not offended at thy slave when he presumed to oppose thy passion."
The king and Zadig were equally the object of admiration. The judge,
who had given his estate to his client; the lover, who had resigned his
mistress to a friend; and the soldier, who had preferred the safety of
his mother to that of his mistress, received the king's presents and
saw their names enrolled in the catalogue of generous men. Zadig had
the cup, and the king acquired the reputation of a good prince, which
he did not long enjoy. The day was celebrated by feasts that lasted
longer than the law enjoined; and the memory of it is still preserved
in Asia. Zadig said, "Now I am happy at last"; but he found himself
fatally deceived.

THE MINISTER

The king had lost his first minister and chose Zadig to supply his
place. All the ladies in Babylon applauded the choice; for since the
foundation of the empire there had never been such a young minister.
But all the courtiers were filled with jealousy and vexation. The
envious man in particular was troubled with a spitting of blood and a
prodigious inflammation in his nose. Zadig, having thanked the king and
queen for their goodness, went likewise to thank the parrot. "Beautiful
bird," said he, "'tis thou that hast saved my life and made me first
minister. The queen's spaniel and the king's horse did me a great deal
of mischief; but thou hast done me much good. Upon such slender threads
as these do the fates of mortals hang! But," added he, "this happiness
perhaps will vanish very soon."

"Soon," replied the parrot.

Zadig was somewhat startled at this word. But as he was a good natural
philosopher and did not believe parrots to be prophets, he quickly
recovered his spirits and resolved to execute his duty to the best of
his power.

He made everyone feel the sacred authority of the laws, but no one felt
the weight of his dignity. He never checked the deliberation of the
diran; and every vizier might give his opinion without the fear of
incurring the minister's displeasure. When he gave judgment, it was not
he that gave it, it was the law; the rigor of which, however, whenever
it was too severe, he always took care to soften; and when laws were
wanting, the equity of his decisions was such as might easily have made
them pass for those of Zoroaster. It is to him that the nations are
indebted for this grand principle, to wit, that it is better to run the
risk of sparing the guilty than to condemn t