FOURTH AND LAST PART.
66. LXVI. OUT OF SERVICE.
Not long, however, after Zarathustra had freed himself from the magician,
he again saw a person sitting beside the path which he followed, namely a
tall, black man, with a haggard, pale countenance: THIS MAN grieved him
exceedingly. "Alas," said he to his heart, "there sitteth disguised
affliction; methinketh he is of the type of the priests: what do THEY want
in my domain?
What! Hardly have I escaped from that magician, and must another
necromancer again run across my path,--
--Some sorcerer with laying-on-of-hands, some sombre wonder-worker by the
grace of God, some anointed world-maligner, whom, may the devil take!
But the devil is never at the place which would be his right place: he
always cometh too late, that cursed dwarf and club-foot!"--
Thus cursed Zarathustra impatiently in his heart, and considered how with
averted look he might slip past the black man. But behold, it came about
otherwise. For at the same moment had the sitting one already perceived
him; and not unlike one whom an unexpected happiness overtaketh, he sprang
to his feet, and went straight towards Zarathustra.
"Whoever thou art, thou traveller," said he, "help a strayed one, a seeker,
an old man, who may here easily come to grief!
The world here is strange to me, and remote; wild beasts also did I hear
howling; and he who could have given me protection--he is himself no more.
I was seeking the pious man, a saint and an anchorite, who, alone in his
forest, had not yet heard of what all the world knoweth at present."
"WHAT doth all the world know at present?" asked Zarathustra. "Perhaps
that the old God no longer liveth, in whom all the world once believed?"
"Thou sayest it," answered the old man sorrowfully. "And I served that old
God until his last hour.
Now, however, am I out of service, without master, and yet not free;
likewise am I no longer merry even for an hour, except it be in
recollections.
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