Chapter 8: Jealousy
Original French
La jalousie.
Le malheur de Zadig vint de son bonheur même, et surtout de son mérite. Il avait tous les jours des entretiens avec le roi et avec Astarté son auguste épouse. Les charmes de sa conversation redoublaient encore par cette envie de plaire qui est à l'esprit ce que la parure est à la beauté; sa jeunesse et ses grâces firent insensiblement sur Astarté une impression dont elle ne s'aperçut pas d'abord. Sa passion croissait dans le sein de l'innocence. Astarté se livrait sans scrupule et sans crainte au plaisir de voir et d'entendre un homme cher à son époux et à l'état; elle ne cessait de le vanter au roi; elle en parlait à ses femmes, qui enchérissaient encore sur ses louanges; tout servait à enfoncer dans son coeur le trait qu'elle ne sentait pas. Elle fesait des présents à Zadig, dans lesquels il entrait plus de galanterie qu'elle ne pensait; elle croyait ne lui parler qu'en reine contente de ses services, et quelquefois ses expressions étaient d'une femme sensible.
Astarté était beaucoup plus belle que cette Sémire qui haïssait tant les borgnes, et que cette autre femme qui avait voulu couper le nez à son époux. La familiarité d'Astarté, ses discours tendres, dont elle commençait à rougir, ses regards, qu'elle voulait détourner, et qui se fixaient sur les siens, allumèrent dans le coeur de Zadig un feu dont il s'étonna. Il combattit; il appela à son secours la philosophie, qui l'avait toujours secouru; il n'en tira que des lumières, et n'en reçut aucun soulagement. Le devoir, la reconnaissance, la majesté souveraine violée, se présentaient à ses yeux comme des dieux vengeurs; il combattait, il triomphait; mais cette victoire, qu'il fallait remporter à tout moment, lui coûtait des gémissements et des larmes. Il n'osait plus parler à la reine avec cette douce liberté qui avait eu tant de charmes pour tous deux: ses yeux se couvraient d'un nuage; ses discours étaient contraints et sans suite: il baissait la vue; et quand, malgré lui, ses regards se tournaient vers Astarté, ils rencontraient ceux de la reine mouillés de pleurs, dont il partait des traits de flamme; ils semblaient se dire l'un à l'autre: Nous nous adorons, et nous craignons de nous aimer; nous brûlons tous deux d'un feu que nous condamnons.
Zadig sortait d'auprès d'elle égaré, éperdu, le coeur surchargé d'un fardeau qu'il ne pouvait plus porter: dans la violence de ses agitations, il laissa pénétrer son secret à son ami Cador, comme un homme qui, ayant soutenu long-temps les atteintes d'une vive douleur, fait enfin connaître son mal par un cri qu'un redoublement aigu lui arrache, et par la sueur froide qui coule sur son front.
Cador lui dit: J'ai déjà démêlé les sentiments que vous vouliez vous cacher à vous-même; les passions ont des signes auxquels on ne peut se méprendre. Jugez, mon cher Zadig, puisque j'ai lu dans votre coeur, si le roi n'y découvrira pas un sentiment qui l'offense. Il n'a d'autre défaut que celui d'être le plus jaloux des hommes. Vous résistez à votre passion avec plus de force que la reine ne combat la sienne, parceque vous êtes philosophe, et parceque vous êtes Zadig. Astarté est femme; elle laisse parler ses regards avec d'autant plus d'imprudence qu'elle ne se croit pas encore coupable. Malheureusement rassurée sur son innocence, elle néglige des dehors nécessaires. Je tremblerai pour elle, tant qu'elle n'aura rien à se reprocher. Si vous étiez d'accord l'un et l'autre, vous sauriez tromper tous les yeux: une passion naissante et combattue éclate; un amour satisfait sait se cacher. Zadig frémit à la proposition de trahir le roi, son bienfaiteur; et jamais il ne fut plus fidèle à son prince que quand il fut coupable envers lui d'un crime involontaire. Cependant la reine prononçait si souvent le nom de Zadig, son front se couvrait de tant de rougeur en le prononçant, elle était tantôt si animée; tantôt si interdite, quand elle lui parlait en présence du roi; une rêverie si profonde s'emparait d'elle quand il était sorti, que le roi fut troublé. Il crut tout ce qu'il voyait, et imagina tout ce qu'il ne voyait point. Il remarqua surtout que les babouches de sa femme étaient bleues, et que les babouches de Zadig étaient bleues, que les rubans de sa femme étaient jaunes, et que le bonnet de Zadig était jaune; c'étaient là de terribles indices pour un prince délicat. Les soupçons se tournèrent en certitude dans son esprit aigri.
Tous les esclaves des rois et des reines sont autant d'espions de leurs coeurs. On pénétra bientôt qu'Astarté était tendre, et que Moabdar était jaloux. L'Envieux engagea l'Envieuse à envoyer au roi sa jarretière, qui ressemblait à celle de la reine. Pour surcroît de malheur, cette jarretière était bleue. Le monarque ne songea plus qu'à la manière de se venger. Il résolut une nuit d'empoisonner la reine, et de faire mourir Zadig par le cordeau au point du jour. L'ordre en fut donné à un impitoyable eunuque, exécuteur de ses vengeances. Il y avait alors dans la chambre du roi un petit nain qui était muet, mais qui n'était pas sourd. On le souffrait toujours: il était témoin de ce qui se passait de plus secret, comme un animal domestique. Ce petit muet était très attaché à la reine et à Zadig. Il entendit, avec autant de surprise que d'horreur, donner l'ordre de leur mort. Mais comment faire pour prévenir cet ordre effroyable, qui allait s'exécuter dans peu d'heures? Il ne savait pas écrire; mais il avait appris à peindre, et savait surtout faire ressembler. Il passa une partie de la nuit à crayonner ce qu'il voulait faire entendre à la reine. Son dessin représentait le roi agité de fureur, dans un coin du tableau, donnant des ordres à son eunuque; un cordeau bleu et un vase sur une table, avec des jarretières bleues et des rubans jaunes; la reine, dans le milieu du tableau, expirante entre les bras de ses femmes; et Zadig étranglé à ses pieds. L'horizon représentait un soleil levant pour marquer que cette horrible exécution devait se faire aux premiers rayons de l'aurore. Dès qu'il eut fini cet ouvrage, il courut chez une femme d'Astarté, la réveilla, et lui fit entendre qu'il fallait dans l'instant même porter ce tableau à la reine.
Cependant, au milieu de la nuit, on vient frapper à la porte de Zadig; on le réveille; on lui donne un billet de la reine; il doute si c'est un songe; il ouvre la lettre d'une main tremblante. Quelle fut sa surprise, et qui pourrait exprimer la consternation et le désespoir dont il fut accablé quand il lut ces paroles: «Fuyez dans l'instant même, ou l'on va vous arracher la vie! Fuyez, Zadig; je vous l'ordonne au nom de notre amour et de mes rubans jaunes. Je n'étais point coupable; mais je sens que je vais mourir criminelle.»
Zadig eut à peine la force de parler. Il ordonna qu'on fît venir Cador; et, sans lui rien dire, il lui donna ce billet. Cador le força d'obéir, et de prendre sur-le-champ la route de Memphis. Si vous osez aller trouver la reine, lui dit-il, vous hâtez sa mort; si vous parlez au roi, vous la perdez encore. Je me charge de sa destinée; suivez la vôtre. Je répandrai le bruit que vous avez pris la route des Indes. Je viendrai bientôt vous trouver, et je vous apprendrai ce qui se sera passé à Babylone.
Cador, dans le moment même, fit placer deux dromadaires des plus légers à la course vers une porte secrète du palais: il y fit monter Zadig, qu'il fallut porter, et qui était près de rendre l'âme. Un seul domestique l'accompagna; et bientôt Cador, plongé dans l'étonnement et dans la douleur, perdit son ami de vue.
Cet illustre fugitif, arrivé sur le bord d'une colline dont on voyait Babylone, tourna la vue sur le palais de la reine, et s'évanouit; il ne reprit ses sens que pour verser des larmes, et pour souhaiter la mort. Enfin, après s'être occupé de la destinée déplorable de la plus aimable des femmes et de la première reine du monde, il fit un moment de retour sur lui-même, et s'écria: Qu'est-ce donc que la vie humaine? O vertu! à quoi m'avez-vous servi? Deux femmes m'ont indignement trompé; la troisième, qui n'est point coupable, et qui est plus belle que les autres, va mourir! Tout ce que j'ai fait de bien a toujours été pour moi une source de malédictions, et je n'ai été élevé au comble de la grandeur que pour tomber dans le plus horrible précipice de l'infortune. Si j'eusse été méchant comme tant d'autres, je serais heureux comme eux. Accablé de ces réflexions funestes, les yeux chargés du voile de la douleur, la pâleur de la mort sur le visage, et l'âme abîmée dans l'excès d'un sombre désespoir, il continuait son voyage vers l'Egypte.
Musean translation
Complete machine-assisted Musean translation made directly from Voltaire’s French in Beuchot’s 1829 edition: Approbation, dedicatory epistle and all twenty-one chapters, including The Dance and Blue Eyes. Voltaire’s notes are retained; later editors’ notes are omitted. Source-language review is recorded with the source witness.
Jealousy.
Zadig’s misfortune sprang from his happiness itself, and above all from his merit. Every day he conversed with the king and with Astarté, his august wife. His conversation gained still more charm from that desire to please which is to wit what adornment is to beauty; his youth and grace gradually made an impression on Astarté of which she was at first unaware. Her passion grew in the shelter of innocence. Without scruple or fear, Astarté gave herself over to the pleasure of seeing and hearing a man dear to her husband and to the state; she never ceased praising him to the king; she spoke of him to her attendants, who outdid her in their praise. Everything drove deeper into her heart the arrow she did not feel. She gave Zadig presents more tenderly suggestive than she supposed; she believed she was speaking to him only as a queen pleased with his services, and sometimes her words were those of a woman in love.
Astarté was far more beautiful than that Sémire who so hated one-eyed men, or that other wife who had wanted to cut off her husband’s nose. Astarté’s familiarity, her tender words, at which she was beginning to blush, her glances, which she meant to turn away but which settled on his, kindled a fire in Zadig’s heart that astonished him. He struggled; he called to his aid the philosophy that had always aided him; it gave him insight, but no relief. Duty, gratitude, the sovereign majesty he was violating rose before his eyes like avenging gods; he struggled, he triumphed; but this victory, which had to be won again at every moment, cost him groans and tears. He no longer dared speak to the queen with that gentle freedom which had so charmed them both: a cloud came over his eyes; his conversation grew strained and disjointed; he lowered his gaze; and when, despite himself, his eyes turned toward Astarté, they met the queen’s, wet with tears and shooting darts of flame. They seemed to say to one another, “We adore each other, and we are afraid to love; we both burn with a fire we condemn.”
Zadig left her presence distracted, bewildered, his heart weighed down by a burden he could no longer bear. In the violence of his turmoil he let his friend Cador discover his secret, like a man who, after long enduring the assaults of a fierce pain, finally reveals his suffering through a cry wrung from him by a sharper spasm, and through the cold sweat streaming down his brow.
Cador told him, “I have already discerned the feelings you wanted to hide from yourself; the passions have unmistakable signs. Consider, my dear Zadig: since I have read your heart, will the king not discover there a feeling that offends him? His only fault is that he is the most jealous of men. You resist your passion more firmly than the queen fights hers, because you are a philosopher, and because you are Zadig. Astarté is a woman; she lets her eyes speak all the more recklessly because she does not yet believe herself guilty. Fatally reassured by her innocence, she neglects the appearances she needs to preserve. I shall tremble for her as long as she has nothing to reproach herself with. If the two of you had come to an understanding, you would know how to deceive every eye: a passion just born and struggled against betrays itself; a love that has been satisfied knows how to hide.” Zadig shuddered at the suggestion of betraying the king, his benefactor; never was he more faithful to his prince than when he was guilty of an involuntary crime against him. Yet the queen spoke Zadig’s name so often, her brow flushed so deeply as she said it, she was now so animated, now so confused when she spoke to him before the king, and she sank into such deep reverie when he had gone, that the king grew troubled. He believed everything he saw and imagined everything he did not see. Above all, he noticed that his wife’s slippers were blue and Zadig’s slippers were blue, that his wife’s ribbons were yellow and Zadig’s cap was yellow: terrible evidence for a prince sensitive on such matters. Suspicion became certainty in his embittered mind.
Every slave of a king or queen is a spy upon the royal heart. It was soon discovered that Astarté was in love and Moabdar was jealous. The Envious Man persuaded the Envious Woman to send the king her garter, which resembled the queen’s. To make matters worse, the garter was blue. The monarch could think of nothing now but how to take revenge. One night he resolved to poison the queen and have Zadig strangled with a cord at daybreak. The order was given to a pitiless eunuch, the instrument of his vengeance. There was then in the king’s room a little dwarf who could not speak but could hear. He was always allowed to remain; like a household pet, he witnessed the most secret proceedings. This little mute was deeply attached to the queen and to Zadig. With equal astonishment and horror, he heard the order for their deaths. But how could he forestall that dreadful command, which would be carried out in a few hours? He could not write; but he had learned to paint, and above all could capture a likeness. He spent part of the night sketching what he wanted the queen to understand. In one corner of his picture he showed the king, convulsed with fury, giving orders to his eunuch; a blue cord and a cup lay on a table, with blue garters and yellow ribbons; in the center of the picture the queen was dying in her attendants’ arms, with Zadig strangled at her feet. A rising sun on the horizon indicated that this horrible execution was to take place at the first light of dawn. As soon as he had finished, he ran to one of Astarté’s attendants, woke her, and made her understand that the picture must be taken to the queen that very instant.
Meanwhile, in the middle of the night, there is a knock at Zadig’s door; he is woken; he is given a note from the queen; he wonders whether he is dreaming; with a trembling hand he opens the letter. What was his astonishment—and who could express the consternation and despair that overwhelmed him—as he read these words: “Flee this very instant, or they will take your life! Flee, Zadig; I command you in the name of our love and my yellow ribbons. I was not guilty; but I feel I am about to die guilty.”
Zadig scarcely had the strength to speak. He ordered Cador to be brought to him and, without a word, handed him the note. Cador made him obey and set out at once for Memphis. “If you dare go to the queen,” he told him, “you will hasten her death; if you speak to the king, you will destroy her just as surely. I will take charge of her fate; follow your own. I will spread the rumor that you have taken the road to India. I will come to you soon and tell you what has happened in Babylon.”
At that very moment Cador had two of the swiftest dromedaries brought to a secret gate of the palace. He had Zadig placed on one; he had to be carried and was close to breathing his last. A single servant accompanied him, and soon Cador, plunged in astonishment and grief, lost his friend from sight.
On reaching the edge of a hill overlooking Babylon, the illustrious fugitive turned his eyes toward the queen’s palace and fainted; he recovered his senses only to weep and wish for death. At last, after dwelling on the deplorable fate of the most lovable of women and the foremost queen in the world, he turned his thoughts for a moment to himself and cried, “What, then, is human life? Virtue! What good have you done me? Two women have shamefully deceived me; the third, who is innocent and more beautiful than the others, is going to die! All the good I have done has always been a source of curses for me, and I have been raised to the summit of greatness only to plunge into misfortune’s most dreadful abyss. Had I been wicked like so many others, I would be happy like them.” Crushed by these deadly reflections, his eyes shrouded in grief, the pallor of death on his face, his soul sunk in the depths of dark despair, he continued his journey toward Egypt.
Plain English translation
Complete machine-assisted Plain English translation made independently and directly from the French, in separate source-only translation tasks, not from the Musean edition or a published English translation. Same complete scope and author’s notes; later editors’ notes are omitted. Source-language review is recorded with the source witness.
Jealousy.
Zadig's misfortune came from his good fortune itself, and above all from his fine qualities. Every day he talked with the king and Astarté, his royal wife. His conversation was made even more charming by his wish to please, which does for the mind what fine clothes do for beauty. Little by little, his youth and charm made an impression on Astarté that she did not notice at first. Her passion grew while she remained innocent. Without guilt or fear, Astarté enjoyed seeing and hearing a man who was dear to her husband and the state. She constantly praised him to the king. She talked about him with her attendants, who praised him even more. Everything drove the arrow deeper into her heart without her feeling it. She gave Zadig gifts that were more flirtatious than she realized. She thought she spoke to him only as a queen pleased with his services. Sometimes, though, her words were those of a woman in love.
Astarté was much more beautiful than Sémire, who hated one-eyed men so much, or that other wife who had wanted to cut off her husband's nose. Astarté's familiar manner, her tender words, which were beginning to make her blush, and her eyes, which she tried to turn away but kept fixing on his, lit a fire in Zadig's heart that astonished him. He fought against it. He called on philosophy, which had always helped him. It gave him understanding but no relief. Duty, gratitude, and the royal authority he was violating rose before his eyes like avenging gods. He fought and won. But this victory, which had to be won again at every moment, cost him groans and tears. He no longer dared speak to the queen with the gentle ease that had charmed them both so much. His eyes clouded over. His words were strained and disconnected. He lowered his eyes. When, despite himself, he looked toward Astarté, his eyes met the queen's, wet with tears and shooting arrows of flame. They seemed to say to each other, "We adore each other, and we're afraid to love each other. We both burn with a fire we condemn."
Zadig left her confused and distraught, his heart weighed down by a burden he could no longer carry. In his intense distress, he let his friend Cador discover his secret. He was like a man who has long endured sharp pain and finally reveals his suffering through a cry torn from him by a sudden, worse attack, and through the cold sweat running down his forehead.
Cador told him, "I've already recognized the feelings you wanted to hide from yourself. Passion has signs that can't be mistaken. My dear Zadig, since I've read your heart, consider whether the king won't discover a feeling there that offends him. His only fault is being the most jealous of men. You resist your passion more strongly than the queen fights hers, because you're a philosopher and because you're Zadig. Astarté is a woman. She lets her eyes speak all the more carelessly because she doesn't yet think herself guilty. Unfortunately, her innocence reassures her, so she neglects the appearances she needs to keep up. I'll fear for her as long as she has nothing to blame herself for. If the two of you came to an agreement, you would know how to fool everyone's eyes. A growing passion that people fight against shows itself. A love that has been satisfied knows how to hide." Zadig shuddered at the suggestion of betraying the king, his benefactor. He was never more faithful to his ruler than when he was guilty of this involuntary offense against him. But the queen said Zadig's name so often, blushed so deeply when she said it, and was sometimes so lively and sometimes so flustered when she spoke to him in the king's presence that the king grew troubled. When Zadig left, she fell into such deep daydreams. The king believed everything he saw and imagined everything he did not see. Above all, he noticed that his wife's slippers were blue and Zadig's slippers were blue, that his wife's ribbons were yellow and Zadig's cap was yellow. These were terrible clues for a ruler so sensitive about his honor. In his embittered mind, suspicion became certainty.
All the slaves of kings and queens are spies on their masters' hearts. People soon discovered that Astarté was in love and Moabdar was jealous. The Envious Man persuaded the Envious Woman to send the king her garter, which looked like the queen's. To make matters worse, this garter was blue. The king could think of nothing but revenge. One night he decided to poison the queen and have Zadig strangled with a cord at dawn. The order went to a merciless eunuch who carried out his acts of revenge. There was a small dwarf in the king's room at the time. He could not speak, but he could hear. They always let him stay. Like a household pet, he witnessed the most secret things that went on. This little man was deeply attached to the queen and Zadig. He heard the order for their deaths with as much surprise as horror. But how could he stop this dreadful order, which would be carried out in a few hours? He could not write, but he had learned to paint and was especially good at getting a likeness. He spent part of the night sketching what he wanted the queen to understand. In one corner, his drawing showed the king in a rage, giving orders to his eunuch. On a table were a blue cord and a vase, with blue garters and yellow ribbons. In the middle of the picture, the queen lay dying in her attendants' arms, with Zadig strangled at her feet. A rising sun appeared on the horizon to show that this horrible execution was to take place at the first light of dawn. As soon as he finished, he ran to one of Astarté's attendants, woke her, and made her understand that she must take the picture to the queen at once.
Meanwhile, in the middle of the night, someone knocked at Zadig's door. He was woken and given a note from the queen. He wondered if it was a dream. With a trembling hand, he opened the letter. How shocked he was! Who could describe the dismay and despair that overwhelmed him when he read these words? "Run away at once, or they're going to take your life! Run away, Zadig. I order you in the name of our love and my yellow ribbons. I was not guilty, but I feel that I am going to die guilty."
Zadig barely had the strength to speak. He ordered someone to fetch Cador and handed him the note without a word. Cador forced him to obey it and take the road to Memphis immediately. "If you dare go to the queen," he told him, "you'll hasten her death. If you speak to the king, you'll destroy her just the same. I'll take charge of her fate. Follow your own. I'll spread the word that you've taken the road to India. I'll come to find you soon and tell you what has happened in Babylon."
Cador immediately had two of the fastest dromedaries brought to a secret gate of the palace. He had Zadig put on one. Zadig had to be carried and was close to death. Only one servant went with him. Soon Cador, lost in shock and grief, could no longer see his friend.
When this famous fugitive reached the edge of a hill overlooking Babylon, he turned to look at the queen's palace and fainted. He regained consciousness only to shed tears and wish for death. At last, after dwelling on the terrible fate of the most lovable woman and the foremost queen in the world, he thought about himself for a moment and cried, "What is human life, then? Virtue! What good have you done me? Two women have shamefully deceived me. The third, who is not guilty and is more beautiful than the others, is going to die! Everything good I've done has always brought curses down on me. I was raised to the very peak of greatness only to fall into the most horrible pit of misfortune. If I had been wicked like so many others, I'd be happy like them." Crushed by these bleak thoughts, his eyes covered by a veil of grief, his face deathly pale, and his soul sunk in the depths of dark despair, he continued his journey toward Egypt.
About this section
Chapter 8: Jealousy is part of Zadig, or Destiny by Voltaire. This page sets the French original beside 2 direct-source translations, so any line can be checked against the source. It is chapter 10 of 23 in the work, which is kept in the European tradition.
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