“For me, that is to say, for the inexorable which is now silent in me, but will not always be silent. And if you are a part of me, still it is not as my right arm.
“For he who himself stands, like you, on sickly and tender legs, wishes above all to be spared, whether he is conscious of it or hides it from himself.
“My arms and my legs, however, I do not treat indulgently, nor I do spare my warriors: how then could you be fit for my warfare?
“With you I should still spoil all my victories. And many of you would tumble over if you heard only the loud beating of my drums.
“Moreover, you are not sufficiently beautiful and well-born for me. I require pure, smooth mirrors for my teachings; on your surface even my own likeness is distorted.
“On your shoulders many a burden presses, many a recollection; many an evil dwarf squats in your corners. There is hidden mob in you too.
“And though you are high and of a higher type, much in you is crooked and misshapen. There is no smith in the world that could hammer you right and straight for me.
“You are only bridges: may higher ones pass over on you! You are steps: so do not be angry with him who climbs over you into his height!
“Out of your seed there may one day arise for me a genuine son and perfect heir: but that time is distant. You yourselves are not those to whom my heritage and name belong.
“Not for you do I wait here in these mountains; not with you may I descend for the last time. You have come to me only as omens that higher ones are on the way to me,—
—“not the men of great longing, of great loathing, of great satiety, and that which you call the remnant of god;
—“No! No! Three times No! For others I wait here in these mountains, and will not lift my foot from there without them;
—“for higher ones, stronger ones, more triumphant ones, merrier ones, for such as are built squarely in body and soul: laughing lions must come!
“O my guests, you strange ones-have you yet heard nothing of my children? And that they are on the way to me?
“Speak to me of my gardens, of my happy islands, of my new beautiful race—why do you not speak to me of them?
“This guests’ present I ask of your love, that you speak to me of my children. For them I am rich, for them I became poor: what have I not surrendered,
—“what would I not surrender that I might have one thing: these children, this living garden, these life trees of my will and of my highest hope!”
Thus spoke Zarathustra, and stopped suddenly in his speech: for his longing came over him, and he closed his eyes and his mouth because of the agitation of his heart. And all his guests were silent too and stood still and were confounded: except that the old soothsayer gestured with his hands and his features.
THE LAST SUPPER7
FOR AT THIS POINT the soothsayer interrupted the greeting of Zarathustra and his guests: he thrust himself forward like one who had no time to lose, seized Zarathustra’s hand and exclaimed: “But Zarathustra!
“One thing is more necessary than another, so you say yourself: well, one thing is now more necessary to me than all others.
“A word at the right time: did not you invite me to a meal? And here are many who have made long journeys. You do not mean to feed us merely with speeches?
“Besides, all of you have thought too much about freezing, drowning, suffocating, and other bodily dangers: none of you, however, has thought of my danger, namely, dying of hunger—”
(Thus spoke the soothsayer. But when Zarathustra’s animals heard these words, they ran away in terror. For they saw that all they had brought home during the day would not be enough to fill this one soothsayer.)
“And dying of thirst,” continued the soothsayer. “And although I hear water splashing here like words of wisdom-that is to say, abundantly and tirelessly, I—want wine!
“Not every one is a born water drinker like Zarathustra. Neither does water suit weary and drooping men: we deserve wine-it alone gives immediate vigor and improvised health!”
“On this occasion, when the soothsayer was longing for wine, it happened that the king on the left, the silent one, also found speech for once. ”We took care,” he said, ”about wine, I, along with my brother the king on the right: we have enough wine,-a whole ass’s load of it. So nothing is lacking but bread.”
“Bread,” replied Zarathustra laughing, “it is precisely bread that hermits do not have. But man does not live by bread alone, but also by the flesh of good lambs, of which I have two:
—“these we shall slaughter quickly and cook spicily with sage: that is how I like them. And there is also no lack of roots and fruits, good enough even for gourmets and epicures; nor of nuts and other riddles that need cracking.
“Thus we will have a good meal in a little while. But whoever wants to eat with us must also give a hand to the work, even the kings. For with Zarathustra even a king may be a cook.”
This proposal appealed to the hearts of all of them, save that the voluntary beggar objected to the flesh and wine and spices.
“Just hear this glutton Zarathustra!” he said jokingly: “does one go into caves and high mountains to make such meals?
“Now indeed I understand what he once taught us: ‘A little poverty is blessed!’ And why he wishes to do away with beggars.”
“Be of good cheer,” replied Zarathustra, “as I am. Abide by your customs, you excellent one: grind your corn, drink your water, praise your own cooking: if only it makes you happy!
“I am a law only for my own, I am not a law for all. But he who belongs to me must be strong-limbed and nimble-footed,—
—“cheerful in war and feasting, no sulker, no dreamer, ready for what is hardest as for the feast, healthy and whole.
“The best belongs to me and mine; and if we are not given it, then we take it: the best food, the purest sky, the strongest thoughts, the fairest women!”—
Thus spoke Zarathustra; but the king on the right answered and said: “Strange! Has one ever heard such clever things out of the mouth of a wise man?
“And truly, it is the strangest wise man who is clever and no ass.”
Thus spoke the king on the right and wondered; but the ass maliciously replied Yeah-Yuh. This, however, was the beginning of that long meal which is called “The Last Supper” in the history books. At this there was nothing else discussed but the higher man.8
THE HIGHER MAN
1
WHEN I CAME TO men for the first time, I committed the folly of hermits, the great folly: I appeared in the marketplace.
And when I spoke to all, I spoke to none. In the evening, however, tightrope walkers were my companions, and corpses; and I myself was almost a corpse.
With the new morning, however, there came to me a new truth: then I learned to say: “What are the marketplace and the mob and the mob’s noise and long mob ears to me!”
You higher men, learn this from me: in the marketplace no one believes in higher men. And if you want to speak there, very well! But the mob blinks: “We are all equal.”
“You higher men,”—so the mob blink—“there are no higher men, we are all equal, man is but man, before God—we are all equal!”
Before God!-But now this god has died. Before the mob, however, we will not be equal. You higher men, go away from the marketplace!
2
Before God!-But now this god has died! You higher men, this god was your greatest danger.
Only since he lay in the grave have you again arisen. Only now comes the great noon, only now does the higher man become—master!
Have you understood this word, O my brothers? You are frightened: do your hearts turn giddy? Does the abyss here yawn for you? Does the dog of hell here yelp at you?
Well! Take heart! you higher men! Only now is the mountain of man’s future at labor. God has died: now we want—the Übermensch to live.
3
The most careful ask today: “How is man to be preserved?” B
ut Zarathustra asks as the first and only one: “How is man to be overcome?”
I have the Übermensch at heart, he is the first and only thing to me—and not man: not the nearest, not the poorest, not the most suffering, not the best.-O my brothers, what I can love in man is that he is an over-going and a going under. And in you too there is much that makes me love and hope.
That you have despised, you higher men, that makes me hope. For the great despisers are the great reverers.
That you have despaired, there is much honor in that. For you have not learned to submit, you have not learned petty prudence.
For today the petty have become master: they all preach submission and humility and prudence and diligence and consideration and the long et cetera of petty virtues.
What is of womanish, what stems from the slavishness and especially the hodgepodge of the mob: that now wants to be master of all human destiny—O disgust! disgust! disgust!
That asks and asks and never tires: “How is man to preserve himself best, longest, most pleasantly?” With that-they are the masters of today.
Overcome these masters of today, O my brothers-these little people: they are the Übermensch’s greatest danger!
Overcome, you higher men, the petty virtues, the petty prudences, the sand-grain discretion, the ant’s pretensions, the wretched contentment, the “happiness of the greatest number”—!
And rather despair than submit. And truly, I love you, because you do not know today how to live, you higher men! For thus you live-the best!
4
Do you have courage, O my brothers? Are you brave? Not courage before witnesses but hermit and eagle courage, which not even a god observes any more?
I do not call brave the cold souls, the mulish, the blind and the drunken. He has heart who knows fear but conquers it; who sees the abyss, but with pride.
He who sees the abyss, but with eagle’s eyes—he who grasps the abyss with eagle’s talons: he has courage.____
5
“Man is evil”—all the wisest have told me that to comfort me. Ah, if only it were still true today! For evil is man’s best strength.
“Man must become better and more evil”—thus I teach. The most evil is necessary for the Übermensch’s best.
It may have been good for that preacher of the little people to suffer and be burdened by men’s sin. But I rejoice in great sin as my great consolation.—
But such things are not said for long ears. Neither does every word suit every mouth. These are subtle remote things: sheep’s hooves should not reach for them!
6
You higher men, do you think that I am here to put right what you have put wrong?
Or that I wished henceforth to make cozier beds for you sufferers? Or show you restless, erring, straying ones new and easier footpaths?
No! No! Three times No! Always more, always better ones of your kind must perish-for life must be harder and harder for you. Thus alone—
—Thus alone man grows to the height where the lightning strikes and shatters him: high enough for the lightning!
My soul and my seeking go forth towards the few, the long, the remote: what are your many little brief miseries to me!
You do not yet suffer enough for me! For you suffer from yourselves, you have not yet suffered from man. You would lie if you said otherwise! None of you suffers from what I have suffered.____
7
It is not enough for me that the lightning no longer does any harm. I do not want to conduct it away: it shall learn-to work for me.-My wisdom has long accumulated like a cloud, it becomes stiller and darker. So does all wisdom which shall one day bear lightnings.—
To these men of today I will not be light, nor be called light. Them—I will blind: lightning of my wisdom! put out their eyes!
8
Will nothing beyond your power: there is a wicked falseness in those who will beyond their power.
Especially when they will great things! For they awaken distrust in great things, these subtle counterfeiters and actors:—
—until at last they are false to themselves, squint-eyed, whitewashed worm-eaten decay, cloaked with strong words, pretended virtues and glittering false deeds.
Take good care there, you higher men! For nothing today is more precious to me and rarer than honesty.
Is this today not the mob’s? But the mob does not know what is great, what is small, what is straight and honest: it is innocently crooked, it always lies.
9
Have a good mistrust today you higher men, you stouthearted! You openhearted! And keep your reasons secret! For this today is the mob’s.
What the mob once learned to believe without reasons, who could-refute it with reasons?
And in the marketplace one convinces with gestures. But reasons make the mob mistrustful.
And if truth triumphed there for once, then ask yourselves with good mistrust: “What strong error fought for it?”
Be on your guard too against the learned! They hate you: for they are sterile! They have cold, desiccated eyes, before which all birds lie unplumed.
Such people brag that they do not lie: but the inability to lie is far from the love of truth. Beware!
Freedom from fever is far from being knowledge! I do not believe frozen spirits. He who cannot lie does not know what truth is.
10
If you want to rise high, use your own legs! Do not let yourselves be carried up, do not sit on the backs and heads of strangers!
But you mounted a horse? You are now riding briskly up to your goal? Well, my friend! But your lame foot is also with you on horseback!
When you reach your goal, when you jump from your horse: precisely on your height, you higher man—you will stumble!
11
You creators, you higher men! One is pregnant only with one’s own child.
Do not let yourselves be imposed upon or beguiled! For who is your neighbor? Even if you do things “for your neighbor”—you still do not create for him!
Unlearn this “for,” you creators: your very virtue wants you to have nothing to do with “for” and “for the sake of” and “because.” You should stop your ears against these false little words.
“For one’s neighbor,” is the virtue only of petty people: there they say “like attracts like” and “one hand washes the other”—they have neither the right nor the strength for your selfishness!
In your selfishness, you creators, is the caution and providence of the pregnant! What no one’s eye has yet seen, the fruit: that is sheltered and indulged and nourished by your whole love.
Where your whole love is, with your child, there too is your whole virtue! Your work, your will is your “neighbor”: let no false values beguile you!
12
You creators, you higher men! Whoever must give birth is sick; but whoever has given birth is unclean.
Ask women: one does not give birth for pleasure. The pain makes hens and poets cackle.
You creators, there is much in you that is unclean. That is because you had to be mothers.
A new child: oh, how much new filth has also come into the world! Go aside! And whoever has given birth should wash his soul clean!
13
Do not be virtuous beyond your strength! And do not ask anything improbable from yourselves!
Follow in the footsteps of your fathers’ virtue! How would you climb high if the will of your fathers did not climb with you?
But he who wants to be a firstborn should see that he does not also become a lastborn! And where the vices of your fathers are you should not pretend to be saints!
If your fathers were for women, strong wine and wild boars, what would it be if you demanded chastity of yourself?
It would be folly! Truly, I think it would be much if such a one were the husband of one or of two or of three women.
And if he founded monasteries and wrote above their doors: “The way to holiness,” I should still say: What of it! it is a new folly!
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He founded a reformatory and a refuge for himself: much good may it do! But I do not believe in it.
In solitude there grows what anyone brings into it, the inner beast too. Therefore solitude is inadvisable to many.
Has there ever been anything filthier on earth than the saints of the wilderness? Around them not only the devil was loose-but also the swine.
14
Shy, ashamed, awkward, like a tiger whose spring has failed: thus, you higher men, I have often seen you slink aside. A throw you made had failed.
But what does it matter, you dice players! You have not learned to play and mock as one ought to play and mock! Don’t we always sit at a great table of mocking and playing?
And if you have failed at great things, does that mean you yourselves are-failures? And if you yourselves have been failures, has another failure therefore been—man? But if man has been a failure: well then! come on!
15
The higher its type the less often a thing succeeds. You higher men here, are you not all-failures?
Be of good cheer; what does it matter! How much is still possible! Learn to laugh at yourselves as you ought to laugh!
No wonder that you have failed and only half succeeded, you half-broken ones! Does there not strive and struggle in you—man’s future?
Man’s greatest distance and depth and what in him is lofty as the stars, his prodigious strength: does not all that foam together in your pot?
No wonder many a pot is shattered! Learn to laugh at yourselves as you ought to laugh! You higher men, oh how much is still possible!
Thus Spoke Zarathustra Page 29
