In this chapter, Zarathustra presents a discourse on the nature and complexities of friendship. He delves into the relationship between the self and others, examining the roles of solitude, intimacy, and opposition within friendships.

He begins by referencing the thoughts of a hermit who finds that even one companion is too many, as solitude is preferred. The hermit muses that “I and Me” are always in eager conversation, suggesting an introspective dialogue that occupies the solitary individual. However, Zarathustra acknowledges that a friend serves as a crucial third party—the “cork” that prevents the conversation between “I and Me” from sinking into the depths.

He reflects on the deep yearning hermits have for friendship due to their numerous inner “depths”. The longing for a friend reveals one’s aspirations and what one wishes to believe about oneself. Zarathustra notes that sometimes love is sought to overcome envy, and enmity is embraced to conceal one’s vulnerabilities. He asserts that to have a friend, one must be willing to fight for them, and to engage in such conflict, one must be capable of enmity. Honoring the adversarial aspect within a friend is essential; one should be able to approach a friend closely without overstepping boundaries. The best friend is also one’s best enemy, and resistance can bring hearts closer.

He discusses the concept of authenticity in friendships, questioning whether one should present oneself without any guise. While it might seem honorable to reveal oneself entirely to a friend, such complete openness may provoke discomfort or even animosity.

Emphasizing the inspirational role a friend should play, he advises presenting oneself attractively to be “an arrow and a longing for the Übermensch” to one’s friend.

He poses the question of whether one has observed a friend asleep to truly understand their nature, describing a friend’s face as one’s own reflected in an imperfect mirror. This observation leads to the notion that humanity is something to be surpassed. In friendship, one should excel in intuition and silence, recognizing that not everything needs to be known or expressed. Compassion toward a friend should be discerning, offered only if the friend desires it, and should be tempered to maintain its subtlety.

Zarathustra explores the idea of being a source of sustenance and healing to a friend, asking if one can be “pure air and solitude and bread and medicine.” Some individuals cannot free themselves from their own constraints but can still act as redeemers for their friends. He asserts that those who are slaves cannot be friends, and tyrants cannot have friends, as these roles preclude the mutual respect and equality necessary for true friendship.

Addressing women, Zarathustra remarks that historically, both a slave and a tyrant have been hidden within them, making them incapable of friendship—they know only love. He characterizes women’s love as containing injustice and blindness toward all they do not love, with elements of unpredictability and darkness alongside enlightenment. He likens women to cats, birds, or, at best, cows, suggesting an inherent inconsistency or limitation in their capacity for friendship.

Turning back to men, he questions who among them is truly capable of friendship, criticizing their spiritual poverty and stinginess. Zarathustra declares that the amount men offer to their friends he would give even to his enemies without feeling diminished. He distinguishes between mere comradeship and genuine friendship, expressing a wish for the latter’s realization.