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In these habits they marched in procession and heard a very pathetic sermon, which was followed by an anthem accompanied by bagpipes. Candide was flogged to some tune while the anthem was being sung; the Biscayan and the two men who would not eat bacon were burned, and Pangloss was hanged, which is not a common custom at these solemnities. The same day there was another earthquake, which made most dreadful havoc.

Candide, amazed, terrified, confounded, astonished, all bloody, and trembling from head to foot, said to himself, AIf this is the best of all possible worlds, what are the others like? If I had only been whipped, I could have put up with it, as I did among the Bulgarians; but, not withstanding, oh my dear Pangloss! my beloved master! oh greatest of philosophers! was it necessary that I should live to see you hanged, without knowing the reason? O my dear Anabaptist, best of men, was it necessary that you should be drowned in the harbor? O Cunégonde, you mirror of young ladies! was it ncessary that you should have your belly ripped [email protected]

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He was making the best of his way from the place where he had been preached to, whipped, absolved and blessed, when he was accosted by an old woman, who said to him, ATake courage, child, and follow [email protected]

Chapter 7 – How the Old Woman Took Care Of Candide, and How He Found the Object of His Love

Candide followed the old woman, though without taking courage, to a decayed house, where she gave him a pot of pomatum to anoint his sores, showed him a very neat bed with a suit of clothes hanging by it; and set food and drink before him.

AThere,@ said she, Aeat, drink, and sleep, and may Our Lady of Atocha, and the great St. Anthony of Padua, and the illustrious St. James of Compostella, take you under their protection. I shall be back [email protected]

Candide, struck with amazement at what he had seen, at what he had suffered, and still more at the charity of the old woman, would have shown his acknowledgment by kissing her hand.

AIt is not my hand you ought to kiss,@ said the old woman. AI shall be back tomorrow. Anoint your back, eat, and take your [email protected]

Candide, notwithstanding so many disasters, ate and slept. The next morning, the old woman brought him his breakfast; examined his back, and rubbed it herself with another ointment. She returned at the proper time, and brought him his dinner; and at night, she visited him again with his supper. The next day she observed the same ceremonies.

AWho are [email protected] said Candide to her. AWho has inspired you with so much goodness? What return can I make you for this charitable [email protected]

The good old beldame kept a profound silence. In the evening she returned, but without his supper.

ACome along with me,@ said she, Abut do not speak a [email protected]

She took him by the arm, and walked with him about a quarter of a mile into the country, till they came to a lonely house surrounded with moats and gardens. The old conductress knocked at a little door, which was immediately opened, and she showed him up a pair of back stairs, into a small, but richly furnished apartment. There she made him sit down on a brocaded sofa, shut the door upon him, and left him. Candide thought himself in a trance; he looked upon his whole life, hitherto, as a frightful dream, and the present moment as a very agreeable one.

The old woman soon returned, supporting, with great difficulty, a young lady, who appeared scarce able to stand. She was of a majestic appearance and stature, her dress was rich, and glittering with diamonds, and her face was covered with a veil.

ATake off that veil,@ said the old woman to Candide.

The young man approached, and, with a trembling hand, took off her veil. What a happy moment! What surprise! He thought he beheld Cunégonde; he did behold herBit was she herself. His strength failed him, he could not utter a word, he fell at her feet. Cunégonde fainted upon the sofa. The old woman bedewed them with spirits; they recovered; they began to speak. At first they could express themselves only in broken accents; their questions and answers were alternately interrupted with sighs, tears, and exclamations. The old woman desired them to make less noise, and after this prudent admonition left them together.

AGood [email protected] cried Candide, Ais it you? Is it Cunégonde I behold, and alive? Do I find you again in Portugal? then you have not been raped? they did not rip open your body, as the philosopher

Pangloss informed [email protected]

AIndeed but they did,@ replied Cunégonde; Abut these two accidents do not always prove [email protected]

ABut were your father and mother [email protected]

[email protected] answered she, Ait is but too [email protected] and she wept.

AAnd your [email protected]

AAnd my brother [email protected]

AAnd how came you into Portugal? And how did you know of my being here? And by what strange adventure did you contrive to have me brought into this house? And [email protected]

@I will tell you all,@ replied the lady, Abut first you must acquaint me with all that has befallen you since the innocent kiss you gave me, and the rude kicking you received in consequence of [email protected]

Candide, with the greatest submission, prepared to obey the commands of his fair mistress; and though he was still filled with amazement, though his voice was low and tremulous, though his back pained him, yet he gave her a simple account of everything that had befallen him since the moment of their separation. Cunégonde, with her eyes uplifted to heaven, shed tears when he related the death of the good Anabaptist, Jacques, 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.

Chapter 8 – Cunégonde’s Story

I was in bed, and fast asleep, when it pleased Heaven 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, perceiving that I had fainted away at this sight, attempted to rape me; the operation brought me to my senses. I cried, I struggled, I bit, I scratched, I would have torn the tall Bulgarian’s eyes out, not knowing that what was happening at my father’s castle was nothing out of the ordinary. The brutal soldier, enraged at my resistance, gave me a wound in my left leg with his hanger, the mark of which I still [email protected]

AI would really like to see it,@ said Candide, with all imaginable simplicity. AYou shall,@ said Cunégonde, Abut let me [email protected] APray do,@ replied Candide.

She continued. AA Bulgarian captain came in, and saw me weltering in my blood, and the soldier still as busy as if no one had been present. The officer, enraged that the fellow did not come to attention, killed him with one stroke of his saber as he lay upon me. 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 possessed, and cooked his food: he was very fond of me, that was certain; neither can I deny that he was well made, and had a soft white skin, but he was very stupid and knew nothing of philosophy: it might plainly be perceived that he had not been educated under Dr. Pangloss. In three months, having gambled away all his money, and having grown 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 of gaining my favors; but he never could prevail on me to yield. A modest woman may have been raped; but her virtue is only greatly strengthened by the experience. In order to make sure of me, he brought me to this country house you now see. I had hitherto believed that nothing could equal the beauty of the castle of Thunder-ten-tronckh; but I found I was mistaken.

AThe Grand Inquisitor saw me one day at Mass, ogled me all the time of service, and when it was over, sent a messenger to let me know he wanted to speak with me about some private business. I was conducted to his palace, where I told him all my story; he represented to me how much it was beneath a person of my birth to belong to someone who was circumcised. He caused a proposal to be made to Don Issachar, that he should resign me to His Lordship. Don Issachar, being the court banker and a man of credit, was not easy to be prevailed upon. His Lordship threatened him with an auto-da-fé and my Jew was frightened into a compromise; it was agreed between them, that the house and myself should belong to both in common; 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 subsisted almost six months; but not without several debates about whether the space from Saturday night to Sunday morning belonged to the old or the new law. For my part, I have hitherto withstood them both, and truly I believe this is the very reason why they are both so fond of me.

AAt length to turn aside the scourge of earthquakes and to intimidate Don Issachar, My Lord Inquisitor was pleased to celebrate an auto-da-fé. He did me the honor to invite 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 Biscayan 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 miter! I rubbed my eyes, I looked at him attentively. I saw him hanged and I fainted away: scarce had I recovered my senses, when I saw you stripped of clothing; this was the height of horror, grief, and despair. I must confess to you for a truth, that your skin is whiter and more blooming 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 signified nothing. After you had been severely whipped, I said to myself, >How is it possible that the lovely Candide and the wise Pangloss should be at Lisbon, the one to receive a hundred lashes, and the other to be hanged by order of My Lord Inquisitor, of whom I am so great a favorite? Pangloss deceived me most cruelly, in saying that everything is for the best.=

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