Zarathustra slept long; and not only the rosy dawn passed over his head, but also the morning. At last, however, his eyes opened, and amazedly he gazed into the forest and the stillness, amazedly he gazed into himself. Then he arose quickly, like a seafarer who all at once sees the land; and he shouted for joy: for he saw a new truth. And he spoke thus to his heart:
A light has dawned on me: I need companions—living ones; not dead companions and corpses, which I carry with me where I will.
But I need living companions, who will follow me because they want to follow themselves—and to the place where I will.
A light has dawned on me. Zarathustra is not to speak to the people, but to companions! Zarathustra shall not be the herd’s herdsman and hound!
To allure many from the herd—for that purpose I have come. The people and the herd must be angry with me: Zarathustra shall be called a robber by the herdsmen.