ON ENJOYING AND SUFFERING THE PASSIONS

ON ENJOYING AND SUFFERING THE PASSIONS

MY BROTHER, WHEN YOU have a virtue, and she is your own virtue, you have her in common with no one.

To be sure, you want to call her by name and caress her; you want to pull her ear and have fun with her.

And behold, now you have her name in common with the people, and have become one of the people and the herd with your virtue!

You would do better to say: “Ineffable and nameless is that which is agony and sweetness to my soul and is even the hunger of my entrails.”

Let your virtue be too exalted for the familiarity of names, and if you must speak of her, then do not be ashamed to stammer about her.

Then speak and stammer: “This is my good, this do I love, thus does it please me entirely, thus only do I desire the good.

“I do not want it as a divine law; I do not want it as a human law or a human need; it shall not to be signpost for me to over-earths and paradises.

“It is an earthly virtue that I love: there is little prudence in it, and least of all the reason of every man.

“But this bird built its nest with me: therefore, I love and caress it-now it dwells with me, sitting on its golden eggs.”

Thus you shall stammer and praise your virtue.

Once you suffered passions and called them evil. But now you have only your virtues left: they grew out of your passions.

You commended your highest aim to the heart of these passions: then they became the virtues and passions you enjoy.

And whether you came from the race of the choleric or the voluptuous or the fanatic or the vindictive:

All your passions in the end became virtues, and all your devils angels.

Once you had wild dogs in your cellar: but they changed at last into birds and charming singers.

Out of your poisons you brewed your balsam; you milked your cow, misery—now you drink the sweet milk of her udder.

And nothing evil grows in you any longer, unless it is the evil that grows out of the conflict of your virtues.

My brother, if you are fortunate, then you will have only one virtue and no more: thus you will go more easily over the bridge.

It is illustrious to have many virtues, but a hard lot; and many have gone into the desert and killed themselves, because they were weary of being the battle and battlefield of virtues.

My brother, are war and battle evil? But this evil is necessary; necessary are the envy and mistrust and calumny among the virtues.

Behold, how each of your virtues covets the highest place; each wants your whole spirit that it might become her herald, each wants your whole strength, in wrath, hatred, and love.

Each virtue is jealous of the others, and jealousy is a dreadful thing. Virtues too can perish of jealousy.

Surrounded by the flames of jealousy, the jealous one winds up, like the scorpion, turning the poisoned sting against himself.

Ah, my brother, have you never seen a virtue backbite and stab itself?

Man is something that has to be overcome: and therefore you will love your virtues,-for you will perish of them.

Thus spoke Zarathustra.