by Voltaire
As soon as our travellers had taken leave of his excellency, “Well,” said Candide to Martin, “I hope you will own that this man is the happiest of all mortals, for he is above everything he possesses.” “But don’t you see,” answered Martin, “that he dislikes everything he possesses? Plato said a long time ago that the best stomachs are not those which refuse all food.” “True,” said Candide, “but still there must certainly be a pleasure in criticising everything, and in seeing faults where others think they see beauties.” “That is,” replied Martin, “there is a pleasure in having no pleasure.” “Well, well,” said Candide, “I find that I will be the only happy man at last, when I am blessed with the sight of my dear Cunégonde.” “It is good to hope,” said Martin.
In the meantime, days and weeks passed away, and no news of Cacambo. Candide was so overwhelmed with grief that he did not notice that Pacquette and Friar Giroflée had never returned and thanked him.
XXVI
Candide and Martin sup with six strangers; and who they were
One evening when Candide and Martin were going to sit down to supper with some foreigners who lodged at the same inn where they were staying, a man, with a face the colour of soot, came behind him, and taking him by the arm, said “Be ready to leave with us; don’t miss this.” He turned around and saw Cacambo. Nothing but the sight of Miss Cunégonde could have given him greater joy and surprise. He was almost beside himself. After embracing this dear friend, “Cunégonde!” he said, “Cunégonde has come with you, no doubt! Where, where is she? Take me to her this instant so that I may die of joy in her presence.” “Cunégonde is not here,” answered Cacambo, “she is at Constantinople.” “Good heavens, at Constantinople! But no matter if she were in China, I would fly there. Quick, quick, dear Cacambo, let’s go.” “We will leave after eating,” said Cacambo. “I cannot at present say anything more to you. I am a slave, and my master waits for me: I must go and wait on him at table. But mum! say not a word; only get your supper, and be ready.”
Candide, divided between joy and grief, charmed to have thus met his faithful agent again, and surprised to hear he was a slave, his heart palpitating, his senses confused, but full of the hopes of recovering his dear Cunégonde, sat down to eat with Martin, who watched all these scenes cooly, and with six strangers, who had come to spend the Carnival at Venice.
Cacambo, who was pouring a drink for one of these strangers, drew near to his master when the meal was nearly over, and whispered to him in the ear, “Sire, your majesty may go when you please; the ship is ready”; and so saying, he left the room. The guests, surprised at what they had heard, looked at each other without speaking a word, when another servant drawing near to his master, in like manner said, “Sire, your majesty’s post-chaise is at Padua, and the bark is ready.” The master made a sign and the servant instantly withdrew. The diners all stared at each other again, and the general astonishment was increased. A third servant then approached another of the strangers, and said, “Sire, believe me, your Majesty should not stay here any longer; I will go and get everything ready,” and instantly disappeared.
Candide and Martin had no doubt now that this was some of the diversions of the Carnival, and that these were characters in masquerade. Then a fourth domestic said to the fourth stranger, “Your majesty may set off when you please”; saying this, he went away like the rest. A fifth valet said the same to a fifth master. But the sixth domestic spoke in a different style to the person on whom he waited, and who sat near to Candide. “My word, sir,” said he, “they will give no more credit to your majesty or to me, and we could both wind up in jail this very night; and therefore I’ve got to take care of myself, and so adieu.” With the servants all gone, the six strangers, with Candide and Martin, remained in a profound silence. Finally Candide broke it by saying, “Gentlemen, this is a very singular joke, upon my word; why, how came you all to be kings? For my part I assure you that neither my friend Martin here nor myself have any claim to royalty.”
Cacambo’s master then began, with great gravity, to speak in Italian: “I am not joking in the least. My name is Achmet III.cd I was grand seignor for many years; I dethroned my brother, my nephew dethroned me, my viziers lost their heads, and I am condemned to end my days in the old seraglio. My nephew, the Grand Sultan Mahomet, gives me permission to travel sometimes for my health, and I am here to spend the Carnival at Venice.”
A young man who sat by Achmet spoke next, and said: “My name is Ivan.ce I was once Emperor of all the Russias, but was dethroned while still in my cradle. My parents were locked up, and I was brought up in a prison; yet I am sometimes allowed to travel, though always with persons to keep a guard over me, and I am here to spend the Carnival at Venice.”
The third said: “I am Charles-Edward, King of England;cf my father ceded his royal rights to me. I have fought in defence of my rights, and near a thousand of my friends have had their hearts taken out of their bodies alive, and thrown into their faces. I have myself been confined in a prison. I am going to Rome to visit the king my father, who was dethroned as well as myself and my grandfather; and I am here to spend the Carnival at Venice.”
The fourth spoke thus: “I am the King of Poland;cg the fortune of war has stripped me of my hereditary dominions. My father experienced the same vicissitudes of fate. I resign myself to the will of Providence, in the same manner as Sultan Achmet, the Emperor Ivan, and King Charles Edward, to whom, I hope, God gives long lives; and I am here to spend the Carnival at Venice.”
The fifth said: “I am King of Poland also.ch I have twice lost my kingdom; but Providence has given me other dominions, where I have done more good than all the Sarmatian kings put together ever managed to do on the banks of the Vistula. I resign myself likewise to Providence; and am here to spend the Carnival at Venice.”
It now came to the sixth monarch’s turn to speak. “Gentlemen,” said he, “I am not so great a prince as the rest of you, it is true, but I am, however, a crowned head. I am Theodore, elected king of Corsica.ci I have had the title of majesty, and am now barely treated with common civility. I have coined money and am not now worth a single ducat. I have had two secretaries, and am now without a valet. I was once seated on a throne, and since then have lain upon a truss of straw in a common jail in London, and I very much fear I shall meet with the same fate here in Venice, where I’ve come, like your majesties, to divert myself at the Carnival.”
The other five kings listened to this speech with great attention; it excited their compassion; each of them made the unhappy Theodore a present of twenty sequins, and Candide gave him a diamond worth just a hundred times that sum. “Who can this private person be?” said the five princes to one another, “who is able to give, and has actually given, an hundred times as much as any of us?”
Just as they rose from the table, in came four serene highnesses, who had also been stripped of their territories by the fortunes of war, and who had come to spend the remainder of the Carnival at Venice. Candide took no manner of notice of them; he was concerned only with his voyage to Constantinople, where he intended to go in search of his lovely Miss Cunégonde.
XXVII
Candide’s Voyage to Constantinople
The trusty Cacambo had already made arrangements with the captain of the Turkish ship that was to carry Sultan Achmet back to Constantinople, to take Candide and Martin on board. Accordingly, they both boarded ship, after paying their respects to his miserable highness. As they were going on board, Candide said to Martin: “You see we ate in company with six dethroned kings, and to one of them I gave charity. Perhaps there may be a great many other princes still more unfortunate. For my part, I have lost only a hundred sheep, and am now going to fly to the arms of my charming Miss Cunégonde. My dear Martin, I must insist on it that Pangloss was right. All is for the best.” “I hope so,” said Martin. “But this was an odd adventure that we met with in Venice. I do not think there has ever before been an instance of six dethroned monarchs eating
together at a public inn.” “This is not more extraordinary,” said Martin, “than most of what has happened to us. It is a very common thing for kings to be dethroned; and as for our having the honour to eat with six of them, it is a mere accident which doesn’t deserve our attention.”
As soon as Candide set foot on board the vessel he flew to his old friend and valet, Cacambo; and throwing his arms around his neck, embraced him with joy. “Well,” said he, “what news of Miss Cunégonde? Is she still the paragon of beauty? Does she love me still? How is she? You have no doubt purchased a superb palace for her at Constantinople?”
“My dear master,” replied Cacambo, “Miss Cunégonde washes dishes on the banks of the Propontis, cj in the house of a prince who has very few to wash. She is at present a slave in the family of an ancient sovereign named Ragotsky,29 whom the grand Turk allows three crowns a day to maintain him in his exile; but the most melancholy circumstance of all this is that she has turned horribly ugly.” ”Ugly or handsome,” said Candide, ”I am a man of honour; and, as such, am obliged to love her still. But how could she have possibly been reduced to so abject a condition when I sent five or six millions to her by you?” “Well,” said Cacambo, ”wasn’t I obliged to give two millions to Seignor Don Fernando d’Ibaraa y Fagueora y Mascarenes y Lampourdos y Souza, the Governor of Buenos Ayres, for his permission to take Miss Cunégonde away with me? And then didn’t a pirate very gallantly strip us of all the rest? And then didn’t this same pirate carry us with him to Cape Matapan, to Milo, to Nicaria, to Samos, to Petra, to the Dardanelles, to Marmora, to Scutari ? Miss Cunégonde and the old woman are now servants to the prince I have told you of, and I myself am slave to the dethroned Sultan.” “What a chain of shocking accidents!” exclaimed Candide. ”But, after all, I still have some diamonds left, with which I can easily buy Miss Cunégonde’s liberty. It is a pity, though, she is grown so very ugly.”
Then turning to Martin, he asked, “What do you think? Whose condition is most to be pitied, the Emperor Achmet‘s, the Emperor Ivan’s, King Charles Edward’s, or mine?” “I don’t know at all,” said Martin. “I would need to enter the heart of each man to know.” “Ah!” cried Candide, “were Pangloss here now, he would have known and satisfied me at once.” “I don’t know,” said Martin, “what scales your Pangloss would use to weigh the misfortunes of mankind, and set a value on their sufferings. All that I pretend to know of the matter is that there are millions of men on the earth whose conditions are a hundred times more pitiable than those of King Charles Edward, the Emperor Ivan, or Sultan Achmet.” “You may very well be right,” answered Candide.
In a few days they reached the Bosphorous. Candide began by re-purchasing Cacambo at a very high price; then, without losing time, he and his companions went on board a galley in order to search for his Cunégonde on the banks of the Propontis, however ugly she may have grown.
There were two slaves among the crew of the galley, who rowed very poorly, and to whose bare backs the master of the vessel frequently applied a few lashes with a bullwhip. Candide naturally looked at these two slaves more attentively than at any of the rest, and out of pity moved closer to them. Certain features of their disfigured faces appeared to him to bear a resemblance to those of Pangloss and the unhappy Baron Jesuit, Miss Cunégonde’s brother. This notion moved and saddened him. He examined them more attentively than before. “In truth,” said he to Cacambo, “if I had not seen my master Pangloss hanged, and had not myself been unlucky enough to kill the Baron, I should absolutely think that those two rowers were the men.”
No sooner had Candide uttered the names of the Baron and Pangloss than the two slaves gave a great cry, ceased rowing, and dropped their oars from their hands. The master of the vessel seeing this, ran up to them, and redoubled the discipline of the bullwhip. “Stop, stop,” cried Candide, “I will give you as much money as you want.” “Good heavens! it is Candide,” said one of the men. “Candide !” cried the other. “Do I dream?” said Candide, “or am I awake? Am I actually on board this galley? Is this my Lord Baron whom I killed? and that my Master Pangloss, whom I saw hanged?”
“It is I! it is I!” they both cried together. “What, is this your great philosopher?” said Martin. “Sir,” said Candide to the captain of the ship, “how much do you want for the ransom of the Baron of Thunder-ten-tronckh, who is one of the first barons of the empire, and Mr. Pangloss, the most profound metaphysician in Germany ?” “Why, then, Christian cur,” replied the Turkish captain, “since these two dogs of Christian slaves are barons and meta-physicians, who are no doubt of high rank in their own country, you will give me fifty thousand sequins.”
“You will have them, sir; take me back as quickly as possible to Constantinople, and you will receive the money immediately. Or, no! take me to Miss Cunégonde.” The captain, at Candide’s first word, had turned his ship around, and he made the crew ply their oars so quickly that the vessel flew through the water quicker than a bird cleaves the air.
Candide embraced the Baron and Pangloss a hundred times. “And so, then, my dear Baron, I did not kill you? And you, my dear Pangloss, how can you be alive after your hanging? And why are you slaves on board a Turkish galley?” “Is it true that my dear sister is in this country?” said the Baron. “Yes,” said Cacambo. “And do I once again see my dear Candide?” said Pangloss. Candide presented Martin and Cacambo to them. They embraced each other, and all spoke together. The galley flew, and already they were back in port. Candide instantly sent for a Jew, and for fifty thousand sequins sold him a diamond worth one hundred thousand, though the buyer swore to him by Father Abraham that he gave him the most he could possibly afford. Candide immediately ransomed the Baron and Pangloss. The latter flung himself at the feet of his deliverer, and bathed him with his tears. The former thanked him with a gracious nod, and promised to return the money at the first opportunity. “But is it possible?” said he, “that my sister is in Turkey?” “Nothing is more possible,” answered Cacambo, “since she is the dishwasher in the house of a Transylvanian prince.” Candide sent for two Jews, and sold more diamonds to them. And then he set out with his companions in another galley, to free Miss Cunégonde from slavery.
XXVIII
What happened to Candide, Cunégonde, Pangloss, Martin, etc.
“Pardon me,” said Candide to the Baron; “once more let me beg your pardon, reverend father, for having run you through the body with my sword.” “Say no more about it,” replied the Baron; “I was a little too hasty, I admit. But as you seem to want to know how I came to be a slave on board the galley where you saw me, I will tell you. After I had been cured of the wound you gave me by the college apothecary, I was attacked and carried off by a party of Spanish troops, who put me in prison in Buenos Ayres, at the very time my sister was leaving there. I asked permission to return to Rome, from the general of my order. He instead appointed me chaplain to the French ambassador at Constantinople. I had not been a week in my new office when I happened to meet one evening a young Icoglan, ck who was extremely handsome and well made. The weather was very hot; the young man wanted to swim. I took the opportunity to swim with him. I did not know it was a crime for a Christian to be found naked with a young Turk. A cadi sentenced me to receive a hundred blows on the soles of my feet, and sent me to the galleys. I do not believe there was ever an act of more flagrant injustice. But I would like to know how my sister came to be a kitchen maid to a Transylvanian prince who had taken refuge among the Turks.”
“But you, my dear Pangloss,” said Candide. “How is it possible that I see you again?” “It is true,” answered Pangloss, “you saw me hanged, though I should have been burnt; but you may remember that it rained extremely hard when they were going to roast me. The storm was so violent that they found it impossible to light the fire, so they hanged me because they could do no better. A surgeon purchased my body, carried it home, and prepared to dissect me. He began by making a crucial incision from my navel to the clavicle. It is imp
ossible for any one to have been more lamely hanged than I had been. The executioner of the holy Inquisition was a subdeacon, and knew how to burn people very well; but as for hanging, he was a novice; the rope was wet and not slipping properly, and the noose did not join. In short, I was still breathing; the crucial incision made me scream to such a degree that my surgeon fell flat upon his back; and imagining that it was the devil he was dissecting, he ran away, and in his fright tumbled downstairs. His wife, hearing the noise, ran in from the next room, and seeing me stretched upon the table with my crucial incision, was more terrified than her husband, fled and fell over him. When they had recovered a little, I heard her say to her husband, ‘My dear, how could you think of dissecting a heretic? Don’t you know that the devil is always in them? I’ll go directly to get a priest to come and drive the evil spirit out.’ I trembled from head to foot at hearing her talk in this manner, and I exerted what little strength I had left to cry out, ‘Have mercy on me!’ At length the Portuguese barbercl took courage, sewed up my wound, and his wife nursed me: and I was back on my feet in two week’s time. The barber got me a job as a lackey to a Knight of Malta,cm who was going to Venice; but finding my master had no money to pay me my wages, I entered into the service of a Venetian merchant, and went with him to Constantinople.
“One day I happened to enter a mosque, where I saw no one but an old imamcn and a very pretty young female worshipper, who was saying her prayers; her neck was quite bare, and between her two breasts she had a beautiful bouquet of tulips, roses, anemones, ranunculuses, hyacinths, and auriculas; she dropped her bouquet. I picked it up and presented it to her with the most respectful bow. I was so long in putting it back in place that the imam began to be angry, and seeing that I was a Christian, he cried out for help; they carried me before the Cadi, who ordered me to receive one hundred blows on the soles of my feet and sent me to the galleys. I was chained in the very galley and to the very same bench with the Baron. On board this galley there were four young men from Marseilles, five Neapolitan priests, and two monks of Corfu, who told us that these kinds of adventures happened every day. The Baron claimed that he had suffered a greater injustice than I; and insisted that there was far less harm in picking up a bouquet and putting it into a young woman’s bosom, than in being found stark naked with a young Icoglan. We were continually whipped, and received twenty lashes a day with a bullwhip, when the chain of events within this universe brought you on board our galley to ransom us from slavery.”