--- title: "Thus Spake Zarathustra" author: "Friedrich Nietzsche" translator: "Thomas Common" languages: [en] shelf: "Philosophy" section: 16 of 95 url: https://scriptura.si/works/nietzsche-zarathustra/16/ cite: "Friedrich Nietzsche, tr. Thomas Common, Thus Spake Zarathustra, section 16. Scriptura (scriptura.si), https://scriptura.si/works/nietzsche-zarathustra/16/" --- # Thus Spake Zarathustra *Friedrich Nietzsche, tr. Thomas Common* A prophet comes down from his mountain to teach the overman, in sermons and songs. ## 16. XII. The Flies in the Market-Place Source: https://scriptura.si/works/nietzsche-zarathustra/16/ · cite a paragraph as https://scriptura.si/works/nietzsche-zarathustra/16/#p-N [¶0] Flee, my friend, into thy solitude! I see thee deafened with the noise of the great men, and stung all over with the stings of the little ones. [¶1] Admirably do forest and rock know how to be silent with thee. Resemble again the tree which thou lovest, the broad-branched one—silently and attentively it o’erhangeth the sea. [¶2] Where solitude endeth, there beginneth the market-place; and where the market-place beginneth, there beginneth also the noise of the great actors, and the buzzing of the poison-flies. [¶3] In the world even the best things are worthless without those who represent them: those representers, the people call great men. [¶4] Little do the people understand what is great—that is to say, the creating agency. But they have a taste for all representers and actors of great things. [¶5] Around the devisers of new values revolveth the world:—invisibly it revolveth. But around the actors revolve the people and the glory: such is the course of things. [¶6] Spirit, hath the actor, but little conscience of the spirit. He believeth always in that wherewith he maketh believe most strongly—in HIMSELF! [¶7] To-morrow he hath a new belief, and the day after, one still newer. Sharp perceptions hath he, like the people, and changeable humours. [¶8] To upset—that meaneth with him to prove. To drive mad—that meaneth with him to convince. And blood is counted by him as the best of all arguments. [¶9] A truth which only glideth into fine ears, he calleth falsehood and trumpery. Verily, he believeth only in Gods that make a great noise in the world! [¶10] Full of clattering buffoons is the market-place,—and the people glory in their great men! These are for them the masters of the hour. [¶11] But the hour presseth them; so they press thee. And also from thee they want Yea or Nay. Alas! thou wouldst set thy chair betwixt For and Against? [¶12] On account of those absolute and impatient ones, be not jealous, thou lover of truth! Never yet did truth cling to the arm of an absolute one. [¶13] On account of those abrupt ones, return into thy security: only in the market-place is one assailed by Yea? or Nay? [¶14] Slow is the experience of all deep fountains: long have they to wait until they know WHAT hath fallen into their depths. [¶15] Away from the market-place and from fame taketh place all that is great: away from the market-place and from fame have ever dwelt the devisers of new values. [¶16] Flee, my friend, into thy solitude: I see thee stung all over by the poisonous flies. Flee thither, where a rough, strong breeze bloweth! [¶17] Flee into thy solitude! Thou hast lived too closely to the small and the pitiable. Flee from their invisible vengeance! Towards thee they have nothing but vengeance. [¶18] Raise no longer an arm against them! Innumerable are they, and it is not thy lot to be a fly-flap. [¶19] Innumerable are the small and pitiable ones; and of many a proud structure, rain-drops and weeds have been the ruin. [¶20] Thou art not stone; but already hast thou become hollow by the numerous drops. Thou wilt yet break and burst by the numerous drops. [¶21] Exhausted I see thee, by poisonous flies; bleeding I see thee, and torn at a hundred spots; and thy pride will not even upbraid. [¶22] Blood they would have from thee in all innocence; blood their bloodless souls crave for—and they sting, therefore, in all innocence. [¶23] But thou, profound one, thou sufferest too profoundly even from small wounds; and ere thou hadst recovered, the same poison-worm crawled over thy hand. [¶24] Too proud art thou to kill these sweet-tooths. But take care lest it be thy fate to suffer all their poisonous injustice! [¶25] They buzz around thee also with their praise: obtrusiveness, is their praise. They want to be close to thy skin and thy blood. [¶26] They flatter thee, as one flattereth a God or devil; they whimper before thee, as before a God or devil. What doth it come to! Flatterers are they, and whimperers, and nothing more. [¶27] Often, also, do they show themselves to thee as amiable ones. But that hath ever been the prudence of the cowardly. Yea! the cowardly are wise! [¶28] They think much about thee with their circumscribed souls—thou art always suspected by them! Whatever is much thought about is at last thought suspicious. [¶29] They punish thee for all thy virtues. They pardon thee in their inmost hearts only—for thine errors. [¶30] Because thou art gentle and of upright character, thou sayest: “Blameless are they for their small existence.” But their circumscribed souls think: “Blamable is all great existence.” [¶31] Even when thou art gentle towards them, they still feel themselves despised by thee; and they repay thy beneficence with secret maleficence. [¶32] Thy silent pride is always counter to their taste; they rejoice if once thou be humble enough to be frivolous. [¶33] What we recognise in a man, we also irritate in him. Therefore be on your guard against the small ones! [¶34] In thy presence they feel themselves small, and their baseness gleameth and gloweth against thee in invisible vengeance. [¶35] Sawest thou not how often they became dumb when thou approachedst them, and how their energy left them like the smoke of an extinguishing fire? [¶36] Yea, my friend, the bad conscience art thou of thy neighbours; for they are unworthy of thee. Therefore they hate thee, and would fain suck thy blood. [¶37] Thy neighbours will always be poisonous flies; what is great in thee—that itself must make them more poisonous, and always more fly-like. [¶38] Flee, my friend, into thy solitude—and thither, where a rough strong breeze bloweth. It is not thy lot to be a fly-flap.— [¶39] Thus spake Zarathustra.