CHAPTER XII
Continuation of the Old Woman’s Misfortunes
“Amazed and delighted to hear my native language, and not less surprised at the words spoken by this man, I replied that there were greater misfortunes than that of which he complained. In a few words I informed him of the horrors I had undergone and then swooned again. He carried me to a neighboring house, had me put to bed, gave me food, waited on me, consoled me, flattered me, told me he had never seen anyone so beautiful as I, and that he had never so much regretted that which no one could give back to him. ‘I was born at Naples,’ he said, ‘and every year they make two or three thousand children there into capons; some die of it, others acquire voices more beautiful than women’s, and others become the governors of States. This operation was performed upon me with very great success and I was a musician in the chapel of the Princess of Palestrina.’ ‘Of my mother,’ I exclaimed. ‘Of your mother!’ cried he, weeping. ‘What! Are you that young princess I brought up to the age of six and who even then gave promise of being as beautiful as you are?’ ‘I am! my mother is four hundred yards from here, cut into quarters under a heap of corpses . . .’ I related all that had happened to me; he also told me his adventures and informed me how he had been sent to the King of Morocco by a Christian power to make a treaty with that monarch whereby he was supplied with powder, cannons, and ships to help to exterminate the commerce of other Christians. ‘My mission is accomplished,’ said this honest eunuch, ‘I am about to embark at Ceuta and I will take you back to Italy. Ma che sciagura d‘essere senza coglionil’ I thanked him with tears of gratitude; and instead of taking me back to Italy he conducted me to Algiers and sold me to the Dey. I had scarcely been sold when the plague which had gone through Africa, Asia and Europe, broke out furiously in Algiers. You have seen earthquakes; but have you ever seen the plague?” “Never,” replied the Baroness. “If you had,” replied the old woman, “you would admit that it is much worse than an earthquake. It is very common in Africa; I caught it. Imagine the situation of a Pope’s daughter aged fifteen, who in three months had undergone poverty and slavery, had been raped nearly every day, had seen her mother cut into four pieces, had undergone hunger and war, and was now dying of the plague in Algiers. However, I did not die; but my eunuch and the Dey and almost all the seraglio of Algiers perished. When the first ravages of this frightful plague were over, the Dey’s slaves were sold. A merchant bought me and carried me to Tunis; he sold me to another merchant who resold me at Tripoli; from Tripoli I was resold to Alexandria, from Alexandria resold to Smyrna, from Smyrna to Constantinople. I was finally bought by an Aga of the Janizaries, who was soon ordered to defend Azov against the Russians who were besieging it. The Aga, who was a man of great gallantry, took his whole seraglio with him, and lodged us in a little fort on the Islands of Palus-Maeotis, guarded by two black eunuchs and twenty soldiers. He killed a prodigious number of Russians but they returned the compliment as well. Azov was given up to fire and blood, neither sex nor age was pardoned; only our little fort remained; and the enemy tried to reduce it by starving us. The twenty Janizaries had sworn never to surrender us. The extremities of hunger to which they were reduced forced them to eat our two eunuchs for fear of breaking their oaths. Some days later they resolved to eat the women. We had with us a most pious and compassionate Imam who delivered a fine sermon to them by which he persuaded them not to kill us altogether. ‘Cut,’ said he, ‘only one buttock from each of these ladies and you will make very good cheer; if you have to return, there will still be as much left in a few days; Heaven will be pleased at so charitable an action and you will be saved: He was very eloquent and persuaded them. This horrible operation was performed upon us; the Imam anointed us with the same balm that is used for children who have just been circumcized; we were all at the point of death. Scarcely had the Janizaries finished the meal we had supplied when the Russians arrived in flat-bottomed boats; not a Janizary escaped. The Russians paid no attention to the state we were in. There are French doctors everywhere; one of them who was very skillful took care of us; he healed us and I shall remember all my life that, when my wounds were cured, he made propositions to me. For the rest, he told us all to cheer up; he told us that the same thing had happened in several sieges and that it was a law of war. As soon as my companions could walk they were sent to Moscow. I fell to the lot of a Boyar who made me his gardener and gave me twenty lashes a day. But at the end of two years this lord was broken on the wheel with thirty other Boyars owing to some court disturbance, and I profited by this adventure; I fled; I crossed all Russia; for a long time I was servant in an inn at Riga, then at Rostock, at Wismar, at Leipzig, at Cassel, at Utrecht, at Leyden, at The Hague, at Rotterdam; I have grown old in misery and in shame, with only half a backside, always remembering that I was the daughter of a Pope; a hundred times I wanted to kill myself but I still loved life. This ridiculous weakness is perhaps the most disastrous of our inclinations; for is there anything sillier than to desire to bear continually a burden one always wishes to throw on the ground; to look upon oneself with horror and yet to cling to oneself; in short, to caress the serpent which devours us until he has eaten our heart? In the countries it has been my fate to traverse and in the inns where I have served I have seen a prodigious number of people who hated their lives; but I have only seen twelve who voluntarily put an end to their misery: three Negroes, four Englishmen, four Genevans and a German professor named Robeck. I ended up as servant to the Jew, Don Issachar; he placed me in your service, my fair young lady; I attached myself to your fate and have been more occupied with your adventures than with my own. I should never even have spoken of my misfortunes, if you had not piqued me a little and if it had not been the custom on board ship to tell stories to pass the time. In short, Mademoiselle, I have had experience, I know the world; provide yourself with an entertainment, make each passenger tell you his story; and if there is one who has not often cursed his life, who has not often said to himself that he was the most unfortunate of men, throw me head-first into the sea.”
CHAPTER XIII
How Candide Was Obliged to Separate from the Fair Cunegonde and the Old Woman
The fair Cunegonde, having heard the old woman’s story, treated her with all the politeness due to a person of her rank and merit. She accepted the proposition and persuaded all the passengers one after the other to tell her their adventures. She and Candide admitted that the old woman was right. “It was most unfortunate,” said Candide, “that the wise Pangloss was hanged contrary to custom at an auto-da-fé; he would have said admirable things about the physical and moral evils which cover the earth and the sea, and I should feel myself strong enough to urge a few objections with all due respect.” While each of the passengers was telling his story the ship proceeded on its way. They arrived at Buenos Aires. Cunegonde, Captain Candide and the old woman went to call on the governor, Don Fernando d‘Ibaraa y Figueora y Mascarenes y Lampourdos y Souza. This gentleman had the pride befitting a man who owned so many names. He talked to men with a most noble disdain, turning his nose up so far, raising his voice so pitilessly, assuming so imposing a tone, affecting so lofty a carriage, that all who addressed him were tempted to give him a thrashing. He had a furious passion for women. Cunegonde seemed to him the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. The first thing he did was to ask if she were the Captain’s wife. The air with which he asked this question alarmed Candide; he did not dare say that she was his wife, because as a matter of fact she was not; he dared not say she was his sister, because she was not that either; and though this official lie was formerly extremely fashionable among the ancients, and might be useful to the modems, his soul was too pure to depart from truth. “Mademoiselle Cunegonde,” said he, “is about to do me the honor of marrying me, and we beg your excellency to be present at the wedding.” Don Fernando d’Ibaraa y Figuerora y Mascarenes y Lampourdos y Souza twisted his mustache, smiled bitterly, and ordered Captain Candide to go and inspect his comp
any. Candide obeyed; the governor remained with Mademoiselle Cunegonde. He declared his passion, vowed that the next day he would marry her publicly, or otherwise, as it might please her charms. Cunegonde asked for a quarter of an hour to collect herself, to consult the old woman and to make up her mind. The old woman said to Cunegonde: “You have seventy-two quarterings and you haven’t a shilling; it is in your power to be the wife of the greatest Lord in South America, who has an exceedingly fine mustache; is it for you to pride yourself on a rigid fidelity? You have been raped by Bulgarians, a Jew and an Inquisitor have enjoyed your good graces; misfortunes confer certain rights. If I were in your place, I confess I should not have the least scruple in marrying the governor and making Captain Candide’s fortune.” While the old woman was speaking with all that prudence which comes from age and experience, they saw a small ship come into the harbor; an Alcayde and some Alguazils were on board, and this is what had happened. The old woman had guessed correctly that it was a longsleeved monk who stole Cunegonde’s money and jewels at Badajoz, when she was flying in all haste with Candide. The monk tried to sell some of the gems to a jeweler. The merchant recognized them as the property of the Grand Inquisitor. Before the monk was hanged he confessed that he had stolen them; he described the persons and the direction they were taking. The flight of Cunegonde and Candide was already known. They were followed to Cadiz; without any waste of time a vessel was sent in pursuit of them. The vessel was already in the harbor at Buenos Aires. The rumor spread that an Alcayde was about to land and that he was in pursuit of the murderers of His Lordship the Grand Inquisitor. The prudent old woman saw in a moment what was to be done. “You cannot escape,” she said to Cunegonde, “and you have nothing to fear; you did not kill His Lordship; moreover, the governor is in love with you and will not allow you to be maltreated; stay here.” She ran to Candide at once. “Fly,” said she, “or in an, hour’s time you will be burned.” There was not a moment to lose; but how could he leave Cunegonde and where could he take refuge?
CHAPTER XIV
How Candide and Cacambo Were Received by the jesuits in Paraguay
Candide had brought from Cadiz a valet of a sort which is very common on the coasts of Spain and in colonies. He was one-quarter Spanish, the child of a half-breed in Tucuman; he had been a choir-boy, a sacristan, a sailor, a monk, a postman, a soldier and a lackey. His name was Cacambo and he loved his master because his master was a very good man. He saddled the two Andalusian horses with all speed. “Come, master, we must follow the old woman’s advice; let us be off and ride without looking behind us.” Candide shed tears. “0 my dear Cunegondel Must I abandon you just when the governor was about to marry us! Cunegonde, brought here from such a distant land, what will become of you?” “She will become what she can,” said Cacambo. “Women never trouble about themselves; God will see to her; let us be off.” “Where are you taking me? Where are we going? What shall we do without Cunegonde?” said Candide. “By St. James of Compostella,” said Cacambo, “you were going to fight the Jesuits; let us go and fight for them; I know the roads, I will take you to their kingdom, they will be charmed to have a captain who can drill in the Bulgarian fashion; you will make a prodigious fortune; when a man fails in one world, he succeeds in another. ‘Tis a very great pleasure to see and do new things.” “Then you have been in Paraguay?” said Candide. “Yes, indeed,” said Cacambo. “I was servitor in the College of the Assumption, and I know the government of Los Padres as well as I know the streets of Cadiz. Their government is a most admirable thing. The kingdom is already more than three hundred leagues in diameter and is divided into thirty provinces. Los Padres have everything and the people have nothing; ’tis the masterpiece of reason and justice. For my part, I know nothing so divine as Los Padres who here make war on the Kings of Spain and Portugal and in Europe act as their confessors; who here kill Spaniards and at Madrid send them to Heaven; all this delights me; come on; you will be the happiest of men. What a pleasure it will be to Los Padres when they know there is coming to them a captain who can drill in the Bulgarian manner!” As soon as they reached the first barrier, Cacambo told the picket that a captain wished to speak to the Commandant. This information was carried to the main guard. A Paraguayan officer ran to the feet of the Commandant to tell him the news. Candide and Cacambo were disarmed and their two Andalusian horses were taken from them. The two strangers were brought in between two ranks of soldiers; the Commandant was at the end, with a three-cornered hat on his head, his gown tucked up, a sword at his side and a spontoon in his hand. He made a sign and immediately the two newcomers were surrounded by twenty-four soldiers. A sergeant told them that they must wait, that the Commandant could not speak to them, that the reverend provincial father did not allow any Spaniard to open his mouth in his presence or to remain more than three hours in the country. “And where is the reverend provincial father?” said Cacambo. “He is on parade after having said Mass, and you will have to wait three hours before you will be allowed to kiss his spurs.” “But,” said Cacambo, “the captain who is dying of hunger just as I am, is not a Spaniard but a German; can we not break our fast while we are waiting for his reverence?” The sergeant went at once to inform the Commandant of this. “Blessed be God!” said that lord. “Since he is a German I can speak to him; bring him to my arbor.” Candide was immediately taken to a leafy summer-house decorated with a very pretty colonnade of green marble and gold, and lattices enclosing parrots, hummingbirds, colibris, guinea-hens and many other rare birds. An excellent breakfast stood ready in gold dishes; and while the Paraguayans were eating maize from wooden bowls, out of doors and in the heat of the sun, the reverend father Commandant entered the arbor. He was a very handsome young man, with a full face, a fairly white skin, red cheeks, arched eyebrows, keen eyes, red ears, vermilion lips, a haughty air, but a haughtiness which was neither that of a Spaniard nor of a Jesuit. Candide and Cacambo were given back the arms which had been taken from them and their two Andalusian. horses; Cacambo fed them with oats near the arbor, and kept his eye on them for fear of a surprise. Candide first kissed the hem of the Commandant’s gown and then they sat down to table. “So you are a German?” said the Jesuit in that language. “Yes, reverend father,” said Candide. As they spoke these words they gazed at each other with extreme surprise and an emotion they could not control. “And what part of Germany do you come from?” said the Jesuit. “From the filthy province of Westphalia,” said Candide; “I was born in the castle of Thunder-ten-tronckh.” “Heavens! Is it possiblel” cried the Commandant. “What a miracle!” cried Candide. “Can it be you?” said the Commandant. “ ’Tis impossible!” said Candide. They both fell over backwards, embraced and shed rivers of tears. “What! Can it be you, reverend father? You, the fair Cunegonde’s brother! You, who were killed by the Bulgarians! You, the son of My Lord the Baron! You, a Jesuit in Paraguayl The world is indeed a strange place! 0 Pangloss! Panglossl How happy you would have been if you had not been hangedl” The Commandant sent away the Negro slaves and the Paraguayans who were serving wine in goblets of rock-crystal. A thousand times did he thank God and St. Ignatius; he clasped Candide in his arms; their faces were wet with tears. “You would be still more surprised, more touched, more beside yourself,” said Candide, “if I were to tell you that Mademoiselle Cunegonde, your sister, whom you thought disemboweled, is in the best of health.” “Where?” “In your neighborhood, with the governor of Buenos Aires; and I came to make war on you.” Every word they spoke in this long conversation piled marvel on marvel. Their whole souls flew from their tongues, listened in their ears and sparkled in their eyes. As they were Germans, they sat at table for a long time, waiting for the reverend provincial father; and the Commandant spoke as follows to his dear Candide.
The Portable Voltaire (Portable Library) Page 24