XVI. NEIGHBOUR-LOVE.
“Why stealest thou along so furtively in the twilight, Zarathustra? And what hidest thou so carefully under thy mantle?
Is it a treasure that hath been given thee?
Verily, my brother, said Zarathustra, it is a treasure that hath been given me: it is a little truth which I carry.
But it is naughty, like a young child; and if I hold not its mouth, it screameth too loudly. Rather do I advise you to neighbour-flight and to furthest love!
As I went on my way alone to-day, at the hour when the sun declineth, there met me an old woman, and she spake thus unto my soul:
“Much hath Zarathustra spoken also to us women, but never spake he unto us concerning woman.” But thou fearest, and runnest unto thy neighbour.
And I answered her: “Concerning woman, one should only talk unto men.”
“Talk also unto me of woman,” said she; “I am old enough to forget it presently.”
And I obliged the old woman and spake thus unto her:
Everything in woman is a riddle, and everything in woman hath one solution—it is called pregnancy. And thus speak ye of yourselves in your intercourse, and belie your neighbour with yourselves.
Man is for woman a means: the purpose is always the child.
Two different things wanteth the true man: danger and diversion. Therefore wanteth he woman, as the most dangerous plaything.
Man shall be trained for war, and woman for the recreation of the warrior: all else is folly.
Too sweet fruits—these the warrior liketh not.
Better than man doth woman understand children, but man is more childish than woman. Let the friend be the festival of the earth to you, and a foretaste of the Superman.
In the true man there is a child hidden: it wanteth to play. Up then, ye women, and discover the child in man!
A plaything let woman be, pure and fine like the precious stone, illumined with the virtues of a world not yet come.
Let the beam of a star shine in your love!
In your love let there be valour!
In your love be your honour!
Thus spake Zarathustra.
