THE WIZARD
I
But when Zarathustra had gone round a rock he saw not far below him on the same road as himself a man who threw his limbs about like a madman, and at last fell down to the ground upon his stomach. "Halt!" then said Zarathustra unto his heart. "The man there seemeth to be the higher man; from him came that horrid cry for help. I will see whether I can be of any help." But when he came unto the place where the man lay on the ground, he found a trembling old man with his eyes fixed. And although Zarathustra took all the pains he could to get him up and put him on his legs again, it was in vain. The unhappy one seemed not to notice that anybody was by his side. On the contrary, he continually looked round with moving gestures, like one forsaken and left solitary by all the world. But at last, with much trembling, twitching, and curling himself up, he began thus to lament:
"Who warmeth me, who loveth me still?
Give hot hands!
Give heart's coal-pans!
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