18. O

18. O my brethren, there are tables which weariness framed, and tables which slothfulness framed, corrupt slothfulness: although they speak similarly, they want to be heard differently.— See this languishing one! Only a span-breadth is he from his goal; but from weariness hath he lain down obstinately in the dust, this brave one! From weariness yawneth he at the path, at the earth, at the goal, and at himself: not a step further will he go,—this brave one! Now gloweth the sun upon him, and the dogs lick at his sweat: but he lieth there in his obstinacy and preferreth to languish:— —A span-breadth from his goal, to languish! Verily, ye will have to drag him into his heaven by the hair of his head—this hero! Better still that ye let him lie where he hath lain down, that sleep may come unto him, the comforter, with cooling patter-rain. Let him lie, until of his own accord he awakeneth,—until of his own accord he repudiateth all weariness, and what weariness hath taught through him! Only, my brethren, see that ye scare the dogs away from him, the idle skulkers, and all the swarming vermin:— —All the swarming vermin of the “cultured,” that—feast on the sweat of every hero!—