But—one could now object—the “is” is certainly meant in [69|106] a manifold way. But that has nothing at all to do with the “is” itself; it simply depends on the manifold contents of the assertions, whose contents refer in each case to a different being: God, earth, cup, peasant, book, famine, peace over the peaks. It is only because the “is” in itself remains indeterminate and empty in its meaning that it can lie ready for such a manifold use, and can fill and determine itself “according to the situation.” The manifoldness of determinate meanings we have cited thus proves the opposite of what we were trying to show. It just proves as clearly as possible that Being must be indeterminate in order to be susceptible to determination.

What are we to say in reply? Here we are entering the domain of a decisive question: does the “is” become manifold on the basis of the content of the sentence that is attached to it in each case, i.e. on the basis of the domain of that about which the sentences are making assertions—or does the “is,” i.e. Being, contain in itself the manifoldness whose folding makes it possible for us to make manifold beings accessible to ourselves in the first place, each as it is? For now, let this question simply be posed. We are not yet sufficiently equipped to develop it further. What cannot be denied, and the only point we would like to make for now, is this: the “is” evinces, in its saying, a rich manifoldness of meanings. We always say the “is” in one of these meanings, although neither before nor after this saying do we carry out a special interpretation of the “is,” much less meditate on Being. The “is,” meant now this way and now that, simply wells up in our saying. And yet the manifoldness of its meanings is not arbitrary. We now want to convince ourselves of this.

Let us count up one by one the various meanings that we have interpreted by paraphrase. The “to be” said in the “is” signifies: