1891

                             THUS SPAKE ZARATHUSTRA

                             by Friedrich Nietzsche

                          translated by Thomas Common
PROLOGUE

                  Zarathustra's Prologue

                            1.

  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 and his solitude, 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 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; I need hands outstretched to take it.

  I would fain 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 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 eye, that canst behold even the
greatest happiness without envy!

  Bless the cup 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.

                            2.

  Zarathustra went down the mountain alone, 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 was called; but he hath altered.

  Then thou carriedst thine ashes into the mountains: wilt thou now
carry thy fire into the valleys? Fearest thou not the incendiary's
doom?

  Yea, I recognize Zarathustra. Pure is his eye, and no loathing
lurketh about his mouth. Goeth he not along like a 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, 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?

  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 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 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.