Message #33011

[VoraX]

 49. The Bedwarfing Virtue

                            1.

  WHEN Zarathustra was again on the continent, he did not go
straightway 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 floweth back unto 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? Verily, no great soul put them up as its
simile!
  Did perhaps a silly child take them out of its toy-box? Would that
another 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
others eat with them."
  And Zarathustra stood still and meditated. At last he said
sorrowfully: "There hath 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 gave his discourse on the bedwarfing
virtue.

                            2.

  I pass through this people and keep mine eyes open: they do not
forgive me for not envying their virtues.
  They bite at me, because I say unto them that for small people,
small virtues are necessary- and because it is hard for me to
understand that small people are necessary!
  Here am I still like a **** 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, seemeth 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 thinketh- of me!
  This is the new stillness which I have experienced: their noise
around me spreadeth 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 doth not bring a plague upon us!"
  And recently did a woman seize upon her child that was coming unto
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 "hath 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 unto me: it
scratcheth me even when I take it off.
  And this also did I learn among them: the praiser doeth as if he
gave back; in truth, however, he wanteth more to be given him!
  Ask my foot if their lauding and luring strains please it! Verily,
to such measure and ticktack, it liketh neither to dance nor to
stand still.
  To small virtues would they fain lure and laud me; to the ticktack
of small happiness would they fain persuade my foot.
  I pass through this people and keep mine 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.
  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 masculinise
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, thou servest, we serve"- so chanteth here even the
hypocrisy of the rulers- and alas! if the first lord be only the first
servant!
  Ah, even upon their hypocrisy did mine 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 unto 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 maketh 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 maketh modest and tame: therewith have
they made the wolf a dog, and man himself man's best domestic animal.
  "We set our chair in the midst"- so saith their smirking unto me-
"and as far from dying gladiators as from satisfied swine."
  That, however, is- mediocrity, though it be called moderation.-

                            3.

  I pass through this people and let fall many words: but they know
neither how to take nor how to retain them.
  They wonder why I came not to revile venery and vice; and verily,
I came not to warn against pickpockets either!
  They wonder why I am not ready to abet and whet their wisdom: as
if they had not yet enough of wiseacres, whose voices grate on mine
ear like slate-pencils!
  And when I call out: "Curse all the cowardly devils in you, that
would fain whimper and fold the hands and adore"- then do they
shout: "Zarathustra is godless."
  And especially do their teachers of submission shout this;- but
precisely in their ears do I love to cry: "Yea! I am Zarathustra,
the godless!"
  Those teachers of submission! Wherever there is aught puny, or
sickly, or scabby, there do they creep like lice; and only my
disgust preventeth me from cracking them.
  Well! This is my sermon for their ears: I am Zarathustra the
godless, who saith: "Who is more godless than I, that I may enjoy
his teaching?"
  I am Zarathustra the godless: where do I find mine equal? And all
those are mine equals who give unto themselves their Will, and
divest themselves of all submission.
  I am Zarathustra the godless! I cook every chance in my pot. And
only when it hath been quite cooked do I welcome it as my food.
  And verily, many a chance came imperiously unto me: but still more
imperiously did my Will speak unto it,- then did it lie imploringly
upon its knees-
  -Imploring that it might find home and heart with me, and saying
flatteringly: "See, O Zarathustra, how friend only cometh unto
friend!"-
  But why talk I, when no one hath mine ears! And so will I shout it
out unto all the winds:
  Ye ever become smaller, ye small people! Ye crumble away, ye
comfortable ones! Ye will yet perish-
  -By your many small virtues, by your many small omissions, and by
your many small submissions!
  Too tender, too yielding: so is your soil! But for a tree to
become great, it seeketh to twine hard roots around hard rocks!
  Also what ye omit weaveth at the web of all the human future; even
your naught is a cobweb, and a spider that liveth on the blood of
the future.
  And when ye take, then is it like stealing, ye small virtuous
ones; but even among knaves honour saith that "one shall only steal
when one cannot rob."
  "It giveth itself"- that is also a doctrine of submission. But I say
unto you, ye comfortable ones, that it taketh to itself, and will ever
take more and more from you!
  Ah, that ye would renounce all half-willing, and would decide for
idleness as ye decide for action!
  Ah, that ye understood my word: "Do ever what ye will- but first
be such as can will.
  Love ever your neighbour as yourselves- but first be such as love
themselves-
  -Such as love with great love, such as love with great contempt!"
Thus speaketh Zarathustra the godless.-
  But why talk I, when no one hath mine ears! It is still an hour
too early for me here.
  Mine own forerunner am I among this people, mine own cockcrow in
dark lanes.
  But their hour cometh! And there cometh also mine! Hourly do they
become smaller, poorer, unfruitfuller,- poor herbs! poor earth!
  And soon shall they stand before me like dry grass and prairie,
and verily, weary of themselves- and panting for fire, more than for
water!
  O blessed hour of the lightning! O mystery before noontide!- Running
fires will I one day make of them, and heralds with flaming tongues:-
  -Herald shall they one day with flaming tongues: It cometh, it is
nigh, the great noontide!

  Thus spake Zarathustra.