SECOND PART.
28. XXVIII. THE RABBLE. (continued)
A summer on the loftiest height, with cold fountains and blissful
stillness: oh, come, my friends, that the stillness may become more
blissful!
For this is OUR height and our home: too high and steep do we here dwell
for all uncleanly ones and their thirst.
Cast but your pure eyes into the well of my delight, my friends! How could
it become turbid thereby! It shall laugh back to you with ITS purity.
On the tree of the future build we our nest; eagles shall bring us lone
ones food in their beaks!
Verily, no food of which the impure could be fellow-partakers! Fire, would
they think they devoured, and burn their mouths!
Verily, no abodes do we here keep ready for the impure! An ice-cave to
their bodies would our happiness be, and to their spirits!
And as strong winds will we live above them, neighbours to the eagles,
neighbours to the snow, neighbours to the sun: thus live the strong winds.
And like a wind will I one day blow amongst them, and with my spirit, take
the breath from their spirit: thus willeth my future.
Verily, a strong wind is Zarathustra to all low places; and this counsel
counselleth he to his enemies, and to whatever spitteth and speweth: "Take
care not to spit AGAINST the wind!"--
Thus spake Zarathustra.
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