Heavy unto him are earth and life, and so
willeth the spirit of gravity!
willeth the spirit of gravity!
Nietzsche - v11 - Thus Spake Zarathustra
If one announce
one's wisdom with bells, the shopmen in the market-
place will out-jingle it with pennies!
Everything among them talketh ; no one knoweth
any longer how to understand. Everything falleth
into the water; nothing falleth any longer into
deep wells.
Everything among them talketh, nothing suc-
ceeded! any longer and accomplisheth itself.
Everything cackleth, but who will still sit quietly
on the nest and hatch eggs?
Everything among them talketh, everything is
P
## p. 225 (#320) ############################################
224 THUS SPAKE ZARATHUSTRA, III.
Uprightly and openly mayest thou here talk to
all things: and verily, it soundeth as praise in their
ears, for one to talk to all things—directly!
Another matter, however, is forsakenness. For,
dost thou remember, O Zarathustra? When thy
bird screamed overhead, when thou stoodest in the
forest, irresolute, ignorant where to go, beside a
corpse:—
—When thou spakest: 'Let mine animals lead
me! More dangerous have I found it among men
than among animals :'—That was forsakenness!
And dost thou remember, O Zarathustra? When
thou sattest in thine isle, a well of wine giving and
granting amongst empty buckets, bestowing and
distributing amongst the thirsty:
—Until at last thou alone sattest thirsty amongst
the drunken ones, and wailedst nightly: 'Is taking
not more blessed than giving? And stealing yet
more blessed than taking? '—That was forsaken-
ness!
And dost thou remember, O Zarathustra? When
thy stillest hour came and drove thee forth from
thyself, when with wicked whispering it said:
'Speak and succumb! '—
—When it disgusted thee with all thy waiting
and silence, and discouraged thy humble courage:
That was forsakenness! "—
O lonesomeness! My home, lonesomeness!
How blessedly and tenderly speaketh thy voice
unto me!
We do not question each other, we do not
complain to each other; we go together openly
through open doors.
## p. 225 (#321) ############################################
LIII. —THE RETURN HOME. 22$
For all is open with thee and clear; and even
the hours run here on lighter feet. For in the dark,
time weigheth heavier upon one than in the light.
Here fly open unto me all being's words and
word-cabinets: here all being wanteth to become
words, here all becoming wanteth to learn of me
how to talk.
Down there, however—all talking is in vain!
There, forgetting and passing-by are the best
wisdom: that have I learned now!
He who would understand everything in man
must handle everything. But for that I have too
clean hands.
I do not like even to inhale their breath; alas!
that I have lived so long among their noise and
bad breaths!
O blessed stillness around me! O pure odours
around me! How from a deep breast this stillness
fetcheth pure breath! How it hearkeneth, this
blessed stillness!
But down there—there speaketh everything,
there is everything misheard. If one announce
one's wisdom with bells, the shopmen in the market-
place will out-jingle it with pennies!
Everything among them talketh ; no one knoweth
any longer how to understand. Everything falleth
into the water; nothing falleth any longer into
deep wells.
Everything among them talketh, nothing suc-
ceedeth any longer and accomplisheth itself.
Everything cackleth, but who will still sit quietly
on the nest and hatch eggs?
Everything among them talketh, everything is
P
## p. 226 (#322) ############################################
226
THUS SPAKE ZARATHUSTRA, III.
out-talked. And that which yesterday was still
too hard for time itself and its tooth, hangeth to-
day, outchamped and outchewed, from the mouths
of the men of to-day.
Everything among them talketh, everything is
betrayed. And what was once called the secret
and secrecy of profound souls, belongeth to-day to
the street-trumpeters and other butterflies.
O human hubbub, thou wonderful thing! Thou
noise in dark streets! Now art thou again behind
me :—my greatest danger lieth behind me!
In indulging and pitying lay ever my greatest
danger; and all human hubbub wisheth to be
indulged and tolerated.
With suppressed truths, with fool's hand and
befooled heart, and rich in petty lies of pity :-thus
have I ever lived among men.
Disguised did I sit amongst them, ready to mis-
judge myself that I might endure them, and willingly
saying to myself: "Thou fool, thou dost not know
men! ”
One unlearneth men when one liveth amongst
them : there is too much foreground in all men-
what can far-seeing, far-longing eyes do there!
And, fool that I was, when they misjudged me,
I indulged them on that account more than myself,
being habitually hard on myself, and often even
taking revenge on myself for the indulgence.
Stung all over by poisonous flies, and hollowed
like the stone by many drops of wickedness: thus
did I sit among them, and still said to myself:
" Innocent is everything petty of its pettiness ! ”
Especially did I find those who call themselves
## p. 227 (#323) ############################################
LIII. —THE RETURN HOME.
227
“ the good,” the most poisonous flies: they sting in
all innocence, they lie in all innocence; how could
they-be just towards me!
He who liveth amongst the good-pity teacheth
him to lie. Pity maketh stifling air for all free souls.
For the stupidity of the good is unfathomable.
To conceal myself and my riches—that did I
learn down there : for every one did I still find
poor in spirit. It was the lie of my pity, that I
knew in every one,
- That I saw and scented in every one, what was
enough of spirit for him, and what was too much !
Their stiff wise men : I call them wise, not stiff-
thus did I learn to slur over words.
The grave-diggers dig for themselves diseases.
Under old rubbish rest bad vapours. One should
not stir up the marsh. One should live on
mountains.
With blessed nostrils do I again breathe mountain-
freedom. Freed at last is my nose from the smell
of all human hubbub !
With sharp breezes tickled, as with sparkling
wine, sneezeth my soul-sneezeth, and shouteth
self-congratulatingly : “Health to thee! ”.
Thus spake Zarathustra.
LIV. -THE THREE EVIL THINGS.
1.
In my dream, in my last morning-dream, I stood
to-day on a promontory_beyond the world; I held
a pair of scales, and weighed the world.
## p. 228 (#324) ############################################
228
THUS SPAKE ZARATHUSTRA, III.
Alas, that the rosy dawn came too early to me :
she glowed me awake, the jealous one! Jealous is
she always of the glows of my morning-dream.
Measurable by him who hath time, weighable
by a good weigher, attainable by strong pinions,
divinable by divine nut-crackers : thus did my
dream find the world :-
My dream, a bold sailor, half-ship, half-hurricane,
silent as the butterfly, impatient as the falcon : how
had it the patience and leisure to-day for world-
weighing!
Did my wisdom perhaps speak secretly to it, my
laughing, wide-awake day-wisdom, which mocketh
at all “infinite worlds "? For it saith: “Where
force is, there becometh number the master : it hath
more force. ”
How confidently did my dream contemplate this
finite world, not new-fangledly, not old-fangledly,
not timidly, not entreatingly :-
--As if a big round apple presented itself to my
hand, a ripe golden apple, with a coolly-soft, velvety
skin :thus did the world present itself unto
me:-
-As if a tree nodded unto me, a broad-branched,
strong-willed tree, curved as a recline and a foot-
stool for weary travellers : thus did the world stand
on my promontory :-
-As if delicate hands carried a casket towards
me-a casket open for the delectation of modest
adoring eyes : thus did the world present itself
before me to-day :
-Not riddle enough to scare human love from
it, not solution enough to put to sleep human
## p. 229 (#325) ############################################
LIV. —THE THREE EVIL THINGS.
229
wisdom :-a humanly good thing was the world to
me to-day, of which such bad things are said !
How I thank my morning-dream that I thus at
to-day's dawn, weighed the world! As a humanly
good thing did it come unto me, this dream and
heart-comforter!
And that I may do the like by day, and imitate
and copy its best, now will I put the three worst
things on the scales, and weigh them humanly
well.
He who taught to bless taught also to curse :
what are the three best cursed things in the world ?
These will I put on the scales.
Voluptuousness, passion for power, and selfishness :
these three things have hitherto been best cursed,
and have been in worst and falsest repute—these
three things will I weigh humanly well.
Well! here is my promontory, and there is the
sea-it rolleth hither unto me, shaggily and fawn-
ingly, the old, faithful, hundred-headed dog-monster
that I love ! -
Well ! Here will I hold the scales over the welter-
ing sea : and also a witness do I choose to look on-
thee, the anchorite-tree, thee, the strong-odoured,
broad-arched tree that I love ! --
On what bridge goeth the now to the hereafter ?
By what constraint doth the high stoop to the low?
And what enjoineth even the highest still—to grow
upwards ?
Now stand the scales poised and at rest : three
heavy questions have I thrown in; three heavy
answers carrieth the other scale,
## p. 230 (#326) ############################################
230 THUS SPAKE ZARATHUSTRA, III.
Voluptuousness: unto all hair-shirted despisers
of the body, a sting and stake; and, cursed as "the
world," by all backworldsmen: for it mocketh and
befooleth all erring, misinferring teachers.
Voluptuousness: to the rabble, the slow fire at
which it is burnt; to all wormy wood, to all stink-
ing rags, the prepared heat and stew furnace.
Voluptuousness: to free hearts, a thing innocent
and free, the garden-happiness of the earth, all the
future's thanks-overflow to the present.
Voluptuousness: only to the withered a sweet
poison; to the lion-willed, however, the great
cordial, and the reverently saved wine of wines.
Voluptuousness: the great symbolic happiness of
a higher happiness and highest hope. For to many
is marriage promised, and more than marriage,—
—To many that are more unknown to each
other than man and woman :—and who hath fully
understood how unknown to each other are man
and woman!
Voluptuousness :—but I will have hedges around
my thoughts, and even around my words, lest
swine and libertine should break into my gardens! —
Passion for power: the glowing scourge of the
hardest of the heart-hard; the cruel torture reserved
for the cruellest themselves; the gloomy flame of
living pyres.
Passion for power: the wicked gadfly which is
mounted on the vainest peoples; the scorner of all
uncertain virtue; which rideth on every horse and
on every pride.
## p. 231 (#327) ############################################
LIV. —THE THREE EVIL THINGS. 231
Passion for power: the earthquake which breaketh
and upbreaketh all that is rotten and hollow; the
rolling, rumbling, punitive demolisher of whited
sepulchres; the flashing interrogative-sign beside
premature answers.
Passion for power: before whose glance man
creepeth and croucheth and drudgeth, and becometh
lower than the serpent and the swine :—until at last
great contempt crieth out of him—,
Passion for power: the terrible teacher of
great contempt, which preacheth to their face to
cities and empires: "Away with thee ! "—until
a voice crieth out of themselves: "Away with
me! "
Passion for power: which, however, mounteth
alluringly even to the pure and lonesome, and
up to self-satisfied elevations, glowing like a love
that painteth purple felicities alluringly on earthly
heavens.
Passion for power: but who would call it passion,
when the height longeth to stoop for power!
Verily, nothing sick or diseased is there in such
longing and descending!
That the lonesome height may not for ever
remain lonesome and self-sufficing; that the
mountains may come to the valleys and the winds
of the heights to the plains :—
Oh, who could find the right prenomen and
honouring name for such longing! " Bestowing
virtue"—thus did Zarathustra once name the
unnamable.
And then it happened also,—and verily, it
happened for the first time! —that his word blessed.
## p. 232 (#328) ############################################
232
THUS SPAKE ZARATHUSTRA, III.
selfishness, the wholesome, healthy selfishness, that
springeth from the powerful soul :-
-From the powerful soul, to which the high
body appertaineth, the handsome, triumphing,
refreshing body, around which everything becometh
a mirror :
- The pliant, persuasive body, the dancer, whose
symbol and epitome is the self-enjoying soul. Of
such bodies and souls the self-enjoyment calleth
itself“ virtue. ”
With its words of good and bad doth such self-
enjoyment shelter itself as with sacred groves; with
the names of its happiness doth it banish from
itself everything contemptible.
Away from itself doth it banish everything
cowardly; it saith: “Bad—that is cowardly !
Contemptible seem to it the ever-solicitous, the
sighing, the complaining, and whoever picketh up
the most trifling advantage.
It despiseth also all bitter-sweet wisdom: for
verily, there is also wisdom that bloometh in the
dark, a night-shade wisdom, which ever sigheth:
“ All is vain! ”
Shy distrust is regarded by it as base, and every
one who wanteth oaths instead of looks and hands :
also all over-distrustful wisdom,—for such is the
mode of cowardly souls.
Baser still it regardeth the obsequious, doggish
one, who immediately lieth on his back, the sub-
missive one; and there is also wisdom that is
submissive, and doggish, and pious, and obsequious.
Hateful to it altogether, and a loathing, is he
who will never defend himself, he who swalloweth
## p. 233 (#329) ############################################
LIV. —THE THREE EVIL THINGS. 233
down poisonous spittle and bad looks, the all-too-
patient one, the all-endurer, the all-satisfied one:
for that is the mode of slaves.
Whether they be servile before Gods and divine
spurnings, or before men and stupid human
opinions: at all kinds of slaves doth it spit, this
blessed selfishness!
Bad: thus doth it call all that is spirit-broken,
and sordidly-servile—constrained, blinking eyes,
depressed hearts, and the false submissive style,
which kisseth with broad cowardly lips.
And spurious wisdom: so doth it call all the
wit that slaves, and hoary-headed and weary ones
affect; and especially all the cunning, spurious-
witted, curious-witted foolishness of priests!
The spurious wise, however, all the priests, the
world-weary, and those whose souls are of feminine
and servile nature—oh, how hath their game all
along abused selfishness!
And precisely that was to be virtue and was to be
called virtue—to abuse selfishness! And " selfless"
—so did they wish themselves with good reason, all
those world-weary cowards and cross-spiders!
But to all those cometh now the day, the change,
the sword of judgment, the great noontide: then
shall many things be revealed!
And he who proclaimeth the ego wholesome and
holy, and selfishness blessed, verily, he, the prog-
nosticator, speaketh also what he knoweth: "Be-
hold, it cometh, it is nigh, the great noontide! "
Thus spake Zarathustra,
## p. 233 (#330) ############################################
232 THUS SPAKE ZARATHUSTRA, III.
selfishness, the wholesome, healthy selfishness, ths
springeth from the powerful soul:—
—From the powerful soul, to which the hig-J
body appertaineth, the handsome, triumphing
refreshing body, around which everything becometfc
a mirror:
—The pliant, persuasive body, the dancer, whose
symbol and epitome is the self-enjoying soul. Of
such bodies and souls the self-enjoyment calleth
itself " virtue. "
With its words of good and bad doth such self-
enjoyment shelter itself as with sacred groves; with
the names of its happiness doth it banish from
itself everything contemptible.
Away from itself doth it banish everything
cowardly; it saith: "Bad—that is cowardly!
Contemptible seem to it the ever-solicitous, the
sighing, the complaining, and whoever picketh up
the most trifling advantage.
It despiseth also all bitter-sweet wisdom: for
verily, there is also wisdom that bloometh in the
dark, a night-shade wisdom, which ever sigheth:
"All is vain! "
Shy distrust is regarded by it as base, and every
one who wanteth oaths instead of looks and hands:
also all over-distrustful wisdom,—for such is the
mode of cowardly souls.
Baser still it regardeth the obsequious, doggish
one, who immediately lieth on his back, the sub-
missive one; and there is also wisdom that is
submissive, and doggish, and pious, and obsequious.
Hateful to it altogether, and a loathing, is he
who will never defend himself, he who swalloweth
## p. 233 (#331) ############################################
LIV. —THE THREE EVIL THINGS. 233
down poisonous spittle and bad looks, the all-too-
patient one, the all-endurer, the all-satisfied one:
for that is the mode of slaves.
Whether they be servile before Gods and divine
spurnings, or before men and stupid human
opinions: at all kinds of slaves doth it spit, this
blessed selfishness!
Bad: thus doth it call all that is spirit-broken,
and sordidly-servile—constrained, blinking eyes,
depressed hearts, and the false submissive style,
which kisseth with broad cowardly lips.
And spurious wisdom: so doth it call all the
wit that slaves, and hoary-headed and weary ones
affect; and especially all the cunning, spurious-
witted, curious-witted foolishness of priests!
The spurious wise, however, all the priests, the
world-weary, and those whose souls are of feminine
and servile nature—oh, how hath their game all
along abused selfishness!
And precisely that was to be virtue and was to be
called virtue—to abuse selfishness! And "selfless"
—so did they wish themselves with good reason, all
those world-weary cowards and cross-spiders!
But to all those cometh now the day, the change,
the sword of judgment, the great noontide: then
shall many things be revealed!
And he who proclaimeth the ego wholesome and
holy, and selfishness blessed, verily, he, the prog-
nosticator, speaketh also what he knoweth: '. 'Be-
hold, it cometh, it is nigh, the great noontide! "
Thus spake Zarathustra,
## p. 234 (#332) ############################################
234 THUS SPAKE ZARATHUSTRA, III.
LV. —THE SPIRIT OF GRAVITY.
i.
My mouthpiece—is of the people: too coarsely
and cordially do I talk for Angora rabbits. And
still stranger soundeth my word unto all ink-fish
and pen-foxes.
My hand—is a fool's hand: woe unto all tables
and walls, and whatever hath room for fool's
sketching, fool's scrawling!
My foot—is a horse-foot; therewith do I trample
and trot over stick and stone, in the fields up and
down, and am bedevilled with delight in all fast
racing.
My stomach—is surely an eagle's stomach? For
it preferreth lamb's flesh. Certainly it is a bird's
stomach.
Nourished with innocent things, and with few,
ready and impatient to fly, to fly away—that is
now my nature: why should there not be something
of bird-nature therein!
And especially that I am hostile to the spirit
of gravity, that is bird-nature: and verily, deadly
hostile, supremely hostile, originally hostile! Oh,
whither hath my hostility not flown and misflown!
Thereof could I sing a song and will sing
it: though I be alone in an empty house, and must
sing it to mine own ears.
Other singers are there, to be sure, to whom only
the full house maketh the voice soft, the hand
eloquent, the eye expressive, the heart wakeful:—
those do I not resemble. —
## p. 235 (#333) ############################################
LV. —THE SPIRIT OF GRAVITY. 235
2.
He who one day teacheth men to fly will have
shifted all landmarks; to him will all landmarks
themselves fly into the air; the earth will he
christen anew—as " the light body. "
The ostrich runneth faster than the fastest horse,
but it also thrusteth its head heavily into the heavy
earth: thus is it with the man who cannot yet fly.
Heavy unto him are earth and life, and so
willeth the spirit of gravity! But he who wisheth to
become light, and be a bird, must love himself:—
thus do / teach.
Not, to be sure, with the love of the sick and
infected, for with them stinketh even self-love!
One must learn to love oneself—thus do I teach
—with a wholesome and healthy love: that one
may endure to be with oneself, and not go roving
about.
Such roving about christeneth itself "brotherly
love "; with these words hath there hitherto been
the best lying and dissembling, and especially by
those who have been burdensome to every one.
And verily, it is no commandment for to-day and
to-morrow to learn to love oneself. Rather is it of
all arts the finest, subtlest, last and patientest.
For to its possessor is all possession well con-
cealed, and of all treasure-pits one's own is last
excavated—so causeth the spirit of gravity.
Almost in the cradle are we apportioned with
heavy words and worths: "good" and "evil "—so
calleth itself this dowry. For the sake of it we are
forgiven for living.
## p. 236 (#334) ############################################
236 THUS SPAKE ZARATHUSTRA, III.
And therefore suffereth one little children to
come unto one, to forbid them betimes to love
themselves—so causeth the spirit of gravity.
And we—we bear loyally what is apportioned
unto us, on hard shoulders, over rugged mountains!
And when we sweat, then do people say to us:
"Yea, life is hard to bear! "
But man himself only is hard to bear! The
reason thereof is that he carrieth too many
extraneous things on his shoulders. Like the
camel kneeleth he down, and letteth himself be well
laden.
Especially the strong load-bearing man in whom
reverence resideth. Too many extraneous heavy
words and worths loadeth he upon himself—then
seemeth life to him a desert!
And verily! Many a thing also that is our own
is hard to bear! And many internal things in man
are like the oyster—repulsive and slippery and
hard to grasp ;—
So that an elegant shell, with elegant adornment,
must plead for them. But this art also must one
learn: to have a shell, and a fine appearance, and
sagacious blindness!
Again, it deceiveth about many things in man,
that many a shell is poor and pitiable, and too much
of a shell. Much concealed goodness and power
is never dreamt of; the choicest dainties find no
tasters!
Women know that, the choicest of them: a little
fatter, a little leaner—oh, how much fate is in so
little!
Man is difficult to discover, and unto himself most
## p. 237 (#335) ############################################
LV. —THE SPIRIT OF GRAVITY.
237
difficult of all ; often lieth the spirit concerning the
soul. So causeth the spirit of gravity.
He, however, hath discovered himself who saith :
This is my good and evil : therewith hath he
silenced the mole and the dwarf, who say: “Good
for all, evil for all. ”
Verily, neither do I like those who call every-
thing good, and this world the best of all. Those
do I call the all-satisfied.
All-satisfiedness, which knoweth how to taste
everything,—that is not the best taste! I honour
the refractory, fastidious tongues and stomachs,
which have learned to say “I” and “Yea" and
“Nay. ”
To chew and digest everything, however-that
is the genuine swine-nature! Ever to say YE-A-
that hath only the ass learnt, and those like it!
Deep yellow and hot red-so wanteth my taste-
it mixeth blood with all colours. He, however, who
whitewasheth his house, betrayeth unto me a white-
washed soul.
With mummies, some fall in love ; others with
phantoms: both alike hostile to all flesh and
blood—oh, how repugnant are both to my taste !
For I love blood.
And there will I not reside and abide where
every one spitteth and speweth : that is now my
taste, ~rather would I live amongst thieves and
perjurers. Nobody carrieth gold in his mouth.
Still more repugnant unto me, however, are all
lickspittles; and the most repugnant animal of man
that I found, did I christen "parasite": it would
not love, and would yet live by love.
## p. 238 (#336) ############################################
238
THUS SPAKE ZARATHUSTRA, III.
Unhappy do I call all those who have only one
choice: either to become evil beasts, or evil beast-
tamers. Amongst such would I not build my
tabernacle.
Unhappy do I also call those who have ever to
wait,they are repugnant to my taste—all the
toll-gatherers and traders, and kings, and other
landkeepers and shopkeepers.
Verily, I learned waiting also, and thoroughly
so,—but only waiting for myself. And above all
did I learn standing and walking and running and
leaping and climbing and dancing
This however is my teaching: he who wisheth
one day to fly, must first learn standing and walk-
ing and running and climbing and dancing :-one
doth not fly into flying !
With rope-ladders learned I to reach many a
window, with nimble legs did I climb high masts :
to sit on high masts of perception seemed to me no
small bliss ;
-To flicker like small flames on high masts: a
small light, certainly, but a great comfort to cast-
away sailors and shipwrecked ones!
By divers ways and wendings did I arrive at my
truth; not by one ladder did I mount to the height
where mine eye roveth into my remoteness.
And unwillingly only did I ask my way—that
was always counter to my taste! Rather did I
question and test the ways themselves.
A testing and a questioning hath been all my
travelling :-and verily, one must also learn to
answer such questioning! That, however,-is my
taste :
## p. 239 (#337) ############################################
LV. —THE SPIRIT OF GRAVITY.
239
-Neither a good nor a bad taste, but my taste, of
which I have no longer either shame or secrecy.
“ This-is now my way, where is yours? ” Thus
did I answer those who asked me “the way. ” For
the way—it doth not exist !
Thus spake Zarathustra.
LVI. -OLD AND NEW TABLES.
Here do I sit and wait, old broken tables around
me and also new half-written tables. When cometh
mine hour ?
– The hour of my descent, of my down-going :
for once more will I go unto men.
For that hour do I now wait: for first must the
signs come unto me that it is mine hour-namely,
the laughing lion with the flock of doves.
Meanwhile do I talk to myself as one who hath
time. No one telleth me anything new, so I tell
myself mine own story.
When I came unto men, then found I them
resting on an old infatuation : all of them thought
they had long known what was good and bad
for men. .
An old wearisome business seemed to them all
discourse about virtue; and he who wished to sleep
well spake of “good” and “bad ”ere retiring to rest.
This somnolence did I disturb when I taught
## p. 239 (#338) ############################################
238 THUS SPAKE ZARATHUSTRA, III.
Unhappy do I call all those who have only one
choice: either to become evil beasts, or evil beast-
tamers. Amongst such would I not build my
tabernacle.
Unhappy do I also call those who have ever to
wait,—they are repugnant to my taste—all the
toll-gatherers and traders, and kings, and other
landkeepers and shopkeepers.
Verily, I learned waiting also, and thoroughly
so,—but only waiting for myself. And above all
did I learn standing and walking and running and
leaping and climbing and dancing.
This however is my teaching: he who wisheth
one day to fly, must first learn standing and walk-
ing and running and climbing and dancing:—one
doth not fly into flying!
With rope-ladders learned I to reach many a
window, with nimble legs did I climb high masts:
to sit on high masts of perception seemed to me no
small bliss ;—
—To flicker like small flames on high masts: a
small light, certainly, but a great comfort to cast-
away sailors and shipwrecked ones!
By divers ways and wendings did I arrive at my
truth; not by one ladder did I mount to the height
where mine eye roveth into my remoteness.
And unwillingly only did I ask my way—that
was always counter to my taste! Rather did I
question and test the ways themselves.
A testing and a questioning hath been all my
travelling:—and verily, one must also learn to
answer such questioning! That, however,—is my
taste:
r
1
## p. 239 (#339) ############################################
LV. —THE SPIRIT OF GRAVITY. 239
—Neither a good nor a bad taste, but my taste, of
which I have no longer either shame or secrecy.
"This—is now my way,—where is yours? " Thus
did I answer those who asked me " the way. " For
the way—it doth not exist!
Thus spake Zarathustra.
LVI. —OLD AND NEW TABLES.
Here do I sit and wait, old broken tables around
me and also new half-written tables. When cometh
mine hour?
—The hour of my descent, of my down-going:
for once more will I go unto men.
For that hour do I now wait: for first must the
signs come unto me that it is mine hour—namely,
the laughing lion with the flock of doves.
Meanwhile do I talk to myself as one who hath
time. No one telleth me anything new, so I tell
myself mine own story.
When I came unto men, then found I them
resting on an old infatuation: all of them thought
they had long known what was good and bad
for men.
An old wearisome business seemed to them all
discourse about virtue; and he who wished to sleep
well spake of " good " and " bad " ere retiring to rest.
This somnolence did I disturb when I taught
## p. 239 (#340) ############################################
238 THUS SPAKE ZARATHUSTRA, III.
Unhappy do I call all those who have only one
choice: either to become evil beasts, or evil beast-
tamers. Amongst such would I not build my
tabernacle.
Unhappy do I also call those who have ever to
wait,—they are repugnant to my taste—all the
toll-gatherers and traders, and kings, and other
landkeepers and shopkeepers.
Verily, I learned waiting also, and thoroughly
so,—but only waiting for myself. And above all
did I learn standing and walking and running and
leaping and climbing and dancing.
This however is my teaching: he who wisheth
one day to fly, must first learn standing and walk-
ing and running and climbing and dancing :—one
doth not fly into flying!
With rope-ladders learned I to reach many a
window, with nimble legs did I climb high masts:
to sit on high masts of perception seemed to me no
small bliss ;—
—To flicker like small flames on high masts: a
small light, certainly, but a great comfort to cast-
away sailors and shipwrecked ones!
By divers ways and wendings did I arrive at my
truth; not by one ladder did I mount to the height
where mine eye roveth into my remoteness.
And unwillingly only did I ask my way—that
was always counter to my taste! Rather did I
question and test the ways themselves.
A testing and a questioning hath been all my
travelling:—and verily, one must also learn to
answer such questioning! That, however,—is my
taste:
1
## p. 239 (#341) ############################################
LV. —THE SPIRIT OF GRAVITY. 239
—Neither a good nor a bad taste, but my taste, of
which I have no longer either shame or secrecy.
"This—is now my way,—where is yours? " Thus
did I answer those who asked me " the way. " For
the way—it doth not exist!
Thus spake Zarathustra.
LVL—OLD AND NEW TABLES.
Here do I sit and wait, old broken tables around
me and also new half-written tables. When cometh
mine hour?
—The hour of my descent, of my down-going:
for once more will I go unto men.
For that hour do I now wait: for first must the
signs come unto me that it is mine hour—namely,
the laughing lion with the flock of doves.
Meanwhile do I talk to myself as one who hath
time. No one telleth me anything new, so I tell
myself mine own story.
2.
When I came unto men, then found I them
resting on an old infatuation: all of them thought
they had long known what was good and bad
for men.
An old wearisome business seemed to them all
discourse about virtue; and he who wished to sleep
well spake of " good " and " bad " ere retiring to rest.
This somnolence did I disturb when I taught
## p. 239 (#342) ############################################
238 THUS SPAKE ZARATHUSTRA, III.
Unhappy do I call all those who have only one
choice: either to become evil beasts, or evil beast-
tamers. Amongst such would I not build my
tabernacle.
Unhappy do I also call those who have ever to
wait,—they are repugnant to my taste—all the
toll-gatherers and traders, and kings, and other
landkeepers and shopkeepers.
Verily, I learned waiting also, and thoroughly
so,—but only waiting for myself. And above all
did I learn standing and walking and running and
leaping and climbing and dancing.
This however is my teaching: he who wisheth
one day to fly, must first learn standing and walk-
ing and running and climbing and dancing:—one
doth not fly into flying!
With rope-ladders learned I to reach many a
window, with nimble legs did I climb high masts:
to sit on high masts of perception seemed to me no
small bliss ;—
—To flicker like small flames on high masts: a
small light, certainly, but a great comfort to cast-
away sailors and shipwrecked ones!
By divers ways and wendings did I arrive at my
truth; not by one ladder did I mount to the height
where mine eye roveth into my remoteness.
And unwillingly only did I ask my way—that
was always counter to my taste! Rather did I
question and test the ways themselves.
A testing and a questioning hath been all my
travelling:—and verily, one must also learn to
answer such questioning! That, however,—is my
taste:
r
1
## p. 239 (#343) ############################################
LV. —THE SPIRIT OF GRAVITY. 239
—Neither a good nor a bad taste, but my taste, of
which I have no longer either shame or secrecy.
"This—is now my way,—where is yours? " Thus
did I answer those who asked me " the way. " For
the way—it doth not exist!
Thus spake Zarathustra.
LVL—OLD AND NEW TABLES.
Here do I sit and wait, old broken tables around
me and also new half-written tables. When cometh
mine hour?
—The hour of my descent, of my down-going:
for once more will I go unto men.
For that hour do I now wait: for first must the
signs come unto me that it is mine hour—namely,
the laughing lion with the flock of doves.
Meanwhile do I talk to myself as one who hath
time. No one telleth me anything new, so I tell
myself mine own story.
2.
When I came unto men, then found I them
resting on an old infatuation: all of them thought
they had long known what was good and bad
for men.
An old wearisome business seemed to them all
discourse about virtue; and he who wished to sleep
well spake of " good " and " bad " ere retiring to rest.
This somnolence did I disturb when I taught
## p. 239 (#344) ############################################
238 THUS SPAKE ZARATHUSTRA, III.
Unhappy do I call all those who have only one
choice: either to become evil beasts, or evil beast-
tamers. Amongst such would I not build my
tabernacle.
Unhappy do I also call those who have ever to
wait,—they are repugnant to my taste—all the
toll-gatherers and traders, and kings, and other
landkeepers and shopkeepers.
Verily, I learned waiting also, and thoroughly
so,—but only waiting for myself. And above all
did I learn standing and walking and running and
leaping and climbing and dancing.
This however is my teaching: he who wisheth
one day to fly, must first learn standing and walk-
ing and running and climbing and dancing:—one
doth not fly into flying!
With rope-ladders learned I to reach many a
window, with nimble legs did I climb high masts:
to sit on high masts of perception seemed to me no
small bliss ;—
—To flicker like small flames on high masts: a
small light, certainly, but a great comfort to cast-
away sailors and shipwrecked ones!
By divers ways and wendings did I arrive at my
truth; not by one ladder did I mount to the height
where mine eye roveth into my remoteness.
And unwillingly only did I ask my way—that
was always counter to my taste! Rather did I
question and test the ways themselves.
A testing and a questioning hath been all my
travelling:—and verily, one must also learn to
answer such questioning! That, however,—is my
taste:
""
1
## p. 239 (#345) ############################################
LV. —THE SPIRIT OF GRAVITY. 239
—Neither a good nor a bad taste, but my taste, of
which I have no longer either shame or secrecy.
"This—is now my way,—where is yours? " Thus
did I answer those who asked me " the way. " For
the way—it doth not exist!
Thus spake Zarathustra.
LVL—OLD AND NEW TABLES.
Here do I sit and wait, old broken tables around
me and also new half-written tables. When cometh
mine hour?
—The hour of my descent, of my down-going:
for once more will I go unto men.
For that hour do I now wait: for first must the
signs come unto me that it is mine hour—namely,
the laughing lion with the flock of doves.
Meanwhile do I talk to myself as one who hath
time. No one telleth me anything new, so I tell
myself mine own story.
2.
When I came unto men, then found I them
resting on an old infatuation: all of them thought
they had long known what was good and bad
for men.
An old wearisome business seemed to them all
discourse about virtue; and he who wished to sleep
well spake of " good " and " bad " ere retiring to rest.
one's wisdom with bells, the shopmen in the market-
place will out-jingle it with pennies!
Everything among them talketh ; no one knoweth
any longer how to understand. Everything falleth
into the water; nothing falleth any longer into
deep wells.
Everything among them talketh, nothing suc-
ceeded! any longer and accomplisheth itself.
Everything cackleth, but who will still sit quietly
on the nest and hatch eggs?
Everything among them talketh, everything is
P
## p. 225 (#320) ############################################
224 THUS SPAKE ZARATHUSTRA, III.
Uprightly and openly mayest thou here talk to
all things: and verily, it soundeth as praise in their
ears, for one to talk to all things—directly!
Another matter, however, is forsakenness. For,
dost thou remember, O Zarathustra? When thy
bird screamed overhead, when thou stoodest in the
forest, irresolute, ignorant where to go, beside a
corpse:—
—When thou spakest: 'Let mine animals lead
me! More dangerous have I found it among men
than among animals :'—That was forsakenness!
And dost thou remember, O Zarathustra? When
thou sattest in thine isle, a well of wine giving and
granting amongst empty buckets, bestowing and
distributing amongst the thirsty:
—Until at last thou alone sattest thirsty amongst
the drunken ones, and wailedst nightly: 'Is taking
not more blessed than giving? And stealing yet
more blessed than taking? '—That was forsaken-
ness!
And dost thou remember, O Zarathustra? When
thy stillest hour came and drove thee forth from
thyself, when with wicked whispering it said:
'Speak and succumb! '—
—When it disgusted thee with all thy waiting
and silence, and discouraged thy humble courage:
That was forsakenness! "—
O lonesomeness! My home, lonesomeness!
How blessedly and tenderly speaketh thy voice
unto me!
We do not question each other, we do not
complain to each other; we go together openly
through open doors.
## p. 225 (#321) ############################################
LIII. —THE RETURN HOME. 22$
For all is open with thee and clear; and even
the hours run here on lighter feet. For in the dark,
time weigheth heavier upon one than in the light.
Here fly open unto me all being's words and
word-cabinets: here all being wanteth to become
words, here all becoming wanteth to learn of me
how to talk.
Down there, however—all talking is in vain!
There, forgetting and passing-by are the best
wisdom: that have I learned now!
He who would understand everything in man
must handle everything. But for that I have too
clean hands.
I do not like even to inhale their breath; alas!
that I have lived so long among their noise and
bad breaths!
O blessed stillness around me! O pure odours
around me! How from a deep breast this stillness
fetcheth pure breath! How it hearkeneth, this
blessed stillness!
But down there—there speaketh everything,
there is everything misheard. If one announce
one's wisdom with bells, the shopmen in the market-
place will out-jingle it with pennies!
Everything among them talketh ; no one knoweth
any longer how to understand. Everything falleth
into the water; nothing falleth any longer into
deep wells.
Everything among them talketh, nothing suc-
ceedeth any longer and accomplisheth itself.
Everything cackleth, but who will still sit quietly
on the nest and hatch eggs?
Everything among them talketh, everything is
P
## p. 226 (#322) ############################################
226
THUS SPAKE ZARATHUSTRA, III.
out-talked. And that which yesterday was still
too hard for time itself and its tooth, hangeth to-
day, outchamped and outchewed, from the mouths
of the men of to-day.
Everything among them talketh, everything is
betrayed. And what was once called the secret
and secrecy of profound souls, belongeth to-day to
the street-trumpeters and other butterflies.
O human hubbub, thou wonderful thing! Thou
noise in dark streets! Now art thou again behind
me :—my greatest danger lieth behind me!
In indulging and pitying lay ever my greatest
danger; and all human hubbub wisheth to be
indulged and tolerated.
With suppressed truths, with fool's hand and
befooled heart, and rich in petty lies of pity :-thus
have I ever lived among men.
Disguised did I sit amongst them, ready to mis-
judge myself that I might endure them, and willingly
saying to myself: "Thou fool, thou dost not know
men! ”
One unlearneth men when one liveth amongst
them : there is too much foreground in all men-
what can far-seeing, far-longing eyes do there!
And, fool that I was, when they misjudged me,
I indulged them on that account more than myself,
being habitually hard on myself, and often even
taking revenge on myself for the indulgence.
Stung all over by poisonous flies, and hollowed
like the stone by many drops of wickedness: thus
did I sit among them, and still said to myself:
" Innocent is everything petty of its pettiness ! ”
Especially did I find those who call themselves
## p. 227 (#323) ############################################
LIII. —THE RETURN HOME.
227
“ the good,” the most poisonous flies: they sting in
all innocence, they lie in all innocence; how could
they-be just towards me!
He who liveth amongst the good-pity teacheth
him to lie. Pity maketh stifling air for all free souls.
For the stupidity of the good is unfathomable.
To conceal myself and my riches—that did I
learn down there : for every one did I still find
poor in spirit. It was the lie of my pity, that I
knew in every one,
- That I saw and scented in every one, what was
enough of spirit for him, and what was too much !
Their stiff wise men : I call them wise, not stiff-
thus did I learn to slur over words.
The grave-diggers dig for themselves diseases.
Under old rubbish rest bad vapours. One should
not stir up the marsh. One should live on
mountains.
With blessed nostrils do I again breathe mountain-
freedom. Freed at last is my nose from the smell
of all human hubbub !
With sharp breezes tickled, as with sparkling
wine, sneezeth my soul-sneezeth, and shouteth
self-congratulatingly : “Health to thee! ”.
Thus spake Zarathustra.
LIV. -THE THREE EVIL THINGS.
1.
In my dream, in my last morning-dream, I stood
to-day on a promontory_beyond the world; I held
a pair of scales, and weighed the world.
## p. 228 (#324) ############################################
228
THUS SPAKE ZARATHUSTRA, III.
Alas, that the rosy dawn came too early to me :
she glowed me awake, the jealous one! Jealous is
she always of the glows of my morning-dream.
Measurable by him who hath time, weighable
by a good weigher, attainable by strong pinions,
divinable by divine nut-crackers : thus did my
dream find the world :-
My dream, a bold sailor, half-ship, half-hurricane,
silent as the butterfly, impatient as the falcon : how
had it the patience and leisure to-day for world-
weighing!
Did my wisdom perhaps speak secretly to it, my
laughing, wide-awake day-wisdom, which mocketh
at all “infinite worlds "? For it saith: “Where
force is, there becometh number the master : it hath
more force. ”
How confidently did my dream contemplate this
finite world, not new-fangledly, not old-fangledly,
not timidly, not entreatingly :-
--As if a big round apple presented itself to my
hand, a ripe golden apple, with a coolly-soft, velvety
skin :thus did the world present itself unto
me:-
-As if a tree nodded unto me, a broad-branched,
strong-willed tree, curved as a recline and a foot-
stool for weary travellers : thus did the world stand
on my promontory :-
-As if delicate hands carried a casket towards
me-a casket open for the delectation of modest
adoring eyes : thus did the world present itself
before me to-day :
-Not riddle enough to scare human love from
it, not solution enough to put to sleep human
## p. 229 (#325) ############################################
LIV. —THE THREE EVIL THINGS.
229
wisdom :-a humanly good thing was the world to
me to-day, of which such bad things are said !
How I thank my morning-dream that I thus at
to-day's dawn, weighed the world! As a humanly
good thing did it come unto me, this dream and
heart-comforter!
And that I may do the like by day, and imitate
and copy its best, now will I put the three worst
things on the scales, and weigh them humanly
well.
He who taught to bless taught also to curse :
what are the three best cursed things in the world ?
These will I put on the scales.
Voluptuousness, passion for power, and selfishness :
these three things have hitherto been best cursed,
and have been in worst and falsest repute—these
three things will I weigh humanly well.
Well! here is my promontory, and there is the
sea-it rolleth hither unto me, shaggily and fawn-
ingly, the old, faithful, hundred-headed dog-monster
that I love ! -
Well ! Here will I hold the scales over the welter-
ing sea : and also a witness do I choose to look on-
thee, the anchorite-tree, thee, the strong-odoured,
broad-arched tree that I love ! --
On what bridge goeth the now to the hereafter ?
By what constraint doth the high stoop to the low?
And what enjoineth even the highest still—to grow
upwards ?
Now stand the scales poised and at rest : three
heavy questions have I thrown in; three heavy
answers carrieth the other scale,
## p. 230 (#326) ############################################
230 THUS SPAKE ZARATHUSTRA, III.
Voluptuousness: unto all hair-shirted despisers
of the body, a sting and stake; and, cursed as "the
world," by all backworldsmen: for it mocketh and
befooleth all erring, misinferring teachers.
Voluptuousness: to the rabble, the slow fire at
which it is burnt; to all wormy wood, to all stink-
ing rags, the prepared heat and stew furnace.
Voluptuousness: to free hearts, a thing innocent
and free, the garden-happiness of the earth, all the
future's thanks-overflow to the present.
Voluptuousness: only to the withered a sweet
poison; to the lion-willed, however, the great
cordial, and the reverently saved wine of wines.
Voluptuousness: the great symbolic happiness of
a higher happiness and highest hope. For to many
is marriage promised, and more than marriage,—
—To many that are more unknown to each
other than man and woman :—and who hath fully
understood how unknown to each other are man
and woman!
Voluptuousness :—but I will have hedges around
my thoughts, and even around my words, lest
swine and libertine should break into my gardens! —
Passion for power: the glowing scourge of the
hardest of the heart-hard; the cruel torture reserved
for the cruellest themselves; the gloomy flame of
living pyres.
Passion for power: the wicked gadfly which is
mounted on the vainest peoples; the scorner of all
uncertain virtue; which rideth on every horse and
on every pride.
## p. 231 (#327) ############################################
LIV. —THE THREE EVIL THINGS. 231
Passion for power: the earthquake which breaketh
and upbreaketh all that is rotten and hollow; the
rolling, rumbling, punitive demolisher of whited
sepulchres; the flashing interrogative-sign beside
premature answers.
Passion for power: before whose glance man
creepeth and croucheth and drudgeth, and becometh
lower than the serpent and the swine :—until at last
great contempt crieth out of him—,
Passion for power: the terrible teacher of
great contempt, which preacheth to their face to
cities and empires: "Away with thee ! "—until
a voice crieth out of themselves: "Away with
me! "
Passion for power: which, however, mounteth
alluringly even to the pure and lonesome, and
up to self-satisfied elevations, glowing like a love
that painteth purple felicities alluringly on earthly
heavens.
Passion for power: but who would call it passion,
when the height longeth to stoop for power!
Verily, nothing sick or diseased is there in such
longing and descending!
That the lonesome height may not for ever
remain lonesome and self-sufficing; that the
mountains may come to the valleys and the winds
of the heights to the plains :—
Oh, who could find the right prenomen and
honouring name for such longing! " Bestowing
virtue"—thus did Zarathustra once name the
unnamable.
And then it happened also,—and verily, it
happened for the first time! —that his word blessed.
## p. 232 (#328) ############################################
232
THUS SPAKE ZARATHUSTRA, III.
selfishness, the wholesome, healthy selfishness, that
springeth from the powerful soul :-
-From the powerful soul, to which the high
body appertaineth, the handsome, triumphing,
refreshing body, around which everything becometh
a mirror :
- The pliant, persuasive body, the dancer, whose
symbol and epitome is the self-enjoying soul. Of
such bodies and souls the self-enjoyment calleth
itself“ virtue. ”
With its words of good and bad doth such self-
enjoyment shelter itself as with sacred groves; with
the names of its happiness doth it banish from
itself everything contemptible.
Away from itself doth it banish everything
cowardly; it saith: “Bad—that is cowardly !
Contemptible seem to it the ever-solicitous, the
sighing, the complaining, and whoever picketh up
the most trifling advantage.
It despiseth also all bitter-sweet wisdom: for
verily, there is also wisdom that bloometh in the
dark, a night-shade wisdom, which ever sigheth:
“ All is vain! ”
Shy distrust is regarded by it as base, and every
one who wanteth oaths instead of looks and hands :
also all over-distrustful wisdom,—for such is the
mode of cowardly souls.
Baser still it regardeth the obsequious, doggish
one, who immediately lieth on his back, the sub-
missive one; and there is also wisdom that is
submissive, and doggish, and pious, and obsequious.
Hateful to it altogether, and a loathing, is he
who will never defend himself, he who swalloweth
## p. 233 (#329) ############################################
LIV. —THE THREE EVIL THINGS. 233
down poisonous spittle and bad looks, the all-too-
patient one, the all-endurer, the all-satisfied one:
for that is the mode of slaves.
Whether they be servile before Gods and divine
spurnings, or before men and stupid human
opinions: at all kinds of slaves doth it spit, this
blessed selfishness!
Bad: thus doth it call all that is spirit-broken,
and sordidly-servile—constrained, blinking eyes,
depressed hearts, and the false submissive style,
which kisseth with broad cowardly lips.
And spurious wisdom: so doth it call all the
wit that slaves, and hoary-headed and weary ones
affect; and especially all the cunning, spurious-
witted, curious-witted foolishness of priests!
The spurious wise, however, all the priests, the
world-weary, and those whose souls are of feminine
and servile nature—oh, how hath their game all
along abused selfishness!
And precisely that was to be virtue and was to be
called virtue—to abuse selfishness! And " selfless"
—so did they wish themselves with good reason, all
those world-weary cowards and cross-spiders!
But to all those cometh now the day, the change,
the sword of judgment, the great noontide: then
shall many things be revealed!
And he who proclaimeth the ego wholesome and
holy, and selfishness blessed, verily, he, the prog-
nosticator, speaketh also what he knoweth: "Be-
hold, it cometh, it is nigh, the great noontide! "
Thus spake Zarathustra,
## p. 233 (#330) ############################################
232 THUS SPAKE ZARATHUSTRA, III.
selfishness, the wholesome, healthy selfishness, ths
springeth from the powerful soul:—
—From the powerful soul, to which the hig-J
body appertaineth, the handsome, triumphing
refreshing body, around which everything becometfc
a mirror:
—The pliant, persuasive body, the dancer, whose
symbol and epitome is the self-enjoying soul. Of
such bodies and souls the self-enjoyment calleth
itself " virtue. "
With its words of good and bad doth such self-
enjoyment shelter itself as with sacred groves; with
the names of its happiness doth it banish from
itself everything contemptible.
Away from itself doth it banish everything
cowardly; it saith: "Bad—that is cowardly!
Contemptible seem to it the ever-solicitous, the
sighing, the complaining, and whoever picketh up
the most trifling advantage.
It despiseth also all bitter-sweet wisdom: for
verily, there is also wisdom that bloometh in the
dark, a night-shade wisdom, which ever sigheth:
"All is vain! "
Shy distrust is regarded by it as base, and every
one who wanteth oaths instead of looks and hands:
also all over-distrustful wisdom,—for such is the
mode of cowardly souls.
Baser still it regardeth the obsequious, doggish
one, who immediately lieth on his back, the sub-
missive one; and there is also wisdom that is
submissive, and doggish, and pious, and obsequious.
Hateful to it altogether, and a loathing, is he
who will never defend himself, he who swalloweth
## p. 233 (#331) ############################################
LIV. —THE THREE EVIL THINGS. 233
down poisonous spittle and bad looks, the all-too-
patient one, the all-endurer, the all-satisfied one:
for that is the mode of slaves.
Whether they be servile before Gods and divine
spurnings, or before men and stupid human
opinions: at all kinds of slaves doth it spit, this
blessed selfishness!
Bad: thus doth it call all that is spirit-broken,
and sordidly-servile—constrained, blinking eyes,
depressed hearts, and the false submissive style,
which kisseth with broad cowardly lips.
And spurious wisdom: so doth it call all the
wit that slaves, and hoary-headed and weary ones
affect; and especially all the cunning, spurious-
witted, curious-witted foolishness of priests!
The spurious wise, however, all the priests, the
world-weary, and those whose souls are of feminine
and servile nature—oh, how hath their game all
along abused selfishness!
And precisely that was to be virtue and was to be
called virtue—to abuse selfishness! And "selfless"
—so did they wish themselves with good reason, all
those world-weary cowards and cross-spiders!
But to all those cometh now the day, the change,
the sword of judgment, the great noontide: then
shall many things be revealed!
And he who proclaimeth the ego wholesome and
holy, and selfishness blessed, verily, he, the prog-
nosticator, speaketh also what he knoweth: '. 'Be-
hold, it cometh, it is nigh, the great noontide! "
Thus spake Zarathustra,
## p. 234 (#332) ############################################
234 THUS SPAKE ZARATHUSTRA, III.
LV. —THE SPIRIT OF GRAVITY.
i.
My mouthpiece—is of the people: too coarsely
and cordially do I talk for Angora rabbits. And
still stranger soundeth my word unto all ink-fish
and pen-foxes.
My hand—is a fool's hand: woe unto all tables
and walls, and whatever hath room for fool's
sketching, fool's scrawling!
My foot—is a horse-foot; therewith do I trample
and trot over stick and stone, in the fields up and
down, and am bedevilled with delight in all fast
racing.
My stomach—is surely an eagle's stomach? For
it preferreth lamb's flesh. Certainly it is a bird's
stomach.
Nourished with innocent things, and with few,
ready and impatient to fly, to fly away—that is
now my nature: why should there not be something
of bird-nature therein!
And especially that I am hostile to the spirit
of gravity, that is bird-nature: and verily, deadly
hostile, supremely hostile, originally hostile! Oh,
whither hath my hostility not flown and misflown!
Thereof could I sing a song and will sing
it: though I be alone in an empty house, and must
sing it to mine own ears.
Other singers are there, to be sure, to whom only
the full house maketh the voice soft, the hand
eloquent, the eye expressive, the heart wakeful:—
those do I not resemble. —
## p. 235 (#333) ############################################
LV. —THE SPIRIT OF GRAVITY. 235
2.
He who one day teacheth men to fly will have
shifted all landmarks; to him will all landmarks
themselves fly into the air; the earth will he
christen anew—as " the light body. "
The ostrich runneth faster than the fastest horse,
but it also thrusteth its head heavily into the heavy
earth: thus is it with the man who cannot yet fly.
Heavy unto him are earth and life, and so
willeth the spirit of gravity! But he who wisheth to
become light, and be a bird, must love himself:—
thus do / teach.
Not, to be sure, with the love of the sick and
infected, for with them stinketh even self-love!
One must learn to love oneself—thus do I teach
—with a wholesome and healthy love: that one
may endure to be with oneself, and not go roving
about.
Such roving about christeneth itself "brotherly
love "; with these words hath there hitherto been
the best lying and dissembling, and especially by
those who have been burdensome to every one.
And verily, it is no commandment for to-day and
to-morrow to learn to love oneself. Rather is it of
all arts the finest, subtlest, last and patientest.
For to its possessor is all possession well con-
cealed, and of all treasure-pits one's own is last
excavated—so causeth the spirit of gravity.
Almost in the cradle are we apportioned with
heavy words and worths: "good" and "evil "—so
calleth itself this dowry. For the sake of it we are
forgiven for living.
## p. 236 (#334) ############################################
236 THUS SPAKE ZARATHUSTRA, III.
And therefore suffereth one little children to
come unto one, to forbid them betimes to love
themselves—so causeth the spirit of gravity.
And we—we bear loyally what is apportioned
unto us, on hard shoulders, over rugged mountains!
And when we sweat, then do people say to us:
"Yea, life is hard to bear! "
But man himself only is hard to bear! The
reason thereof is that he carrieth too many
extraneous things on his shoulders. Like the
camel kneeleth he down, and letteth himself be well
laden.
Especially the strong load-bearing man in whom
reverence resideth. Too many extraneous heavy
words and worths loadeth he upon himself—then
seemeth life to him a desert!
And verily! Many a thing also that is our own
is hard to bear! And many internal things in man
are like the oyster—repulsive and slippery and
hard to grasp ;—
So that an elegant shell, with elegant adornment,
must plead for them. But this art also must one
learn: to have a shell, and a fine appearance, and
sagacious blindness!
Again, it deceiveth about many things in man,
that many a shell is poor and pitiable, and too much
of a shell. Much concealed goodness and power
is never dreamt of; the choicest dainties find no
tasters!
Women know that, the choicest of them: a little
fatter, a little leaner—oh, how much fate is in so
little!
Man is difficult to discover, and unto himself most
## p. 237 (#335) ############################################
LV. —THE SPIRIT OF GRAVITY.
237
difficult of all ; often lieth the spirit concerning the
soul. So causeth the spirit of gravity.
He, however, hath discovered himself who saith :
This is my good and evil : therewith hath he
silenced the mole and the dwarf, who say: “Good
for all, evil for all. ”
Verily, neither do I like those who call every-
thing good, and this world the best of all. Those
do I call the all-satisfied.
All-satisfiedness, which knoweth how to taste
everything,—that is not the best taste! I honour
the refractory, fastidious tongues and stomachs,
which have learned to say “I” and “Yea" and
“Nay. ”
To chew and digest everything, however-that
is the genuine swine-nature! Ever to say YE-A-
that hath only the ass learnt, and those like it!
Deep yellow and hot red-so wanteth my taste-
it mixeth blood with all colours. He, however, who
whitewasheth his house, betrayeth unto me a white-
washed soul.
With mummies, some fall in love ; others with
phantoms: both alike hostile to all flesh and
blood—oh, how repugnant are both to my taste !
For I love blood.
And there will I not reside and abide where
every one spitteth and speweth : that is now my
taste, ~rather would I live amongst thieves and
perjurers. Nobody carrieth gold in his mouth.
Still more repugnant unto me, however, are all
lickspittles; and the most repugnant animal of man
that I found, did I christen "parasite": it would
not love, and would yet live by love.
## p. 238 (#336) ############################################
238
THUS SPAKE ZARATHUSTRA, III.
Unhappy do I call all those who have only one
choice: either to become evil beasts, or evil beast-
tamers. Amongst such would I not build my
tabernacle.
Unhappy do I also call those who have ever to
wait,they are repugnant to my taste—all the
toll-gatherers and traders, and kings, and other
landkeepers and shopkeepers.
Verily, I learned waiting also, and thoroughly
so,—but only waiting for myself. And above all
did I learn standing and walking and running and
leaping and climbing and dancing
This however is my teaching: he who wisheth
one day to fly, must first learn standing and walk-
ing and running and climbing and dancing :-one
doth not fly into flying !
With rope-ladders learned I to reach many a
window, with nimble legs did I climb high masts :
to sit on high masts of perception seemed to me no
small bliss ;
-To flicker like small flames on high masts: a
small light, certainly, but a great comfort to cast-
away sailors and shipwrecked ones!
By divers ways and wendings did I arrive at my
truth; not by one ladder did I mount to the height
where mine eye roveth into my remoteness.
And unwillingly only did I ask my way—that
was always counter to my taste! Rather did I
question and test the ways themselves.
A testing and a questioning hath been all my
travelling :-and verily, one must also learn to
answer such questioning! That, however,-is my
taste :
## p. 239 (#337) ############################################
LV. —THE SPIRIT OF GRAVITY.
239
-Neither a good nor a bad taste, but my taste, of
which I have no longer either shame or secrecy.
“ This-is now my way, where is yours? ” Thus
did I answer those who asked me “the way. ” For
the way—it doth not exist !
Thus spake Zarathustra.
LVI. -OLD AND NEW TABLES.
Here do I sit and wait, old broken tables around
me and also new half-written tables. When cometh
mine hour ?
– The hour of my descent, of my down-going :
for once more will I go unto men.
For that hour do I now wait: for first must the
signs come unto me that it is mine hour-namely,
the laughing lion with the flock of doves.
Meanwhile do I talk to myself as one who hath
time. No one telleth me anything new, so I tell
myself mine own story.
When I came unto men, then found I them
resting on an old infatuation : all of them thought
they had long known what was good and bad
for men. .
An old wearisome business seemed to them all
discourse about virtue; and he who wished to sleep
well spake of “good” and “bad ”ere retiring to rest.
This somnolence did I disturb when I taught
## p. 239 (#338) ############################################
238 THUS SPAKE ZARATHUSTRA, III.
Unhappy do I call all those who have only one
choice: either to become evil beasts, or evil beast-
tamers. Amongst such would I not build my
tabernacle.
Unhappy do I also call those who have ever to
wait,—they are repugnant to my taste—all the
toll-gatherers and traders, and kings, and other
landkeepers and shopkeepers.
Verily, I learned waiting also, and thoroughly
so,—but only waiting for myself. And above all
did I learn standing and walking and running and
leaping and climbing and dancing.
This however is my teaching: he who wisheth
one day to fly, must first learn standing and walk-
ing and running and climbing and dancing:—one
doth not fly into flying!
With rope-ladders learned I to reach many a
window, with nimble legs did I climb high masts:
to sit on high masts of perception seemed to me no
small bliss ;—
—To flicker like small flames on high masts: a
small light, certainly, but a great comfort to cast-
away sailors and shipwrecked ones!
By divers ways and wendings did I arrive at my
truth; not by one ladder did I mount to the height
where mine eye roveth into my remoteness.
And unwillingly only did I ask my way—that
was always counter to my taste! Rather did I
question and test the ways themselves.
A testing and a questioning hath been all my
travelling:—and verily, one must also learn to
answer such questioning! That, however,—is my
taste:
r
1
## p. 239 (#339) ############################################
LV. —THE SPIRIT OF GRAVITY. 239
—Neither a good nor a bad taste, but my taste, of
which I have no longer either shame or secrecy.
"This—is now my way,—where is yours? " Thus
did I answer those who asked me " the way. " For
the way—it doth not exist!
Thus spake Zarathustra.
LVI. —OLD AND NEW TABLES.
Here do I sit and wait, old broken tables around
me and also new half-written tables. When cometh
mine hour?
—The hour of my descent, of my down-going:
for once more will I go unto men.
For that hour do I now wait: for first must the
signs come unto me that it is mine hour—namely,
the laughing lion with the flock of doves.
Meanwhile do I talk to myself as one who hath
time. No one telleth me anything new, so I tell
myself mine own story.
When I came unto men, then found I them
resting on an old infatuation: all of them thought
they had long known what was good and bad
for men.
An old wearisome business seemed to them all
discourse about virtue; and he who wished to sleep
well spake of " good " and " bad " ere retiring to rest.
This somnolence did I disturb when I taught
## p. 239 (#340) ############################################
238 THUS SPAKE ZARATHUSTRA, III.
Unhappy do I call all those who have only one
choice: either to become evil beasts, or evil beast-
tamers. Amongst such would I not build my
tabernacle.
Unhappy do I also call those who have ever to
wait,—they are repugnant to my taste—all the
toll-gatherers and traders, and kings, and other
landkeepers and shopkeepers.
Verily, I learned waiting also, and thoroughly
so,—but only waiting for myself. And above all
did I learn standing and walking and running and
leaping and climbing and dancing.
This however is my teaching: he who wisheth
one day to fly, must first learn standing and walk-
ing and running and climbing and dancing :—one
doth not fly into flying!
With rope-ladders learned I to reach many a
window, with nimble legs did I climb high masts:
to sit on high masts of perception seemed to me no
small bliss ;—
—To flicker like small flames on high masts: a
small light, certainly, but a great comfort to cast-
away sailors and shipwrecked ones!
By divers ways and wendings did I arrive at my
truth; not by one ladder did I mount to the height
where mine eye roveth into my remoteness.
And unwillingly only did I ask my way—that
was always counter to my taste! Rather did I
question and test the ways themselves.
A testing and a questioning hath been all my
travelling:—and verily, one must also learn to
answer such questioning! That, however,—is my
taste:
1
## p. 239 (#341) ############################################
LV. —THE SPIRIT OF GRAVITY. 239
—Neither a good nor a bad taste, but my taste, of
which I have no longer either shame or secrecy.
"This—is now my way,—where is yours? " Thus
did I answer those who asked me " the way. " For
the way—it doth not exist!
Thus spake Zarathustra.
LVL—OLD AND NEW TABLES.
Here do I sit and wait, old broken tables around
me and also new half-written tables. When cometh
mine hour?
—The hour of my descent, of my down-going:
for once more will I go unto men.
For that hour do I now wait: for first must the
signs come unto me that it is mine hour—namely,
the laughing lion with the flock of doves.
Meanwhile do I talk to myself as one who hath
time. No one telleth me anything new, so I tell
myself mine own story.
2.
When I came unto men, then found I them
resting on an old infatuation: all of them thought
they had long known what was good and bad
for men.
An old wearisome business seemed to them all
discourse about virtue; and he who wished to sleep
well spake of " good " and " bad " ere retiring to rest.
This somnolence did I disturb when I taught
## p. 239 (#342) ############################################
238 THUS SPAKE ZARATHUSTRA, III.
Unhappy do I call all those who have only one
choice: either to become evil beasts, or evil beast-
tamers. Amongst such would I not build my
tabernacle.
Unhappy do I also call those who have ever to
wait,—they are repugnant to my taste—all the
toll-gatherers and traders, and kings, and other
landkeepers and shopkeepers.
Verily, I learned waiting also, and thoroughly
so,—but only waiting for myself. And above all
did I learn standing and walking and running and
leaping and climbing and dancing.
This however is my teaching: he who wisheth
one day to fly, must first learn standing and walk-
ing and running and climbing and dancing:—one
doth not fly into flying!
With rope-ladders learned I to reach many a
window, with nimble legs did I climb high masts:
to sit on high masts of perception seemed to me no
small bliss ;—
—To flicker like small flames on high masts: a
small light, certainly, but a great comfort to cast-
away sailors and shipwrecked ones!
By divers ways and wendings did I arrive at my
truth; not by one ladder did I mount to the height
where mine eye roveth into my remoteness.
And unwillingly only did I ask my way—that
was always counter to my taste! Rather did I
question and test the ways themselves.
A testing and a questioning hath been all my
travelling:—and verily, one must also learn to
answer such questioning! That, however,—is my
taste:
r
1
## p. 239 (#343) ############################################
LV. —THE SPIRIT OF GRAVITY. 239
—Neither a good nor a bad taste, but my taste, of
which I have no longer either shame or secrecy.
"This—is now my way,—where is yours? " Thus
did I answer those who asked me " the way. " For
the way—it doth not exist!
Thus spake Zarathustra.
LVL—OLD AND NEW TABLES.
Here do I sit and wait, old broken tables around
me and also new half-written tables. When cometh
mine hour?
—The hour of my descent, of my down-going:
for once more will I go unto men.
For that hour do I now wait: for first must the
signs come unto me that it is mine hour—namely,
the laughing lion with the flock of doves.
Meanwhile do I talk to myself as one who hath
time. No one telleth me anything new, so I tell
myself mine own story.
2.
When I came unto men, then found I them
resting on an old infatuation: all of them thought
they had long known what was good and bad
for men.
An old wearisome business seemed to them all
discourse about virtue; and he who wished to sleep
well spake of " good " and " bad " ere retiring to rest.
This somnolence did I disturb when I taught
## p. 239 (#344) ############################################
238 THUS SPAKE ZARATHUSTRA, III.
Unhappy do I call all those who have only one
choice: either to become evil beasts, or evil beast-
tamers. Amongst such would I not build my
tabernacle.
Unhappy do I also call those who have ever to
wait,—they are repugnant to my taste—all the
toll-gatherers and traders, and kings, and other
landkeepers and shopkeepers.
Verily, I learned waiting also, and thoroughly
so,—but only waiting for myself. And above all
did I learn standing and walking and running and
leaping and climbing and dancing.
This however is my teaching: he who wisheth
one day to fly, must first learn standing and walk-
ing and running and climbing and dancing:—one
doth not fly into flying!
With rope-ladders learned I to reach many a
window, with nimble legs did I climb high masts:
to sit on high masts of perception seemed to me no
small bliss ;—
—To flicker like small flames on high masts: a
small light, certainly, but a great comfort to cast-
away sailors and shipwrecked ones!
By divers ways and wendings did I arrive at my
truth; not by one ladder did I mount to the height
where mine eye roveth into my remoteness.
And unwillingly only did I ask my way—that
was always counter to my taste! Rather did I
question and test the ways themselves.
A testing and a questioning hath been all my
travelling:—and verily, one must also learn to
answer such questioning! That, however,—is my
taste:
""
1
## p. 239 (#345) ############################################
LV. —THE SPIRIT OF GRAVITY. 239
—Neither a good nor a bad taste, but my taste, of
which I have no longer either shame or secrecy.
"This—is now my way,—where is yours? " Thus
did I answer those who asked me " the way. " For
the way—it doth not exist!
Thus spake Zarathustra.
LVL—OLD AND NEW TABLES.
Here do I sit and wait, old broken tables around
me and also new half-written tables. When cometh
mine hour?
—The hour of my descent, of my down-going:
for once more will I go unto men.
For that hour do I now wait: for first must the
signs come unto me that it is mine hour—namely,
the laughing lion with the flock of doves.
Meanwhile do I talk to myself as one who hath
time. No one telleth me anything new, so I tell
myself mine own story.
2.
When I came unto men, then found I them
resting on an old infatuation: all of them thought
they had long known what was good and bad
for men.
An old wearisome business seemed to them all
discourse about virtue; and he who wished to sleep
well spake of " good " and " bad " ere retiring to rest.
