1 86 THUS SPAKE ZARATHUSTRA, II
of revolution, of which not only little old women are afraid.
'Come up, fiery dog, out of thy depth!' I shouted, ' and confess how deep that depth is ! Whence cometh what thou snortest up ?
Thou drinkest enough at the sea ; that is betrayed by thy salt eloquence ! Verily, considering that thou art a dog of the depth thou takest thy food too much from the surface !
At the highest I regard thee as a ventriloquist of earth, and whenever I heard devils of revolution and casting out speak, I found them to be like thee : salt, deceitful, and shallow.
Ye understand how to roar and to darken with ashes ! Ye are the best swaggerers and have suffi- ciently learnt the art of heating mud.
Wherever ye are, there must mud be nigh, and many mud-like, hollow, squeezed-in things. They seek to get into freedom.
"Freedom" all of you like best to shout. But I have lost my belief in " great events," whenever much shouting and smoke are round them.
And believe me, friend Hellish Noise ! The great- est events are not our loudest but our stillest hours.
The world doth not revolve round the inventors of new noise, but round the inventors of new values ; inaudibly it turneth.
And now confess ! Little had actually happened
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