FOURTH AND LAST PART.
78. LXXVIII. THE ASS-FESTIVAL. (continued)
--"And thou," said Zarathustra, "thou bad old magician, what didst thou do!
Who ought to believe any longer in thee in this free age, when THOU
believest in such divine donkeyism?
It was a stupid thing that thou didst; how couldst thou, a shrewd man, do
such a stupid thing!"
"O Zarathustra," answered the shrewd magician, "thou art right, it was a
stupid thing,--it was also repugnant to me."
--"And thou even," said Zarathustra to the spiritually conscientious one,
"consider, and put thy finger to thy nose! Doth nothing go against thy
conscience here? Is thy spirit not too cleanly for this praying and the
fumes of those devotees?"
"There is something therein," said the spiritually conscientious one, and
put his finger to his nose, "there is something in this spectacle which
even doeth good to my conscience.
Perhaps I dare not believe in God: certain it is however, that God seemeth
to me most worthy of belief in this form.
God is said to be eternal, according to the testimony of the most pious:
he who hath so much time taketh his time. As slow and as stupid as
possible: THEREBY can such a one nevertheless go very far.
And he who hath too much spirit might well become infatuated with stupidity
and folly. Think of thyself, O Zarathustra!
Thou thyself--verily! even thou couldst well become an ass through
superabundance of wisdom.
Doth not the true sage willingly walk on the crookedest paths? The
evidence teacheth it, O Zarathustra,--THINE OWN evidence!"
--"And thou thyself, finally," said Zarathustra, and turned towards the
ugliest man, who still lay on the ground stretching up his arm to the ass
(for he gave it wine to drink). "Say, thou nondescript, what hast thou
been about!
Thou seemest to me transformed, thine eyes glow, the mantle of the sublime
covereth thine ugliness: WHAT didst thou do?
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