Friend: But you’re not going to deny that the love of truth which lies in us
Master: But the love of beauty and the love of pleasure lie in us too. My dear chap, you busy yourself with science and I with hunting, but which is the more important is not for us to decide. I have lost the measure of importance and, thank God! I can do whatever comes into my mind without pangs of conscience. You understand, we’ve wasted what is most valuable of our heritage from our ancestors: credible knowledge and sound ethics. Ah! these lovely sisters, these attentive slaves we’ve gambled away for that old rake, Scepticism!—But they have left us, with other old stuff, their garments, their grand motley garments, so-called “phrases” and “poses.” Yes, my friend, it’s sad, but it’s so: there are only phrases and poses left to us. But still, it’s good that there’s something left: we can divert ourselves with these beautiful rags and remember those who were clad in them, whom they made so charming. To confound you with the charm of the expression, I say, “Let not these rags lie unused in the wardrobe of our affliction!”
