The Stillest Hour
“What has happened to me, my friends? You see me distraught, driven away, unwillingly obedient, ready to go—ah, to go away from you!
“Yes, once more Zarathustra must go back into his solitude: but this time the bear goes back to his cave without joy!
“What has happened to me? Who commands this?—Ah, my angry mistress wills it so,” she spoke to me: “have I ever told you her name?
“Yesterday toward evening my stillest hour spoke to me: that is the name of my terrible mistress.
“And thus it happened—for I must tell you everything, so that your heart may not harden against the one who departs so suddenly!
“Do you know the terror of one who is falling asleep?—
“He is terrified down to his toes because the ground gives way beneath him and the dream begins.
“This I tell you as a parable. Yesterday, in the stillest hour, the ground gave way beneath me: the dream began.
“The hand moved on, the clock of my life drew breath—never did I hear such stillness around me: so that my heart was terrified.
“Then it spoke to me without a voice: ‘You know it, Zarathustra?’—
“And I cried out in terror at this whispering, and the blood drained from my face: but I kept silent.
“Then it spoke to me again without a voice: ‘You know it, Zarathustra, but you do not speak it!’—
“And at last I answered like one who is defiant: ‘Yes, I know it, but I will not speak it!’
“Then it spoke to me again without a voice: ‘You will not, Zarathustra? Is this true as well? Do not hide yourself in your defiance!’—
“And I wept and trembled like a child and said: ‘Ah, I would like to, but how can I! Spare me this! It is beyond my strength!’
“Then it spoke to me again without a voice: ‘What do you matter, Zarathustra! Speak your word and break!’—
“And I answered: ‘Ah, is it my word? Who am I? I am waiting for one more worthy; I am not worthy even to break against it.’
“Then it spoke to me again without a voice: ‘What do you matter? You are not yet humble enough for me. Humility has the toughest hide.’—
“And I answered: ‘What has the hide of my humility not borne already! At the foot of my height I dwell: how high are my peaks? No one has told me yet. But I know my valleys well.’
“Then it spoke to me again without a voice: ‘O Zarathustra, whoever has mountains to move moves valleys and lowlands too.’—
“And I answered: ‘My word has not yet moved mountains, and what I spoke did not reach human beings. I went to human beings, it is true, but I have not yet arrived among them.’
“Then it spoke to me again without a voice: ‘What do you know of that! The dew falls on the grass when the night is most silent.’—
“And I answered: ‘They mocked me when I found and went my own way; and in truth my feet trembled then.’
“And so they said to me: ‘You have unlearned the way, now you are unlearning walking too!’
“Then it spoke to me again without a voice: ‘What does their mockery matter! You are one who has unlearned obeying: now you shall command!
“‘Do you not know who is most needed by all? He who commands great things.
“‘To accomplish great things is hard: but what is harder is to command great things.
“‘This is what is most unforgivable in you: you have the power, and you will not rule.’—
“And I answered: ‘I lack the lion’s voice for all commanding.’
“Then it spoke to me again like a whisper: ‘It is the stillest words that bring the storm. Thoughts that come on doves’ feet steer the world.
“‘O Zarathustra, you shall go as a shadow of what must come: thus you will command, and in commanding lead the way.’—
“And I answered: ‘I am ashamed.’
“Then it spoke to me again without a voice: ‘You must yet become a child, and without shame.
“‘The pride of youth is still upon you, late have you become young: but whoever wants to become a child must overcome his youth as well.’—
“And I reflected for a long time and trembled. But at last I said what I had said at first: ‘I will not.’
“Then laughter broke out around me. Woe, how this laughter tore my entrails and slit open my heart!
“And it spoke to me for the last time: ‘O Zarathustra, your fruits are ripe, but you are not ripe for your fruits!
“‘So you must go back into solitude: for you shall yet grow mellow.’—
“And again it laughed, and fled: then it grew still around me as with a twofold stillness. But I lay on the ground, and the sweat poured from my limbs.
“—Now you have heard everything, and why I must go back into my solitude. Nothing have I kept silent from you, my friends.
“But this too you have heard from me, who is still the most silent of all human beings—and wants to be!
“Ah, my friends! I would have something more to tell you, I would have something more to give you! Why do I not give it? Am I stingy, then?”—
But when Zarathustra had spoken these words, the force of his pain and the nearness of parting from his friends overcame him, so that he wept aloud; and no one knew how to comfort him. But in the night he went away alone and left his friends.