_Zadig_ withdrew, and left the _Syrian_ Ladies in Quest of their imaginary Booty, in order to pursue his intended Journey. But as he came to the Banks of a Rivulet, at the remotest part of the Meadow, he perceiv'd another young Lady, reclin'd on the Grass, and entirely disengag'd. Her Stature seem'd majestic, but her Face was cover'd with a Vail; and her Eyes were fixt, as one at her Looking-glass, on the River. Every now and then a Sigh burst out, as if her Heart were breaking. In her Hand she held a little Wand or Rod, with which she was tracing out some Characters on the dry Sand, that lay between the flow'ry Bank she sat on, and the purling Current. _Zadig's_ Curiosity induc'd him, unperceiv'd, to observe her Operations at some Distance. But approaching nearer, and perceiving very distinctly the first Character to be an _Z_. the next an _A_. and the third a _D_. he started; but when he saw the additional Capitals of _I_ and _G_. his Astonishment was too great for Words to express. He stood for some Time perfectly thunder-struck, and as motionless as a Statue; At last, in a soft, faultring Tone, he broke Silence: O generous Lady, said he, forgive a Stranger, one overwhelm'd with Sorrows like yourself, if he asks you, by what amazing Accident he finds the Name of _Zadig_ delineated by so angelick a Hand. Thus unexpectedly interrupted, and at the Sound of those Words, she turn'd her Head; and with a trembling Hand, lifting up her Vail, she espy'd _Zadig_ himself. Upon which, she shriek'd; and as her Heart was flutter'd between the two Extreams of Transport and Surprize, she fainted away, and gently dropp'd into his Arms. 'Twas, it seems _Astarte_ her self; 'twas the Queen of _Babylon_; 'twas the very _Goddess_ whom _Zadig_ ador'd; 'twas, in short, the very identical Lady, whose hard Fate he had so long deplor'd; and for whose sake he had felt so many agonizing Pains. For a few Minutes he stood speechless, and depriv'd, as it were, of all his senses, whilst his Eyes were fixt on his _Astarte_, who began to revive; and cast a wishful Glance at him, attended with some Confusion. O ye immortal Powers, cried he, who preside over the Destiny of us frail Mortals! Ye have restor'd me my _Astarte_; but alas! at what a Conjuncture, in what a Place, and in what a State and Condition do I view her? He threw himself prostrate on the Ground, and kiss'd the Dust of her Feet. The Queen of _Babylon_ rais'd him up, and oblig'd him to sit by her on the flow'ry Bank whereon she was repos'd. Every now and then she wip'd her Eyes, as the Tears trickl'd down afresh her lovely Cheeks. Twenty times she endeavour'd to renew her Discourse; but was interrupted by her Sighs; she ask'd him over and over to relate to her the Hardships he had ran thro' since their parting, and by what Chance he came to traverse that solitary Meadow; but prevented him at the same Time from returning any Answer, by repeating Question upon Question. At last, she gave him a particular