AT NOON
And Zarathustra ran, and still ran, finding no one else, and was alone ever finding himself again. And he enjoyed and sipped his loneliness, thinking of good things, through many hours. But about the hour of noon, when the sun stood exactly over Zara- thustra's head, he passed by an old crooked and knaggy tree which was embraced round about by the rich love of a vine-plant and hidden from itself. From it an abundance of yellow grapes hung down, offering them- selves unto the wanderer. Then he felt a desire to quench a little thirst and to break off a grape. When he had stretched out his arm for it, he felt a still stronger desire for something else, to lie down beside the tree, about the hour of perfect noon, and to sleep.
Zarathustra did so. And no sooner did he lie down on the ground, in the stillness and secrecy of the many-coloured grass, than he forgot his little thirst and fell asleep. For, as Zarathustra's saying hath it: "One thing is more necessary than the other." Only his eyes remained open. For they could not satisfy themselves with looking at the tree, and at the love
2D 401
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