Thus Spake Zarathustra Friedrich Nietzsche (best thriller novels of all time .txt) 📖

Thus spake Zarathustra, and his eyes sparkled. But the old magician kept silence for a while; then said he: “Did I put thee to the test? I⁠—seek only.

“O Zarathustra, I seek a genuine one, a right one, a simple one, an unequivocal one, a man of perfect honesty, a vessel of wisdom, a saint of knowledge, a great man!

“Knowest thou it not, O Zarathustra? I seek Zarathustra.”

—And here there arose a long silence between them: Zarathustra, however, became profoundly absorbed in thought, so that he shut his eyes. But afterwards coming back to the situation, he grasped the hand of the magician, and said, full of politeness and policy:

“Well! Up thither leadeth the way, there is the cave of Zarathustra. In it mayest thou seek him whom thou wouldst fain find.

“And ask counsel of mine animals, mine eagle and my serpent: they shall help thee to seek. My cave however is large.

“I myself, to be sure⁠—I have as yet seen no great man. That which is great, the acutest eye is at present insensible to it. It is the kingdom of the populace.

“Many a one have I found who stretched and inflated himself, and the people cried: ‘Behold; a great man!’ But what good do all bellows do! The wind cometh out at last.

“At last bursteth the frog which hath inflated itself too long: then cometh out the wind. To prick a swollen one in the belly, I call good pastime. Hear that, ye boys!

“Our today is of the populace: who still knoweth what is great and what is small! Who could there seek successfully for greatness! A fool only: it succeedeth with fools.

“Thou seekest for great men, thou strange fool? Who taught that to thee? Is today the time for it? Oh, thou bad seeker, why dost thou⁠—tempt me?”⁠⸺

Thus spake Zarathustra, comforted in his heart, and went laughing on his way.

Not long, however, after Zarathustra had freed himself from the magician, he again saw a person sitting beside the path which he followed, namely a tall, black man, with a haggard, pale countenance: this man grieved him exceedingly. “Alas,” said he to his heart, “there sitteth disguised affliction; methinketh he is of the type of the priests: what do they want in my domain?

“What! Hardly have I escaped from that magician, and must another necromancer again run across my path⁠—

“⁠—Some sorcerer with laying-on-of-hands, some sombre wonder-worker by the grace of God, some anointed world-maligner, whom, may the devil take!

“But the devil is never at the place which would be his right place: he always cometh too late, that cursed dwarf and clubfoot!”⁠—

Thus cursed Zarathustra impatiently in his heart, and considered how with averted look he might slip past the black man. But behold, it came about otherwise. For at the same moment had the sitting one already perceived him; and not unlike one whom an unexpected happiness overtaketh, he sprang to his feet, and went straight towards Zarathustra.

“Whoever thou art, thou traveller,” said he, “help a strayed one, a seeker, an old man, who may here easily come to grief!

“The world here is strange to me, and remote; wild beasts also did I hear howling; and he who could have given me protection⁠—he is himself no more.

“I was seeking the pious man, a saint and an anchorite, who, alone in his forest, had not yet heard of what all the world knoweth at present.”

“What doth all the world know at present?” asked Zarathustra. “Perhaps that the old God no longer liveth, in whom all the world once believed?”

“Thou sayest it,” answered the old man sorrowfully. “And I served that old God until his last hour.

“Now, however, am I out of service, without master, and yet not free; likewise am I no longer merry even for an hour, except it be in recollections.

“Therefore did I ascend into these mountains, that I might finally have a festival for myself once more, as becometh an old pope and church-father: for know it, that I am the last pope!⁠—a festival of pious recollections and divine services.

“Now, however, is he himself dead, the most pious of men, the saint in the forest, who praised his God constantly with singing and mumbling.

“He himself found I no longer when I found his cot⁠—but two wolves found I therein, which howled on account of his death⁠—for all animals loved him. Then did I haste away.

“Had I thus come in vain into these forests and mountains? Then did my heart determine that I should seek another, the most pious of all those who believe not in God⁠—, my heart determined that I should seek Zarathustra!”

Thus spake the hoary man, and gazed with keen eyes at him who stood before him. Zarathustra however seized the hand of the old pope and regarded it a long while with admiration.

“Lo! thou venerable one,” said he then, “what a fine and long hand! That is the hand of one who hath ever dispensed blessings. Now, however, doth it hold fast him whom thou seekest, me, Zarathustra.

“It is I, the ungodly Zarathustra, who saith: ‘Who is ungodlier than I, that I may enjoy his teaching?’ ”⁠—

Thus spake Zarathustra, and penetrated with his glances the thoughts and arrear-thoughts of the old pope. At last the latter began:

“He who most loved and possessed him hath now also lost him most⁠—:

“⁠—Lo, I myself am surely the most godless of us at present? But who could rejoice at that!”⁠—

—“Thou servedst him to the last?” asked Zarathustra thoughtfully, after a deep silence, “thou knowest how he died? Is it true what they say, that sympathy choked him;

“⁠—That he saw how man hung on the cross, and could not endure it;⁠—that his love to man became his hell, and at last his death?”⁠⸺

The old pope however did not answer, but looked aside timidly, with a painful and gloomy expression.

“Let him go,” said Zarathustra, after prolonged meditation, still looking the old man straight in the eye.

“Let him go, he is