No More Learning

LXIV. —THE LEECH.
And Zarathustra went thoughtfully on, further
and lower down, through forests and past moory
bottoms; as it happeneth, however, to every one


## p. 301 (#444) ############################################

300 THUS SPAKE ZARATHUSTRA, IV.
'Twas once—methinks year one of our blessed
Lord,—
Drunk without wine, the Sybil thus deplored :—
"How ill things go!
Decline! Decline! Ne'er sank the world so low!
Rome now hath turned harlot and harlot-stew,
Rome's Caesar a beast, and God—hath turned Jew! "
2.
With those rhymes of Zarathustra the kings were
delighted; the king on the right, however, said:
"O Zarathustra, how well it was that we set out
to see thee!
For thine enemies showed us thy likeness in
their mirror: there lookedst thou with the grimace
of a devil, and sneeringly: so that we were afraid
of thee.
But what good did it do! Always didst thou
prick us anew in heart and ear with thy sayings.
Then did we say at last: What doth it matter how
he look!
We must hear him; him who teacheth: 'Ye
shall love peace as a means to new wars, and the
short peace more than the long! '
No one ever spake such warlike words: 'What
is good? To be brave is good. It is the good
war that halloweth every cause. '
O Zarathustra, our fathers' blood stirred in our
veins at such words: it was like the voice of spring
to old wine-casks.
When the swords ran among one another like
red-spotted serpents, then did our fathers become
fond of life; the sun of every peace seemed to
r
1


## p. 301 (#445) ############################################

LXIII. —TALK WITH THE KINGS. 301
them languid and lukewarm, the long peace, how-
ever, made them ashamed.
How they sighed, our fathers, when they saw
on the wall brightly furbished, dried-up swords!
Like those they thirsted for war. For a sword
thirsteth to drink blood, and sparkleth with
desire. "
—When the kings thus discoursed and talked
eagerly of the happiness of their fathers, there
came upon Zarathustra no little desire to mock at
their eagerness: for evidently they were very
peaceable kings whom he saw before him, kings
with old and refined features. But he restrained
himself. "Well! " said he, "thither leadeth the
way, there lieth the cave of Zarathustra; and this
day is to have a long evening! At present, how-
ever, a cry of distress calleth me hastily away from
you.
It will honour my cave if kings want to sit and
wait in it: but, to be sure, you will have to wait
long!
Well! What of that! Where doth one at
present learn better to wait than at courts? And
the whole virtue of kings that hath remained unto
them—is it not called to-day: Ability to wait? "
Thus spake Zarathustra.
LXIV. —THE LEECH.
And Zarathustra went thoughtfully on, further
and lower down, through forests and past moory
bottoms; as it happeneth, however, to every one


## p. 301 (#446) ############################################

300 THUS SPAKE ZARATHUSTRA, IV.
'Twas once—methinks year one of our blessed
Lord,—
Drunk without wine, the Sybil thus deplored :—
"How ill things go!
Decline! Decline! Ne'er sank the world so low!
Rome now hath turned harlot and harlot-stew,
Rome's Caesar a beast, and God—hath turned Jew! "
With those rhymes of Zarathustra the kings were
delighted; the king on the right, however, said:
"O Zarathustra, how well it was that we set out
to see thee!
For thine enemies showed us thy likeness in
their mirror: there lookedst thou with the grimace
of a devil, and sneeringly: so that we were afraid
of thee.
But what good did it do! Always didst thou
prick us anew in heart and ear with thy sayings.
Then did we say at last: What doth it matter how
he look!
We must hear him; him who teacheth: 'Ye
shall love peace as a means to new wars, and the
short peace more than the long! '
No one ever spake such warlike words: 'What
is good? To be brave is good. It is the good
war that halloweth every cause. '
O Zarathustra, our fathers' blood stirred in our
veins at such words: it was like the voice of spring
to old wine-casks.
When the swords ran among one another like
red-spotted serpents, then did our fathers become
fond of life; the sun of every peace seemed to
r
\


## p. 301 (#447) ############################################

LXIII. —TALK WITH THE KINGS. 301
them languid and lukewarm, the long peace, how-
ever, made them ashamed.
How they sighed, our fathers, when they saw
on the wall brightly furbished, dried-up swords!
Like those they thirsted for war. For a sword
thirsteth to drink blood, and sparkleth with
desire. "
—When the kings thus discoursed and talked
eagerly of the happiness of their fathers, there
came upon Zarathustra no little desire to mock at
their eagerness: for evidently they were very
peaceable kings whom he saw before him, kings
with old and refined features. But he restrained
himself. "Well! " said he, "thither leadeth the
way, there lieth the cave of Zarathustra; and this
day is to have a long evening! At present, how-
ever, a cry of distress calleth me hastily away from
you.
It will honour my cave if kings want to sit and
wait in it: but, to be sure, you will have to wait
long!
Well! What of that! Where doth one at
present learn better to wait than at courts? And
the whole virtue of kings that hath remained unto
them—is it not called to-day: Ability to wait? "
Thus spake Zarathustra.
LXIV. —THE LEECH.
And Zarathustra went thoughtfully on, further
and lower down, through forests and past moory
bottoms; as it happeneth, however, to every one


## p. 301 (#448) ############################################

300 THUS SPAKE ZARATHUSTRA, IV.
'Twas once—methinks year one of our blessed
Lord,—
Drunk without wine, the Sybil thus deplored :—
"How ill things go!
Decline! Decline! Ne'er sank the world so low!
Rome now hath turned harlot and harlot-stew,
Rome's Caesar a beast, and God—hath turned Jew! "
With those rhymes of Zarathustra the kings were
delighted; the king on the right, however, said:
"O Zarathustra, how well it was that we set out
to see thee!
For thine enemies showed us thy likeness in
their mirror: there lookedst thou with the grimace
of a devil, and sneeringly: so that we were afraid
of thee.
But what good did it do! Always didst thou
prick us anew in heart and ear with thy sayings.
Then did we say at last: What doth it matter how
he look!
We must hear him; him who teacheth: * Ye
shall love peace as a means to new wars, and the
short peace more than the long! '
No one ever spake such warlike words: 'What
is good? To be brave is good. It is the good
war that halloweth every cause. '
O Zarathustra, our fathers' blood stirred in our
veins at such words: it was like the voice of spring
to old wine-casks.
When the swords ran among one another like
red-spotted serpents, then did our fathers become
fond of life; the sun of every peace seemed to


## p. 301 (#449) ############################################

LXIII. —TALK WITH THE KINGS. 301
them languid and lukewarm, the long peace, how-
ever, made them ashamed.
How they sighed, our fathers, when they saw
on the wall brightly furbished, dried-up swords!
Like those they thirsted for war. For a sword
thirsteth to drink blood, and sparkleth with
desire. "
—When the kings thus discoursed and talked
eagerly of the happiness of their fathers, there
came upon Zarathustra no little desire to mock at
their eagerness: for evidently they were very
peaceable kings whom he saw before him, kings
with old and refined features. But he restrained
himself. "Well! " said he, "thither leadeth the
way, there lieth the cave of Zarathustra; and this
day is to have a long evening! At present, how-
ever, a cry of distress calleth me hastily away from
you.
It will honour my cave if kings want to sit and
wait in it: but, to be sure, you will have to wait
long!
Well! What of that! Where doth one at
present learn better to wait than at courts? And
the whole virtue of kings that hath remained unto
them—is it not called to-day: Ability to wait? "
Thus spake Zarathustra.
LXIV. —THE LEECH.
And Zarathustra went thoughtfully on, further
and lower down, through forests and past moory
bottoms; as it happeneth, however, to every one


## p. 302 (#450) ############################################

302 THUS SPAKE ZARATHUSTRA, IV.
who meditateth upon hard matters, he trod thereby
unawares upon a man. And lo, there spurted into
his face all at once a cry of pain, and two curses
and twenty bad invectives, so that in his fright he
raised his stick and also struck the trodden one.
Immediately afterwards, however, he regained his
composure, and his heart laughed at the folly he
had just committed.
"Pardon me," said he to the trodden one, who
had got up enraged, and had seated himself,
"pardon me, and hear first of all a parable.
As a wanderer who dreameth of remote things
on a lonesome highway, runneth unawares against
a sleeping dog, a dog which lieth in the sun:
—As both of them then start up and snap at
each other, like deadly enemies, those two beings
mortally frightened—so did it happen unto us.
And yet! And yet—how little was lacking for
them to caress each other, that dog and that lone-
some one! Are they not both—lonesome ones! "
—" Whoever thou art," said the trodden one,
still enraged, " thou treadest also too nigh me with
thy parable, and not only with thy foot!
Lo! am I then a dog ? "—And thereupon the
sitting one got up, and pulled his naked arm out
of the swamp. For at first he had lain outstretched
on the ground, hidden and indiscernible, like those
who lie in wait for swamp-game.
"But whatever art thou about! " called out
Zarathustra in alarm, for he saw a deal of blood
streaming over the naked arm,—" what hath hurt
thee? Hath an evil beast bit thee, thou unfortunate
one? "


## p. 303 (#451) ############################################

LXIV. —THE LEECH. 303
The bleeding one laughed, still angry. "What
matter is it to thee! " said he, and was about to go
on. "Here am I at home and in my province.
Let him question me whoever will: to a dolt, how-
ever, I shall hardly answer. "
"Thou art mistaken," said Zarathustra sym-
pathetically, and held him fast; "thou art mistaken.
Here thou art not at home, but in my domain, and
therein shall no one receive any hurt.
Call me however what thou wilt—I am who I
must be. I call myself Zarathustra.
Well! Up thither is the way to Zarathustra's
cave: it is not far,—wilt thou not attend to thy
wounds at my home?
It hath gone badly with thee, thou unfortunate
one, in this life: first a beast bit thee, and then—a
man trod upon thee! "
When however the trodden one had heard the
name of Zarathustra he was transformed. "What
happeneth unto me! " he exclaimed, "who pre-
occupieth me so much in this life as this one man,
namely Zarathustra, and that one animal that liveth
on blood, the leech?
For the sake of the leech did I lie here by this
swamp, like a fisher, and already had mine out-
stretched arm been bitten ten times, when there
biteth a still finer leech at my blood, Zarathustra
himself!
O happiness! O miracle! Praised be this day
which enticed me into the swamp! Praised be
the best, the livest cupping-glass, that at present
liveth; praised be the great conscience-leech
Zarathustra! "—


## p. 304 (#452) ############################################

304 THUS SPAKE ZARATHUSTRA, IV.
Thus spake the trodden one, and Zarathustra
rejoiced at his words and their refined reverential
style. "Who art thou? " asked he, and gave him
his hand, "there is much to clear up and elucidate
between us, but already methinketh pure clear day
is dawning. "
"I am the spiritually conscientious one" answered
he who was asked, " and in matters of the spirit it
is difficult for any one to take it more rigorously,
more restrictedly, and more severely than I, except
him from whom I learnt it, Zarathustra himself.
Better know nothing than half-know many
things! Better be a fool on one's own account,
than a sage on other people's approbation! I—go to
the basis:
—What matter if it be great or small? If it be
called swamp or sky? A handbreadth of basis
is enough for me, if it be actually basis and ground!
—A handbreadth of basis: thereon can one stand.
In the true knowing-knowledge there is nothing
great and nothing small. "
"Then thou art perhaps an expert on the leech?
asked Zarathustra; "and thou investigatest the
leech to its ultimate basis, thou conscientious one? "
"O Zarathustra," answered the trodden one, " that
would be something immense; how could I presume
to do so!
That, however, of which I am master and knower,
is the brain of the leech :—that is my world!
And it is also a world! Forgive it, however, that
my pride here findeth expression, for here I have
not mine equal. Therefore said I: 'here am I at
home. '


## p. 305 (#453) ############################################

LXIV. —THE LEECH.
305
How long have I investigated this one thing, the
brain of the leech, so that here the slippery truth
might no longer slip from me! Here is my
domain !
-For the sake of this did I cast everything else
aside, for the sake of this did everything else become
indifferent to me; and close beside my knowledge
lieth my black ignorance.
My spiritual conscience requireth from me that
it should be so—that I should know one thing, and
not know all else: they are a loathing unto me, all
the semi-spiritual, all the hazy, hovering, and
visionary.
Where mine honesty ceaseth, there am I blind,
and want also to be blind. Where I want to know,
however, there want I also to be honest-namely,
severe, rigorous, restricted, cruel and inexorable.
Because thou once saidest, O Zarathustra : 'Spirit
is life which itself cutteth into life';—that led and
allured me to thy doctrine. And verily, with mine
own blood have I increased mine own knowledge! "
-"As the evidence indicateth,” broke in Zara-
thustra; for still was the blood flowing down on the
naked arm of the conscientious one. For there had
ten leeches bitten into it.
“O thou strange fellow, how much doth this very
evidence teach me-namely, thou thyself! And
not all, perhaps, might I pour into thy rigorous ear!
Well then! We part here! But I would fain find
thee again. Up thither is the way to my cave :
to-night shalt thou there be my welcome guest !
Fain would I also make amends to thy body for
Zarathustra treading upon thee with his feet: I


## p. 306 (#454) ############################################

304
THUS SPAKE ZARATHUSTI
Thus spake the trodden one, a
rejoiced at his words and their ref
style. "Who art thou? " asked h
his hand, "there is much to clear u
between us, but already methinket
is dawning. "
"I am the spiritually conscientio
he who was asked, "and in matte
is difficult for any one to take it
more restrictedly, and more seve
him from whom I learnt it, Zara
Better know nothing than
things! Better be a fool on
than a sage on other people's ap
the basis:
—What matter if it be grea
called swamp or sky?
A l
is enough for me, if it be actur
—A handbreadth of basis:
In the true knowing-knowl
great and nothing small. "
"Then thou art perhaps a
asked Zarathustra; "and
leech to its ultimate basis,
"O Zarathustra," answei
would be something imme
to do so!
That, however, of whic
is the brain of the leech
And it is also a work
my pride here findeth
not mine equal. The
home. '
*
txr. ~ ^
«ipJkirfti
(^ri
A****
j&zii
&a&-
to***1
it**
^
^k


## p. 307 (#455) ############################################

^1^—3^= «; JAN. 307
How long aw; rn^^. _, ^^^ ;evers
bnun of tee i-o. * 3= tt^ ^^ ,ld frost-arrows,
"J'ght no . cn^r ^ g, ^ . ™
*"■*', htening!
—For tk are ,--£=3. ^^. ^ ud-banks!
aside, for 4e are a^^^^
indifferent » bb . a ^^ darkness watcheth:
liethnrybbdtisaase n*r
My spfesi cases -v-. ivulsed
it should be a_te ^ ***
notknwal^ ^ **^*
&e semi-ionaa. i >"Ba'. c"«u
visionary. *, *d; g
^kere on* 1^ «^
however. ie»^--- *,«:»
severe. nW^ *" * : *te«. ny heart!
«caase cm ^^*" c ^*
ownhioQci^ ^ **e y'
*. . -=5t->-,-, odly flash-elances?
"OtW: ,, unfamiliar God ? —
^my hour?
'*ia, *,* ,' ie, pressest—
io closely!
I


## p. 307 (#456) ############################################

306
THUS SPAKE ZARATHUSTRA, IV.
think about that. Just now, however, a cry of
distress calleth me hastily away from thee. "
Thus spake Zarathustra.
LXV. –THE MAGICIAN.
I.
When however Zarathustra had gone round a
rock, then saw he on the same path, not far below
him, a man who threw his limbs about like a
maniac, and at last tumbled to the ground on his
belly. “Halt! ” said then Zarathustra to his heart,
"he there must surely be the higher man, from him
came that dreadful cry of distress, I will see if I
can help him. ” When, however, he ran to the spot
where the man lay on the ground, he found a
trembling old man, with fixed eyes; and in spite
of all Zarathustra's efforts to lift him and set him
again on his feet, it was all in vain. The unfortunate
one, also, did not seem to notice that some one was
beside him; on the contrary, he continually looked
around with moving gestures, like one forsaken and
isolated from all the world. At last, however, after
much trembling, and convulsion, and curling-him-
self-up, he began to lament thus :
Who warm'th me, who lov'th me still?
Give ardent fingers !
Give heartening charcoal-warmers !
Prone, outstretched, trembling,
Like him, half dead and cold, whose feet one
warm'th-


## p. 307 (#457) ############################################

LXV. -THE MAGICIAN.
307
And shaken, ah! by unfamiliar fevers,
Shivering with sharpened, icy-cold frost-arrows,
By thee pursued, my fancy!
Ineffable! Recondite! Sore-frightening!
Thou huntsman 'hind the cloud-banks !
Now lighthing-struck by thee,
Thou mocking eye that me in darkness watcheth :
_Thus do I lie,
Bend myself, twist myself, convulsed
With all eternal torture,
And smitten
By thee, cruellest huntsman,
Thou unfamiliar-God . . .
Smite deeper !
Smite yet once more!
Pierce through and rend my heart !
What mean'th this torture
With dull, indented arrows ?
Why look'st thou hither,
Of human pain not weary,
With mischief-loving, godly flash-glances ?
Not murder wilt thou,
But torture, torture ?
For why-me torture,
Thou misr'ief-loving, unfamiliar God ? -
Ha! Ha!
Thou stealest nigh
In midnight's gloomy hour? . . .
What wilt thou ?
Speak!
Thou crowdst me, pressest-
Ha! now far too closely !


## p. 307 (#458) ############################################

306 THUS SPAKE ZARATHUSTRA, IV.
think about that. Just now, however, a cry of
distress calleth me hastily away from thee. "
Thus spake Zarathustra.
LXV. —THE MAGICIAN.
I.
When however Zarathustra had gone round a
rock, then saw he on the same path, not far below
him, a man who threw his limbs about like a
maniac, and at last tumbled to the ground on his
belly. "Halt! " said then Zarathustra to his heart,
"he there must surely be the higher man, from him
came that dreadful cry of distress,—I will see if I
can help him. " When, however, he ran to the spot
where the man lay on the ground, he found a
trembling old man, with fixed eyes; and in spite
of all Zarathustra's efforts to lift him and set him
again on his feet, it was all in vain. The unfortunate
one, also, did not seem to notice that some one was
beside him; on the contrary, he continually looked
around with moving gestures, like one forsaken and
isolated from all the world. At last, however, after
much trembling, and convulsion, and curling-him-
self-up, he began to lament thus:
Who warm'th me, who lov'th me still?
Give ardent fingers!
Give heartening charcoal-warmers!
Prone, outstretched, trembling,
Like him, half dead and cold, whose feet one
warm'th—


## p. 307 (#459) ############################################

LXV. —THE MAGICIAN. 307
And shaken, ah! by unfamiliar fevers,
Shivering with sharpened, icy-cold frost-arrows,
By thee pursued, my fancy!
Ineffable! Recondite! Sore-frightening!
Thou huntsman 'hind the cloud-banks!
Now lightning-struck by thee,
Thou mocking eye that me in darkness watcheth:
—Thus do I lie,
Bend myself, twist myself, convulsed
With all eternal torture,
And smitten
By thee, cruellest huntsman,
Thou unfamiliar—God . . .
Smite deeper!
Smite yet once more!
Pierce through and rend my heart!
What mean'th this torture
With dull, indented arrows?
Why look'st thou hither,
Of human pain not weary,
With mischief-loving, godly flash-glances?
Not murder wilt thou,
But torture, torture?
For why—me torture,
Thou misr'. ief-loving, unfamiliar God? —
Ha! Ha!
Thou stealest nigh
In midnight's gloomy hour? . . .
What wilt thou?
Speak!
Thou crowdst me, pressest—
Ha! now far too closely!


## p. 308 (#460) ############################################

308
THUS SPAKE ZARATHUSTRA, IV.
Thou hearst me breathing,
Thou o'erhearst my heart,
Thou ever jealous one!
Of what, pray, ever jealous ?
Off! Off !
For why the ladder ?
Wouldst thou get in ?
To heart in-clamber?
To mine own secretest
Conceptions in-clamber?
Shameless one! Thou unknown one ! —Thief!
What seekst thou by thy stealing?
What seekst thou by thy hearkening?
What seekst thou by thy torturing ?
Thou torturer!
Thou-hangman-God!
Or shall I, as the mastiffs do,
Roll me before thee?
And cringing, enraptured, frantical,
My tail friendly-waggle !
In vain !
Goad further!
Cruellest goader !
No dog—thy game just am I,
Cruellest huntsman !
Thy proudest of captives,
Thou robber 'hind the cloud-banks . . .
Speak finally!
Thou lightning-veiled one! Thou unknown one!
Speak!
What wilt thou, highway-ambusher, from--me?
What wilt thou, unfamiliar-God?


## p. 309 (#461) ############################################

LXV. -THE MAGICIAN.
309
What ?
Ransom-gold?
How much of ransom-gold ?
Solicit much--that bid'th my pride!
And be concise-that bid'th mine other pride!
Ha! Ha!
Memwantst thou? me?
-Entire? . . .
Ha! Ha!
And torturest me, fool that thou art,
Dead-torturest quite my pride ?
Give love to me-who warm'th me still ?
Who lov'th me still ? —
Give ardent fingers,
Give heartening charcoal-warmers,
Give me, the lonesomest,
The ice (ah! seven-fold frozen ice,
For very enemies,
For foes, doth make one thirst),
Give, yield to me,
Cruellest foe,
-Thyself ! -- -
Away!
There fled he surely,
My final, only comrade,
My greatest foe,
Mine unfamiliar-
My hangman-God! . . .
–Nay !
Come thou back!
With all of thy great tortures !


## p. 310 (#462) ############################################

310
THUS SPAKE ZARATHUSTRA, IV.
To me the last of lonesome ones,
Oh, come thou back!
All my hot tears in streamlets trickle
Their course to thee!
And all my final hearty fervour-
Up-glow'th to thee !
Oh, come thou back,
Mine unfamiliar God! my pain !
My final bliss !
2.
-Here, however, Zarathustra could no longer re-
strain himself; he took his staff and struck the
wailer with all his might. “Stop this,” cried he to
him with wrathful laughter, “stop this, thou stage-
player! Thou false coiner! Thou liar from the
very heart! I know thee well!
I will soon make warm legs to thee, thou evil
magician: I know well how-to make it hot for
such as thou ! ”
-"Leave off,” said the old man, and sprang up
from the ground, "strike me no more, O Zara-
thustra!