by Voltaire
Candide, with the greatest submission, prepared to obey the commands of his fair mistress, and though he was still wrapt in amazement, though his voice was low and tremulous, though his back pained him, yet he gave her a most ingenious account of everything that had happened to him since the moment of their separation. Cunégonde, with her eyes lifted to heaven, shed tears when he related the death of the good Anabaptist James, and of Pangloss; after which she related her adventures to Candide, who lost not one syllable she uttered, and seemed to devour her with his eyes all the time she was speaking.13
VIII
The History of Cunégonde
I was in bed and fast asleep when heaven chose to send the Bulgarians to our delightful castle of Thunder-ten-tronckh, where they murdered my father and brother, and cut my mother in pieces. A tall Bulgarian soldier, six feet high, seeing that I had fainted at this sight, attempted to ravish me. At that I recovered my senses. I cried, I struggled, I bit, I scratched, I would have torn the tall Bulgarian’s eyes out, not knowing that what had happened at my father’s castle was a customary thing. The brutal soldier, enraged at my resistance, gave me a cut in the left groin with his knife, the mark of which I still carry.“nities.” “I long to see it,“ said Candide, with all imaginable simplicity. ”You shall,” said Cunégonde; ”but let me proceed.” “Please do,” replied Candide.
She continued: “A Bulgarian captain came in, and saw me covered in my blood, and the soldier still as busy as if no one had been present. The officer, enraged at the fellow’s lack of respect to him, killed him with one stroke of his sabre. This captain took care of me, had me cured, and carried me as a prisoner of war to his quarters. I washed what little linen he owned and prepared his food. He was very fond of me, that was certain; neither can I deny that he was handsome, and had a white soft skin; but he was very stupid, and knew nothing of philosophy. It was evident that he had not been educated under Dr. Pangloss. After three months, having lost all his money, and being tired of me, he sold me to a Jew named Don Issachar, who traded in Holland and Portugal, and was passionately fond of women. This Jew showed me great kindness, in hopes to gain my favours; but this got him nowhere with me. A modest woman may be once violated, but her virtue is greatly strengthened as a result. In order to keep me hidden, he brought me to this country house you now see. I have hitherto believed that nothing could equal the beauty of the castle of Thunder-ten-tronckh, but I found I was mistaken.
“The Grand Inquisitor saw me one day at mass, ogled me all the time of service, and when it was over sent to let me know he wanted to speak with me about some private business. I was taken to his palace, where I told him all my story. He pointed out that it was beneath a person of my birth to belong to an Israelite. A suggestion was then made to Don Issachar, that he should turn me over to his lordship. Don Issachar, being the court banker and a man of credit, did not want to go along with it. His lordship threatened him with an auto-da-fé; in short, my Jew was frightened into a bargain, and it was agreed between them that the house and myself should belong to both of them; that the Jew should have Monday, Wednesday, and the Sabbath to himself, and the Inquisitor the other four days of the week. This agreement has existed almost six months, but not without several quarrels about whether the space from Saturday night to Sunday morning belonged to the old or the new law. For my part, I have so far withstood them both, and truly I believe that this is the very reason why they are both so fond of me.
“Finally, to avert further earthquakes, and to intimidate Don Issachar, my Lord Inquisitor chose to celebrate an auto-da-fé. He did me the honour of inviting me to the ceremony. I had a very good seat; and refreshments of all kinds were offered the ladies between mass and the execution. I was dreadfully shocked at the burning of the two Jews and the honest Biscayner who married his godmother; but how great was my surprise, my consternation and concern, when I beheld a figure so like Pangloss, dressed in a san-benito and mitre! I rubbed my eyes, I looked at him attentively. I saw him hanged and I fainted. Scarcely had I recovered my senses when I saw you, stark naked: this was the peak of horror, grief and despair. I must confess to you for a truth, that your skin is far whiter and more delicate than that of the Bulgarian captain. This spectacle worked me up to a pitch of distraction. I screamed out, and would have said, ‘Hold, barbarians!’ but my voice failed me; and indeed my cries would have been useless. After you had been severely whipped, ‘How is it possible,’ I said to myself, ‘that the lovely Candide and the sage Pangloss should be in Lisbon, the one to receive a hundred lashes, and the other to be hanged, by order of my Lord Inquisitor, whose mistress I am?’ Pangloss deceived me most cruelly in saying that everything is fittest and best.
“Thus agitated and perplexed, now distracted and lost, now half-dead with grief, I revolved in my mind the murder of my father, mother, and brother, committed before my eyes; the insolence of the villainous Bulgarian soldier; the wound he gave me in the groin; my servitude; my being a cook wench to my Bulgarian captain; my subjection to the dirty Jew and my cruel Inquisitor; the hanging of Doctor Pangloss; the Misererex sung while you were being whipped; and particularly the kiss I gave you behind the screen the last day I ever saw you. I returned thanks to God for having brought you back to me after so many trials. I charged the old woman who attends me to bring you here as soon as was convenient. She has punctually followed my orders, and I now enjoy the inexpressible satisfaction of seeing you, hearing you, and speaking to you. But you must certainly be half dead with hunger; I myself am very hungry; and so let us sit down to supper.”
Upon this the two lovers immediately placed themselves at table, and after having eaten, they returned to the magnificent sofa already mentioned, where they were when Signor Don Issachar, one of the masters of the house, entered unexpectedly. It was the Sabbath-day, and he came to enjoy his privilege, and sigh forth his passion at the feet of the fair Cunégonde.
IX
What happened to Cunégonde, Candide, the Grand Inquisitor, and the Jew
This same Issachar was the most choleric little Hebrew that had ever been in Israel since the captivity of Babylon.y “What’s this,” said he, “you Galilean wretch? The Inquisitor was not enough for you, but this rascal must come in for a share with me!” In uttering these words he drew out a long sword which he always carried about with him, and, supposing his adversary defenseless, he attacked him furiously; but our honest Westphalian had received a handsome sword from the old woman with his suit of clothes. Candide drew his sword, and though he was the most gentle, sweet-tempered young man breathing, he whipped it into the Israelite, and laid him sprawling on the floor at the fair Cunegonde’s feet.
“Holy Virgin!” cried she, “what will become of us? A man killed in my apartment! If the police come we are done for.” “Had not Pangloss been hanged,” replied Candide, “he would have given us most excellent advice in this emergency, for he was a profound philosopher. But since he is not here let us consult the old woman.” She was very understanding, and was beginning to give her advice, when another door opened suddenly. It was now one o’clock in the morning, and of course the beginning of Sunday, which, by agreement, belonged to my Lord Inquisitor. Entering, he discovered the whipped Candide, with his drawn sword in his hand, a dead body stretched on the floor, Cunégonde frightened out of her wits, and the old woman giving advice.
At that very moment thought came into Candide’s head. “If this holy man,” thought he, “should call for assistance, I shall most
THE RETURN OF DON ISSACHAR
undoubtedly be condemned to be burned, and Miss Cunégonde may perhaps meet with no better treatment. Besides he was the cause of my being so cruelly whipped; he is my rival; and as I have now begun to dip my hands in blood, I will kill away, for there is no time to hesitate.” This whole train of reasoning was clear and instantaneous ; so that, without giving time to the Inquisitor to recover from his surprise, Candide stabbed him, and laid him by the side of the Jew. ”Here’s another fine pi
ece of work!” cried Cunégonde. ”Now there can be no hope for us; we’ll be excommunicated; our last hour has come! But how could you, who are of so mild a temper, kill a Jew and Inquisitor in two minutes’ time?” “Beautiful miss,” answered Candide, ”when a man is in love, is jealous, and has been whipped by the Inquisition, he is no longer himself.”
The old woman then put in her word. “There were three Andalusian horses in the stable,” said she, “with their bridles and saddles. Let the brave Candide get them ready; madame has a parcel of gold coins and jewels. Let’s mount the horses immediately, though I have only one buttock to sit on. Let us set out for Cadiz; it is the finest weather in the world, and there is great pleasure in travelling in the cool of the night.”
Candide, without any further hesitation, saddles the three horses; and Miss Cunégonde, the old woman and he set out, and travel thirty miles without a stop. While they were making the best of their way, the Holy Brotherhoodz entered the house. My Lord the Inquisitor was buried in a magnificent manner; and Master Issachar’s body was thrown upon a dunghill.
Candide, Cunégonde, and the old woman had by this time reached the little town of Avecina, in the midst of the mountains of Sierra Morena, and were engaged in the following conversation in an inn where they were staying.
X
In what distress Candide, Cunégonde, and the Old Woman arrived at Cadiz; and of their Embarkation
“Who could it be that has robbed me of my gold coins and jewels?” exclaimed Miss Cunégonde, all bathed in tears. “How will we live? what will we do? where will I find Inquisitors and Jews who can give me more?” “Alas!” said the old woman, “I have a shrewd suspicion of a reverend Father Cordelier, who shared the same inn with us last night at Badajoz. God forbid I should condemn any one wrongfully, but he came into our room twice, and he set off in the morning long before us.”
“Alas!” said Candide, “Pangloss has often proved to me that the goods of this world are common to all men, and that every one has an equal right to the enjoyment of them;aa but according to these principles, the Cordelier should have left us enough to carry us to the end of our journey. Have you nothing at all left, my dear Miss Cunégonde?” “Not a sous,”ab replied she. “What can we do, then?” said Candide. “Sell one of the horses,” replied the old woman. “I will ride behind Miss Cunégonde, though I have only one buttock to ride on; and we shall reach Cadiz, never fear.”
In the same inn there was a Benedictine friar, who bought the horse very cheap. Candide, Cunégonde, and the old woman, after passing through Lucina, Chellas, and Letrixa, arrived finally at Cadiz. A fleet was then getting ready, and troops were assembling, in order to reason with the Jesuit fathers of Paraguay, who were accused of
During their voyage they amused themselves with many profound reasonings on poor Pangloss’s philosophy. “We are now going into another world, and surely it must be there that everything is best; for I must confess that we have had some reason to complain of what passes in ours, in regard to both our physical and moral states. Though I have a sincere love for you,” said Miss Cunégonde, “I still shudder at the thought of what I have seen and experienced.” “All will be well,” replied Candide. “The sea of this new world is already better than our European seas; it is smoother, and the winds blow more regularly.” “God grant it,” said Cunégonde. “But I have met with such terrible treatment in this that I have almost lost all hopes of a better.” “What murmurings and complainings indeed!” cried the old woman. “If you had suffered half what I have done there might be some reason for it.” Miss Cunégonde could scarcely refrain laughing at the good old woman, and thought it droll enough to pretend to a greater share of misfortune than herself. “Alas! you poor old thing,” said she, “unless you have been ravished by two Bulgarians, had received two deep wounds in your body, had seen two of your own castles demolished, had lost two fathers and two mothers, and seen both of them barbarously murdered before your eyes, and to sum up all, had two lovers whipped at an auto-da-fé, I cannot see how you could be more unfortunate than I. Add to this, though born a baroness, and bearing seventy-two quarterings, I have been reduced to a cook-wench.” “Miss,” replied the old woman, “you do not know my birth and rank; but if I were to show you everything, you would not talk in this manner, but would suspend your judgment.” This speech inspired a great curiosity in Candide and Cunégonde, and the old woman continued as follows.
XI
The History of the Old Woman
I have not always been bleary-eyed; my nose did not always touch my chin; nor was I always a servant. You must know that I am the daughter of Pope Urban X and of the Princess of Palestrina.15 Until the age of fourteen I was brought up in a castle so splendid that all the castles of your German barons would not have served it as a stable, and one of my robes would have bought half the province of Westphalia. I grew up, and improved in beauty, wit, and every graceful accomplishment; and in the midst of pleasures, dignities and the highest expectations. I was already inspiring young men to love. My breast began to take its right form: and such a breast—white, firm, and formed like that of Venus of Medicis. My eyebrows were as black as jet; and as for my eyes, they darted flames, and eclipsed the lustre of the stars, as I was told by the poets of our part of the world. My maids, when they dressed and undressed me, used to fall into an ecstasy whether viewing me from in front or behind; and all the men longed to be in their places.
I was engaged to a sovereign prince of Massa Carara. Such a prince! as handsome as myself, sweet-tempered, agreeable, witty, and in love with me madly. I loved him too, as one loves for the first time, with devotion approaching idolatry. The wedding preparations were made with surprising splendour and magnificence; there were feasts, carousals, and burlettas; all Italy composed sonnets in my praise, though not one of them was tolerable. I was on the point of reaching the summit of bliss, when an old marquise, who had been mistress to the prince my husband, invited him to drink a cup of chocolate. In less than two hours after he returned from the visit, he died of the most terrible convulsions. But this is a mere trifle. My mother, distracted to the highest degree, and yet less afflicted than I, determined to escape for some time from the funereal
THE TOILET OF THE POPE’S DAUGHTER
atmosphere. As she had a very fine estate in the neighbourhood of Gaieta, ac we embarked on board a galley, which was gilded like the high altar of St Peter’s at Rome. At sea, we were raided by a pirate ship from Salé.ad Our men defended themselves like true pope’s soldiers ; they flung themselves upon their knees, laid down their weapons, and begged the corsair to give them absolution in articulo mortis.ae
The Moors presently stripped us as naked as monkeys. My mother, my maids of honour, and myself were all treated in the same manner. It is amazing how quick these gentry are at undressing people. But what surprised me most was, that they thrust their fingers into every part of our bodies that their fingers could in any way reach. I thought it a very strange kind of ceremony; for that is how we are generally apt to judge of things when we have not seen the world. I learnt afterwards that it was to discover if we had no diamonds concealed. This practice has been long-standing among those civilised nations that scour the seas. I was informed that the religious Knights of Malta never fail to make this search whenever any Moors of either sex fall into their hands. It is one of those international laws from which they never deviate.
I need not tell you 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 that we must have suffered on board the pirate ship. My mother was still extremely handsome, our maids of honour, and even our common waiting-women had more charms than were to be found in all Africa. As to myself, I was enchanting; I was beauty itself, and then I had my innocence. But alas! I did not retain it long; this precious flower, which was reserved for the lovely prince of Massa Carara, was plucked by the captain of the Moorish vessel, who was a hideous negro, and thought he did
me infinite honour. Indeed, both the Princess of Palestrina and myself must have been very strong indeed to undergo all the hardships and violences we suffered till our arrival at Morocco. But I will not detain you any longer with such common things; they are hardly worth mentioning.
Upon our arrival at Morocco we found that kingdom bathed in blood. Fifty sons of the Emperor Muley Ishmaelaf were each at the head of a party. This produced fifty civil wars of blacks against blacks, of browns against browns, and of mulattoes against mulattoes. In short, the whole empire was one continued scene of car-cases.