August 5, 2025 • 35 mins
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Speaker 1 (00:00):
Thus spake Zarathustra by Friederic Nietzsche, translated by Thomas Common
Zarathustra's prolog one. When Zarathustra was thirty years old, he
left his home and the lake of his home, and
went into the mountains. There he enjoyed his spirit in solitude,
(00:24):
and for ten years did not weary of it. But
at last his heart changed, and, rising one morning with
the rosy dawn, he went before the sun and spake,
thus unto it, Thou, great star, what would be thy happiness?
If thou hadst not those for whom thou shinest for
ten years, hast thou climbed hither unto my cave, Thou
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wouldst have wearied of thy light and of the journey,
had it not been for me, mine eagle and my serpent.
But we awaited THEE every morning, took from thee thine overflow,
and blessed THEE for it. Lo, I am weary of
my wisdom, like the bee that hath gathered too much honey.
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I need hands outstretched to take it. I would fame, bestow,
and distribute, until the wise have once more become joyous
in their folly, and the poor happy in their riches. Therefore,
must I descend into the deep, as thou doest in
the evening, when thou goest behind the sea and givest
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light also to the nether world, Thou exuberant star like thee,
must I go down, as men say, to whom I
shall descend. Bless me, then, thou, tranquil I, that canst
behold even the greatest happiness without envy. Bless the cup
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that is about to overflow, that the water may flow
golden out of it and carry everywhere the reflection of
thy bliss. Lo this cup is again going to empty itself,
and Zarathustra is again going to be a man. Thus
began Zarathustra's down going Two. Zarathustra went down the mountain alone,
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no one meeting him. When he entered the forest, however,
there suddenly stood before him an old man who had
left his holy cot to seek roots. And thus spake
the old man to Zarathustra. No stranger to me. Is
this wanderer many years ago passed he by Zarathustra, he
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was called, but he hath altered. Then Thou carriest thine
ashes into the mountain. Wilt thou now carry thy fire
into the valleys. Fearest thou not the incendiary's doom? Yea
I recognize Zarathustra. Peer is his eye, and no loathing
lurketh about his mouth. Goeth he not along like a
(02:58):
dancer altered? Is Zarathustra. A child? Hath Zarathustra become an
awakened one? Is Zarathustra. What wilt thou do in the
land of the sleepers? As in the sea? Hast thou
lived in solitude, and it hath borne thee up alas
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wilt thou now go ashore? Alas wilt thou again drag
thy body thyself. Zarathustra answered, I love mankind? Why said
the Saint? Did I go into the forest and the desert?
Was it not because I loved men far too well?
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Now I love God men. I do not love man.
Is a thing too imperfect for me. Love to man
would be fatal to me. Zarathustra answered, what spake I
of love? I am bringing gifts unto men? Give them nothing,
said the Saint. Take rather part of their load and
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carry it along with them. That will be most agreeable
unto them, if only it be agreeable unto thee. If however,
thou wilt give unto them, give them no more than
an alms, and let them also beg for it. No,
replied Zarathustra, I give no alms. I am not poor
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enough for that. The saint laughed at Zarathustra and spake. Thus,
then see to it that they accept thy treasures. They
are distrustful of anchorites, and do not believe that we
come with gifts. The fall of our footsteps wringeth too
hollow through their streets. And just as at night when
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they are in bed and hear a man abroad long
before sunrise, so they ask themselves concerning us, where goeth
the thief? Go not to men, but stay in the forest,
Go rather to the animals. Be like me a bear
amongst bears, a bird amongst birds. And what doeth the
(05:08):
saint in the forest, asked Zarathustra. The saint answered, I
make hymns and sing them, And in making hymns I
laugh and weep and mumble. Thus do I praise God
with singing, weeping, laughing and mumbling? Do I praise the
God who is my God? But what dost thou bring
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us as a gift. When Zarathustra had heard these words,
he bowed to the saint and said, what should I
have to give thee? Let me rather hurry, hence lest
I take aught away from thee. And thus they parted
from one another, the old man and Zarathustra, laughing like schoolboys.
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When Zarathustra was alone, however, he said to his heart,
could it be possible, this old saying, the forest hath
not yet heard of it? That God is dead? Three.
When Zarathustra arrived at the nearest town, which adjoineth the forest,
he found many people assembled in the marketplace, for it
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had been announced that a rope dancer would give a performance.
And Zarathustra spake, thus, unto the people, I teach you
the superman man is something that is to be surpassed.
What have ye done to surpass man? All beings hitherto
have created something beyond themselves? And ye want to be
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the ebb of that great tide, and would rather go
back to the beast than surpass man. What is the
ape to man a laughing stock a thing of shame?
And just the same shall man be to the superman
a laughing stock a thing of shame. Ye have made
your way from the worm to man, and much within
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you is still worm. Once were ye apes, And even
yet man is more of an ape than any of
the apes. Even the wisest among you is only a
disharmony and hybrid of plant and phantom. But do I
bid you become phantoms or plants. Lo I teach you
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the superman. The Superman is the meaning of the earth.
Let your will say, the Superman shall be the meaning
of the earth. I conjure you, my brethren, remain true
to the earth, and believe not those who speak unto
you of super earthly hopes. Poisoners are they, whether they
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know it or not. Despisers of life are they, decaying
ones and poisoned ones themselves, of whom the earth is wary,
So away with them. Once blasphemy against God was the
greatest blasphemy. But God died, and therewith alls of those blasphemers.
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To blaspheme the earth is now the dreadfulest sin. And
to rate the heart of the unknowable higher than the
meaning of the earth. Once the soul looked contemptuously on
the body, and then that contempt was the supreme thing.
The soul wished the body meager ghastly and famished. Thus
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it thought to escape from the body and the earth. Oh,
that the soul was itself meager, ghastly and famished, and
cruelty was the delight of that soul. But ye, also,
my brethren, tell me what doth your body say about
your soul? Is your soul not poverty and pollution and
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wretched self complacency. Verily, a polluted stream is man. One
must be a sea to receive a polluted stream without
becoming impure. Lo I teach you that superman he is,
that see in him? Can your great contempt be submerged?
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What is the greatest thing you can experience? It is
the hour of great contempt, The hour in which even
your happiness becometh loathsome unto you, and so also your
reason and virtue. The hour when ye say what good
is my happiness? It is poverty and pollution and wretched
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self complacency. But my happiness should justify existence itself. The
hour when you say what good is my reason? Doth
it long for knowledge as the lion for his food?
It is poverty and pollution and wretched self complacency. The
hour when ye say what good is my virtue? And
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yet it hath not made me passionate. How weary I
am of my good and my bad? It is all
poverty and pollution and wretched self complacency. The hour when
ye say what good is my justice? I do not
see that I am fervor and fuel. The just, however,
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are fervor and fuel the hour when ye say what
good is my pity? Is not pity the cross on
which he is nailed? Who loveth man? But my pity
is not a crucifixion? Have ye ever spoken thus? Have
you ever cried thus? Ah? Would that I had heard
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you crying? Thus? It is not your sin. It is
your self satisfaction that crieth unto heaven. Your very sparingness
in sin crieth unto heaven. Where is the lightning to
lick you with its tongue? Where is the frenzy with
which ye should be inoculated? Lo I teach you the superman.
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He is that lightning, He is that frenzy. When Zarathustra
had thus spoke, one of the people called out, we
have now heard enough of the rope dancer. It is
time now for us to see him. And all the
people laughed at Zarathustra. But the rope dancer, who thought
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the words applied to him, began his performance. Four Zarathustra, however,
looked at the people and wondered. Then he spake. Thus,
man is a rope stretched between the animal and the superman,
a rope over an abyss, a dangerous crossing, a dangerous wayfaring,
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a dangerous looking back, a dangerous trembling and halting. What
is great in man is that he is a bridge
and not a goal. What is lovable in man is
that he is an overgoing and a down going. I
love those that know not how to live except as
down gooers, for they are the overgoer. I love the
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great despisers, because they are the great adorers and arrows
of longing for the other shore. I love those who
do not first seek a reason beyond the stars for
going down and being sacrifices, but sacrifice themselves to the
earth that the earth of the Superman may hereafter arrive.
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I love him who liveth in order to know, and
seeketh to know, in order that the Superman may hereafter live.
Thus seeketh he his own down gooing. I loveth him
who labereth and inventeth that he may build the house
for the Superman, and prepare for him earth, animal, and plant.
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For thus seeketh he his own down gooing. I love
him who loveth his virtue, for virtue is the will
to dowgoing and an arrow of longing. I love him
who reserveth no sh share of spirit for himself, but
wanteth to be holy the spirit of his virtue. Thus
walketh he as spirit over the bridge. I love him
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who maketh his virtue his inclination and destiny. Thus, for
the sake of his virtue, he is willing to live
on or live no more. I love him who desireth
not too many virtues. One virtue is more of a
virtue than two, because it is more of a knot
for one's destiny to cling to. I love him whose
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soul is lavish, who wanteth no thanks and doth not
give back, for he always bestoweth and desireth not to
keep for himself. I love him who is ashamed when
the dice fall in his favor, and who then asketh
am I a dishonest player? For he is willing to succumb.
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I love him who scattereth golden words in advance of
his deeds, and always doeth more than he promiseth, for
he seeketh his own down gooing. I love him who
justifieth the future ones and redeemeth the past ones, for
he is willing to succumb through the present ones. I
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love him who chasteneth his God, because he loveth his God,
for he must succumb through the wrath of his God.
I love him whose soul is deep even in the wounding,
and may succumb through a small matter. Thus goeth he
willingly over the bridge. I love him whose soul is
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so over full that he forgeteth himself, and all things
are in him. Thus all things become his downgoing. I
love him who is of a free spirit and a
free heart. Thus is his head only the bowels of
his heart. His heart, however, causeth his down gooing. I
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love all who are like heavy drops falling one by
one out of the dark cloud that lowereth over man.
They herald the coming of the lightning, and succumb as
heralds lo. I am a herald of the lightning, and
a heavy drop out of the cloud. The lightning, however,
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is the superman. Five. When Zarathustra had spoken these words.
He again looked at the people and was silent. There
they stand, said he to his heart. There they laugh,
they understand me. Not I am not the mouth for
these ears. Must one first batter their ears that they
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may learn to hear with their eyes? Must one clatter
like kettle drums and penitential preachers? Or do they only
believe this stammer? They have something whereof they are proud.
What do they call it? That which maketh them proud? Culture?
They call it it distinguisheth them from the goatherds. They dislike,
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therefore to hear of contempt of themselves. So I will
appeal to their pride. I will speak unto them of
the most contemptible thing, that, however, is the last man.
And thus spake Zarathustra unto the people. It is time
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for man to fix his goal. It is time for
man to plant the germ of his highest hope. Still
is his soil rich enough for it? But that soil
will one day be poor and exhausted, and no lofty
tree will any longer be able to grow thereon alas,
there cometh the time when man will no longer launch
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the arrow of his longing beyond man, and the string
of his bow will have unlearned to whiz. I tell
you one must still have chaos in one to give
birth to a dancing star. I tell you ye have
still chaos in you. Alas there cometh the time when
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man will no longer give birth to any star. Alas
there cometh the time of the most despicable man, who
can no longer despise himself. Lo, I show you the
last man, what is love? What is creation? What is longing?
What is a star? So asketh the last man, and
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blinketh The earth hath then become small? And on it
there hoppeth the last man, who maketh everything small. His
species is ineradicable, like that of the ground flea. The
last man liveth longest we have discovered how happiness, say
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the last men, and blink Thereby. They have left the
regions where it is hard to live, for they need warmth.
One still loveth one's neighbor, and rubbeth against him, for
one needeth warmth. Turning ill and being distrustful they consider sinful.
They walk warily. He is a fool who still stumbleth
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over stones or men. A little poison now and then
that maketh pleasant dreams and much poison at last for
a pleasant death. One still worketh, for work is a pastime,
but one is careful lest the pastime should hurt one.
One no longer becometh poor or rich. Both are too burdensome.
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Who still wanteth to rule? Who still wanteth to obey?
Both are too burdensome. No shepherd and one heard. Everyone
wanteth this. Everyone is equal. He who hath other sentiments
goeth voluntarily into the madhouse. Formerly all the world was insane,
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say the subtlest of them, and blink thereby. They are
clever and know all that hath happened, So there is
no end to their raillery. People still fall out, but
are soon reconciled. Otherwise it spoileth their stomachs. They have
their little pleasures for the day, and their little pleasures
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for the night, but they have a regard for health.
We have discovered happiness, say the last men, and blink thereby.
And here ended the first discourse of Zarathustra, which is
also called the prologue, for at this point the shouting
and mirth of the multitude interrupted him. Give us this
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last man, oh Zarathustra, they called out, make us into
these last men, then will we make thee a present
of the superman. And all the people exulted and smacked
their lips. Zarathustra, however, turned sad and said to his heart,
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they understand me not. I am not the mouth for
these ears too long? Perhaps have I lived in the
mountains too much? Have I harkened unto the brooks and trees?
Now do I speak unto them as unto the goatherds.
Calm is my soul and clear like the mountains in
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the morning. But they think me cold and a mocker
with terrible jests. And now do they look at me
and laugh? And while they laugh, they hate me too.
There is ice in their laughter. Six. Then, however, something
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happened which made every mouth mute and every eye fixed.
In the meantime, of course, the rope dancer had commenced
his performance. He had come out at a little door
and was going along the rope, which was stretched between
two towers so that it hung above the marketplace and
the people. When he was just midway across, the little
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door opened once more, and a gaudily dressed fellow like
a buffoon, sprang out and went rapidly after the first one.
Go On, halt foot, cried his frightful voice. Go on,
lazy bones, interloper, sallow face, lest I tickle thee with
my heel. What dost thou hear? Between the towers and
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the tower is the place for thee? Thou shouldst be
locked up to one better than thyself. Thou blockest the way,
And with every word he came nearer and nearer the
first one. When, however, he was but a step behind,
there happened the frightful thing, which made every mouth mute
and every eye fixed. He uttered a yell like a devil,
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and jumped over the other who was in his way.
The latter, however, when he thus saw his rival triumph
lost at the same time his head and his footing
on the rope, He threw his pole away and shot
downwards faster than it, like an eddy of arms and legs,
into the depth. The marketplace and the people were like
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the sea. When the storm cometh on. They all flew
apart and in disorder, especially where the body was about
to fall. Zarathustra, however, remained standing, and just beside him
fell the body badly injured and disfigured, but not yet dead.
After a while, consciousness returned to the shattered man, and
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he saw Zarathustra kneeling beside him. What art thou doing here?
Said he at last, I knew long ago that the
devil would trip me up. Now he draggeth me to hell.
Wilt thou prevent him? On mine honor? My friend? Answered Zarathustra,
there is nothing of all that whereof thou speakest, there
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is no devil and no hell. Thy soul will be
dead even sooner than thy body. Fear therefore nothing anymore.
The man looked up distrustfully. If thou speakest the truth,
said he, I lose nothing when I lose my life.
I am not much more than an animal which hath
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been taught to dance by blows and scanty. Fair not
at all, said Zarathustra. Thou hast made danger thy calling
therein there is nothing contemptible. Now thou perishest by thy calling.
Therefore will I bury thee with mine own hands. When
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Zarathustra had said this, the dying one did not reply further,
but he moved his hands as if he sought the
hand of Zarathustra. In gratitude. Seven. Meanwhile, the evening came on,
and the marketplace veiled itself in gloom. Then the people dispersed,
for even curiosity and terror became fatigued. Zarathustra, however, still
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sat beside the dead man on the ground, absorbed in thought.
So he forgot the time. But at last it became night,
and a cold wind blew upon the lonely one. Then
arose Zarathustra and said to his heart, verily, a fine
ketch of fish hath Zarathustra made today. It is not
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a man he hath caught, but a corpse. Somber is
human life, and as yet without meaning, a buffoon may
be faithful to it. I want to teach men the
sense of their existence, which is the superman, the lightning
out of the dark cloud man. But still am I
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far from them, and my sense speaketh not unto their sense.
To men, I am still something between a fool and
a corpse. Gloomy is the knight. Gloomy are the ways
of Zarathustra. Come thou, cold and stiff companion. I carry
thee to the place where I shall bury thee with
mine own hands. Eight. When Zarathustra had said this to
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his heart. He put the corpse upon his shoulders and
set out on his way. Yet he had not gone
a hundred steps when there stole a man up to
him and whispered in his ear. And lo he that
spake was the buffoon from the tower. Leave this town, oh,
Zarathustra said he. There are too many here who hate
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THEE the good, and just hate THEE and call THEE
their enemy and despiser The believers in the Orthodox belief
hate THEE and call THEE a danger to the multitude.
It was thy good fortune to be laughed at, And
verily thou spakest like a buffoon. It was thy good
fortune to associate with the dead dog. By so humiliating thyself,
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thou hast saved thy life. Today, depart, however, from this town,
or tomorrow, I shall jump over THEE, a living man
over a dead one. And when he had said this,
the buffoon vanished. Zarathustra, however, went on through the dark streets.
At the gate of the town, the grave diggers met him.
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They shone their torch on his face, and recognizing Zarathustra,
they sorely derided him. Zarathustra is carrying away the dead
dog a fine thing that Zarathustra hath turned a grave digger,
For our hands are too cleanly for that roast. Will
Zarathustra steal the bite from the devil? Well, then good
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luck to the repast. If only the devil is not
a better thief than zarah Ethustra, he will steal them both.
He will eat them both. And they laughed among themselves
and put their heads together. Zarathustra made no answer there too,
but went on his way. When he had gone on
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for two hours past forests and swamps, he had heard
too much of the hungry howling of the wolves, and
he himself became a hungry So he halted at a
lonely house in which the light was burning. Hunger attacketh me,
said Zarathustra, like a robber among forests and swamps. My
hunger attacketh me, And late in the night strange humors
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hath my hunger. Often it cometh to me only after
a repast, and all day it hath failed to come
where hath it been? And thereupon Zarathustra knocked at the
door of the house. An old man appeared, who carried
a light, and asked, who cometh unto me and my
bad sleep. A living man and a dead one, said Zarathustra,
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give me something to eat and drink. I forgot it
during the day. He that feedeth the hungry refresheth his
own soul saith wisdom. The old man withdrew, but came
back immediately and offered Zarathustra bread and wine. A bad
country for the hungry, said he, that is why I
live here. Animal and man come unto me, the anchorite,
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But bid thy companion eat and drink. Also, he is
warier than thou. Zarathustra answered, my companion is dead. I
shall hardly be able to persuade him to eat. That
doth not concern me, said the old man, sullenly. He
that knocketh at my door must take what I offer him,
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eat and fare ye well. Thereafter, Zarathustra again went on
for two hours, trusting to the path and the light
of the stars, for he was an experienced night walker
and liked to look into the face of all that slept.
When the morning dawned, however, Zarathustra found himself in a
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thick forest, and no path was any longer visible. He
then put the dead man in a hollow tree at
his head, for he wanted to protect him from the wolves,
and laid himself down to sleep on the ground and moss.
And immediately he fell asleep, tired in body, but with
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a tranquil soul. Nine long slept Zarathustra, and not only
the rosy dawn passed over his head, but also the morning.
At last, however, his eyes opened, and amazedly he gazed
into the forest and the stillness. Amazedly he gazed into himself.
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Then he arose quickly like a seafarer who all at
once seethed the land. And he shouted for joy, for
he saw a new truth, and he spake thus to
his heart. A light hath dawned upon me. I need companions,
living ones, not dead companions and corpses, which I carry
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with me where I will. But I need living companions
who will follow me, because they want to follow themselves,
and to the place where I will. A light hath
dawned upon me. Not to the people is Zarathustra to speak,
but to companions. Zarathustras shall not be the herd's herdsmen
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and hound to allure many from the herd. For that
purpose have I come the people and the herd must
be angry with me a robber? Shall Zarathustra be called
by the herdsman? Herdsmen, I say, but they call themselves
the good and just herdsmen, I say, but they call
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themselves the believers and the orthodox belief Behold the good
and just? Whom do they hate most? Him who breaketh
up their tables of values? The breaker, the lawbreaker? He, however,
is the creator. Behold the believers of all beliefs. Whom
do they hate most? Him who breaketh up their tables
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of values? The breaker, the law breaker? He, however, is
the Creator. Companions. The Creator seeketh not corpses, and not
herds or believers, either fellow creators. The Creator seeketh those
who grave new values on new tables. Companions, the Creator
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seeketh and fellow reapers, for everything is ripe for the
harvest with him. But he lacketh the hundred sickles, So
he plucketh the ears of corn and is vexed. Companions,
the Creator seeketh, and such as know how to wet
their sickles. Destroyers will they be called, and despisers of
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good and evil? But they are the reapers and rejoicers.
Fellow creators. Zarathustras seeketh, fellow reapers and fellow rejoicers. Zarathustras
seeketh what hath he to do with herds and herdsmen
and corpses? And thou, my first companion, rest in peace?
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Well have I buried thee in thy hollow tree? Well
have I hid thee from the wolves? But I part
from thee the time Hath arrived. TwixT rosy dawn and
rosy dawn, there came unto me a new truth. I
am not to be a herdsman. I am not to
be a grave digger. Not anymore will I discourse unto
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the people for the last time? Have I spoken unto
the dead. With the creators, the reapers, and the rejoicers.
Will I associate the rainbow? Will I show them and
all the stairs to the Superman, to the lone dweller.
Will I sing my song and to the twain dwellers,
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and unto him who hath still ears for the unheard.
While I make the heart heavy with my happiness, I
make for my goal. I follow my course over the
loitering and tardy. While I leap thus, let my ongoing
be there down going ten this had Zarathustra said to
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his heart, when the sun stood at noontide. Then he
looked inquiringly aloft, for he heard above him the sharp
call of a bird. And behold an eagle swept through
the air in wide circles, and on it hung a serpent,
not like a prey, but like a friend, for it
kept itself coiled round the eagle's neck. They are mine animals,
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said Zarathustra, and rejoiced in his heart. The proudest animal
under the sun, and the wisest animal under the sun.
They have come out to reconnoiter. They want to know
whether Zarathustras still liveth verily, do I still live? More dangerous?
Have I found it among men than among animals? In
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dangerous paths? Goeth Zarathustra. Let mine animals lead me. When
Zarathustra had said this, he remembered the words of the
saint in the forest. Then he sighed and spake thus
to his heart. Would that I were wiser, would that
I were wise from the very heart like my serpent.
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But I am asking the impossible. Therefore, do I ask
my pride to go always with my wisdom. And if
my wisdom should someday forsake me, alas it loveth to
fly away, May my pride then fly with my folly.
Thus began Zarathustra's down gooing end of Zarathustra's prolog
Thus spake Zarathustra by Friederic Nietzsche, translated by Thomas Common
Zarathustra's prolog one. When Zarathustra was thirty years old, he
left his home and the lake of his home, and
went into the mountains. There he enjoyed his spirit in solitude,
(00:24):
and for ten years did not weary of it. But
at last his heart changed, and, rising one morning with
the rosy dawn, he went before the sun and spake,
thus unto it, Thou, great star, what would be thy happiness?
If thou hadst not those for whom thou shinest for
ten years, hast thou climbed hither unto my cave, Thou
(00:46):
wouldst have wearied of thy light and of the journey,
had it not been for me, mine eagle and my serpent.
But we awaited THEE every morning, took from thee thine overflow,
and blessed THEE for it. Lo, I am weary of
my wisdom, like the bee that hath gathered too much honey.
(01:07):
I need hands outstretched to take it. I would fame, bestow,
and distribute, until the wise have once more become joyous
in their folly, and the poor happy in their riches. Therefore,
must I descend into the deep, as thou doest in
the evening, when thou goest behind the sea and givest
(01:27):
light also to the nether world, Thou exuberant star like thee,
must I go down, as men say, to whom I
shall descend. Bless me, then, thou, tranquil I, that canst
behold even the greatest happiness without envy. Bless the cup
(01:48):
that is about to overflow, that the water may flow
golden out of it and carry everywhere the reflection of
thy bliss. Lo this cup is again going to empty itself,
and Zarathustra is again going to be a man. Thus
began Zarathustra's down going Two. Zarathustra went down the mountain alone,
(02:13):
no one meeting him. When he entered the forest, however,
there suddenly stood before him an old man who had
left his holy cot to seek roots. And thus spake
the old man to Zarathustra. No stranger to me. Is
this wanderer many years ago passed he by Zarathustra, he
(02:34):
was called, but he hath altered. Then Thou carriest thine
ashes into the mountain. Wilt thou now carry thy fire
into the valleys. Fearest thou not the incendiary's doom? Yea
I recognize Zarathustra. Peer is his eye, and no loathing
lurketh about his mouth. Goeth he not along like a
(02:58):
dancer altered? Is Zarathustra. A child? Hath Zarathustra become an
awakened one? Is Zarathustra. What wilt thou do in the
land of the sleepers? As in the sea? Hast thou
lived in solitude, and it hath borne thee up alas
(03:18):
wilt thou now go ashore? Alas wilt thou again drag
thy body thyself. Zarathustra answered, I love mankind? Why said
the Saint? Did I go into the forest and the desert?
Was it not because I loved men far too well?
(03:38):
Now I love God men. I do not love man.
Is a thing too imperfect for me. Love to man
would be fatal to me. Zarathustra answered, what spake I
of love? I am bringing gifts unto men? Give them nothing,
said the Saint. Take rather part of their load and
(04:01):
carry it along with them. That will be most agreeable
unto them, if only it be agreeable unto thee. If however,
thou wilt give unto them, give them no more than
an alms, and let them also beg for it. No,
replied Zarathustra, I give no alms. I am not poor
(04:23):
enough for that. The saint laughed at Zarathustra and spake. Thus,
then see to it that they accept thy treasures. They
are distrustful of anchorites, and do not believe that we
come with gifts. The fall of our footsteps wringeth too
hollow through their streets. And just as at night when
(04:44):
they are in bed and hear a man abroad long
before sunrise, so they ask themselves concerning us, where goeth
the thief? Go not to men, but stay in the forest,
Go rather to the animals. Be like me a bear
amongst bears, a bird amongst birds. And what doeth the
(05:08):
saint in the forest, asked Zarathustra. The saint answered, I
make hymns and sing them, And in making hymns I
laugh and weep and mumble. Thus do I praise God
with singing, weeping, laughing and mumbling? Do I praise the
God who is my God? But what dost thou bring
(05:30):
us as a gift. When Zarathustra had heard these words,
he bowed to the saint and said, what should I
have to give thee? Let me rather hurry, hence lest
I take aught away from thee. And thus they parted
from one another, the old man and Zarathustra, laughing like schoolboys.
(05:51):
When Zarathustra was alone, however, he said to his heart,
could it be possible, this old saying, the forest hath
not yet heard of it? That God is dead? Three.
When Zarathustra arrived at the nearest town, which adjoineth the forest,
he found many people assembled in the marketplace, for it
(06:14):
had been announced that a rope dancer would give a performance.
And Zarathustra spake, thus, unto the people, I teach you
the superman man is something that is to be surpassed.
What have ye done to surpass man? All beings hitherto
have created something beyond themselves? And ye want to be
(06:34):
the ebb of that great tide, and would rather go
back to the beast than surpass man. What is the
ape to man a laughing stock a thing of shame?
And just the same shall man be to the superman
a laughing stock a thing of shame. Ye have made
your way from the worm to man, and much within
(06:58):
you is still worm. Once were ye apes, And even
yet man is more of an ape than any of
the apes. Even the wisest among you is only a
disharmony and hybrid of plant and phantom. But do I
bid you become phantoms or plants. Lo I teach you
(07:19):
the superman. The Superman is the meaning of the earth.
Let your will say, the Superman shall be the meaning
of the earth. I conjure you, my brethren, remain true
to the earth, and believe not those who speak unto
you of super earthly hopes. Poisoners are they, whether they
(07:41):
know it or not. Despisers of life are they, decaying
ones and poisoned ones themselves, of whom the earth is wary,
So away with them. Once blasphemy against God was the
greatest blasphemy. But God died, and therewith alls of those blasphemers.
(08:01):
To blaspheme the earth is now the dreadfulest sin. And
to rate the heart of the unknowable higher than the
meaning of the earth. Once the soul looked contemptuously on
the body, and then that contempt was the supreme thing.
The soul wished the body meager ghastly and famished. Thus
(08:24):
it thought to escape from the body and the earth. Oh,
that the soul was itself meager, ghastly and famished, and
cruelty was the delight of that soul. But ye, also,
my brethren, tell me what doth your body say about
your soul? Is your soul not poverty and pollution and
(08:46):
wretched self complacency. Verily, a polluted stream is man. One
must be a sea to receive a polluted stream without
becoming impure. Lo I teach you that superman he is,
that see in him? Can your great contempt be submerged?
(09:07):
What is the greatest thing you can experience? It is
the hour of great contempt, The hour in which even
your happiness becometh loathsome unto you, and so also your
reason and virtue. The hour when ye say what good
is my happiness? It is poverty and pollution and wretched
(09:27):
self complacency. But my happiness should justify existence itself. The
hour when you say what good is my reason? Doth
it long for knowledge as the lion for his food?
It is poverty and pollution and wretched self complacency. The
hour when ye say what good is my virtue? And
(09:48):
yet it hath not made me passionate. How weary I
am of my good and my bad? It is all
poverty and pollution and wretched self complacency. The hour when
ye say what good is my justice? I do not
see that I am fervor and fuel. The just, however,
(10:10):
are fervor and fuel the hour when ye say what
good is my pity? Is not pity the cross on
which he is nailed? Who loveth man? But my pity
is not a crucifixion? Have ye ever spoken thus? Have
you ever cried thus? Ah? Would that I had heard
(10:32):
you crying? Thus? It is not your sin. It is
your self satisfaction that crieth unto heaven. Your very sparingness
in sin crieth unto heaven. Where is the lightning to
lick you with its tongue? Where is the frenzy with
which ye should be inoculated? Lo I teach you the superman.
(10:53):
He is that lightning, He is that frenzy. When Zarathustra
had thus spoke, one of the people called out, we
have now heard enough of the rope dancer. It is
time now for us to see him. And all the
people laughed at Zarathustra. But the rope dancer, who thought
(11:14):
the words applied to him, began his performance. Four Zarathustra, however,
looked at the people and wondered. Then he spake. Thus,
man is a rope stretched between the animal and the superman,
a rope over an abyss, a dangerous crossing, a dangerous wayfaring,
(11:38):
a dangerous looking back, a dangerous trembling and halting. What
is great in man is that he is a bridge
and not a goal. What is lovable in man is
that he is an overgoing and a down going. I
love those that know not how to live except as
down gooers, for they are the overgoer. I love the
(12:01):
great despisers, because they are the great adorers and arrows
of longing for the other shore. I love those who
do not first seek a reason beyond the stars for
going down and being sacrifices, but sacrifice themselves to the
earth that the earth of the Superman may hereafter arrive.
(12:24):
I love him who liveth in order to know, and
seeketh to know, in order that the Superman may hereafter live.
Thus seeketh he his own down gooing. I loveth him
who labereth and inventeth that he may build the house
for the Superman, and prepare for him earth, animal, and plant.
(12:46):
For thus seeketh he his own down gooing. I love
him who loveth his virtue, for virtue is the will
to dowgoing and an arrow of longing. I love him
who reserveth no sh share of spirit for himself, but
wanteth to be holy the spirit of his virtue. Thus
walketh he as spirit over the bridge. I love him
(13:11):
who maketh his virtue his inclination and destiny. Thus, for
the sake of his virtue, he is willing to live
on or live no more. I love him who desireth
not too many virtues. One virtue is more of a
virtue than two, because it is more of a knot
for one's destiny to cling to. I love him whose
(13:34):
soul is lavish, who wanteth no thanks and doth not
give back, for he always bestoweth and desireth not to
keep for himself. I love him who is ashamed when
the dice fall in his favor, and who then asketh
am I a dishonest player? For he is willing to succumb.
(13:57):
I love him who scattereth golden words in advance of
his deeds, and always doeth more than he promiseth, for
he seeketh his own down gooing. I love him who
justifieth the future ones and redeemeth the past ones, for
he is willing to succumb through the present ones. I
(14:19):
love him who chasteneth his God, because he loveth his God,
for he must succumb through the wrath of his God.
I love him whose soul is deep even in the wounding,
and may succumb through a small matter. Thus goeth he
willingly over the bridge. I love him whose soul is
(14:41):
so over full that he forgeteth himself, and all things
are in him. Thus all things become his downgoing. I
love him who is of a free spirit and a
free heart. Thus is his head only the bowels of
his heart. His heart, however, causeth his down gooing. I
(15:04):
love all who are like heavy drops falling one by
one out of the dark cloud that lowereth over man.
They herald the coming of the lightning, and succumb as
heralds lo. I am a herald of the lightning, and
a heavy drop out of the cloud. The lightning, however,
(15:26):
is the superman. Five. When Zarathustra had spoken these words.
He again looked at the people and was silent. There
they stand, said he to his heart. There they laugh,
they understand me. Not I am not the mouth for
these ears. Must one first batter their ears that they
(15:50):
may learn to hear with their eyes? Must one clatter
like kettle drums and penitential preachers? Or do they only
believe this stammer? They have something whereof they are proud.
What do they call it? That which maketh them proud? Culture?
They call it it distinguisheth them from the goatherds. They dislike,
(16:14):
therefore to hear of contempt of themselves. So I will
appeal to their pride. I will speak unto them of
the most contemptible thing, that, however, is the last man.
And thus spake Zarathustra unto the people. It is time
(16:35):
for man to fix his goal. It is time for
man to plant the germ of his highest hope. Still
is his soil rich enough for it? But that soil
will one day be poor and exhausted, and no lofty
tree will any longer be able to grow thereon alas,
there cometh the time when man will no longer launch
(16:57):
the arrow of his longing beyond man, and the string
of his bow will have unlearned to whiz. I tell
you one must still have chaos in one to give
birth to a dancing star. I tell you ye have
still chaos in you. Alas there cometh the time when
(17:17):
man will no longer give birth to any star. Alas
there cometh the time of the most despicable man, who
can no longer despise himself. Lo, I show you the
last man, what is love? What is creation? What is longing?
What is a star? So asketh the last man, and
(17:40):
blinketh The earth hath then become small? And on it
there hoppeth the last man, who maketh everything small. His
species is ineradicable, like that of the ground flea. The
last man liveth longest we have discovered how happiness, say
(18:01):
the last men, and blink Thereby. They have left the
regions where it is hard to live, for they need warmth.
One still loveth one's neighbor, and rubbeth against him, for
one needeth warmth. Turning ill and being distrustful they consider sinful.
They walk warily. He is a fool who still stumbleth
(18:24):
over stones or men. A little poison now and then
that maketh pleasant dreams and much poison at last for
a pleasant death. One still worketh, for work is a pastime,
but one is careful lest the pastime should hurt one.
One no longer becometh poor or rich. Both are too burdensome.
(18:48):
Who still wanteth to rule? Who still wanteth to obey?
Both are too burdensome. No shepherd and one heard. Everyone
wanteth this. Everyone is equal. He who hath other sentiments
goeth voluntarily into the madhouse. Formerly all the world was insane,
(19:12):
say the subtlest of them, and blink thereby. They are
clever and know all that hath happened, So there is
no end to their raillery. People still fall out, but
are soon reconciled. Otherwise it spoileth their stomachs. They have
their little pleasures for the day, and their little pleasures
(19:33):
for the night, but they have a regard for health.
We have discovered happiness, say the last men, and blink thereby.
And here ended the first discourse of Zarathustra, which is
also called the prologue, for at this point the shouting
and mirth of the multitude interrupted him. Give us this
(19:56):
last man, oh Zarathustra, they called out, make us into
these last men, then will we make thee a present
of the superman. And all the people exulted and smacked
their lips. Zarathustra, however, turned sad and said to his heart,
(20:17):
they understand me not. I am not the mouth for
these ears too long? Perhaps have I lived in the
mountains too much? Have I harkened unto the brooks and trees?
Now do I speak unto them as unto the goatherds.
Calm is my soul and clear like the mountains in
(20:38):
the morning. But they think me cold and a mocker
with terrible jests. And now do they look at me
and laugh? And while they laugh, they hate me too.
There is ice in their laughter. Six. Then, however, something
(21:00):
happened which made every mouth mute and every eye fixed.
In the meantime, of course, the rope dancer had commenced
his performance. He had come out at a little door
and was going along the rope, which was stretched between
two towers so that it hung above the marketplace and
the people. When he was just midway across, the little
(21:22):
door opened once more, and a gaudily dressed fellow like
a buffoon, sprang out and went rapidly after the first one.
Go On, halt foot, cried his frightful voice. Go on,
lazy bones, interloper, sallow face, lest I tickle thee with
my heel. What dost thou hear? Between the towers and
(21:44):
the tower is the place for thee? Thou shouldst be
locked up to one better than thyself. Thou blockest the way,
And with every word he came nearer and nearer the
first one. When, however, he was but a step behind,
there happened the frightful thing, which made every mouth mute
and every eye fixed. He uttered a yell like a devil,
(22:06):
and jumped over the other who was in his way.
The latter, however, when he thus saw his rival triumph
lost at the same time his head and his footing
on the rope, He threw his pole away and shot
downwards faster than it, like an eddy of arms and legs,
into the depth. The marketplace and the people were like
(22:29):
the sea. When the storm cometh on. They all flew
apart and in disorder, especially where the body was about
to fall. Zarathustra, however, remained standing, and just beside him
fell the body badly injured and disfigured, but not yet dead.
After a while, consciousness returned to the shattered man, and
(22:51):
he saw Zarathustra kneeling beside him. What art thou doing here?
Said he at last, I knew long ago that the
devil would trip me up. Now he draggeth me to hell.
Wilt thou prevent him? On mine honor? My friend? Answered Zarathustra,
there is nothing of all that whereof thou speakest, there
(23:12):
is no devil and no hell. Thy soul will be
dead even sooner than thy body. Fear therefore nothing anymore.
The man looked up distrustfully. If thou speakest the truth,
said he, I lose nothing when I lose my life.
I am not much more than an animal which hath
(23:33):
been taught to dance by blows and scanty. Fair not
at all, said Zarathustra. Thou hast made danger thy calling
therein there is nothing contemptible. Now thou perishest by thy calling.
Therefore will I bury thee with mine own hands. When
(23:54):
Zarathustra had said this, the dying one did not reply further,
but he moved his hands as if he sought the
hand of Zarathustra. In gratitude. Seven. Meanwhile, the evening came on,
and the marketplace veiled itself in gloom. Then the people dispersed,
for even curiosity and terror became fatigued. Zarathustra, however, still
(24:19):
sat beside the dead man on the ground, absorbed in thought.
So he forgot the time. But at last it became night,
and a cold wind blew upon the lonely one. Then
arose Zarathustra and said to his heart, verily, a fine
ketch of fish hath Zarathustra made today. It is not
(24:41):
a man he hath caught, but a corpse. Somber is
human life, and as yet without meaning, a buffoon may
be faithful to it. I want to teach men the
sense of their existence, which is the superman, the lightning
out of the dark cloud man. But still am I
(25:03):
far from them, and my sense speaketh not unto their sense.
To men, I am still something between a fool and
a corpse. Gloomy is the knight. Gloomy are the ways
of Zarathustra. Come thou, cold and stiff companion. I carry
thee to the place where I shall bury thee with
mine own hands. Eight. When Zarathustra had said this to
(25:27):
his heart. He put the corpse upon his shoulders and
set out on his way. Yet he had not gone
a hundred steps when there stole a man up to
him and whispered in his ear. And lo he that
spake was the buffoon from the tower. Leave this town, oh,
Zarathustra said he. There are too many here who hate
(25:48):
THEE the good, and just hate THEE and call THEE
their enemy and despiser The believers in the Orthodox belief
hate THEE and call THEE a danger to the multitude.
It was thy good fortune to be laughed at, And
verily thou spakest like a buffoon. It was thy good
fortune to associate with the dead dog. By so humiliating thyself,
(26:11):
thou hast saved thy life. Today, depart, however, from this town,
or tomorrow, I shall jump over THEE, a living man
over a dead one. And when he had said this,
the buffoon vanished. Zarathustra, however, went on through the dark streets.
At the gate of the town, the grave diggers met him.
(26:34):
They shone their torch on his face, and recognizing Zarathustra,
they sorely derided him. Zarathustra is carrying away the dead
dog a fine thing that Zarathustra hath turned a grave digger,
For our hands are too cleanly for that roast. Will
Zarathustra steal the bite from the devil? Well, then good
(26:55):
luck to the repast. If only the devil is not
a better thief than zarah Ethustra, he will steal them both.
He will eat them both. And they laughed among themselves
and put their heads together. Zarathustra made no answer there too,
but went on his way. When he had gone on
(27:15):
for two hours past forests and swamps, he had heard
too much of the hungry howling of the wolves, and
he himself became a hungry So he halted at a
lonely house in which the light was burning. Hunger attacketh me,
said Zarathustra, like a robber among forests and swamps. My
hunger attacketh me, And late in the night strange humors
(27:40):
hath my hunger. Often it cometh to me only after
a repast, and all day it hath failed to come
where hath it been? And thereupon Zarathustra knocked at the
door of the house. An old man appeared, who carried
a light, and asked, who cometh unto me and my
bad sleep. A living man and a dead one, said Zarathustra,
(28:05):
give me something to eat and drink. I forgot it
during the day. He that feedeth the hungry refresheth his
own soul saith wisdom. The old man withdrew, but came
back immediately and offered Zarathustra bread and wine. A bad
country for the hungry, said he, that is why I
live here. Animal and man come unto me, the anchorite,
(28:29):
But bid thy companion eat and drink. Also, he is
warier than thou. Zarathustra answered, my companion is dead. I
shall hardly be able to persuade him to eat. That
doth not concern me, said the old man, sullenly. He
that knocketh at my door must take what I offer him,
(28:49):
eat and fare ye well. Thereafter, Zarathustra again went on
for two hours, trusting to the path and the light
of the stars, for he was an experienced night walker
and liked to look into the face of all that slept.
When the morning dawned, however, Zarathustra found himself in a
(29:11):
thick forest, and no path was any longer visible. He
then put the dead man in a hollow tree at
his head, for he wanted to protect him from the wolves,
and laid himself down to sleep on the ground and moss.
And immediately he fell asleep, tired in body, but with
(29:32):
a tranquil soul. Nine long slept Zarathustra, and not only
the rosy dawn passed over his head, but also the morning.
At last, however, his eyes opened, and amazedly he gazed
into the forest and the stillness. Amazedly he gazed into himself.
(29:55):
Then he arose quickly like a seafarer who all at
once seethed the land. And he shouted for joy, for
he saw a new truth, and he spake thus to
his heart. A light hath dawned upon me. I need companions,
living ones, not dead companions and corpses, which I carry
(30:15):
with me where I will. But I need living companions
who will follow me, because they want to follow themselves,
and to the place where I will. A light hath
dawned upon me. Not to the people is Zarathustra to speak,
but to companions. Zarathustras shall not be the herd's herdsmen
(30:36):
and hound to allure many from the herd. For that
purpose have I come the people and the herd must
be angry with me a robber? Shall Zarathustra be called
by the herdsman? Herdsmen, I say, but they call themselves
the good and just herdsmen, I say, but they call
(30:57):
themselves the believers and the orthodox belief Behold the good
and just? Whom do they hate most? Him who breaketh
up their tables of values? The breaker, the lawbreaker? He, however,
is the creator. Behold the believers of all beliefs. Whom
do they hate most? Him who breaketh up their tables
(31:19):
of values? The breaker, the law breaker? He, however, is
the Creator. Companions. The Creator seeketh not corpses, and not
herds or believers, either fellow creators. The Creator seeketh those
who grave new values on new tables. Companions, the Creator
(31:41):
seeketh and fellow reapers, for everything is ripe for the
harvest with him. But he lacketh the hundred sickles, So
he plucketh the ears of corn and is vexed. Companions,
the Creator seeketh, and such as know how to wet
their sickles. Destroyers will they be called, and despisers of
(32:03):
good and evil? But they are the reapers and rejoicers.
Fellow creators. Zarathustras seeketh, fellow reapers and fellow rejoicers. Zarathustras
seeketh what hath he to do with herds and herdsmen
and corpses? And thou, my first companion, rest in peace?
(32:26):
Well have I buried thee in thy hollow tree? Well
have I hid thee from the wolves? But I part
from thee the time Hath arrived. TwixT rosy dawn and
rosy dawn, there came unto me a new truth. I
am not to be a herdsman. I am not to
be a grave digger. Not anymore will I discourse unto
(32:48):
the people for the last time? Have I spoken unto
the dead. With the creators, the reapers, and the rejoicers.
Will I associate the rainbow? Will I show them and
all the stairs to the Superman, to the lone dweller.
Will I sing my song and to the twain dwellers,
(33:10):
and unto him who hath still ears for the unheard.
While I make the heart heavy with my happiness, I
make for my goal. I follow my course over the
loitering and tardy. While I leap thus, let my ongoing
be there down going ten this had Zarathustra said to
(33:32):
his heart, when the sun stood at noontide. Then he
looked inquiringly aloft, for he heard above him the sharp
call of a bird. And behold an eagle swept through
the air in wide circles, and on it hung a serpent,
not like a prey, but like a friend, for it
kept itself coiled round the eagle's neck. They are mine animals,
(33:57):
said Zarathustra, and rejoiced in his heart. The proudest animal
under the sun, and the wisest animal under the sun.
They have come out to reconnoiter. They want to know
whether Zarathustras still liveth verily, do I still live? More dangerous?
Have I found it among men than among animals? In
(34:21):
dangerous paths? Goeth Zarathustra. Let mine animals lead me. When
Zarathustra had said this, he remembered the words of the
saint in the forest. Then he sighed and spake thus
to his heart. Would that I were wiser, would that
I were wise from the very heart like my serpent.
(34:42):
But I am asking the impossible. Therefore, do I ask
my pride to go always with my wisdom. And if
my wisdom should someday forsake me, alas it loveth to
fly away, May my pride then fly with my folly.
Thus began Zarathustra's down gooing end of Zarathustra's prolog
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Does hearing about a true crime case always leave you scouring the internet for the truth behind the story? Dive into your next mystery with Crime Junkie. Every Monday, join your host Ashley Flowers as she unravels all the details of infamous and underreported true crime cases with her best friend Brit Prawat. From cold cases to missing persons and heroes in our community who seek justice, Crime Junkie is your destination for theories and stories you won’t hear anywhere else. Whether you're a seasoned true crime enthusiast or new to the genre, you'll find yourself on the edge of your seat awaiting a new episode every Monday. If you can never get enough true crime... Congratulations, you’ve found your people. Follow to join a community of Crime Junkies! Crime Junkie is presented by audiochuck Media Company.
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