312 THUS SPAKE ZARATHUSTRA, III
And thy last greatness, O my will, spare for thy last, in order to be inexorable in thy victory ! Alas, who was not conquered by his victory !
Alas ! whose eye did not grow dim in this drunken dawn ? Alas ! whose foot did not stagger and forget how to stand in victory !
That one day I may be ready and ripe in the great noon ; ready and ripe like glowing ore, like a cloud pregnant with a lightning, and a swelling milk-udder;
Ready unto myself and unto my most secret will ; a bow eager for its arrow ; an arrow eager for its star;
A star, ready and ripe in its noon, glowing, perfo- rated, blessed with destroying arrows of the sun.
A sun himself and an inexorable will of a sun, ready for destroying in victory !
O will, thou change of all needs, thou my necessity ! Reserve me for one great victory ! "
Thus spake Zarathustra.
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