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- Thus Spake Zarathustra - 40/76 -
petty lies of pity:--thus have I ever lived among men.
Disguised did I sit amongst them, ready to misjudge 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 "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.
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.
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 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 fawningly, the old, faithful, hundred-headed dog-monster that I love!--
Well! Here will I hold the scales over the weltering 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.
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 stinking 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.
Passion for power: the earthquake which breaketh and upbreaketh all that is rotten and hollow; the rolling, rumbling, punitive demolisher of whited sepulchres; the flashing interrogative-sign beside premature answers.
Passion for power: before whose glance man creepeth and croucheth and drudgeth, and becometh lower than the serpent and the swine:--until at last great contempt crieth out of him--,
Passion for power: the terrible teacher of great contempt, which preacheth to their face to cities and empires: "Away with thee!"--until a voice crieth out of themselves: "Away with ME!"
Passion for power: which, however, mounteth alluringly even to the pure and lonesome, and up to self-satisfied elevations, glowing like a love that painteth purple felicities alluringly on earthly heavens.
Passion for power: but who would call it PASSION, when the height longeth to stoop for power! Verily, nothing sick or diseased is there in such longing and descending!
That the lonesome height may not for ever remain lonesome and self- sufficing; that the mountains may come to the valleys and the winds of the heights to the plains:--
Oh, who could find the right prenomen and honouring name for such longing! "Bestowing virtue"--thus did Zarathustra once name the unnamable.
And then it happened also,--and verily, it happened for the first time!-- that his word blessed SELFISHNESS, the wholesome, healthy selfishness, that springeth from the powerful soul:--
--From the powerful soul, to which the high body appertaineth, the handsome, triumphing, refreshing body, around which everything becometh a mirror:
--The pliant, persuasive body, the dancer, whose symbol and epitome is the self-enjoying soul. Of such bodies and souls the self-enjoyment calleth itself "virtue."
With its words of good and bad doth such self-enjoyment shelter itself as with sacred groves; with the names of its happiness doth it banish from itself everything contemptible.
Away from itself doth it banish everything cowardly; it saith: "Bad--THAT IS cowardly!" Contemptible seem to it the ever-solicitous, the sighing, the complaining, and whoever pick up the most trifling advantage.
It despiseth also all bitter-sweet wisdom: for verily, there is also wisdom that bloometh in the dark, a night-shade wisdom, which ever sigheth: "All is vain!"
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