Chapter 48 The Morality of Dwarfs, Part Three

I walk among this people with my eyes open: they cannot forgive me for not enviing their morality. They barked at me because I said to them: Little morality is necessary for dwarves—because I never understood that the existence of dwarves is necessary. Here I am, like a rooster in a strange feedlot, and the hens peck me; but I hold no grudge against them for that. I am as polite to them as I am to little annoyances; I think it is the wisdom of a hedgehog to put up a spike on a small object. When sitting around the fire in the evening, they all talked about me. — they all speak of me; But no one ever thought about me!

This is the new silence I have just learned: their tumult unfurls a cloak over my thoughts. They cried out to each other: "What does this cloud of sorrow want from us? Be careful that it does not bring us a contagious disease!" Recently a woman seized her child and kept him from approaching me: "Keep the children away," she cried; "these eyes burn the souls of children." They coughed when I spoke; they believed coughing against the gale;--and none of them guessed my happy breath! "We have no time for Zarathustra,"—thus they objected; but what is an age "without time" for Zarathustra worth?

Even if they all praise me: shall I sleep on their praise?Their praise is to me a belt of thorns: even if I loose it, it still stings me. And this is what I learned from the crowd: the praiser pretends to repay, but in fact, he wants more! Ask my feet if they like the music of their praise and flattery!Indeed, it would not dance to the ticking time, nor would it stand still. They try to seduce me by extolling their little virtues; they try to convince my feet with little tick-tocks of happiness. I walked among this people, and opened my eyes: they have become smaller, and will be smaller: - their smaller, by their doctrine of happiness and morality.

For morally they too are humble,—for they want to be at ease.But only the virtue of humility is reconciled with ease. True, they also learn to walk in their own way: this is what I call a limp. --Thus they are a hindrance to all busy people. Many of them looked back with stiff necks as they advanced: I would have bumped them. Feet and eyes should not tell lies, nor should they tell each other lies.But the lies of the gnomes are many. Some of them "willed" and most of them were "willed".Some are honest; most are bad actors. There are unconscious, unwilling actors among them—honest actors are rare, especially honest actors.

They have little masculinity: so women masculinize themselves; only the fully masculine man can save the woman in woman. And this is the worst hypocrisy I have found among them: the Commander also pretends to be the morality of the Server. "I serve, you serve, we serve." - so the hypocrisy of the rulers sings. —How unfortunate if the highest master is only the highest servant! Alas, my curious eyes have found their hypocrisy too; I have guessed the happiness of their flies and the camp on the sun-lit windows. Where there is an abundance of kindness, I see an equal amount of weakness.Where there is much justice and mercy, I have seen the same amount of weakness.

Their mutual smoothness, fairness and deliberation are like smooth round grains, fairness and deliberation. Choose a little happiness humbly—this is what they call "safety"!At the same time, they have already modestly glanced sideways at another little happiness. In their stupidity, they want one thing most sincerely: that other people do not violate them.So they are considerate and good at dealing with others. But this is cowardice, although it is also called "morality". When the dwarves happened to speak roughly, I heard nothing but their cries,--for every gust of wind made their voices hoarse.

They are cunning, their virtues have delicate fingers, but they have no fists: their fingers do not know how to bend into a fist. They think that morality can be tamed by all modesty: thus they make wolves into dogs, and men into the best domestic animals. "We put the chairs in the middle,"—their contented smiles told me:—"at the same distance between the dying gladiators and the happy piggies." But this is mediocrity: although this is also called temperance. ——