Page:Thus Spake Zarathustra - Alexander Tille - 1896.djvu/401

 THE WIZARD 367

Wag love unto thee with the tail, Giving myself, in eager franzy?

In vain !

Sting on !

Cruellest of stings !

Not a dog thy game merely am I,

Cruellest of huntsmen !

Thy proudest prisoner,

Thou robber behind the clouds. ..

Speak at last !

Thou who art veiled in lightnings ! Unknown !

Speak ! What wilt thou, waylayer, from me ?

What ? A ransom ?

What wilt thou ransom ? Demand much ! Thus my pride counselleth ! And be brief ! Thus mine other pride coun- selleth !

Ha! Ha!

Myself wilt thou ? myself ? Myself ? the whole of me ?

Ha! Ha!

And thou torturest me, fool that thou art !

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