Chapter 12 - Page 2

grown a perfect Skeleton, all wrinkled and deform'd. She paus'd, and
pulling off, with a negligent but artful Air, her long silk Gloves;
She display'd a soft, plump, naked Arm, and white as Snow: You see,
Sir, said she, that all my Charms are blasted. Blasted, Madam, said
the luscious Pontiff; No! Your Charms are still resistless: His
Eyes, and his Mouth, with which he kiss'd her Hand, confirm'd their
Power: Such an Arm, Madam, by the Great _Orasmades_, I never saw
before. Alas! said the Widow, with a modest Blush; my Arm Sir, 'tis
probable, may have the Advantage of any hidden Part; but see, good
Father, what a Neck is here; as yellow as Saffron, an Object not
worth regarding. Then she display'd such a snowy, panting Bosom,
that Nature could not mend it. A Rose-Bud on an Ivory Apple, would,
if set in Competition with her spotless Whiteness, make no better
Appearance than common Madder upon a Shrub; and the whitest Wool,
just out of the Laver, were she but by, would seem but of a
light-brown Hue.

Her Neck, her large black, sparkling Eyes, that languishingly
roll'd, and seem'd as 'twere, on Fire; her lovely Cheeks, glowing
with White and Red, her Nose, that was not unlike the Tower of Mount
_Lebanon_, her Lips, which were like two Borders of Coral, inclosing
two Rows of the best Pearls in the _Arabian_ Sea; such a
Combination, I say, of Charms, made the old Pontiff judge she was
scarce twenty Years of Age; and in a kind of Flutter, to make her a
Declaration of his tender Regard for her. _Almona_, perceiving him
enamour'd, begg'd his Interest in Favour of _Zadig_. Alas! my dear
Charmer, my Interest alone, when you request the Favour, would be
but a poor Compliment; I'll take care his Acquittance shall be
signed by three more of my Brother Priests. Do you sign first,
however, said _Almona_. With all my Soul, said the amorous Pontiff,
provided----you'll be kind, my dearest. You do me too much Honour,
said _Almona_; but should you give your self the Trouble to pay me a
Visit after Sunset, and as soon as the Star _Sheat_ twinkles on the
Horizon, you shall find me, most venerable Father, repos'd upon a
rosy-colour'd silver Sopha, where you shall use your Pleasure with
your humble Servant. With that she made him a low Courtesy; took up
_Zadig's_ general Release as soon as duely sign'd, and left the old
Doatard all over Love, tho' somewhat diffident of his own Abilities.
The Residue of the Day he spent in his Bagnio; he drank large
enlivening Draughts of a Water distill'd from the Cinnamon of
_Ceilan_, and the costly Spices of _Tidor_ and _Ternate_, and waited
with the utmost Impatience for the up-rising of the brilliant
_Sheat_.

In the mean time _Almona_ went to the second Pontiff. He assur'd her