Therefore do I wash the hand that has helped the sufferer; therefore do I wipe also my soul.
For in seeing the sufferer suffering- thereof was I ashamed on account of his shame; and in helping him, sorely did I wound his pride.
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Great obligations do not make grateful, but revengeful; and when a small kindness is not forgotten, it becomes a gnawing worm.
«Be shy in accepting! Distinguish by accepting!»- thus do I advise those who have naught to give.
I, however, am a giver: willingly do I give as friend to friends. Strangers, however, and the poor, may pluck for themselves the fruit from my tree: thus does it cause less shame.
Beggars, however, one should entirely do away with! it annoys one to give to them, and it annoys one not to give to them.
And likewise sinners and bad consciences! Believe me, my friends: the sting of conscience teaches one to sting.
The worst things, however, are the petty thoughts. Better to have done evilly than to have thought pettily!
To be sure, you say: «The delight in petty evils spares one many a great evil deed.» But here one should not wish to be sparing.
Like a boil is the evil deed: it itches and irritates and breaks forth- it speaks honorably.
«Behold, I am disease,» says the evil deed: that is its honorableness.
But like infection is the petty thought: it creeps and hides, and wants to be nowhere- until the whole body is decayed and withered by the petty infection.
To him however, who is possessed of a devil, I would whisper this word in the ear: «Better for you to rear up your devil! Even for you there is still a path to greatness!»-
Ah, my brothers! One knows a little too much about every one! And many a one becomes transparent to us, but still we can by no means pen-etrate him.
It is difficult to live among men because silence is so difficult.
And not to him who is offensive to us are we most unfair, but to him who does not concern us at all.
If, however, you have a suffering friend, then be a resting-place for his suffering; like a hard bed, however, a camp-bed: thus will you serve him best.
And if a friend does you wrong, then say: «I forgive you what you have done to me; that you have done it to yourself, however- how could I forgive that!»
Thus speaks all great love: it overcomes even forgiveness and pity. One should hold fast one’s heart; for when one lets it go, how quickly
does one’s head run away!
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Ah, where in the world have there been greater follies than with the pitiful? And what in the world has caused more suffering than the follies of the pitiful?
Woe to all loving ones who have not an elevation which is above their pity!
Thus spoke the devil to me, once on a time: «Even God has his hell: it is his love for man.»
And lately, did I hear him say these words: «God is dead: of his pity for man has God died.»-
So be you warned against pity: from thence there yet comes to men a heavy cloud! I understand weather-signs!
But attend also to this word: All great love is above all its pity: for it seeks- to create what is loved!
«Myself do I offer to my love, and my neighbor as myself»- such is the language of all creators.
All creators, however, are hard.-Thus spoke Zarathustra.
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Chapter 4 The Priests
AND one day Zarathustra made a sign to his disciples and spoke these words to them:
«Here are priests: but although they are my enemies, pass them quietly and with sleeping swords!
Even among them there are heroes; many of them have suffered too much:- so they want to make others suffer.
Bad enemies are they: nothing is more revengeful than their meekness. And readily does he soil himself who touches them.
But my blood is related to theirs; and I want withal to see my blood honored in theirs.»-
And when they had passed, a pain attacked Zarathustra; but not long had he struggled with the pain, when he began to speak thus:
It moves my heart for those priests. They also go against my taste; but that is the small matter to me, since I am among men.
But I suffer and have suffered with them: prisoners are they to me, and stigmatised ones. He whom they call Saviour put them in fetters:-
In fetters of false values and fatuous words! Oh, that some one would save them from their Saviour!
On an isle they once thought they had landed, when the sea tossed them about; but behold, it was a slumbering monster!
False values and fatuous words: these are the worst monsters for mor-tals- long slumbers and waits the fate that is in them.
But at last it comes and awakes and devours and engulfs whatever has built tabernacles upon it.
Oh, just look at those tabernacles which those priests have built them-selves! Churches, they call their sweet-smelling caves!
Oh, that falsified light, that mustified air! Where the soul- may not fly aloft to its height!
But so enjoins their belief: «On your knees, up the stair, you sinners!»
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Rather would I see a shameless one than the distorted eyes of their shame and devotion!
Who created for themselves such caves and penitence-stairs? Was it not those who sought to conceal themselves, and were ashamed under the clear sky?
And only when the clear sky looks again through ruined roofs, and down upon grass and red poppies on ruined walls- will I again turn my heart to the seats of this God.
They called God that which opposed and afflicted them: and verily, there was much hero-spirit in their worship!
And they knew not how to love their God otherwise than by nailing men to the cross!
As corpses they thought to live; in black draped they their corpses; even in their talk do I still feel the evil flavor of charnel-houses.
And he who lives near to them lives near to black pools, wherein the toad sings his song with sweet gravity.
Better songs would they have to sing, for me to believe in their Sa-viour: more! like saved ones would his disciples have to appear to me!
Naked, would I like to see them: for beauty alone should preach penit-ence. But whom would that disguised affliction convince!
Their saviours themselves came not from freedom and freedom’s sev-enth heaven! they themselves never trod the carpets of knowledge!
Of defects did the spirit of those saviours consist; but into every defect had they put their illusion, their stop-gap, which they called God.
In their pity was their spirit drowned; and when they swelled and o’erswelled with pity, there always floated to the surface a great folly.
Eagerly and with shouts drove they their flock over their foot-bridge; as if there were but one foot-bridge to the future! those shepherds also were still of the flock!
Small spirits and spacious souls had those shepherds: but, my broth-ers, what small domains have even the most spacious souls hitherto been!
Characters of blood did they write on the way they went, and their folly taught that truth is proved by blood.
But blood is the very worst witness to truth; blood taints the purest teaching, and turns it into delusion and hatred of heart.
And when a person goes through fire for his teaching- what does that prove! It is more, verily, when out of one’s own burning comes one’s own teaching!
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Sultry heart and cold head; where these meet, there arises the bluster-er, the «Saviour.»
Greater ones, verily, have there been, and higher-born ones, than those whom the people call saviours, those rapturous blusterers!
And by still greater ones than any of the saviours must you be saved, my brothers, if you would find the way to freedom!
Never yet has there been a Superman. Naked have I seen both of them, the greatest man and the small man:-
All-too-similar are they still to each other. Even the greatest found I-all-too-human!-
Thus spoke Zarathustra.
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Chapter 5 The Virtuous
WITH thunder and heavenly fireworks must one speak to indolent and somnolent senses.
But beauty’s voice speaks gently: it appeals only to the most awakened souls.
Gently vibrated and laughed to me to-day my buckler; it was beauty’s holy laughing and thrilling.
At you, you virtuous ones, laughed my beauty to-day. And thus came its voice to me: «They want- to be paid besides!»
You want to be paid besides, you virtuous ones! You want reward for virtue, and heaven for earth, and eternity for your to-day?
And now you upbraid me for teaching that there is no reward-giver, nor paymaster? And verily, I do not even teach that virtue is its own reward.
Ah! this is my sorrow: into the basis of things have reward and pun-ishment been insinuated- and now even into the basis of your souls, you virtuous ones!
But like the snout of the boar shall my word grub up the basis of your souls; a ploughshare will I be called by you.
All the secrets of your heart shall be brought to light; and when you lie in the sun, grubbed up and broken, then will also your falsehood be sep-arated from your truth.
For this is your truth: you are too pure for the filth of the words: ven-geance, punishment, recompense, retribution.
You love your virtue as a mother loves
