—To-day, when everything tottereth, when all the earth quaketh. Ye, however, when I see what eyes ye make, it almost seemeth to me that ye seek MORE INSECURITY, —More horror, more danger, more earthquake. Ye long (it almost seemeth so to me—forgive my presumption, ye higher men)— —Ye long for the worst and dangerousest life, which frighteneth ME most,—for the life of wild beasts, for forests, caves, steep mountains and labyrinthine gorges. And it is not those who lead OUT OF danger that please you best, but those who lead you away from all paths, the misleaders. But if such longing in you be ACTUAL, it seemeth to me nevertheless to be IMPOSSIBLE. For fear—that is man’s original and fundamental feeling; through fear everything is explained, original sin and original virtue. Through fear there grew also MY virtue, that is to say: Science. For fear of wild animals—that hath been longest fostered in man, inclusive of the animal which he concealeth and feareth in himself:—Zarathustra calleth it ‘the beast inside.’ Such prolonged ancient fear, at last become subtle, spiritual and intellectual—at present, me thinketh, it is called SCIENCE.”— Thus spake the conscientious one; but Zarathustra, who had just come back into his cave and had heard and divined the last discourse, threw a handful of roses to the conscientious one, and laughed on account of his “truths.” “Why!” he exclaimed, “what did I hear just now? Verily, it seemeth to me, thou art a fool, or else I myself am one: and quietly and quickly will I put thy ‘truth’ upside down. For FEAR—is an exception with us. Courage, however, and adventure, and delight in the uncertain, in the unattempted—COURAGE seemeth to me the entire primitive history of man. The wildest and most courageous animals hath he envied and robbed of all their virtues: thus only did he become—man. THIS courage, at last become subtle, spiritual and intellectual, this human courage, with eagle’s pinions and serpent’s wisdom: THIS, it seemeth to me, is called at present—” “ZARATHUSTRA!” cried all of them there assembled, as if with one voice, and burst out at the same time into a great laughter; there arose, however, from them as it were a heavy cloud. Even the magician laughed, and said wisely: “Well! It is gone, mine evil spirit! And did I not myself warn you against it when I said that it was a deceiver, a lying and deceiving spirit? Especially when it showeth itself naked. But what can _I_ do with regard to its tricks! Have _I_ created it and the world? Well! Let us be good again, and of good cheer! And although Zarathustra looketh with evil eye—just see him! he disliketh me—: —Ere night cometh will he again learn to love and laud me; he cannot live long without committing such follies. HE—loveth his enemies: this art knoweth he better than any one I have seen. But he taketh revenge for it—on his friends!”