-Today, when everything totters, when all the earth quakes. You, however, when I see what eyes you make, it almost seems to me that you seek more insecurity,
-More horror, more danger, more earthquake. You long (it almost seems so to me- forgive my presumption, you higher men)-
-You long for the worst and dangerousest life, which frightens me most,- for the life of wild beasts, for forests, caves, steep mountains and labyrinthine gorges.
And it is not those who lead out of danger that please you best, but those who lead you away from all paths, the misleaders. But if such longing in you be actual, it seems to me nevertheless to be impossible.
For fear- that is man’s original and fundamental feeling; through fear everything is explained, original sin and original virtue. Through fear there grew also my virtue, that is to say: Science.
For fear of wild animals- that has been longest fostered in man, inclus-ive of the animal which he conceals and feares in himself:- Zarathustra calls it ‘the beast inside.’
Such prolonged ancient fear, at last become subtle, spiritual and intel-lectual- at present, me thinks, it is called Science.»-
Thus spoke the conscientious one; but Zarathustra, who had just come back into his cave and had heard and divined the last conversation, threw a handful of roses to the conscientious one, and laughed on ac-count of his «truths.» «Why!» he exclaimed, «what did I hear just now? it seems to me, you are a fool, or else I myself am one: and quietly and quickly will I Put your ‘truth’ upside down.
For fear- is an exception with us. Courage, however, and adventure, and delight in the uncertain, in the unattempted- courage seems to me the entire primitive history of man.
The wildest and most courageous animals has he envied and robbed of all their virtues: thus only did he become- man.
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This courage, at last become subtle, spiritual and intellectual, this hu-man courage, with eagle’s pinions and serpent’s wisdom: this, it seems to me, is called at present-«
«Zarathustra!» cried all of them there assembled, as if with one voice, and burst out at the same time into a great laughter; there arose, however, from them as it were a heavy cloud. Even the magician laughed, and said wisely: «Well! It is gone, my evil spirit!
And did I not myself warn you against it when I said that it was a de-ceiver, a lying and deceiving spirit?
Especially when it shows itself naked. But what can I do with regard to its tricks! Have I created it and the world?
Well! Let us be good again, and of good cheer! And although Zarathustra looks with evil eye- just see him! he dislikes me-:
-Ere night comes will he again learn to love and laud me; he cannot live long without committing such follies.
He- loves his enemies: this art knows he better than any one I have seen. But he takes revenge for it- on his friends!»
Thus spoke the old magician, and the higher men applauded him; so that Zarathustra went round, and mischievously and lovingly shook hands with his friends,- like one who has to make amends and apologise to every one for something. When however he had thereby come to the door of his cave, lo, then had he again a longing for the good air outside, and for his animals,- and wished to steal out.
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Chapter 16
Among Daughters of the Desert
1.
«GO NOT away!» said then the wanderer who called himself Zarathustra’s shadow, «abide with us- otherwise the old gloomy afflic-tion might again fall upon us.
Now has that old magician given us of his worst for our good, and lo! the good, pious pope there has tears in his eyes, and has quite embarked again upon the sea of melancholy.
Those kings may well put on a good air before us still: for that have they learned best of us all at present! Had they however no one to see them, I wager that with them also the bad game would again com-mence,-
-The bad game of drifting clouds, of damp melancholy, of curtained heavens, of stolen suns, of howling autumn-winds,
-The bad game of our howling and crying for help! Abide with us, O Zarathustra! Here there is much concealed misery that wishes to speak, much evening, much cloud, much damp air!
You have nourished us with strong food for men, and powerful aphor-isms: do not let the weakly, womanly spirits attack us anew at dessert!
You alone make the air around you strong and clear. Did I ever find anywhere on earth such good air as with you in your cave?
Many lands have I seen, my nose has learned to test and estimate many kinds of air: but with you do my nostrils taste their greatest delight!
Unless it be,- unless it be-, do forgive an old recollection! Forgive me an old after-dinner song, which I once composed amongst daughters of the desert:-
For with them was there equally good, clear, Oriental air; there was I furthest from cloudy, damp, melancholy Old-Europe!
Then did I love such Oriental maidens and other blue kingdoms of heaven, over which hang no clouds and no thoughts.
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You would not believe how charmingly they sat there, when they did not dance, profound, but without thoughts, like little secrets, like beribboned riddles, like dessert-nuts-
Many-hued and foreign, forsooth! but without clouds: riddles which can be guessed: to please such maidens I then composed an after-dinner psalm.»
Thus spoke the wanderer who called himself Zarathustra’s shadow; and before any one answered him, he had seized the harp of the old ma-gician, crossed his legs, and looked calmly and sagely around him:- with his nostrils, however, he inhaled the air slowly and questioningly, like one who in new countries tastes new foreign air. Afterward he began to sing with a kind of roaring.
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2.
The deserts grow: woe him who does them hide! -Ha!
Solemnly!
In effect solemnly!
A worthy beginning! Afric manner, solemnly! Of a lion worthy,
Or perhaps of a virtuous howl-monkey—But it’s naught to you,
You friendly damsels dearly loved, At whose own feet to me,
The first occasion,
To a European under palm-trees, At seat is now granted. Selah. Wonderful, truly!
Here do I sit now,
The desert nigh, and yet I am So far still from the desert, Even in naught yet deserted: That is, I’m swallowed down By this the small oasis-:
-It opened up just yawning, Its loveliest mouth agape,
Most sweet-odoured of all mouthlets: Then fell I right in,
Right down, right through- in ‘mong you, You friendly damsels dearly loved! Selah. Hail! hail! to that whale, fishlike,
If it thus for its guest’s convenience Made things nice!- (you well know, Surely, my learned allusion?)
Hail to its belly, If it had e’er
A such loveliest oasis-belly
As this is: though however I doubt about it, -With this come I out of Old-Europe,
That doubt’th more eagerly than do any Elderly married woman.
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May the Lord improve it! Amen!
Here do I sit now,
In this the small oasis, Like a date indeed,
Brown, quite sweet, gold-suppurating, For rounded mouth of maiden longing, But yet still more for youthful, maidlike, Ice-cold and snow-white and incisory Front teeth: and for such assuredly,
Pine the hearts all of ardent date-fruits. Selah. To the there-named south-fruits now, Similar, all-too-similar,
Do I lie here; by little Flying insects
Round-sniffled and round-played, And also by yet littler,
Foolisher, and peccabler Wishes and phantasies,-Environed by you,
You silent, presentientest Maiden-kittens,
Dudu and Suleika,
-Round sphinxed, that into one word I may crowd much feeling:
(Forgive me, O God,
All such speech-sinning!)
-Sit I here the best of air sniffling, Paradisal air, truly,
Bright and buoyant air, golden-mottled, As goodly air as ever
From lunar orb downfell-Be it by hazard,
Or supervened it by arrogancy? As the ancient poets relate it. But doubter, I’m now calling it
In question: with this do I come indeed Out of Europe,
That doubt’th more eagerly than do any Elderly married woman.
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May the Lord improve it! Amen.
This the finest air drinking,
With nostrils out-swelled like goblets, Lacking future, lacking remembrances, Thus do I sit here, ye
Friendly damsels dearly loved, And look at the palm-tree there, How it, to a dance-girl, like,
Do bow and bend and on its haunches bob, -One does it too, when one view’th it long!-To a dance-girl like, who as it seem’th to me, Too long, and dangerously persistent,
Always, always, just on single leg has stood? -Then forgot she thereby, as it seem’th to me, The other leg?
For vainly I, at least,
Did search for the amissing Fellow-jewel
-Namely, the other leg-
In the sanctified precincts,
Nigh her very dearest, very tenderest, Flapping and fluttering and flickering skirting.
Yes, if you should, you beauteous friendly ones, Quite take my word:
She hath, alas! lost it! Hu! Hu! Hu! Hu! Hu! It is away!
For ever away! The other leg!
Oh, pity for that loveliest other leg!
Where may it now tarry, all-forsaken weeping? The most lonesome leg?
In fear perhaps before a
Furious, yellow, blond and curled Leonine monster? Or perhaps even Gnawed away, nibbled badly-
Most wretched, woeful! woeful! nibbled badly! Selah. Oh, weep you not,
Gentle spirits!
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Weep you not, ye
Date-fruit spirits! Milk-bosoms! You sweetwood-heart Purselets!
Weep you
