A sick one did I re-
semble, whom bad torture wearieth, and a worse
dream reawakeneth out of his first sleep. -
But there is something in me which I call
courage: it hath hitherto slain for me every dejec-
tion. This courage at last bade me stand still and
say: "Dwarf! Thou! Or I! ”-
For courage is the best slayer,—courage which
attacketh : for in every attack there is sound of
triumph.
Man, however, is the most courageous animal :
thereby hath he overcome every animal. With
sound of triumph hath he overcome every pain ;
human pain, however, is the sorest pain.
Courage slayeth also giddiness at abysses: and
where doth man not stand at abysses! Is not
seeing itself-seeing abysses ?
Courage is the best slayer : courage slayeth also
fellow-suffering. Fellow-suffering, however, is the
deepest abyss : as deeply as man looketh into life,
so deeply also doth he look into suffering.
Courage, however, is the best slayer, courage
which attacketh: it slayeth even death itself; for
it saith : “ Was that life? Well! Once more ! ”
In such speech, however, there is much sound of
triumph. He who hath ears to hear, let him hear. -
## p. 190 (#276) ############################################
190 THUS SPAKE ZARATHUSTRA, III
2.
"Halt, dwarf! " said I. "Either I—or thou! I,
however, am the stronger of the two—: thou
knowest not mine abysmal thought! It—couldst
thou not endure! "
Then happened that which made me lighter: for
the dwarf sprang from my shoulder, the prying
sprite! And it squatted on a stone in front of
me. There was however a gateway just where we
halted.
"Look at this gateway! Dwarf! " I continued,
"it hath two faces. Two roads come together
here: these hath no one yet gone to the end of.
This long lane backwards: it continueth for an
eternity. And that long lane forward—that is
another eternity.
They are antithetical to one another, these roads;
they directly abut on one another:—and it is here,
at this gateway, that they come together. The
name of the gateway is inscribed above: 'This
Moment. '
But should one follow them further—and ever
further and further on, thinkest thou, dwarf, that
these roads would be eternally antithetical ? "—
"Everything straight lieth," murmured the dwarf,
contemptuously. "All truth is crooked ; time itself
is a circle. "
"Thou spirit of gravity! " said I wrathfully, " do
not take it too lightly! Or I shall let thee squat
where thou squattest, Haltfoot,—and I carried thee
high! "
"Observe," continued I, "This Moment! From
## p. 191 (#277) ############################################
XLVI. —THE VISION AND THE ENIGMA. 191
the gateway, This Moment, there runneth a long
eternal lane backwards: behind us lieth an eternity.
Must not whatever can run its course of all
things, have already run along that lane? Must
not whatever can happen of all things have already
happened, resulted, and gone by?
And if everything have already existed, what
thinkest thou, dwarf, of This Moment? Must not
this gateway also—have already existed?
And are not all things closely bound together in
such wise that This Moment draweth all coming
things after it? Consequently itself also?
For whatever can run its course of all things, also
in this long lane outward—must it once more run ! —
And this slow spider which creepeth in the
moonlight, and this moonlight itself, and thou and
I in this gateway whispering together, whispering
of eternal things—must we not all have already
existed?
—And must we not return and run in that
other lane out before us, that long weird lane—
must we not eternally return ? "—
Thus did I speak, and always more softly: for I
was afraid of mine own thoughts, and arrear-
thoughts. Then, suddenly did I hear a dog howl
near me.
Had I ever heard a dog howl thus? My thoughts
ran back. Yes! When I was a child, in my most
distant childhood:
—Then did I hear a dog howl thus. And saw
it also, with hair bristling, its head upwards,
trembling in the stilliest midnight, when even dogs
believe in ghosts:
## p. 192 (#278) ############################################
192
THUS SPAKE ZARATHUSTRA, III.
-So that it excited my commiseration. For just
then went the full moon, silent as death, over the
house; just then did it stand still, a glowing globe
-at rest on the flat roof, as if on some one's
property :-
Thereby had the dog been terrified : for dogs
believe in thieves and ghosts. And when I again
heard such howling, then did it excite my com-
miseration once more.
Where was now the dwarf? And the gateway?
And the spider? And all the whispering ? Had
I dreamt? Had I awakened? 'Twixt rugged
rocks did I suddenly stand alone, dreary in the
dreariest moonlight.
But there lay a man! And there! The dog
leaping, bristling, whining—now did it see me
coming—then did it howl again, then did it cry :-
had I ever heard a dog cry so for help?
And verily, what I saw, the like had I never seen.
A young shepherd did I see, writhing, choking,
quivering, with distorted countenance, and with a
heavy black serpent hanging out of his mouth.
Had I ever seen so much loathing and pale horror
on one countenance ? He had perhaps gone to
sleep? Then had the serpent crawled into his
throat-there had it bitten itself fast.
My hand pulled at the serpent, and pulled :—in
vain! I failed to pull the serpent out of his
throat. Then there cried out of me: “Bite! Bite!
Its head off! Bite! ”—so cried it out of me;
my horror, my hatred, my loathing, my pity, all
my good and my bad cried with one voice out
of me. -
## p. 193 (#279) ############################################
XLVI. —THE VISION AND THE ENIGMA. 193
Ye daring ones around me! Ye venturers and
adventurers, and whoever of you hath embarked
with cunning sails on unexplored seas! Ye
enigma-enjoyers !
Solve unto me the enigma that I then beheld,
interpret unto me the vision of the lonesomest one !
For it was a vision and a foresight :—what did
I then behold in parable? And who is it that
must come some day?
Who is the shepherd into whose throat the
serpent thus crawled? Who is the man into whose
throat all the heaviest and blackest will thus crawl?
- The shepherd however bit as my cry had
admonished him; he bit with a strong bite! Far
away did he spit the head of the serpent—; and
sprang up. -
No longer shepherd, no longer man— a trans-
figured being, a light-surrounded being, that
laughed! Never on earth laughed a man as he
laughed !
O my brethren, I heard a laughter which was h
no human laughter,--and now gnaweth a thirst
at me, a longing that is never allayed.
My longing for that laughter gnaweth at me:
oh, how can I still endure to live! And how could
I endure to die at present ! -
Thus spake Zarathustra.
XLVII. -INVOLUNTARY BLISS.
With such enigmas and bitterness in his heart
did Zarathustra sail o'er the sea. When, however,
## p. 194 (#280) ############################################
194 THUS SPAKE ZARATHUSTRA, III.
he was four day-journeys from the Happy Isles
and from his friends, then had he surmounted all
his pain—: triumphantly and with firm foot did he
again accept his fate. And then talked Zarathustra
in this wise to his exulting conscience:
Alone am I again, and like to be so, alone
with the pure heaven, and the open sea; and again
is the afternoon around me.
On an afternoon did I find my friends for the
first time; on an afternoon, also, did I find them a
second time :—at the hour when all light becometh
stiller.
For whatever happiness is still on its way 'twixt
heaven and earth, now seeketh for lodging a
luminous soul: with happiness hath all light now
become stiller.
O afternoon of my life! Once did my happi-
ness also descend to the valley that it might seek
a lodging: then did it find those open hospitable
souls.
O afternoon of my life! What did I not sur-
render that I might have one thing: this living
plantation of my thoughts, and this dawn of my
highest hope!
Companions did the creating one once seek, and
children of his hope: and lo, it turned out that he
could not find them, except he himself should first
create them.
Thus am I in the midst of my work, to my
children going, and from them returning: for the
sake of his children must Zarathustra perfect
himself.
## p. 195 (#281) ############################################
XLVII. -INVOLUNTARY BLISS.
195
For in one's heart one loveth only one's child
and one's work; and where there is great love to
oneself, then is it the sign of pregnancy: so have I
found it.
Still are my children verdant in their first spring,
standing nigh one another, and shaken in common
by the winds, the trees of my garden and of my
best soil.
And verily, where such trees stand beside one
another, there are Happy Isles !
But one day will I take them up, and put each
by itself alone : that it may learn lonesomeness
and defiance and prudence.
Gnarled and crooked and with flexible hardness
shall it then stand by the sea, a living lighthouse
of unconquerable life.
Yonder where the storms rush down into the
sea, and the snout of the mountain drinketh water,
shall each on a time have his day and night
watches, for his testing and recognition.
Recognised and tested shall each be, to see if he
be of my type and lineage :-if he be master of a
long will, silent even when he speaketh, and giving
in such wise that he taketh in giving :-
-So that he may one day become my com-
panion, a fellow-creator and fellow-enjoyer with
Zarathustra :-such a one as writeth my will on
my tables, for the fuller perfection of all things.
And for his sake and for those like him, must I
perfect myself: therefore do I now avoid my
happiness, and present myself to every misfortune-
for my final testing and recognition.
And verily, it were time that I went away; and
## p. 196 (#282) ############################################
196 THUS SPAKE ZARATHUSTRA, III.
the wanderer's shadow and the longest tedium and
the stillest hour—have all said unto me: "It is the
highest time! "
The word blew to me through the keyhole and
said "Come! " The door sprang subtlely open
unto me, and said " Go! "
But I lay enchained to my love for my children:
desire spread this snare for me—the desire for love
—that I should become the prey of my children,
and lose myself in them.
Desiring—that is now for me to have lost myself.
I possess you, my children! In this possessing shall
everything be assurance and nothing desire.
But brooding lay the sun of my love upon me,
in his own juice stewed Zarathustra,—then did
shadows and doubts fly past me.
For frost and winter I now longed: "Oh, that
frost and winter would again make me crack and
crunch! " sighed I:—then arose icy mist out of me.
My past burst its tomb, many pains buried alive
woke up—: fully slept had they merely, concealed
in corpse-clothes.
So called everything unto me in signs: "It is
time! " But I—heard not, until at last mine abyss
moved, and my thought bit me.
Ah, abysmal thought, which art my thought!
When shall I find strength to hear thee burrowing,
and no longer tremble?
To my very throat throbbeth my heart when I
hear thee burrowing! Thy muteness even is like
to strangle me, thou abysmal mute one!
As yet have I never ventured to call thee up;
it hath been enough that I—have carried thee
## p. 197 (#283) ############################################
XLVII. -INVOLUNTARY BLISS.
197
about with me! As yet have I not been strong
enough for my final lion-wantonness and play-
fulness.
Sufficiently formidable unto me hath thy weight
ever been : but one day shall I yet find the strength
and the lion's voice which will call thee up!
When I shall have surmounted myself therein,
then will I surmount myself also in that which is
greater; and a victory shall be the seal of my
perfection !
Meanwhile do I sail along on uncertain seas;
chance flattereth me, smooth-tongued chance; for-
ward and backward do I gaze-, still see I no end.
As yet hath the hour of my final struggle not
come to me-or doth it come to me perhaps just
now? Verily, with insidious beauty do sea and
life gaze upon me round about :
O afternoon of my life! O happiness before
eventide! O haven upon high seas! O peace in
uncertainty! How I distrust all of you !
Verily, distrustful am I of your insidious beauty !
Like the lover am I, who distrusteth too sleek
smiling.
As he pusheth the best-beloved before him-
tender even in severity, the jealous one“, so do I
push this blissful hour before me.
Away with thee, thou blissful hour! With thee
hath there come to me an involuntary bliss !
Ready for my severest pain do I here stand :-at
the wrong time hast thou come!
Away with thee, thou blissful hour! Rather
harbour there—with my children! Hasten! and
bless them before eventide with my happiness !
## p. 197 (#284) ############################################
196 THUS SPAKE ZARATHUSTRA, III.
the wanderer's shadow and the longest tedium and
the stillest hour—have all said unto me: "It is the
highest time! "
The word blew to me through the keyhole and
said "Come! " The door sprang subtlely open
unto me, and said " Go! "
But I lay enchained to my love for my children:
desire spread this snare for me—the desire for love
—that I should become the prey of my children,
and lose myself in them.
Desiring—that is now for me to have lost myself.
I possess you, my children! In this possessing shall
everything be assurance and nothing desire.
But brooding lay the sun of my love upon me,
in his own juice stewed Zarathustra,—then did
shadows and doubts fly past me.
For frost and winter I now longed: "Oh, that
frost and winter would again make me crack and
crunch ! " sighed I:—then arose icy mist out of me.
My past burst its tomb, many pains buried alive
woke up—: fully slept had they merely, concealed
in corpse-clothes.
So called everything unto me in signs: "It is
time! " But I—heard not, until at last mine abyss
moved, and my thought bit me.
Ah, abysmal thought, which art my thought!
When shall I find strength to hear thee burrowing,
and no longer tremble?
To my very throat throbbeth my heart when I
hear thee burrowing! Thy muteness even is like
to strangle me, thou abysmal mute one!
As yet have I never ventured to call thee uf>;
it hath been enough that I—have carried thee
1
## p. 197 (#285) ############################################
XLVII. —INVOLUNTARY BLISS. 197
about with me! As yet have I not been strong
enough for my final lion-wantonness and play-
fulness.
Sufficiently formidable unto me hath thy weight
ever been: but one day shall I yet find the strength
and the lion's voice which will call thee up!
When I shall have surmounted myself therein,
then will I surmount myself also in that which is
greater; and a victory shall be the seal of my
perfection ! —
Meanwhile do I sail along on uncertain seas;
chance flattereth me, smooth-tongued chance; for-
ward and backward do I gaze—, still see I no end.
As yet hath the hour of my final struggle not
come to me—or doth it come to me perhaps just
now? Verily, with insidious beauty do sea and
life gaze upon me round about:
O afternoon of my life! O happiness before
eventide! O haven upon high seas! O peace in
uncertainty! How I distrust all of you!
Verily, distrustful am I of your insidious beauty!
Like the lover am I, who distrusteth too sleek
smiling.
As he pusheth the best-beloved before him—
tender even in severity, the jealous one—, so do I
push this blissful hour before me.
Away with thee, thou blissful hour! With thee
hath there come to me an involuntary bliss!
Ready for my severest pain do I here stand:—at
the wrong time hast thou come!
Away with thee, thou blissful hour! Rather
harbour there—with my children! Hasten! and
bless them before eventide with my happiness!
## p. 198 (#286) ############################################
198
THUS SPAKE ZARATHUSTRA, III.
There, already approacheth eventide : the sun
sinketh. Away—my happiness !
Thus spake Zarathustra. And he waited for his
misfortune the whole night; but he waited in vain.
The night remained clear and calm, and happiness
itself came nigher and nigher unto him. Towards
morning, however, Zarathustra laughed to his
heart, and said mockingly : “Happiness runneth
after me. That is because I do not run after
women. Happiness, however, is a woman. ”
XLVIII. -BEFORE SUNRISE.
O heaven above me, thou pure, thou deep
heaven! Thou abyss of light! Gazing on thee, I
tremble with divine desires.
Up to thy height to toss myself—that is my
depth! In thy purity to hide myself—that is mine
innocence!
The God veileth his beauty: thus hidest thou
thy stars. Thou speakest not: thus proclaimest
thou thy wisdom unto me.
Mute o'er the raging sea hast thou risen for me
to-day; thy love and thy modesty make a revela-
tion unto my raging soul.
In that thou camest unto me beautiful, veiled in
thy beauty, in that thou spakest unto me mutely,
obvious in thy wisdom:
Oh, how could I fail to divine all the modesty of
thy soul! Before the sun didst thou come unto
me—the lonesomest one.
## p. 199 (#287) ############################################
XLVIII. —BEFORE SUNRISE. 199
We have been friends from the beginning: to us
are grief, gruesomeness, and ground common; even
the sun is common to us.
We do not speak to each other, because we
know too much—: we keep silent to each other, we
smile our knowledge to each other.
Art thou not the light of my fire? Hast thou
not the sister-soul of mine insight?
Together did we learn everything; together did
we learn to ascend beyond ourselves to ourselves,
and to smile uncloudedly :—
—Uncloudedly to smile down out of luminous
eyes and out of miles of distance, when under us
constraint and purpose and guilt steam like rain.
And wandered I alone, for what did my soul
hunger by night and in labyrinthine paths? And
climbed I mountains, whom did I ever seek, if not
thee, upon mountains?
And all my wandering and mountain-climbing:
a necessity was it merely, and a makeshift of the
unhandy one:—\o fly only, wanteth my entire will,
to fly into thee!
And what have I hated more than passing clouds,
and whatever tainteth thee? And mine own hatred
have I even hated, because it tainted thee!
The passing clouds I detest—those stealthy cats
of prey: they take from thee and me what is
common to us—the vast unbounded Yea- and
Amen-saying.
These mediators and mixers we detest—the
passing clouds: those half-and-half ones, that have
neither learned to bless nor to curse from the
heart.
## p. 200 (#288) ############################################
200
THUS SPAKE ZARATHUSTRA, III.
Rather will I sit in a tub under a closed heaven,
rather will I sit in the abyss without heaven, than
see thee, thou luminous heaven, tainted with passing
clouds !
And oft have I longed to pin them fast with the
jagged gold-wires of lightning, that I might, like
the thunder, beat the drum upon their kettle-
bellies :-
-An angry drummer, because they rob me of
thy Yea and Amen ! —thou heaven above me, thou
pure, thou luminous heaven! Thou abyss of
light ! —because they rob thee of my Yea and
Amen.
For rather will I have noise and thunders and
tempest-blasts, than this discreet, doubting cat-
repose; and also amongst men do I hate most of
all the soft-treaders, and half-and-half ones, and
the doubting, hesitating, passing clouds.
And "he who cannot bless shall learn to curse! ”
-this clear teaching dropt unto me from the clear
heaven; this star standeth in my heaven even in
dark nights.
I, however, am a blesser and a Yea-sayer, if thou
be but around me, thou pure, thou luminous
heaven! Thou abyss of light ! -into all abysses do
I then carry my beneficent Yea-saying.
A blesser have I become and a Yea-sayer : and
therefore strove I long and was a striver, that I
might one day get my hands free for blessing.
This, however, is my blessing: to stand above
everything as its own heaven, its round roof, its
azure bell and eternal security: and blessed is he
who thus blesseth !
## p. 201 (#289) ############################################
XLVIII. —BEFORE SUNRISE. 201
For all things are baptized at the font of eternity,
and beyond good and evil ; good and evil them-
selves, however, are but fugitive shadows and damp
afflictions and passing clouds.
Verily, it is a blessing and not a blasphemy when
I teach that "above all things there standeth the
heaven of chance, the heaven of innocence, the
heaven of hazard, the heaven of wantonness. "
"Of Hazard "—that is the oldest nobility in the
world; that gave I back to all things; I emanci-
pated them from bondage under purpose.
This freedom and celestial serenity did I put like
an azure bell above all things, when I taught that
over them and through them, no "eternal will"—
willeth.
This wantonness and folly did I put in place of
that will, when I taught that " In everything there
is one thing impossible—rationality! "
A little reason, to be sure, a germ of wisdom
scattered from star to star—this leaven is mixed in
all things: for the sake of folly, wisdom is mixed
in all things!
A little wisdom is indeed possible; but this
blessed security have I found in all things, that
they prefer—to dance on the feet of chance.
O heaven above me! thou pure, thou lofty
heaven! This is now thy purity unto me, that
there is no eternal reason-spider and reason-
cobweb :—
—That thou art to me a dancing-floor for divine
chances, that thou art to me a table of the Gods,
for divine dice and dice-players ! —
But thou blushest? Have I spoken unspeakable
## p. 202 (#290) ############################################
202
THUS SPAKE ZARATHUSTRA, III.
things? Have I abused, when I meant to bless
thee?
Or is it the shame of being two of us that
maketh thee blush ! —Dost thou bid me go and be
silent, because now-day cometh ?
The world is deep—; and deeper than e'er the
day could read. Not everything may be uttered in
presence of day. But day cometh : so let us part !
O heaven above me, thou modest one! thou
glowing one! O thou, my happiness before sun-
rise! The day cometh : so let us part ! -
Thus spake Zarathustra.
XLIX. —THE BEDWARFING VIRTUE.
1.
When Zarathustra was again on the continent,
he did not go straightway to his mountains and his
cave, but made many wanderings and questionings,
and ascertained this and that; so that he said of
himself jestingly: “Lo, a river that floweth back
unto its source in many windings ! ” For he wanted
to learn what had taken place among men during
the interval : whether they had become greater or
smaller. And once, when he saw a row of new
houses, he marvelled, and said.
“What do these houses mean? Verily, no great
soul put them up as its simile !
Did perhaps a silly child take them out of its
toy-box? Would that another child put them
again into the box!
And these rooms and chambers—can men go out
## p. 203 (#291) ############################################
XLIX. —THE BEDWARFING VIRTUE. 203
and in there? They seem to be made for silk dolls;
or for dainty-eaters, who perhaps let others eat
with them. "
And Zarathustra stood still and meditated. At
last he said sorrowfully: "There hath everything
become smaller!
Everywhere do I see lower doorways: he who
is of my type can still go therethrough, but—he
must stoop!
Oh, when shall I arrive again at my home, where
I shall no longer have to stoop—shall no longer
have to stoop before the small ones I"—And Zara-
thustra sighed, and gazed into the distance. —
The same day, however, he gave his discourse
on the bedwarfing virtue.
2.
I pass through this people and keep mine eyes
open: they do not forgive me for not envying
their virtues.
They bite at me, because I say unto them that
for small people, small virtues are necessary—and
because it is hard for me to understand that small
people are necessary!
Here am I still like a cock in a strange farm-yard,
at which even the hens peck: but on that account
I am not unfriendly to the hens.
I am courteous towards them, as towards all small
annoyances; to be prickly towards what is small,
seemeth to me wisdom for hedgehogs.
They all speak of me when they sit around their
fire in the evening—they speak of me, but no one
thinketh—of me!
## p. 204 (#292) ############################################
204 THUS SPAKE ZARATHUSTRA, III.
This is the new stillness which I have experi-
enced: their noise around me spreadeth a mantle
over my thoughts.
They shout to one another: "What is this gloomy
cloud about to do to us? Let us see that it doth
not bring a plague upon us! "
And recently did a woman seize upon her child
that was coming unto me: "Take the children
away," cried she," such eyes scorch children's souls. "
They cough when I speak: they think coughing
an objection to strong winds—they divine nothing
of the boisterousness of my happiness!
"We have not yet time for Zarathustra"—so
they object; but what matter about a time that
"hath no time" for Zarathustra?
And if they should altogether praise me, how
could I go to sleep on their praise? A girdle of
spines is their praise unto me: it scratcheth me
even when I take it off.
And this also did I learn among them: the
praiser doeth as if he gave back; in truth, however,
he wanteth more to be given him!
Whence come the highest mountains? so did I
once ask. Then did I learn that they come out
of the sea.
## p. 186 (#272) ############################################
186
THUS SPAKE ZARATHUSTRA, III.
That testimony is inscribed on their stones, and
on the walls of their summits. Out of the deepest
must the highest come to its height. -
Thus spake Zarathustra on the ridge of the
mountain where it was cold: when, however, he
came into the vicinity of the sea, and at last stood
alone amongst the cliffs, then had he become weary
on his way, and eagerer than ever before.
Everything as yet sleepeth, said he; even the
sea sleepeth. Drowsily and strangely doth its eye
gaze upon me.
But it breatheth warmly-I feel it. And I feel
also that it dreameth. It tosseth about dreamily
on hard pillows.
Hark! Hark! How it groaneth with evil
recollections ! Or evil expectations ?
Ah, I am sad along with thee, thou dusky
monster, and angry with myself even for thy sake.
Ah, that my hand hath not strength enough!
Gladly, indeed, would I free thee from evil
dreams! -
And while Zarathustra thus spake, he laughed
at himself with melancholy and bitterness. What!
Zarathustra, said he, wilt thou even sing consolation
to the sea ?
Ah, thou amiable fool, Zarathustra, thou too-
blindly confiding one! But thus hast thou ever
been: ever hast thou approached confidently all
that is terrible.
Every monster wouldst thou caress. A whiff of
warm breath, a little soft tuft on its paw—; and
immediately wert thou ready to love and lure it.
## p. 187 (#273) ############################################
XLV. —THE WANDERER. 187
Love is the danger of the lonesomest one, love to
anything, if it only live! Laughable, verily, is my
folly and my modesty in love! —
Thus spake Zarathustra, and laughed thereby a
second time. Then, however, he thought of his
abandoned friends—and as if he had done them a
wrong with his thoughts, he upbraided himself
because of his thoughts. And forthwith it came
to pass that the laugher wept—with anger and
longing wept Zarathustra bitterly.
XLVI. —THE VISION AND THE ENIGMA.
1.
When it got abroad among the sailors that
Zarathustra was on board the ship—for a man who
came from the Happy Isles had gone on board
along with him,—there was great curiosity and
expectation. But Zarathustra kept silent for two
days, and was cold and deaf with sadness; so that
he neither answered looks nor questions. On the
evening of the second day, however, he again
opened his ears, though he still kept silent: for
there were many curious and dangerous things
to be heard on board the ship, which came from
afar, and was to go still further. Zarathustra, how-
ever, was fond of all those who make distant
voyages, and dislike to live without danger. And
behold! when listening, his own tongue was at last
loosened, and the ice of his heart broke. Then
did he begin to speak thus:
To you, the daring venturers and adventurers,
## p. 188 (#274) ############################################
188
THUS SPAKE ZARATHUSTRA, III.
enjoy nerous gulljike to
and whoever hath embarked with cunning sails
upon frightful seas,-
To you the enigma-intoxicated, the twilight-
enjoyers, whose souls are allured by flutes to every
treacherous gulf :
-For ye dislike to grope at a thread with
cowardly hand; and where ye can divine, there do
ye hate to calculate-
To you only do I tell the enigma that I saw-
the vision of the lonesomest one. —
Gloomily walked I lately in corpse-coloured twi-
light-gloomily and sternly, with compressed lips.
Not only one sun had set for me.
A path which ascended daringly among boulders,
an evil, lonesome path, which neither herb nor shrub
any longer cheered, a mountain-path, crunched
under the daring of my foot.
Mutely marching over the scornful clinking of
pebbles, trampling the stone that let it slip: thus
did my foot force its way upwards.
Upwards :-in spite of the spirit that drew it
downwards, towards the abyss, the spirit of gravity,
my devil and arch-enemy.
Upwards :-although it sat upon me, half-dwarf,
half-mole; paralysed, paralysing ; dripping lead in
mine ear, and thoughts like drops of lead into my
brain.
"O Zarathustra,” it whispered scornfully, syllable
by syllable, “thou stone of wisdom! Thou threwest
thyself high, but every thrown stone must-fall!
O Zarathustra, thou stone of wisdom, thou sling-
stone, thou star-destroyer! Thyself threwest thou
so high,but every thrown stone-must fall!
## p. 189 (#275) ############################################
XLVI. —THE VISION AND THE ENIGMA. 189
Condemned of thyself, and to thine own stoning :
O Zarathustra, far indeed threwest thou thy stone-
but upon thyself will it recoil ! ”
Then was the dwarf silent; and it lasted long.
The silence, however, oppressed me; and to be thus
in pairs, one is verily lonesomer than when alone!
I ascended, I ascended, I dreamt, I thought,—but
everything oppressed me. A sick one did I re-
semble, whom bad torture wearieth, and a worse
dream reawakeneth out of his first sleep. -
But there is something in me which I call
courage: it hath hitherto slain for me every dejec-
tion. This courage at last bade me stand still and
say: "Dwarf! Thou! Or I! ”-
For courage is the best slayer,—courage which
attacketh : for in every attack there is sound of
triumph.
Man, however, is the most courageous animal :
thereby hath he overcome every animal. With
sound of triumph hath he overcome every pain ;
human pain, however, is the sorest pain.
Courage slayeth also giddiness at abysses: and
where doth man not stand at abysses! Is not
seeing itself-seeing abysses ?
Courage is the best slayer : courage slayeth also
fellow-suffering. Fellow-suffering, however, is the
deepest abyss : as deeply as man looketh into life,
so deeply also doth he look into suffering.
Courage, however, is the best slayer, courage
which attacketh: it slayeth even death itself; for
it saith : “ Was that life? Well! Once more ! ”
In such speech, however, there is much sound of
triumph. He who hath ears to hear, let him hear. -
## p. 190 (#276) ############################################
190 THUS SPAKE ZARATHUSTRA, III
2.
"Halt, dwarf! " said I. "Either I—or thou! I,
however, am the stronger of the two—: thou
knowest not mine abysmal thought! It—couldst
thou not endure! "
Then happened that which made me lighter: for
the dwarf sprang from my shoulder, the prying
sprite! And it squatted on a stone in front of
me. There was however a gateway just where we
halted.
"Look at this gateway! Dwarf! " I continued,
"it hath two faces. Two roads come together
here: these hath no one yet gone to the end of.
This long lane backwards: it continueth for an
eternity. And that long lane forward—that is
another eternity.
They are antithetical to one another, these roads;
they directly abut on one another:—and it is here,
at this gateway, that they come together. The
name of the gateway is inscribed above: 'This
Moment. '
But should one follow them further—and ever
further and further on, thinkest thou, dwarf, that
these roads would be eternally antithetical ? "—
"Everything straight lieth," murmured the dwarf,
contemptuously. "All truth is crooked ; time itself
is a circle. "
"Thou spirit of gravity! " said I wrathfully, " do
not take it too lightly! Or I shall let thee squat
where thou squattest, Haltfoot,—and I carried thee
high! "
"Observe," continued I, "This Moment! From
## p. 191 (#277) ############################################
XLVI. —THE VISION AND THE ENIGMA. 191
the gateway, This Moment, there runneth a long
eternal lane backwards: behind us lieth an eternity.
Must not whatever can run its course of all
things, have already run along that lane? Must
not whatever can happen of all things have already
happened, resulted, and gone by?
And if everything have already existed, what
thinkest thou, dwarf, of This Moment? Must not
this gateway also—have already existed?
And are not all things closely bound together in
such wise that This Moment draweth all coming
things after it? Consequently itself also?
For whatever can run its course of all things, also
in this long lane outward—must it once more run ! —
And this slow spider which creepeth in the
moonlight, and this moonlight itself, and thou and
I in this gateway whispering together, whispering
of eternal things—must we not all have already
existed?
—And must we not return and run in that
other lane out before us, that long weird lane—
must we not eternally return ? "—
Thus did I speak, and always more softly: for I
was afraid of mine own thoughts, and arrear-
thoughts. Then, suddenly did I hear a dog howl
near me.
Had I ever heard a dog howl thus? My thoughts
ran back. Yes! When I was a child, in my most
distant childhood:
—Then did I hear a dog howl thus. And saw
it also, with hair bristling, its head upwards,
trembling in the stilliest midnight, when even dogs
believe in ghosts:
## p. 192 (#278) ############################################
192
THUS SPAKE ZARATHUSTRA, III.
-So that it excited my commiseration. For just
then went the full moon, silent as death, over the
house; just then did it stand still, a glowing globe
-at rest on the flat roof, as if on some one's
property :-
Thereby had the dog been terrified : for dogs
believe in thieves and ghosts. And when I again
heard such howling, then did it excite my com-
miseration once more.
Where was now the dwarf? And the gateway?
And the spider? And all the whispering ? Had
I dreamt? Had I awakened? 'Twixt rugged
rocks did I suddenly stand alone, dreary in the
dreariest moonlight.
But there lay a man! And there! The dog
leaping, bristling, whining—now did it see me
coming—then did it howl again, then did it cry :-
had I ever heard a dog cry so for help?
And verily, what I saw, the like had I never seen.
A young shepherd did I see, writhing, choking,
quivering, with distorted countenance, and with a
heavy black serpent hanging out of his mouth.
Had I ever seen so much loathing and pale horror
on one countenance ? He had perhaps gone to
sleep? Then had the serpent crawled into his
throat-there had it bitten itself fast.
My hand pulled at the serpent, and pulled :—in
vain! I failed to pull the serpent out of his
throat. Then there cried out of me: “Bite! Bite!
Its head off! Bite! ”—so cried it out of me;
my horror, my hatred, my loathing, my pity, all
my good and my bad cried with one voice out
of me. -
## p. 193 (#279) ############################################
XLVI. —THE VISION AND THE ENIGMA. 193
Ye daring ones around me! Ye venturers and
adventurers, and whoever of you hath embarked
with cunning sails on unexplored seas! Ye
enigma-enjoyers !
Solve unto me the enigma that I then beheld,
interpret unto me the vision of the lonesomest one !
For it was a vision and a foresight :—what did
I then behold in parable? And who is it that
must come some day?
Who is the shepherd into whose throat the
serpent thus crawled? Who is the man into whose
throat all the heaviest and blackest will thus crawl?
- The shepherd however bit as my cry had
admonished him; he bit with a strong bite! Far
away did he spit the head of the serpent—; and
sprang up. -
No longer shepherd, no longer man— a trans-
figured being, a light-surrounded being, that
laughed! Never on earth laughed a man as he
laughed !
O my brethren, I heard a laughter which was h
no human laughter,--and now gnaweth a thirst
at me, a longing that is never allayed.
My longing for that laughter gnaweth at me:
oh, how can I still endure to live! And how could
I endure to die at present ! -
Thus spake Zarathustra.
XLVII. -INVOLUNTARY BLISS.
With such enigmas and bitterness in his heart
did Zarathustra sail o'er the sea. When, however,
## p. 194 (#280) ############################################
194 THUS SPAKE ZARATHUSTRA, III.
he was four day-journeys from the Happy Isles
and from his friends, then had he surmounted all
his pain—: triumphantly and with firm foot did he
again accept his fate. And then talked Zarathustra
in this wise to his exulting conscience:
Alone am I again, and like to be so, alone
with the pure heaven, and the open sea; and again
is the afternoon around me.
On an afternoon did I find my friends for the
first time; on an afternoon, also, did I find them a
second time :—at the hour when all light becometh
stiller.
For whatever happiness is still on its way 'twixt
heaven and earth, now seeketh for lodging a
luminous soul: with happiness hath all light now
become stiller.
O afternoon of my life! Once did my happi-
ness also descend to the valley that it might seek
a lodging: then did it find those open hospitable
souls.
O afternoon of my life! What did I not sur-
render that I might have one thing: this living
plantation of my thoughts, and this dawn of my
highest hope!
Companions did the creating one once seek, and
children of his hope: and lo, it turned out that he
could not find them, except he himself should first
create them.
Thus am I in the midst of my work, to my
children going, and from them returning: for the
sake of his children must Zarathustra perfect
himself.
## p. 195 (#281) ############################################
XLVII. -INVOLUNTARY BLISS.
195
For in one's heart one loveth only one's child
and one's work; and where there is great love to
oneself, then is it the sign of pregnancy: so have I
found it.
Still are my children verdant in their first spring,
standing nigh one another, and shaken in common
by the winds, the trees of my garden and of my
best soil.
And verily, where such trees stand beside one
another, there are Happy Isles !
But one day will I take them up, and put each
by itself alone : that it may learn lonesomeness
and defiance and prudence.
Gnarled and crooked and with flexible hardness
shall it then stand by the sea, a living lighthouse
of unconquerable life.
Yonder where the storms rush down into the
sea, and the snout of the mountain drinketh water,
shall each on a time have his day and night
watches, for his testing and recognition.
Recognised and tested shall each be, to see if he
be of my type and lineage :-if he be master of a
long will, silent even when he speaketh, and giving
in such wise that he taketh in giving :-
-So that he may one day become my com-
panion, a fellow-creator and fellow-enjoyer with
Zarathustra :-such a one as writeth my will on
my tables, for the fuller perfection of all things.
And for his sake and for those like him, must I
perfect myself: therefore do I now avoid my
happiness, and present myself to every misfortune-
for my final testing and recognition.
And verily, it were time that I went away; and
## p. 196 (#282) ############################################
196 THUS SPAKE ZARATHUSTRA, III.
the wanderer's shadow and the longest tedium and
the stillest hour—have all said unto me: "It is the
highest time! "
The word blew to me through the keyhole and
said "Come! " The door sprang subtlely open
unto me, and said " Go! "
But I lay enchained to my love for my children:
desire spread this snare for me—the desire for love
—that I should become the prey of my children,
and lose myself in them.
Desiring—that is now for me to have lost myself.
I possess you, my children! In this possessing shall
everything be assurance and nothing desire.
But brooding lay the sun of my love upon me,
in his own juice stewed Zarathustra,—then did
shadows and doubts fly past me.
For frost and winter I now longed: "Oh, that
frost and winter would again make me crack and
crunch! " sighed I:—then arose icy mist out of me.
My past burst its tomb, many pains buried alive
woke up—: fully slept had they merely, concealed
in corpse-clothes.
So called everything unto me in signs: "It is
time! " But I—heard not, until at last mine abyss
moved, and my thought bit me.
Ah, abysmal thought, which art my thought!
When shall I find strength to hear thee burrowing,
and no longer tremble?
To my very throat throbbeth my heart when I
hear thee burrowing! Thy muteness even is like
to strangle me, thou abysmal mute one!
As yet have I never ventured to call thee up;
it hath been enough that I—have carried thee
## p. 197 (#283) ############################################
XLVII. -INVOLUNTARY BLISS.
197
about with me! As yet have I not been strong
enough for my final lion-wantonness and play-
fulness.
Sufficiently formidable unto me hath thy weight
ever been : but one day shall I yet find the strength
and the lion's voice which will call thee up!
When I shall have surmounted myself therein,
then will I surmount myself also in that which is
greater; and a victory shall be the seal of my
perfection !
Meanwhile do I sail along on uncertain seas;
chance flattereth me, smooth-tongued chance; for-
ward and backward do I gaze-, still see I no end.
As yet hath the hour of my final struggle not
come to me-or doth it come to me perhaps just
now? Verily, with insidious beauty do sea and
life gaze upon me round about :
O afternoon of my life! O happiness before
eventide! O haven upon high seas! O peace in
uncertainty! How I distrust all of you !
Verily, distrustful am I of your insidious beauty !
Like the lover am I, who distrusteth too sleek
smiling.
As he pusheth the best-beloved before him-
tender even in severity, the jealous one“, so do I
push this blissful hour before me.
Away with thee, thou blissful hour! With thee
hath there come to me an involuntary bliss !
Ready for my severest pain do I here stand :-at
the wrong time hast thou come!
Away with thee, thou blissful hour! Rather
harbour there—with my children! Hasten! and
bless them before eventide with my happiness !
## p. 197 (#284) ############################################
196 THUS SPAKE ZARATHUSTRA, III.
the wanderer's shadow and the longest tedium and
the stillest hour—have all said unto me: "It is the
highest time! "
The word blew to me through the keyhole and
said "Come! " The door sprang subtlely open
unto me, and said " Go! "
But I lay enchained to my love for my children:
desire spread this snare for me—the desire for love
—that I should become the prey of my children,
and lose myself in them.
Desiring—that is now for me to have lost myself.
I possess you, my children! In this possessing shall
everything be assurance and nothing desire.
But brooding lay the sun of my love upon me,
in his own juice stewed Zarathustra,—then did
shadows and doubts fly past me.
For frost and winter I now longed: "Oh, that
frost and winter would again make me crack and
crunch ! " sighed I:—then arose icy mist out of me.
My past burst its tomb, many pains buried alive
woke up—: fully slept had they merely, concealed
in corpse-clothes.
So called everything unto me in signs: "It is
time! " But I—heard not, until at last mine abyss
moved, and my thought bit me.
Ah, abysmal thought, which art my thought!
When shall I find strength to hear thee burrowing,
and no longer tremble?
To my very throat throbbeth my heart when I
hear thee burrowing! Thy muteness even is like
to strangle me, thou abysmal mute one!
As yet have I never ventured to call thee uf>;
it hath been enough that I—have carried thee
1
## p. 197 (#285) ############################################
XLVII. —INVOLUNTARY BLISS. 197
about with me! As yet have I not been strong
enough for my final lion-wantonness and play-
fulness.
Sufficiently formidable unto me hath thy weight
ever been: but one day shall I yet find the strength
and the lion's voice which will call thee up!
When I shall have surmounted myself therein,
then will I surmount myself also in that which is
greater; and a victory shall be the seal of my
perfection ! —
Meanwhile do I sail along on uncertain seas;
chance flattereth me, smooth-tongued chance; for-
ward and backward do I gaze—, still see I no end.
As yet hath the hour of my final struggle not
come to me—or doth it come to me perhaps just
now? Verily, with insidious beauty do sea and
life gaze upon me round about:
O afternoon of my life! O happiness before
eventide! O haven upon high seas! O peace in
uncertainty! How I distrust all of you!
Verily, distrustful am I of your insidious beauty!
Like the lover am I, who distrusteth too sleek
smiling.
As he pusheth the best-beloved before him—
tender even in severity, the jealous one—, so do I
push this blissful hour before me.
Away with thee, thou blissful hour! With thee
hath there come to me an involuntary bliss!
Ready for my severest pain do I here stand:—at
the wrong time hast thou come!
Away with thee, thou blissful hour! Rather
harbour there—with my children! Hasten! and
bless them before eventide with my happiness!
## p. 198 (#286) ############################################
198
THUS SPAKE ZARATHUSTRA, III.
There, already approacheth eventide : the sun
sinketh. Away—my happiness !
Thus spake Zarathustra. And he waited for his
misfortune the whole night; but he waited in vain.
The night remained clear and calm, and happiness
itself came nigher and nigher unto him. Towards
morning, however, Zarathustra laughed to his
heart, and said mockingly : “Happiness runneth
after me. That is because I do not run after
women. Happiness, however, is a woman. ”
XLVIII. -BEFORE SUNRISE.
O heaven above me, thou pure, thou deep
heaven! Thou abyss of light! Gazing on thee, I
tremble with divine desires.
Up to thy height to toss myself—that is my
depth! In thy purity to hide myself—that is mine
innocence!
The God veileth his beauty: thus hidest thou
thy stars. Thou speakest not: thus proclaimest
thou thy wisdom unto me.
Mute o'er the raging sea hast thou risen for me
to-day; thy love and thy modesty make a revela-
tion unto my raging soul.
In that thou camest unto me beautiful, veiled in
thy beauty, in that thou spakest unto me mutely,
obvious in thy wisdom:
Oh, how could I fail to divine all the modesty of
thy soul! Before the sun didst thou come unto
me—the lonesomest one.
## p. 199 (#287) ############################################
XLVIII. —BEFORE SUNRISE. 199
We have been friends from the beginning: to us
are grief, gruesomeness, and ground common; even
the sun is common to us.
We do not speak to each other, because we
know too much—: we keep silent to each other, we
smile our knowledge to each other.
Art thou not the light of my fire? Hast thou
not the sister-soul of mine insight?
Together did we learn everything; together did
we learn to ascend beyond ourselves to ourselves,
and to smile uncloudedly :—
—Uncloudedly to smile down out of luminous
eyes and out of miles of distance, when under us
constraint and purpose and guilt steam like rain.
And wandered I alone, for what did my soul
hunger by night and in labyrinthine paths? And
climbed I mountains, whom did I ever seek, if not
thee, upon mountains?
And all my wandering and mountain-climbing:
a necessity was it merely, and a makeshift of the
unhandy one:—\o fly only, wanteth my entire will,
to fly into thee!
And what have I hated more than passing clouds,
and whatever tainteth thee? And mine own hatred
have I even hated, because it tainted thee!
The passing clouds I detest—those stealthy cats
of prey: they take from thee and me what is
common to us—the vast unbounded Yea- and
Amen-saying.
These mediators and mixers we detest—the
passing clouds: those half-and-half ones, that have
neither learned to bless nor to curse from the
heart.
## p. 200 (#288) ############################################
200
THUS SPAKE ZARATHUSTRA, III.
Rather will I sit in a tub under a closed heaven,
rather will I sit in the abyss without heaven, than
see thee, thou luminous heaven, tainted with passing
clouds !
And oft have I longed to pin them fast with the
jagged gold-wires of lightning, that I might, like
the thunder, beat the drum upon their kettle-
bellies :-
-An angry drummer, because they rob me of
thy Yea and Amen ! —thou heaven above me, thou
pure, thou luminous heaven! Thou abyss of
light ! —because they rob thee of my Yea and
Amen.
For rather will I have noise and thunders and
tempest-blasts, than this discreet, doubting cat-
repose; and also amongst men do I hate most of
all the soft-treaders, and half-and-half ones, and
the doubting, hesitating, passing clouds.
And "he who cannot bless shall learn to curse! ”
-this clear teaching dropt unto me from the clear
heaven; this star standeth in my heaven even in
dark nights.
I, however, am a blesser and a Yea-sayer, if thou
be but around me, thou pure, thou luminous
heaven! Thou abyss of light ! -into all abysses do
I then carry my beneficent Yea-saying.
A blesser have I become and a Yea-sayer : and
therefore strove I long and was a striver, that I
might one day get my hands free for blessing.
This, however, is my blessing: to stand above
everything as its own heaven, its round roof, its
azure bell and eternal security: and blessed is he
who thus blesseth !
## p. 201 (#289) ############################################
XLVIII. —BEFORE SUNRISE. 201
For all things are baptized at the font of eternity,
and beyond good and evil ; good and evil them-
selves, however, are but fugitive shadows and damp
afflictions and passing clouds.
Verily, it is a blessing and not a blasphemy when
I teach that "above all things there standeth the
heaven of chance, the heaven of innocence, the
heaven of hazard, the heaven of wantonness. "
"Of Hazard "—that is the oldest nobility in the
world; that gave I back to all things; I emanci-
pated them from bondage under purpose.
This freedom and celestial serenity did I put like
an azure bell above all things, when I taught that
over them and through them, no "eternal will"—
willeth.
This wantonness and folly did I put in place of
that will, when I taught that " In everything there
is one thing impossible—rationality! "
A little reason, to be sure, a germ of wisdom
scattered from star to star—this leaven is mixed in
all things: for the sake of folly, wisdom is mixed
in all things!
A little wisdom is indeed possible; but this
blessed security have I found in all things, that
they prefer—to dance on the feet of chance.
O heaven above me! thou pure, thou lofty
heaven! This is now thy purity unto me, that
there is no eternal reason-spider and reason-
cobweb :—
—That thou art to me a dancing-floor for divine
chances, that thou art to me a table of the Gods,
for divine dice and dice-players ! —
But thou blushest? Have I spoken unspeakable
## p. 202 (#290) ############################################
202
THUS SPAKE ZARATHUSTRA, III.
things? Have I abused, when I meant to bless
thee?
Or is it the shame of being two of us that
maketh thee blush ! —Dost thou bid me go and be
silent, because now-day cometh ?
The world is deep—; and deeper than e'er the
day could read. Not everything may be uttered in
presence of day. But day cometh : so let us part !
O heaven above me, thou modest one! thou
glowing one! O thou, my happiness before sun-
rise! The day cometh : so let us part ! -
Thus spake Zarathustra.
XLIX. —THE BEDWARFING VIRTUE.
1.
When Zarathustra was again on the continent,
he did not go straightway to his mountains and his
cave, but made many wanderings and questionings,
and ascertained this and that; so that he said of
himself jestingly: “Lo, a river that floweth back
unto its source in many windings ! ” For he wanted
to learn what had taken place among men during
the interval : whether they had become greater or
smaller. And once, when he saw a row of new
houses, he marvelled, and said.
“What do these houses mean? Verily, no great
soul put them up as its simile !
Did perhaps a silly child take them out of its
toy-box? Would that another child put them
again into the box!
And these rooms and chambers—can men go out
## p. 203 (#291) ############################################
XLIX. —THE BEDWARFING VIRTUE. 203
and in there? They seem to be made for silk dolls;
or for dainty-eaters, who perhaps let others eat
with them. "
And Zarathustra stood still and meditated. At
last he said sorrowfully: "There hath everything
become smaller!
Everywhere do I see lower doorways: he who
is of my type can still go therethrough, but—he
must stoop!
Oh, when shall I arrive again at my home, where
I shall no longer have to stoop—shall no longer
have to stoop before the small ones I"—And Zara-
thustra sighed, and gazed into the distance. —
The same day, however, he gave his discourse
on the bedwarfing virtue.
2.
I pass through this people and keep mine eyes
open: they do not forgive me for not envying
their virtues.
They bite at me, because I say unto them that
for small people, small virtues are necessary—and
because it is hard for me to understand that small
people are necessary!
Here am I still like a cock in a strange farm-yard,
at which even the hens peck: but on that account
I am not unfriendly to the hens.
I am courteous towards them, as towards all small
annoyances; to be prickly towards what is small,
seemeth to me wisdom for hedgehogs.
They all speak of me when they sit around their
fire in the evening—they speak of me, but no one
thinketh—of me!
## p. 204 (#292) ############################################
204 THUS SPAKE ZARATHUSTRA, III.
This is the new stillness which I have experi-
enced: their noise around me spreadeth a mantle
over my thoughts.
They shout to one another: "What is this gloomy
cloud about to do to us? Let us see that it doth
not bring a plague upon us! "
And recently did a woman seize upon her child
that was coming unto me: "Take the children
away," cried she," such eyes scorch children's souls. "
They cough when I speak: they think coughing
an objection to strong winds—they divine nothing
of the boisterousness of my happiness!
"We have not yet time for Zarathustra"—so
they object; but what matter about a time that
"hath no time" for Zarathustra?
And if they should altogether praise me, how
could I go to sleep on their praise? A girdle of
spines is their praise unto me: it scratcheth me
even when I take it off.
And this also did I learn among them: the
praiser doeth as if he gave back; in truth, however,
he wanteth more to be given him!
