THE WIZARD 369
And the last flame of my heart Up it gloweth unto thee ! Oh, come back, Mine unknown God, my pain! My last happiness ! . . ."
��But then Zarathustra could no longer restrain him- self, but took his stick and, with all his might, struck the wailing one. " Stop," he cried unto him, with wrathful laughter. "Stop, thou actor! Thou false coiner ! Thou liar from the bottom ! I know thee well!
I shall make thy legs hot, thou evil wizard ! I understand well how to make it hot for such as thou art ! "
" Cease," said the old man, and leaped from the ground ; " strike no more, O Zarathustra ! I did it merely for fun !
Such things are part of mine art. Thyself I in- tended to try, when I gave thee this sample ! And, verily, thou hast well found me out !
But even thou hast given me no small sample of thyself. Thou art hard, thou wise Zarathustra! Hard thou strikest with thy 'truths.' Thy stick forceth this truth to come out of me ! "
" Flatter not," said Zarathustra, still excited and
�� �
