k unto me of my gardens, of my Happy Isles, of my new beautiful
race--why do ye not speak unto me thereof?

This guests'-present do I solicit of your love, that ye speak unto me of
my children. For them am I rich, for them I became poor: what have I not
surrendered,

--What would I not surrender that I might have one thing: THESE
children, THIS living plantation, THESE life-trees of my will and of my
highest hope!"

Thus spake Zarathustra, and stopped suddenly in his discourse: for his
longing came over him, and he closed his eyes and his mouth, because
of the agitation of his heart. And all his guests also were silent, and
stood still and confounded: except only that the old soothsayer made
signs with his hands and his gestures.

LXXII. THE SUPPER.

For at this point the soothsayer interrupted the greeting of Zarathustra
and his guests: he pressed forward as one who had no time to lose,
seized Zarathustra's hand and exclaimed: "But Zarathustra!

One thing is more necessary than the other, so sayest thou thyself:
well, one thing is now more necessary UNTO ME than all others.

A word at the right time: didst thou not invite me to TABLE? And here
are many who have made long journeys. Thou dost not mean to feed us
merely with discourses?

Besides, all of you have thought too much about freezing, drowning,
suffocating, and other bodily dangers: none of you, however, have
thought of MY danger, namely, perishing of hunger-"

(Thus spake the soothsayer. When Zarathustra's animals, however, heard
these words, they ran away in terror. For they saw that all they
had brought home during the day would not be enough to fill the one
soothsayer.)

"Likewise perishing of thirst," continued the soothsayer. "And although
I hear water splashing here like words of wisdom--that is to say,
plenteously and unweariedly, I--want WINE!

Not every one is a born water-drinker like Zarathustra. Neither doth
water suit weary and withered ones: WE deserve wine--IT alone giveth
immediate vigour and improvised health!"

On this occasion, when the soothsayer was longing for wine, it happened
that the king on the left, the silent one, also found expression for
once. "WE took care," said he, "about wine, I, along with my brother the
king on the right: we have enough of wine,--a whole ass-load of it. So
there is nothing lacking but bread."

"Bread," replied Zarathustra, laughing when he spake, "it is precisely
bread that anchorites h