XXVIII. The Rabble

Life is a well of delight; but where the rabble also drink, there all fountains are poisoned. To everything cleanly am I well disposed; but I hate to see the grinning mouths and the thirst of the unclean. They cast…

Zarathustra says life is a well of delight, but the rabble poison it by drinking there. He lists those who fled life, or came as destroyers, only because of the rabble.

But I asked once, and suffocated almost with my question: What? is the rabble also NECESSARY for life?

Zarathustra confesses that enmity and torture-crosses did not choke him as much as the question whether the rabble are needed. He describes living deaf and blind, holding his nose, to avoid the power-, scribe- and pleasure-rabble.

What hath happened unto me? How have I freed myself from loathing? Who hath rejuvenated mine eye? How have I flown to the height where no rabble any longer sit at the wells? Did my loathing itself create for me wings…

He asks how he freed himself from loathing and answers that it gave him wings to fly to a well no rabble can reach. He rejoices in his summer on the height and calls his friends to share its stillness.

For this is OUR height and our home: too high and steep do we here dwell for all uncleanly ones and their thirst. Cast but your pure eyes into the well of my delight, my friends! How could it become turbid thereby! It…

Zarathustra invites his friends to look into the well and to live like strong winds beside eagles, snow and sun. He says he will one day blow among the low and warns his enemies not to spit against the wind.

Verily, a strong wind is Zarathustra to all low places; and this counsel counselleth he to his enemies, and to whatever spitteth and speweth: “Take care not to spit AGAINST the wind!”—

Zarathustra calls himself a strong wind to all low places and warns those who spit to take care.