rprising adventure I here find
the name of Zadig traced out by thy divine hand!"

At this voice, and these words, the lady lifted up the veil with a
trembling hand, looked at Zadig, sent forth a cry of tenderness,
surprise and joy, and sinking under the various emotions which at once
assaulted her soul, fell speechless into his arms. It was Astarte
herself; it was the Queen of Babylon; it was she whom Zadig adored, and
whom he had reproached himself for adoring; it was she whose
misfortunes he had so deeply lamented, and for whose fate he had been
so anxiously concerned.

He was for a moment deprived of the use of his senses, when he had
fixed his eyes on those of Astarte, which now began to open again with
a languor mixed with confusion and tenderness: "O ye immortal powers!"
cried he, "who preside over the fates of weak mortals, do ye indeed
restore Astarte to me! at what a time, in what a place, and in what a
condition do I again behold her!" He fell on his knees before Astarte,
and laid his face in the dust at her feet. The Queen of Babylon raised
him up, and made him sit by her side on the brink of the rivulet. She
frequently wiped her eyes, from which the tears continued to flow
afresh. She twenty times resumed her discourse, which her sighs as
often interrupted; she asked by what strange accident they were brought
together, and suddenly prevented his answers by other questions; she
waived the account of her own misfortunes, and desired to be informed
of those of Zadig.

At last, both of them having a little composed the tumult of their
souls, Zadig acquainted her in a few words by what adventure he was
brought into that meadow. "But, O unhappy and respectable queen! by
what means do I find thee in this lonely place, clothed in the habit of
a slave, and accompanied by other female slaves, who are searching for
a basilisk, which, by order of the physician, is to be stewed in rose
water?"

"While they are searching for their basilisk," said the fair Astarte,
"I will inform thee of all I have suffered, for which Heaven has
sufficiently recompensed me by restoring thee to my sight. Thou knowest
that the king, my husband, was vexed to see thee the most amiable of
mankind; and that for this reason he one night resolved to strangle
thee and poison me. Thou knowest how Heaven permitted my little mute to
inform me of the orders of his sublime majesty. Hardly had the faithful
Cador advised thee to depart, in obedience