The Soothsayer's Warning — Thus Spoke Zarathustra

The next day Zarathustra sits outside his cave drawing shadows in the dirt. Suddenly he sees another shadow beside his own. The soothsayer stands there, the same gloomy guest who once preached that nothing matters and knowledge chokes life. His face looks darker now, full of ash-colored lightning.

They greet each other and eat together. The soothsayer warns that high waters of distress will soon lift Zarathustra's boat off dry land. He says he hears a long cry from the depths, the voice of the higher man calling for help. He names Zarathustra's last sin: pity. At first Zarathustra trembles, then he shakes off the despair like a wet dog.

He refuses the soothsayer's claim that happy islands are gone forever. He decides to search the forest for whoever is crying. The soothsayer smiles and says he will wait in the cave until evening, heavy as a block. Zarathustra shouts back that the guest may lick the honey and dance later to his songs. The cry keeps sounding, longer and nearer, until Zarathustra must answer it himself. He tells the soothsayer three times no: happy islands still exist. Pity, the soothsayer says, is the sin that will finally pull him down.