Old and new tables

Here do I sit and wait, old broken tables around me and also new half-written tables. When cometh mine hour? —The hour of my descent, of my down-going: for once more will I go unto men. For that hour do I now wait: for…

Zarathustra sits among old broken tables and new half-written ones, waiting for the sign of his hour. Meanwhile he tells himself his own story.

When I came unto men, then found I them resting on an old infatuation: all of them thought they had long known what was good and bad for men. An old wearisome business seemed to them all discourse about virtue; and he…

Zarathustra recalls how he disturbed men's sleepy certainty about good and bad and bade them laugh at their moralists. He recounts his longing flight to a future of dancing gods, where the heavy things are danced over.

There was it also where I picked up from the path the word “Superman,” and that man is something that must be surpassed. —That man is a bridge and not a goal—rejoicing over his noontides and evenings, as advances to new…

Zarathustra summarises his teaching of the Superman and the great noontide, and calls redemption the creating of the future out of what hath been. He awaits his own redemption and compares his coming down-going to the sunset.

Behold, here is a new table; but where are my brethren who will carry it with me to the valley and into hearts of flesh?— Thus demandeth my great love to the remotest ones: BE NOT CONSIDERATE OF THY NEIGHBOUR! Man is…

A new table calls on his brethren to surpass themselves, even in their neighbour. The noble keep their promises to life and seek guilt and pain more than enjoyment.