On the Chairs of Virtue

Zarathustra heard a wise man praised who was said to speak well about sleep and about virtue: he was greatly honored and rewarded for it, and all the youths sat before his chair. To him Zarathustra went, and with all the youths he sat before his chair. And thus spoke the wise man:

Honor and modesty before sleep! That is the first thing! And keep out of the way of all who sleep badly and lie awake at night!

Even the thief is modest before sleep: he always steals softly through the night. But shameless is the watchman of the night; shamelessly he carries his horn.

No small art is sleeping: for it you must stay awake the whole day long.

Ten times a day you must overcome yourself: that makes for a good weariness and is poppy for the soul.

Ten times you must reconcile yourself with yourself again; for overcoming is bitterness, and the unreconciled sleep badly.

Ten truths you must find each day: otherwise you will still be seeking truth at night, and your soul will have stayed hungry.

Ten times you must laugh during the day and be cheerful: otherwise your stomach, that father of gloom, will disturb you at night.

Few know this: but one must have all the virtues to sleep well. Shall I bear false witness? Shall I commit adultery?

Shall I covet my neighbor’s maidservant? All that would agree badly with good sleep.

And even if one has all the virtues, one must still understand one thing: to send even the virtues to sleep at the right time.

So that they do not quarrel with one another, the well-behaved little women! And quarrel over you, you unhappy man!

Peace with God and with the neighbor: so good sleep wills it. And peace even with the neighbor’s devil! Otherwise he will haunt you at night.

Honor and obedience to the authorities, even to crooked authorities! So good sleep wills it. How can I help it if power likes to walk on crooked legs?

He shall always be the best shepherd to me who leads his sheep to the greenest pasture: that agrees with good sleep.

I do not want many honors, nor great treasures: that inflames the spleen. But one sleeps badly without a good name and a little treasure.

A little company is more welcome to me than bad company: but it must come and go at the right time. That agrees with good sleep.

I am also very fond of the poor in spirit: they promote sleep. Blessed are they, especially when one always agrees with them.

Thus passes the day for the virtuous man. Now when night comes, I take good care not to summon sleep! It does not want to be summoned, sleep, which is the master of the virtues!

Instead I think over what I have done and thought during the day. Chewing the cud, patient as a cow, I ask myself: what, then, were your ten overcomings?

And what were the ten reconciliations and the ten truths and the ten laughters with which my heart regaled itself?

As I ponder such things, rocked by forty thoughts, sleep suddenly falls upon me, the unsummoned one, the master of the virtues.

Sleep taps on my eyes: they grow heavy. Sleep touches my mouth: it stays open.

Truly, on soft soles it comes to me, the dearest of thieves, and steals my thoughts from me: I stand there stupid as this chair.

But I do not stand much longer then: already I am lying down.—

When Zarathustra heard the wise man speak thus, he laughed in his heart: for a light had dawned on him. And thus he spoke to his heart:

A fool, this wise man here with his forty thoughts: but I believe he knows well enough how to sleep.

Happy even the one who lives near this wise man! Such sleep is contagious, contagious even through a thick wall.

A magic dwells even in his chair. And not in vain did the youths sit before the preacher of virtue.

His wisdom is: stay awake in order to sleep well. And truly, if life had no meaning and I had to choose nonsense, this would be for me too the nonsense most worth choosing.

Now I understand clearly what people once sought above all when they sought teachers of virtue. Good sleep they sought for themselves, and poppy-flowered virtues to go with it!

To all these much-praised wise men of the chairs, wisdom was sleep without dreams: they knew no better meaning of life.

Even today, no doubt, there are some like this preacher of virtue, and not always so honest: but their time is up. And they will not stand much longer: already they are lying down.

Blessed are these sleepy ones: for they shall soon nod off.—

Thus spoke Zarathustra.