THE FORTUNE-TELLER
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��Thus heard Zarathustra a fortune-teller say ; and the prophecy touched his heart and changed him. He went about dreary and weary; and he became like those of whom the fortune-teller had spoken.
"Verily," said he unto his disciples, "yet a little while, and then cometh that long twilight. Alas, how can I save my light beyond it !
Would that it were not extinguished in that sad- ness ! For it is meant to be a light for still remoter worlds, and for the remotest nights ! "
Thus afflicted Zarathustra went about. And for three days he did not take any drink or food ; he had no rest and lost his speech. At last it came to pass that he fell into a deep sleep. But his disciples sat around him in long night-watches and waited sorrow- ing, to see whether he would awake and speak again and recover from his affliction.
This is the speech which Zarathustra made when he awoke. But his voice sounded unto his disciples as though it came from a far distance.
"Now listen unto the dream I dreamt, ye friends, and help me to find out its sense !
A riddle it is still for me, that dream. Its sense is hidden within it and caught in it, and flieth not yet over it with free wings.
I dreamt I had renounced all life. I had become a night watchman and grave watchman, there on the lonely castle of death in the mountains.
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