And many a one strideth on and in doing so looketh backward, with a stiffened neck. I rejoice to run against the stomachs of such. Foot and eyes shall not lie, nor reproach each other for lying. But there is much lying among small folk. Some of them _will_, but most of them _are willed_ merely. Some of them are genuine, but most of them are bad actors. There are unconscious actors among them, and involuntary actors. The genuine are always rare, especially genuine actors. Here is little of man; therefore women try to make themselves manly. For only he who is enough of a man will save the woman in woman. And this hypocrisy I found to be worst among them, that even those who command feign the virtues of those who serve. 'I serve, thou servest, we serve.' Thus the hypocrisy of the rulers prayeth. And, alas, if the highest lord be merely the highest servant! Alas! the curiosity of mine eye strayed even unto their hypocrisies, and well I divined all their fly-happiness and their humming round window panes in the sunshine. So much kindness, so much weakness see I. So much justice and sympathy, so much weakness. Round, honest, and kind are they towards each other, as grains of sand are round, honest, and kind unto grains of sand. Modestly to embrace a small happiness--they call 'submission'! And therewith they modestly look sideways after a new small happiness. At bottom they desire plainly one thing most of all: to be hurt by nobody. Thus they oblige all and do well unto them. But this is _cowardice_; although it be called 'virtue.' And if once they speak harshly, these small folk,--I hear therein merely their hoarseness. For every draught of air maketh them hoarse. Prudent are they; their virtues have prudent fingers. But they are lacking in clenched fists; their fingers know not how to hide themselves behind fists. For them virtue is what maketh modest and tame. Thereby they have made the wolf a dog and man himself man's best domestic animal. 'We put our chair in the midst'--thus saith their simpering unto me--'exactly as far from dying gladiators as from happy swine.' This is mediocrity; although it be called moderation."(21) (21) "Thus Spake Zarathustra," pp. 243-245.