CHAPTER XXVI
How Candide and Martin Supped With Six Singers and Who They Were
One evening when Candide and Martin were going to sit down to table with the strangers who lodged in the same hotel, a man with a face the color of soot came up to him from behind and, taking him by the arm, said: “Get ready to come with us, and do not fail.” He turned round and saw Cacambo. Only the sight of Cunegonde could have surprised and pleased him more. He was almost wild with joy. He embraced his dear friend. “Cunegonde is here, of course? Where is she? Take me to her, let me die of joy with her.” “Cunegonde is not here,” said Cacambo. “She is in Constantinople.” “Heavensl In Constantinople! But, were she in China, I would fly to her; let us start at once.” “We will start after supper,” replied Cacambo. “I cannot tell you any more; I am a slave, and my master is waiting for me; I must go and serve him at table! Do not say anything; eat your supper, and be in readiness.” Candide, torn between joy and grief, charmed to see his faithful agent again, amazed to see him a slave, filled with the idea of seeing his mistress again, with turmoil in his heart, agitation in his mind, sat down to table with Martin (who met every strange occurrence with the same calmness), and with six strangers, who had come to spend the Carnival at Venice. Cacambo, who acted as butler to one of the strangers, bent down to his master’s head toward the end of the meal and said: “Sire, your Majesty can leave when you wish, the ship is ready.” After saying this, Cacambo withdrew. The guests looked at each other with surprise without saying a word, when another servant came up to his master and said: “Sire, your Majesty’s post-chaise is at Padua, and the boat is ready.” The master made a sign and the servant departed. Once more all the guests looked at each other, and the general surprise was increased twofold. A third servant went up to the third stranger and said: “Sire, believe me, your Majesty cannot remain here any longer; I will prepare everything.” And he immediately disappeared. Candide and Martin had no doubt that this was a Carnival masquerade. A fourth servant said to the fourth master: “Your Majesty can leave when you wish.” And he went out like the others. The fifth servant spoke similarly to the fifth master. But the sixth servant spoke differently to the sixth stranger who was next to Candide, and said: “Faith, sire, they will not give your Majesty any more credit nor me either, and we may very likely be jailed tonight, both of us; I am going to look to my own affairs, good-by.” When the servants had all gone, the six strangers. Candide and Martin remained in profound silence. At last it was broken by Candide. “Gentlemen,” said he, “this is a curious jest. How is it you are all kings? I confess that neither Martin nor I are kings.” Cacambo’s master then gravely spoke and said in Italian: “I am not jesting, my name is Achmet III. For several years I was Sultan; I dethroned my brother; my nephew dethroned me; they cut off the heads of my viziers; I am ending my days in the old seraglio; my nephew, Sultan Mahmoud, sometimes allows me to travel for my health, and I have come to spend the Carnival at Venice.” A young man who sat next to Achmet spoke after him and said: “My name is Ivan; I was Emperor of all the Russias; I was dethroned in my cradle; my father and mother were imprisoned and I was brought up in prison; I sometimes have permission to travel, accompanied by those who guard me, and I have come to spend the Carnival at Venice.” The third said: “I am Charles Edward, King of England; my father gave up his rights to the throne to me and I fought a war to assert them; the hearts of eight hundred of my adherents were torn out and dashed in their faces. I have been in prison; I am going to Rome to visit the King, my father, who is dethroned like my grandfather and me; and I have come to spend the Carnival at Venice.” The fourth then spoke and said: “I am the King of Poland; the chance of war deprived me of my hereditary states; my father endured the same reverse of fortune; I am resigned to Providence like the Sultan Achmet, the Emperor Ivan and King Charles Edward, to whom God grant long life; and I have come to spend the Carnival at Venice.” The fifth said: “I also am the King of Poland; I have lost my kingdom twice; but Providence has given me another state in which I have been able to do more good than all the kings of the Sarmatians together have been ever able to do on the banks of the Vistula; I also am resigned to Providence and I have come to spend the Carnival at Venice.” It was now for the sixth monarch to speak. “Gentlemen,” said he, “I am not so eminent as you; but I have been a king like anyone else. I am Theodore; I was elected King of Corsica; I have been called Your Majesty and now I am barely called Sir. I have coined money and do not own a farthing; I have had two Secretaries of State and now have scarcely a valet; I have occupied a throne and for a long time lay on straw in a London prison. I am much afraid I shall be treated in the same way here, although I have come, like your Majesties, to spend the Carnival at Venice.” The five other kings listened to this speech with a noble compassion. Each of them gave King Theodore twenty sequins to buy clothes and shirts; Candide presented him with a diamond worth two thousand sequins. “Who is this man,” said the five kings, “who is able to give a hundred times as much as any of us, and who gives it?” As they were leaving the table, there came to the same hotel four serene highnesses who had also lost their states in the chance of war, and who had come to spend the rest of the Carnival at Venice; but Candide did not even notice these newcomers, he could think of nothing but of going to Constantinople to find his dear Cunegonde.
CHAPTER XXVII
Candide’s Voyage to Constantinople
The faithful Cacambo had already spoken to the Turkish captain who was to take Sultan Achmet back to Constantinople and had obtained permission for Candide and Martin to come on board. They both entered this ship after having prostrated themselves before his miserable Highness. On the way, Candide said to Martin: “So we have just supped with six dethroned kings! And among those six kings there was one to whom I gave charity. Perhaps there are many other princes still more unfortunate. Now, I have only lost a hundred sheep and I am hastening to Cunegonde’s arms. My dear Martin, once more, Pangloss was right, all is well.” “I hope so,” said Martin. “But,” said Candide, “this is a very singular experience we have just had at Venice. Nobody has ever seen or heard of six dethroned kings supping together in a tavern.” “‘Tis no more extraordinary,” said Martin, “than most of the things which have happened to us. It is very common for kings to be dethroned; and as to the honor we have had of supping with them, ’tis a trifle not deserving our attention.” Scarcely had Candide entered the ship when he threw his arms round the neck of his old valet, of his friend Cacambo. “Well!” said he, “what is Cunegonde doing? Is she still a marvel of beauty? Does she still love me? How is she? Of course you have bought her a palace in Constantinople?” “My dear master,” replied Cacambo, “Cunegonde is washing dishes on the banks of Propontis for a prince who possesses very few dishes; she is a slave in the house of a former sovereign named Ragotsky, who receives in his refuge three crowns a day from the Grand Turk; but what is even more sad is that she has lost her beauty and has become horribly ugly.” “Ah! beautiful or ugly,” said Candide, “I am a man of honor and my duty is to love her always. But how can she be reduced to so abject a condition with the five or six millions you carried off?” “Ah!” said Cacambo, “did I not have to give two millions to Senor Don Fernando d’Ibaraa y Figueora y Mascarenes y Lampourdos y Souza, Governor of Buenos Aires, for permission to bring away Mademoiselle Cunegonde? And did not a pirate bravely strip us of all the rest? And did not this pirate take us to Cape Matapan, to Milo, to Nicaria, to Samos, to Petra, to the Dardanelles, to Marmora, to Scutari? Cunegonde and the old woman are servants to the prince I mentioned, and I am slave to the dethroned Sultan.” “What a chain of terrible calamities!” said Candide. “But after all, I still have a few diamonds; I shall easily deliver Cunegonde. What a pity she has become so ugly.” Then, turning to Martin, he said: “Who do you think is the most to be pitied, the Sultan Achmet, the Emperor Ivan, King Charles Edward, or me?” “I do not know at all,” said Martin. “I should have to be in y
our hearts to know.” “Ah!” said Candide, “if Pangloss were here he would know and would tell us.” “I do not know,” said Martin, “what scales your Pangloss would use to weigh the misfortunes of men and to estimate their sufferings. All I presume is that there are millions of men on the earth a hundred times more to be pitied than King Charles Edward, the Emperor Ivan and the Sultan Achmet.” “That may very well be,” said Candide. In a few days they reached the Black Sea channel. Candide began by paying a high ransom for Cacambo and, without wasting time, he went on board a galley with his companions bound for the shores of Propontis, in order to find Cunegonde however ugly she might be. Among the galley-slaves were two convicts who rowed very badly and from time to time the Levantine captain applied several strokes of a bull’s pizzle to their naked shoulders. From a natural feeling of pity Candide watched them more attentively than the other galley-slaves and went up to them. Some features of their disfigured faces appeared to him to have some resemblance to Pangloss and the wretched Jesuit, the Baron, Mademoiselle Cunegonde’s brother. This idea disturbed and saddened him. He looked at them still more carefully. “Truly,” said he to Cacambo, “if I had not seen Dr. Pangloss hanged, and if I had not been so unfortunate as to kill the Baron, I should think they were rowing in this galley.” At the words Baron and Pangloss, the two convicts gave a loud cry, stopped on their seats and dropped their oars. The Levantine captain ran up to them and the lashes with the bull’s pizzle were redoubled. “Stop! Stop, sirl” cried Candide. “I will give you as much money as you want.” “What! Is it Candide?” said one of the convicts. “What! Is it Candide?” said the other. “Is it a dream?” said Candide. “Am I awake? Am I in this galley? Is that my Lord the Baron whom I killed? Is that Dr. Pangloss whom I saw hanged?” “It is, it is,” they replied. “What! Is that the great philosopher?” said Martin. “Ah! sir,” said Candide to the Levantine captain, “how much money do you want for My Lord Thunder-ten-tronckh, one of the first Barons of the empire, and for Dr. Pangloss, the most profound metaphysician of Germany?” “Dog of a Christian,” replied the Levantine captain, “since these two dogs of Christian convicts are Barons and metaphysicians, which no doubt is a high rank in their country, you shall pay me fifty thousand sequins.” “You shall have them, sir. Row back to Constantinople like lightning and you shall be paid at once. But, no, take me to Mademoiselle Cunegonde.” The captain, at Candide’s first offer had already turned the bow toward the town, and rowed there more swiftly than a bird cleaves the air. Candide embraced the Baron and Pangloss a hundred times. “How was it I did not kill you, my dear Baron? And, my dear Pangloss, how do you happen to be alive after having been hanged? And why are you both in a Turkish galley?” “Is it really true that my dear sister is in this country?” said the Baron. “Yes,” replied Cacambo. “So once more I see my dear Candide!” cried Pangloss. Candide introduced Martin and Cacambo. They all embraced and all. talked at the same time. The galley flew; already they were in the harbor. They sent for a Jew, and Candide sold him for fifty thousand sequins a diamond worth a hundred thousand, for which he swore by Abraham he could not give any more. The ransom of the Baron and Pangloss was immediately paid. Pangloss threw himself at the feet of his liberator and bathed them with tears; the other thanked him with a nod and promised to repay the money at the first opportunity. “But is it possible that my sister is in Turkey?” said he. “Nothing is so possible,” replied Cacambo, “since she washes up the dishes of a prince of Transylvania.” They immediately sent for two Jews; Candide sold some more diamonds; and they all set out in another galley to rescue Cunegonde.
The Portable Voltaire (Portable Library) Page 29