No More Learning

Floweth there not a tainted, frothy, swamp-blood
in thine own veins, when thou hast thus learned to
croak and revile ?
Why wentest thou not into the forest? Or why
didst thou not till the ground? Is the sea not full
of green islands ?
I despise thy contempt; and when thou warnedst
me—why didst thou not warn thyself?
Out of love alone shall my contempt and
my warning bird take wing; but not out of the
swamp! -
They call thee mine ape, thou foaming fool: but
I call thee my grunting-pig,—by thy grunting, thou
spoilest even my praise of folly.
What was it that first made thee grunt? Because
no one sufficiently flattered thee :—therefore didst
thou seat thyself beside this filth, that thou mightest
have cause for much grunting,-
- That thou mightest have cause for much
vengeance! For vengeance, thou vain fool, is all
thy foaming ; I have divined thee well!
But thy fools-word injureth me, even when thou


## p. 217 (#305) ############################################

LI. -ON PASSING-BY.
217
art right! And even if Zarathustra's word were a
hundred times justified, thou wouldst ever--do
wrong with my word !
Thus spake Zarathustra. Then did he look on
the great city and sighed, and was long silent. At
last he spake thus :
I loathe also this great city, and not only this
fool. Here and there—there is nothing to better,
nothing to worsen.
Woe to this great city ! -And I would that I
already saw the pillar of fire in which it will be
consumed !
For such pillars of fire must precede the great
noontide. But this hath its time and its own
fate. -
This precept, however, give I unto thee, in part-
ing, thou fool : Where one can no longer love,
there should one-pass by ! -
Thus spake Zarathustra, and passed by the fool
and the great city.
LII. —THE APOSTATES.
Ah, lieth everything already withered and grey
which but lately stood green and many-hued on this
meadow! And how much honey of hope did I
carry hence into my beehives !
Those young hearts have already all become old
-and not old even! only weary, ordinary, com-


## p. 218 (#306) ############################################

218 THUS SPAKE ZARATHUSTRA, III.
Portable:—they declare it: "We have again become
pious. "
Of late did I see them run forth at early morn
with valorous steps: but the feet of their knowledge
became weary, and now do they malign even their
morning valour!
Verily, many of them once lifted their legs like
the dancer; to them winked the laughter of my
wisdom :—then did they bethink themselves. Just
now have I seen them bent down—to creep to the
cross.
Around light and liberty did they once flutter
like gnats and young poets. A little older, a little
colder: and already are they mystifiers, and
mumblers and mollycoddles.
Did perhaps their hearts despond, because lone-
someness had swallowed me like a whale? Did
their ear perhaps hearken yearningly-long for me
in vain, and for my trumpet-notes and herald-
calls?
—Ah! Ever are there but few of those whose
hearts have persistent courage and exuberance; and
in such remaineth also the spirit patient. The rest,
however, are cowardly.
The rest: these are always the great majority,
the common-place, the superfluous, the far-too
many—those all are cowardly ! —
Him who is of my type, will also the experiences
of my type meet on the way: so that his first
companions must be corpses and buffoons.
His second companions, however—they will call
themselves his believers,—will be a living host, with
much love, much folly, much unbearded veneration.


## p. 219 (#307) ############################################

LII. —THE APOSTATES.
219
To those believers shall he who is of my type
among men not bind his heart; in those spring-
times and many-hued meadows shall he not be-
lieve, who knoweth the fickly faint-hearted human
species !
Could they do otherwise, then would they also
will otherwise. The half-and-half spoil every whole.
That leaves become withered,—what is there to
lament about that!
Let them go and fall away, O Zarathustra, and
do not lament! Better even to blow amongst them
with rustling winds -
-Blow amongst those leaves, O Zarathustra, that
everything withered may run away from thee the
faster!
“We have again become pious"-so do those
apostates confess; and some of them are still too
pusillanimous thus to confess.
Unto them I look into the eye,-before them
I say it unto their face and unto the blush on their
cheeks: Ye are those who again pray !
It is however a shame to pray! Not for all, but
for thee, and me, and whoever hath his conscience
in his head. For thee it is a shame to pray!
Thou knowest it well: the faint-hearted devil
in thee, which would fain fold its arms, and place
its hands in its bosom, and take it easier :—this
faint-hearted devil persuadeth thee that “there is
a God! ”
Thereby, however, dost thou belong to the light-


## p. 220 (#308) ############################################

220 THUS SPAKE ZARATHUSTRA, III.
dreading type, to whom light never permitteth
repose: now must thou daily thrust thy head
deeper into obscurity and vapour! #
And verily, thou choosest the hour well: for just
now do the nocturnal birds again fly abroad. The
hour hath come for all light-dreading people, the
vesper hour and leisure hour, when they do not—
"take leisure. "
I hear it and smell it: it hath come—their hour
for hunt and procession, not indeed for a wild hunt,
but for a tame, lame, snuffling, soft-treaders', soft-
prayers' hunt,—
—For a hunt after susceptible simpletons: all
mouse-traps for the heart have again been set!
And whenever I lift a curtain, a night-moth rusheth
out of it.
Did it perhaps squat there along with another
night-moth? For everywhere do I smell small
concealed communities; and wherever there are
closets there are new devotees therein, and the
atmosphere of devotees.
They sit for long evenings beside one another,
and say: "Let us again become like little children
and say, 'good God ! '"—ruined in mouths and
stomachs by the pious confectioners.
Or they look for long evenings at a crafty, lurk-
ing cross-spider, that preacheth prudence to the
spiders themselves, and teacheth that " under crosses
it is good for cobweb-spinning! "
Or they sit all day at swamps with angle-rods,
and on that account think themselves profound;
but whoever fisheth where there are no fish, I do
not even call him superficial!


## p. 221 (#309) ############################################

UL—THE APOSTATES. 221
Or they learn in godly-gay style to play the harp
with a hymn-poet, who would fain harp himself
into the heart of young girls :—for he hath tired of
old girls and their praises.
Or they learn to shudder with a learned semi-
madcap, who waiteth in darkened rooms for spirits
to come to him—and the spirit runneth away
entirely!
Or they listen to an old roving howl- and growl-
piper, who hath learnt from the sad winds the sad-
ness of sounds; now pipeth he as the wind, and
preacheth sadness in sad strains.
And some of them have even become night-
watchmen: they know now how to blow horns,
and go about at night and awaken old things
which have long fallen asleep.
Five words about old things did I hear yester-
night at the garden-wall: they came from such old,
sorrowful, arid night-watchmen.
"For a father he careth not sufficiently for his
children: human fathers do this better! "—
"He is too old! He now careth no more for his
children,"—answered the other night-watchman.
"Hath he then children? No one can prove it
unless he himself prove it! I have long wished
that he would for once prove it thoroughly. "
"Prove? As if he had ever proved anything!
Proving is difficult to him; he layeth great stress
on one's believing him. "
"Ay! Ay! Belief saveth him; belief in him.
That is the way with old people! So it is with
us also! "—
—Thus spake to each other the two old night-
J /


## p. 222 (#310) ############################################

222
THUS SPAKE ZARATHUSTRA, III.
watchmen and light-scarers, and tooted thereupon
sorrowfully on their horns : so did it happen yester-
night at the garden-wall.
To me, however, did the heart writhe with
laughter, and was like to break; it knew not where
to go, and sunk into the midriff.
Verily, it will be my death yet—to choke with
laughter when I see asses drunken, and hear night-
watchmen thus doubt about God.
Hath the time not long since passed for all such
doubts? Who may nowadays awaken such old
slumbering, light-shunning things!
With the old Deities hath it long since come to
an end :-and verily, a good joyful Deity-end
had they !
They did not “ begloom” themselves to death-
that do people fabricate! On the contrary, they-
laughed themselves to death once on a time!
That took place when the ungodliest utterance
came from a God himself—the utterance: “There
is but one God! Thou shalt have no other Gods
before me! "-
-An old grim-beard of a God, a jealous one,
forgot himself in such wise :-
And all the Gods then laughed, and shook upon
their thrones, and exclaimed: “Is it not just
divinity that there are Gods, but no God? "
He that hath an ear let him hear. -
Thus talked Zarathustra in the city he loved,
which is surnamed “The Pied Cow. " For from
here he had but two days to travel to reach once
more his cave and his animals; his soul, however,


## p. 223 (#311) ############################################

LIII. —THE RETURN HOME.
223
rejoiced unceasingly on account of the nighness of
his return home.
LIII. —THE RETURN HOME.
away
have Who
O lonesomeness! my home, lonesomeness! Too
long have I lived wildly in wild remoteness, to
return to thee without tears!
Now threaten me with the finger as mothers
threaten; now smile upon me as mothers smile ;
now say just: “Who was it that like a whirlwind
once rushed away from me —
-Who when departing called out : ‘Too long
have I sat with lonesomeness; there have I
unlearned silence! ' That hast thou learned now-
surely?
O Zarathustra, everything do I know; and that
thou wert more forsaken amongst the many, thou
unique one, than thou ever wert with me!
One thing is forsakenness, another matter is
lonesomeness : that hast thou now learned! And
that amongst men thou wilt ever be wild and
strange:
-Wild and strange even when they love thee:
for above all they want to be treated indulgently !
Here, however, art thou at home and house
with thyself; here canst thou utter everything, and
unbosom all motives ; nothing is here ashamed of
concealed, congealed feelings.
Here do all things come caressingly to thy talk
and flatter thee: for they want to ride upon thy
back. On every simile dost thou here ride to
every truth.


## p. 224 (#312) ############################################

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 (#313) ############################################

LIII. —THE RETURN HOME. 225
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
S


## p. 225 (#314) ############################################

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, 0 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 (#315) ############################################

LIII. —THE RETURN HOME. 225
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. 225 (#316) ############################################

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 (#317) ############################################

LIII. —THE RETURN HOME. 225
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. 225 (#318) ############################################

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 (#319) ############################################

LIII. —THE RETURN HOME. 225
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-
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.


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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


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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,


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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.


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