LIV. THE THREE EVIL THINGS.
In my dream, in my last morning-dream, I stood to-day on a promontory-- beyond the world; I held a pair of scales, and WEIGHED the world.
Alas, that the rosy dawn came too early to me: she glowed me awake, the jealous one! Jealous is she always of the glows of my morning-dream.
Measurable by him who hath time, weighable by a good weigher, attainable by strong pinions, divinable by divine nut-crackers: thus did my dream find the world:--
My dream, a bold sailor, half-ship, half-hurricane, silent as the butterfly, impatient as the falcon: how had it the patience and leisure to-day for world-weighing!
Did my wisdom perhaps speak secretly to it, my laughing, wide-awake day- wisdom, which mocketh at all "infinite worlds"? For it saith: "Where force is, there becometh NUMBER the master: it hath more force."
How confidently did my dream contemplate this finite world, not new- fangledly, not old-fangledly, not timidly, not entreatingly:--
--As if a big round apple presented itself to my hand, a ripe golden apple, with a coolly-soft, velvety skin:--thus did the world present itself unto me:--
--As if a tree nodded unto me, a broad-branched, strong-willed tree, curved as a recline and a foot-stool for weary travellers: thus did the world stand on my promontory:--
--As if delicate hands carried a casket towards me--a casket open for the delectation of modest adoring eyes: thus did the world present itself before me to-day:--
--Not riddle enough to scare human love from it, not solution enough to put to sleep human wisdom:--a humanly good thing was the world to me to-day, of which such bad things are said!
How I thank my morning-dream that I thus at to-day's dawn, weighed the world! As a humanly good thing did it come unto me, this dream and heart- comforter!
And that I may do the like by day, and imitate and copy its best, now will I put the three worst things on the scales, and weigh them humanly well.--
He who taught to bless taught also to curse: what are the three best cursed things in the world? These will I put on the scales.
VOLUPTUOUSNESS, PASSION FOR POWER, and SELFISHNESS: these three things have hitherto been best cursed, and have been in worst and falsest repute-- these three things will I weigh humanly well.
Well! Here is my promontory, and there is the sea--IT rolleth hither unto me, shaggily and fawningly, the old, faithful, hundred-headed dog-monster that I love!--
Well! Here will I hold the scales over the weltering sea: and also a witness do I choose to look on--thee, the anchorite-tree, thee, the strong- odoured, broad-arched tree that I love!--
On what bridge goeth the now to the hereafter? By what constraint doth the high stoop to the low? And what enjoineth even the highest still--to grow upwards?--
Now stand the scales poised and at rest: three heavy questions have I thrown in; three heavy answers carrieth the other scale.
--To many that are more unknown to each other than man and woman:--and who hath fully understood HOW UNKNOWN to each other are man and woman!
Voluptuousness:--but I will have hedges around my thoughts, and even around my words, lest swine and libertine should break into my gardens!--
That the lonesome height may not for ever remain lonesome and self- sufficing; that the mountains may come to the valleys and the winds of the heights to the plains:--
Oh, who could find the right prenomen and honouring name for such longing! "Bestowing virtue"--thus did Zarathustra once name the unnamable.
And then it happened also,--and verily, it happened for the first time!-- that his word blessed SELFISHNESS, the wholesome, healthy selfishness, that springeth from the powerful soul:--
--From the powerful soul, to which the high body appertaineth, the handsome, triumphing, refreshing body, around which everything becometh a mirror:
--The pliant, persuasive body, the dancer, whose symbol and epitome is the self-enjoying soul. Of such bodies and souls the self-enjoyment calleth itself "virtue."
With its words of good and bad doth such self-enjoyment shelter itself as with sacred groves; with the names of its happiness doth it banish from itself everything contemptible.
Away from itself doth it banish everything cowardly; it saith: "Bad--THAT IS cowardly!" Contemptible seem to it the ever-solicitous, the sighing, the complaining, and whoever pick up the most trifling advantage.
It despiseth also all bitter-sweet wisdom: for verily, there is also wisdom that bloometh in the dark, a night-shade wisdom, which ever sigheth: "All is vain!"
Shy distrust is regarded by it as base, and every one who wanteth oaths instead of looks and hands: also all over-distrustful wisdom,--for such is the mode of cowardly souls.
Baser still it regardeth the obsequious, doggish one, who immediately lieth on his back, the submissive one; and there is also wisdom that is submissive, and doggish, and pious, and obsequious.
Hateful to it altogether, and a loathing, is he who will never defend himself, he who swalloweth down poisonous spittle and bad looks, the all- too-patient one, the all-endurer, the all-satisfied one: for that is the mode of slaves.
Whether they be servile before Gods and divine spurnings, or before men and stupid human opinions: at ALL kinds of slaves doth it spit, this blessed selfishness!
And spurious wisdom: so doth it call all the wit that slaves, and hoary- headed and weary ones affect; and especially all the cunning, spurious- witted, curious-witted foolishness of priests!
The spurious wise, however, all the priests, the world-weary, and those whose souls are of feminine and servile nature--oh, how hath their game all along abused selfishness!
And precisely THAT was to be virtue and was to be called virtue--to abuse selfishness! And "selfless"--so did they wish themselves with good reason, all those world-weary cowards and cross-spiders!
But to all those cometh now the day, the change, the sword of judgment, THE GREAT NOONTIDE: then shall many things be revealed!
And he who proclaimeth the EGO wholesome and holy, and selfishness blessed, verily, he, the prognosticator, speaketh also what he knoweth: "BEHOLD, IT COMETH, IT IS NIGH, THE GREAT NOONTIDE!"
Thus spake Zarathustra.