From you would he learn his belief in himself; he feedeth upon your glances, he eateth praise out of your hands.
Your lies doth he even believe when you lie favourably about him: for in its depths sigheth his heart: “What am I?”
And if that be the true virtue which is unconscious of itself—well, the vain man is unconscious of his modesty!—
This is, however, my third manly prudence: I am not put out of conceit with the WICKED by your timorousness.
I am happy to see the marvels the warm sun hatcheth: tigers and palms and rattle-snakes.
Also amongst men there is a beautiful brood of the warm sun, and much that is marvellous in the wicked.
In truth, as your wisest did not seem to me so very wise, so found I also human wickedness below the fame of it.
And oft did I ask with a shake of the head: Why still rattle, ye rattle-snakes?
Verily, there is still a future even for evil! And the warmest south is still undiscovered by man.
How many things are now called the worst wickedness, which are only twelve feet broad and three months long! Some day, however, will greater dragons come into the world.