Ainsi Parlait Zarathoustra

By Friedrich Nietzsche

Page 60

sont toujours prosternés et leurs mains se joignent à la
louange de la vertu, mais leur coeur ne sait rien de cela.

Et il en est d'autres de nouveau qui croient qu'il est vertueux de
dire: "La vertu est nécessaire"; mais au fond ils ne croient qu'une
seule chose, c'est que la police est nécessaire.

Et quelques-uns, qui ne savent voir ce qu'il y a d'élevé dans l'homme,
parlent de vertu quand ils voient de trop près la bassesse de l'homme:
ainsi ils appellent "vertu" leur mauvais oeil.

Les uns veulent être édifiés et redressés et appellent cela de la vertu
et les autres veulent être renversés - et cela aussi ils l'appellent de
la vertu.

Et ainsi presque tous croient avoir quelque part à la vertu; et tous
veulent pour le moins s'y connaître en "bien" et en "mal".

Mais Zarathoustra n'est pas venu pour dire à tous ces menteurs et à ces
insensés: "Que savez-_vous_ de la vertu? Que _pourriez_-vous savoir de
la vertu?" -

Il est venu, mes amis, pour que vous vous fatiguiez des vieilles
paroles que vous avez apprises des menteurs et des insensés:

pour que vous vous fatiguiez des mots "récompense", "représailles',
"punition", "vengeance dans la justice" -

pour que vous vous fatiguiez de dire "une action est bonne, parce
qu'elle est désintéressée".

Hélas, mes amis! Que _votre_ "moi" soit dans l'action, ce que la mère
est dans l'enfant: que ceci soit _votre_ parole de vertu!

Vraiment, je vous ai bien arraché cent paroles et les plus chers
hochets de votre vertu; et maintenant vous me boudez comme boudent des
enfants.

Ils jouaient près de la mer, - et la vague est venue, emportant leurs
jouets dans les profondeurs. Les voilà qui se mettent à pleurer.

Mais la même vague doit leur apporter de nouveaux jouets et répandre
devant eux de nouveaux coquillages bariolés.

Ainsi ils seront consolés; et comme eux, vous aussi, mes amis, vous
aurez vos consolations - et de nouveaux coquillages bariolés! -


Ainsi parlait Zarathoustra.





DE LA CANAILLE


La vie est une source de joie, mais partout où la canaille vient boire,
toutes les fontaines sont empoisonnées.

J'aime tout ce qui est propre; puis je ne puis voir les gueules
grimaçantes et la soif des gens impurs.

Ils ont jeté leur regard au fond du puits, maintenant leur sourire
odieux se reflète au fond du puits et me regarde.

Ils ont empoisonné par leur concupiscence l'eau sainte; et, en appelant
joie leurs rêves malpropres, ils ont empoisonné même le langage.

La flamme s'indigne lorsqu'ils mettent au feu leur coeur humide;
l'esprit lui-même bouillonne et fume quand la canaille s'approche du
feu.

Le fruit

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