When Zadig had travelled some few Leagues from Arbogad’s Castle, he found himself arriv’d at the Banks of a little River; incessantly deploring, as he went along, his unhappy Fate, and looking upon himself as the very Picture of ill Luck. He perceiv’d at a little Distance a Fisherman, reclin’d on a verdant Bank by the River-side, trembling, scarce able to hold his Net in his Hand, (which he seem’d but little to regard) and with uplift Eyes, imploring Heaven’s Assistance. I am, doubtless, said the poor Fisherman, the most unhappy Wretch that ever liv’d! No Merchant in all Babylon, it is very well known, was ever so noted for selling Cream–Cheeses as myself; and yet I am ruin’d to all Intents and Purposes. No Man of my Profession ever had a handsomer, more compleat Housewife, than my Dame was; but I have been treacherously depriv’d of her. I had still left a poor, pitiful Cottage, but that I saw plunder’d and destroy’d. I am cubb’d up here in a Cell; I have nothing to depend upon but my Fishery, and not one single Fish have I caught. Thou unfortunate Net! I’ll never throw thee into the Water more: Much sooner will I throw myself in. No sooner were the Words out of his Mouth, but he started up, and ran to the River-side, like one that was resolutely bent to plunge in, and get rid of a miserable Life at once. Is it possible, said Zadig? Is there then the Man in Being more wretched than myself? His Benevolence, and good Will to save the poor Man’s Life, was as quick as the Reflection he had just made! He ran to his Assistance; he laid hold of him; and ask’d him, with an Air of Pity and Concern, the Cause of his rash Intention. ’Tis an old saying, that a Person is less unhappy when he sees himself not singular in Misfortune. But if we will credit Zoroaster, this is not from a Principle of Malignity, but the Effect of a fatal Necessity. He was attracted, as it were, to any Person in Distress, as being One in the same unhappy Circumstances. The Transport of a happy Man, would be a Kind of Insult; but two Persons in bad Circumstances, are like two weak Shrubs, which, by propping up each other, are fenc’d against a Storm. Why are you thus cast down, said Zadig to the Fisherman? Never sink Man, under the Weight of your Burden. I can’t help it, said the poor Fisherman; I have not the least Prospect of Redress. I was once, Sir, the tip-top Man of the whole Village of Derlbach, near Babylon, where I liv’d, and with the Help of my Wife, made the best Cream–Cheeses that were ever eaten in the Persian Empire. Her Majesty, the Queen Astarte, and the famous Prime–Minister Zadig were very fond of them. I serv’d the Court with about six Hundred of them, I went the other Day in Hopes of being paid; but before I had well got into the Suburbs of Babylon, I was inform’d, that not only the Queen, but Zadig too had privately left the Court: Whereupon I ran directly to Zadig’s House, tho’ I never sat Eye on the Man in all my Life. There I found the Court–Marshals of the grand Desterham, plundering, by Virtue of his Majesty’s Mandate, all his Effects, in the most loyal Manner. From thence I made the best of my Way to the Queen’s Kitchin; where, applying my self to the Steward of her Household, and his inferior Officers; one of them told me she was dead; another, that she was confin’d in Prison; a third, indeed, said that she had made her Escape by Flight; all in general, however, assur’d me for my Comfort, that my Cheeses would never be paid for. From thence I went, with my Wife in my Hand, to Lord Orcan’s; who was another of my Court–Customers; of whom we begg’d for Shelter and Protection: The Favour, I confess, was readily granted to my Wife; but as for my own Part, I was absolutely rejected. She was fairer, Sir, than the fairest Cheese I ever sold; from whence I date all my Misfortunes; and the red that adorn’d her blushing Cheeks was ten Times more lively than any Tyrian Scarlet. And between you and I, Sir, that was the main Cause of my Wife’s Reception, and my Disgrace. Whereupon I wrote a doleful Letter to my Wife, in all the Agonies of one in the deepest Despair: ’Tis very well, said she, to the Messenger; I have some little Knowledge of the Man; I have heard say no one sells better Cream–Cheeses than he does; desire him, next Time he comes, to bring a small Parcel with him, and let him know, I’ll take care he shall be punctually paid.

In the Height of my Misfortunes, I ............