Chapter 13: The Appointments

The Appointment.

While he was traveling to Basra, the priests of the stars had resolved to punish him. The jewels and ornaments of the young widows they sent to the pyre belonged to them by right; having Zadig burned was the very least they could do for the trick he had played them. They therefore accused Zadig of holding erroneous opinions about the host of heaven; they testified against him and swore they had heard him say that the stars did not set in the sea. This dreadful blasphemy made the judges shudder; they were on the point of tearing their garments when they heard these impious words, and would doubtless have done so if Zadig had possessed the means to pay for them; but in the extremity of their grief they contented themselves with condemning him to be burned over a slow fire. In despair, Sétoc used his influence in vain to save his friend; he was soon obliged to hold his tongue. The young widow Almona, who had developed a great taste for life and owed it to Zadig, resolved to rescue him from the pyre whose abuses he had shown her. She turned her plan over in her mind without speaking of it to anyone. Zadig was to be executed the next day; she had only the night to save him. Here is how she went about it, like a charitable and prudent woman.

She perfumed herself, heightened her beauty with the richest and most alluring attire, and went to request a secret audience with the chief priest of the stars. Once before this venerable old man, she addressed him in these words: “Eldest son of the Great Bear, brother of the Bull, cousin of the Great Dog”—these were the pontiff’s titles—“I come to confide my scruples to you. I am very much afraid that I committed an enormous sin by not burning myself on my dear husband’s pyre. Indeed, what had I to preserve? Perishable flesh, already quite withered.” With these words she drew from her long silk sleeves her bare arms, exquisitely shaped and dazzlingly white. “You see,” she said, “how little all this is worth.” In his heart the pontiff found it worth a great deal. His eyes said so, and his mouth confirmed it; he swore that he had never in his life seen such beautiful arms. “Alas!” the widow said. “My arms may be a little less bad than the rest; but you will admit that my bosom was not worth my concern.” Then she revealed the most enchanting breast that nature had ever formed. Beside it, a rosebud on an ivory apple would have looked like madder on boxwood, and lambs fresh from the washing would have seemed a brownish yellow. This bosom, her great black eyes languishing and softly shining with a tender fire, her cheeks glowing with the loveliest crimson mingled with the purest milky white, her nose, which was not like the tower of Mount Lebanon, her lips, like two borders of coral enclosing the finest pearls of the Arabian Sea—all this together made the old man believe he was twenty. Stammering, he made a tender declaration. Seeing him aflame, Almona asked him to pardon Zadig. “Alas!” he said. “My beautiful lady, even if I granted you his pardon, my indulgence would serve no purpose; three other colleagues of mine must sign it.” “Sign it all the same,” said Almona. “Gladly,” said the priest, “provided that your favors are the price of my compliance.” “You do me too much honor,” said Almona. “Only be so kind as to come to my room after the sun has set; as soon as the brilliant star Sheat is above the horizon, you will find me on a rose-colored sofa, and you may do what you can with your servant.” She then left, taking his signature with her and leaving the old man full of love and doubts about his powers. He spent the rest of the day bathing; he drank a cordial made with cinnamon from Ceylon and the precious spices of Tidore and Ternate, and impatiently waited for the star Sheat to appear.

Meanwhile the beautiful Almona went to the second pontiff. He assured her that the sun, the moon, and all the fires of the firmament were mere will-o’-the-wisps beside her charms. She asked him for the same pardon, and he proposed that she pay the price. She allowed herself to be persuaded and made an appointment with the second pontiff for the rising of the star Algénib. From there she went to the third and fourth priests, always collecting a signature and giving an appointment from one star to the next. Then she sent word to the judges to come to her house on important business. They came; she showed them the four names and told them the price at which the priests had sold Zadig’s pardon. Each priest arrived at the appointed hour; each was greatly astonished to find his colleagues there, and still more to find the judges, before whom their shame was exposed. Zadig was saved. Sétoc was so delighted with Almona’s ingenuity that he made her his wife.

The Appointment.

While Zadig was away in Basra, the priests of the stars had decided to punish him. By right, the jewels and ornaments of the young widows they sent to the pyre belonged to them. Having Zadig burned was the least they could do after the nasty trick he had played on them. So they accused him of holding false beliefs about the host of heaven. They testified against him, swearing they had heard him say that the stars did not set in the sea. This terrible blasphemy made the judges shudder. They were ready to tear their clothes when they heard these ungodly words. They would certainly have done so if Zadig had had the money to pay for them. But in their overwhelming grief, they settled for sentencing him to be burned over a slow fire. Sétoc was desperate. He used his influence to try to save his friend, but it was no use. Soon he was forced to keep quiet. The young widow Almona had become very fond of life, and she owed it to Zadig. She decided to save him from the pyre, whose injustice he had shown her. She turned her plan over in her mind without telling anyone. Zadig was to be executed the next day. She had only the night to save him. Here is how she went about it, as a charitable and sensible woman.

She put on perfume, enhanced her beauty with the richest and most attractive clothes, and went to ask the chief priest of the stars for a private audience. When she stood before this venerable old man, she spoke to him as follows: "Eldest son of the Great Bear, brother of the Bull, cousin of the Great Dog" (these were the high priest's titles), "I've come to confide my misgivings to you. I'm very much afraid I committed a terrible sin by not burning myself on my dear husband's pyre. After all, what did I have to preserve? Perishable flesh that's already all withered." As she spoke, she drew her bare arms out of her long silk sleeves. They were beautifully shaped and dazzlingly white. "You see," she said, "how little they're worth." In his heart, the high priest found them worth a great deal. His eyes said so, and his mouth confirmed it. He swore he had never seen such beautiful arms in his life. "Oh!" the widow said. "My arms may be a little less ugly than the rest. But you'll admit that my breasts weren't worth bothering about." Then she revealed the loveliest breast that nature had ever formed. Beside it, a rosebud on an ivory apple would have looked like madder red on boxwood, and lambs fresh from washing would have seemed a brownish yellow. That breast; her large black eyes, languid and softly shining with tender fire; her cheeks, flushed with the loveliest crimson mixed with the purest milky white; her nose, which was not like the tower of Mount Lebanon; her lips, like two borders of coral enclosing the finest pearls in the Arabian Sea—all of this together made the old man think he was twenty. Stammering, he declared his love. Seeing him on fire, Almona asked him to pardon Zadig. "Oh! My beautiful lady," he said, "even if I granted you his pardon, my leniency would do no good. Three more of my colleagues have to sign it." "Sign it anyway," Almona said. "Gladly," said the priest, "provided your favors are the price of my willingness." "You do me too much honor," Almona said. "Just be so kind as to come to my room after sunset. As soon as the bright star Sheat is above the horizon, you'll find me on a rose-colored sofa, and you can do whatever you can manage with your servant." Then she left, taking his signature with her and leaving the old man full of love and doubts about his strength. He spent the rest of the day bathing. He drank a liquor made with cinnamon from Ceylon and precious spices from Tidore and Ternate. He waited impatiently for the star Sheat to appear.

Meanwhile, beautiful Almona went to see the second high priest. He assured her that the sun, the moon, and all the fires in the heavens were only flickering marsh lights compared with her charms. She asked him for the same pardon, and he proposed that she pay the price for it. She let herself be persuaded and made an appointment with the second high priest for the rising of the star Algénib. From there she went to the third and fourth priests. Each time she got a signature and gave an appointment, from one star to the next. Then she sent word to the judges to come to her house on important business. They came. She showed them the four names and told them the price at which the priests had sold Zadig's pardon. Each priest arrived at the appointed hour. Each was very surprised to find his colleagues there, and even more surprised to find the judges, in front of whom their disgrace was exposed. Zadig was saved. Sétoc was so delighted with Almona's cleverness that he married her.