ome visible Marks of his Resentment. He has no other
Foible, but that of being the most jealous Mortal breathing. You
take more Pains to check the Violence of your Passion, than the
Queen herself does; because you are a Philosopher; because, in
short, you are _Zadig_; _Astarte_ is but a weak Woman; and tho' her
Eyes speak too visibly, and with too much Imprudence; yet she does
not think her self blame-worthy. Being conscious of her Innocence,
to her own Misfortune, as well as yours, she is too unguarded. I
tremble for her; because I am sensible her Conscience acquits her.
Were you both agreed, you might conceal your Regard for each other
from all the World: A rising Passion, that is smother'd, breaks out
into a Flame; Love, when once gratified, knows how to conceal itself
with Art. _Zadig_ shudder'd at the Proposition of ungratefully
violating the Bed of his Royal Benefactor; and never was there a
more loyal Subject to a Prince, tho' guilty of an involuntary Crime.
The Queen, however, repeated the Name of _Zadig_ so often, and her
Cheeks glow'd with such a red, when ever she utter'd it; she was one
while so transported, and at another, so dejected, when the
Discourse turn'd upon him in the King's Presence; she was in such a
Reverie, so confus'd and stupid, when he went out of the Presence,
that her Deportment made the King extremely uneasy. He was convinc'd
of every Thing he saw, and form'd in his Mind an Idea of a thousand
Things he did not see. He observ'd, particularly, that _Astarte's_
Sandals were blue; so _Zadig's_ were blue likewise; that as the
Queen wore yellow Ribbands, _Zadig's_ Turbet was of the same Colour:
These were shocking Circumstances for a Monarch of his Cast of Mind
to reflect on! To a Mind, in short, so distemper'd as his was,
Suspicions were converted into real Facts.

All Court Slaves, and Sycophants, are so many Spies on Kings and
Queens: They soon discover'd that _Astarte_ was fond, and _Moabdar_
jealous. _Arimazius_, his envious Foe, who was as incorrigible as
ever; for Flints will never soften; and Creatures, that are by
Nature venemous, forever retain their Poison. _Arimazius_, I say,
wrote an anonymous Letter to _Moabdar_, the infamous Recourse of
sordid Spirits, who are the Objects of universal Contempt; but in
this Case, an Affair of the last Importance; because this Letter
tallied with the baneful Suggestions that Monarch had conceiv'd. In
short, his Thoughts were now wholly bent upon R