The Higher Men Gather — Thus Spoke Zarathustra

Late in the afternoon Zarathustra comes home and hears a cry of distress from his own cave. Inside he finds every strange guest he met that day: two kings, the pope, the magician, the beggar, the shadow, the scholar, the soothsayer, the ugliest man, and even the ass. The ugliest man wears a crown and purple like a mock king.

Zarathustra welcomes them with jokes and hospitality. He says his animals will serve them and his cave is safe. Yet he also speaks plainly: these are not the people he has been waiting for in the mountains. They are higher than the crowd, but still too weak, too wounded, and too fond of their own despair. They are bridges, not heirs.

He says he waits for laughing lions, stronger and merrier souls who can carry his teaching forward. He longs to hear of his children and his happy islands, not only of suffering men. His heart swells with longing, and the room falls silent while the old soothsayer begins to make signs with his hands. One king says many hidden lonely ones now ask whether Zarathustra still lives. He steps back when a king tries to kiss his hand, then returns and speaks even more plainly.