ON THE ADDER’S BITE

ON THE ADDER’S BITE

ONE DAY ZARATHUSTRA HAD fallen asleep under a fig tree, for it was hot, with his arms over his face. And an adder came and bit him on the neck, so that Zarathustra cried out in pain. When he had taken his arm from his face he looked at the snake: and it recognized the eyes of Zarathustra, wriggled awkwardly and wanted to get away. “Oh no,” said Zarathustra, “you have not yet received my thanks! You awoke me in time, my way is still long.” “Your way is short,” the adder said sadly; “my poison is fatal.” Zarathustra smiled. “When did a dragon ever die from a snake’s poison?”—he said. “But take back your poison! You are not rich enough to give it to me.” Then the adder fell upon his neck again and licked his wound.

When Zarathustra once told this to his disciples, they asked: “And what, 0 Zarathustra, is the moral of your story?” Then Zarathustra answered thus:

The destroyer of morals, the good and just call me: my story is immoral.

But if you have an enemy, do not requite him good for evil: for that would shame him. But prove that he has done something good to you.

And rather be angry than make ashamed! And when you are cursed, I do not like it that you want to bless. Rather join a little in the cursing!

And should a great injustice be done to you, then quickly add five little ones. He who bears injustice alone is hideous to behold.

Did you already know this? A wrong shared is half right. And he who can bear it should take the wrong upon himself!

A little revenge is more human than no revenge at all. And if the punishment is not also a right and an honor for the transgressor, I do not like your punishing.

It is nobler to declare oneself wrong than to maintain one is right, especially if one is right. Only one must be rich enough for that.

I do not like your cold justice; and out of the eye of your judges there always gazes the executioner and his cold steel.

Tell me, where can one find that justice which is love with open eyes?

Then invent for me the love that bears not only all punishment but also all guilt!

Then invent for me the justice that acquits every one except the judge!

Do you still want to hear this too? To him who wants to be just through and through, even a lie becomes philanthropy.

But how could I be just through and through! How can I give each his own! Let this be enough for me: I give each my own.

Finally, my brothers, beware of doing wrong to any hermit. How could a hermit forget! How could he requite!

A hermit is like a deep well. It is easy to throw in a stone; but if it should sink to the bottom, tell me, who will bring it out again?

Beware of insulting the hermit! But if you have done so, well then, kill him too!

Thus spoke Zarathustra.