On Human Prudence

Not the height: the slope is what is terrible!

The slope, where the gaze plunges downward and the hand reaches upward. There the heart grows dizzy before its double will.

Ah, friends, do you guess my heart’s double will as well?

This, this is my slope and my danger, that my gaze plunges into the height, and that my hand would like to hold on and support itself—on the depth!

To the human being my will clings, with chains I bind myself to the human being, because I am torn upward to the Übermensch: for that is where my other will wants to go.

And for this I live blind among human beings, as if I did not know them: so that my hand may not entirely lose its faith in something firm.

I do not know you human beings: this darkness and consolation is often spread around me.

I sit at the gateway for every rogue and ask: Who wants to deceive me?

This is my first human prudence, that I let myself be deceived so as not to be on guard against deceivers.

Ah, if I were on guard against the human being: how could the human being be an anchor for my balloon! Too easily I would be torn up and away!

This providence is over my destiny, that I must be without precaution.

And whoever does not want to languish among human beings must learn to drink from all glasses; and whoever wants to stay clean among human beings must know how to wash even with dirty water.

And thus I often spoke to myself for comfort: “Well then! Up! Old heart! A misfortune has miscarried for you: enjoy this as your—good fortune!”

But this is my other human prudence: I spare the vain more than the proud.

Is not wounded vanity the mother of all tragedies? But where pride is wounded, something better still than pride is likely to grow.

For life to be good to watch, its play must be well played: but for that good actors are needed.

Good actors I found all the vain to be: they act and want people to enjoy watching them—all their spirit is in this will.

They put themselves on show, they invent themselves; near them I love to watch life—it cures melancholy.

That is why I spare the vain, because they are physicians to me for my melancholy and keep me attached to the human being as to a play.

And then: who can measure in the vain man the whole depth of his modesty! I am fond of him and pity him for his modesty.

From you he wants to learn his faith in himself; he feeds on your glances, he eats praise out of your hands.

He believes even your lies if you lie well about him: for in the depths his heart sighs: “What am I!”

And if that is the true virtue which does not know about itself: well, the vain man does not know about his modesty!—

But this is my third human prudence, that I do not let your fearfulness spoil for me the sight of the evil.

I am blissful to see the wonders that hot sun hatches: tigers and palms and rattlesnakes.

Among human beings too there is a beautiful brood of hot sun, and much that is wonderful in the evil.

To be sure, just as your wisest did not seem so very wise to me, so I found human malice too below its reputation.

And often I asked, shaking my head: Why still rattle, you rattlesnakes?

Truly, there is still a future even for evil! And the hottest south has not yet been discovered for the human being.

How many things are now called the worst malice that are after all only twelve feet wide and three months long! But one day greater dragons will come into the world.

For so that the Übermensch may not lack his dragon, the overdragon that is worthy of him: for that much hot sun must yet glow on damp primeval forest!

Your wildcats must first have become tigers, and your poisonous toads crocodiles: for the good hunter shall have a good hunt!

And truly, you good and just! There is much in you to laugh at, and especially your fear of what has so far been called “devil”!

So strange are you in your soul to what is great that the Übermensch would be terrible to you in his goodness!

And you wise and knowing ones, you would flee from the sunburn of wisdom in which the Übermensch joyfully bathes his nakedness!

You highest human beings whom my eye has met! this is my doubt about you and my secret laughter: I guess that you would call my Übermensch—devil!

Ah, I grew weary of these highest and best ones: from their “height” I longed to go up, out, away to the Übermensch!

A horror came over me when I saw these best ones naked: then wings grew on me to soar away into distant futures.

Into more distant futures, into more southern souths than any sculptor ever dreamed: there, where gods are ashamed of all clothes!

But you I want to see disguised, you neighbors and fellow human beings, and well dressed up, and vain, and dignified, as “the good and the just”—

And disguised I want to sit among you myself—so that I may mistake you and myself: for that is my last human prudence.

Thus spoke Zarathustra.