3H)
VOLTAI RE S
CANDIDH
V
CANDIDE
OR
ALL FOR THE BEST
A NEW TRANSLATION FROM THE FRENCH
WITH INTRODUCTION BY
WALTER JERROLD
VIGNETTES BY ADRIEN MOREAU
LONDON
GEORGE RE DWAY
1898
G50102
L $ / O 7
Printed by BALLANTYNE, HANSON -= Co
At the Ballantyne Press
CONTENTS
PAC.E
I. How Candide was brought up in a Magnificent Castle, and how
he was expelled thence .... . . . . i
II. What became of Candide among the Bulgarians . . .5
III. How Candide made his escape from the Bulgarians, and what
afterwards became of him . . 9
IV. How Candide found his old Master Pangloss, and what happened
to them .... 13
V. Tempest, Shipwreck, Earthquake, and what became of Doctor
Pangloss, Candide, and James the Anabaptist .... 19
VI. How the Portuguese made a Beautiful Auto-da-fe, to prevent any
further Earthquakes : and how Candide was publicly whipped 25
VII. How the Old Woman took care of Candide, and how he found the
Object he loved . . . 29
VIII. The History of Cunegonde 33
IX. What became of Cunegonde, Candide, the Grand Inquisitor, and
the Jew 39
X. In what Distress Candide, Cunegonde, and the Old Woman
arrived at Cadiz ; and of their Embarkation .... 43
XI. History of the Old Woman 47
XII. The Adventures of the Old Woman continued S3
XIII. How Candide was forced away from his fair Cunegonde and the
Old Woman 59
XIV. How Candide and Cacambo were received by the Jesuits of
Paraguay 63
XV. How Candide killed the Brother of his dear Cunegonde ... 69
viii CONTENTS
PAGE
XVI. Adventures of the Two Travellers, with Two Girls, Two Monkeys,
and the Savages called Oreillons 73
XVII. Arrival of Candide and his Valet at El Dorado, and what they saw
there 79
XVIII. What they saw in the Country of El Dorado 85
XIX. What happened to them at Surinam and how Candide got
acquainted with Martin 93
XX. What happened at Sea to Candide and Martin ... .101
XXI. Candide and Martin, reasoning, draw near the Coast of France . 105
XXII. What happened in France to Candide and Martin . . .109
XXIII. Candide and Martin touched upon the Coast of England, and what
they saw there 125
XXIV. Of Paquette and Friar Giroflee "9
XXV. The Visit to Lord Pococurante, a Noble Venetian . . . .137
XXVI. Of a Supper which Candide and Martin took with Six Strangers,
and who they were .... MS
XXVII. Candide s Voyage to Constantinople 151
XXVIII. What happened to Candide, Cunegonde, Pangloss, Martin, &c. . 157
XXIX. How Candide found Cunegonde and the Old Woman again . . 161
XXX. The Conclusion . . .163
NTRODUCTION
A FEW years ago M. Francisque Sarcey in prefacing
a handsome edition of Voltaire s " Candide " in the
original French, waxed eloquently enthusiastic over the
manifold merits of the philosophical novelette, which is
here offered to English readers for the first time in a
style befitting one of the most remarkable works of one
of the world s most remarkable men of letters. " For
us," said the critic, speaking for the nineteenth century
against the eighteenth, " for us Candide is Voltaire s
masterpiece ; we do not yet know what future centuries
will cherish of the eighty volumes which he wrote ; but
we may rest assured that if all this enormous result of
b
x INTRODUCTION
his labours were to fall in ruins and perish, there is
one little story of three hundred pages which will live
through all time. It is Candide. In this nutshell
the name of Voltaire will sail towards immortality."
Franvois Marie Arouet, known to the world as
Voltaire,* notablest figure in the history of eighteenth-
century literature and thought, was about sixty-five
years old when he put forth anonymously that nutshell
which is to ensure immortality to the name of his
adoption. It is, however, a curious fact that Voltaire s
editors should be in error as to the actual date of
publication of this work. Beuchot in -his collected
edition of Voltaire s works whence most writers on
" Candide " appear to have got their facts says that
the book "appeared a little late in March 1759." That
it was first issued in 1759 is well known, but the corre
spondence of Baron Grimm proves conclusively that it
must have been about a month earlier than stated by
Beuchot. Writing on February 15, Grimm says
nothing of the book, but writing a fortnight later, on
March i, he says a great deal. "It is a long time," said
he to his correspondent, the King of Prussia, " since we
have read anything merry in literature, M. Voltaire has
just enlivened us by a little romance entitled Candide. "
When he had completed " Candide," the author
submitted the manuscript to the Duchesse de la Valltere,
* The name was first adopted in 1718. Many guesses have been
hazarded as to its origin ; the most plausible being that it is an anagram
on " Arouet, l(e) j(eune)," the u and j being of course equivalent to v
and i.
INTRODUCTION xi
who returned it to him, saying that he should have
abstained from including in it so many indecencies,
having no need to resort to such a means of obtaining
readers. It must, however, be borne in mind that
Voltaire is never coarse from a mere delight in dabbling
in the unclean. When the work appeared, although
the title-page declared that it was translated from the
German of " M. le docteur Ralph " there was no well-
kept secret as to its true authorship. Many other of
Voltaire s friends were scandalised, and he disavowed
the work in a letter purporting to be written by one
Demad, brother of the translator ; indeed he is reported
to have spoken of the book himself as " a bad joke."
Vet it remains to-day, more than a century after the
close of his long life, his best remembered work; and,
whether we agree with the Duchesse de la Valliere in
deprecating the indecencies as unnecessary irrelevan-
cies, or whether we consider them as only marking
strong counts in the indictment of optimism, we cannot
ignore the fact that we have in it a veritable master
piece, characterised throughout by searching wit.
Of the story I do not propose to say much, not
wishing to rank myself with those editors, who as in an
English edition of " Candide " published just a century
ago think it necessary to draw attention to every
particular sally of wit, or stroke of satire, with an excla
matory foot-note, " A keen sarcasm ! " "A most capital
and pointed stroke of satire," and so on. It does, how
ever, more fittingly fall within my province to explain
xii INTRODUCTION
^ that the hook was written to expose the fallacy of the
Leibnitzian philosophy, of that optimism which Voltaire
elsewhere refers to as only a hopeless fatalism. All is for
~fhe best in this best of all possible worlds, is it ? nesays
in effect, ivncl inimeclTatelv proceeds to skefchlEe career
of a young man who holds this doctrine. How can the
youthful Candide reconcile the optimism which he so
ingenuously accepts from Professor Pangloss, with the
entttesiTmi series and horrors of human life, with waft
earthquake, disease, shipwreck and " man s inhumanity
to man ? " The tiling is impossible ; and as the reader
surveys Voltaire s picture of human life he cannot
i^cfrain__froni stig"intN in [ 1 ; Pnnglnss as a fool and from
allowing his sympathies to flow more and more towa_rds_
the rival philosopher Martin. If we take Pangloss, as
we justly may, to represent Leibnitz, we may well take
Martin as a fictional representative of Voltaire hims e 1 f ^
and therein read a pretty piece of allegory. Candide.
wilfully hlii id, accepted the teaching of his preceptor,
as so many persons during the first halfjjf the eighteenth
century _ accepted thc^liJlQSOphy of Leibnitz jTand then_
came Martin to give him a truer view of things as they
were, even as Vn1t?urjR_hirnself had rnmp to pnnr scorn
upon the dendeninp; philosophy which declarPf} that
all_that is is for the_besLl
M. Sarcey, I have said, speaks for the present century
as against the last in claiming Candide" as Voltaire s
masterpiece, and it is certain that if we refer to the
recorded opinions of many of Voltaire s brilliant con-
INTRODUCTION xiii
temporaries, \ve find but slighting references to the
work. Grimm, while not wholly condemning it,
thought that "Candide" should properly speaking he-
looked upon as a work of its author s immature youth !
Madame de Stael woefully misunderstood the book,
"the gaiety of which may be styled infernal," saying,
" it seems written by a being of a nature other than
ours, indifferent to our lot, satisfied with our sufferings,
and laughing like a demon or an ape at the miseries of
the human race, with which he had nothing in
common " ! La Harpe bracketed " Candide " with a
number of other slight " romances of piquant originality
in which reason consents to amuse French frivolity, to
obtain the right of instructing it," and, as Sarcey puts it,
placed the story " well below La Henriade which no
one can now read, and Merope which was represented
once in twenty years at the Odeon before a public which
yawned." Jean Jacques Rousseau, on the flimsiest
grounds, declared "Candide" to be a reply to a letter
which he had addressed to Voltaire on the views ex
pressed by the latter in his poem on the earthquake at
Lisbon, but went on to say that he had never read the
story.
From eighteenth-century French criticism which time
has proved to be so far wide of the mark, one may turn
with pardonable pride to the time-justified words of an
English writer of the same period on the same subject.
Samuel Johnson, by no means friendly to Voltaire,
Declared that " Candide " had more power in it than
xiv INTRODUCTION
anything else which that author had written. It is a
curious fact which may be dwelt upon here that
Voltaire and Johnson, so dissimilar in genius, took up
their pens at about the same time to deal with the same
subject in not dissimilar styles. Each deeply impressed
by the vanity of human wishes ran a-tilt at the accepted
theory of optimism. " Candide," as we have seen, was
issued in February 1759 and in March or April of the
same year " Rasselas " made its appearance in London.
Boswell in noting this important matter says, " Voltaire s
Candide written to refute the system of optimism,
which it has nrrr.m1i^lipd_\yjth hril|jant
wonderfully similar in its plan and conduct to Johnson s
Rasselas ; insomuch, that I have heard Johnson say,
that if the two had not been published so closely one
after the other that there was not time for imitation, it
would have been in vain to deny that the scheme of
that which came latest was taken from the other.
r>n illustrated by both these works
was the same, namely that in our present state there is
more evil than good, the intention of the writers was very
different. Voltaire, I am afraid, meant only by wanton
profaneness to obtain a sportive victory over religion,
and to discredit the belief of a superintendingprovidence.
Johnson meant by showing the unsatisfactory nature
of things temporal, to direct the hopes of man to things
eternal." A detailed comparison of the two works would
not be without interest, but this is not the place for it.
The same year which saw the first publication of
INTRODUCTION xv
"Candide," in Paris or Geneva, saw an English trans
lation of it appear in London. That early trans
lation forms the basis of the present one. A close
comparison with the original revealed the fact that the
anonymous translator had occasionally interpolated
words and sentences of his own, and had also here and
there omitted brief passages; the former have now
been dropped and the latter restored, while the whole
has undergone verbal revision with the object of giving
the stvlc of the original, so far as that may be, in an
alien language. In the second (1761) edition of his
work Voltaire added several brief sentences and one
long passage ; in the present volume these are marked
by being enclosed within brackets. Such was the
success of " Candide," despite the disfavour with which
it was received by some, that a " second part " soon
followed (in 1761) ; this, however, was not the work of
Voltaire, but is attributed to Thorel of Campigneulles
who died in 1809. This second part has often been
printed with Voltaire s work ; it was, indeed, twice so
issued during the philosopher s lifetime. The late Pro
fessor Henry Morley in issuing "Candide " in his " Uni
versal Library " gave the two parts together as though
they were both by Voltaire, and as though they together
formed the work as issued in 1759 ; which was a curious
blunder on the part of so well informed a professor of
literature. Nor was this " second part " the only book
which "Candide" occasioned, a third part, "Candide
in Denmark " was published by another writer and
xvi INTRODUCTION
quite a library of hooks sprang up around the famous
novelette during the first half-century of its existence.
And here 1 will close with a pertinent passage from
M. Sarcey, a passage accentuating the fact that the
doctrine of Work so energetically preached to the nine
teenth century by Carlyle, was the same as that preached
to the eighteenth by Voltaire : ." Candide would be an
incomplete masterpiece if the philosopher, after having
paraded our miseries before our eyes, did not revive us
by a comforting Conclusion. This conclusion, all the
-world knows it -Let us cultivate our garden. Yes, with
out doubt, there is only one truly good thing upon this
earth : it is Action. One is happy only if one works, if
one does that which one has to do, if one cultivates his
garden. Let us cultivate our garden ! It is the one
word in this century of dreams and pessimists ; it is
the one word for all centuries. And it is because Voltaire
has JV^I!l 1llntpf l it " f^nriifle thnt. r-inHiHp -jvi H
WALTER JERROLD.
How Candide was brought up in a Magnificent Castle, and
how he was Expelled thence
IN a castle of Westphalia, belonging to the Baron of
Thunder-ten-Tronckh, lived a youth, whom nature had
endowed with the most gentle manners. His counten
ance was a true picture of his soul. He combined a
true judgment with simplicity of spirit, which was the
reason, 1 apprehend, of his being called Candide. The
old servants of the family suspected him to have been
the son of the Baron s sister, by a good, honest gentle
man of the neighbourhood, whom that young lady
would never marry because he had been able to prove
A
2 CANDIDE
only seventy-one quarterings, the rest of his genea
logical tree having been lost through the injuries of
time.
The Baron was one of the most powerful lords in
Westphalia, for his castle had not only a gate, but
windows. His great hall, even, was hung with tapestry.
All the dogs of his farmyards formed a pack of hounds
at need ; his grooms were his huntsmen ; and the
curate of the village was his grand almoner. They
called him " My Lord," and laughed at all his stories.
The Baron s lady weighed about three hundred and
\ fifty pounds, and was therefore a person of great con
sideration, and she did the honours of the house \vith
a dignity that commanded still greater respect. (_Her
daughter Cunegonde was seventeen years of age, fresh-
coloured, comely, plump and desirablej The Baron s
son seemed to be in every respect worthy of his father.
The Preceptor Pangloss 1 was the oracle of the family,
and little Candide heard his lessons with all the good
faith of his age and character.
Pangloss was professor of metaphysico-theologico-
cosmolo-nigology. ^He pi^fed-adjviiniblv th;it there is
no effect without a cause, and that, in this best of all
^possible worlds, the Baron s castle was the most magni
ficent of castles, and his lady the bestof all possible
It is demonstrable," said he, "that things cannot
be otherwise than as they are ; for all being created for
y an end, all is necessarily for the best end. {,,/Observe,
that the nose has been formed to bear spectacles thus
we have spectacles. Legs are visibly designed for
stockings and we have stockings. Stones were made
CANDIDE 3
to he hewn, ;md to construct castles therefore my
lord has a magnificent castle ; for the greatest baron in
the province ought to be the best lodged. Pigs were
made to be eaten therefore we eat pork all the year
round. (^Consequently they who assert that all is well
have said a foolish thing, they should have said all
is for the best."~)i
Candide listened attentively and believed innocently;
for he thought Miss Cunegonde extremely beautiful,
though he never had the courage to tell her so. He
concluded that after the happiness of being born
Baron of Thunder-ten-Tronckh, the second degree of
happiness was to be Miss Cunegonde, the third that of
seeing her every day, and the fourth that of hearing
Master Pangloss, the greatest philosopher of the whole
province, and consequently of the whole world.
One day Cunegonde, while walking near the castle,
in a little wood which they called a park, saw between
the bushes, Dr. Pangloss giving a lesson in experi
mental natural philosophy to her mother s chamber
maid, a little brown wench, very pretty and very
docile. As Miss Cunegonde had a great disposition
for the sciences, she breathlessly observed the repeated
experiments of which she was a witness ; she clearly
perceived the force of the Doctor s reasons, the effects,
and the causes ; she turned back greatly flurried, quite
pensive, and filled with the desire to be learned ;
dreaming that she might well be a sufficient reason for
young Candide, and he for her.
She met Candide on reaching the castle and blushed;
Candide blushed also ; she wished him good morrow
in a faltering tone, and Candide spoke to her without
4 CAXDIDE
knowing what he said. The next clay after dinner, as
they went from table, Cunegonde and Candida found
themselves behind a screen ; Cunegonde let fall her
handkerchief, Candide picked it up, she took him
innocently by the hand, the youth as innocently kissed
the -young lady s hand with particular vivacity, sensi
bility and grace ; their lips met, their eyes sparkled,
their knees trembled, their hands strayed. Baron
Thunder-ten-Tronckh passed near the screen and
beholding this cause and effect, chased Candide from
the castle with great kicks on the backside; Cunegonde
fainted away ; she was boxed on the ears by the
Baroness, as soon as she came to herself ; and all was
consternation in this most magnificent and most agree
able of all possible castles.
I!
What became of Candide among the Bulgarians
CANDIDK, driven from terrestrial paradise, walked a
long while without knowing where, weeping, raising
his eyes to heaven, turning them often towards the most
magnificent of castles which imprisoned the purest of
noble young ladies. He lay down to sleep without
supper, in the middle of a field between two furrows.
The snow fell in large flakes. Next day Candide, all
benumbed, dragged himself towards the neighbouring
town which was called Waldberghoff-trarbk-dikdorff,
having no money, dying of hunger and fatigue, he
6 CANDIDE
stopped sorrowfully at the door of an inn. Two men
dressed in blue observed him.
"Comrade," said one, "here is a well-built young
fellow, and of a proper height."
They went up to Candide and very civilly invited
him to dinner.
" Gentlemen," replied Candide, with a most engaging
modesty, "you do me great honour, but I have not
wherewithal to pay my share."
" Oh, sir," said one of the blues to him, " people of
your appearance and of your merit never pay anything :
are you not five feet five inches high ? "
" Yes, sir, that is my height," answered he, making a
low bow.
"Come, sir, seat yourself ; not only will we pay your
reckoning, but we will never suffer such a man as you
to want money ; men are only born to assist one
another."
a" You are right," said Candide ; " this is what 1 was
hvays taught by Mr. Pangloss, and I see plainly that
is for the best."
They begged of him to accept a few crowns. He
took them, and wished to give them his note ; they
refused ; they seated themselves at table.
" Love you not deeply ? "
"Oh yes," answered he ; " I deeply love Miss Cune-
gonde."
" No," said one of the gentlemen, " we ask you if
you do not deeply love the King of the Bul
garians ? "
" Not at all," said he ; " for I have never seen
him."
CANDIDE 7
" What ! he is the best of kings, ;ind we must drink
his health."
"Oh ! very willingly, gentlemen/ and he drank.
"That is enough," they tell him. " Now you are the
help, the support, the defender, the hero of the Bul
garians. Your fortune is made, and your glory is
assured."
Instantly they fettered him, and carried him away to j
the regiment. There he was made to wheel about to the
right, and to the left, to draw his rammer, to return his V CiiJ ^1
rammer, to present, to (ire, to march, and they gave him /
thirty blows with a cudgel. The next clay he did his I
exercise a little less badly, and he received but twenty 1
blows. The day following they gave him only ten, and /
he was regarded by his comrades as a prodigy.
Candide, all stupefied, could not yet very well realise
how he was a hero. He resolved one fine day in
spring to go for a walk, marching straight before him,
believing that it was a privilege of the human as well as
of the animal species to make use of their legs as they
pleased. He had advanced two leagues when he was
overtaken by four others, heroes of six feet, who bound
him and carried him to a dungeon. He was asked
which he would like the best, to be whipped six-ancl-
thirty times through all the regiment, or to receive at
once twelve balls of lead in his brain. He vamjv_said
that human will is free, and that he chose neither the,
one nor tTTe other. He was forced to make a choice ;
"TK r "dL 1 lL 1 llfTnTed,"1n virtue of" that gift of God called
liberty, to run the gauntlet six-and-thirty times. He
bore this twice. The regiment was composed of two
thousand men ; that composed for him four thousand
6
CANDIDE
strokes, which hud hare all his muscles and nerves,
from the nape of the neck quite down to his rump.
As they were going to proceed to a third whipping,
Candide, able to hear no more, begged as a favour that
they would be so good as to shoot him. He obtained
this favour ; they bandaged his eyes, and bade him
kneel down. The King of the Hujgarians passed at this
moment and ascertained the nature of the crime. As
_^__^^^
lic^TTad glVaT~TaTent, lie understood from all that he
extremely ignorant of tin-things of
accorded him his pardon with a clemency which will
bring him praise in all the journals, and throughout all
ages.
An able surgeon cured Candide in three weeks by
means of emollients taught by Dioscorides. He had
already a little skin, and was able to march when
the King of the Bulgarians gave battle to the King of
the Abares.-
How Candide made his Escape from the Bulgarians, and what
afterwards became of him
THKKK was never anything so gallant, so spruce, so
brilliant, and so well disposed as the two armies.
Trumpets, fifes, hautboys, drums, and cannon made
music such as Hell itself had never heard. The
cannons first of all laid flat about six thousand men
on each side ; the muskets swept away from this best
of worlds nine or ten thousand ruffians who infested
its surface. The bayonet was also a sufficient reason
for the death of several thousands. The whole might
amount to thirty thousand souls. Candide, who
io CANDIDE
trembled like a philosopher, hid himself as well as he
rould during this heroic butchery.
At length, while the two kings were causing Te
Deum to be sung each in his own camp. _Candide
r "~Hvrj| to )*" ,uu1 j eason elsewhere on effects and
causes. He passed over heaps of dead and dying, and
irst reached a neighbouring village ; it was in cinders,
it was an Abare village which the Bulgarians had
burnt accc)iTliiigto_JJife-Uwxii_aL w-rtf. Here, old men":
covered with wounds, beheld their wives, hugging
their children to their bloody breasts, massacred
before their faces ; there, their daughters, disem
bowelled and breathing their last after having satis
fied the natural wants of Bulgarian heroes ; while-
others, half burnt in the flames, begged to be
despatched. The earth was strewed with brains, arms,
and legs.
Candide fled quickly to another village ; it belonged
to the Bulgarians ; and the Abarian heroes had treated
it in the same way. Candide, walking always over
palpitating limbs or across ruins, arrived at last beyond
the seat of war, with a few provisions in his knapsack,
and Miss Cunegonde always in his heart. His pro
visions failed him when he arrived in Holland ; but
having heard that everybody was rich in that country,
and that they were Christians, he did not doubt but he
should meet with the same treatment from them as: he
had met with in the baron s castle, before Miss
Cunegonde s bright eyes were the cause of his expul
sion thence.
He asked alms of several grave looking people,
who all answered him, that if he continued to follow
CAXD1DK ii
this trade they would confine him to the house of
correction, where he should be taught to get a living.
The next he addressed was a man who had been
haranguing a large assembly for a whole hour on the
subject of charity. But the orator, looking askew,
said :
" What are you doing here ? Are you for the good
cause ? "
" There can be no effect without a cause," modestly
answered Candide ; " the whole is necessarily con
catenated and arranged for the best. It was necessary
for me to have been banished the presence of Miss
Cunegonde, to have afterwards run the gauntlet, and
now it is necessary I should beg my bread until I learn
to earn it ; all this cannot be otherwise."
" My friend," said the orator to him, "do you believe
the Pope to be anti-Christ ?"
" 1 have not heard it," answered Candide ; " but
whether he be, or whether he be not, I want bread."
"Thou dost not deserve to eat," said the other.
" Begone, rogue ; begone, wretch ; do not come near
me again."
The orator s wife, putting her head out of the
window, and spying a man that doubted whether the
Pope was Anti-Christ, poured over him a full . . .
Oh, heavens ! to what excess does religious zeal carry
the ladies.
A man who had never been christened, a good
Anabaptist, named James, beheld the cruel and igno
minious treatment shown to one of his brethren, an
unfeathered biped with a rational soul, he took him
home, cleaned him, gave him bread and beer, pre-
I 2
CANDIDE
sented him with two florins, and even wished to teach
him the manufacture of Persian stuffs which they
make in Holland. Candide, almost prostrating himself
before him, cried :
" Master Pangloss has well said that all is for the
best in this world, for I am infinitely more touched
by your extreme generosity than with the inhumanity
of that gentleman in the black cloak and his lady."
The next day, as he took a walk, he met a beggar
all covered with scabs, his eyes diseased, the end of
his nose eaten away, his mouth distorted, his teeth
black, choking in his throat, tormented with a violent
cough, and spitting out a tooth at each effort.
r;
IV
How Candide found his old Master Pangloss, and what Happened
to them
CAXDIDK, yet more moved with compassion than with
horror, gave to this shocking beggar the two florins
which he had received from the honest Anabaptist
James. The spectre looked at him very earnestly,
dropped a few tears, and fell upon his neck. Candide
recoiled in disgust.
"Alas!" said one wretch to the other, "do you no
longer know your dear Pangloss ? "
" What do I hear ? You, my dear master ! you in
this terrible plight ! What misfortune has happened
14 CAXDIDE
to you ? Why arc you no longer in the most mag
nificent of castles ? What has become of Miss
Cunegonde, the pearl of girls, and nature s master
piece ? "
" 1 am so weak that I cannot stand," said Pangloss.
I pon which Candide carried him to the Anabaptist s
stable, and gave him a crust of bread. As soon as
Pangloss had refreshed himself a little :
" Well," said Candide, " Cunegonde ? "
" She is dead," replied the other.
Candide fainted at this word ; his friend recalled his
senses with a little bad vinegar which he found by
chance in the stable. Candide re-opened his eyes.
"Cunegonde is dead! Ah, best of worlds, where
art them ? But of what illness did she die ? Was it
not for grief, upon seeing her father kick me out of his
magnificent castle ? "
" Xo," said Pangloss, " she was ripped open by the
Bulgarian soldiers, after having been violated by many;
thjy broke the Baron s head for attempting to defend
her ; my lady, her mother, was cut in pieces ; my poor
pupil was served just in the same manner as his sister ;
and as for the castle, they have not left one stone upon
another, not a barn, nor a sheep, nor a duck, nor a
tree ; but we have had our revenge, for the Abares
have done the very same thing to a neighbouring
barony, which belonged to a Bulgarian lord."
At this discourse Candide fainted again ; but coming
to himself, and having said all that it became him to
say, inquired into the cause and effect, as well as into
the sii/jicicnt reason that had reduced Pangloss to so
miserable a plight.
CANDIDE
"Alas!" said the other, "it was love; love, the
comfort of the human species, the preserver of the
universe, the soul of all sensible beings, love, tender
love."
"Alas!" said Candide, "1 know this love, that
sovereign of hearts, that soul of our souls ; yet it never
cost me more than a kiss and twenty kicks on the
backside. How could this beautiful cause produce in
you an effect so abominable."
Pangloss made answer in these terms: "Oh, my
dear Candide, you remember Paquette, that pretty
wench who waited on our noble Baroness ; in her arms
I tasted the delights of paradise, which produced in me
those hell torments with which you see me devoured ;
she was infected with them, she is perhaps dead of
them. This present Paquette received of a learned
Grey Friar, who had traced it to its source ; he had
had it of an old countess, who had received it from
a cavalry captain, who owed it to a marchioness, who
. took it from a page, who had received it from a Jesuit,
who when a novice had it in a direct line trom one of
the companions of Christopher Columbus. 3 For im
part 1 shall give it to nobody, I am dying."
" Oh, Pangloss ! " cried Candide, " what a strange
genealogy ! Is not the Devil the original stock of
it ? "
" Not at all," replied this great man, " it was a thing
unavoidable, a necessary ingredient in the best of
worlds ; for if Columbus had not in an island of
America caught this disease, which contaminates the
source of life, frequently even hinders generation, and
i which is evidently opposed to the great end of nature,
16 CAXDIDE
we should have neither chocolate nor cochineal. We
are also to observe that upon our continent, this dis
temper is like religious controversy, confined to a
particular spot. The Turks, the Indians, the Persians,
the Chinese, the Siamese, the Japanese, know nothing
of it ; hut there is a sufficient reason for believing that
they will know it in their turn in a few centuries. In
the meantime, it has made marvellous progress among
us, especially in those great armies composed of honest
well-disciplined hirelings, who decide the destiny of
states ; for we may safely affirm that when an army
of thirty thousand men fights another of an equal
number, there are about twenty thousand of them
p x d on each side."
"Well, this is wonderful !" said Candide, "but you
must get cured."
" Alas ! how can I ? " said Pangloss, " I have not
a farthing, my friend, and all over the globe there is
no letting of blood or taking a glister, without paying,
or somebody paying for you."
These last words determined Candide ; he went and
flung himself at the feet of the charitable Anabaptist
James, and gave him so touching a picture of the state
to which his friend was reduced, that the good man
did not scruple to take Dr. Pangloss into his house,
and had him cured at his expense. In the cure Pan-
gloss lost only an eye and an ear. He wrote well,, and
knew arithmetic perfectly. The Anabaptist James
made him his book-keeper. At the end of two months,
being obliged to go to Lisbon about some mercantile
affairs, he took the two philosophers with him in his
ship. Pangloss explained to him how everything was
17
CANDIDE
so constituted that it could not he better.
was not of this opinion.
fr TFis more likely," said he, " mankind have a little
corrupted nature, for they were not horn wolves, and
they have become wolves ; God has given them neither
/ cannon of four-and-twenty pounders, nor hayonets ;
and yet they have made cannon and hayonets to
destroy one another. Into this account I might throw
not only bankrupts, hut Justice which seizes on the
effects of hankrimts to cheaLlhe_crcditors."
^^^-ATTlhis was indispensable," replied the- one-eyed
doctor, " for private misfortunes make the general
good, so that the more private misfortunes there are
the greater is the general good."
While he reasoned, the sky darkened, the winds blew
from the four quarters, and the ship was assailed by a
most terrible tempest within sight of the port of
Lisbon.
V
Tempest, Shipwreck, Earthquake, and what became of Doctor
Pangloss, Candide, and James the Anabaptist
HALF dead of that inconceivable anguish which the
rolling of a ship produces, one half of the passengers
were not even sensible of the danger. The other half
shrieked and prayed. The sheets were rent, the masts
broken, the vessel gaped. Work who would, no one
heard, no one commanded. The Anabaptist being
upon deck bore a hand ; when a brutish sailor struck
him roughly and laid him sprawling ; but with the
violence of the blow he himself tumbled head fore-
20 CAXDIDE
most overboard, and stuck upon a piece of the
broken mast. Honest James ran to his assistance,
hauled him up, and from the effort he made was
precipitated into the sea in sight of the sailor,
who left him to perish, without deigning to look
at him. Candide drew near and saw his bene
factor, who rose above the water one moment and
was then swallowed up for ever. He was just
going to jump after him, but was prevented by the
philosopher Pangloss, who demonstrated to him that
the Bay of Lisbon had been made on purpose for the
Anabaptist to be drowned. While he was proving this
a priori, the ship foundered ; all perished except
Pangloss, Candide, and that brutal sailor who had
drowned the good Anabaptist. The villain swam
safely to the shore, while Pangloss and Candide were
borne thither upon a plank.
As soon as they recovered themselves a little they
walked toward Lisbon. They had some money left,
with which they hoped to save themselves from
_^starving, after they had escaped drowning. Scarcely"
had they reached the city, lamenting the death of their
benefactor, when they felt the earth tremble under their
feet. The sea swelled and foamed in the harbour, and
beat to pieces the vessels riding at anchor. Whirlwinds
of fire and ashes covered the streets and public places ;
houses fell, roofs were flung upon the pavements, and
the pavements were scattered. Thirty thousand
inhabitants of all ages and sexes were crushed under
\ > the ruins. 4 The sailor, whistling and swearing, said
there was booty to be gained here.
CANDIDE 21
" What can he the sufficient reason of this pheno
menon ?" said Pangloss.
" This is the Last Day ! " cried Candicle.
The sailor ran among the ruins, facing death to
find money; finding it, he took it, got drunk, and
having slept himself sober, purchased the favours of
the first good-natured wench whom he met on the
ruins of the destroyed houses, and in the midst of
the dying and the dead. Pangloss pulled him by the
sleeve.
" My friend," said he, " this is not right. You sin
against the iinircrsul mtson ; you choose your time
badly."
"S blood and fury ! " answered the other ; " I am a
sailor and born at Hatavia. Four times have I
trampled upon the crucifix in four voyages to Japan ; :>
a fig for thy universal reason."
Some falling stones had wounded Candicle. He lay
stretched in the street covered with rubbish.
"Alas ! " said he to Pangloss, "get me a little wine
and oil ; 1 am dying."
"This concussion of the earth is no new thing,"
answered Pangloss. " The city of Lima, in America,
experienced the same convulsions last year ; the same
cause, the same effects ; there is certainly a train 01
sulphur under ground from Lima to Lisbon."
" Nothing more probable," said Candicle ; " but for
the love of God a little oil and wine."
" How, probable ? " replied the philosopher. " I
maintain that the point is capable of being demon
strated."
22 CANDIDE
Can elide fainted away, and Pangloss fetched him some
water from a neighbouring fountain.
The following day they rummaged among the ruins
and found provisions, with which they repaired their
exhausted strength. After this they joined with others
in relieving those inhabitants who had escaped death.
Some, whom they had succoured, gave them as good a
dinner as they could in such disastrous circumstances ;
true, the repast was mournful, and the company
moistened their bread with tears ; but Pangloss con
soled them, assuring them that things could not be
^otherwise.
" For," said he, " all that is is for the best. If there-
is a volcano at Lisbon it cannot be elsewhere. It is
impossible that things should be other than they are ;
.for everything is right."
A little man dressed in black, Familiar of the Inquisi
tion, who sat by him, politely took up his word and said :
" Apparently, then, sir, you do not believe in original
sin ; for if all is for the best there has then been
neither Fall nor punishment."
" I humbly ask your Excellency s pardon/ answered
Pangloss, still more politely ; " for the Fall and curse of
man necessarily entered into the system of the best of
worlds."
" Sir," said the Familiar, "you do not then believe in
liberty ? "
" Your Excellency will excuse me," said Pangloss ;
" liberty is consistent with absolute necessity, for it was
necessary we should be free ; for, in short, the deter
minate will "
CAXDIDK
>
Pangloss was in the middle of his sentence, when
the Familiar beckoned to his footman, who gave him ;i
glass of wine from Porto or Opporto.
VI
How the Portuguese made a Beautiful Auto-da-fe, to Prevent any
further Earthquakes; and how Candide was Publicly Whipped
AFTER the earthquake had destroyed three-fourths of
Lisbon, the sages of that country could think of no
means more effectual to prevent utter ruin than to give
the people a beautiful aiito-da-fS ; for it had been
decided by the University of Coimbra, that the burning
of a few people alive by a slow tire, and with great
ceremony, is an infallible secret to hinder the earth
from quaking.
In consequence hereof, they had seized on a Bis-
cayner, convicted of having married his godmother
26
CANDIDE
and on two Portuguese, for rejecting the bacon which
larded a chicken they were eating: 7 after dinner, they
came and secured Dr. Pangloss, jind__his disciple__
Candide, the one for sp"- l- in g 1"^ nun_d, the cither for__
having listened with an air of approbation^ They were
conducted to separate apartments, extremely cold, as
they were never incommoded by the sun. Eight days
after they were dressed in suii-bcuitos* and their heads
ornanamented with paper mitres. The mitre and s<m-
bcnito belonging to Candide were painted with reversed
flames and with devils that had neither tails nor claws :
but Pangloss s devils had claws and tails and the flames
were upright. They marched in procession thus habited
and heard a very pathetic sermon, followed by fine
church music. Candide was whipped in cadence while
they were singing ; the Biscayner, and the two men
who had refused to eat bacon, were burnt ; and
Pangloss was hanged, though that was not the custom.
The same day the earth sustained a most violent
concussion.
Candide, terrified, amazed, desperate, all bloody, all
palpitating, said to himself :
"If this is the best of possible worlds, what then
are the others ? Well, if 1 had been only whipped I
could put up with it, for I experienced that among
the Bulgarians ; but oh, my dear Pangloss ! thou
greatest of philosophers, that I should have seen you
hanged, without knowing for what ! Oh my dear
Anabaptist, thou best of men, that thou should st
have been drowned in the very harbour! Oh, Miss
Cunegonde, thou pearl of girls ! that thou should st
Jiave had thy belly ripped open ! "
CAN I) 1 1) K
7
Thus he was musing, scarce able to stand, preached
at, whipped, absolved, and blessed, when an old woman
accosted him saying :
" My son, take courage and follow me."
VII
How the Old Woman took care of Candide, and how he found the
object he loved
CAXDIDE did not take courage, but followed the old
woman to a decayed house, where she gave him a pot
of pomatum to anoint his sores, showed him a very
neat little bed, with a suit of clothes hanging up, and
left him something to eat and to drink.
" Eat, drink, sleep," said she, " and may our Lady
of Atocha, 9 the great St. Anthony of Padua, and the
great St. James of Compostella, receive you under their
protection. I shall be back to-morrow."
Candide, amazed at all he had suffered and still more
30 CANDIDE
with the charity of the old woman, wished to kiss her
hand.
" It is not my hand you must kiss," said the old
woman ; " 1 shall be back to-morrow. Anoint your
self with the pomatum, eat and sleep."
Candide, notwithstanding so many disasters, ate and
slept. The next morning the old woman brought him
his breakfast, looked at his back, and rubbed it herself
with another ointment : in like manner she brought
him his dinner ; and at night she returned with his
supper. The day following she went through the very
same ceremonies.
"Who are you i " said Candide ; "who has inspired
you with so much goodness ? What return can I
make you ? "
The good woman made no answer ; she returned in
the evening, but brought no supper.
"Come with me," she said, "and say nothing."
She took him by the arm, and walked with him
about a quarter of a mile into the country ; they
arrived at a lonely house, surrounded with gardens
and canals. The old woman knocked at a little door,
it opened, she led Candide up a private staircase into a
small apartment richly furnished. She left him on a
brocaded sofa, shut the door and went away. Candide
thought himself in a dream ; indeed, that he had been
dreaming unluckily all his life, and that the present
moment was the only agreeable part of it all.
The old woman returned very soon, supporting with
difficulty a trembling woman of a majestic figure,
brilliant with jewels and covered with a veil.
"Take off that veil," said the old woman to Candide.
CANDIDE 31
The young man approaches, he raises the veil with a
timid hand. Oh ! what a moment ! what surprise ! he
believes lie beholds Miss Cunegonde ! he really sees her !
it is herself ! His strength fails him, he cannot utter
a word, but drops at her feet. Cunegonde falls upon
the sofa. The old woman supplies a smelling bottle ;
they come to themselves and recover their speech. As
they be^an with broken accents, with questions and
answers interchangeably interrupted with sighs, with
tears, and cries. The old woman desired they would
make less noise and then she left them to themselves.
" What, is it you ?" said Candide, "you live ? I find
you again in Portugal ? then you have not been
ravished ? then they did not rip open your belly as
Doctor Pangloss informed me ? "
" Yes, they did," said the beautiful Cunegonde ; " but
those two accidents are not always mortal."
" Hut were your father and mother killed ? "
" It is but too true," answered Cunegonde, in tears.
" And your brother ? "
" My brother also was killed."
" And why are you in Portugal? and how did you
know of my being here ? and by what strange adven
ture did you contrive to bring me to this house ?"
" 1 will tell you all that," replied the lady, " but first
of all let me know your history, since the innocent kiss
you gave me and the kicks which you received."
Candide respectfully obeyed her, and though he was
still in a surprise, though his voice was feeble and
trembling, though his back still pained him, yet lie
gave her a most ingenuous account of everything that
had befallen him since the moment of their separation,
32 CANDIDE
Cunegonde lifted up her eyes to heaven ; shed tears
upon hearing of the death of the good Anabaptist and
of Pangloss ; after which she spoke as follows to
Candide, who did not lose a word and devoured her
with his eyes.
VIII
The History of Cunegonde
" 1 \\"AS in bed and fast asleep when it pleased God
to send the Bulgarians to our delightful castle of
Thunder-ten-Tronckh ; they slew my father and brother,
and cut my mother in pieces. A tall Bulgarian, six-
feet high, perceiving that I had fainted away at this
sight, began to ravish me ; this made me recover ; I
regained my senses, I cried, 1 struggled, I bit, 1
scratched, 1 wanted to tear out the tall Bulgarian s
eyes, not knowing that what happened at my father s
house was the usual practice of war. The brute gave
E
k
j
34 CAXDIDE
me a cut in the left side with his hanger, and the mark
is still upon me."
"Ah ! I hope I shall see it," said honest Candide.
" You shall," said Cunegonde, " but let us con
tinue."
" Do so," replied Candide.
Thus she resumed the thread of her story :
"A Bulgarian captain came in, saw me all bleeding,
and the soldier not in the least disconcerted. The
captain Hew into a passion at the disrespectful
behaviour of the brute, and slew him on my body.
He ordered my wounds to be dressed, and took me to
his quarters as a prisoner of war. [^ washed the few
shirts that he had, I did his cooking ; he thought me
very pretty he avowed it ; on the other hand, I must
own he had a good shape, and a soft and white skin ;
but he had little or no mind or philosophy, and you
might see plainly that he had never been instructed by
Doctor Pangloss. In three months time, having lost
all his money, and being grown tired of my company,
he sold me to a Jew, named Don Issachar, who traded
to Holland and Portugal, and had a strong passion
for women. This Jew was much attached to my
person, but could not triumph over it ; I resisted him
better than the Bulgarian soldier. A modest woman
may be ravished once, but her virtue is strengthened
by it. In order to render me more tractable, he
brought me to this country house. Hitherto I had
imagined that nothing could equal the beauty of
Thunder-ten-Tronckh Castle ; but I found I was mis
taken.
The Grand Inquisitor, seeing me one day at Mass,
CANDIDE 35
stared long at me, and sent to tell me that he wished
to speak on private matters. I was conducted to his
palace, where I acquainted him with the history of my
family, and he represented to me how much it was
beneath my ranktg_belong to an Jsraelite. A proposal
was then made to Don Issachar that he should resign
me to my lord. Don Issachar, being the court banker,
and a man of credit, would hear nothing of it. The
Inquisitor threatened him with an (into-dd-fc. At last *
my Jew, intimidated, concluded a bargain, by which
the house and myself shoj.ild^ belong to both in
common; ffie~ Je\v~ sTTould have for himself Monday, "")
Wednesday, and Saturday, and the Inquisitor should /
have the rest of the week. It is now six months 1
since this agreement was made. Quarrels have not s
been wanting, for they could not decide whether the /
night from Saturday to Sunday belonged to the old
law or to the new. For my part, I have so far held 1
out against both, and 1 verily believe that this is the I
reason why I am still beloved. J
"At length, to avert the scourge of earthquakes, and
to intimidate Don Issachar, my Lord Inquisitor was
pleased to celebrate an (\\ilo-i\n-fc. He did me^ the
honour to invite me to the ceremony. I hadjt jrejy^
good sejik-and the ladies were served with refresh-
ments between M.i-- and the execution. I was in
truth seized with horror~iit the rmrning of those two
Jews, and of the honest Biscayner who had married
his godmother ; but what was my surprise, my fright,
my trouble, when I saw in a san-benito and mitre a
figure which resembled that of Pangloss ! I rubbed
my eyes, I looked at him attentively, I saw him hung ;
36 C AND IDE
I fainted. Scarcely had I recovered my senses than I
saw you stripped, stark naked, and this was the height
of my horror, consternation, grief, and despair. I tell
you, truthfully, that your skin is yet whiter and of a
more perfect colour than that of my Bulgarian captain.
This spectacle redoubled all the feelings which over
whelmed and devoured me. I screamed out, and
would have said, Stop, barbarians ! but my voice
failed me, and my cries would have been useless after
you had been severely whipped. How is it possible,
said I, that the beloved Candide and the wise Pangloss
should both be at Lisbon, the one to receive a hundred
lashes, and the other to be hanged by the Grand In
quisitor, of whom I am the well-beloved ? Pangloss
most cruelly deceived me when he said that everything
in the world is for the best.
" Agitated, lost, sometimes beside myself, and some
times ready to die. of weakness, my mind was filled
with the massacre of my father, mother, and brother,
with the insolence of the ugly Bulgarian soldier, with
the stab that he gave me, with my servitude under the
Bulgarian captain, with my hideous Don Issachar,
with my abominable Inquisitor, with the execution of
Doctor Pangloss, with the grand Miserere to which
they whipped you, and especially with the kiss I gave
you behind the screen the day that I had last seen you.
I praised God for bringing you back to me after so
many trials, and I charged my old woman to take care
of you, and to conduct you hither as soon as possible.
She has executed her commission perfectly well ; I
have tasted the inexpressible pleasure of seeing you
again, of hearing you, of speaking with you. But you
C AND IDE
37
must he hungry, for myself, I am famished ; let us
have supper."
They hoth sat down to table, and, when supper was
over, they plaeed themselves once more on the sofa ;
where they were when Signor Don Issaehar arrived.
It was the Jewish Sabbath, and Issaehar had come to
enjoy his rights, and to explain his tender love.
..w
IX
What became of Cunegonde, Candide, the Grand Inquisitor,
and the Jew
Tins Issacliar was the most choleric Hebrew that had
ever been seen in Israel since the Captivity in Babylon.
"\Vhat!" said he, " thou bitch of a Cialileaii, was
not the Inquisitor enough for thee ? Must this rascal
also share with me ? "
In saying this he drew a lonj^ poniard which he
always carried about him ; and not imagining that his
adversary had any arms lie threw himself upon
Candide : but our honest Westphalian had received a
handsome sword from the old woman alon<i with the
40 CANDIDE
suit of clothes. He drew his rapier, despite his gentle
ness, and laid the Israelite stone dead upon the cushions
at Cunegonde s feet.
"Holy Virgin!" cried she, what will become of
us ? A man killed in my apartment ! If the officers
of justice come, \ve are lost ! "
" Had not Pangloss been hanged," said Candide,
" he would give us good counsel in this emergency,
for he was a profound philosopher. Failing him let
us consult the old woman."
She was very prudent and commenced to give her
opinion when suddenly another little door opened. It
was an hour after midnight, it was the beginning of
Sunday. This day belonged to my lord the Inquisitor.
He entered, and saw the whipped Candide, sword in
hand, a dead man upon the floor, Cunegonde aghast,
and the old woman giving counsel.
At this moment, the following is what passed in the
soul of Candide, and how he reasoned :
If this holy man call in assistance, he will surely
have me burnt ; and Cunegonde will perhaps be served
in the same manner; he \vas the cause of my being
cruelly whipped ; he is my rival ; and, as I have now
begun to kill, I will kill away, for there is no time to
hesitate. This reasoning was clear and instantaneous ;
so that without giving time to the Inquisitor to re
cover from his surprise, he pierced him through and
through, and cast him beside the Jew.
" Yet again ! " said Cunegonde, " now there is no
mercy for us, we are excommunicated, our last hour
has come. How could you do it ? you, naturally so
gentle, to slay a Jew and a prelate in two minutes ! "
CANDIDE 41
" My beautiful young lady," responded Candide,
" when one is a lover, jealous and whipped by the
Inquisition, one stops at nothing."
The old woman then put in her word, saying :
" There are three Andalusian horses in the stable
with bridles and saddles, let the brave Candide get them
ready ; madam has money, jewels ; let us therefore
mount quickly on horseback, though I can sit only
on one buttock ; let us set out for Cadix, it is the finest
weather in the world, and there is great pleasure in
travelling in the cool of the night."
Immediately Candide saddled the three horses, and
Cunegonde, the old woman and he, travelled thirty
miles at a stretch. While they were journeying,^the__
Holy_ Brotherhood entered the house; my lordjjii;
.Inquisitor was interred in ahandsome church, and_
Issachar s body was thrown upon a dunghill.
UandTde, Ctmegonde7 andThe old woman, had now
reached the little town of Avacena in the midst of the
mountains of the Sierra Morena, and were speaking as
follows in a public inn.
X
In what Distress Candide, Cunegonde, and the Old Woman arrived
at Cadiz ; and of their Embarkation
" WHO was it that robbed me of my money and
jewels ? " said Cunegonde, all bathed in tears. " How
shall we live i What shall we do ? Where find
Inquisitors or Jews who will give me more ? "
"Alas!" said the old woman, "I have a shrewd
suspicion of a reverend Grey Friar, who stayed lasi
night in the same inn with us at Badajos. God preserve
me from judging rashly, but he came into our room
twice, and he set out upon his journey long before us."
"Alas!" said Candide, "dear Pangloss has often
44 CANDIDE
demonstrated to me that the goods of this world are
common to all men, and that each has an equal right
to them. But, according to these principles the Grey
Friar ought to have left us enough to carry us through
our journey. Have you nothing at all left, my dear
Cunegonde ? "
" Not a farthing," said she.
"What then must we do ? " said Candide.
" Sell one of the horses," replied the old woman.
" I will ride behind Miss Cunegonde, though I can
hold myself only on one buttock, and we shall reach
Cadiz."
In the same inn there was a Benedictine prior who
bought the horse for a cheap price. Candide, Cunegonde,
and the old woman, having passed through Lucena,
Chillas, and Lebrixa, arrived at length at Cadi/.. A
fleet was there getting ready, and troops assembling to
bring to reason the reverend Jesuit Fathers of Paraguay,
accused of having made one of the native tribes in
the neighbourhood of San Sacrament revolt against
the Kings of Spain and Portugal. Candide having been
in the Bulgarian service, performed the military
exercise before the general of this little army with so
graceful an address, with so intrepid an air, and with
such agility and expedition, that he was given the
command of a company of foot. Now, he was a
captain ! He set sail with Miss Cunegonde, the old
woman, two valets and the two Andalusian horses,
which had belonged to the grand Inquisitor of
Portugal.
During their voyage they reasoned a
the philosophy of poor Pangloss.
CANDIDE 45
" \Vc are going into another world," said Candide ;
" and surely it must be there that all is for the best.
For I must confess there is reason to complain a little
of what passeth in our world in regard to both natural
and moral philosophy."
" I love you with all my heart," said Cunegonde ;
" but my soul is still full of fright at that which I have
seen and experienced."
"All will be well," replied Candide; "the sea of
this new world is already better than our European
sea ; it is calmer, the winds more regular. It is cer
tainly the Xew World which is the best of all possible
worlds."
"God grant it," said Cunegonde ; " but I have been
so horribly unhappy there that my heart is almost
closed to hope."
" You complain," said the old woman ; " alas ! you
have not known such misfortunes as mine."
Cunegonde almost broke out laughing, linding the
good woman very amusing, for pretending to have
been as unfortunate as she.
" Alas !" said Cunegonde, " my good mother, unless
you have been ravished by two Bulgarians, have
received two deep wounds in your belly, have had two
castles demolished, have had two mothers cut to pieces
before your eyes, and two of your lovers whipped at
an (iiito-ilii-fc, 1 do not conceive how you could be
more unfortunate than 1. Add that 1 was born a
baroness of seventy-two quarterings and have been a
cook ! "
"Miss," replied the old woman, "you do not know
my birth ; and were I to show you my backside, you
4 6
c AND i DP:
would not talk in that manner, but would suspend your
judgment."
This speech having raised extreme curiosity in the
minds of Cune^onde and Candide, the old woman
spoke to them as follows.
XI
History of the Old Woman
" I HAD not always bleared eyes and red eyelids ; neither
did my nose always touch my chin ; nor was I always a
servant. I am the daughter of Pope Urban X. 10 and of
the Princess of Palestrina. Until the age of fourteen I
was brought up in a palace, to which all the castles of
your German barons would scarcely have served for
stables ; and one of my robes was worth more than all
the magnificence of Westphalia. As I grew up I
improved in beauty, wit, and every graceful accom
plishment, in the midst of pleasures, hopes and respect-
48 CANDIDE
tul homage. Already I inspired love. My throat was
formed, and such a throat ! white, firm, and shaped
like that of the Venus of Medieis ; and what eyes !
what eyelids ! what black eyebrows ! such flames
darted from my dark pupils that they eclipsed the
scintillation of the stars as I was told by the poets in
our part of the world. My waiting women, when
dressing and undressing me, used to fall into an
ecstasy, whether they viewed me before or behind ; how
glad would the gentlemen have been to perform that
office for them !
" 1 was affianced to the most excellent Prince of Massa
Carara. Such a prince ! as handsome as myself, sweet-
tempered, agreeable, brilliantly witty, and sparkling with
love. 1 loved him as one loves for the first time with
idolatry, with transport. The nuptials were prepared.
There was surprising pomp and magnificence ; there
were fetes, carousals, continual opcni boiijj c ; and all
Italy composed sonnets in my praise, though not one
of them was passable. I was just upon the point of
reaching the summit of bliss, when an old marchioness
who had been mistress to the Prince, my husband,
invited him to drink chocolate with her. He died in
less than two hours of most terrible convulsions. But
this is only a bagatelle. My mother, in despair, and
scarcely less afflicted than myself, determined to absent
herself for some time from so fatal a place. She had a
very fine estate in the neighbourhood of Gaeta. We
embarked on board a galley of the country which was
gilded like the great altar of St. Peter s at Rome. A
Sallee corsair swooped down and boarded us. Our
men defended themselves like the Pope s soldiers ; they
CAN I) IDE 49
tiling themselves upon their knees, and threw down
their arms, begging of the corsair an absolution ///
(iiiicnlo mortis.
" Instantly they were stripped as bare as monkeys ;
my mother, our maids of honour and myself were all
served in the same manner. It is ama/ing with what
expedition those gentry undress people. But what
surprised me most was, that they thrust their fingers
into the part of our bodies which the generality of
women suffer no other instrument but pipes to enter.
It appeared to me a very strange kind of ceremony ; but
thus one judges of things when one has not seen the
world. I afterwards learnt that it was to try whether
we had concealed any diamonds. This is the practice
established from time immemorial, among civilised
nations that scour the seas. I was informed that the
very religious Knights of Malta never fail to make this
search when they take any Turkish prisoners of either
sex. It is a law of nations from which they never
deviate.
" I need not tell von how great a hardship it was for a
young princess and her mother to be made slaves and
carried to Morocco. You may easily imagine all we
had to suffer on board the pirate vessel. My mother
was still very handsome ; our maids of honour, and
even our waiting women, had more charms than are to
be found in all Africa. As for myself, I was ravishing,
was exquisite, grace itself, and 1 w.is a virgin ! I did
not remain so long ; this flower, which had been
reserved for the handsome Prince of Massa Carara, was
. He was an abominable
negro, and yet believed that he did me a great deal of
G
50 CANDIDE
honour. Certainly the Princess of Palestrina and
myself must have been very strong to go through all
that we experienced until our arrival at Morocco. But
let us pass on ; these are such common things as not
to be worth mentioning.
" Morocco swam in blood when we arrived. Fifty
sons of the Emperor Muley-Ismael " had each their
adherents ; this produced fifty civil wars, of blacks
against blacks, and blacks against tawnies, and tawnies
against tawnies, and mulattoes against mulattoes.
In short it was a continual carnage throughout the
empire.
" No sooner were we landed, than the blacks of a
contrary faction to that of my captain attempted to rob
him of his booty. ITfaext to jewels and gold we were
the most valuable things he had. 1 was witness to such
a battle as you have never seen in your European
climates. The northern nations have not that heat in
their blood, nor that raging lust for women, so common
in Africa. It seems that you Europeans have only
milk in your veins ; but it is vitriol, it is lire which runs
in those of the inhabitants of Mount Atlas and the
neighbouring countries. They fought with the fury of
the lions, tigers, and serpents of the country, to see who
should have us. A Moor seized my mother by the
right arm, while my captain s lieutenant held her by the
left ; a Moorish soldier had hold of her by one leg, and
one of our corsairs held her by the other. Thus almost
all our women were drawn in quarters by four men.
My captain concealed me behind him ; and with his
drawn scimitar cut and slashed every one that opposed
his fury. At length I saw all our Italian women, and
CANDIDE 51
my mother herself, torn, mangled, massacred, by the
monsters who disputed over them. The slaves, my
companions, those who had taken them, soldiers, sailors,
blacks, whites, mulattoes, and at last my captain, all
were killed, and I remained dying on a heap of dead.
Such scenes as this were transacted through an extent
of three hundred leagues and yet they never missed
the live prayers a day ordained by Mahomet.
"With difficulty I disengaged myself from such aheap
of slaughtered bodies, and crawled to a large orange
tree on the bank of a neighbouring rivulet, where I fell,
oppressed with fright, fatigue, horror, despair, and
hunger. Immediately after, my senses, overpowered,
gave themselves up to sleep, which was yet more
swooning than repose. I was in this state of weakness
and insensibility, between life and death, when 1 felt
myself pressed by something that moved upon my
body. I opened my eyes, and saw a white man, of
good countenance, who sighed, and who said between
his teeth : cite sci<tgur<i </V.w/r scnzti coglioni ! 1:
XII
The Adventures of the Old Woman continued
" ASTONISHED and delighted to hear my native language,
and no less surprised at what this man said, I made
answer that there were much greater misfortunes than
that of which he complained. I told him in a few
words of the horrors which I had endured, and fainted
a second time. He carried me to a neighbouring
house, put me to bed, gave me food, waited upon me,
consoled me, flattered me ; he told me that he had
never seen any one so beautiful as I, and that he never
so much regretted the loss of what it was impossible
to recover,
54 CANDIDE
" I was horn at Naples/ said he, there they geld
two or three thousand children every year ; some die
of the operation, others acquire a voice more beautiful
than that of women, and others are raised to offices of
state." This operation was performed on me with great
success and I was chapel musician to madam, the
Princess of Palestrina.
" To my mother ! cried I.
"Your mother! cried he, weeping. What! can
you he that young princess whom I brought up until
the age of six years, and who promised so early to he
as beautiful as you ?
" It is I, indeed ; but my mother lies four hundred
yards hence, torn in quarters, under a heap of dead
bodies.
" I told him all my adventures, and he made me ac
quainted with his ; telling me that he had been sent to
the Emperor of Morocco by a Christian power, to
conclude a treaty with that prince, in consequence of
which he was to he furnished with military stores and
ships to help to demolish the commerce of other
Christian Governments.
" My mission is done, said this honest eunuch ; I
go to embark for Ceuta, and will take you to Italy. Ma
die scidgum d csscir scn~<i coglioni!"
" I thanked him with tears of commiseration ; and
instead of taking me to Italy he conducted me to
Algiers, where he sold me to the Dey. Scarcely was
I sold, than that plague which had made the tour of
Africa, Asia, and Europe, broke out with great malig
nancy in Algiers. You have seen earthquakes ; but
pray, miss, have you ever had the plague ? "
CANDIDE 55
" Never," answered Cuncgonde.
"It you had," said the old woman, "you would
acknowledge thatjt is far more terrible than an earth
quake. It is common in Africa, and 1 caught it.
Imagine to yourself the distressed situation of the
daughter of a Pope, only fifteen years old, who,
in less than three months, had felt the miseries of
poverty and slavery, had been ravished almost every
day, had beheld her mother drawn in quarters, had
experienced famine and war, and was dying of the
plague in Algiers. I did not die, however, but my
eunuch, and the Dey, and almost the whole seraglio
of Algiers perished.
"As soon as the first fury of this terrible pestilence
was over, a sale was made of the Dey s slaves ; Awas
purchased by a merchant, and carried to Tunis ; this
man sold me to another merchant, who sold me again
to another at Tripoli ; from Tripoli 1 was sold to
Alexandria, from Alexandria to Smyrna, and from
Smyrna to Constantinople. At length I became the
property of an Aga of the Janissaries, who was soon
ordered away to the defence of Azof, then besieged by
the Russians.
" The Aga, who was a very gallant man, took his
whole seraglio with him, and lodged us in a small fort
on the Palus Meotides, guarded by two black eunuchs
and twenty soldiers. The Turks killed prodigious
numbers of the Russians, but the latter had their
revenge. Azof was destroyed by fire, the inhabitants
put to the sword, neither sex nor age was spared ; until
there remained only our little fort, and the enemy
wanted to starve us out. The twenty Janissaries had
56 CANDIDE
sworn they would never surrender. The extremities
of famine to which they were reduced, obliged them
to eat our two eunuchs, for fear of violating their oath.
And at the end of a few days they resolved also to
Devour the women.
V " \Ve had a very pious and humane I man, who
preached an excellent sermon, exhorting them not to
kill us all at once.
" Only cut off a buttock of each of those ladies/
said he, and you ll fare extremely well ; if you must
go to it again, there will be the same entertainment a
few days hence ; heaven will accept of so charitable
an action, and send you relief.
" He had great eloquence ; he persuaded them ; we
underwent this terrible operation. The I man applied
the same balsam to us, as he does to children after
circumcision ; and we all nearly died.
" Scarcely had the Janissaries finished the repast with
which we had furnished them, than the Russians came
in flat-bottomed boats ; not a Janissary escaped. The
Russians paid no attention to the condition we were
in. There are French surgeons in all parts of the
world ; one of them who was very clever took us under
his care he cured us ; and as long as 1 live I shall
remember that as soon as my wounds were healed he
made proposals to me. He bid us all be of good
cheer, telling us that the like had happened in many
sieges, and that it was according to the laws of war.
"As soon as my companions could walk, they were
obliged to set out for Moscow. I fell to the share of a
Boyard who made me his gardener, and gave me
twenty lashes a day. But this nobleman having in
CANDIDE 57
two years time been broke upon the wheel along with
thirty more Hoyards for some broils at court, I profited
by that event ; 1 fled. I traversed all Russia ; I was a
long time an inn-holder s servant at Riga, the same at
Rostock, at Vismar, at Leipzig, at Casscl, at Utrecht,
at Leyden, at the Hague, at Rotterdam. I waxed old
in misery and disgrace, having only one half of my
posteriors, and always remembering I was a Pope s
daughter. A hundred times_I__yyiis np<m tin- point "f
killing inyself ; but still I loved life. Thisj icliciu ous
foiHiris perhaps one of nnr most fnt^l characteristics :
foris there anything more absurd__than to wish to
carry continually a hurclerT~\vhicli one can always
tlirow down"? to detest existenr^ - "d yi-t to cling t
one s _j;xistLMict; ? in brief, to caress the serpent which
devours us J _HUjTie_haseaten our veiv heart ?
Mnthe different countries which it has been my lot
to traverse, and the numerous inns where I have been
servant, I have taken notice of a vast number of people
who held their own existence in abhorrence, and yet I
never knew of more than eight who voluntarily put an
end to their misery ; three negroes, four Englishmen,
and a German professor named Robek."Ll ended by
being servant to the Jew, Don Issachar, who placed
me near your presence, my fair lady. I am determined
to share your fate, and have been much more affected
with your misfortunes than with my own. I would
never even have spoken to you of my misfortunes, had
you not piqued me a little, and if it were not customary
to tell stories on board a ship in order to pass away
the time. In
experience, 1 know the world ; therefore I
__have had^l
advise you __J
-58
CANDIDE
to divert yourself, and prevail upon each passenger to
tell his story; and jl tbj 1 - be ""<; "f theinjill^that has
not cursed his life many a time, that has not frequently
looked upcm himself as the im happiest of mortals,
I ifive you leave to throw me headforemost intotTTe
c /
How Canclide was forced away from his fair Cunegonde
and the Old Woman
THE beautiful Cunegonde having heard the old woman s
history, paid her all the civilities due to a person of her
rank and merit. She likewise accepted her proposal,
and engaged all the passengers, one after the other, to
relate their adventures ; and then both she and Canclide
allowed that the old woman was in the right.
"It is a great pity," said Candide, "that the sage
Pangloss was hanged contrary to custom at an <into-
da-fc ; he would tell us most amazing tilings in regard
to the physical and moral evils that overspread earth
60 CANDIDE
and sea, and I should be able, with due respect, to
make a few objections."
While each passenger was recounting his story, the
ship made her way. They landed at Buenos Ayres.
Cunegonde, Captain Candide, and the old woman,
waited on the Governor, Don_FexruuidQ _d Ibaraa, y
Figueora, y Mascarenes, y Lampourdos, yjjouxa. This^
nobleman had a stateliness becoming a person who .
"bore so many names. He spoke to men with so noble
a~disdain, cat lied L liisTTose so loftily, raised his voicej>o
unmercifully, assumed so imperious an air, and stalked
with siich^intolerable pride^jjiat those_vvhp saluted him
were strong inclined to give him a good drubbing.
Cunegonde appeared to him the most beautiful lie liacl
ever met. The lirst thing he did was to ask whether
she was not the captain s wife. The manner in which
he asked the question alarmed Candide ; he durst not
say she was his wife, because indeed she was not ;
neither durst he say she was his sister, because it was
not so ; and although this obliging lie had been formerly
much in favour among the ancients, and although it
could be useful to the moderns, his soul was too pure
to betray the truth.
" Miss Cunegonde," said lie, " is to do me the honour
to marry me, and we beseech your excellency to deign
to sanction our marriage."
Don Fernando d Ibaraa, y Figueora, y Mascarenes, y
Lampourdos, y Souza, turning up his moustachios,
smiled mockingly, and ordered Captain Candide to go
and review his company. Candide obeyed, and the
Governor remained alone with Miss Cunegonde. He
declared his passion, protesting he would marry her
CANDIDE 61
the next day in the face of the church, or otherwise,
just as should be agreeable to herself. Cunegonde
asked a quarter of an hour to consider of it, to consult
the old woman, and to take her resolution.
The old woman spoke thus to Cunegonde :
" Miss, you have seventy-two quarterings, and not a
farthing ; it is now in your power -to be wife to the
greatest lord in South America, who has very beautiful
moustachios. Is it for you to pique yourself upon
inviolable fidelity ? You have been ravished by
Bulgarians ; a Jew and an Inquisitor have enjoyed
your favours. Misfortune gives sufficient excuse. I
own, that if 1 were in your place, I should have no
scruple in marrying the Governor and in making the
fortune of Captain Candide."
While the old woman spoke with all the prudence
which age and experience gave, a small ship entered
the port on board of which were an Alcalde and his
alguax.ils, and this was what had happened.
As the old woman had shrewdly guessed, it was a
Grey Friar who stole Cunegonde s money and jewels
in the town of Badajos, when she and Candide were
escaping. The Friar wanted to sell some ot the
diamonds to a jeweller ; the jeweller knew them to be
the Grand Inquisitor s. The Friar before he was hanged
confessed he had stolen them. He described the
persons, and the route thzy had taken. The flight of
Cunegonde and Candide was already known. They
were traced to Cadiz. A vessel was immediately sent
in pursuit of them. The vessel was already in the
port of Buenos Ayres. The report spread that the
Alcalde was going to land, and that he was in pursuit of
62 CAXDIDE
the murderers of my lord the Grand Inquisitor. The
prudent old woman saw at once what was to be done.
"You cannot run away," said she to Cunegonde,
"and you have nothing to fear, for it was not you that
kilL-cl my lord ; besides the Governor who loves you
will not suffer you to be- ill treated ; therefore stay "
She then ran immediately to Candide.
" Fly," said she, "or in an hour you will be burnt."
There was not a moment to lose ; but how could
he part from Cunegonde, and where could he flee for
shelter ?
XIV
How Candide and Cacambo were received by the Jesuits
of Paraguay
CAXDIDE had brought such ;i valet with him from
Cadi/, as one often meets with on the coasts of Spain
and in the American colonies. He was a quarter
Spaniard, born of a mongrel in Tucuman ; lie had been
singing-boy, sacristan, sailor, monk, pedlar, soldier and
lackey- His name was Cacambo, and he loved his
master, because his master was a very good man. He
quickly saddled the two Andalusian horses.
" Come, master, let us follow the old woman s advice;
let us start, and run without looking behind us."
64 CANDIDE
Candide shed tears.
" Oh ! my dear Cunegonde ! must I leave you just
at a time when the Governor was going to sanction our
nuptials ? Cunegonde, brought to such a distance what
will become of you ? "
" She will do as well as she can/ said Cacambo ;
"the women are never at a loss, God provides for them,
let us run."
"Whither art thou carrying me? Where shall we
go? What shall we do without Cunegonde?" said
Candida.
" By St. James of Compostella," said Cacambo, "you
were going to light against the Jesuits ; let us go to
light for them ; I know the road well, I ll conduct you
to their kingdom, where they will be charmed to have
a captain that understands the Bulgarian exercise.
You ll make a prodigious fortune ; if we cannot find
our account in one world we shall in another. It is a
great pleasure to see and do new things."
" You have before been in Paraguay, then ? " said
Candida.
" Ay, sure," answered Cacambo, " I was servant in
the College of the Assumption, and am acquainted with
the government of the good Fathers as well as I am
with the streets of Cadiz. It is an admirable govern
ment. The kingdom is upwards of three hundred
leagues in diameter, and divided into thirty provinces;
there the Fathers possess all, and the people nothing ;
it is a masterpiece of reason and justice. For my part
I see nothing so divine as the Fathers who here make
war upon the kings of Spain and Portugal, and in
Europe confess those kings ; who here kill Spaniards,
CANDIDE 65
and in Madrid send them to heaven ; this delights me,
let us push forward. You are going to be the happiest
of mortals. What pleasure will it be to those Fathers
to hear that a captain who knows the Bulgarian exer
cise has come to them ! "
As soon as they reached the first barrier, Cacambo
told the advanced guard that a captain wanted to speak
with my lord the Commandant. Notice was given to
the main guard, and immediately a Paraguayan officer
ran and laid himself at the feet of the Commandant, to
impart this news to him. Candide and Cacambo were
disarmed, and their two Andalusian horses seized.
The strangers were introduced between two files of
musketeers ; the Commandant was at the further end,
with the three-cornered cap on his head, his gown
tucked up, a sword by his side, and a spontoon 1 -" in his
hand. He beckoned, and straightway the new-comers
were encompassed by four and twenty soldiers. A
sergeant told them they must wait, that the Command
ant could not speak to them, and that the reverend
Father Provincial does not suffer any Spaniard to open
his mouth but in his presence, or to stay above three
hours in the province.
" And where is the reverend Father Provincial ? " said
Cacambo.
" He is upon the parade just after celebrating mass,"
answered the sergeant, " and you cannot kiss his spurs
till three hours hence."
" However," said Cacambo, " the captain is not a
Spaniard, but a German, he is ready to perish with
hunger as well as myself ; cannot we have something
for breakfast, while we wait for his reverence <? "
66
CAN D IDE
The sergeant went immediately to acquaint the
Commandant with what he had heard.
" God be praised ! " said the reverend Commandant,
"since he is a German, I may speak to him; take
him to my arbour."
Candide was at once conducted to a beautiful
summer-house, ornamented with a very pretty colon
nade of green and gold marble, and with trellises
enclosing parroquets, humming-birds, fly-birds, guinea-
hens and all other very rare birds. An excellent
breakfast was provided in vessels of gold ; and while
the Paraguayans were eating mai/e out of wooden
dishes, in the open fields and exposed to the heat of
the sun, the reverend Father Commandant retired to
his arbour.
He was a very handsome young man, with a full
face, white skin but high in colour ; he had an arched
eyebrow, a lively eye, red ears, vermilion lips, a bold
air, but such a boldness as neither belonged to a
Spaniard nor a Jesuit. They returned their arms to
Candide and Cacambo, and also the two Andalusian
horses ; to whom Cacambo gave some oats to eat just
by the arbour, having an eye upon them all the while
for fear of a surprise.
Candide first kissed the hem of the Commandant s
robe, then they sat down to table.
"You are, then, a German ?" said the Jesuit to him
in that language.
" Yes, reverend Father," answered Candide.
As they pronounced these words they looked at each
other with great amazement, and with such an emotion
as they could not conceal.
CANDIDE 67
"And from what part of Germany do you come?"
said the Jesuit.
" 1 am from the dirty province of Westphalia,"
answered Candide ; " I was born in the Castle of
Thunder-ten-Tronckh."
" Oh ! Heavens ! is it possible ? " cried the Com
mandant.
" What a miracle ! " cried Candide.
"Is it really you ? " said the Commandant.
" It is not possible !" said Candide.
They drew back ; they embraced ; they shed rivulets
of tears.
" What, is it you, reverend Father ? You, the
brother of the fair Cunegonde ! You, that was slain
by the Bulgarians ! You, the Baron s son ! You, a
Jesuit in Paraguay ! I must confess this is a strange
world that we live in. Oh Pangloss ! Pangloss !
how glad you would be if you had not been
hanged ! "
The Commandant sent away the negro slaves and
the Paraguayans, who served them with liquors in
goblets of rock crystal. He thanked God and St.
Ignatius a thousand times ; he clasped Candide in his
arms ; and their faces were all bathed with tears.
<You will be more surprised, more affected, and
transported," said Candide, " when I tell you that
Cunegonde, your sister, whom you believe to have
been ripped open, is in perfect health."
" Where ? "
" In your neighbourhood, with the Governor of
Buenos Ayres ; and I was going to fight against you."
Every word which they uttered in this tong conver-
68
CANDIDE
sation hut added wonder to wonder. Their souls
fluttered on their tongues, listened in their ears, and
sparkled in their eyes. As they were Germans, they
sat a good while at table, waiting for the reverend
Father Provincial, and the Commandant spoke to his
dear Candide as follows.
XV
How Candide killed the Brother of his Dear Cunegonde
" I SHALL have ever present to my memory the dreadful
day, on which I saw my father and mother killed, and
my sister ravished. When the Bulgarians retired, my
dear sister could not be found ; hut my mother, my
father, and myself, with two maid-servants and three
little boys, all of whom had been slain, were put in a
hearse to be conveyed for interment to a chapel
belonging to the Jesuits, within two leagues of our
family seat. A Jesuit sprinkled us with some holy
water ; it was horribly salt ; a few drops of it fell into
yo CANDIDE
my eyes ; the father perceived that my eyelids stirred
a little ; he put his hand upon my heart and felt it heat.
I received assistance, and at the end of three weeks
1 recovered. You know, my dear Candide, I was very
pretty ; but I grew much prettier, and the reverend
Father Didrie, 10 Superior of that House, conceived the
tenderest friendship for me ; he gave me the habit of
the order, some years after I was sent to Rome. The
Father-General needed new levies of young German
Jesuits. The sovereigns of Paraguay admit as few
Spanish Jesuits as possible ; they prefer those of other
nations as being more subordinate to their commands.
I was judged fit by the reverend Father-General to go
and work in this vineyard. We set out a Pole, a
Tyrolese and myself. Upon my arrival I was honoured
with a sub-deaconship and a lieutenancy. I am to-day
colonel and priest. We^jiliiiJJ-j^iic^a warm reception
to the King of Spain s troops ; IjL\JlLauswejLfl>r it that
they_shallbe excommunicated and well beaten. Provi
dence sendsybu here to assist us"! But is it, indeed,
true that my dear sister Cunegonde is in the neighbour
hood, with the Governor of Buenos Ayres ? "
Candide assured him on oath that nothing was more
true, and their tears began afresh.
The Baron could not refrain from embracing Can
dide ; he called him his brother, his saviour.
" Ah ! perhaps," said he, " we shall together, my
dear Candide, enter the town as conquerors, and
recover my sister Cunegonde."
" That is all I want," said Candide, " for I intended
to marry her, and I still hope to do so."
" You insolent 1 " replied the Baron, " would you
CANDIDE yr
have the impudence to marry my sister who has
seventy-two quartering ! I find tliou hast the most
consummate effrontery to dare to mention so presump
tuous a design ! "
Candide, petrified at this speech made answer :
" Reverend Father, all the quarter ings in the world
signify nothing ; I rescued your sister from the arms
of a Jew and of an Inquisitor ; she has great obliga
tions to me, she wishes to marry me ; Master Pangloss
always told me that all men are equal, and certainly
I will marry her."
" We shall see that, thou scoundrel ! " said the Jesuit
Baron de Thunder-ten-Tronckh, and that instant
struck him across the face with the flat of his sword.
Candide in an instant drew his rapier, and plunged
it up to the hilt in the Jesuit s belly ; but in pulling
it out reeking hot, he burst into tears.
"Good God!" said he, "I have killed my old
master, my friend, my brother-in-law ! 1 am Jhehest-
nature^cj^a^iirejn_ili - w^rlfl ^mj^yipf I have alreacTy"
killed three men, and of these three two were priests."
Cacambo, who stood sentry by the door of the arbour,
ran to him.
"We have nothing more for it than to sell our lives
as dearly as we can," said his master to him, "without
doubt some one will soon enter the arbour, and we
must die sword in hand."
Cacambo, who had been in a great many scrapes
in his lifetime, did not lose his head ; lie took the
Baron s Jesuit habit, put it on Candide, gave him the
square cap, and made him mount on horseback. All
this was done in the twinkling of an eye.
72 CAXDIDE
" Let us gallop fast, master, everybody will take you
for a Jesuit, going to give directions to your men, and
we shall have passed the frontiers before they will be
able to overtake us."
He flew as he spoke these words, crying out aloud
in Spanish :
" Make way, make way, for the reverend Father
Colonel."
XVI
Adventures of the Two Travellers, with Two Girls, Two Monkeys,
and the Savages called Oreillons
CAXDIDK and his valet had <*ot beyond the barrier,
before it was known in the camp that the German
Jesuit was dead. The wary Cacambo had taken care to
fill his wallet with bread, chocolate, bacon, fruit, and a
few bottles of wine. With their Andalusian horses they
penetrated into an unknown country, where they
perceived no beaten track. At length they came to a
beautiful meadow intersected with purling rills. Here
our two adventurers fed their horses. Cacambo pro
posed to his master to take some food, and he set him
an example.
K
74 CANDIDE
" Ho\v can you ask me to eat ham," said Candide,
"after killing the Baron s son, and being doomed never
more to see the beautiful Cunegonde ? What will it
avail me to spin out my wretched days and drag them
far from her in remorse and despair ? And what will
the Journal ofTrcronx" say ?"
While he was thus lamenting his fate, he went on
eating. The sun went down. The two wanderers
heard some little cries which seemed to be uttered
by women. They did not know whether they were
cries of pain or joy ; but they started up precipitately
with that inquietude and alarm which every little tiling
inspires in an unknown country. The noise was
made by two naked girls, who tripped along the
mead, while two monkeys were pursuing them and
biting their buttocks. Candide was moved with pity ;
he had learned to lire a gun in the Bulgarian service,
and he was so clever at it, that he could hit a filbert in
a hedge without touching a leaf of the tree. He took
up his double-barrelled Spanish fusil, let it off, and
killed the two monkeys.
" God be praised ! My dear Cacambo, I have rescued
those two poor creatures from a most perilous situa
tion. If I have committed a sin in killing an Inquisitor
and a Jesuit, I have made ample amends by saving the
lives of these girls. Perhaps they are young ladies
of family ; and this adventure may procure us great
advantages in this country."
He was continuing, but stopped short when he saw
the two girls tenderly embracing the monkeys, bathing
their bodies in tears, and rending the air with the most
dismal lamentations.
CANDIDE
75
" Little did I expect to see such good nature," said
he at length to Cacambo ; who made answer :
" Master, you have done a fine thing now ; you have
slain the sweethearts of those two young ladies."
" The sweethearts ! Is it possible ? You are jesting
Cacambo, I can never believe it ! "
" Dear master," replied Cacambo ; " you are sur
prised at everything. \Vh\ _sjimild__Ymi_think it so
strange that in some countries^ there are moiikcys
which Jns^HitfC tliL iiisL KL FrTntothe good graces of the
ladie
jjey"are a fourth part human, as
part Spaniard."
"T^TaTT 7 " replied Candide, " I remember to have
heard Master Pangloss say, that formerly such acci
dents used to happen ; that these mixtures were
productive of Centaurs, Fauns and Satyrs ; and that
many of the ancients had seen such monsters, but I
looked upon the whole as fabulous."
" You ought now to be convinced," said Cacambo,
" that it is the truth, and you see what use is made
of those creatures, by persons that have not had a
proper education ; all I fear is that those ladies will
play us some ugly trick."
These sound reflections induced Candide to leave
the meadow and to plunge into a wood. He supped
there with Cacambo ; and after cursing the Portuguese
inquisitor, the Governor of Buenos Ayres, and the
Baron, they fell asleep on moss. On awaking they
felt that they could not move ; for during the night
the Oreillons, who inhabited that country, and to whom
the ladies had denounced them, had bound them with
cords made of the bark of trees. They were encom-
76 CAXDIDE
passed by fifty naked Oreillons, armed with bows and
arrows, with clubs and Hint hatchets. Some were
making a large cauldron boil, others were preparing
spits, and all cried :
"A Jesuit ! a Jesuit ! we shall be revenged, we shall
have excellent cheer, let us eat the Jesuit, let us eat
him up ! "
" I told you, my dear master," cried Cacambo
sadly, " that those two girls would play us some ugly
trick."
Candide seeing the cauldron and the spits, cried :
" We are certainly going to be either roast or boiled.
Ah ! what would Master Pangloss say, were he to see
how pure nature is formed ? Everything is right,
may be, but I declare it is very hard to have lost
Miss Cunegonde and to be put upon a spit by
Oreillons."
Cacambo never lost his head.
" Do not despair," said he to the disconsolate Can
dide, " I understand a little of the jargon of these
people, 1 will speak to them."
" Be sure," said Candide, " to represent to them how
frightfully inhuman it is to cook men, and how very
un-Christian."
"Gentlemen," said Cacambo, "you reckon you are
to-day going to feast upon a Jesuit. It is all very well,
nothing is more unjust than thus to treat your enemies.
Indeed, the law of nature teaches us to kill our neigh
bour, and such is the practice all over the world. If
we do not accustom ourselves to eating them, it is
because we have better fare. But you have not the
same resources as we ; certainly it is much better to
C AND IDE 77
devour yotfr enemies than to resign to the crows and
rooks the fruits of your victory. But, gentlemen,
surely you would not choose to eat your friends. You
believe that you are going to spit a Jesuit, and he is
your defender. It is the enemy of your enemies that
you are going to roast. As for myself, I was born in
your country ; this gentleman is my master, and, far
from being a Jesuit, he has just killed one, whose
spoils he wears ; and thence comes your mistake. To
convince you of the truth of what I say, take his habit
and carry it to the first barrier of the Jesuit kingdom,
and inform yourselves whether my master did not kill
a Jesuit officer. It will not take you long, and you can
always eat us if you find that I have lied to you. But
I have told you the truth. You are too well acquainted
with the principles of public law, humanity and justice
not to pardon us."
The Oreillons found this speech very reasonable.
They deputed two of their principal people with all
expedition to inquire into the truth of the matter ;
these executed their commission like men of sense, and
soon returned with good news. The Oreillons untied
their prisoners, showed them all sorts of civilities,
ottered them girls, gave them refreshment, and recon-
ducted them to the confines of their territories, pro
claiming with great joy :
" He is no Jesuit ! He is no Jesuit ! "
Candide could not help being surprised at the cause
of his deliverance.
" What people ! " said he ; " what men ! what
manners ! If I had not been so lucky as to run Miss
Cunegonde s brother through the body, I should have
78 CANDIDE
been devoured without redemption. But, after all,
pure nature is good, since those people, instead of
feasting upon my ilesh, have shown me a thousand
civilities, when then I was not a Jesuit."
Arrival of Candide and his Valet at El Dorado, and what
they saw there
" Yor see," said Cacambo to Candide, as soon as they
had reached the frontiers of the Oreillons, "that this
hemisphere is not better than the others, take my word
for it ; let us go back to Europe by the shortest
way."
"How go back?" said Candide, "and where shall
we go ? to my own country ? The Bulgarians and the
Abares are slaying all ; to Portugal ? there I shall be
burnt ; and if we abide here we are every moment in
danger of being spitted. But how can I resolve to quit
8o CANDIDE
a part of the world where my dear Cunegonde
resides ? "
" Let us turn towards Cayenne," said Cacamho,
" there we shall find Frenchmen, wlio wander all over
the world ; they may assist us ; God will perhaps have
pity on us."
It was not easy to get to Cayenne ; they knew vaguely
in which direction to go, but rivers, precipices, robbers,
savages, obstructed them all the way. Their horses
died of fatigue. Their provisions were consumed ;
they fed a whole month upon wild fruits, and found
themselves at last near a little river bordered with cocoa
trees, which sustained their lives and their hopes.
Cacambo, who was as good a counsellor as the old
woman, said to Candide :
" \Ve are able to hold out no longer ; we have walked
enough. I see an empty canoe near the river-side ; let
us till it with cocoa-nuts, throw ourselves into it, and go
with the current ; a river always leads to some inhabited
spot. If we do not find pleasant things we shall at least
find new things."
" With all my heart," said Candide, " let us re
commend ourselves to Providence."
They rowed a few leagues, between banks in some
places flowery, in others barren ; in some parts smooth,
in others rugged. The stream ever widened, and at
length lost itself under an arch of frightful rocks which
reached to the sky. The two travellers had the courage
to commit themselves to the current. The river,
suddenly contracting at this place, whirled them along
with a dreadful noise and rapidity. At the end of four
and twenty hours they saw daylight again, but their
CANDIDE Hi
canoe was dashed to pieces against the rocks. For a
league they had to creep from rock to rock, until at
length they discovered an extensive plain, bounded by
inaccessible mountains. The country was cultivated as
much for pleasure as for necessity. On all sides the
useful was also the beautiful. The roads were covered,
or rather adorned, with carriages of a glittering form
and substance, in which were men and women of
surprising beauty, drawn by large red sheep which
surpassed in fleetness the finest coursers of Andalusia,
Tetuan, and Mequinez."
" Here, however, is a country," said Candide, " which
is better than Westphalia."
He stepped out with Cacambo towards the first village
which lie saw. Some children dressed in tattered
brocades played at quoits on the outskirts. Our
travellers from the other world amused themselves In-
looking on. The quoits were large round pieces,
yellow, red and green, which cast a singular lustre !
The travellers picked a few of them off the ground ;
this was of gold, that of emeralds, the other of rubies
the least of them would have been the greatest
ornament on the Mogul s throne.
"Without doubt," said Cacambo, "these children
must be the king s sons that are playing at quoits ! "
The village schoolmaster appeared at this moment
and called them to school.
"There," said Candide, "is the preceptor of the
royal family."
The little truants immediately quitted their game,
leaving the quoits on the ground with all their other
playthings. Candide gathered them up, ran to the
L
82 CANDIDE
master, and presented them to him in a most humble
manner, giving him to understand by signs that their
royal highnesses had forgotten their gold and jewels.
The schoolmaster, smiling, flung them upon the ground;
then, looking at Candide with a good deal of surprise,
went about his business.
The travellers, however, took care to gather up the
gold, the rubies, and the emeralds.
" Where are we ? " cried Candide. " The king s
children in this country must be well brought up,
since they are taught to despise gold and precious
stones."
Cacambo was as much surprised as Candide. At
length they drew near the first house in the village.
It was built like an European palace. A crowd of
people pressed about the door, and there were still
more in the house. They heard most agreeable music,
and were aware of a delicious odour of cooking.
Cacambo went up to the door and heard they
were talking Peruvian ; it was his mother tongue,
for it is well known that Cacambo was born in
Tucuman, in a village where no other language was
spoken.
" I will be your interpreter here," said he to Candide ;
" let us go in, it is a public-house."
Immediately two waiters and two girls, dressed in
cloth of gold, and their hair tied up with ribbons,
invited them to sit clown to table with the landlord.
They served four dishes of soup, each garnished
with two young parrots ; a boiled condor 1 " which
weighed two hundred pounds ; two roasted monkeys,
of excellent flavour ; three hundred humming-birds in
CANDIDE 83
one dish, and six hundred fly-birds in another ;
exquisite ragouts ; delicious pastries ; the whole served
up in dishes of a kind of rock-crystal. The waiters and
girls poured out several liqueurs drawn from the sugar
cane.
Most of the company were chapmen and waggoners,
all extremely polite ; they asked Cacambo a few
questions with the greatest circumspection, and
answered his in the most obliging manner.
As soon as dinner was over, Cacambo believed as
well as Candide that they might well pay their reckoning
by laying down two of those large gold pieces which
they had picked up. The landlord and landlady
shouted with laughter and held their sides. When the
lit was over :
"Gentlemen," said the landlord, "it is plain you are
strangers, and such guests we are not accustomed to
see ; pardon us therefore for laughing when you offered
us the pebbles from our highroads in payment of your
reckoning. You doubtless have not the money of the
country ; but it is not necessary to have any money at
all to dine in this house. All hostelries established for
the convenience of commerce are paid by the govern
ment. You have fared but very indifferently because
this is a poor village ; but everywhere else, you will be
received as you deserve."
Cacambo explained this whole discourse with great
astonishment to Candide, who was as greatly astonished
to hear it.
" What sort of a country then is this," said they to
one another; "a country unknown to all the rest of
the world. and where nature is of a kind so different from
8 4
CANDIDE
ours ? It is probably the country where all is well ;
for there absolutely must be one such place. And,
whatever Master Pangloss might say, I often found that
things went very ill in Westphalia."
XVIII
What they saw in the Country of El Dorado
CACAMBO expressed his curiosity to the landlord who
made answer :
" I am very ignorant, but not the worse on that
account. However, we have in this neighbourhood an
old man retired from Court who is the most learned
and most communicative person in the kingdom."
At once he took Cacambo to the old man. Candide
acted now only a second character, and accompanied his
^ valet. They entered a very plain house, for the door
was only of silver, and the ceilings were only of gold,
86 CANDIDE
but wrought in so elegant ;i taste as to vie with the
richest. The antechamber, indeed, was only encrusted
with rubies and emeralds, but the order in which
everything was arranged made amends for this great
simplicity.
The old man received the strangers on his sofa,
which was stuffed with humming-birds feathers, and
ordered his servants to present them with liqueurs in
diamond goblets ; after which he satisfied their curiosity
in the following terms :
" I am now one hundred and seventy-two years old,
and I learnt of my late father, Master of the Horse to
the King, the amazing revolutions of Peru, of which he
had been an eye-witness. The kingdom we now
inhabit is the ancient country of the Incas, who quitted
it very imprudently to conquer another part of the
world, and were at length destroyed by the Spaniards.
" More wise by far were the princes of their family,
who remained in their native country ; and they
ordained, with the consent of the whole nation, that
none of the inhabitants should ever be permitted to
quit this little kingdom ; and this has preserved our
innocence and happiness. The Spaniards have had a
confused notion of this country, and have called it
El Dorado ; and an Englishman, whose name was
Sir Walter Raleigh, came very near it about a hundred
years ago ; but being surrounded by inaccessible rocks
and precipices, we have hitherto been sheltered from
the rapaciousness of European nations, who have an
inconceivable passion for the pebbles and dirt of our
land, for the sake of which they would murder us to
the last man,"
CAXDIDK
The conversation was long : it turned chiefly on
their form of government, their manners, their women,
their public entertainments, and the arts. At length
Candide, having always had a taste for metaphysics,
made Cacamho ask whether there was any religion in
that country.
The old man reddened a little.
"How then," said he, "can you doubt it ? Do you
take us for ungrateful wretches ? "
Cacambo humbly asked, "What was the religion in
El Dorado ? "
The old man reddened again.
" Can there be two religions ? " said he. " We have
I believe, the religion of all the world : we worship
God night and morning."
" Do you worship but one God ? " said Cacambo, who
still acted as interpreter in representing Candide s
doubts.
"Surely," said the old man, "there are not two, nor
three nor four. 1 must confess the people from your
side of the world ask very extraordinary questions."
Candide was not yet tired of interrogating the good
old man ; he wanted to know in what manner they
prayed to God in El Dorado.
"We do not pray to Him," said the worthy sage;
"we have nothing to ask of Him; He has given us
all we need, and we return Him thanks without
ceasing."
Candide having a curiosity to see the priests asked
where they were. The good old man smiled.
" My friend," said he, " we are all priests. The King
and all the heads of families sing solemn canticles of
88
CANDIDE
thanksgiving every morning, accompanied by five or
six thousand musicians."
" What ! have you no monks who teach, who
dispute, who govern, who cabal, and who burn people
that are not of their opinion ? "
"We must be mad, indeed, if that were the case,"
said the old man ; " here we are all of one opinion,
and we know not what you mean by monks."
During this whole discourse Candide was in raptures,
and he said to himself :
"This is vastly different from Westphalia and the
Baron s castle. Had our friend Pangloss seen El Dorado
he would no longer have said that the castle of
Thunder-ten-Tronckh was the finest upon earth. It is
evident that one must travel."
After this long conversation the old man ordered a
coach and six sheep to be got ready, and twelve of his
domestics to conduct the travellers to court.
" Excuse me," said he, " if my age deprives me of the
honour of accompanying you. The King will receive
you in a manner that cannot displease you ; and no
doubt you will make an allowance for the customs of the
country, if some things should not be to your liking."
Candide and Cacambo got into the coach, the six
sheep flew, and in less than four hours they reached
the King s palace situated at the extremity of the
capital. The portal was two hundred and twenty feet
high, and one hundred wide ; but words are wanting
to express the materials of which it was built. It is
plain such materials must have prodigious superiority
over those pebbles and sand which we call gold and
precious stones.
CANDIDK 89
Twenty beautiful damsels of the King s guard received
Candide and Cacamho as they alighted from the coach,
conducted them to the hath, and dressed them in robes
woven of the down of humming-birds ; after which the
great crown officers, of both sexes, led them to the
King s apartment, between two files of musicians, a
thousand on each side. When they drew near to the
audience chamber Cacambo asked one of the great
officers in what way he- should pay his obeisance to
his Majesty ; whether they should ~thro"w themselves
upon their knees or on their stomachs ; whether they
should put their hands upon their heads or behind
their backs ; whether they should lick the dust off the
floor ; in a word, what was the ceremony ?
"The custom," said the great officer, " is to embrace
the King, and to kiss him on each cheek."
Candide and Cacambo threw themselves round his
Majesty s neck. He received them with all the good
ness imaginable, and politely invited them to supper.
While waiting they were shown the city, and saw
the public edifices raised as high as the , clouds, the
market places ornamented with a thousand columns,
the fountains of spring water, those of rose water,
those of liqueurs drawn from sugar-cane, incessantly
flowing into the great squares, which were paved with
a kind of precious stone, which gave off a delicious
fragrancy like that of cloves and cinnamon. Candide
asked to see the court of justice, the parliament. They
told him they had none, and that they were strangers
to lawsuits. He asked if they had any prisons, and
they answered no. But what surprised him most and
gave him the greatest pleasure was the palace of sciences,
M
90 CANDIDE
where he saw a gallery two thousand feet long, and
filled with instruments employed in mathematics and
physics.
After rambling about the city the whole afternoon,
and seeing but a thousandth part of it, they were re-
conducted to the royal palace, where Candide sat down
to table with his Majesty, his valet Cacambo, and
several ladies. Never was there a better entertainment,
and never was more wit shown at table than that which
fell from his Majesty. Cacambo explained the king s
bon-mots to Candide, and notwithstanding they were
translated they still appeared to be bon-mots. Of all the
things that surprised Candide this was not the least.
They spent a month in this hospitable place. Candide
frequently said to Cacambo :
" I own, my friend, once more that the castle where
1 was born is nothing in comparison with this ; but,
after all, Miss Cunegonde is not here, and you have,
without doubt, some mistress in Europe. If we abide
here we shall only be upon a footing with the rest,
whereas, if we return to our old world, only with
twelve sheep laden with the pebbles of El Dorado, we
shall be richer than all the kings in Europe. We shall
have no more Inquisitors to fear, and we may easily
recover Miss Cunegonde."
This speech was agreeable to Cacambo ; mankind
are so fond of roving, of making a figure in their own
country, and of boasting of what they have seen in
their travels, that the two happy ones resolved to be
no longer so, but to ask his Majesty s leave to quit the
country.
" You are foolish," said the King. " I am sensible
CAXDIDE 91
that my kingdom is but a small place, hut when a
person is comfortably settled in any part he should
abide there. I have not the right to detain strangers.
It is a tyranny which neither our manners nor our laws
permit. All men are free. Go when you wish, but
the going will be very difficult. It is impossible to
ascend that rapid river on which you came as by a
miracle, and which runs under vaulted rocks. The
mountains which surround my kingdom are ten thou
sand feet high, and as steep as walls ; they are each
over ten leagues in breadth, and there is no other way
to descend them than by precipices. However, since
you absolutely wish to depart, I shall give orders to my
engineers to construct a machine that will convey you
very safely. When we have conducted you over the
mountains no one can accompany you further, for my
subjects have made a vow never to quit the kingdom,
and they are too wise to break it. Ask me besides
anything that you please."
" We desire nothing of your Majesty," says Candide,
" but a few sheep laden with provisions, pebbles, and
the earth of this country."
The king laughed.
"I cannot conceive," said he, "what pleasure you
Europeans find in our yellow clay, but take as much as
f you like, and great good may it do you."
At once he gave directions that his engineers should
construct a machine to hoist up these two extraordinary
men out of the kingdom. Three thousand good
mathematicians went to work ; it was ready in fifteen
days, and did not cost more than twenty million
sterling in the specie of that country. They placed
9 2
CANDIDE
Candide and Cacambo on the machine. There were
two threat red sheep saddled and bridled to ride upon
as soon as they were beyond the mountains, twenty
pack-sheep laden with provisions, thirty with presents
of the curiosities of the country, and fifty with j^old,
diamonds, and precious stones. The Kin^ embraced
the two wanderers very tenderly.
Their departure, with the ingenious manner in which
they and their sheep were hoisted over the mountains,
was a splendid spectacle. The mathematicians took
their leave after conveying them to a place of safety,
and Candide had no other desire, no other aim, than
to present his sheep to Miss Cunegonde.
" Now," said he, " we are able to pay the Governor
of Buenos Ayres if Miss Cune^onde can be ransomed.
Let us journey towards Cayenne. Let us embark, and
we will afterwards see what kingdom we shall be able
to purchase."
XIX
What happened to them at Surinam and how Candide got
Acquainted with Martin
Oi K travellers spent the first day very agreeably.
They were delighted with possessing more treasure
than all Asia, Europe, and Africa could scrape
together. Candide, in his raptures, cut Cunegonde s
name on the trees. The second day two of their
sheep plunged into a morass, where they and their
burdens were lost ; two more died of fatigue a few
days after ; seven or eight perished with hunger
in a desert ; and others subsequently fell down
precipices. At length, after travelling a hundred
94 CAXDIDE
clays, only two sheep remained. Said Candide to
Cacambo :
V " My friend, you see how perishable are the riches
of this world ; there is nothing solid but virtue, and
the happiness of seeing Cunegonde once more."
" I grant all you say," said Cacambo, " but we have
still two sheep remaining, with more treasure than the
King of Spain will ever have ; and I see a town which
I take to be Surinam, belonging to the Dutch. We
t- are at the end of all our troubles, and at the beginning
of happiness."
As they drew near the town, they saw a negro
stretched upon the ground, with only one moiety
of his clothes, that is, of his blue linen drawers ; the
poor man had lost his left leg and his right hand.
"Good God!" said Candide in Dutch, "what art
thou doing there, friend, in that shocking condition ? "
" I am waiting for my master, Mynheer Vander-
dendur, the famous merchant," answered the negro.
" Was it Mynheer Vanderdendur," said Candide,
" that treated thee thus ? "
"Yes, sir," said the negro, "it is the custom. They
give us a pair of linen drawers for our whole garment
hvkx a ye^tr^ When we work at the sugar canes, and
the mill snatches hold of a ringer, they cut off our
hand ; and when we attempt to run away, they cut
off our leg ; both cases have happened to me. ^This
is the price at which you eat sugar in Europe.
Yet when my mother sold me for ten patagons * on
the coast of Guinea, she said to me : My dear child,
bless our fetiches, adore them for ever ; they will
* Spanish half-crowns.
C AND IDE 05
make tliec live happily ; thoti hast the honour of beinj
tin- ^l.uv of our lords, the whites, which is making
the fortune of thy father and mother. Alas ! I know
not whether I have made their fortunes ; this I know,
that they have not made mine. Dogs, monkeys, and
parrots are a thousand times less wretched than I.
The Dutch fetiches, who have converted me, declare
every Sunday that we are all of us children of Adam
blacks as well as whites. I am not a genealogist,
but if these preachers tell truth, we are all second
cousins. Now, you must agree, that it is impossible
to treat one s relations in a more barbarous inapner^
"Oh, PanglossJJ cried Candide, " thoti hadst not
guessed at thjs^ abomination_L-il-ijxlhe end. 1 musTaT
last renounce thy optimism."
"What is this optimism ?" said Cacambo.
" Alas ! " said Candide, ^jt_js_the madness of main
taining that everythjngjsjjght-when it is wron<O >
Looking at the negro, he shed tears, and weeping,
he entered Surinam.
The first thing they inquired after was whether
there was a vessel in the harbour which could be
sent to Buenos Ayres. The person to whom thev
applied was a Spanish sea-captain, who offered to
agree with them upon reasonable terms. He ap
pointed to meet them at a public-house, whither
Candide and the faithful Cacambo went with their
two sheep, and awaited his coming.
Candide, who had his heart upon his lips, told the
Spaniard all his adventures, and avowed that he
intended to elope with Miss Cunegonde.
" Then I will take good care not to carry you to
96 CANDIDE
Buenos Ayrcs," s;iicl the seaman. " I should be
handed, and so would you. The fair Cunegonde is
my lord s favourite mistress."
This was a thunderclap for Candide ; he wept for a
long while. At last he drew Cacambo aside.
"Here, my dear friend," said lie to him, "this them
must do. \Ye have, each of us in his pocket, live or
six millions in diamonds ; you are more clever than
1 ; you must go and bring Miss Cunegonde from
Buenos Ayres. If the Governor makes any difficulty,
give him a million ; if he will not relinquish her, give
him two ; as you have not killed an Inquisitor, they
will have no suspicion of you ; I ll get another ship,
and go and wait for you at Venice ; that s a freiL
country, where there is _no_jhiiufer ehher__fmiiL Bul-
garians, Abares, Jews, or Inquisitors."
Cacambo applauded this wise resolution. He de
spaired at parting from so good a master, who had
become his intimate friend ; but the pleasure of
serving him prevailed over the pain of leaving him.
They embraced with tears ; Candide charged him not to
forget the good old woman. Cacambo set out that very
same clay. This Cacambo was a very honest fellow.
Candide stayed some time longer in Surinam, wait
ing for another captain to carry him and the two
remaining sheep to Italy. After lie had hired
domestics, and purchased everything necessary for a
long voyage, Mynheer Vanderdendur, captain of a
large vessel, came and offered his services.
" How much will you charge," said he to this man,
" to carry me straight to Venice me, my servants, my
baggage, and these two sheep ? "
CANDIDE 97
The skipper asked ten thousand piastres. Candicle
did not liesitate.
" Oil ! oh ! " said the prudent Vanderdendur to him
self, "this stranger gives ten thousand piastres un
hesitatingly ! He must be very rich."
Returning a little while after, he let him know
that upon second consideration, he could not un
dertake the voyage for less than twenty thousand
piastres.
"Well, you shall have them," said Candide.
"Ay !" said the skipper to himself, "this man agrees
to pay twenty thousand piastres with as much ease
as ten."
He went hack to him again, and declared that he
could not carry him to Venice for less than thirty
thousand piastres.
"Then you shall have thirty thousand," replied
Candide.
" Oh ! oh ! " said the Dutch skipper once more to
himself, " thirty thousand piastres are a trifle to this
man ; surely these sheep must be laden with an im
mense treasure ; let us say no more about it. First
of all, let him pay down the thirty thousand piastres ;
then we shall see."
Candide sold two small diamonds, the least of which
was worth more than what the skipper asked for his
freight. He paid him in advance. The two sheep
were put on board. Candide followed in a little boat
to join the vessel in the roads. The skipper seized
his opportunity, set sail, and put out to sea, the wind
favouring him. Candide, dismayed and stupefied, soon
lost sight of the vessel.
98 CAN D IDE
"Alas !" said he, "this is a trick worthy of the old
world ! "
He put back, overwhelmed with sorrow, for indeed
he had lost sufficient to make the fortune of twenty
monarchs. He waited upon the Dutch magistrate,
and in his distress he knocked over loudly at the
door. He entered and told his adventure, raising his
voice with unnecessary vehemence. The magistrate
began by lining him ten thousand piastres for making
a noise ; then he listened patiently, promised to
examine into his affair at the skipper s return, and
ordered him to pay ten thousand piastres for the
expense of the hearing.
This drove Candide to despair ; he had, indeed,
endured misfortunes a thousand times worse ; the
coolness of the magistrate and of the skipper who had
robbed him, roused his choler and flung him into a\
deep melancholy. The villainy of mankind presented N
itself before his imagination in all its deformity, and his /
mind was filled with gloomy ideas. At length hearing
that a French vessel was ready to set sail for Bordeaux,
as he had no sheep laden with diamonds to take along
with him he hired a cabin at the usual price. He
made it known in the town that he would pay the
passage and board and give two thousand piastres to
any honest man who would make the voyage with him,
upon condition that this man was the most dissatisfied
with his state, and the most unfortunate in the whole
province.
Such a crowd of candidates presented themselves
that a fleet of ships could hardly have held them.
Candide being desirous of selecting from among the
C AND IDE 99
best, marked out about one-twentieth of them who
seemed to be sociable men, and who all pretended to
merit his preference. He assembled them at his inn,
and gave them a supper on condition that each took
an oath to relate his history faithfully, promising to
choose him who appeared to be most justly discontented
with his state, and to bestow some presents upon the
rest.
They sat until four o clock in the morning. Candide,
in listening to all their adventures, was reminded of
what the old woman had said to him in their voyage to
Buenos Ayres, and of her wager that there was not
a person on board the ship but had met with very
great misfortunes. He dreamed of Pangloss at every
adventure told to him.
"This Pangloss," said he, "would be pu/./Jed to
demonstrate his system. 1 wish that he were here.
Certainly, if all things are good, it is in El Dorado and
not in the rest of the world."
At length he made choice of a poor man of letters,
who had worked ten years for the booksellers of
Amsterdam. He judged that there was not in the
whole world a trade which could disgust one more.
This philosopher was an honest man ; but he had
been robbed by his wife, beaten by his son, and
abandoned by his daughter who got a Portuguese to
run away with her. He had just been deprived of a
small employment, on which he subsisted ; and he was
persecuted by the preachers of Surinam, who took him
for a Socinian. We must allow that the others were at
least as wretched as he ; but Candide hoped that the
philosopher would entertain him during the voyage.
100
CANDIDE
All the other candidates complained that Candide had
done them great injustice ; but he appeased them by
giving one hundred piastres to each.
What happened at Sea to Candicle and Marti
THE old philosopher, whose name was Martin,
embarked then with Candide for Bordeaux. They had
both seen and suffered a great deal ; and if the vessel
had sailed from Surinam to Japan, by the Cape of Good
Hope, the subject of moral and natural evil would have
enabled them to entertain one another during the whole
voyage.
Candide, however, had one great advantage over
Martin, in that he always hoped to see Miss Cune-
gonde ; whereas Martin had nothing at all to hope.
102 CAXDIDE
Besides, Candide was possessed of money and jewels,
and though he had lost one hundred large red sheep,
laden with the greatest treasure upon earth ; though
the knavery of the Dutch skipper still sat heavy upon
his mind ; yet when he reflected upon what he had
4 still left, and when he mentioned the name of Cune-
gonde, especially towards the latter end of a repast, he
inclined to Pangloss s doctrine.
" Hut you, Mr. Martin," said he to the philosopher,
" what do you think of all this ? what are your ideas on
moral and natural evil ?"
" Sir," answered Martin, " our priests accused me of
being a Socinian, but the real fact is I am a Manichean."- 1
" You jest," said Candide ; " there are no longer
Manicheans in the world."
" 1 am one," said Martin. " I cannot help it ; I
know not how to think otherwise."
" Surely you must be possessed by the devil," said
Candide.
" He is so deeply concerned in the affairs of this
world," answered Martin, "that he may very well be in
me, as well as in everybody else ; but I own to you
that when I cast an eye on this globe, or rather on this
little ball, I cannot help thinking that God has aban
doned it to some malignant being. I except, always,
El Dorado. I scarcely ever knew a city that did not
desire the destruction of a neighbouring city, nor a
family that did not wish to exterminate some other
family. Everywhere the weak execrate the powerfuL
before whom they cringe ; and the powerful beat themV
like sheep whose wool and flesh they sell. A million
regimented assassins, from one extremity of Europe to
CAN HIDE 103
the other, get their bread by disciplined depredation
and murder, for want of more honest employment.
Even in those cities which seem to enjoy peace, and
where the arts flourish, the inhabitants are devoured by
more envy, care and uneasiness than are experienced
by a besieged town. Secret griefs are more cruel than
public calamities. In a word I have seen so much, and
experienced so much that 1 am a Manichean."
" There are, however, some things good," said
Candide.
"That may be," said Martin; "but I know them
not."
In the middle of this dispute they heard the report
of cannon ; it redoubled every instant. Each took out
his glass. They saw two ships in close tight about
three miles off. The wind brought both so near to the
French vessel that our travellers had the pleasure of
seeing the light at their ease. At length one let off a
broadside, so low and so truly aimed, that the other
sank to the bottom. Candide and Martin could plainly
perceive a hundred men on the deck of the sinking
vessel ; they raised their hands to heaven and uttered
terrible outcries, and the next moment were swallowed
up by the sea.
"Well," said Martin, "this is how men treat one
another."
" It is true," said Candide ; " there is something
diabolical in this affair."
While speaking, he saw he knew not what, of a shining
red, swimming close to the vessel. They put out the
long-boat to see what it could be : it was one of his
sheep ! Candide was more rejoiced at the recovery of
104 CANDIDE
this one sheep than he had been grieved at the loss
of the hundred laden with the large diamonds of
El Dorado.
The French captain soon saw that the captain of the
victorious vessel was a Spaniard, and that the other
was a Dutch pirate, and the very same one who had
robbed Candide. The immense plunder which this
villain had amassed, was buried with him in the sea,
and out of the whole only one sheep was saved.
" You see," said Candide to MarHji^_llJliat_t:rime is
sometimes punished. Tins n)giie ()fa_J2ulidi__skipper
has metwith the fate he deserved.
" Yes," siu-l^vijxt n ; " b"t why^shnnld the passengers
be doomed also to_^lttsliiction ? Go7r~fias~~~pumshed~
the knave, and the devil has drowned the rest."
TKe FrcFnch and Spanish slTfpS luiilhTued their
course, and Candide continued his conversation with
Martin. They disputed fifteen successive days, and on
the last of those fifteen days, they were as far advanced
as on the first. Hut, however, they chatted, they
communicated ideas, they consoled each other.
Candide caressed his sheep.
" Since I have found thee again," said he, " I may
likewise chance to find my Cunegonde."
XXI
Candide and Martin, reasoning, draw near the Coast of France
AT length they descried the coast of France.
" Were you ever in France, Mr. Martin ? " said
Candide.
" Yes," said Martin, "I have been in several provinces.
In some one-half of the people are fools, in others they
are too cunning ; in some they are weak and simple, in
others they affect to be witty ; in all, the principal
occupation is love, the next is slander, and the third is
talking nonsense."
" But, Mr. Martin, have you seen Paris ? "
o
io6 CANDIDE
"Yes, I have. All these kinds are found there. 11
is a chaos a confused multitude, where everybody
eeks pleasure and scarcely any one finds it, at least as
^ A. it appeared to me. 1 made a short stay there. On my
arrival I was robbed of all I had by pickpockets at the
fair of St. Germain. I myself was taken for a robber
and was imprisoned for eight days, after which I served
as corrector of the press to gain the money necessary
for my return to Holland on foot. I knew the whole
scribbling rabble, the party rabble, the fanatic rabble.
It is said that there are very polite people in that city,
and I wish to believe it."
" For my part, I have no curiosity to see France,"
said Candide. "You may easily imagine that after
spending a month at El Dorado I can desire to behold
nothing upon earth but Miss Cunegonde. I go to
await her at Venice. We shall pass through France
on our way to Italy. Will you bear me company ?"
"With all my heart," said Martin. "It is said that
Venice is lit only for its own nobility, but that strangers^
meet with a very good reception if they^have agood
deal of money. 1 have none of it ; you have, therefore
I will follow you all over the world."
" But do you believe," said Candide, " that the earth
was originally a sea, as we find it asserted in that large
book belonging to the captain ? "
" 1 do not believe a word of it," said Martin, " any
more than I do of the many ravings which have been
published lately."
"But for what end, then, has this world been
formed ? " said Candide.
" To plague us to death," answered Martin.
CANDIDE 107
" Are you not greatly surprised ? " continued Candide,
"at the love which these two girls of the Orcillons
had for those monkeys, of which I have already told
you ? "
"Not at all," said Martin. "1 do not see that that
passion was strange. I have seen so maivyextraorclinaryf
things that 1 have ceased to be surprised." ^J
"Do you Ix-ITJve/ s;uc l Candide, "that men have
always massacred each other as they do to-day, that \f/
they have always been liars, cheats, traitors, ingrates^f^
brigands, idiots, thieves, scoundrels, gluttons, drunkards, .
misers, envious, ambitious, bloody-minded, calum
niators, debauchees, fanatics, hypocrites, and fools ? "
"Do you believe," said Martin, "that hawks have
always eaten pigeons when they have found them ? "
" Yes, without doubt," said Candide.
" Well, then," said Martin, " if hawks have always
had the same character why should you imagine that
_jnen may have changed theirs ? "
" Oh ! " said Candide, " there is a vast deal of differ
ence, for free will
And reasoning thus they arrived at Bordeaux.
XXII
What happened in France to Canclide and Martin
CAXDIDE stayed in Bordeaux no longer than was
necessary for the selling of a few of the pebbles of
El Dorado, and for hiring a ^ood chaise to hold two
passengers ; for he could not travel without his
Philosopher Martin. He was only vexed at parting
with his sheep, which he left to the Bordeaux
Academy of Sciences, who set as a subject for that
year s prize, "to find why this sheep s wool was red" ;
and the prize was awarded to a learned man of the
North, who demonstrated by A plus B minus C
no CANDIDE
divided by Z, that the sheep must he red, and die
of the rot.
Meanwhile, all the travellers whom Candide met in
the inns along his route, said to him, "We go to
Paris." This general eagerness at length gave him,
too, a desire to see this capital ; and it was not so very
great a detour from the road to Venice.
He entered Pans by the suburb of St. Marceau,
and fancied that he was in the dirtiest village of West-
Scarcely was Candide arrived at his inn, than he
found himself attacked by a slight illness, caused by
fatigue. As he had a very large diamond on his
linger, and the people of the inn had taken notice
of a prodigiously heavy box among his baggage,
there were two physicians to attend him, though he
had never sent for them, and two devotees who
warmed his broths.
" I remember," Martin said, " also to have been sick
at Paris in my first voyage ; I was very poor, thus I
had neither friends, devotees, nor doctors, and I
recovered."
However, what with physic and bleeding, Candida s
illness became serious.j^A parson of the neighbourhood
came with great meekness to ask for a bill for the
other world payable to the bearer. Candide would do
nothing for him ; but the devotees assured him it was
the new fashion. He answered that he was not a man of
fashion. Martin wished to throw the priest out of the
window. The priest swore that they would not bury
Candide. Martin swore that he would bury the priest
if he continued to be troublesome.""] The quarrel grew
CANDIDE in
heated. Martin took him by the shoulders and
roughly turned him out of doors ; which occasioned
great scandal and a law-suit.
Candidc got well again, and during his con
valescence he had very good company to sup with
him. They played high. Candide wondered why
it was that the ace never came to him ; but Martin was
not at all astonished.
Among those who did him the honours of the town
was a little Abbe of Perigord, one of those busybodies
who are ever alert, officious, forward, fawning, and
complaisant ; who watch for strangers in their passage
through the capital, tell them the scandalous history
of the town, and offer them pleasure at all prices.
He first took Candide and Martin to La Coinedie,
where they played a new tragedy. Candide happened
to be seated near some of the fashionable wits. This
did not prevent his shedding tears at the well-acted
scenes. One of these critics at his side said to him
between the acts :
" Your tears are misplaced ; that is a shocking
actress ; the actor who plays with her is yet worse ;
and the play is still worse than the actors. The author
does not know a word of Arabic, yet the scene is in
Arabia ; moreover he is a man that does not believe
in innate ideas ; and I will bring you, to-morrow,
twenty pamphlets written against him." -
[" How many dramas have you in France, sir ? " said
Candide to the Abbe.
" Five or six thousand."
"What a number!" said Candide. "How many
good ? "
ii2 CANDIDE
" Fifteen or sixteen," replied the other.
" \Vh;it a number ! " said Martin.
Candide was very pleased with an actress who
played Queen Elizabeth in a somewhat insipid tragedy-
sometimes acted.
"That actress," said he to Martin, "pleases me
much ; she has a likeness to Miss Cunegonde ; I
should be very glad to wait upon her."
The Perigordian Abbe offered to introduce him.
Candide, brought up in Germany, asked what was the
etiquette, and how they treated queens of England in
France.
"It is necessary to make distinctions," said the
Abbe. " In the provinces one takes them to the inn ;
in Paris, one respects them when they are beautiful, and
throws them on the highway when they are dead." - ;{
"Queens on the highway ! " said Candide.
"Yes, truly," said Martin, "the Abbe is right. I was
in Paris when Miss Moninie passed, as the saying is,
from this life to the other. She was refused what
people call the honours of sepulture that is to say, of
rotting with all the beggars of the neighbourhood in
an ugly cemetery ; she was interred all alone by her
company at the corner of the Rue de Bourgogne,
which ought to trouble her much, for she thought
nobly."
"That was very uncivil," said Candide.
" What would you Irive ? " said Martin ; " these
) people are made thus. Imagine all contradictions, all
j possible incompatibilities you will iincl them in the
government, in the law-courts, in the churches, in the
public shows of this droll nation."
CANDIDE 113
"Is it true that they always laugh in Paris?" said
Candide.
"Yes," said the Abbe, "but it means nothing, forv
they complain of everything with great fits of laugh
ter ; they even do the most detestable things while
laughing."
" Who," said Candide, " is that great pig who spoke
so ill of the piece at which I wept, and of the actors
who gave me so much pleasure ? "
"He is a bad character," answered the Abbe, "who
gains his livelihood by saying evil of all plays and of
all books. He hates whatever succeeds, as the eunuchs
hate those who enjoy ; he is one of the serpents of
literature who nourish themselves on dirt and spite ;
he is a folliculaire."
" What is -A. follicuhiire ." " said Candide.
" It is," said the Abbe, "a pamphleteer a Freron."- 4
Thus Candide, Martin, and the Perigordian conversed
on the staircase, while watching every one go out after
the performance.
"Although I am very eager to see Cunegonde
again," said Candide, " 1 should like to sup with Miss
Clairon, for she appears to me admirable."
The Abbe was not the man to approach Miss
Clairon, who only saw good company.
" She is engaged for this evening," he said, " but I
shall have the honour to take you to the house of a
lady of quality, and there you will know Paris as if you
had lived in it four years."
Candide, who was naturally curious, let himself be
taken to this lady s house, at the end of the Faubourg
St. Honore. The company was occupied in playing
p
ii4 CAXDIDE
faro ; a dozen melancholy punters held each in his
hand a little pack of cards ; a bad record of his mis
fortunes. Profound silence reigned ; pallor was on the
faces of the punters, anxiety on that of the banker, and
the hostess, sitting near the unpitying banker, noticed
with lynx-eyes all the doubled and other increased
stakes, as each player dogs-eared his cards ; she made
them turn down the edges again with severe, but polite
attention ; she showed no vexation for fear of losing
her customers. The lady insisted upon being called
the Marchioness of Parolignac. Her daughter, aged
fifteen, was among the punters, and notified with a
covert glance the cheatings of the poor people who
tried to repair the cruelties of fate. The Perigordian
Abbe, Candide and Martin entered ; no one rose, no
one saluted them, no one looked at them ; all were
profoundly occupied with their cards.
" The Baroness of Thunder-ten-Tronckh was more
polite," said Candide.
However, the Abbe whispered to the Marchioness,
who half rose, honoured Candide with a gracious
smile, and Martin with a condescending nod ; she gave
a seat and a pack of cards to Candide, who lost fifty
thousand francs in two deals, after which they supped
very gaily, and every one was astonished that Candide
was not moved by his loss ; the servants said among
themselves, in the language of servants :
" Some English lord is here this evening."
/" The supper passed at first like most Parisian suppers,
I in silence, followed by a noise of words which could
( not be distinguished, then with pleasantries of which
I most were insipid, with false news, with bad reasoning,
CANDIDE 115
\ a little politics and much evil speaking ; they also clis-
\cussed new books.
" Have you seen," said the Perigordian Ahhc, " the
romance of Sietir Gauehat, doctor of divinity ?"- :>
" Yes," answered one of the guests, " but I have not
been able to finish it. \Yc have a crowd of silly
writings, but all together do not approach the imperti
nence of (iauchat, Doctor of Divinity. I am so
satiated with the great number of detestable books with
which we are inundated that I am reduced to punting
at faro."
"And the Melanges of Archdeacon Trublet,-" what
do you say of that ? " said the Abbe.
"Ah!" said the Marchioness of Parolignac, "the
wearisome mortal ! How curiously he repeats to you
all that the world knows ! How heavily he discusses
that which is not worth the trouble of lightly remarking
upon ! How, without wit, he appropriates the wit
of others ! How he spoils what he steals ! How
he disgusts me ! But he will disgust me no longer
it is enough to have read a few of the Archdeacon s
pages."
There was at table a wise man of taste, who sup
ported the Marchioness. They spoke afterwards of
tragedies ; the lady asked why there were tragedies
which were sometimes played and which could not be
read. The man of taste explained very well how a
piece could have some interest, and have almost no
merit ; he proved in few words that it was not enough
to introduce one or two of those situations which one
finds in all romances, and which always seduce the
spectator, but that it was necessary to be new without
n6 CANDIDE
being odd, often sublime and always natural, to know
the human heart and to make it speak ; to be a great
poet without allowing any person in the piece to appear
to be a poet ; to know language perfectly to speak
it with purity, with continuous harmony and without
rhythm ever taking anything from sense."
"Whoever," added he, "does not observe all these
rules can produce one or two tragedies, applauded at a
theatre, but he will never be counted in the ranks of
good writers. There are very few good tragedies ;
some are idylls in dialogue, well written and well
rhymed, others political reasonings which lull to
sleep, or amplifications which repel ; others demoniac
dreams in barbarous style, interrupted in sequence,
with long apostrophes to the gods, because they do
not know how to speak to men, with false maxims,
with bombastic commonplaces ! "
Candide listened with attention to this discourse, and
conceived a great idea of the speaker, and as the
Marchioness had taken care to place him beside her,
he leaned towards her and took the liberty of asking
who was the man who had spoken so well.
"He is a scholar," said the lady, "who does not
play, whom the Abbe sometimes brings to supper ; he
is perfectly at home among tragedies and books, and
he has written a tragedy which was hissed, and a
book of which nothing has ever been seen outside
his bookseller s shop excepting the copy which he
dedicated to me."
"The great man!" said Candide. "He is another
Pangloss ! "
CANDIDE 117
Then, turning towards him, he said :
" Sir, you think doubtless that all is for the best in
the moral and physical world, and that nothing could
be otherwise than it is ? "
" I, sir ! " answered the scholar, " I know nothing of
all that ; I find that all goes awry with me ; that no
one knows either what is his rank, nor what is his
condition, what he does nor what he ought to do ; and
that except supper, which is always gay, and where
there appears to be enough concord, all the rest of the
time is passed in impertinent quarrels ; Jansenist
against Molinist, Parliament against the Church, men
of letters against men of letters, courtesans against (
courtesans, financiers against the people, wives against
husbands, relatives against relatives it is eternal
war."
" I have seen the worst," Candide replied. " But a
wise man, who since has had the misfortune to be
hanged, taught me that all is marvellously well ; tlu^se
are but the shadows on a beautiful picture."
"Your hanged man mocked the world," said Martin.
" The shadows are horrible blots."
"They are men who make the blots," said Candide,
"and they cannot be dispensed with."
" It is not their fault then," said Martin.
Most of the punters, who understood nothing of this
language, drank, and Martin reasoned with the scholar,
and Candide related some of his adventures to his
hostess.
After supper the Marchioness took Candide into her
boudoir, and made him sit upon a sof^ f
n8 CANDIDE
"Ah, well !" said she to him, "you love desperately
Miss Cunegonde of Thunder-ten-Tronckh ?"
" Yes, madame," answered Candide.
The Marchioness replied to him with a tender smile :
"You answer me like a young man from Westphalia.
A Frenchman would have said, It is true that I have
loved Miss Cunegonde, hut seeing you, madame, I think
I no longer love her. "
" Alas ! madame," said Candide, " I will answer you
as you wish."
"Your passion for her," said the Marchioness, "com
menced by picking up her handkerchief. I wish that
you would pick up my garter."
"With all my heart," said Candide. And he picked
it up.
" But I wish that you would put it on," said the
lady.
And Candide put it on.
" You see," said she, " you are a foreigner. I some
times make my Parisian lovers languish for fifteen clays,
but I give myself to you the first night because one
must do the honours of one s country to a young man
from Westphalia."
The lady having perceived two enormous diamonds
upon the hands of the young foreigner praised them
with such good faith that from Candide s fingers they
passed to her own.
Candide, returning with the Perigordian Abbe, felt
some remorse in having been unfaithful to Miss Cune
gonde. The Abbe sympathised in his trouble ; he had
had but a light part of the fifty thousand francs lost at
CAXDIDE 119
play and of the value of the two brilliants, half given,
half extorted. His design was to profit as much as lie
could by the advantages which the acquaintance of
Candide could procure for him. He spoke much of
Cunegonde, and Candide told him that he should ask
forgiveness of that beautiful one for his infidelity when
he should see her in Venice.
The Abbe redoubled his politeness and attentions,
and took a tender interest in all that Candide said, in all
that he did, in all that he wished to do.]
" And so, sir, you have a rendezvous at Venice ? "
"Yes, monsieur Abbe," answered Candide. "It is
absolutely necessary that L go to meet Miss Cune-
gonde."
And then the pleasure of talking of that which
he loved induced him to relate, according to his
custom, part of his adventures with the fair West-
phalian.
"1 believe," said the Abbe, "that Miss Cunegonde
has a great deal of wit, and that she writes charming
letters ? "
" 1 have never received any from her," said Candide,
" for being expelled from the castle on her account I
had not an opportunity for writing to her. Soon after
that I heard she was dead ; then 1 found her alive ;
then 1 lost her again ; and last of all, 1 sent an express
to her two thousand live hundred leagues from here,
and I wait for an answer."
The Abbe listened attentively, and seemed to be in
a brown study. He soon took his leave of the two
foreigners after a most tender embrace. The following
120 CANDIDE
clay Candida received, on awaking, a letter couched in
these terms :
" My very dear love, for eight days I have been ill in
this town. I learn that you are here. I would fly to
your arms if I could but move. I was informed of
your passage at Bordeaux, where I left faithful Cacambo
and the old woman, who are to follow me very soon.
The Governor of Buenos Ayres has taken all, but there
remains to me your heart. Come ! your presence will
either give me life or kill me with pleasure."
This charming, this unhoped-for letter transported
Candide with an inexpressible joy, and the illness of
his dear Cunegonde overwhelmed him with grief.
Divided between those two passions, he took his gold
and his diamonds and hurried away, with Martin, to
the hotel where Miss Cunegonde was lodged. He
entered her room trembling, his heart palpitating, his
voice sobbing ; he wished to open the curtains of the
bed, and asked for a light.
" Take care what you do," said the servant-maid ;
"the light hurts her," and immediately she drew the
curtain again.
" My dear Cunegonde," said Candide, weeping, "how
are you ? If you cannot see me, at least speak to
me."
" She cannot speak," said the maid.
The lady then put a plump hand out from the bed,
and Candide bathed it with his tears and afterwards
filled it with diamonds, leaving a bag of gold upon the
easy chair.
CANDIDE 121
In the midst of these transports in came an officer,
followed by the Abbe and a file of soldiers.
" There," said he, " are the two suspected foreigners,"
and at the same time he ordered them to be seized and
carried to prison.
"Travellers are not treated thus in El Dorado," said
Candide.
" I am more a Manichean now than ever," said
Martin.
" But pray, sir, where are you going to carry us ? "
said Candide.
"To a dungeon," answered the officer.
Martin, having recovered himself a little, judged that
the lady who acted the part of Cunegonde was a cheat,
that the Perigordian Abbe was a knave who had imposed
upon the honest simplicity of Candide, and that the
officer was another knave whom they might easily
silence.
Candide, advised by Martin and impatient to see the
real Cunegonde, rather than expose himself before a
court of justice, proposed to the officer to give him
three small diamonds, each worth about three thousand
pistoles.
" Ah, sir," said the man with the ivory baton, " had you
committed all the imaginable crimes you would be to me
the most honest man in the world. Three diamonds !
Each worth three thousand pistoles ! Sir, instead of
carrying you to jail I would lose my life to serve you.
There are orders for arresting all foreigners, but leave
it to me. I have a brother at Dieppe in Normandy ;
I ll conduct you thither, and if you have a diamond
Q
122 CAN D IDE
to give him he ll take as much care of you as I
would."
" And why," said Candide, " should all foreigners be
arrested ? "
" It is," the Perigordian Abbe then made answer,
"because a poor beggar of the country of Atrebatie 27
heard some foolish things said. This induced him to
commit a parricide, not such as that of 1610 in the month
of May,- 8 but such as that of 1594 in the month of
December,- 9 and such as others which have been com
mitted in other years and other months by other poor
devils who had heard nonsense spoken."
The officer then explained what the Abbe meant.
" Ah, the monsters ! " cried Candide. " What horrors
among a people who dance and sing ! Is there no way
of getting quickly out of this country where monkeys
provoke tigers ? I have seen bears in my country, but
men I have beheld nowhere except in El Dorado. In
the name of God, sir, conduct me to Venice, where I
am to await Miss Cunegonde."
" I can conduct you no further than lower Normandy,"
said the officer.
Immediately he ordered his irons to be struck off,
acknowledged himself mistaken, sent away his men, set
out with Candide and Martin for Dieppe, and left them
in the care of his brother.
There was then a small Dutch ship in the harbour.
The Norman, who by the virtue of three more diamonds
had become the most subservient of men, put Candide
and his attendants on board a vessel that was just ready
to set sail for Portsmouth in England.
CAN Dl DK
123
This was not the way to Venice, hut Candide thought
he had made his way out of hell, and reckoned that he
would soon have an opportunity of resuming his
journey.
XXIII
Candide and Martin touched upon the Coast of England,
and what they saw there
"AH, Pangloss ! Pangloss! Ah, Martin! Martin!
Ah, my dear Cunegonde, what sort of a world is this ? "
said Candide on board the Dutch ship.
" Something very foolish and abominable," said
Martin.
" You know England ? Are they as foolish there as
in France ? "
"It is another kind of folly," said Martin. "You
know that these two nations are at war for a few acres
of snow in Canada, 30 and that they spend over this
126 CAXDIDE
beautiful war much more than Canada is worth. To
tell you exactly, whether there are more people fit to
send to a madhouse in one country than the other, is
what my imperfect intelligence will not permit. I only
know in general that the people we are going to see are
very atrabilious."
Talking thus they arrived at Portsmouth. The
coast was lined with crowds of people, whose eyes
were fixed on a fine- man kneeling, with his eyes
bandaged, on board one of the men of war in the
harbour. Four soldiers stood opposite to this man ;
each of them fired three balls at his head, with all the
calmness in the world ; and the whole assembly went
away very well satisfied.
"What is all this?" said Candide ; "and what
demon is it that exercises his empire in this country ? "
He then asked who was that fine man who had been
killed with so much ceremony. They answered, he
was an Admiral. 31
" And why kill this Admiral ? "
"It is because he did not kill a sufficient number of
men himself. He gave battle to a French Admiral ;
and it has been proved that he was not near enough to
him."
"But," replied Candide, "the French Admiral was as
far from the English Admiral."
"There is no doubt of it; but in this country it is
found good, from time to time, to kill one Admiral to
encourage the others."
Candide was so shocked and bewildered by what he
saw and heard, that he would not set foot on shore,
and he made a bargain with the Dutch skipper (were
CANDIDE 127
IK- even to rob him like the Surinam captain) to con
duct him without delay to Venice.
The skipper was ready in two days. They coasted
France ; they passed in sight of Lisbon, and Candide
trembled. They passed through the Straits, and
entered the Mediterranean. At last they landed at
Venice.
"God be praised ! " said Candide, embracing Martin.
" It is here that 1 shall see again my beautiful Cune-
gonde. I trust Cacambo as myself. All is well, all
will be well, all goes as well as possible."
,.>-/" ^"
XXIV
Of Paquette and Friar Giroflee
UPON their arrival at Venice, Candide went to search
for Cacamho at every inn and coffee-house, and among
all the ladies of pleasure, but to no purpose. He sent
every day to inquire on all the ships that came in.
But there was no news of Cacambo.
"What!" said he to Martin, "I have had time to
voyage from Surinam to Bordeaux, to go from
Bordeaux to Paris, from Paris to Dieppe, from Dieppe
to Portsmouth, to coast along Portugal and Spain, to
cross the whole Mediterranean, to spend some months,
R
130 CANDIDE
and yet the beautiful Cunegonde has not arrived !
Instead of her I have only met a Parisian wench and a
Perigordian Abbe.[__Cunegonde is dead without doubt,
and there is nothing for me but to die. ^Alas ! how
much better it would have been for me to have
remained in the paradise of El Dorado than to come
back to this cursed Europe ! You are in the right, my
dear Martin : all is misery and illusion. 7 ""!
He fell into a deep melancholy, and neither went to
see the opera, nor any of the other diversions of the
Carnival ; nay, he was proof against the temptations of
all the ladies.
" You are in truth very simple," said Martin to him,
" if you imagine that a mongrel valet, who has five or
six millions in his pocket, will go to the other end of
the world to seek your mistress and bring her to you to
Venice. If he find her, he will keep her to himself ; if
he do not find her he will get another. I advise you
to forget your valet Cacambo and your mistress
Cunegonde."
Martin was not consoling. Candide s melancholy
increased ; and^Iartin continued to prove to him that
there was very little virtue or happiness upon earth,
except perhaps in El Dorado, where nobody could gain
admittancef!
While they were disputing on this important subject
and waiting for Cunegonde, Candide saw a young
Theatin friar in St. Mark s Piazza, holding a girl
on his arm. The Theatin looked fresh coloured,
plump and vigorous ; his eyes were sparkling, his
air assured, his look lofty his step bold. The girl
was very pretty, and sang ; she looked amorously at
CANDIDE 131
her Theatin, and from time to time pinched his fat
cheeks.
"At least you will allow me," said Candide to
Martin, "that these two are happy. Hitherto I have
met with none hut unfortunate people in the whole
habitable globe, except in El Dorado ; but as to this
pair, 1 would venture to lay a wager that they are very
happy."
" I lay you they are not," said Martin.
"We need only ask them to dine with us," said
Candide, " and you will see whether 1 am mistaken."
Immediately he accosted them, presented his com
pliments, and invited them to his inn to eat some
macaroni, with Lombard partridges, and caviare, and
to drink some Montepulciano, Lachrymae Christi,
Cyprus and Samos wine. The girl blushed, the
Theatin accepted the invitation and she followed him,
casting her eyes on Candide with confusion and
surprise, and dropping a few tears. No sooner had
she set foot in Candide s apartment than she cried out :
"Ah ! Mr. Candide does not know Paquette again."
Candide had not viewed her as yet with attention,
his thoughts being entirely taken up with Cunegonde ;
but recollecting her as she spoke,
"Alas!" said he, "my poor child, is it you who
reduced Doctor Pangloss to the beautiful condition
in which I saw him ? "
"Alas ! it was I, sir, indeed," answered Paquette. " I
see that you have heard all. 1 have been informed of
the frightful disasters that befell the family of my lady
Baroness, and the fair Cunegonde. I swear to you
that my fate has been scarcely less sad. I was very
132
CAXDIDK
N. innocent when you knew me. A Grey Friar, who was
j my confessor, easily seduced me. The consequences
\ were terrible. I was obliged to quit the castle some
/ time after the Baron had sent you away with kicks on
/ the backside. If a famous surgeon had not taken
I compassion on me, 1 should have died. J For some
time I was this surgeon s mistress, merely out of
gratitude.^ His wife, who was mad with jealousy,
beat me every day unmercifully ; she was a fury.
The surgeon was one of the ugliest of men, and 1 the
most wretched of women, to be continually beaten for
a man 1 did not love. You know, sir, what a
dangerous thing it is for an ill-natured woman to be
married to a doctor. Incensed at the behaviour of
his wife, he one day gave her so effectual a remedy to
cure her of a slight cold, that she died two hours
after, in most horrid convulsions. The wife s relations
prosecuted the husband ; he took flight, and I was
thrown into jail. My innocence would not have saved
me if 1 had not been good-looking. FThe judge set me
free, on condition that he succeeded the surgeon. I
was soon supplanted by a rival, turned out of doors
1 quite destitute, and obliged to continue this abomin-
^ able trade, which appears so pleasant to you men,
while TO us women it is the utmost abyss of misery.1
1 have come to exercise the profession at Venice.
Ah ! sir, if you could only imagine what it is to be
obliged to caress indifferently an old merchant, a
lawyer, _a_monk, a gondolier, an abbe, to be^xposed
to abuse and insults ; to be often reduced to borrow-
jng a petticoat, only to go and have it raised by a dis
agreeable man ; to be robbed by one of what one has
c
CANDIDE 133
earned from another ; to be subject to the extortions
~oT~the officers of justice ; and to have in prospect
T)iily a frightful old age, a hospital, and a dung-hill ;
you would conclude that I am one of the most un
happy creatures in the world."* 1
Paquette thus opened her heart to honest Candide,
in the presence of Martin, who said to his friend :
" You see that already I have won half the wager."
Friar GiroHee stayed in the dining-room, and
drank a glass or two of wine while he was waiting for
dinner.
" But," said Candide to Paquette, " you looked so
gay and content when I met you ; you sang and you
behaved so lovingly to the Theatin, that you seemed
to me as happy as you pretend to be now the
reverse."
"Ah! sir," answered Paquette, "this is one of the
miseries of the trade. Yesterday 1 was robbed a,nd
beaten by an officer_^_yet to-day I must put on good
humour to please a friar."
Candide wanted no more convincing ; he owned
that Martin was in the right. They sat down to table
with Paquette and the Theatin ; the repast was enter
taining ; and towards the end they conversed with all
confidence.
"Father," said Candide to the Friar, "you appear to
me to enjoy a _state that all the world might envy ; the
flower of health shines in your face, your expression
makes plain your happiness ; you have a very pretty
girl for your recreation, and you seem well satisfied
with your state as a Theatin."
" My faith, sir," said Friar GiroHee, " 1 wish that all ")
134 CAXDIDE
/the Theatins were at the bottom of the sea. I have
I been tempted a hundred times to set fire to the con-
_
\ vent, and go and become Turk. Qly parents forced
) me at the age of fifteen to put on this detestable habit,
( to increase the fortune of a cursed elder brother,
} whom God confound. Jealousy, discord,_jind fury
jhvell in the_convent. It is true I have preached a few
bad sermons that have brought me in a little money,
of which the prior stole half, while the rest serves to
maintain my girls ; but when I return at night to the
monastery, I am ready to dash my head against the
/ walls of the dormitory ; and all my fellows are in the
same case."~}
Martin turned towards Candide with his usual cool
ness.
" Well," said he, " have I not won the whole wager ? "
Candide gave two thousand piastres to Paquette, and
one thousand to Friar Girofiee.
" I ll answer for it," said he, "that with this they will
be happy."
" I do not believe it at all," said Martin ; "you will,
perhaps, with these piastres only render them the more
unhappy."
" Let that be as it may," said Candide, " but one
thing consoles me. 1 see that we often meet with
those whom we expected never to see more ; so that,
perhaps, as I have found my red sheep and Paquette,
it may well be that I shall also find Cunegonde."
" I wish," said Martin, " she may one day make you
very happy ; but I doubt it very much."
" You are very hard of belief," said Candide.
" I have lived," said Martin.
CANDIDE 135
" You see those gondoliers," said Candide, " are they
not perpetually singing ?"
"You do not see them," said Martin, "at home with
their wives and brats. The Doge has his troubles, the
gondoliers have theirs. It is true that, all things con
sidered, the life of a gondolier is preferable to that of
a Doge ; but I believe the difference to be so trilling
that it is not worth the trouble of examining."
" People talk," said Candicle, " of the Senator Poco
curante, who lives in that fine palace on the Brenta,
where he entertains foreigners in the politest manner.
They pretend that this man never felt any uneasi
ness."
" 1 should be glad to see such a rarity," said
Martin.
Candide immediately sent to ask the Lord Poco
curante permission to wait upon him the next day.
XXV
The Visit to Lord Pococurante, a Noble Venetiai
CAXDIDK and Martin went in a gondola on the Brenta,
and arrived at the palace of the noble Signor Pococu
rante. The gardens, laid out with taste, were adorned
with line marble statues. The palace was beautifully
built. The master of the house was a man of sixty,
and very rich. He received the two travellers witli
polite indifference, which put Candide a little out of
countenance, but was not at all disagreeable to Martin.
First, two pretty girls, very neatly dressed, served
them with chocolate, which was frothed extremely
138 CAXDIDE
well. Candide could not refrain from commending
their beauty, grace and address.
"They are good enough creatures," said the Senator.
" I make them lie with me sometimes, for I am very
tired of the ladies of the town, of their coquetries, of
their jealousies, of their quarrels, of their humours, of
their pettinesses, of their prides, of their follies, and of
the sonnets which one must make, or have made, for
them. But after all, these two girls begin to weary
me."
After breakfast, Candide walking into a long gallery
was surprised by the beautiful pictures. He asked, by
what master were the two first.
"They are by Raphael," said the Senator. "I
bought them at a great price, out of vanity, some years
,- ago. They are said to be the finest things in Italy, but
they do not please me at all. The colours are too
dark, the figures are not sufficiently rounded, nor in
good relief ; the draperies in no way resemble stuffs.
In a word, whatever may be said, I do not find there a
true imitation of nature. I only care for a picture
when I think 1 see nature itself ; and there are none of
this sort. I have a great many pictures, but I prize
them very little."
While they were waiting for dinner Pococurante
ordered a concert. Candide found the music delicious.
" This noise," said the Senator, " may amuse one for
half an hour ; but if it were to last longer it would
grow tiresome to everybody, though they durst not
own it. Music, to-day, is only the art of executing
difficult things, and that which is only difficult cannot
please long. Perhaps I should be fonder of the opera
CANDIDE 139
if they had not found the secret of making of it a
monster which shocks me. Let who will go to see
bad tragedies set to music, where the scenes are con
trived for no other end than to introduce two or three
songs ridiculously out of place, to show off an actress s
voice. Let who will, or who can, die away with
pleasure at the sight of an eunuch quavering the role
of C;usar, or of Cato, and strutting awkwardly upon the
stage. For my part I have long since renounced those
paltry entertainments which constitute the glory of
modern Italy, and ure purchased so^ dearly by sove
reigns."
Candide disputed the point a little, but with discre
tion. Martin was entirely of the Senator s opinion.
They sat down to table, and after an excellent
dinner they went into the library. Candide, seeing a
Homer magnificently bound, commended the virtuoso
on his good taste.
"There," said he, "is a book that was once the
delight of the great Pangloss, the best philosopher in
Germany."
"It is not mine," answered Pococurante coolly.
" They used at one time to make me believe that I
took a pleasure in reading him. But that continual
repetition of battles, so extremely like one another ;
those gods that are always active without doing
anything decisive ; that Helen who is the cause of the
war, and who yet scarcely appears in the piece ; that
Troy, so long besieged without being taken ; all these
together caused me great weariness. I have sometimes
asked learned men whether they were not as weary as I
of that work. Those who were sincere have owned to
140 CAXDIDE
me that the poem made them fall asleep ; yet it was
Y/ necessary to have it in their library as a monument of
antiquity, or like those rusty medals which are no
longer of use in commerce."
"But your Excellency does not think thus of
Virgil ? " said Candide.
" I grant," said the Senator, " that the second, fourth,
and sixth books of his Jincid are excellent, but as
for his pious yEneas, his strong Cloanthus, his friend
Achates, his little Ascanitis, his silly King Latinus, his
bourgeois Amata, his insipid Lavinia, I think there can
be nothing more flat and disagreeable. I prefer Tasso
a good deal, or even the soporific tales of Ariosto."
" May I presume to ask you, sir," said Candide,
" whether you do not receive a great deal of pleasure
from reading Horace ?"
"There are maxims in this writer," answered Poco
curante, " from which a man of the world may reap
great benefit, and being written in energetic verse they
are more easily impressed upon the memory. But I
care little for his journey to Brundusium, and his
account of a bad dinner, or of his low quarrel between
one Rupilius, whose words he says were full of
poisonous filth, and another whose language was
imbued with vinegar. I have read with much distaste
his indelicate verses against old women and witches ;
nor do I see any merit in telling his friend Maecenas
that if he will but rank him in the choir of lyric poets,
his lofty head shall touch the stars. Fools admire
everything in an author of reputation. For my part,
I read only to please myself. I like only that which
serves my purpose."
CANDIDE 141
Candide, having been educated never to judge for
himself, was much surprised at what he heard. Martin
found there was a good deal of reason in Pococurante s
remarks.
"Oh! here is Cicero," said Candide. "Here is the
great man whom I fancy you are never tired of read
ing."
" 1 never read him," replied the Venetian. "What is
it to me whether he pleads for Kabirius or Cluentius ?
I try causes enough myself ; his philosophical works
seem to me better, but when I found that he doubted
of everything I concluded that I knew as much as he,
and that I had no need of a guide to learn ignorance."
" Ha ! here are four-score volumes of the Academy
of Sciences," cried Martin. " Perhaps there is some
thing valuable in this collection."
"There might be," said Pococurante, "if only one of
those rakers of rubbish had shown how to make pins ;
but in all these volumes there is nothing but chimerical
systems, and not a single useful thing."
"And what dramatic works I see here." said Candide,
" in Italian, Spanish, and French."
" Yes," replied the Senator, " there are three thousand,
and not three dozen of them good for anything. As to
those collections of sermons, which altogether are not
worth a single page of Seneca, and those huge volumes
of theology, you may well imagine that neither I nor
any one else ever opens them."
Martin saw some shelves filled with English books.
" I have a notion," said he, " that a Republican must
be greatly pleased with most of these books, which are
written with a spirit of freedom."
142 CANDIDE
" Yes," answered Pococurante, " it is noble to write
as one thinks ; this is the privilege of humanity. In
^ all our Italy we write only what we do not think;
those who inhabit the country of the Cajsars and the
Antoninuses dare not acquire a single idea without the
^permission of a Dominican friar. I should be pleased
with the liberty which inspires the English genius if
passion and party spirit did not corrupt all that is
estimable in this precious liberty."
Candida, observing a Milton, asked whether he did
not look upon this author as a great man.
"Who?" said Pococurante, "that barbarian, who
writes a long commentary in ten books of harsh
verse on the first chapter of Genesis ; that coarse
imitator of the Greeks, who disfigures the Creation, and
who, while Moses represents the Eternal producing
the world by a word, makes the Messiah take a great
pair of compasses from the armoury of heaven to
circumscribe His work ? How can I have any esteem
lor a writer who has spoiled Tasso s hell and the devil,
who transforms Lucifer sometimes into a toad and
other times into a pigmy, who makes him repeat the
same things a hundred times, who makes him dispute
on theology, who, by a serious imitation of Ariosto s
comic invention of firearms, represents the devils
cannonading in heaven ? Neither I nor any man in
Italy could take pleasure in those melancholy extrava
gances ; and the marriage of Sin and Death, and the
snakes brought forth by Sin, are enough to turn the
stomach of any one with the least taste, [and his long
description of a pest-house is good only for a grave-
digger]. This obscure, whimsical, and disagreeable
CANDIDE 143
poem was despised upon its first publication, and I only
treat it now as it was treated in its own country by con
temporaries. For the matter of that 1 say what I think,
and I care very little whether others think as I do."
Candide was grieved at this speech, for he had a
respect for Homer and was fond of Milton.
"Alas !" said he softly to Martin, " 1 am afraid that
this in.in holds our German poets in very great con
tempt."
"There would not be much harm in that," said
Martin.
"Oh! what a superior man," said Candide below
his breath. " What a great genius is this Pococurante !
Nothing can please him."
After their survey of the library they went down
into the garden, where Candide praised its several
beauties.
" 1 know of nothing in so bad a taste," said the
master. " All you see here is merely trifling. After
to-morrow I will have it planted with a nobler design."
" Well," said Candide to Martin when they had taken
their leave, " you will agree that this is the happiest of
mortals, for he is above everything he possesses."
Hut do you not see," answered Martin, " that he is
disgusted with all he possesses ? Plato observed a
long while ago that those stomachs are not the best
that reject all sorts of food."
" Hut is there not a pleasure," said Candide, " in
criticising everything, in pointing out faults where
others see nothing but beauties ?"
"That is to say," replied Martin, "that there is some
pleasure in having no pleasure."
^44
CANDIDE
"Well, well," said Candide, " I find that 1 shall he
the only happy man when I am blessed with the sight
of my dear Cunegonde."
" It is always well to hope," said Martin.
However, the days and the weeks passed. Cacambo
did not come, and Candide was so overwhelmed with
grief that he did not even reflect that Paquette and
Friar Giroflce did not return to thank him.
XXVI
Of a Supper which Candide and Martin took with Six Strangers,
and who they were 3:t
ONE evening that Candide and Martin were going to
sit down to supper with some foreigners who lodged in
the same inn, a man whose complexion was as black
as soot, came behind Candide, and taking him by the
arm, said :
"Get yourself ready to go along with us ; do not fail."
Upon this he turned round and saw Cacambo !
Nothing but the sight of Cunegonde could have as
tonished and delighted him more. He was on the point
of going mad with joy. He embraced his dear friend.
T
146 CAN D IDE
" Cunegonde is here, without doubt ; where is she ?
Take me to her that I may die of joy in her company."
" Cunegonde is not here," said Cacambo, " she is
at Constantinople."
"Oh, heavens ! at Constantinople ! But were she in
China I would fly thither ; let us be off."
" We shall set out after supper," replied Cacambo.
" I can tell you nothing more ; I am a slave, my master
awaits me, I must serve him at table ; speak not a word,
eat, and then get ready."
Candide, distracted between joy and grief, delighted
at seeing his faithful agent again, astonished at finding
him a slave, filled with the fresh hope of recovering his
mistress, his heart palpitating, his understanding con
fused, sat down to table with Martin, who saw all these
scenes quite unconcerned, and with six strangers who
had come to spend the Carnival at Venice.
Cacambo waited at table upon one of the strangers ;
towards the end of the entertainment he drew near his
master, and whispered in his ear :
" Sire, your Majesty may start when you please, the
vessel is ready."
On saying these words he went out. The company
in great surprise looked at one another without speaking
a word, when another domestic approached his master
and said to him :
"Sire, your Majesty s chaise is at Padua, and the
boat is ready."
The master gave a nod and the servant went away.
The company all stared at one another again, and their
surprise redoubled. A third valet came up to a third
stranger, saying :
CANDIDE 147
"Sire, believe me, your Majesty ought not to stay
here any longer. I am going to get everything ready."
And immediately he disappeared. Candide and Martin
did not doubt that this was a masquerade of the Carnival.
Then a fourth domestic said to a fourth master :
" Your Majesty may depart when you please."
Saying this he went away like the rest. The fifth
valet said the same thing to the fifth master. But the
sixth valet spoke differently to the sixth stranger, who
sat near Candide. He said to him :
" Faith, Sire, they will no longer give credit to your
Majesty nor to me, and we may perhaps both of us be
put in jail this very night. Therefore I will take care
of myself. Adieu."
The servants being all gone, the six strangers, with
Candide and Martin, remained in a profound silence.
At length Candide broke it.
Gentlemen," said he, "this is a very good joke
indeed, but why should you all be kings ? For me I
own that neither Martin nor I is a king."
Cacambo s master then gravely answered in Italian :
" 1 am not at all joking. My name is Achmet III.
I was Grand Sultan many years. I dethroned my
brother ; my nephew dethroned me, my viziers were
beheaded, and I am condemned to end my clays in the
old Seraglio. My nephew, the great Sultan Mahmoud,
permits me to travel sometimes for my health, and I
am come to spend the Carnival at Venice."
A young man who sat next to Achmet, spoke then as
follows :
" My name is Ivan. I was once Emperor of all the
Russias, but was dethroned in my cradle. My parents
i4 CANDIDE
were confined in prison and I was educated there ; yet
I am sometimes allowed to travel in company with
persons who act as guards ; and 1 am come to spend
the Carnival at Venice."
The third said :
" I am Charles Edward, King of England ; my father
has resigned all his legal rights to me. I have fought
in defence of them ; and above eight hundred of my
adherents have been hanged, drawn and quartered. I
have been confined in prison ; I am going to Rome, to
pay a visit to the King, my father, who was dethroned
as well as myself and my grandfather, and I am come
to spend the Carnival at Venice."
The fourth spoke thus in his turn :
" I am the King of Poland ; the fortune of war has
stripped me of my hereditary dominions ; my father
underwent the same vicissitudes ; I resign myself to
Providence in the same manner as Sultan Achmet, the
Emperor Ivan, and King Charles Edward, whom God
long preserve ; and I am come to the Carnival at Venice."
The fifth said :
" I am King of Poland also ; 1 have been twice de
throned ; but Providence has given me another country,
where 1 have clone more good than all the Sarmatian
kings were ever capable of doing on the banks of the
Vistula ; I resign myself likewise to Providence, and
am come to pass the Carnival at Venice."
It was now the sixth monarch s turn to speak :
" Gentlemen/ said he, (< I am not so great a prince
as any of you ; however, I am a king. I am Theodore,
elected King of Corsica ; I had the title of Majesty, and
now am scarcely treated as a gentleman. I have
CANDIDE 149
coined money, and now am not worth a farthing ; I
have had two secretaries of state, and now I have
scarce a valet ; I have seen myself on a throne, and I
have seen myself upon straw in a common jail in
London. 1 am afraid that I shall meet with the same
treatment here though, like your Majesties, I am come
to see the Carnival at Venice."
The other five kings listened to this speech with
generous compassion. Each of them gave twenty
sequins to King Theodore to buy him clothes and
linen ; and Candide made him a present of a diamond
worth two thousand sequins.
" Who can this private person be," said the live kings
to one another, " who is able to give, and really has
given, a hundred times as much as any of us ? "
Just as they rose from table, in came tour Serene
Highnesses, who had also been stripped of their terri
tories by the fortune of war, and were come to spend
the Carnival at Venice. But Candide paid no regard
to these newcomers, his thoughts were entirely employed
on his voyage to Constantinople, in search of his
beloved Cunegonde.
x
\\Vll
Candide s Voyage to Constantinople
THE faithful Cacambo had already prevailed upon the
Turkish skipper, who \vas to conduct the Sultan
Achniet to Constantinople, to receive Candide and
Martin on his ship. They both embarked after
having made their obeisance to his miserable High
ness.
"You see," said Candide to Martin on the way, "we
supped with six dethroned kin^s, and of those six
there was one to whom I ^ave charity. Perhaps
there are many other princes yet more unfortunate.
152 CANDIDE
For my part, I have only lost a hundred sheep ; and
now I am flying into Cunegonde s arms. My dear
Martin, yet once more Pangloss was right : all is for
the best."
" I wish it," answered Martin.
"But," said Candida," it was a very strange adven
ture we met with at Venice. It has never before been
seen or heard that six dethroned kings have supped
together at a public inn."
"It is not more extraordinary," said Martin, "than
most of the things that have happened to us. It
is a very common thing for kings to be dethroned ;
and as for the honour we have had of supping in
their company, it is a trifle not worth our atten
tion."
No sooner had Candide got on board the vessel
than he flew to his old valet and friend Cacambo, and
tenderly embraced him.
"Well," said he, "what news of Cunegonde ? Is
she still a prodigy of beauty ? Does she love me still ?
How is she ? Thou hast doubtless bought her a
palace at Constantinople ? "
" My dear master," answered Cacambo, " Cunegonde
washes dishes on the banks of the Propontis, in the
service of a prince, who has very few dishes to wash ;
she is a slave in the family of an ancient sovereign
named Ragotsky, :u to whom the Grand Turk allows
three crowns a day in his exile. But what is worse
still is, that she has lost her beauty and has become
horribly ugly-"
"Well, handsome or ugly," replied Candide, "I am
a man of honour, and it is my duty to love her still.
CANDIDE 153
Hut how came she to he reduced to so abject a state
with the five or six millions that you took to her ! "
"Ah!" said Cacambo, "was not 1 to give two
millions to Senor Don Fernando d Ibaraa, y Figueora,
y Mascarenes, y Lampourdos, y Sou/a, Governor of
Buenos Ayres, for permitting Miss Cunegonde to come
away ? And did not a corsair bravely rob us of all
the rest ? Did not this corsair carry us to Cape
Matapan, to Milo, to Xicaria, to Samos, to Petra, to
the Dardanelles, to Marmora, to Scutari ? Cune
gonde and the old woman serve the prince I now
mentioned to you, and 1 am slave to the dethroned
Sultan."
" What a series of shocking calamities ! " cried
Candide. " But after all, 1 have some diamonds left ;
and I may easily pay Cunegonde s ransom. Yet it is a
pity that she is grown so ugly."
Then, turning towards Martin: "Who do you
think," said he, " is most to be pitied the Sultan
Achmet, the Emperor Ivan, King Charles Edward,
or I ? "
" How should 1 know ! " answered Martin. " I must
see into your hearts to be able to tell."
" Ah ! " said Candide, " if Pangloss were here, he
could tell."
" I know not," said Martin, " in what sort of scales
your Pangloss would weigh the misfortunes of man
kind and set a just estimate on their sorrows. All that
1 can presume to say is, that there are millions of
people upon earth \vho have a hundred times more to
complain of than King Charles Edward, the Emperor
Ivan, or the Sultan Achmet."
154 CANDIDE
" That may well be," said Candidc.
In a few days they reached the Bosphorus, and
Candide began by paying a very high ransom for
Cacambo. Then, without losing time, he and his
companions went on board a galley, in order to search
on the banks of the Propontis for his Cunegonde,
however ugly she might have become.
Among the crew there were two slaves who rowed
very badly, and to whose bare shoulders the Levantine
captain would now and then apply blows from a bull s
pizzle. Candide, from a natural impulse, looked at
these two slaves more attentively than at the other
oarsmen, and approached them with pity. Their
features, though greatly disfigured, had a slight re
semblance to those of Pangloss and the unhappy
Jesuit and YVestphalian Baron, brother to Miss Cune
gonde. This moved and saddened him. He looked
at them still more attentively.
" Indeed," said he to Cacambo, " if 1 had not seen
Master Pangloss hanged, and if I had not had the
misfortune to kill the Baron, I should think it was they
that were rowing."
At the names of the Baron and of Pangloss, the
two galley-slaves uttered a loud cry, held fast by the
seat, and let drop their oars. The captain ran up to
them and redoubled his blows with the bull s pix/le.
" Stop ! stop ! sir," cried Candide. " I will give you
what money you please."
" What ! it is Candide ! " said one of the slaves.
" What ! it is Candide ! " said the other.
"Do I dream?" cried Candide; "am I awake? or
am I on board a galley ? Is this the Baron whom
CAXDIDE 155
I killed ? Is this Master Pangloss whom 1 saw
handed ? "
"It is we ! it is we ! " answered they.
" \\V11 ! is this the great philosopher ?" said Martin.
"Ah! captain," said Candide, "what ransom will
you take for Monsieur de Thtmder-ten-Tronckh, one of
the first barons of the empire, and for Monsieur Pan-
gloss, the profoundest metaphysician in Germany ? "
" Dog of a Christian," answered the Levantine cap
tain, " since these two dogs of Christian slaves are
barons and metaphysicians, which I doubt not arc
high dignities in their country, you shall give me fifty
thousand sequins."
" Von shall have them, sir. Carry me back at once
to Constantinople, and you shall receive the money
directly. But no ; carry me first to Miss Cunegonde."
Upon the first proposal made by Candide, however,
the Levantine captain had already tacked about, and
made the crew ply their oars quicker than a bird
cleaves the air.
Candide embraced the Baron and Pangloss a hundred
times.
" And how happened it, my dear Baron, that I did
not kill you ? And, my dear Pangloss, how came you
to life again after being hanged ? And why are you
both in a Turkish galley ? "
" And is it true that my dear sister is in this country ?"
said the Baron.
" Yes," answered Cacambo.
"Then I behold, once more, my dear Candide," cried
Pangloss.
Candide presented Martin and Cacambo to them ;
56
CANDIDE
they embraced each other, and all spoke at once. The
galley flew ; they were already in the port. Instantly
Canclide sent for a Jew, to whom he sold for fifty
thousand sequins a diamond worth a hundred thousand,
though the fellow swore to him by Abraham that he
could give him no more. He immediately paid the
ransom for the Baron and Pangloss. The latter threw
himself at the feet of his deliverer, and bathed them
with his tears ; the former thanked him with a nod,
and promised to return him the money on the first
opportunity.
" But is it indeed possible that my sister can be in
Turkey ? " said lie.
"Nothing is more possible," said Cacambo, "since
she scours the dishes in the service of a Transylvanian
prince."
Candide sent directly for two Jews and sold them
some more diamonds, and then they all set out together
in another galley to deliver Cunegonde from slavery.
I ! r <
XXVIII
What happened to Candide, Cunegonde, Pangloss, Martin, &c.
" I ASK your pardon once more," said Candide to the
Baron, "your pardon, reverend father, for having run
you through the body."
" Say no more about it," answered the Baron. " I
\vas a little too hasty, I own, but since you wish to
know by what fatality 1 came to be a galley-slave I will
inform you. After I had been cured by the surgeon of
the college of the wound you gave me, 1 was attacked
and carried off by a party of Spanish troops, who
confined me in prison at Buenos Ayres at the very
time my sister was setting out thence. I asked leave
i5 CAXDIDE
to return to Rome to the General of my Order. I \v;is
appointed chaplain to the French Ambassador at Con
stantinople. I had not been eight days in this employ
ment when one evening 1 met with a young Ichoglan,
who was a very handsome fellow. The weather was
warm. The young man wanted to bathe, and I took
this opportunity of bathing also. I did not know that
it was a capital crime for a Christian to be found
naked with a young Mussulman. A cadi ordered me a
hundred blows on the soles of the feet, and condemned
me to the galleys. I do not think there ever was a
greater act of injustice. Hut 1 should be glad to know-
how my sister came to be scullion to a Transylvanian
prince who has taken shelter among the Turks."
" But you, my dear Pangloss," said Candide, " how
can it be that I behold you again ?"
" It is true," said Pangloss, "that you saw me hanged.
I should have been burnt, but you may remember it
rained exceedingly hard when they were going to roast
me ; the storm was so violent that they despaired of
lighting the fire, so 1 was hanged because they could
do no better. A surgeon purchased my body, carried
me home, and dissected me. He began with making
a crucial incision on me from the navel to the
clavicula. One could not have been worse hanged
than 1 was. The executioner of the Holy Inquisition
was a sub-deacon, and knew how to burn people
marvellously well, but he was not accustomed to hang
ing. The cord was wet and did not slip properly, and
besides it was badly tied ; in short, I still drew my
breath, when the crucial incision made me give such
a frightful scream that my surgeon fell flat upon his
back, and imagining that he had been dissecting the
CANDIDE 159
devil he ran away, dying with fear, and fell down the
staircase in his flight. His wife, hearing the noise,
flew from the next room. She saw me stretched out
upon the table with my crucial incision. She was
seixed with yet greater fear than her husband, fled, and
tumbled over him. When they came to themselves a
little, I heard the wife say to her husband : My dear,
how could you take it into your head to dissect a
heretic ? Do you not know that these people always
have the devil in their bodies ? I will go and fetch a
priest this minute to exorcise him. At this proposal I
shuddered, and mustering up what little courage I had
still remaining I cried out aloud, Have mercy on me!
At length the Portuguese barber plucked up his spirits.
He sewed up my wounds ; his wife even nursed me. 1
was upon my legs at the end of fifteen days. The
barber found me a place as lackey to a knight of Malta
who was going to Venice, but finding that my master
had no money to pay me my wages 1 entered the
service of a Venetian merchant, and went with him to
Constantinople. One day I took it into my head to
step into a mosque, where I saw an old I man and a very
pretty young devotee who was saying her paternosters.
Her bosom was uncovered, and between her breasts
she had a beautiful bouquet of tulips, roses, anemones,
ranunculus, hyacinths, and auriculas. She dropped
her bouquet ; I picked it up, and presented it to her
with a profound reverence. 1 was so long in delivering
it that the I man began to get angry, and seeing that I
was a Christian he called out for help. They carried
me before the cadi, who ordered me a hundred lashes
on the soles of the feet and sent me to the galleys.
I was chained to the very same galley and the same
i6o
CAN I) IDE
bench as the young Baron. On board this galley there
were four young men from Marseilles, five Neapolitan
priests, and two monks from Corfu, who told us that
similar adventures happened daily. The Baron main
tained that he had suffered greater injustice than I, and
I insisted that it was far more innocent to take up a
bouquet and place it again on a woman s bosom than
to be found stark naked with an Ichoglan. We were
continually disputing, and received twenty lashes with
a bull s pi/./.le when the concatenation of universal events
brought you to our galley, and you were good enough
to ransom us."
"Well, my clear Pangloss," said Candide to him,
" when you had been hanged, dissected, whipped, and
were tugging at the oar, did you always think that
everything happens for the best ? "
" I am still of my first opinion," answered Pangloss,
"for I jim a ph ih \sopher and jj:annot^retract, especially
as Leibnitz could never be \\Tong; and besides, the
pre-established_harmonv is the finest thing in the world.
and so is his plenum and nuiteriit subtilis."
-
How Candide found Cunegonde and the Old Woman again
WHILE Candide, the Baron, Pangloss, Martin, and
Cacambo were relating their several adventures, were
reasoning on the contingent or non-contingent events
of the universe, disputing on effects and causes, on moral
and physical evil, on liberty and necessity, and on the
consolations a slave may feel even on a Turkish galley,
they arrived at the house of the Transylvanian prince
on the banks of the Propontis. The first objects which
met their sight were Cunegonde and the old woman
hanging towels out to dry.
162 CAXDIDE
The Baron paled at this sight. The tender, loving
Candide, seeing his beautiful Cunegonde embrowned,
with blood-shot eyes, withered neck, wrinkled cheeks,
and rough, red arms, recoiled three paces, seized
with horror, and then advanced out of good manners.
She embraced Candide and her brother ; they em
braced the old woman, and Candide ransomed them
both.
There was a small farm in the neighbourhood which
the old woman proposed to Candide to make a shift
with till the company could be provided for in a better
manner. Cunegonde did not know she had grown
ugly, for nobody had told her of it ; and she reminded
Candide of his promise in so positive a tone that the
good man durst not refuse her. He therefore in
timated to the Baron that he intended marrying his
sister.
" I will not sulier," said the Baron, "such meanness
on her part, and such insolence on yours ; 1 will never
be reproached with this scandalous thing ; my sister s
children would never be able to enter the church in
Germany. Xo ; my sister shall only marry a baron of
the empire."
Cunegonde flung herself at his feet, and bathed them
with her tears ; still he was inflexible.
"Thou foolish fellow," said Candide; "I have
delivered thee out of the galleys, I have paid thy
ransom, and thy sister s also ; she was a scullion, and
is very ugly, yet I am so condescending as to marry
her ; and dost thou pretend to oppose the match ? I
should kill thee again, were I only to consult my
anger."
CAXDIDE
163
"Thou imyst kill me again/ said the Baron, "but
thou shall not marry my sister, at least whilst 1 am
living."
The Conclusion
AT the bottom of his heart Candide had no wish to
marry Cunegonde. Hut the extreme impertinence of
the Baron determined him to conclude the match,
and Cunegonde pressed him so strongly that lie could
not go from his word. He consulted Pangloss,
Martin, and the faithful Cacamho. Pangloss drew up
an excellent memorial, wherein he proved that the
Baron had no right over his sister, and that according
to all the laws of the empire, she might marry
Candide with her left hand. Martin was for throwing
1 66 CANDIDE
the Baron into the sea ; Cacambo decided that it
would be better to deliver him up again to the captain
of the galley, after which they thought to send him
back to the General Father of the Order at Rome by
the first ship. This advice was well received, the old
woman approved it ; they said not a word to his
sister ; the thing was executed for a little money, and
they had the double pleasure of entrapping a Jesuit,
and punishing the pride of a German baron.
It is natural to imagine that after so many disasters
Candide married, and living with the philosopher Pan-
gloss, the philosopher Martin, the prudent Cacambo,
and the old woman, having besides brought so many
diamonds from the country of the ancient Incas, must
have led a very happy life. But he was so much im
posed upon by the Jews that he had nothing left except
his small farm ; his wife became uglier every day, more
peevish and insupportable ; the old woman was infirm
and even more fretful than Cunegonde. Cacambo, who
worked in the garden, and took vegetables for sale to
Constantinople, was fatigued with hard work, and
cursed his destiny. Pangloss was in despair at not
shining in some German university. . For Martin, he
was firmly persuaded that lie would be as badly off
elsewhere, and therefore bore things patiently. Can-
elide, Martin, and Pangloss sometimes disputed about
morals and metaphysics. They often saw passing under
the windows of their farm boats full of Effendis,
Pashas, and Cadis, who were going into banishment to
Lemnos, Mitylene, or Er/eroum. And they saw other
Cadis, Pashas, and Effendis coming to supply the
place of the exiles, and afterwards exiled in their turn.
C AND IDE 167
They saw heads decently impaled for presentation to
the Sublime Porte. Such spectacles as these increased
the number of their dissertations ; and when they did
not dispute time hung so heavily upon their hands, that
one day the old woman ventured to say to them :
" 1 want to know which is worse, to be ravished a
hundred times by negro pirates, to have a buttock cut /
off, to run tiie gauntlet among the Bulgarians, to be /
whipped and hanged at an diilo-dd-ic, to be dissected, Y
to row in the galleys in short, to go through all the f
miseries we have undergone, or to stay here and have
nothing to do 1 "
" It is a great question," said Candide.
This discourse gave rise to new reflections, and
Martin especially concluded that man was born to
live either in a state of distracting inquietude or of
lethargic disgust. Candide did not quite agree to that,
but he affirmed nothing. Pangloss owned that he
had always suffered horribly, but as lie had once
asserted that everything went wonderfully well, he
asserted it still, though he no longer believed it.
What helped to confirm Martin in his detestable
principles, to stagger Candide more than ever, and to
pux/le Pangloss, was that one day they saw Paquette
and Friar Giroflee land at the farm in extreme misery.
They had soon squandered their three thousand piastres,
parted, were reconciled, quarrelled again, were thrown
into gaol, had escaped, and Friar (iiroflee had at
length become Turk. Paquette continued her trade
wherever she went, but made nothing of it.
"I foresaw," said Martin to Candide, "that your
presents would soon be dissipated, and only make
1 68 C AND IDE
them the more miserable. You have rolled in millions
of money, you and Cacambo ; and yet you are not
happier than Friar Giroflee and Paquette."
" Ha ! " said Pangloss to Paquette, " Providence has
then brought you amongst us again, my poor child !
Do you know that you cost me the tip of my nose,
an eye, and an ear, as you may see ? What a world
is this !"
And now this new adventure set them philosophising
more than ever.
In the neighbourhood there lived a very famous
Dervish who was esteemed the best philosopher in all
Turkey, and they went to consult him. Pangloss was
the speaker.
" Master," said he, " we come to beg you to tell why
so strange an animal as man was made."
"With what meddlest thou ? " said the Dervish ; "is
it thy business ? "
"But, reverend father," said Candide, "there is
horrible evil in this world."
"What signifies it," said the Dervish, "whether there
be evil or good ? When his highness sends a ship to
Egypt, does he trouble his head whether the mice on
board are at their ease or not ? "
"What, then, must we do ?" said Pangloss.
" Hold your tongue," answered the Dervish.
" I _vvas_Jn hopes," said Pangloss, " that I should
reason with you a little ^aboiit causes and effects,
aboutjhe best of possible worlds, the origin of evil, the
nature of the soul, and the pre-established harmony."
At these words, the Dervish shut the door in then"
faces.
CANDIDE 169
During this conversation, the news was spread that
two Viziers and the Mufti had been strangled at Con
stantinople, and that several of their friends had been
impaled. This catastrophe made a great noise for
some hours. Pangloss, Candide, and Martin, returning
to the little farm, saw a good old man taking the fresh
air at his door under an orange bower. Pangloss,
who was as inquisitive as he was argumentative, asked
the old man what was the name of the strangled Mufti.
" 1 do not know," answered the worthy man, " and
1 have not known the name of any Mufti, nor of any
Vizier. 1 am entirely ignorant of the event you
mention ; I presume in general that they who meddle
with the administration of public affairs die sometimes
miserably, and that they deserve it ; but 1 never
trouble my head about what is transacting at Con
stantinople ; 1 content myself with sending there for
sale the fruits of the garden which I cultivate."
Having said these words, he invited the strangers
into his house ; his two sons and two daughters pre
sented them with several sorts of sherbert, which they
made themselves, with Kaimak enriched with the
candied-peel of citrons, with oranges, lemons, pine
apples, pistachio-nuts, and Mocha coffee unadulterated
with the bad coffee of Batavia, or the American
islands. After which the two daughters of the honest
Mussulman perfumed the strangers beards.
" You must have a vast and magnificent estate," said
Candide to the Turk.
" I have only twenty acres," replied the old man ; " I
and my children cultivate them ; our labour preserves
us from three great evils weariness, vice, and want."
-= y
170 CAXDIDE
Candide, on his way home, made profound reflec
tions on the old man s conversation.
"This honest Turk," said he to Pangloss and
Martin, "seems to be in a situation far preferable to
that of the six kings with whom we had the honour of
supping.
" Grandeur," said Pangloss, " is extremely dangerous
according to the testimony of philosophers. For, in
short, Eglon, King of Moab, was assassinated by
Ehud ; Absalom was hung by his hair, and pierced
with three darts ; King Nadab, the son of Jeroboam,
was killed by Baasa ; King Ela by Zimri ; Ahaziah
by Jehu ; Athaliah by Jehoiada ; the Kings Jehoiakim,
Jeconiah, and Zedekiah, were led into captivity. You
know how perished Croesus, Astyages, Darius, Diony-
sius of Syracuse, Pyrrhus, Perseus, Hannibal, Jugurtha,
Ariovistus, Crcsar, Pompey, Nero, Otho, Vitellius,
Domitian, Richard II. of England, Edward II., Henry
VI., Richard III., Mary Stuart, Charles I., the three
Henrys of France, the Emperor Henry IV. ! You
know
" I know also," said Candide, " that we must culti
vate our garden."
" You are right," said Pangloss, " for when man was
first placed in the Garden of Eden, he was put there
/// opcmninr en in, that he might cultivate it ; which
shows that man was not born to be idle."
" Let us work," said Martin, " without disputing ;
it is the only way to render life tolerable."
The whole little society entered into this laudable
design, according to their different abilities. Their
little plot of land produced plentiful crops. Cune-
CANDIDE 171
gonde was, indeed, very ugly, but she became an
excellent pastrycook ; Paqtiette worked at embroidery ;
the old woman looked after the linen. They were all,
not excepting Friar Giroflee, of some service or other ;
for he made a good joiner, and became a very honest
man.
Pangloss sometimes said to Candide :
"There is a concatenation of events in this best of
all possible worlds : for if you had not been kicked
out of a magnificent castle for love of Miss Cune-
gonde : it you had not been put into the Inquisition :
if you had not walked over America : if you had not
stabbed the Baron : if you had not lost all your sheep
from the fine country of El Dorado : you would not be
here eating preserved citrons and pistachio-nuts."
" All that is very well," answered Candide, " but let
us cultivate our garden."
NOTES
1 P. 2. The name Pangloss is derived from two Greek words signifying
" all " and " language."
* I". 8. The Abates were a tribe of Tartars settled on the shores of
the Danube, who later dwelt in part of Circassia.
;l P. 15. Venereal disease was said to have been first brought from
Hispaniola, in the West Indies, by some followers of Columbus who were
later employed in the siege of Naples. From this latter circumstance it
was at one time known as the Neapolitan disease.
4 P. 20. The great earthquake of Lisbon happened on the first of
November 1755.
* P. 21. Such was the aversion of the Japanese ""to the Christian
faith that they compelled Europeans trading with their islands to
trample on the cross, renounce all marks of Christianity, and swear that
it was not their religion. See chap. xi. of the voyage to Laputa in
Swift s " Gulliver s Travels."
l! P. 25. This auto-Ja-fi- actually took place, some months after the
earthquake, on June 20, 1756.
7 P. 26. The rejection of bacon convicting them, of course, of being
Jews, and therefore fitting victims for an auto-da-fe.
* P. 26. The San-benito was a kind of loose over-garment painted
with flames, figures of devils, the victim s own portrait, &c., worn by
persons condemned to death by the Inquisition when going to the stake
on the occasion of an auto-da-fc. Those who expressed repentance for
their errors wore a garment of the same kind covered with flames
directed downwards, while that worn by Jews, sorcerers, and renegades
bore a St. Andrew s cross before and behind.
9 P. 29. " This Notre-Pame is of wood ; every year she weeps on the
day of her fete, and the people weep also. One day the preacher, seeing
a carpenter with dry eyes, asked him how it was that he did not dissolve
in tears when the Holy Virgin wept. Ah, my reverend father, replied
he, it is I who re-fastened her in her niche yesterday. I drove three
great nails through her behind ; it is then she would have wept if she
had been able. " Voltaire, " Melanges."
174 NOTES
10 V. 47. The following posthumous note of Voltaire s was first added
to M. Beuchot s edition of his works issued in 1829 : " See the extreme
discretion of the author ; there has not been up to the present any Pope
named Urban X. ; he feared to give a bastard to a known Pope. What
circumspection ! What delicacy of conscience ! " The last Pope Urban
was the eighth, and he died in 1644.
11 P. 50. Muley-Ismael was Emperor of Morocco from 1672 to 1727,
and was a notoriously cruel tyrant.
l - P. 51. " Oh, what a misfortune to be an eunuch ! "
1:1 P. 54. Carlo Broschi, called Farinelli, an Italian singer, born at
Naples in 1705, without being exactly Minister, governed Spain under
Ferdinand VI.; he died in 1782. He has been made one of the chief
persons in one of the comic operas of MM. Auber and Scribe.
14 P. 57. Jean Robeck, a Swede, who was born in 1672, will be found
mentioned in Rousseau s " Nouvelle Heloise." He drowned himself in
the Weser at Bremen in 1729, and was the author of a Latin treatise on
voluntary death, first printed in 1735.
15 P. 65. A spontoon was a kind of half pike, a military weapon carried
by officers of infantry and used as a medium for signalling orders to the
regiment.
I(i P. 70. Later Voltaire substituted the name of the Father Croust
for that of Didrie. Of Croust he said in the " Dictionnaire Philosophique"
that he was " the most brutal of the Society."
17 P. 74. By the "Journal of Trevoux " Voltaire meant a critical
periodical printed by the Jesuits at Trevoux under the title of " Memoires
pour servir a 1 Histoire des Sciences et des Beaux-Arts." It existed
from 1701 until 1767, during which period its title underwent many
changes.
18 P. 81. It has been suggested that Voltaire, in speaking of red
sheep, referred to the llama, a South American ruminant allied to the
camel. These animals are sometimes of a reddish colour, and were
notable as pack-carriers and for their fleetness.
19 P. 82. The first English translator curiously gives "a tourene of
bouilli that weighed two hundred pounds," as the equivalent of " nn
contour bouilli qui pesait deux cent lirres." The French editor of the 1869
reprint points out that the South American vulture, or condor, is
meant ; the name of this bird, it may be added, is taken from "cuntur,"
that given it by the aborigines.
- P. 102. Socinians ; followers of the teaching of Lalius and Faustus
Socinus (i6th century), which denied the doctrine of the Trinity, the
deity of Christ, the personality of the devil, the native and total
depravity of man, the vicarious atonement, and eternal punishment.
The Socinians are now represented by the Unitarians. Maniclicans :
followers of Manes or Manichaeus (3rd century), a Persian who main-
NOTES 175
tained that there are two principles, the one good and the other evil,
each equally powerful in the government of the world.
81 P. in. In the 1759 editions, in place of the long passage in
brackets from here to page 119, there was only the following:
" Sir, 1 said the Perigordian Abb;: to him, have you noticed that
young person who has so roguish a face and so fine a figure ? You
may have her for ten thousand francs a month, and fifty thousand
crowns in diamonds. I have only a day or two to give her, answered
Candide, because I have a rendezvous at Venice. In the evening
after supper the insinuating 1 erigordian redoubled his politeness and
attentions."
" P. 112. The play referred to is supposed to be " Le Comte
d Kssex," by Thomas Corneille.
23 P. 112. In France actors were at one time looked upon as excom
municated persons, not worthy of burial in holy ground or with
Christian rites. In 1730 the " honours of sepulture" were refused to
Mademoiselle Lecouvreur (doubtless the Miss Monime of this passage).
Voltaire s miscellaneous works contain a paper on the matter.
- 4 P. 113. Klie-Catherine Freron was a French critic (1719-1776)
who incurred the enmity of Voltaire. In 1752 Freron, in " Lettres sur
quelques ecrits du temps," wrote pointedly of Voltaire as one who
chose to be all things to all men, and Voltaire retaliated by references
such as these in " Candide."
25 P. 115. (iabriel Gauchat (1709-1779), French ecclesiastical writer,
was author of a number of works on religious subjects.
26 P. 115. Nicholas Charles Joseph Trublet (1697-1770) was a French
writer whose criticism of Voltaire was revenged in passages such as
this one in " Candide," and one in the " Pauvre Diable," beginning :
L abbe Trublet avail alors le rage
D etre a Paris un petit personage.
- r P. 122. Damiens, who attempted the life of Louis XV. in 1757,
was born at Arras, capital of Artois (Atrebatie).
28 P. 122. On May 14, 1610, Kavaillac assassinated Henry VI.
- 9 P. 122. On December 27, 1594, Jean Chatel attempted to assassi
nate Henry IV.
:t() P. 125 This same curiously inept criticism of the war which cost
France her American provinces occurs in Voltaire s memoirs, wherein
he says, "In 1756 England made a piratical war upon France for some
acres of snow." See also his " Precis du Siecle de Louis XV."
31 P. 126. Admiral Byng was shot on March 14, 1757.
32 P. 133. Commenting upon this passage, M. Sarcey says admir
ably: "All is there! In those ten lines Voltaire has gathered all the
176 NOTES
griefs and all the terrors of these creatures ; the picture is admirable
for its truth and power ! But do you not feel the pity and sympathy
of the painter ? Here irony becomes sad, and in a way an avenger.
Voltaire cries out with horror against the society which throws some
of its members into such an abyss. He has his Bartholomew fever ;
we tremble with him through contagion."
;!! P. 145. The following particulars of the six monarchs may prove
not uninteresting. Achmet III. (b. 1673, d. 1739) was dethroned in
1730. Ivan VI. (b. 1740, d. 1762) was dethroned in 1741. Charles
Edward Stuart, the Pretender (b. 1720, d. 1788). Auguste III. (b. 1696.
d. 1763). Stanislaus (b. 1682, d. 1766). Theodore (b. 1690, d. 1755).
It will be observed that, although quite impossible for the six kings
ever to have met, five of them might have been made to do so without
any anachronism.
;i4 P. 152. Fran<;ois Leopold Kagotsky (1676- 1735).
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PLEASE DO NOT REMOVE
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