No More Learning

ones. Always doth he destroy rho hath to fe J to
creator. 3th
Creating ones were first of all peoples, and cclt of
in late times individuals; verily, the iadnxal our
himself is still the latest creation.
Peoples once hung over them tables of the raoH oil.
Love which would rule and love which would cx» e-"
created for themselves such tables. ' he
ye
ng
Older is the pleasure in the herd than th* fain
pleasure in the ego: and as bug M the JZ eth
conscience is for the herd, the had conscience^v
saith: ego. —«-"«* wuy
Verily, the crafty ego, the loveless one, fa,


## p. 69 (#144) #############################################

68 THUS SPAKE ZARATHUSTRA, T.
seeketh its advantage in the advantage of many—
it is not the origin of the herd, but its ruin.
Loving ones, was it always, and creating ones,
that created good and bad. Fire of love gloweth
in the names of all the virtues, and fire of wrath.
Many lands saw Zarathustra, and many peoples:
no greater power did Zarathustra find on earth
than the creations of the loving ones—" good" and
"bad " are they called.
Verily, a prodigy is this power of praising and
blaming. Tell me, ye brethren, who will master it
for me? Who will put a fetter upon the thousand
necks of this animal?
A thousand goals have there been hitherto, for
a thousand peoples have there been. Only the
fetter for the thousand necks is still lacking; there
is lacking the one goal. As yet humanity hath
not a goal.
But pray tell me, my brethren, if the goal of
humanity be still lacking, is there not also still
lacking—humanity itself? —
Thus spake Zarathustra.
XVI. —NEIGHBOUR-LOVE.
Ye crowd around your neighbour, and have fine
words for it. But I say unto you: your neighbour-
love is your bad love of yourselves.
Ye flee unto your neighbour from yourselves, and
would fain make a virtue thereof: but I fathom
your " unselfishness. "
The Thou is older than the // the Thou hath


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XVI. —NEIGHBOUR-LOVE. 69
been consecrated, but not yet the /. . so man
presseth nigh unto his neighbour.
Do I advise you to neighbour-love? Rather do
I advise you to neighbour-flight and to furthest love!
Higher than love to your neighbour is love to
the furthest and future ones; higher still than love
to men, is love to things and phantoms.
The phantom that runneth on before thee, my
brother, is fairer than thou; why dost thou not
give unto it thy flesh and thy bones? But thou
fearest, and runnest unto thy neighbour.
Ye cannot endure it with yourselves, and do not
love yourselves sufficiently: so ye seek to mislead
your neighbour into love, and would fain gild your-
selves with his error.
Would that ye could not endure it with any kind
of near ones, or their neighbours; then would ye
have to create your friend and his overflowing
heart out of yourselves.
Ye call in a witness when ye want to speak well
of yourselves; and when ye have misled him to
think well of you, ye also think well of yourselves.
Not only doth he lie, who speaketh contrary to
his knowledge, but more so, he who speaketh
contrary to his ignorance. And thus speak ye of
yourselves in your intercourse, and belie your
neighbour with yourselves.
Thus saith the fool: "Association with men spoil-
eth the character, especially when one hath none. "
The one goeth to his neighbour because he
seeketh himself, and the other because he would fain
lose himself. Your bad love to yourselves makcth
solitude a prison to you.


## p. 69 (#146) #############################################

-. i
il. -. -u . -c ,
7TNG
'"',', -o tto iaianun. mr
f . 4 .



## p. 69 (#147) #############################################

XVII. —THE WAY OF THE CREATING ONE. ? I
™ He who seeketh may easily get lost himself.
All isolation is wrong ": so say the herd. And
long didst thou belong to the herd.
The voice of the herd will still echo in thee.
And when thou sayest, " I have no longer a con-
science in common with you," then will it be a
plaint and a pain.
Lo, that pain itself did the same conscience
produce; and the last gleam of that conscience still
gloweth on thine affliction.
But thou wouldst go the way of thine affliction,
which is the way unto thyself? Then show me
thine authority and thy strength to do so!
Art thou a new strength and a new authority?
A first motion? A self-rolling wheel? Canst thou
also compel stars to revolve around thee?
Alas! there is so much lusting for loftiness!
There are so many convulsions of the ambitions!
Show me that thou art not a lusting and ambitious
one!
Alas! there are so many great thoughts that do
nothing more than the bellows: they inflate, and
make emptier than ever.
Free, dost thou call thyself? Thy ruling thought
would I hear of, and not that thou hast escaped
from a yoke.
Art thou one entitled to escape from a yoke?
Many a one hath cast away his final worth when
he hath cast away his servitude.
Free from what? What doth that matter to
Zarathustra! Clearly, however, shall thine eye
show unto me: free for what?
Canst thou give unto thyself thy bad and thy



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70 THUS SPAKE ZARATHUSTRA, I.
The furthest ones are they who pay for your love
to the near ones; and when there are but five of
you together, a sixth must always die.
I love not your festivals either: too many actors
found I there, and even the spectators often
behaved like actors.
Not the neighbour do I teach you, but the friend.
Let the friend be the festival of the earth to you,
and a foretaste of the Superman.
I teach you the friend and his overflowing heart.
But one must know how to be a sponge, if one
would be loved by overflowing hearts.
I teach you the friend in whom the world standeth
complete, a capsule of the good,—the creating friend,
who hath always a complete world to bestow.
And as the world unrolled itself for him, so
rolleth it together again for him in rings, as the
growth of good through evil, as the growth of
purpose out of chance.
Let the future and the furthest be the motive of
thy to-day; in thy friend shalt thou love the Super-
man as thy motive.
My brethren, I advise you not to neighbour-love
—I advise you to furthest love! —
Thus spake Zarathustra.
XVII. —THE WAY OF THE CREATING
ONE.
Wouldst thou go into isolation, my brother?
Wouldst thou seek the way unto thyself? Tarry
yet a little and hearken unto me.


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XVII. —THE WAY OF THE CREATING ONE. 71
"He who seeketh may easily get lost himself.
All isolation is wrong ": so say the herd. And
long didst thou belong to the herd.
The voice of the herd will still echo in thee.
And when thou sayest, " I have no longer a con-
science in common with you," then will it be a
plaint and a pain.
Lo, that pain itself did the same conscience
produce; and the last gleam of that conscience still
gloweth on thine affliction.
But thou wouldst go the way of thine affliction,
which is the way unto thyself? Then show me
thine authority and thy strength to do so!
Art thou a new strength and a new authority?
A first motion? A self-rolling wheel? Canst thou
also compel stars to revolve around thee?
Alas! there is so much lusting for loftiness!
There are so many convulsions of the ambitions!
Show me that thou art not a lusting and ambitious
one!
Alas! there are so many great thoughts that do
nothing more than the bellows: they inflate, and
make emptier than ever.
Free, dost thou call thyself? Thy ruling thought
would I hear of, and not that thou hast escaped
from a yoke.
Art thou one entitled to escape from a yoke?
Many a one hath cast away his final worth when
he hath cast away his servitude.
Free from what? What doth that matter to
Zarathustra! Clearly, however, shall thine eye
show unto me: free for what?
Canst thou give unto thyself thy bad and thy
V


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72 THUS SPAKE ZARATHUSTRA, I.
good, and set up thy will as a law over thee?
Canst thou be judge for thyself, and avenger of thy
law? ,
Terrible is aloneness with the judge and avenger
of one's own law. Thus is a star projected into
desert space, and into the icy breath of aloneness.
To-day sufferest thou still from the multitude,
thou individual; to-day hast thou still thy courage
unabated, and thy hopes.
But one day will the solitude weary thee; one
day will thy pride yield, and thy courage quail.
Thou wilt one day cry: "I am alone! "
One day wilt thou see no longer thy loftiness,
and see too closely thy lowliness; thy sublimity
itself will frighten thee as a phantom. Thou wilt
one day cry: "All is false! "
There are feelings which seek to slay the lonesome
one; if they do not succeed, then must they them-
selves die! But art thou capable of it—to be a
murderer?
Hast thou ever known, my brother, the word
"disdain "? And the anguish of thy justice in
being just to those that disdain thee?
Thou forcest many to think differently about
thee; that, charge they heavily to thine account.
Thou eamest nigh unto them, and yet wentest
past: for that they never forgive thee.
Thou goest beyond them: but the higher thou
risest, the smaller doth the eye of envy see thee.
Most of all, however, is the flying one hated.
"How could ye be just unto me! "—must thou
say—" 1 choose your injustice as my allotted
portion. "


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XVII. -THE WAY OF THE CREATING ONE. 73
Injustice and filth cast they at the lonesome
one : but, my brother, if thou wouldst be a star,
thou must shine for them none the less on that
account!
And be on thy guard against the good and just!
They would fain crucify those who devise their
own virtue—they hate the lonesome ones.
Be on thy guard, also, against holy simplicity!
All is unholy to it that is not simple; fain, likewise,
would it play with the fire-of the fagot and stake.
And be on thy guard, also, against the assaults
of thy love! Too readily doth the recluse reach
his hand to any one who meeteth him.
To many a one mayest thou not give thy
hand, but only thy paw; and I wish thy paw also
to have claws.
But the worst enemy thou canst meet, wilt thou
thyself always be; thou waylayest thyself in
caverns and forests.
Thou lonesome one, thou goest the way to thy-
self! And past thyself and thy seven devils lead-
eth thy way!
A heretic wilt thou be to thyself, and a wizard
and a sooth-sayer, and a fool, and a doubter, and
a reprobate, and a villain.
Ready must thou be to burn thyself in thine own
flame ; how couldst thou become new if thou have
not first become ashes !
Thou lonesome one, thou goest the way of the
creating one: a God wilt thou create for thyself
out of thy seven devils !
Thou lonesome one, thou goest the way of the
loving one: thou lovest thyself, and on that account


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74
THUS SPAKE ZARATHUSTRA, I.
despisest thou thyself, as only the loving ones
despise.
To create, desireth the loving one, because he
despiseth! What knoweth he of love who hath
not been obliged to despise just what he loved !
With thy love, go into thine isolation, my brother,
and with thy creating; and late only will justice
limp after thee.
With my tears, go into thine isolation, my brother.
I love him who seeketh to create beyond himself,
and thus succumbeth. -
Thus spake Zarathustra.
XVIII. —OLD AND YOUNG WOMEN.
“Why stealest thou along so furtively in the twi-
light, Zarathustra ? And what hidest thou so care-
fully under thy mantle ?
Is it a treasure that hath been given thee? Or a
child that hath been born thee? Or goest thou
thyself on a thief's errand, thou friend of the evil? "-
Verily, my brother, said Zarathustra, it is a
treasure that hath been given me: it is a little
truth which I carry.
But it is naughty, like a young child ; and if I
hold not its mouth, it screameth too loudly.
As I went on my way alone to-day, at the hour
when the sun declineth, there met me an old woman,
and she spake thus unto my soul :
"Much hath Zarathustra spoken also to us
women, but never spake he unto us concerning
woman. ”


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XVIII. —OLD AND YOUNG WOMEN. 75
And I answered her: "Concerning woman, one
should only talk unto men. "
"Talk also unto me of woman," said she; "I am
old enough to forget it presently. "
And I obliged the old woman and spake thus
unto her:
Everything in woman is a riddle, and everything
in woman hath one solution—it is called pregnancy.
Man is for woman, a means: the purpose is always
the child. But what is woman for man?
Two different things wanteth the true man:
danger and diversion. Therefore wanteth he
woman, as the most dangerous plaything.
Man shall be trained for war, and woman for the
recreation of the warrior: all else is folly.
Too sweet fruits—these the warrior liketh not.
Therefore liketh he woman;—bitter is even the
sweetest woman.
Better than man doth woman understand children,
but man is more childish than woman.
In the true man there is a child hidden: it
wanteth to play. Up then, ye women, and discover
the child in man!
A plaything let woman be, pure and fine like the
precious stone, illumined with the virtues of a
world not yet come.
Let the beam of a star shine in your love! Let
your hope say: "May I bear the Superman! "
In your love let there be valour! With your
love shall ye assail him who inspireth you with
fear!
In your love be your honour! Little doth
woman understand otherwise about honour. But


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76 THUS SPAKE ZARATHUSTRA, I.
let this be your honour: always to love more than
ye are loved, and never be the second.
Let man fear woman when she loveth: then
maketh she every sacrifice, and everything else she
regardeth as worthless.
Let man fear woman when she hateth: for man in
his innermost soul is merely evil; woman, however,
is mean.
Whom hateth woman most? —Thus spake the
iron to the loadstone: "I hate thee most, because
thou attractest, but art too weak to draw unto
thee. "
The happiness of man is, " I will. " The happi-
ness of woman is, "He will. "
"Lo! now hath the world become perfect! "—
thus thinketh every woman when she obeyeth with
all her love.
Obey, must the woman, and find a depth for her
surface. Surface, is woman's soul, a mobile, stormy
film on shallow water.
Man's soul, however, is deep, its current gusheth
in subterranean caverns: woman surmiseth its
force, but comprehendeth it not. —
Then answered me the old woman: "Many fine
things hath Zarathustra said, especially for those
who are young enough for them.
Strange! Zarathustra knoweth little about
woman, and yet he is right about them! Doth this
happen, because with women nothing is impossible?
And now accept a little truth by way of thanks!
I am old enough for it!
Swaddle it up and hold its mouth: otherwise it
will scream too loudly, the little truth. "


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XVIII. -OLD AND YOUNG WOMEN.
77
"Give me, woman, thy little truth! ” said I. And
thus spake the old woman :
“Thou goest to women? Do not forget thy
whip! ”–
Thus spake Zarathustra.
XIX. —THE BITE OF THE ADDER.
One day had Zarathustra fallen asleep under a
fig-tree, owing to the heat, with his arms over his
face. And there came an adder and bit him in
the neck, so that Zarathustra screamed with pain.
When he had taken his arm from his face he
looked at the serpent; and then did it recognise
the eyes of Zarathustra, wriggled awkwardly, and
tried to get away. “Not at all,” said Zarathustra,
"as yet hast thou not received my thanks! Thou
hast awakened me in time; my journey is yet
long. ” “Thy journey is short,” said the adder,
sadly; “my poison is fatal. ” Zarathustra smiled.
"When did ever a dragon die of a serpent's poison? "
-said he. “But take thy poison back! Thou art
not rich enough to present it to me. " Then fell
the adder again on his neck, and licked his
wound.
When Zarathustra once told this to his disciples
they asked him: “And what, O Zarathustra, is the
moral of thy story? " And Zarathustra answered
them thus:
The destroyer of morality, the good and just cay
me: my story is immoral,


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78 THUS SPAKE ZARATHUSTRA, I.
When, however, ye have an enemy, then return
him not good for evil: for that would abash him.
But prove that he hath done something good to you.
And rather be angry than abash any one! And
when ye are cursed, it pleaseth me not that ye
should then desire to bless. Rather curse a little
also!
And should a great injustice befall you, then
do quickly five small ones besides. Hideous to
behold is he on whom injustice presseth alone.
Did ye ever know this? Shared injustice is
half justice. And he who can bear it, shall take
the injustice upon himself!
A small revenge is humaner than no revenge
at all. And if the punishment be not also a right
and an honour to the transgressor, I do not like
your punishing.
Nobler is it to own oneself in the wrong than
to establish one's right, especially if one be in
the right. Only, one must be rich enough to do so.
I do not like your cold justice; out of the eye
of your judges there always glanceth the execu-
tioner and his cold steel.
Tell me: where find we justice, which is love
with seeing eyes?
Devise me, then, the love which not only beareth
all punishment, but also all guilt!
Devise me, then, the justice which acquitteth
every one, except the judge!
And would ye hear this likewise? To him who
seeketh to be just from the heart, even the lie
becometh philanthropy.
But how could I be just from the heart! How


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XIX. —THE BITE OF THE ADDER.
79
can I give every one his own! Let this be enough
for me : I give unto every one mine own.
Finally, my brethren, guard against doing wrong
to any anchorite. How could an anchorite forget!
How could he requite!
Like a deep well is an anchorite. Easy is it to
throw in a stone: if it should sink to the bottom,
however, tell me, who will bring it out again?
Guard against injuring the anchorite! If ye
have done so, however, well then, kill him also ! -
Thus spake Zarathustra.
XX. -CHILD AND MARRIAGE.
I have a question for thee alone, my brother :
like a sounding-lead, cast I this question into thy
soul, that I may know its depth.
Thou art young, and desirest child and marriage.
But I ask thee: Art thou a man entitled to desire
a child ?
Art thou the victorious one, the self-conqueror,
the ruler of thy passions, the master of thy virtues ?
Thus do I ask thee.
Or doth the animal speak in thy wish, and
necessity? Or isolation? Or discord in thee?
I would have thy victory and freedom long for
a child. Living monuments shalt thou build to thy
victory and emancipation.
Beyond thyself shalt thou build. But first of
all must thou be built thyself, rectangular in body
and soul.


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80 THUS SPAKE ZARATHUSTRA, I.
Not only onward shalt thou propagate thyself,
but upward! For that purpose may the garden of
marriage help thee!
A higher body shalt thou create, a first move-
ment, a spontaneously rolling wheel—a creating
one shalt thou create.
Marriage: so call I the will of the twain to create
the one that is more than those who created it.
The reverence for one another, as those exercising
such a will, call I marriage.
Let this be the significance and the truth of thy
marriage. But that which the many-too-many call
marriage, those superfluous ones—ah, what shall I
call it?
Ah, the poverty of soul in the twain! Ah, the
filth of soul in the twain! Ah, the pitiable self-
complacency in the twain!
Marriage they call it all; and they say their
marriages are made in heaven.
Well, I do not like it, that heaven of the super-
fluous! No, I do not like them, those animals
tangled in the heavenly toils!
Far from me also be the God who limpeth thither
to bless what he hath not matched!
Laugh not at such marriages! What child hath
not had reason to weep over its parents?
Worthy did this man seem, and ripe for the
meaning of the earth: but when I saw his wife, the
earth seemed to me a home for madcaps.
Yea, I would that the earth shook with convul-
sions when a saint and a goose mate with one
another.
This one went forth in quest of truth as a hero,


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XX. --CHILD AND MARRIAGE.
81
and at last got for himself a small decked-up lie:
his marriage he calleth it.
That one was reserved in intercourse and chose
choicely. But one time he spoilt his company for
all time: his marriage he calleth it.
Another sought a handmaid with the virtues of
an angel. But all at once he became the handmaid
of a woman, and now would he need also to become
an angel.
Careful, have I found all buyers, and all of them
have astute eyes. But even the astutest of them
buyeth his wife in a sack.
Many short follies—that is called love by you.
And your marriage putteth an end to many short
follies, with one long stupidity.
Your love to woman, and woman's love to man-
ah, would that it were sympathy for suffering and
veiled deities! But generally two animals light
on one another.
But even your best love is only an enraptured
simile and a painful ardour. It is a torch to
light you to loftier paths.
Beyond yourselves shall ye love some day!
Then learn first of all to love. And on that account
ye had to drink the bitter cup of your love.
Bitterness is in the cup even of the best love :
thus doth it cause longing for the Superman ; thus
doth it cause thirst in thee, the creating one!
Thirst in the creating one, arrow and longing
for the Superman: tell me, my brother, is this
thy will to marriage ?
Holy call I such a will, and such a marriage. -
Thus spake Zarathustra.


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82 THUS SPAKE ZARATHUSTRA, I.
XXI. —VOLUNTARY DEATH.
Many die too late, and some die too early. Yet
strange soundeth the precept: "Die at the right
time! "
Die at the right time: so teacheth Zarathustra.
To be sure, he who never liveth at the right time,
how could he ever die at the right time? Would
that he might never be born ! —Thus do I advise
the superfluous ones.
But even the superfluous ones make much ado
about their death, and even the hollowest nut
wanteth to be cracked.
Every one regardeth dying as a great matter:
but as yet death is not a festival. Not yet have
people learned to inaugurate the finest festivals.
The consummating death I show unto you,
which becometh a stimulus and promise to the
living.
His death, dieth the consummating one triumph-
antly, surrounded by hoping and promising ones.
Thus should one learn to die; and there should
be no festival at which such a dying one doth not
consecrate the oaths of the living!
Thus to die is best; the next best, however, is
to die in battle, and sacrifice a great soul.
But to the fighter equally hateful as to the
victor, is your grinning death which stealeth nigh
like a thief,—and yet cometh as master.
My death, praise I unto you, the voluntary
death, which cometh unto me because / want it.
And when shall I want it? —He that hath a


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XXI. —VOLUNTARY DEATH. 83
goal and an heir, wanteth death at the right time
for the goal and the heir.
And out of reverence for the goal and the heir,
he will hang up no more withered wreaths in the
sanctuary of life.
Verily, not the rope -makers will I resemble:
they lengthen out their cord, and thereby go ever
backward.
Many a one, also, waxeth too old for his truths
and triumphs; a toothless mouth hath no longer
the right to every truth.
And whoever wanteth to have fame, must take
leave of honour betimes, and practise the difficult
art of—going at the right time.
One must discontinue being feasted upon when
one tasteth best: that is known by those who
want to be long loved.
Sour apples are there, no doubt, whose lot is
to wait until the last day of autumn: and at the
same time they become ripe, yellow, and shrivelled.
In some ageth the heart first, and in others the
spirit. And some are hoary in youth, but the
late young keep long young.
To many men life is a failure; a poison-worm
gnaweth at their heart. Then let them see to it
that their dying is all the more a success.
Many never become sweet; they rot even in the
summer. It is cowardice that holdeth them fast
to their branches.
Far too many live, and far too long hang they
on their branches. Would that a storm came and
shook all this rottenness and worm-eatenness from
the tree!


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84 THUS SPAKE ZARATHUSTRA, I.
Would that there came preachers of speedy
death! Those would be the appropriate storms
and agitators of the trees of life! But I hear only
slow death preached, and patience with all that
is "earthly. "
Ah! ye preach patience with what is earthly?
This earthly is it that hath too much patience with
you, ye blasphemers!
Verily, too early died that Hebrew whom the
preachers of slow death honour: and to many
hath it proved a calamity that he died too early.
As yet had he known only tears, and the
melancholy of the Hebrews, together with the
hatred of the good and just—the Hebrew Jesus:
then was he seized with the longing for death.
Had he but remained in the wilderness, and far
from the good and just! Then, perhaps, would
he have learned to live, and love the earth—and
laughter also!
Believe it, my brethren! He died too early; he
himself would have disavowed his doctrine had he
attained to my age! Noble enough was he to
disavow!
But he was still immature. Immaturely loveth
the youth, and immaturely also hateth he man
and earth. Confined and awkward are still his
soul and the wings of his spirit.