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, sneezes my soul-sneezes, and shouts self-congratulatingly: «Health to you!»
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Thus spoke Zarathustra.
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Chapter 10 The Three Evils
1.
IN MY dream, in my last morning-dream, I stood today on a promon-tory- 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 has time, weighable by a good weigher, at-tainable by strong pinions, divinable by divine nutcrackers: thus did my
dream find the world:-
My dream, a bold sailor, half-ship, half-hurricane, silent as the butter-fly, 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 mocks at all «infinite worlds»? For it says: «Where force is, there becomes number the master: it has 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 to me:-
-As if a tree nodded to 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 be-fore me today:-
-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!
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How I thank my morning-dream that I thus at today’s dawn, weighed the world! As a humanly good thing did it come to 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 re-pute- these three things will I weigh humanly well.
Well! Here is my promontory, and there is the sea- it rolls here to 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 wit-ness do I choose to look on- you, the hermit-tree, you, the strong-odoured, broad-arched tree that I love!-
On what bridge goes the now to the hereafter? By what constraint do the high stoop to the low? And what enjoins 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 carries the other scale.
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2.
Voluptuousness: to all hair-shirted despisers of the body, a sting and stake; and, cursed as «the world,» by all the afterworldly: for it mocks and befools 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 wo-man:- and who has 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 cruel 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 rides on every horse and on every pride.
Passion for power: the earthquake which breaks and upbreaks 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 creeps and crouches and drudges, and becomes lower than the serpent and the swine:- until at last great contempt cries out of him-,
Passion for power: the terrible teacher of great contempt, which preaches to their face to cities and empires: «Away with you!»- until a voice cries out of themselves: «Away with me!»
Passion for power: which, however, mounts alluringly even to the pure and lonesome, and up to self-satisfied elevations, glowing like a love that paints purple felicities alluringly on earthly heavens.
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Passion for power: but who would call it passion, when the height longs to stoop for power! nothing sick or diseased is there in such long-ing and descending!
That the lonesome height may not forever 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 honoring name for such longing! «Giving 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 springs from the powerful soul:-
-From the powerful soul, to which the high body appertains, the hand-some, triumphing, refreshing body, around which everything becomes 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 calls itself «virtue.»
With its words of good and bad does such self-enjoyment shelter itself as with sacred groves; with the names of its happiness does it banish from itself everything contemptible.
Away from itself does it banish everything cowardly; it says: «Bad-that is cowardly!» Contemptible seem to it the ever-solicitous, the sigh-ing, the complaining, and whoever pick up the most trifling advantage.
It despises also all bitter-sweet wisdom: for verily, there is also wis-dom that blooms in the dark, a night-shade wisdom, which ever sighs: «All is vain!»
Shy distrust is regarded by it as base, and every one who wants oaths instead of looks and hands: also all over-distrustful wisdom,- for such is the mode of cowardly souls.
Baser still it regards the obsequious, doggish one, who immediately lies on his back, the submissive one; and there is also wisdom that is sub-missive, and doggish, and pious, and obsequious.
Hateful to it altogether, and a loathing, is he who will never defend himself, he who swallows down poisonous spittle and bad looks, the all-too-patient one, the all-endurer, the all-satisfied one: for that is the mode of slaves.
Whether they be servile before gods and divine spurnings, or before men and stupid human opinions: at all kinds of slaves does it spit, this blessed selfishness!
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Bad: thus does it call all that is spirit-broken, and sordidly-servile- con-strained, blinking eyes, depressed hearts, and the false submissive style, which kisses with broad cowardly lips.
And spurious wisdom: so does it call all the wit that slaves, and hoary-headed and weary ones affect; and especially all the cunning, spurious-witted, curious-witted foolishness of priests!
The spurious wise, however, all the priests, the world-weary, and those whose souls are of feminine and servile nature- oh, how has their game all along abused selfishness!
And precisely that was to be virtue and was to be called virtue- to ab-use selfishness! And «selfless»- so did they wish themselves with good reason, all those world-weary cowards and cross-spiders!
But to all those comes now the day, the change, the sword of judg-ment, the great noontide: then shall many things be revealed!
And he who proclaims the ego wholesome and sacred, and selfishness blessed, verily, he, the prognosticator, speaks also what he knows: «Behold, it comes, it is night, the great noontide!»
Thus spoke Zarathustra.
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Chapter 11 The Spirit of Gravity
1.
MY MOUTHPIECE- is of the people: too coarsely and cordially do I talk for Angora rabbits. And still stranger sounds my word to all ink-fish and pen-foxes.
My hand- is a fool’s hand: woe to all tables and walls, and whatever has room for fool’s sketching, fool’s scrawling!
My foot- is a horse-foot; therewith do I trample and trot over stick and stone, in the fields up and down, and am bedevilled with delight in all fast racing.
My stomach- is surely an eagle’s stomach? For it preferrs lamb’s flesh. Certainly it is a bird’s stomach.
Nourished with innocent things, and with few, ready and impatient to fly, to fly away- that is now my nature: why should there not be something of bird-nature therein!
And especially that I am hostile to the spirit of gravity, that is bird-nature:- verily, deadly hostile, supremely hostile, originally hostile! Oh, where has my hostility not flown and misflown!
Thereof could I sing a song-
