Message #32984

[VoraX]

 22. The Bestowing Virtue

                            1.

  WHEN Zarathustra had taken leave of the town to which his heart
was attached, the name of which is "The Pied Cow," there followed
him many people who called themselves his disciples, and kept him
company. Thus came they to a crossroads. Then Zarathustra told them
that he now wanted to go alone; for he was fond of going alone. His
disciples, however, presented him at his departure with a staff, on
the golden handle of which a serpent twined round the sun. Zarathustra
rejoiced on account of the staff, and supported himself thereon;
then spake he thus to his disciples:
  Tell me, pray: how came gold to the highest value? Because it is
uncommon, and unprofiting, and beaming, and soft in lustre; it
always bestoweth itself.
  Only as image of the highest virtue came gold to the highest
value. Goldlike, beameth the glance of the bestower. Gold-lustre
maketh peace between moon and sun.
  Uncommon is the highest virtue, and unprofiting, beaming is it,
and soft of lustre: a bestowing virtue is the highest virtue.
  Verily, I divine you well, my disciples: ye strive like me for the
bestowing virtue. What should ye have in common with cats and wolves?
  It is your thirst to become sacrifices and gifts yourselves: and
therefore have ye the thirst to accumulate all riches in your soul.
  Insatiably striveth your soul for treasures and jewels, because your
virtue is insatiable in desiring to bestow.
  Ye constrain all things to flow towards you and into you, so that
they shall flow back again out of your fountain as the gifts of your
love.
  Verily, an appropriator of all values must such bestowing. love
become; but healthy and holy, call I this selfishness.-
  Another selfishness is there, an all-too-poor and hungry kind, which
would always steal- the selfishness of the sick, the sickly
selfishness.
  With the eye of the thief it looketh upon all that is lustrous; with
the craving of hunger it measureth him who hath abundance; and ever
doth it prowl round the tables of bestowers.
  Sickness speaketh in such craving, and invisible degeneration; of
a sickly body, speaketh the larcenous craving of this selfishness.
  Tell me, my brother, what do we think bad, and worst of all? Is it
not degeneration?- And we always suspect degeneration when the
bestowing soul is lacking.
  Upward goeth our course from genera on to super-genera. But a horror
to us is the degenerating sense, which saith: "All for myself."
  Upward soareth our sense: thus is it a simile of our body, a
simile of an elevation. Such similes of elevations are the names of
the virtues.
  Thus goeth the body through history, a becomer and fighter. And
the spirit- what is it to the body? Its fights' and victories' herald,
its companion and echo.
  Similes, are all names of good and evil; they do not speak out, they
only hint. A fool who seeketh knowledge from them!
  Give heed, my brethren, to every hour when your spirit would speak
in similes: there is the origin of your virtue.
  Elevated is then your body, and raised up; with its delight,
enraptureth it the spirit; so that it becometh creator, and valuer,
and lover, and everything's benefactor.
  When your heart overfloweth broad and full like the river, a
blessing and a danger to the lowlanders: there is the origin of your
virtue.
  When ye are exalted above praise and blame, and your will would
command all things, as a loving one's will: there is the origin of
your virtue.
  When ye despise pleasant things, and the effeminate couch, and
cannot couch far enough from the effeminate: there is the origin of
your virtue.
  When ye are willers of one will, and when that change of every
need is needful to you: there is the origin of your virtue.
  Verily, a new good and evil is it! Verily, a new deep murmuring, and
the voice of a new fountain!
  Power is it, this new virtue; a ruling thought is it, and around
it a subtle soul: a golden sun, with the serpent of knowledge around
it.

                            2.

  Here paused Zarathustra awhile, and looked lovingly on his
disciples. Then he continued to speak thus- and his voice had changed:
  Remain true to the earth, my brethren, with the power of your
virtue! Let your bestowing love and your knowledge be devoted to be
the meaning of the earth! Thus do I pray and conjure you.
  Let it not fly away from the earthly and beat against eternal
walls with its wings! Ah, there hath always been so much flown-away
virtue!
  Lead, like me, the flown-away virtue back to the earth- yea, back to
body and life: that it may give to the earth its meaning, a human
meaning!
  A hundred times hitherto hath spirit as well as virtue flown away
and blundered. Alas! in our body dwelleth still all this delusion
and blundering: body and will hath it there become.
  A hundred times hitherto hath spirit as well as virtue attempted and
erred. Yea, an attempt hath man been. Alas, much ignorance and error
hath become embodied in us!
  Not only the rationality of millennia- also their madness,
breaketh out in us. Dangerous is it to be an heir.
  Still fight we step by step with the giant Chance, and over all
mankind hath hitherto ruled nonsense, the lack-of-sense.
  Let your spirit and your virtue be devoted to the sense of the
earth, my brethren: let the value of everything be determined anew
by you! Therefore shall ye be fighters! Therefore shall ye be
creators!
  Intelligently doth the body purify itself; attempting with
intelligence it exalteth itself; to the discerners all impulses
sanctify themselves; to the exalted the soul becometh joyful.
  Physician, heal thyself: then wilt thou also heal thy patient. Let
it be his best cure to see with his eyes him who maketh himself whole.
  A thousand paths are there which have never yet been trodden; a
thousand salubrities and hidden islands of life. Unexhausted and
undiscovered is still man and man's world.
  Awake and hearken, ye lonesome ones! From the future come winds with
stealthy pinions, and to fine ears good tidings are proclaimed.
  Ye lonesome ones of today, ye seceding ones, ye shall one day be a
people: out of you who have chosen yourselves, shall a chosen people
arise:- and out of it the Superman.
  Verily, a place of healing shall the earth become! And already is
a new odour diffused around it, a salvation-bringing odour- and a
new hope!

                            3.

  When Zarathustra had spoken these words, he paused, like one who had
not said his last word; and long did he balance the staff doubtfully
in his hand. At last he spake thus- and his voice had changed:
  I now go alone, my disciples! Ye also now go away, and alone! So
will I have it.
  Verily, I advise you: depart from me, and guard yourselves against
Zarathustra! And better still: be ashamed of him! Perhaps he hath
deceived you.
  The man of knowledge must be able not only to love his enemies,
but also to hate his friends.
  One requiteth a teacher badly if one remain merely a scholar. And
why will ye not pluck at my wreath?
  Ye venerate me; but what if your veneration should some day
collapse? Take heed lest a statue crush you!
  Ye say, ye believe in Zarathustra? But of what account is
Zarathustra! Ye are my believers: but of what account are all
believers!
  Ye had not yet sought yourselves: then did ye find me. So do all
believers; therefore all belief is of so little account.
  Now do I bid you lose me and find yourselves; and only when ye
have all denied me, will I return unto you.
  Verily, with other eyes, my brethren, shall I then seek my lost
ones; with another love shall I then love you.
  And once again shall ye have become friends unto me, and children of
one hope: then will I be with you for the third time, to celebrate the
great noontide with you.
  And it is the great noontide, when man is in the middle of his
course between animal and Superman, and celebrateth his advance to the
evening as his highest hope: for it is the advance to a new morning.
  At such time will the down-goer bless himself, that he should be
an over-goer; and the sun of his knowledge will be at noontide.
  "Dead are all the Gods: now do we desire the Superman to live."- Let
this be our final will at the great noontide!-

  Thus spake Zarathustra.