Arriving on the frontiers which divide Arabia Petraea from Syria, he
passed by a pretty strong castle, from which a party of armed Arabians
sallied forth. They instantly surrounded him and cried, "All thou hast
belongs to us, and thy person is the property of our master." Zadig
replied by drawing his sword; his servant, who was a man of courage, did
the same. They killed the first Arabians that presumed to lay hands on
them; and, though the number was redoubled, they were not dismayed, but
resolved to perish in the conflict. Two men defended themselves against a
multitude; and such a combat could not last long.
The master of the castle, whose name was Arbogad, having observed from a
window the prodigies of valor performed by Zadig, conceived a high esteem
for this heroic stranger. He descended in haste and went in person to call
off his men and deliver the two travelers.
"All that passes over my lands," said he, "belongs to me, as well as what
I find upon the lands of others; but thou seemest to be a man of such
undaunted courage that I will exempt thee from the common law." He then
conducted him to his castle, ordering his men to treat him well; and in
the evening Arbogad supped with Zadig.
The lord of the castle was one of those Arabians who are commonly called
robbers; but he now and then performed some good actions amid a multitude
of bad ones. He robbed with a furious rapacity, and granted favors with
great generosity; he was intrepid in action; affable in company; a
debauchee at table, but gay in debauchery; and particularly remarkable for
his frank and open behavior. He was highly pleased with Zadig, whose
lively conversation lengthened the repast.
At last Arbogad said to him; "I advise thee to enroll thy name in my
catalogue; thou canst not do better; this is not a bad trade; and thou
mayest one day become what I am at present."
"May I take the liberty of asking thee," said Zadig, "how long thou hast
followed this noble profession?"
"From my most tender youth," replied the lord. "I was a servant to a
pretty good-natured Arabian, but could not endure the hardships of my
situation. I was vexed to find that fate had given me no share of the
earth, which equally belongs to all men. I imparted the cause of my
uneasiness to an old Arabian, who said to me: 'My son, do not despair;
there was once a grain of sand that lamented that it was no more than a
neglected atom in the desert; at the end of a few years it became a
diamond; and is now the brightest ornament in the crown of the king of the
Indies.' This discourse made a deep impression on my mind. I was the grain
of sand, and I resolved to become the diamond. I began by stealing two
horses; I soon got a party of companions; I put myself in a condition to
rob small caravans; and thus, by degrees, I destroyed the difference which
had formerly subsisted between me and other men. I had my share of the
good things of this world; and was even recompensed with usury for the
hardships I had suffered. I was greatly respected, and became the captain
of a band of robbers. I seized this castle by force. The Satrap of Syria
had a mind to dispossess me of it; but I was too rich to have any thing to
fear. I gave the satrap a handsome present, by which means I preserved my
castle and increased my possessions. He even appointed me treasurer of the
tributes which Arabia Petraea pays to the king of kings. I perform my
office of receiver with great punctuality; but take the freedom to
dispense with that of paymaster.
"The grand Desterham of Babylon sent hither a pretty satrap in the name of
King Moabdar, to have me strangled. This man arrived with his orders: I
was apprised of all; I caused to be strangled in his presence the four
persons he had brought with him to draw the noose; after which I asked him
how much his commission of strangling me might be worth. He replied, that
his fees would amount to about three hundred pieces of gold. I then
convinced him that he might gain more by staying with me. I made him an
inferior robber; and he is now one of my best and richest officers. If
thou wilt take my advice thy success may be equal to his; never was there
a better season for plunder, since King Moabdar is killed, and all Babylon
thrown into confusion."
"Moabdar killed!" said Zadig, "and what is become of Queen Astarte?"
"I know not," replied Arbogad. "All I know is, that Moabdar lost his
senses and was killed; that Babylon is a scene of disorder and bloodshed;
that all the empire is desolated; that there are some fine strokes to be
struck yet; and that, for my own part, I have struck some that are
admirable."
"But the queen," said Zadig; "for heaven's sake, knowest thou nothing of
the queen's fate?"
"Yes," replied he, "I have heard something of a prince of Hircania; if she
was not killed in the tumult, she is probably one of his concubines; but I
am much fonder of booty than news. I have taken several women in my
excursions; but I keep none of them. I sell them at a high price, when
they are beautiful, without inquiring who they are. In commodities of this
kind rank makes no difference, and a queen that is ugly will never find a
merchant. Perhaps I may have sold Queen Astarte; perhaps she is dead; but,
be it as it will, it is of little consequence to me, and I should imagine
of as little to thee." So saying he drank a large draught which threw all
his ideas into such confusion that Zadig could obtain no further
information.
Zadig remained for some time without speech, sense, or motion. Arbogad
continued drinking; told stories; constantly repeated that he was the
happiest man in the world; and exhorted Zadig to put himself in the same
condition. At last the soporiferous fumes of the wine lulled him into a
gentle repose.
Zadig passed the night in the most violent perturbation. "What," said he,
"did the king lose his senses? and is he killed? I cannot help lamenting
his fate. The empire is rent in pieces; and this robber is happy. O
fortune! O destiny! A robber is happy, and the most beautiful of nature's
works hath perhaps perished in a barbarous manner or lives in a state
worse than death. O Astarte! what is become of thee?"
At daybreak he questioned all those he met in the castle; but they were
all busy, and he received no answer. During the night they had made a new
capture, and they were now employed in dividing the spoils. All he could
obtain in this hurry and confusion was an opportunity of departing, which
he immediately embraced, plunged deeper than ever in the most gloomy and
mournful reflections.
Zadig proceeded on his journey with a mind full of disquiet and
perplexity, and wholly employed on the unhappy Astarte, on the King of
Babylon, on his faithful friend Cador, on the happy robber Arbogad; in a
word, on all the misfortunes and disappointments he had hitherto suffered.