The voluntary beggar

When Zarathustra had left the ugliest man, he was chilled and felt lonesome: for much coldness and lonesomeness came over his spirit, so that even his limbs became colder thereby. When, however, he wandered on and on,…

Zarathustra wanders on, grows warm again, and finds kine gathered around a man who is preaching to them. He drives the animals aside, fearing someone is hurt, and finds a peaceable Preacher-on-the-Mount.

“What do I here seek?” answered he: “the same that thou seekest, thou mischief-maker; that is to say, happiness upon earth. To that end, however, I would fain learn of these kine. For I tell thee that I have already…

The beggar says he seeks happiness on earth and wants to learn ruminating from the kine. He says that without it a man cannot be rid of his great affliction, disgust.

Thus spake the Preacher-on-the-Mount, and turned then his own look towards Zarathustra—for hitherto it had rested lovingly on the kine—: then, however, he put on a different expression. “Who is this with whom I talk?”…

The beggar recognises Zarathustra as the surmounter of disgust and kisses his hands. Zarathustra recalls that the beggar once threw away his riches, was refused by the poor, and learned how hard it is to give well.

“Especially nowadays,” answered the voluntary beggar: “at present, that is to say, when everything low hath become rebellious and exclusive and haughty in its manner—in the manner of the populace. For the hour hath…

The beggar describes a coming mob-and-slave insurrection. He says the poor are no longer blessed and the rich are a gilded rabble. Disgusted with both, he fled to the kine.

It is no longer true that the poor are blessed.

The beggar reverses the beatitude: the kingdom of heaven is now with the kine.

Thus spake the peaceful one, and puffed himself and perspired with his words: so that the kine wondered anew. Zarathustra, however, kept looking into his face with a smile, all the time the man talked so severely—and…

Zarathustra smiles and tells the beggar that such rage does not suit his mouth, eye or stomach. The beggar admits he loves honey and grinding corn, and praises the cows for ruminating, lying in the sun and avoiding heavy thoughts.

—“Well!” said Zarathustra, “thou shouldst also see MINE animals, mine eagle and my serpent,—their like do not at present exist on earth. Behold, thither leadeth the way to my cave: be to-night its guest. And talk to…

Zarathustra invites the beggar to his cave to talk to the eagle and serpent about animal happiness, since a cry of distress calls him away. When the beggar calls him better than a cow, Zarathustra mockingly drives him off with his stick.

Scarcely however was the voluntary beggar gone in haste, and Zarathustra again alone, when he heard behind him a new voice which called out: “Stay! Zarathustra! Do wait! It is myself, forsooth, O Zarathustra, myself,…

Hearing a voice call him its shadow, Zarathustra runs away in irritation, so that three runners follow one another: the beggar, Zarathustra, the shadow.

It was late in the afternoon only when Zarathustra, after long useless searching and strolling about, again came home to his cave. When, however, he stood over against it, not more than twenty paces therefrom, the thing…

Returning home, Zarathustra hears the cry of distress again, this time from his own cave. He finds all the men he met that day sitting there, and greets them with courteous curiosity.

I am a law only for mine own; I am not a law for all.

The voluntary beggar objects to the flesh, wine and spices. Zarathustra tells him to keep his own customs and describes those who belong to him, who take the best food, sky, thoughts and women.

All on a sudden however, Zarathustra’s ear was frightened: for the cave which had hitherto been full of noise and laughter, became all at once still as death;—his nose, however, smelt a sweet-scented vapour and…

The cave falls silent and fills with incense. Zarathustra looks in and finds all the higher men kneeling and praying to the ass, and the ugliest man begins a litany.