Rather will I sit in a tub under a closed heaven, rather will I sit in the abyss without heaven, than see you, you luminous heaven, tainted with passing clouds!
And oft have I longed to pin them fast with the jagged gold-wires of lightning, that I might, like the thunder, beat the drum upon their kettle-bellies:-
-An angry drummer, because they rob me of your Yes and Amen!- you heaven above me, you pure, you luminous heaven! you abyss of light!-because they rob you of my Yes and Amen.
For rather will I have noise and thunders and tempest-blasts, than this discreet, doubting cat-repose; and also amongst men do I hate most of all the soft-treaders, and half-and-half ones, and the doubting, hesitating, passing clouds.
And «he who cannot bless shall learn to curse!»- this clear teaching dropt to me from the clear heaven; this star stands in my heaven even in dark nights.
I, however, am a blesser and a Yes-sayer, if you be but around me, you pure, you luminous heaven! you abyss of light!- into all abysses do I then carry my beneficent Yes-saying.
A blesser have I become and a Yes-sayer: and therefore strove I long and was a striver, that I might one day get my hands free for blessing.
This, however, is my blessing: to stand above everything as its own heaven, its round roof, its azure bell and eternal security: and blessed is he who thus blesses!
For all things are baptized at the font of eternity, and beyond good and evil; good and evil themselves, however, are but fugitive shadows and damp afflictions and passing clouds.
It is a blessing and not a blasphemy when I teach that «above all things there stands the heaven of chance, the heaven of innocence, the heaven of hazard, the heaven of wantonness.»
«Of Hazard»- that is the oldest nobility in the world; that gave I back to all things; I emancipated them from bondage under purpose.
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This freedom and celestial serenity did I put like an azure bell above all things, when I taught that over them and through them, no «eternal Will»- wills.
This wantonness and folly did I put in place of that Will, when I taught that «In everything there is one thing impossible- rationality!»
A little reason, to be sure, a germ of wisdom scattered from star to star- this leaven is mixed in all things: for the sake of folly, wisdom is mixed in all things!
A little wisdom is indeed possible; but this blessed security have I found in all things, that they prefer- to dance on the feet of chance.
O heaven above me! you pure, you lofty heaven! This is now your pur-ity to me, that there is no eternal reason-spider and reason-cobweb:-
-That you are to me a dancing-floor for divine chances, that you are to me a table of the Gods, for divine dice and dice-players!-
But you blush? Have I spoken unspeakable things? Have I abused, when I meant to bless you?
Or is it the shame of being two of us that makes you blush!- do you bid me go and be silent, because now- day comes?
The world is deep:- and deeper than e’er the day could read. Not everything may be uttered in presence of day. But day comes: so let us part!
O heaven above me, you modest one! you glowing one! O you, my happiness before sunrise! The day comes: so let us part!-
Thus spoke Zarathustra.
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Chapter 5
Virtue That Diminishes
1.
WHEN Zarathustra was again on the continent, he did not go straight-way to his mountains and his cave, but made many wanderings and questionings, and ascertained this and that; so that he said of himself jestingly: «Lo, a river that flows back to its source in many windings!» For he wanted to learn what had taken place among men during the interval: whether they had become greater or smaller. And once, when he saw a row of new houses, he marvelled, and said:
«What do these houses mean? no great soul put them up as its simile! Did perhaps a silly child take them out of its toy-box? Would that an-
other child put them again into the box!
And these rooms and chambers- can men go out and in there? They seem to be made for silk dolls; or for dainty-eaters, who perhaps let oth-ers eat with them.»
And Zarathustra stood still and meditated. At last he said sorrowfully: «There has everything become smaller!
Everywhere do I see lower doorways: he who is of my type can still go therethrough, but- he must stoop!
Oh, when shall I arrive again at my home, where I shall no longer have to stoop- shall no longer have to stoop before the small ones!»- And Zarathustra sighed, and gazed into the distance.-
The same day, however, he spoke on the virtue that makes small.
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2.
I pass through this people and keep my eyes open: they do not forgive me for not envying their virtues.
They bite at me, because I say to them that for small people, small vir-tues are necessary- and because it is hard for me to understand that small people are necessary!
Here am I still like a cock in a strange farm-yard, at which even the hens peck: but on that account I am not unfriendly to the hens.
I am courteous towards them, as towards all small annoyances; to be prickly towards what is small, seems to me wisdom for hedgehogs.
They all speak of me when they sit around their fire in the evening-they speak of me, but no one thinks- of me!
This is the new stillness which I have experienced: their noise around me spreads a mantle over my thoughts.
They shout to one another: «What is this gloomy cloud about to do to us? Let us see that it does not bring a plague upon us!»
And recently did a woman seize upon her child that was coming to me: «Take the children away,» cried she, «such eyes scorch children’s souls.»
They cough when I speak: they think coughing an objection to strong winds- they divine nothing of the boisterousness of my happiness!
«We have not yet time for Zarathustra»- so they object; but what matter about a time that «has no time» for Zarathustra?
And if they should altogether praise me, how could I go to sleep on their praise? A girdle of spines is their praise to me: it scratches me even when I take it off.
And this also did I learn among them: the praiser does as if he gave back; in truth, however, he wants more to be given him!
Ask my foot if their lauding and luring strains please it! to such meas-ure and ticktack, it likes neither to dance nor to stand still.
To small virtues would they rather lure and laud me; to the ticktack of small happiness would they rather persuade my foot.
I pass through this people and keep my eyes open; they have become smaller, and ever become smaller:- the reason thereof is their doctrine of happiness and virtue.
For they are moderate also in virtue,- because they want comfort. With comfort, however, moderate virtue only is compatible.
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To be sure, they also learn in their way to stride on and stride forward: that, I call their hobbling.- Thereby they become a hindrance to all who are in haste.
And many of them go forward, and look backwards thereby, with stiffened necks: those do I like to run up against.
Foot and eye shall not lie, nor give the lie to each other. But there is much lying among small people.
Some of them will, but most of them are willed. Some of them are genuine, but most of them are bad actors.
There are actors without knowing it amongst them, and actors without intending it-, the genuine ones are always rare, especially the genuine actors.
Of man there is little here: therefore do their women masculinize themselves. For only he who is man enough, will- save the woman in woman.
And this hypocrisy found I worst amongst them, that even those who command feign the virtues of those who serve.
«I serve, you serve, we serve»- so chants here even the hypocrisy of the rulers- and alas! if the first lord be only the first servant!
Ah, even upon their hypocrisy did my eyes’ curiosity alight; and well did I divine all their fly- happiness, and their buzzing around sunny window-panes.
So much kindness, so much weakness do I see. So much justice and pity, so much weakness.
Round, fair, and considerate are they to one another, as grains of sand are round, fair, and considerate to grains of sand.
Modestly to embrace a small happiness- that do they call «submission»! and at the same time they peer modestly after a new small happiness.
In their hearts they want simply one thing most of all: that no one hurt them. Thus do they anticipate every one’s wishes and do well to every one.
That, however, is cowardice, though it be called «virtue.»-
And when they chance to speak harshly, those small people, then do I hear therein only their hoarseness- every draught of air makes them hoarse.
Shrewd indeed are they, their virtues have shrewd fingers. But they lack fists: their fingers do not know how to creep behind fists.
Virtue for them is what makes modest and tame: therewith have
