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<h2> XLIII. MANLY PRUDENCE. </h2>
<h3> Not the height, it is the declivity that is terrible! </h3>
<p>The declivity, where the gaze shooteth DOWNWARDS, and the hand graspeth
UPWARDS. There doth the heart become giddy through its double will.</p>
<p>Ah, friends, do ye divine also my heart's double will?</p>
<p>This, this is MY declivity and my danger, that my gaze shooteth towards
the summit, and my hand would fain clutch and lean—on the depth!</p>
<p>To man clingeth my will; with chains do I bind myself to man, because I am
pulled upwards to the Superman: for thither doth mine other will tend.</p>
<p>And THEREFORE do I live blindly among men, as if I knew them not: that my
hand may not entirely lose belief in firmness.</p>
<p>I know not you men: this gloom and consolation is often spread around me.</p>
<p>I sit at the gateway for every rogue, and ask: Who wisheth to deceive me?</p>
<p>This is my first manly prudence, that I allow myself to be deceived, so as
not to be on my guard against deceivers.</p>
<p>Ah, if I were on my guard against man, how could man be an anchor to my
ball! Too easily would I be pulled upwards and away!</p>
<p>This providence is over my fate, that I have to be without foresight.</p>
<p>And he who would not languish amongst men, must learn to drink out of all
glasses; and he who would keep clean amongst men, must know how to wash
himself even with dirty water.</p>
<p>And thus spake I often to myself for consolation: "Courage! Cheer up! old
heart! An unhappiness hath failed to befall thee: enjoy that as thy—happiness!"</p>
<p>This, however, is mine other manly prudence: I am more forbearing to the
VAIN than to the proud.</p>
<p>Is not wounded vanity the mother of all tragedies? Where, however, pride
is wounded, there there groweth up something better than pride.</p>
<p>That life may be fair to behold, its game must be well played; for that
purpose, however, it needeth good actors.</p>
<p>Good actors have I found all the vain ones: they play, and wish people to
be fond of beholding them—all their spirit is in this wish.</p>
<p>They represent themselves, they invent themselves; in their neighbourhood
I like to look upon life—it cureth of melancholy.</p>
<p>Therefore am I forbearing to the vain, because they are the physicians of
my melancholy, and keep me attached to man as to a drama.</p>
<p>And further, who conceiveth the full depth of the modesty of the vain man!
I am favourable to him, and sympathetic on account of his modesty.</p>
<p>From you would he learn his belief in himself; he feedeth upon your
glances, he eateth praise out of your hands.</p>
<p>Your lies doth he even believe when you lie favourably about him: for in
its depths sigheth his heart: "What am <i>I</i>?"</p>
<p>And if that be the true virtue which is unconscious of itself—well,
the vain man is unconscious of his modesty!—</p>
<p>This is, however, my third manly prudence: I am not put out of conceit
with the WICKED by your timorousness.</p>
<p>I am happy to see the marvels the warm sun hatcheth: tigers and palms and
rattle-snakes.</p>
<p>Also amongst men there is a beautiful brood of the warm sun, and much that
is marvellous in the wicked.</p>
<p>In truth, as your wisest did not seem to me so very wise, so found I also
human wickedness below the fame of it.</p>
<p>And oft did I ask with a shake of the head: Why still rattle, ye
rattle-snakes?</p>
<p>Verily, there is still a future even for evil! And the warmest south is
still undiscovered by man.</p>
<p>How many things are now called the worst wickedness, which are only twelve
feet broad and three months long! Some day, however, will greater dragons
come into the world.</p>
<p>For that the Superman may not lack his dragon, the superdragon that is
worthy of him, there must still much warm sun glow on moist virgin
forests!</p>
<p>Out of your wild cats must tigers have evolved, and out of your
poison-toads, crocodiles: for the good hunter shall have a good hunt!</p>
<p>And verily, ye good and just! In you there is much to be laughed at, and
especially your fear of what hath hitherto been called "the devil!"</p>
<p>So alien are ye in your souls to what is great, that to you the Superman
would be FRIGHTFUL in his goodness!</p>
<p>And ye wise and knowing ones, ye would flee from the solar-glow of the
wisdom in which the Superman joyfully batheth his nakedness!</p>
<p>Ye highest men who have come within my ken! this is my doubt of you, and
my secret laughter: I suspect ye would call my Superman—a devil!</p>
<p>Ah, I became tired of those highest and best ones: from their "height" did
I long to be up, out, and away to the Superman!</p>
<p>A horror came over me when I saw those best ones naked: then there grew
for me the pinions to soar away into distant futures.</p>
<p>Into more distant futures, into more southern souths than ever artist
dreamed of: thither, where Gods are ashamed of all clothes!</p>
<p>But disguised do I want to see YOU, ye neighbours and fellowmen, and
well-attired and vain and estimable, as "the good and just;"—</p>
<p>And disguised will I myself sit amongst you—that I may MISTAKE you
and myself: for that is my last manly prudence.—</p>
<p>Thus spake Zarathustra.</p>
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