I name you three metamorphoses of the spirit: how the spirit becomes a camel, the camel a lion, and the lion at last a child.

There are many heavy things for the spirit, for the strong and robust spirit which is full of respect: its strength demands the heaviest and the heaviest-laden burden.

What is heavy? asks the robust spirit; it kneels down like the camel and wants to be well laden.

What is the heaviest thing of all, you heroes? asks the robust spirit, that I may take it upon myself and rejoice in my strength.

Is it not to humble oneself so as to wound one's pride? To let one's folly shine so as to mock one's wisdom?

Or is it to leave our cause when it celebrates its victory? To climb high mountains to tempt the tempter?

Or is it to feed on the acorns and grass of knowledge and suffer the hunger of the soul for the sake of truth?

Or is it to be sick and send away those who would comfort us, and make friends with deaf people who never hear what we want?

Or is it to descend into dirty water, if it is the water of truth, and not push away from us either the cold frogs or the hot toads?

Or is it to love those who despise us and hold out our hand to the phantom that wants to frighten us?

All these heaviest things the robust spirit takes upon itself: like the camel that hastens into the desert, laden with its burden, so it hastens into its desert.

But in the loneliest desert the second metamorphosis takes place: the spirit becomes a lion, it wants to conquer freedom and be master in its own desert.

It seeks there its last master: it wants to become his enemy as it is the enemy of its God; it wants to struggle for victory with the great dragon.

What is the great dragon that the spirit will no longer call God or master? \xab Thou shalt \xbb is the name of the great dragon. But the spirit of the lion says \xab I will \xbb.

\xab Thou shalt \xbb lies in its path, covered with scales that shine like gold, and on every scale \xab Thou shalt \xbb shines.

Millennial values shine on these scales, and the most powerful of all dragons speaks thus: \xab All value shines on me. \xbb

\xab All value has already been created, and I represent all created value. In truth, there shall be no more \xab I will \xbb! \xbb Thus speaks the dragon.

My brothers, why must there be the lion in the spirit? Why is not the beast of burden which renounces and reveres enough?

To create new values—even the lion is not capable of that: but to conquer freedom for a new creation—that is what the lion is capable of.

To conquer the right to new values—that is the most formidable conquest for a patient and revering spirit. In truth, it seems to it a theft and the work of a beast of prey.

It once loved its \xab Thou shalt \xbb as its most holy thing: now it must find illusion and arbitrariness even in the most holy thing; it must steal freedom from what it loves: for this robbery the lion is made.

But tell me, my brothers, what can the child do that the lion could not do? Why must the fierce lion become a child?

The child is innocence and oblivion, a new beginning, a game, a wheel rolling out of itself, a first movement, a holy affirmation.

Yes, for the game of creation, my brothers, a holy affirmation is needed: the spirit now wills its own will, he who has lost the world wants to conquer his world.

I have named to you three metamorphoses of the spirit: how the spirit became a camel, the camel a lion, and the lion at last a child.

Thus spoke Zarathustra.