LXXX. The Sign

In the morning, however, after this night, Zarathustra jumped up from his couch, and, having girded his loins, he came out of his cave glowing and strong, like a morning sun coming out of gloomy mountains. “Thou great…

Zarathustra rises glowing like a morning sun and greets the star as he once did. He says the higher men still sleep and are not his companions, and he praises his eagle as a proper animal while lacking proper men.

Thus spake Zarathustra; then, however, it happened that all on a sudden he became aware that he was flocked around and fluttered around, as if by innumerable birds,—the whizzing of so many wings, however, and the…

A cloud of doves envelops him, and he feels a lion's shaggy mane and hears its soft roar. He recognises the sign, says his children are nigh, weeps, and the lion licks his tears.

“MY CHILDREN ARE NIGH, MY CHILDREN”—, then he became quite mute.

Zarathustra's only words on seeing the lion and doves.

All this went on for a long time, or a short time: for properly speaking, there is NO time on earth for such things—. Meanwhile, however, the higher men had awakened in Zarathustra’s cave, and marshalled themselves for…

The higher men wake and go to greet him; the lion springs roaring toward the cave and they cry out and vanish. Zarathustra is left alone, stunned.

“FELLOW-SUFFERING! FELLOW-SUFFERING WITH THE HIGHER MEN!” he cried out, and his countenance changed into brass.

Recollecting the previous day, Zarathustra recalls the soothsayer's promise of a last sin. After brooding he springs up and names it as fellow-suffering with the higher men, declaring that its time is past.

My suffering and my fellow-suffering—what matter about them! Do I then strive after HAPPINESS? I strive after my WORK! Well! The lion hath come, my children are nigh, Zarathustra hath grown ripe, mine hour hath come:—…

He says he strives after his work and not happiness, declares himself ripe and his hour come, and leaves the cave glowing and strong, as in the opening.

This is MY morning, MY day beginneth: ARISE NOW, ARISE, THOU GREAT NOONTIDE!”—

Zarathustra's final cry before leaving the cave.