--- title: "Thus Spake Zarathustra" author: "Friedrich Nietzsche" translator: "Thomas Common" languages: [en] shelf: "Philosophy" section: 47 of 95 url: https://scriptura.si/works/nietzsche-zarathustra/47/ cite: "Friedrich Nietzsche, tr. Thomas Common, Thus Spake Zarathustra, section 47. Scriptura (scriptura.si), https://scriptura.si/works/nietzsche-zarathustra/47/" --- # Thus Spake Zarathustra *Friedrich Nietzsche, tr. Thomas Common* A prophet comes down from his mountain to teach the overman, in sermons and songs. ## 47. XLIII. Manly Prudence Source: https://scriptura.si/works/nietzsche-zarathustra/47/ · cite a paragraph as https://scriptura.si/works/nietzsche-zarathustra/47/#p-N [¶0] Not the height, it is the declivity that is terrible! [¶1] The declivity, where the gaze shooteth DOWNWARDS, and the hand graspeth UPWARDS. There doth the heart become giddy through its double will. [¶2] Ah, friends, do ye divine also my heart’s double will? [¶3] This, this is MY declivity and my danger, that my gaze shooteth towards the summit, and my hand would fain clutch and lean—on the depth! [¶4] To man clingeth my will; with chains do I bind myself to man, because I am pulled upwards to the Superman: for thither doth mine other will tend. [¶5] And THEREFORE do I live blindly among men, as if I knew them not: that my hand may not entirely lose belief in firmness. [¶6] I know not you men: this gloom and consolation is often spread around me. [¶7] I sit at the gateway for every rogue, and ask: Who wisheth to deceive me? [¶8] This is my first manly prudence, that I allow myself to be deceived, so as not to be on my guard against deceivers. [¶9] Ah, if I were on my guard against man, how could man be an anchor to my ball! Too easily would I be pulled upwards and away! [¶10] This providence is over my fate, that I have to be without foresight. [¶11] And he who would not languish amongst men, must learn to drink out of all glasses; and he who would keep clean amongst men, must know how to wash himself even with dirty water. [¶12] And thus spake I often to myself for consolation: “Courage! Cheer up! old heart! An unhappiness hath failed to befall thee: enjoy that as thy—happiness!” [¶13] This, however, is mine other manly prudence: I am more forbearing to the VAIN than to the proud. [¶14] Is not wounded vanity the mother of all tragedies? Where, however, pride is wounded, there groweth up something better than pride. [¶15] That life may be fair to behold, its game must be well played; for that purpose, however, it needeth good actors. [¶16] Good actors have I found all the vain ones: they play, and wish people to be fond of beholding them—all their spirit is in this wish. [¶17] They represent themselves, they invent themselves; in their neighbourhood I like to look upon life—it cureth of melancholy. [¶18] Therefore am I forbearing to the vain, because they are the physicians of my melancholy, and keep me attached to man as to a drama. [¶19] And further, who conceiveth the full depth of the modesty of the vain man! I am favourable to him, and sympathetic on account of his modesty. [¶20] From you would he learn his belief in himself; he feedeth upon your glances, he eateth praise out of your hands. [¶21] Your lies doth he even believe when you lie favourably about him: for in its depths sigheth his heart: “What am I?” [¶22] And if that be the true virtue which is unconscious of itself—well, the vain man is unconscious of his modesty!— [¶23] This is, however, my third manly prudence: I am not put out of conceit with the WICKED by your timorousness. [¶24] I am happy to see the marvels the warm sun hatcheth: tigers and palms and rattle-snakes. [¶25] Also amongst men there is a beautiful brood of the warm sun, and much that is marvellous in the wicked. [¶26] In truth, as your wisest did not seem to me so very wise, so found I also human wickedness below the fame of it. [¶27] And oft did I ask with a shake of the head: Why still rattle, ye rattle-snakes? [¶28] Verily, there is still a future even for evil! And the warmest south is still undiscovered by man. [¶29] How many things are now called the worst wickedness, which are only twelve feet broad and three months long! Some day, however, will greater dragons come into the world. [¶30] For that the Superman may not lack his dragon, the superdragon that is worthy of him, there must still much warm sun glow on moist virgin forests! [¶31] Out of your wild cats must tigers have evolved, and out of your poison-toads, crocodiles: for the good hunter shall have a good hunt! [¶32] And verily, ye good and just! In you there is much to be laughed at, and especially your fear of what hath hitherto been called “the devil!” [¶33] So alien are ye in your souls to what is great, that to you the Superman would be FRIGHTFUL in his goodness! [¶34] And ye wise and knowing ones, ye would flee from the solar-glow of the wisdom in which the Superman joyfully batheth his nakedness! [¶35] Ye highest men who have come within my ken! this is my doubt of you, and my secret laughter: I suspect ye would call my Superman—a devil! [¶36] Ah, I became tired of those highest and best ones: from their “height” did I long to be up, out, and away to the Superman! [¶37] A horror came over me when I saw those best ones naked: then there grew for me the pinions to soar away into distant futures. [¶38] Into more distant futures, into more southern souths than ever artist dreamed of: thither, where Gods are ashamed of all clothes! [¶39] But disguised do I want to see YOU, ye neighbours and fellowmen, and well-attired and vain and estimable, as “the good and just;”— [¶40] And disguised will I myself sit amongst you—that I may MISTAKE you and myself: for that is my last manly prudence.— [¶41] Thus spake Zarathustra.