Beside the bad conscience hath hitherto grown all knowledge! Break up, break up, ye discerning ones, the old tables!

8

When the water hath planks, when gangways and railings o’erspan the stream, verily, he is not believed who then saith: ‘All is in flux.’

But even the simpletons contradict him. ‘What,’ say the simpletons, ‘all in flux? Planks and railings are still over the stream!’

‘Over the stream all is stable, all the values of things, the bridges and bearings, all “good” and “evil”: these are all stable!’

Cometh, however, the hard winter, the stream-tamer, then learn even the wittiest distrust, and verily, not only the simpletons then say: ‘Should not everything—stand still?’

‘Fundamentally standeth everything still’—that is an appropriate winter doctrine, good cheer for an unproductive period, a great comfort for winter-sleepers and fireside-loungers.

‘Fundamentally standeth everything still’—but contrary thereto preacheth the thawing wind!

The thawing wind, a bullock which is no ploughing bullock—a furious bullock, a destroyer, which with angry horns breaketh the ice! The ice however—breaketh gangways!

O my brethren, is not everything at present in flux? Have not all railings and gangways fallen into the water? Who would still hold on to ‘good’ and ‘evil’?

‘Woe to us! Hail to us! The thawing wind bloweth!’ Thus preach, my brethren, through all the streets.’

9

There is an old illusion—it is called good and evil. Around soothsayers and astrologers hath hitherto revolved the orbit of this illusion.

Once did one believe in soothsayers and astrologers; and therefore did one believe: ‘Everything is fate; thou shalt, for thou must!’

Then again did one distrust all soothsayers and astrologers; and therefore did one believe: ‘Everything is freedom; thou canst, for thou willest!’

O my brethren, concerning the stars and the future there hath hitherto been only illusion, and not knowledge; and therefore concerning good and evil there hath hitherto been only illusion and not knowledge!

10

‘Thou shalt not rob! Thou shalt not slay!’—such precepts were once called holy; before them did one bow the knee and the head, and took off one’s shoes.

But I ask you: Where have there ever been better robbers and slayers in the world than such holy precepts?

Is there not even in all life—robbing and slaying? And for such precepts to be called holy, was not truth itself thereby—slain?

Or was it a sermon of death that called holy what contradicted and dissuaded from life? O my brethren, break up, break up for me the old tables!