On the Adder’s Bite

One day Zarathustra had fallen asleep under a fig tree, for it was hot, and had laid his arms over his face. Then an adder came and bit him in the neck, so that Zarathustra cried out with pain. When he had taken his arm from his face, he looked at the snake: then it recognized Zarathustra’s eyes, writhed awkwardly, and tried to get away. “Not so,” said Zarathustra; “you have not yet accepted my thanks! You woke me in time; my way is still long.” “Your way is short now,” said the adder sadly; “my poison kills.” Zarathustra smiled. “When did a dragon ever die of a snake’s poison?—he said. But take your poison back! 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, O Zarathustra, is the moral of your story?” Zarathustra answered thus:

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

But if you have an enemy, do not repay him evil with good: for that would put him to shame. Rather prove that he did you some good.

And rather be angry than put to shame! And when you are cursed, I do not like it that you then want to bless. Rather curse a little along with them!

And if a great injustice was done to you, then quickly do five small ones besides! Hideous to look upon is the one on whom injustice weighs alone.

Did you know this already? Injustice shared is half justice. And let him take the injustice upon himself who can bear it!

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

It is nobler to put oneself in the wrong than to insist on being right, especially when one is right. Only one must be rich enough for it.

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

Tell me, where is that justice to be found which is love with seeing 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 everyone, except the one who judges!

Do you want to hear this too? In one who wants to be just through and through, even the lie becomes friendliness to human beings.

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 injustice to any hermit! How could a hermit forget! How could he repay!

A hermit is like a deep well. It is easy to throw a stone into it; but once it has sunk to the bottom, tell me, who will bring it out again?

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

Thus spoke Zarathustra.