Ainsi Parlait Zarathoustra

By Friedrich Nietzsche

Page 138

avec des cornes en colère! La glace
cependant - _brise les passerelles_!

O mes frères! _tout ne coule_-t-il pas maintenant? Toutes les
balustrades et toutes les passerelles ne sont-elles pas tombées à
l'eau? Qui se _tiendrait_ encore au "bien" et au "mal"?

"Malheur à nous! gloire à nous! le vent du dégel souffle!" - Prêchez
ainsi, mes frères, à travers toutes les rues.


9.


Il y a une vieille folie qui s'appelle bien et mal. La roue de cette
folie a tourné jusqu'à présent autour des devins et des astrologues.

Jadis on _croyait_ aux devins et aux astrologues; et c'est _pourquoi_
l'on croyait que tout était fatalité: "Tu dois, car il le faut!"

Puis on se méfia de tous les devins et de tous les astrologues et c'est
_pourquoi_ l'on crut que tout était liberté: "Tu peux, car tu veux!"

O mes frères! sur les étoiles et sur l'avenir on n'a fait jusqu'à
présent que des suppositions sans jamais savoir: et c'est _pourquoi_
sur le bien et le mal on n'a fait que des suppositions sans jamais
savoir!


10.


"Tu ne déroberas point! Tu ne tueras point!" Ces paroles étaient
appelées saintes jadis: devant elles on courbait les genoux et l'on
baissait la tête, et l'on ôtait ses souliers.

Mais je vous demande: où y eut-il jamais de meilleurs brigands et
meilleurs assassins dans le monde, que les brigands et les assassins
provoqués par ces saintes paroles?

N'y a-t-il pas dans la vie elle-même - le vol et l'assassinat? Et, en
sanctifiant ces paroles, n'a-t-on pas assassiné la _vérité_ elle-même?

Ou bien était-ce prêcher la mort que de sanctifier tout ce qui
contredisait et déconseillait la vie? - O mes frères, brisez,
brisez-moi les vieilles tables.


11.


Ceci est ma pitié à l'égard de tout le passé que je le vois abandonné,
- abandonné à la grâce, à l'esprit et à la folie de toutes les
générations de l'avenir, qui transformeront tout ce qui fut en un pont
pour elles-mêmes!

Un grand despote pourrait venir, un démon malin qui forcerait tout le
passé par sa grâce et par sa disgrâce: jusqu'à ce que le passé devienne
pour lui un pont, un signal, un héros et un cri de coq.

Mais ceci est l'autre danger et mon autre pitié: - les pensées de celui
qui fait partie de la populace ne remontent que jusqu'à son grand-père,
- mais avec le grand-père finit le temps.

Ainsi tout le passé est abandonné: car il pourrait arriver un jour que
la populace devînt maître et qu'elle noyât dans des eaux basses
l'époque tout entière.

C'est pourquoi, mes frères, il faut une

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220.
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The eternal, fatal "Too late!" The melancholia of everything COMPLETED--! 278.
Page 135
" 282.
Page 136
" 285.