e wealth of the envious man;
but Zadig restored him back the whole of it. And this instance of
generosity gave no other pleasure to the envious man than that of having
preserved his estate.
The king's esteem for Zadig increased every day. He admitted him into all
his parties of pleasure, and consulted him in all affairs of state. From
that time the queen began to regard him with an eye of tenderness that
might one day prove dangerous to herself, to the king, her august comfort,
to Zadig, and to the kingdom in general. Zadig now began to think that
happiness was not so unattainable as he had formerly imagined.
THE GENEROUS
The time now arrived for celebrating a grand festival, which returned
every five years. It was a custom in Babylon solemnly to declare at the
end of every five years which of the citizens had performed the most
generous action. The grandees and the magi were the judges. The first
satrap, who was charged with the government of the city, published the
most noble actions that had passed under his administration. The
competition was decided by votes; and the king pronounced the sentence.
People came to this solemnity from the extremities of the earth. The
conqueror received from the monarch's hand a golden cup adorned with
precious stones, his majesty at the same time making him this compliment:
"Receive this reward of thy generosity, and may the gods grant me many
subjects like to thee."
This memorable day being come, the king appeared on his throne, surrounded
by the grandees, the magi, and the deputies of all nations that came to
these games, where glory was acquired not by the swiftness of horses, nor
by strength of body, but by virtue. The first satrap recited, with an
audible voice, such actions as might entitle the authors of them to this
invaluable prize. He did not mention the greatness of soul with which
Zadig had restored the envious man his fortune, because it was not judged
to be an action worthy of disputing the prize.
He first presented a judge who, having made a citizen lose a considerable
cause by a mistake, for which, after all, he was not accountable, had
given him the whole of his own estate, which was just equal to what the
other had lost.
He next produced a young man who, being desperately in love with a lady
whom he was going to marry, had yielded her up to his friend, whose
passion for her had almost brought him to the brink of the grave, and at
the same time had gi
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