SECOND PART.
41. XLI. THE SOOTHSAYER. (continued)
Now will children's laughter ever from coffins flow; now will a strong wind
ever come victoriously unto all mortal weariness: of this thou art thyself
the pledge and the prophet!
Verily, THEY THEMSELVES DIDST THOU DREAM, thine enemies: that was thy
sorest dream.
But as thou awokest from them and camest to thyself, so shall they awaken
from themselves--and come unto thee!"
Thus spake the disciple; and all the others then thronged around
Zarathustra, grasped him by the hands, and tried to persuade him to leave
his bed and his sadness, and return unto them. Zarathustra, however, sat
upright on his couch, with an absent look. Like one returning from long
foreign sojourn did he look on his disciples, and examined their features;
but still he knew them not. When, however, they raised him, and set him
upon his feet, behold, all on a sudden his eye changed; he understood
everything that had happened, stroked his beard, and said with a strong
voice:
"Well! this hath just its time; but see to it, my disciples, that we have a
good repast; and without delay! Thus do I mean to make amends for bad
dreams!
The soothsayer, however, shall eat and drink at my side: and verily, I
will yet show him a sea in which he can drown himself!"--
Thus spake Zarathustra. Then did he gaze long into the face of the
disciple who had been the dream-interpreter, and shook his head.--
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