dizzy with revenge!

That I may NOT turn dizzy, however, bind me fast, my friends, to this
pillar! Rather will I be a pillar-saint than a whirl of vengeance!

Verily, no cyclone or whirlwind is Zarathustra: and if he be a dancer,
he is not at all a tarantula-dancer!--

Thus spake Zarathustra.

XXX. THE FAMOUS WISE ONES.

The people have ye served and the people's superstition--NOT the
truth!--all ye famous wise ones! And just on that account did they pay
you reverence.

And on that account also did they tolerate your unbelief, because it
was a pleasantry and a by-path for the people. Thus doth the master give
free scope to his slaves, and even enjoyeth their presumptuousness.

But he who is hated by the people, as the wolf by the dogs--is the free
spirit, the enemy of fetters, the non-adorer, the dweller in the woods.

To hunt him out of his lair--that was always called "sense of right" by
the people: on him do they still hound their sharpest-toothed dogs.

"For there the truth is, where the people are! Woe, woe to the seeking
ones!"--thus hath it echoed through all time.

Your people would ye justify in their reverence: that called ye "Will to
Truth," ye famous wise ones!

And your heart hath always said to itself: "From the people have I come:
from thence came to me also the voice of God."

Stiff-necked and artful, like the ass, have ye always been, as the
advocates of the people.

And many a powerful one who wanted to run well with the people, hath
harnessed in front of his horses--a donkey, a famous wise man.

And now, ye famous wise ones, I would have you finally throw off
entirely the skin of the lion!

The skin of the beast of prey, the speckled skin, and the dishevelled
locks of the investigator, the searcher, and the conqueror!

Ah! for me to learn to believe in your "conscientiousness," ye would
first have to break your venerating will.

Conscientious--so call I him who goeth into God-forsaken wildernesses,
and hath broken his venerating heart.

In the yellow sands and burnt by the sun, he doubtless peereth thirstily
at the isles rich in fountains, where life reposeth under shady trees.

But his thirst doth not persuade him to become like those comfortable
ones: for where there are oases, there are also idols.

Hungry, fierce, lonesome, God-forsaken: so doth the lion-will wish
itself.

Free from the happiness of slaves, redeemed from Deities and adorations,
fearless and fear-ins