FOURTH AND LAST PART.
67. LXVII. THE UGLIEST MAN. (continued)
And 'truth' is at present what the preacher spake who himself sprang from
them, that singular saint and advocate of the petty people, who testified
of himself: 'I--am the truth.'
That immodest one hath long made the petty people greatly puffed up,--he
who taught no small error when he taught: 'I--am the truth.'
Hath an immodest one ever been answered more courteously?--Thou, however, O
Zarathustra, passedst him by, and saidst: 'Nay! Nay! Three times Nay!'
Thou warnedst against his error; thou warnedst--the first to do so--against
pity:--not every one, not none, but thyself and thy type.
Thou art ashamed of the shame of the great sufferer; and verily when thou
sayest: 'From pity there cometh a heavy cloud; take heed, ye men!'
--When thou teachest: 'All creators are hard, all great love is beyond
their pity:' O Zarathustra, how well versed dost thou seem to me in
weather-signs!
Thou thyself, however,--warn thyself also against THY pity! For many are
on their way to thee, many suffering, doubting, despairing, drowning,
freezing ones--
I warn thee also against myself. Thou hast read my best, my worst riddle,
myself, and what I have done. I know the axe that felleth thee.
But he--HAD TO die: he looked with eyes which beheld EVERYTHING,--he
beheld men's depths and dregs, all his hidden ignominy and ugliness.
His pity knew no modesty: he crept into my dirtiest corners. This most
prying, over-intrusive, over-pitiful one had to die.
He ever beheld ME: on such a witness I would have revenge--or not live
myself.
The God who beheld everything, AND ALSO MAN: that God had to die! Man
cannot ENDURE it that such a witness should live."
Thus spake the ugliest man. Zarathustra however got up, and prepared to go
on: for he felt frozen to the very bowels.
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