ZARATHUSTRA'S DISCOURSES
XVIII. OLD AND YOUNG WOMEN
by Friedrich Nietzsche
Why stealest thou along so furtively in the twilight, Zarathustra?
And
what hidest thou so carefully under thy mantle?
Is it a treasure that hath been given thee? Or a child that hath been
born
thee? Or goest thou thyself on a thief's errand, thou friend of the
evil?--
Verily, my brother, said Zarathustra, it is a
treasure that hath been given
me: it is a little truth which I carry.
But it is naughty, like a young child; and if I hold not its
mouth, it
screameth too loudly.
As I went on my way alone to-day, at the hour when the sun
declineth, there
met me an old woman, and she spake thus unto my soul:
Much hath Zarathustra spoken also to us women, but never spake
he unto us
concerning woman.
And I answered her: Concerning woman, one should only talk
unto men.
Talk also unto me of woman, said she; I am old enough to
forget it
presently.
And I obliged the old woman and spake thus unto her:
Everything in woman is a riddle, and everything in woman
hath one solution
--it is called pregnancy.
Man is for woman a means: the purpose is always the child.
But what is
woman for man?
Two different things wanteth the true man: danger and
diversion.
Therefore wanteth he woman, as the most dangerous plaything.
Man shall be trained for war, and woman for the recreation of
the warrior:
all else is folly.
Too sweet fruits--these the warrior liketh not. Therefore liketh
he
woman;--bitter is even the sweetest woman.
Better than man doth woman understand children, but man is
more childish
than woman.
In the true man there is a child hidden: it wanteth to play. Up
then, ye
women, and discover the child in man!
A plaything let woman be, pure and fine like the precious
stone, illumined
with the virtues of a world not yet come.
Let the beam of a star shine in your love! Let your hope say:
"May I bear
the Superman!"
In your love let there be valour! With your love shall ye assail
him who
inspireth you with fear!
In your love be your honor! Little doth woman understand
otherwise about
honor. But let this be your honor: always to love more than ye are
loved, and never be the second.
Let man fear woman when she loveth: then maketh she every
sacrifice, and
everything else she regardeth as worthless.
Let man fear woman when she hateth: for man in his innermost
soul is
merely evil; woman, however, is mean.
Whom hateth woman most?--Thus spake the iron to the
loadstone: "I hate
thee most, because thou attractest, but art too weak to draw unto thee."
The happiness of man is, I will. The happiness of woman is,
He will.
"Lo! now hath the world become perfect!"--thus thinketh every
woman when
she obeyeth with all her love.
Obey, must the woman, and find a depth for her surface.
Surface, is
woman's soul, a mobile, stormy film on shallow water.
Man's soul, however, is deep, its current gusheth in
subterranean caverns:
woman surmiseth its force, but comprehendeth it not.--
Then answered me the old woman: Many fine things hath Zarathustra
said,
especially for those who are young enough for them.
Strange! Zarathustra knoweth little about woman, and yet he is right
about
them! Doth this happen, because with women nothing is impossible?
And now accept a little truth by way of thanks! I am old enough for
it!
Swaddle it up and hold its mouth: otherwise it will scream too
loudly, the
little truth.
Give me, woman, thy little truth! said I. And thus
spake the old woman:
Thou goest to women? Do not forget thy whip!
Thus spake Zarathustra.
the first thought of Zarathustra