No More Learning

Away with thee, thou blissful hour! Rather
harbour there—with my children! Hasten! and
bless them before eventide with my happiness!


## p. 198 (#286) ############################################

198
THUS SPAKE ZARATHUSTRA, III.
There, already approacheth eventide : the sun
sinketh. Away—my happiness !
Thus spake Zarathustra. And he waited for his
misfortune the whole night; but he waited in vain.
The night remained clear and calm, and happiness
itself came nigher and nigher unto him. Towards
morning, however, Zarathustra laughed to his
heart, and said mockingly : “Happiness runneth
after me. That is because I do not run after
women. Happiness, however, is a woman. ”
XLVIII. -BEFORE SUNRISE.
O heaven above me, thou pure, thou deep
heaven! Thou abyss of light! Gazing on thee, I
tremble with divine desires.
Up to thy height to toss myself—that is my
depth! In thy purity to hide myself—that is mine
innocence!
The God veileth his beauty: thus hidest thou
thy stars. Thou speakest not: thus proclaimest
thou thy wisdom unto me.
Mute o'er the raging sea hast thou risen for me
to-day; thy love and thy modesty make a revela-
tion unto my raging soul.
In that thou camest unto me beautiful, veiled in
thy beauty, in that thou spakest unto me mutely,
obvious in thy wisdom:
Oh, how could I fail to divine all the modesty of
thy soul! Before the sun didst thou come unto
me—the lonesomest one.


## p. 199 (#287) ############################################

XLVIII. —BEFORE SUNRISE. 199
We have been friends from the beginning: to us
are grief, gruesomeness, and ground common; even
the sun is common to us.
We do not speak to each other, because we
know too much—: we keep silent to each other, we
smile our knowledge to each other.
Art thou not the light of my fire? Hast thou
not the sister-soul of mine insight?
Together did we learn everything; together did
we learn to ascend beyond ourselves to ourselves,
and to smile uncloudedly :—
—Uncloudedly to smile down out of luminous
eyes and out of miles of distance, when under us
constraint and purpose and guilt steam like rain.
And wandered I alone, for what did my soul
hunger by night and in labyrinthine paths? And
climbed I mountains, whom did I ever seek, if not
thee, upon mountains?
And all my wandering and mountain-climbing:
a necessity was it merely, and a makeshift of the
unhandy one:—\o fly only, wanteth my entire will,
to fly into thee!
And what have I hated more than passing clouds,
and whatever tainteth thee? And mine own hatred
have I even hated, because it tainted thee!
The passing clouds I detest—those stealthy cats
of prey: they take from thee and me what is
common to us—the vast unbounded Yea- and
Amen-saying.
These mediators and mixers we detest—the
passing clouds: those half-and-half ones, that have
neither learned to bless nor to curse from the
heart.


## p. 200 (#288) ############################################

200
THUS SPAKE ZARATHUSTRA, III.
Rather will I sit in a tub under a closed heaven,
rather will I sit in the abyss without heaven, than
see thee, thou luminous heaven, tainted with passing
clouds !
And oft have I longed to pin them fast with the
jagged gold-wires of lightning, that I might, like
the thunder, beat the drum upon their kettle-
bellies :-
-An angry drummer, because they rob me of
thy Yea and Amen ! —thou heaven above me, thou
pure, thou luminous heaven! Thou abyss of
light ! —because they rob thee of my Yea and
Amen.
For rather will I have noise and thunders and
tempest-blasts, than this discreet, doubting cat-
repose; and also amongst men do I hate most of
all the soft-treaders, and half-and-half ones, and
the doubting, hesitating, passing clouds.
And "he who cannot bless shall learn to curse! ”
-this clear teaching dropt unto me from the clear
heaven; this star standeth in my heaven even in
dark nights.
I, however, am a blesser and a Yea-sayer, if thou
be but around me, thou pure, thou luminous
heaven! Thou abyss of light ! -into all abysses do
I then carry my beneficent Yea-saying.
A blesser have I become and a Yea-sayer : and
therefore strove I long and was a striver, that I
might one day get my hands free for blessing.
This, however, is my blessing: to stand above
everything as its own heaven, its round roof, its
azure bell and eternal security: and blessed is he
who thus blesseth !


## p. 201 (#289) ############################################

XLVIII. —BEFORE SUNRISE. 201
For all things are baptized at the font of eternity,
and beyond good and evil ; good and evil them-
selves, however, are but fugitive shadows and damp
afflictions and passing clouds.
Verily, it is a blessing and not a blasphemy when
I teach that "above all things there standeth the
heaven of chance, the heaven of innocence, the
heaven of hazard, the heaven of wantonness. "
"Of Hazard "—that is the oldest nobility in the
world; that gave I back to all things; I emanci-
pated them from bondage under purpose.
This freedom and celestial serenity did I put like
an azure bell above all things, when I taught that
over them and through them, no "eternal will"—
willeth.
This wantonness and folly did I put in place of
that will, when I taught that " In everything there
is one thing impossible—rationality! "
A little reason, to be sure, a germ of wisdom
scattered from star to star—this leaven is mixed in
all things: for the sake of folly, wisdom is mixed
in all things!
A little wisdom is indeed possible; but this
blessed security have I found in all things, that
they prefer—to dance on the feet of chance.
O heaven above me! thou pure, thou lofty
heaven! This is now thy purity unto me, that
there is no eternal reason-spider and reason-
cobweb :—
—That thou art to me a dancing-floor for divine
chances, that thou art to me a table of the Gods,
for divine dice and dice-players ! —
But thou blushest? Have I spoken unspeakable



## p. 202 (#290) ############################################

202
THUS SPAKE ZARATHUSTRA, III.
things? Have I abused, when I meant to bless
thee?
Or is it the shame of being two of us that
maketh thee blush ! —Dost thou bid me go and be
silent, because now-day cometh ?
The world is deep—; and deeper than e'er the
day could read. Not everything may be uttered in
presence of day. But day cometh : so let us part !
O heaven above me, thou modest one! thou
glowing one! O thou, my happiness before sun-
rise! The day cometh : so let us part ! -
Thus spake Zarathustra.
XLIX. —THE BEDWARFING VIRTUE.
1.
When Zarathustra was again on the continent,
he did not go straightway to his mountains and his
cave, but made many wanderings and questionings,
and ascertained this and that; so that he said of
himself jestingly: “Lo, a river that floweth back
unto its source in many windings ! ” For he wanted
to learn what had taken place among men during
the interval : whether they had become greater or
smaller. And once, when he saw a row of new
houses, he marvelled, and said.
“What do these houses mean? Verily, no great
soul put them up as its simile !
Did perhaps a silly child take them out of its
toy-box? Would that another child put them
again into the box!
And these rooms and chambers—can men go out


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XLIX. —THE BEDWARFING VIRTUE. 203
and in there? They seem to be made for silk dolls;
or for dainty-eaters, who perhaps let others eat
with them. "
And Zarathustra stood still and meditated. At
last he said sorrowfully: "There hath everything
become smaller!
Everywhere do I see lower doorways: he who
is of my type can still go therethrough, but—he
must stoop!
Oh, when shall I arrive again at my home, where
I shall no longer have to stoop—shall no longer
have to stoop before the small ones I"—And Zara-
thustra sighed, and gazed into the distance. —
The same day, however, he gave his discourse
on the bedwarfing virtue.
2.
I pass through this people and keep mine eyes
open: they do not forgive me for not envying
their virtues.
They bite at me, because I say unto them that
for small people, small virtues are necessary—and
because it is hard for me to understand that small
people are necessary!
Here am I still like a cock in a strange farm-yard,
at which even the hens peck: but on that account
I am not unfriendly to the hens.
I am courteous towards them, as towards all small
annoyances; to be prickly towards what is small,
seemeth to me wisdom for hedgehogs.
They all speak of me when they sit around their
fire in the evening—they speak of me, but no one
thinketh—of me!


## p. 204 (#292) ############################################

204 THUS SPAKE ZARATHUSTRA, III.
This is the new stillness which I have experi-
enced: their noise around me spreadeth a mantle
over my thoughts.
They shout to one another: "What is this gloomy
cloud about to do to us? Let us see that it doth
not bring a plague upon us! "
And recently did a woman seize upon her child
that was coming unto me: "Take the children
away," cried she," such eyes scorch children's souls. "
They cough when I speak: they think coughing
an objection to strong winds—they divine nothing
of the boisterousness of my happiness!
"We have not yet time for Zarathustra"—so
they object; but what matter about a time that
"hath no time" for Zarathustra?
And if they should altogether praise me, how
could I go to sleep on their praise? A girdle of
spines is their praise unto me: it scratcheth me
even when I take it off.
And this also did I learn among them: the
praiser doeth as if he gave back; in truth, however,
he wanteth more to be given him!
Ask my foot if their lauding and luring strains
please it! Verily, to such measure and ticktack,
it liketh neither to dance nor to stand still.
To small virtues would they fain lure and laud
me; to the ticktack of small happiness would they
fain persuade my foot.
I pass through this people and keep mine eyes
open: they have become smaller, and ever become
smaller :—the reason thereof is their doctrine of happi-
ness and virtue.
For they are moderate also in virtue,—because


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XLIX. —THE BEDWARFING VIRTUE. 205
they want comfort. With comfort, however, mode-
rate virtue only is compatible.
To be sure, they also learn in their way to stride
and stride forward: that, I call their hobbling. —
Thereby do they become a hindrance to all who
are in haste.
And many of them go forward, and look back-
wards thereby, with stiffened necks: those do I like
to run up against.
Foot and eye shall not lie, nor give the lie to
each other. But there is much lying among small
people.
Some of them will, but most of them are willed.
Some of them are genuine, but most of them are
bad actors.
There are actors without knowing it amongst
them, and actors without intending it—, the genuine
ones are always rare, especially the genuine actors.
Of man there is little here: therefore do their
women masculinise themselves. For only he who
is man enough, will—save the woman in woman.
And this hypocrisy found I worst amongst them,
that even those who command feign the virtues of
those who serve.
"I serve, thou servest, we serve "—so chanteth
here even the hypocrisy of the rulers—and alas!
if the first lord be only the first servant!
Ah, even upon their hypocrisy did mine eyes'
curiosity alight; and well did I divine all their fly-
happiness, and their buzzing around sunny window-
panes.
So much kindness, so much weakness do I see.
So much justice and pity, so much weakness.


## p. 206 (#294) ############################################

206 THUS SPAKE ZARATHUSTRA, III.
Round, fair, and considerate are they to one
another, as grains of sand are round, fair, and
considerate to grains of sand.
Modestly to embrace' a small happiness—that
do they call "submission"! and at the same time
they peer modestly after a new small happiness.
In their hearts they want simply one thing most
of all: that no one hurt them. Thus do they
anticipate every one's wishes and do well unto
every one.
That, however, is cowardice, though it be called
"virtue. "—
And when they chance to speak harshly, those
small people, then do / hear therein only their
hoarseness—every draught of air maketh them
hoarse.
Shrewd indeed are they, their virtues have shrewd
fingers. But they lack fists: their fingers do not
know how to creep behind fists.
Virtue for them is what maketh modest and
tame: therewith have they made the wolf a dog,
and man himself man's best domestic animal.
"We set our chair in the midst"—so saith their
smirking unto me—"and as far from dying
gladiators as from satisfied swine. "
That, however, is—mediocrity, though it be called
moderation. —
3-
I pass through this people and let fall many
words: but they know neither how to take nor
how to retain them.
They wonder why I came not to revile venery


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XLIX. —THE BEDWARFING VIRTUE.
207
and vice; and verily, I came not to warn against
pickpockets either!
They wonder why I am not ready to abet and
whet their wisdom : as if they had not yet enough
of wiseacres, whose voices grate on mine ear like
slate-pencils !
And when I call out: “Curse all the cowardly
devils in you, that would fain whimper and fold the
hands and adore "—then do they shout: “Zara-
thustra is godless. "
And especially do their teachers of submission
shout this ;—but precisely in their ears do I love to
cry: “Yea! I am Zarathustra, the godless ! ”
Those teachers of submission! Wherever there
is aught puny, or sickly, or scabby, there do they
creep like lice; and only my disgust preventeth me
from cracking them.
Well! This is my sermon for their ears: I am
Zarathustra the godless, who saith: “Who is more
godless than I, that I may enjoy his teaching? "
I am Zarathustra the godless : where do I find
mine equal ? And all those are mine equals who
give unto themselves their Will, and divest them-
selves of all submission.
I am Zarathustra the godless! I cook every
chance in my pot. And only when it hath been
quite cooked do I welcome it as my food.
And verily, many a chance came imperiously unto
me: but still more imperiously did my Will speak
unto it,—then did it lie imploringly upon its knees-
- Imploring that it might find home and heart
with me, and saying flatteringly: "See, O Zara-
thustra, how friend only cometh unto friend ! "-


## p. 208 (#296) ############################################

208 THUS SPAKE ZARATHUSTRA, III.
But why talk I, when no one hath mine ears!
And so will I shout it out unto all the winds:
Ye ever become smaller, ye small people! Ye
crumble away, ye comfortable ones! Ye will yet
perish—
—By your many small virtues, by your many
small omissions, and by your many small sub-
missions!
Too tender, too yielding: so is your soil! But
for a tree to become great, it seeketh to twine hard
roots around hard rocks!
Also what ye omit weaveth at the web of all the
human future; even your naught is a cobweb, and
a spider that liveth on the blood of the future.
And when ye take, then is it like stealing, ye
small virtuous ones; but even among knaves
honour saith that "one shall only steal when one
cannot rob. "
"It giveth itself"—that is also a doctrine of sub-
mission. But I say unto you, ye comfortable ones>
that it taketh to itself, and will ever take more and
more from you!
Ah, that ye would renounce all naif-willing, and
would decide for idleness as ye decide for action!
Ah, that ye understood my word: "Do ever
what ye will—but first be such as can will.
Love ever your neighbour as yourselves—but
first be such as love themselves—
—Such as love with great love, such as love
with great contempt! " Thus speaketh Zarathustra
the godless. —
But why talk I, when no one hath mine ears!
It is still an hour too early for me here.


## p. 209 (#297) ############################################

XLIX. -THE BEDWARFING VIRTUE.
209
Mine own forerunner am I among this people,
mine own cockcrow in dark lanes.
But their hour cometh! And there cometh also
mine! Hourly do they become smaller, poorer,
unfruitfuller,-poor herbs! poor earth !
And soon shall they stand before me like dry
grass and prairie, and verily, weary of themselves-
and panting for fire, more than for water !
O blessed hour of the lightning! O mystery
before noontide ! -Running fires will I one day
make of them, and heralds with flaming tongues :-
-Herald shall they one day with flaming tongues :
It cometh, it is nigh, the great noontide !
Thus spake Zarathustra.
L. -ON THE OLIVE-MOUNT.
Winter, a bad guest, sitteth with me at home;
blue are my hands with his friendly hand-shaking.
I honour him, that bad guest, but gladly leave
him alone. Gladly do I run away from him; and
when one runneth well, then one escapeth him !
With warm feet and warm thoughts do I run
where the wind is calm--to the sunny corner of
mine olive-mount.
There do I laugh at my stern guest, and am still
fond of him; because he cleareth my house of flies,
and quieteth many little noises.
For he suffereth it not if a gnat wanteth to buzz,
or even two of them; also the lanes maketh he
lonesome, so that the moonlight is afraid there at
night.


## p. 210 (#298) ############################################

210
THUS SPAKE ZARATHUSTRA, III.
A hard guest is he,—but I honour him, and do
not worship, like the tenderlings, the pot-bellied
fire-idol.
Better even a little teeth-chattering than idol-
adoration ! —so willeth my nature. And especi-
ally have I a grudge against all ardent, steaming,
steamy fire-idols.
Him whom I love, I love better in winter than in
summer; better do I now mock at mine enemies,
and more heartily, when winter sitteth in my
house.
Heartily, verily, even when I creep into bed—:
there, still laugheth and wantoneth my hidden hap-
piness; even my deceptive dream laugheth.
I, a-creeper? Never in my life did I creep before
the powerful; and if ever I lied, then did I lie out
of love. Therefore am I glad even in my winter-
bed.
A poor bed warmeth me more than a rich one,
for I am jealous of my poverty. And in winter she
is most faithful unto me.
With a wickedness do I begin every day: I mock
at the winter with a cold bath: on that account
grumbleth my stern house-mate.
Also do I like to tickle him with a wax-taper,
that he may finally let the heavens emerge from
ashy-grey twilight.
For especially wicked am I in the morning : at
the early hour when the pail rattleth at the well,
and horses neigh warmly in grey lanes :-
Impatiently do I then wait, that the clear sky
may finally dawn for me, the snow-bearded winter-
sky, the hoary one, the white-head,


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L. -ON THE OLIVE-MOUNT.
211
-The winter-sky, the silent winter-sky, which
often stifleth even its sun! .
Did I perhaps learn from it the long clear silence ?
Or did it learn it from me? Or hath each of us
devised it himself? .
Of all good things the origin is a thousandfold, -
all good roguish things spring into existence for
joy: how could they always do so—for once only!
A good roguish thing is also the long silence,
and to look, like the winter-sky, out of a clear,
round-eyed countenance :-
-Like it to stifle one's sun, and one's inflexible
solar will : verily, this art and this winter-roguish-
ness have I learnt well!
My best-loved wickedness and art is it, that my
silence hath learned not to betray itself by silence.
Clattering with diction and dice, I outwit the
solemn assistants : all those stern watchers, shall
my will and purpose elude.
That no one might see down into my depth and
into mine ultimate will—for that purpose did I
devise the long clear silence.
Many a shrewd one did I find : he veiled his
countenance and made his water muddy, that no one
might see therethrough and thereunder.
But precisely unto him came the shrewder dis-
trusters and nut-crackers : precisely from him did
they fish his best-concealed fish!
But the clear, the honest, the transparent—these
are for me the wisest silent ones: in them, so
profound is the depth that even the clearest water
doth not-betray it. -
Thou snow-bearded, silent, winter-sky, thou


## p. 212 (#300) ############################################

212 THUS SPAKE ZARATHUSTRA, III.
round - eyed whitehead above me! Oh, thou
heavenly simile of my soul and its wantonness!
And must I not conceal myself like one who
hath swallowed gold—lest my soul should be
ripped up?
Must I not wear stilts, that they may overlook
my long legs—all those enviers and injurers
around me?
Those dingy, fire-warmed, used-up, green-tinted,
ill-natured souls—how could their envy endure my
happiness!
Thus do I show them only the ice and winter of
my peaks—and not that my mountain windeth all
the solar girdles around it!
They hear only the whistling of my winter-
storms: and know not that I also travel over warm
seas, like longing, heavy, hot south-winds.
They commiserate also my accidents and
chances:—but my word saith: "Suffer the chance
to come unto me: innocent is it as a little
child! "
How could they endure my happiness, if I did
not put around it accidents, and winter-privations,
and bear-skin caps, and enmantling snowflakes!
—If I did not myself commiserate their pity, the
pity of those enviers and injurers!
—If I did not myself sigh before them, and
chatter with cold, and patiently let myself be
swathed in their pity!
This is the wise waggish-will and good-will of my
soul, that it concealeth not its winters and glacial
storms; it concealeth not its chilblains either.
To one man, lonesomeness is the flight of the


## p. 213 (#301) ############################################

L. —ON THE OLIVE-MOUNT. 213
sick one; to another, it is the flight from the
sick ones.
Let them hear me chattering and sighing with
winter-cold, all those poor squinting knaves around
me! With such sighing and chattering do I flee
from their heated rooms.
Let them sympathise with me and sigh with me
on account of my chilblains: "At the ice of
knowledge will he yet freeze to death ! "—so they
mourn.
Meanwhile do I run with warm feet hither and
thither on mine olive-mount: in the sunny corner
of mine olive-mount do I sing, and mock at all
Pity-
Thus sang Zarathustra.
LI. —ON PASSING-BY.
Thus slowly wandering through many peoples
and divers cities, did Zarathustra return by round-
about roads to his mountains and his cave. And
behold, thereby came he unawares also to the gate
of the great city. Here, however, a foaming fool,
with extended hands, sprang forward to him and
stood in his way. It was the same fool whom the
people called "the ape of Zarathustra :" for he had
learned from him something of the expression and
modulation of language, and perhaps liked also to
borrow from the store of his wisdom. And the
fool talked thus to Zarathustra:
O Zarathustra, here is the great city: here hast
thota nothing to seek and everything to lose.


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214
THUS SPAKE ZARATHUSTRA, III.
Why wouldst thou wade through this mire ?
Have pity upon thy foot! Spit rather on the gate
of the city, and—turn back!
Here is the hell for anchorites' thoughts: here
are great thoughts seethed alive and boiled small.
Here do all great sentiments decay: here may
only rattle-boned sensations rattle!
Smellest thou not already the shambles and
cookshops of the spirit ? Steameth not this city
with the fumes of slaughtered spirit ?
Seest thou not the souls hanging like limp dirty
rags ? —And they make newspapers also out
these rags !
Hearest thou not how spirit hath here becom
a verbal game? Loathsome verbal swill doth
vomit forth ! —And they make newspapers also o
of this verbal swill.
They hound one another, and know not whithe
They inflame one another, and know not wh
They tinkle with their pinchbeck, they jingle wi
their gold.
They are cold, and seek warmth from distill
waters: they are inflamed, and seek coolness frc
frozen spirits; they are all sick and sore throu
public opinion.
All lusts and vices are here at home; but h
there are also the virtuous; there is much appoi
able appointed virtue:-
Much appointable virtue with scribe-fing
and hardy sitting-flesh and waiting-flesh, bles
with small breast-stars, and padded, haunch
daughters.
There is here also much piety, and much fait


## p. 215 (#303) ############################################

LI. —ON PASSING-BY. 215
spittle-licking and spittle-backing, before the God
of Hosts.
"From on high," drippeth the star, and the
gracious spittle; for the high, longeth every star-
less bosom.
The moon hath its court, and the court hath its
moon-calves: unto all, however, that cometh from
the court do the mendicant people pray, and all
appointable mendicant virtues.
"I serve, thou servest, we serve"—so prayeth
all appointable virtue to the prince: that the
merited star may at last stick on the slender
breast!
But the moon still revolveth around all that is
earthly: so revolveth also the prince around what
is earthliest of all—that, however, is the gold of
the shopman.
The God of the Hosts of war is not the God of
the gold bar; the prince proposeth, but the shop-
man—disposeth!
By all that is luminous and strong and good in
thee, O Zarathustra! Spit on this city of shopmen
and return back!
Here floweth all blood putridly and tepidly and
frothily through all veins: spit on the great city,
which is the great slum where all the scum frotheth
together!
Spit on the city of compressed souls and slender
breasts, of pointed eyes and sticky fingers—
—On the city of the obtrusive, the brazen-faced,
the pen-demagogues and tongue-demagogues, the
overheated ambitious:—
Where everything maimed, ill-famed, lustful,


## p. 216 (#304) ############################################

216 THUS SPAKE ZARATHUSTRA, III.
untrustful, over-mellow, sickly-yellow and seditious,
festereth pernicious :-
-Spit on the great city and turn back !
Here, however, did Zarathustra interrupt the
foaming fool, and shut his mouth. -
Stop this at once! called out Zarathustra, long
have thy speech and thy species disgusted me!
Why didst thou live so long by the swamp,
that thou thyself hadst to become a frog and a
toad ?
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-


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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?