But the morning after that night Zarathustra jumped up from his couch, girded his loins, and stepped out of his cave, glowing and strong, like a morning sun coming from dark mountains.
"Thou great star," he said, as he had said once, !"thou deep eye of happiness, what would be all thy happiness, if thou hadst not those for whom thou shinest !
And if they would remain in their chambers, while thou art awake and comest and givest and distributest, how angry would thy proud shame be at that!
Up ! They sleep still, these higher men, whilst / am awake. They are not my proper companions! Not for them wait I here in my mountains.
Unto my work will I go, unto my day. But they understand not what are the signs of my morning. My step is for them not a call that awaketh them from sleep !
They sleep still in my cave. Their dream drinketh still at my drunken songs. The ear that hearkeneth for me, the obeying ear, is lacking in their limbs."
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