by Voltaire
With these words, he gave the fisherman half the money he had brought from Arabia; and the fisherman, in astonishment and delight, kissed the feet of Cador’s friend, and said:
‘You are an angel sent to save me!’
Zadig, however, kept asking for news, and shedding tears.
‘How is this, my lord?’ exclaimed the fisherman. ‘Can it be that you are just as unhappy, you who do so much good?’
‘A hundred times more unhappy than you are,’ replied Zadig.
‘But how can it be,’ said the worthy fellow, ‘that the man who gives should be in greater need of pity than the man who receives?’
‘It’s because your greatest misfortune is mere want,’ replied Zadig, ‘whereas my unhappiness is at my heart.’
‘Can it be that Orcan has run off with your wife?’ asked the fisherman.
The question recalled to Zadig’s mind all his adventures, and he ran over the list of his misfortunes beginning with the Queen’s bitch till his arrival at Argobad’s castle.
‘Yes,’ said he to the fisherman, ‘Orcan deserves punishing; but it is usually such men who are Fortune’s favourites. However, go to Lord Cador’s and wait for me.’
They then parted company. The fisherman walked away thanking his stars, and Zadig ran off cursing his.
CHAPTER 16
THE COCKATRICE
HE came to a beautiful meadow, and there he saw several women looking for something with absorbed attention. He took the liberty of approaching one of them, and asked whether he might have the honour of helping them in their search.
‘Take care you don’t,’ replied the Syrian woman. ‘What we are looking for can only be touched by women.’
‘How very strange!’ said Zadig. ‘Dare I beg you to tell me what it is that only women are allowed to touch?’
‘It’s a cockatrice,’ she said.
‘A cockatrice, Madam? And may I ask why you are looking for a cockatrice?’
‘It’s for Ogul, our lord and master, whose castle you see on the banks of that river at the bottom of the meadow. We are his humble slaves. Lord Ogul is ill; his doctor has ordered him to eat a cockatrice cooked in rose-water; and as it is a very rare creature, which never lets itself be caught except by women, Lord Ogul has promised to take as his beloved wife the one that brings him a cockatrice. Let me go on looking, if you please; for you see what I should lose if the others should steal a march on me.’
Zadig left the Syrian woman and her companions searching for their cockatrice, and resumed his way through the meadow. On the bank of a little stream he found another lady, seated on the grass, who was not searching for anything; she seemed of noble bearing, although her face was hidden by a veil. She was leaning over the stream, and deep sighs kept breaking from her lips. In her hand she held a little stick with which she was tracing letters in the fine sand which lay between the grass and the stream. Zadig was curious to see what this woman was writing. He drew near, and saw to his surprise the letter z and then an A; a D followed, and he started with excitement. Never was anyone so astonished as he when he saw the last two letters of his own name. He stood transfixed for some moments; then, breaking the silence, with faltering voice he said:
‘Forgive a stranger in misfortune, noble lady, for daring to ask you by what amazing chance I find the name of Zadig here, traced by your divine hand?’
His voice and the words he uttered roused the lady. Lifting her veil with a trembling hand, she looked at Zadig, and uttering a tender cry of joy mingled with surprise, she yielded to all the varied emotions which beset her and fell fainting into his arms. It was Astarte herself, the Queen of Babylon whom Zadig both adored and reproached himself for adoring; it was she for whom he had shed so many tears, and for whose fate he had been so deeply concerned. For a moment he felt stunned; and when he once more fixed his gaze upon Astarte’s eyes, which opened with a confused yet tender look of weariness, he cried aloud:
‘Ye Immortal Powers, who preside over the destinies of frail humanity, can it be that you have restored Astarte to me? Or am I dreaming the moment, the place, the very state in which I sec her?’
He threw himself upon his knees before Astarte, and prostrated himself in the dust at her feet. The Queen of Babylon raised him up, and made him sit beside her on the bank of the stream; more than once she wiped away the tears from his eyes. Twenty times she tried to speak, but was constantly interrupted by his sighs. She questioned him on the happy chance which had reunited them, but repeatedly broke in on his replies with further questions. She began to tell him about her misfortunes, and then desired to hear of his. When at last they had both quietened the transport of their feelings, Zadig related to her in a few words how he came to be in the meadow.
‘But how is it,’ he continued, ‘that I find my unfortunate and revered Queen in this lonely place, dressed as a slave, and in the company of other slaves who are searching for a cockatrice to be cooked in rose-water on a doctor’s prescription?’
‘While they are searching for their cockatrice,’ said the beautiful Astarte, ‘I will tell you all that I have suffered, for all of which I forgive the heavenly powers now that I see you once more. You know that the King my husband disliked you for being the most agreeable of men; and that was why he resolved one night to have you strangled and me poisoned. You know how Heaven allowed my little dumb servant to warn me of the orders of His Supreme Majesty. The faithful Cador had scarcely compelled you to obey me and depart, when he ventured to enter my apartments by a secret entrance at dead of night. He carried me off and led me to the Temple of Ormuzd, where the priest his brother hid me in that huge statue whose base touches the foundations of the Temple and whose head reaches the roof. It was as though I were buried alive there, but I was attended by the priest, and I lacked nothing that was necessary. Meanwhile at daybreak His Majesty’s apothecary entered my bedchamber with a potion of henbane, opium, hemlock, black hellebore, and aconite; and another officer went to your house with a noose of blue silk. There was no one to be found. To deceive the King more successfully, Cador pretended to come and accuse us both. He said that you had gone towards India and that I had set out in the direction of Memphis; assassins were accordingly sent after both of us.
‘The messengers who were looking for me did not know me by sight. I had scarcely ever unveiled myself, except only to you, in the presence of my husband and at his orders. They went off in pursuit of me with a sketch of my appearance which had been made for them. A woman of the same height, and perhaps with greater charms, was noticed on the frontiers of Egypt; she was wandering about in tears. Having no doubt that this woman was the Queen of Babylon, they brought her to Moabdar. The first effect of their mistake was to put the King into a violent rage; but on a closer inspection of the woman, he found her decidedly beautiful and was appeased. She was called Missouf. I have since been told that in the Egyptian language her name means “the pretty wanton”. That was what she turned out to be. But with all her whims, she was clever too, and she captivated Moabdar and inveigled him into making her his wife. From that moment her character was completely revealed, and she recklessly indulged all the most foolish whims she could think of. She determined that the Chief Mage should dance before her, though he was old and troubled with the gout; and when he refused, she persecuted him outrageously. She commanded her Master of the Horse to make her a jam tart. It was no good for the Master of the Horse to point out that he wasn’t a pastrycook; he had to make the tart; and he was dismissed because it was overcooked. She gave the office of Master of the Horse to her dwarf, and the post of Chancellor to a page. That was how she governed Babylon. Everyone missed me. The King, who had been a kindly man until he decided to have me poisoned and you strangled, seemed to have lost all sense of duty in his overwhelming love for the pretty wanton. He came to the Temple at the festival of the sacred flame. I saw him implore the Gods for Missouf at the feet of the statue where I was concealed; I lifted up my voice and cried to him : “The God
s reject the vows of a King turned tyrant, who has plotted the death of a sensible wife to marry a madcap!” Moabdar was so dumbfounded at these words that his mind became disordered. The oracle that I had uttered and the tyranny practised by Missouf deprived him of his reason; he went mad a few days later.
‘His madness, which seemed a punishment from Heaven, was the signal for revolt. The people rose in insurrection and rushed to arms. Babylon, which had so long been steeped in effeminate idleness, became the scene of a terrible civil war. I was taken from the hollow of my statue and set at the head of a faction. Cador hurried to Memphis to bring you back to Babylon. The Prince of Hyrcania heard the melancholy news and came with his army to make a third faction in Chaldea. He attacked the King, who fled before him with his madcap Egyptian. Moabdar died of the wounds he received, and Missouf fell into the hands of the conqueror.
‘It was my misfortune to be captured by a detachment of Hyrcanians and led before the Prince at the very same time as Missouf was brought into his presence. You will no doubt be pleased to learn that the Prince found me more beautiful than the Egyptian; but you will be vexed to hear that he consigned me to his harem. He boldly informed me that, when he had completed a military expedition on which he was engaged, he would come back to me. You can imagine my grief. The ties which bound me to Moabdar were broken, I was free to be Zadig’s, but I was in the power of a barbarian. I answered him with all the loftiness of my rank and feelings. I had always heard that Heaven invests the nobly-born with an air of grandeur which, at a word or a look, can humble any rash creatures who dare show the least disrespect. I spoke as a Queen; but I was treated as a handmaid. The Hyrcanian did not even deign to answer me, but said to his black eunuch that, though I was pert, he thought I was pretty; and he ordered him to take care of me and put me on the same diet as his favourite mistresses so as to improve my complexion and make me worthy of his favours at such time as he chose to honour me with them. I told him I would rather die. He laughingly replied that he was used to such expressions – people did not take their lives; and he left me as casually as a man who has just added a parrot to his collection. What a situation for the most noble queen in the whole world, and, I will add, for the heart which belonged to Zadig!’
At these words he threw himself at her feet, and bathed them with his tears. Astarte tenderly raised him, and continued in these words:
‘I saw that I was in the power of a barbarian, and the rival of a fool with whom I was imprisoned. She told me the story of her adventures in Egypt. I decided from the way she described you, the time, the dromedary you were riding, and from all the circumstances, that it was indeed Zadig who had fought for her. I have no doubt that you were at Memphis, and I determined to get there. “Lovely Missouf,” said I, “you are much more amusing than I am; you will afford the Prince of Hyrcania much more diversion than I can. Help me to escape, and you will reign alone. You will make me happy, while you rid yourself of a rival.” Missouf arranged with me how I was to escape, and I departed secretly with an Egyptian slave.
‘I had almost reached Arabia, when a notorious brigand called Argobad carried me off and sold me to some merchants, who brought me to this castle where Lord Ogul lives. He bought me without knowing who I was. This Ogul is given up to sensuality. His only interest is in gross living, and he believes that God sent him into the world for nothing but the pleasures of the table. He is so extremely corpulent as to be always in danger of suffocation. His doctor has little authority over him when his digestion is working, but rules him despotically when he has eaten too much. He has persuaded him that he could cure him with a cockatrice cooked in rose-water. Lord Ogul has promised to marry whichever one of his slaves brings him a cockatrice. You notice that I am unconcerned at their eager contest for this honour. I never had less desire to find this cockatrice than since Heaven has permitted me to see you once more.’
Astarte and Zadig then gave expression to everything that feelings so long restrained, everything that misfortune and love, could inspire in the noblest and most impassioned breasts; and the spirits which preside over human love carried their words up to the crystal sphere of Venus.
The women returned to Ogul’s castle without finding anything. Zadig presented himself, and spoke to Ogul in these words:
‘May everlasting Health descend from heaven to take you under her care! I am a doctor. I made haste to come here when I heard of your illness, and I have brought you a cockatrice cooked in rose-water. I don’t aspire to marry you. All I ask is freedom for a young slave from Babylon whom you have had for several days; and I consent to remain in slavery in her place, if I do not have the good fortune to cure Lord Ogul the Magnificent.’
The proposal was accepted. Astarte left for Babylon with Zadig’s servant, and promised to send a messenger frequently to inform him of everything that happened. Their farewells were as tender as their reunion had been. The moment of reunion and the moment of separation are the two greatest crises of life; so it is written in the Great Book of Zend. Zadig loved the Queen as much as he protested, and the Queen loved Zadig more than she acknowledged.
Zadig then spoke to Ogul as follows :
‘My lord, my cockatrice is not to be eaten. Its healing quality must enter your body through the pores. I have placed it in a little bladder which has been inflated and covered with a fine skin. You must strike this bladder with all your might, and I will send it back to you repeatedly; a few days of this treatment will show you what my skill can do.’
The first day Ogul was quite out of breath, and thought he would die of fatigue. The second day he was less tired, and slept better. In a week he recovered all the strength, health, nimbleness, and gaiety of his most robust years.
‘You have played with a balloon, and you have been moderate in your food,’ said Zadig. ‘Understand that there is no such thing as a cockatrice, and that a man can always keep well with moderation and exercise. Good health and intemperance cannot subsist together. The idea is as fantastic as the philosophers’ stone, or astrology, or the theology of the mages.’
Ogul’s principal physician recognized that here was a man dangerous to the interests of medicine, so he plotted with the apothecary to send Zadig to look for cockatrices in the other world. Thus, having always been punished for well-doing, he was on the point of destruction for having cured a noble glutton. He was invited to an excellent dinner, and was to have been poisoned during the second course; but during the first he received a message from Astarte, at which he left the table and departed. When a man is loved by a beautiful woman, said the great Zoroaster, he always gets out of trouble.
CHAPTER 17
THE TOURNAMENT
THE Queen had been received in Babylon with the enthusiasm always shown to a beautiful princess who has been unhappy. Babylon now seemed to be more peaceful. The Prince of Hyrcania had been killed in a fight, and the victorious Babylonians declared that Astarte should marry whoever was chosen as sovereign. No one wanted the most important position in the world, that of Astarte’s husband and King of Babylon, to depend upon intrigue and faction; and all swore to acknowledge as king the man possessed of the greatest wisdom and the greatest valour. A huge tiltyard was made a few miles from the town, and was surrounded by amphitheatres magnificently decorated. Here the combatants were to repair in full armour. Behind the amphitheatres each was to have a separate apartment where he could be neither seen nor recognized by anyone. Each combatant had to encounter four knights. Those who were lucky enough to conquer all four were then to joust with each other, so that whoever was left master of the field should be proclaimed victor of the tournament. He must then return four days later with the same arms and solve the riddles propounded by the mages. If he did not solve the riddles, he did not become king, and the tournament was to be resumed until a man was found triumphant in both these contests; for they were absolutely determined to have as king the wisest of men as well as the most valiant. The Queen meanwhile was to be strictly guarded. Her face
covered by a veil, she was to be allowed only to watch the games but not to speak to any of the claimants, so that there should be neither favour nor injustice.
That was what Astarte made known to her lover in the hope that he would show for her more valour and wit than any other man. He departed with a prayer to Venus to fortify his courage and clarify his wit, and reached the banks of the Euphrates on the eve of this great day. He had his device inscribed with those of the other combatants but concealed his face and name, as the law decreed. He then went to rest himself in the apartment which fell to him by lot. His friend Cador, who had returned to Babylon after fruitlessly searching for him in Egypt, had a complete suit of armour conveyed to his room from the Queen. He also sent him on his own behalf the finest horse in Persia. Zadig recognized the hand of Astarte in these presents, and from them his courage and his love derived new strength and new hope.
The following day, when the Queen had taken her place under a jewelled canopy and the amphitheatres were filled with all the ladies and all the ranks of Babylon, the combatants appeared in the arena. Each proceeded to place his device at the feet of the Archimage. The devices were drawn by lots, and Zadig’s was drawn last. The first to advance was a wealthy nobleman called Itobad, who was inordinately vain, rather timid, very clumsy, and stupid. His servants had persuaded him that such a man as he ought to be king, and he was in complete agreement. He was therefore resplendent from head to foot in a suit of gold enamelled with green; his plume was green, and his lance was decked with green ribbons. It was clear from the way Itobad managed his horse that it was not for such a man as he that Heaven had destined the sceptre of Babylon. The first knight to charge unsaddled him, and the second overturned him on the buttocks of his horse with his legs in the air and his arms extended. Itobad recovered himself, but in such an awkward way as to set the whole amphitheatre laughing. The third knight did not condescend to use his lance, but made a thrust at him and caught him by the right leg, made him turn about, and brought him tumbling on to the sand. The attendant squires ran up to him laughing, and put him back in his saddle. The fourth knight took him by the left leg and sent him flying on the other side. He was led back amid scornful shouts to his apartment, where by law he had to pass the night. As he hobbled along he said to himself : ‘What an unlucky accident for such a man as I.’