Chapter: The beautiful Cunegonde having heard the old woman's history, paid her
all the civilities due to a person of her rank and merit. She likewise
accepted her proposal, and engaged all the passengers, one after the
other, to relate their adventures; and then both she and Candide allowed
that the old woman was in the right.

"It is a great pity," said Candide, "that the sage Pangloss was hanged
contrary to custom at an _auto-da-fe_; he would tell us most amazing
things in regard to the physical and moral evils that overspread earth
and sea, and I should be able, with due respect, to make a few
objections."

While each passenger was recounting his story, the ship made her way.
They landed at Buenos Ayres. Cunegonde, Captain Candide, and the old
woman, waited on the Governor, Don Fernando d'Ibaraa, y Figueora, y
Mascarenes, y Lampourdos, y Souza. This nobleman had a stateliness
becoming a person who bore so many names. He spoke to men with so noble
a disdain, carried his nose so loftily, raised his voice so
unmercifully, assumed so imperious an air, and stalked with such
intolerable pride, that those who saluted him were strongly inclined to
give him a good drubbing. Cunegonde appeared to him the most beautiful
he had ever met. The first thing he did was to ask whether she was not
the captain's wife. The manner in which he asked the question alarmed
Candide; he durst not say she was his wife, because indeed she was not;
neither durst he say she was his sister, because it was not so; and
although this obliging lie had been formerly much in favour among the
ancients, and although it could be useful to the moderns, his soul was
too pure to betray the truth.

"Miss Cunegonde," said he, "is to do me the honour to marry me, and we
beseech your excellency to deign to sanction our marriage."

Don Fernando d'Ibaraa, y Figueora, y Mascarenes, y Lampourdos, y Souza,
turning up his moustachios, smiled mockingly, and ordered Captain
Candide to go and review his company. Candide obeyed, and the Governor
remained alone with Miss Cunegonde. He declared his passion, protesting
he would marry her the next day in the face of the church, or otherwise,
just as should be agreeable to herself. Cunegonde asked a quarter of an
hour to consider of it, to consult the old woman, and to take her
resolution.

The old woman spoke thus to Cunegonde:

"Miss, you have seventy-two quarterings, and not a farthing; it is now
in your power to be wife to the greatest lord in South America, who has
very beautiful moustachios. Is it for you to pique yourself upon
inviolable fidelity? You have been ravished by Bulgarians; a Jew and an
Inquisitor have enjoyed your favours. Misfortune gives sufficient
excuse. I own, that if I were in your place, I should have no scruple in
marrying the Governor and in making the fortune of Captain Candide."

While the old woman spoke with all the prudence which age and experience
gave, a small ship entered the port on board of which were an Alcalde
and his alguazils, and this was what had happened.

As the old woman had shrewdly guessed, it was a Grey Friar who stole
Cunegonde's money and jewels in the town of Badajos, when she and
Candide were escaping. The Friar wanted to sell some of the diamonds to
a jeweller; the jeweller knew them to be the Grand Inquisitor's. The
Friar before he was hanged confessed he had stolen them. He described
the persons, and the route they had taken. The flight of Cunegonde and
Candide was already known. They were traced to Cadiz. A vessel was
immediately sent in pursuit of them. The vessel was already in the port
of Buenos Ayres. The report spread that the Alcalde was going to land,
and that he was in pursuit of the murderers of my lord the Grand
Inquisitor. The prudent old woman saw at once what was to be done.

"You cannot run away," said she to Cunegonde, "and you have nothing to
fear, for it was not you that killed my lord; besides the Governor who
loves you will not suffer you to be ill-treated; therefore stay."

She then ran immediately to Candide.

"Fly," said she, "or in an hour you will be burnt."

There was not a moment to lose; but how could he part from Cunegonde,
and where could he flee for shelter?




Candide had brought such a valet with him from Cadiz, as one often meets
with on the coasts of Spain and in the American colonies. He was a
quarter Spaniard, born of a mongrel in Tucuman; he had been singing-boy,
sacristan, sailor, monk, pedlar, soldier, and lackey. His name was
Cacambo, and he loved his master, because his master was a very good
man. He quickly saddled the two Andalusian horses.

"Come, master, let us follow the old woman's advice; let us start, and
run without looking behind us."

Candide shed tears.

"Oh! my dear Cunegonde! must I leave you just at a time when the
Governor was going to sanction our nuptials? Cunegonde, brought to such
a distance what will become of you?"

"She will do as well as she can," said Cacambo; "the women are never at
a loss, God provides for them, let us run."

"Whither art thou carrying me? Where shall we go? What shall we do
without Cunegonde?" said Candide.

"By St. James of Compostella," said Cacambo, "you were going to fight
against the Jesuits; let us go to fight for them; I know the road well,
I'll conduct you to their kingdom, where they will be charmed to have a
captain that understands the Bulgarian exercise. You'll make a
prodigious fortune; if we cannot find our account in one world we shall
in another. It is a great pleasure to see and do new things."

"You have before been in Paraguay, then?" said Candide.

"Ay, sure," answered Cacambo, "I was servant in the College of the
Assumption, and am acquainted with the government of the good Fathers as
well as I am with the streets of Cadiz. It is an admirable government.
The kingdom is upwards of three hundred leagues in diameter, and divided
into thirty provinces; there the Fathers possess all, and the people
nothing; it is a masterpiece of reason and justice. For my part I see
nothing so divine as the Fathers who here make war upon the kings of
Spain and Portugal, and in Europe confess those kings; who here kill
Spaniards, and in Madrid send them to heaven; this delights me, let us
push forward. You are going to be the happiest of mortals. What pleasure
will it be to those Fathers to hear that a captain who knows the
Bulgarian exercise has come to them!"

As soon as they reached the first barrier, Cacambo told the advanced
guard that a captain wanted to speak with my lord the Commandant. Notice
was given to the main guard, and immediately a Paraguayan officer ran
and laid himself at the feet of the Commandant, to impart this news to
him. Candide and Cacambo were disarmed, and their two Andalusian horses
seized. The strangers were introduced between two files of musketeers;
the Commandant was at the further end, with the three-cornered cap on
his head, his gown tucked up, a sword by his side, and a spontoon[15] in
his hand. He beckoned, and straightway the new-comers were encompassed
by four-and-twenty soldiers. A sergeant told them they must wait, that
the Commandant could not speak to them, and that the reverend Father
Provincial does not suffer any Spaniard to open his mouth but in his
presence, or to stay above three hours in the province.

"And where is the reverend Father Provincial?" said Cacambo.

"He is upon the parade just after celebrating mass," answered the
sergeant, "and you cannot kiss his spurs till three hours hence."

"However," said Cacambo, "the captain is not a Spaniard, but a German,
he is ready to perish with hunger as well as myself; cannot we have
something for breakfast, while we wait for his reverence?"

The sergeant went immediately to acquaint the Commandant with what he
had heard.

"God be praised!" said the reverend Commandant, "since he is a German, I
may speak to him; take him to my arbour."

Candide was at once conducted to a beautiful summer-house, ornamented
with a very pretty colonnade of green and gold marble, and with
trellises, enclosing parraquets, humming-birds, fly-birds, guinea-hens,
and all other rare birds. An excellent breakfast was provided in vessels
of gold; and while the Paraguayans were eating maize out of wooden
dishes, in the open fields and exposed to the heat of the sun, the
reverend Father Commandant retired to his arbour.

He was a very handsome young man, with a full face, white skin but high
in colour; he had an arched eyebrow, a lively eye, red ears, vermilion
lips, a bold air, but such a boldness as neither belonged to a Spaniard
nor a Jesuit. They returned their arms to Candide and Cacambo, and also
the two Andalusian horses; to whom Cacambo gave some oats to eat just by
the arbour, having an eye upon them all the while for fear of a
surprise.

Candide first kissed the hem of the Commandant's robe, then they sat
down to table.

"You are, then, a German?" said the Jesuit to him in that language.

"Yes, reverend Father," answered Candide.

As they pronounced these words they looked at each other with great
amazement, and with such an emotion as they could not conceal.

"And from what part of Germany do you come?" said the Jesuit.

"I am from the dirty province of Westphalia," answered Candide; "I was
born in the Castle of Thunder-ten-Tronckh."

"Oh! Heavens! is it possible?" cried the Commandant.

"What a miracle!" cried Candide.

"Is it really you?" said the Commandant.

"It is not possible!" said Candide.

They drew back; they embraced; they shed rivulets of tears.

"What, is it you, reverend Father? You, the brother of the fair
Cunegonde! You, that was slain by the Bulgarians! You, the Baron's son!
You, a Jesuit in Paraguay! I must confess this is a strange world that
we live in. Oh, Pangloss! Pangloss! how glad you would be if you had not
been hanged!"

The Commandant sent away the negro slaves and the Paraguayans, who
served them with liquors in goblets of rock-crystal. He thanked God and
St. Ignatius a thousand times; he clasped Candide in his arms; and their
faces were all bathed with tears.

"You will be more surprised, more affected, and transported," said
Candide, "when I tell you that Cunegonde, your sister, whom you believe
to have been ripped open, is in perfect health."

"Where?"

"In your neighbourhood, with the Governor of Buenos Ayres; and I was
going to fight against you."

Every word which they uttered in this long conversation but added wonder
to wonder. Their souls fluttered on their tongues, listened in their
ears, and sparkled in their eyes. As they were Germans, they sat a good
while at table, waiting for the reverend Father Provincial, and the
Commandant spoke to his dear Candide as follows.




"I shall have ever present to my memory the dreadful day, on which I saw
my father and mother killed, and my sister ravished. When the Bulgarians
retired, my dear sister could not be found; but my mother, my father,
and myself, with two maid-servants and three little boys all of whom had
been slain, were put in a hearse, to be conveyed for interment to a
chapel belonging to the Jesuits, within two leagues of our family seat.
A Jesuit sprinkled us with some holy water; it was horribly salt; a few
drops of it fell into my eyes; the father perceived that my eyelids
stirred a little; he put his hand upon my heart and felt it beat. I
received assistance, and at the end of three weeks I recovered. You
know, my dear Candide, I was very pretty; but I grew much prettier, and
the reverend Father Didrie,[16] Superior of that House, conceived the
tenderest friendship for me; he gave me the habit of the order, some
years after I was sent to Rome. The Father-General needed new levies of
young German-Jesuits. The sovereigns of Paraguay admit as few Spanish
Jesuits as possible; they prefer those of other nations as being more
subordinate to their commands. I was judged fit by the reverend
Father-General to go and work in this vineyard. We set out--a Pole, a
Tyrolese, and myself. Upon my arrival I was honoured with a
sub-deaconship and a lieutenancy. I am to-day colonel and priest. We
shall give a warm reception to the King of Spain's troops; I will answer
for it that they shall be excommunicated and well beaten. Providence
sends you here to assist us. But is it, indeed, true that my dear sister
Cunegonde is in the neighbourhood, with the Governor of Buenos Ayres?"

Candide assured him on oath that nothing was more true, and their tears
began afresh.

The Baron could not refrain from embracing Candide; he called him his
brother, his saviour.

"Ah! perhaps," said he, "we shall together, my dear Candide, enter the
town as conquerors, and recover my sister Cunegonde."

"That is all I want," said Candide, "for I intended to marry her, and I
still hope to do so."

"You insolent!" replied the Baron, "would you have the impudence to
marry my sister who has seventy-two quarterings! I find thou hast the
most consummate effrontery to dare to mention so presumptuous a design!"

Candide, petrified at this speech, made answer:

"Reverend Father, all the quarterings in the world signify nothing; I
rescued your sister from the arms of a Jew and of an Inquisitor; she has
great obligations to me, she wishes to marry me; Master Pangloss always
told me that all men are equal, and certainly I will marry her."

"We shall see that, thou scoundrel!" said the Jesuit Baron de
Thunder-ten-Tronckh, and that instant struck him across the face with
the flat of his sword. Candide in an instant drew his rapier, and
plunged it up to the hilt in the Jesuit's belly; but in pulling it out
reeking hot, he burst into tears.

"Good God!" said he, "I have killed my old master, my friend, my
brother-in-law! I am the best-natured creature in the world, and yet I
have already killed three men, and of these three two were priests."

Cacambo, who stood sentry by the door of the arbour, ran to him.

"We have nothing more for it than to sell our lives as dearly as we
can," said his master to him, "without doubt some one will soon enter
the arbour, and we must die sword in hand."

Cacambo, who had been in a great many scrapes in his lifetime, did not
lose his head; he took the Baron's Jesuit habit, put it on Candide, gave
him the square cap, and made him mount on horseback. All this was done
in the twinkling of an eye.

"Let us gallop fast, master, everybody will take you for a Jesuit, going
to give directions to your men, and we shall have passed the frontiers
before they will be able to overtake us."

He flew as he spoke these words, crying out aloud in Spanish:

"Make way, make way, for the reverend Father Colonel."




Candide and his valet had got beyond the barrier, before it was known in
the camp that the German Jesuit was dead. The wary Cacambo had taken
care to fill his wallet with bread, chocolate, bacon, fruit, and a few
bottles of wine. With their Andalusian horses they penetrated into an
unknown country, where they perceived no beaten track. At length they
came to a beautiful meadow intersected with purling rills. Here our two
adventurers fed their horses. Cacambo proposed to his master to take
some food, and he set him an example.

"How can you ask me to eat ham," said Candide, "after killing the
Baron's son, and being doomed never more to see the beautiful Cunegonde?
What will it avail me to spin out my wretched days and drag them far
from her in remorse and despair? And what will the _Journal of
Trevoux_[17] say?"

While he was thus lamenting his fate, he went on eating. The sun went
down. The two wanderers heard some little cries which seemed to be
uttered by women. They did not know whether they were cries of pain or
joy; but they started up precipitately with that inquietude and alarm
which every little thing inspires in an unknown country. The noise was
made by two naked girls, who tripped along the mead, while two monkeys
were pursuing them and biting their buttocks. Candide was moved with
pity; he had learned to fire a gun in the Bulgarian service, and he was
so clever at it, that he could hit a filbert in a hedge without touching
a leaf of the tree. He took up his double-barrelled Spanish fusil, let
it off, and killed the two monkeys.

"God be praised! My dear Cacambo, I have rescued those two poor
creatures from a most perilous situation. If I have committed a sin in
killing an Inquisitor and a Jesuit, I have made ample amends by saving
the lives of these girls. Perhaps they are young ladies of family; and
this adventure may procure us great advantages in this country."

He was continuing, but stopped short when he saw the two girls tenderly
embracing the monkeys, bathing their bodies in tears, and rending the
air with the most dismal lamentations.

"Little did I expect to see such good-nature," said he at length to
Cacambo; who made answer:

"Master, you have done a fine thing now; you have slain the sweethearts
of those two young ladies."

"The sweethearts! Is it possible? You are jesting, Cacambo, I can never
believe it!"

"Dear master," replied Cacambo; "you are surprised at everything. Why
should you think it so strange that in some countries there are monkeys
which insinuate themselves into the good graces of the ladies; they are
a fourth part human, as I am a fourth part Spaniard."

"Alas!" replied Candide, "I remember to have heard Master Pangloss say,
that formerly such accidents used to happen; that these mixtures were
productive of Centaurs, Fauns, and Satyrs; and that many of the ancients
had seen such monsters, but I looked upon the whole as fabulous."

"You ought now to be convinced," said Cacambo, "that it is the truth,
and you see what use is made of those creatures, by persons that have
not had a proper education; all I fear is that those ladies will play us
some ugly trick."

These sound reflections induced Candide to leave the meadow and to
plunge into a wood. He supped there with Cacambo; and after cursing the
Portuguese inquisitor, the Governor of Buenos Ayres, and the Baron, they
fell asleep on moss. On awaking they felt that they could not move; for
during the night the Oreillons, who inhabited that country, and to whom
the ladies had denounced them, had bound them with cords made of the
bark of trees. They were encompassed by fifty naked Oreillons, armed
with bows and arrows, with clubs and flint hatchets. Some were making a
large cauldron boil, others were preparing spits, and all cried:

"A Jesuit! a Jesuit! we shall be revenged, we shall have excellent
cheer, let us eat the Jesuit, let us eat him up!"

"I told you, my dear master," cried Cacambo sadly, "that those two girls
would play us some ugly trick."

Candide seeing the cauldron and the spits, cried:

"We are certainly going to be either roasted or boiled. Ah! what would
Master Pangloss say, were he to see how pure nature is formed?
Everything is right, may be, but I declare it is very hard to have lost
Miss Cunegonde and to be put upon a spit by Oreillons."

Cacambo never lost his head.

"Do not despair," said he to the disconsolate Candide, "I understand a
little of the jargon of these people, I will speak to them."

"Be sure," said Candide, "to represent to them how frightfully inhuman
it is to cook men, and how very un-Christian."

"Gentlemen," said Cacambo, "you reckon you are to-day going to feast
upon a Jesuit. It is all very well, nothing is more unjust than thus to
treat your enemies. Indeed, the law of nature teaches us to kill our
neighbour, and such is the practice all over the world. If we do not
accustom ourselves to eating them, it is because we have better fare.
But you have not the same resources as we; certainly it is much better
to devour your enemies than to resign to the crows and rooks the fruits
of your victory. But, gentlemen, surely you would not choose to eat your
friends. You believe that you are going to spit a Jesuit, and he is your
defender. It is the enemy of your enemies that you are going to roast.
As for myself, I was born in your country; this gentleman is my master,
and, far from being a Jesuit, he has just killed one, whose spoils he
wears; and thence comes your mistake. To convince you of the truth of
what I say, take his habit and carry it to the first barrier of the
Jesuit kingdom, and inform yourselves whether my master did not kill a
Jesuit officer. It will not take you long, and you can always eat us if
you find that I have lied to you. But I have told you the truth. You are
too well acquainted with the principles of public law, humanity, and
justice not to pardon us."

The Oreillons found this speech very reasonable. They deputed two of
their principal people with all expedition to inquire into the truth of
the matter; these executed their commission like men of sense, and soon
returned with good news. The Oreillons untied their prisoners, showed
them all sorts of civilities, offered them girls, gave them refreshment,
and reconducted them to the confines of their territories, proclaiming
with great joy:

"He is no Jesuit! He is no Jesuit!"

Candide could not help being surprised at the cause of his deliverance.

"What people!" said he; "what men! what manners! If I had not been so
lucky as to run Miss Cunegonde's brother through the body, I should have
been devoured without redemption. But, after all, pure nature is good,
since these people, instead of feasting upon my flesh, have shown me a
thousand civilities, when then I was not a Jesuit."

 The old woman had advised Cunegonde to get the passengers to tell her their adventures. The latter did so and found that the pessimistic argument was correct. Candide expressed regret that Pangloss was not present to voice his optimistic philosophy and that he would now offer the learned doctor a few objections. The old woman had advised Cunegonde to get the passengers to tell her their adventures. The latter did so and found that the pessimistic argument was correct. Candide expressed regret that Pangloss was not present to voice his optimistic philosophy and that he would now offer the learned doctor a few objections. The vessel landed at Buenos Aires, where Cunegonde, Captain Candide, and the old woman called on the proud, often overbearing governor, Don Fernando d'Ibarra y Figueroa y Mascarenes y Lampourdos y Souza. His chief passion was women. Struck by the beauty of Cunegonde, he asked her if she were married to Candide. And Candide, alarmed by what seemed to be implied, stated that the mademoiselle was engaged to him and implored His Excellency to perform their wedding ceremony. In response, the insolent governor ordered Candide to go pass his company in review. He then announced that on the next day he would marry Cunegonde. The young lady asked for a few moments to consult the old woman before making up her mind. The old woman's advice was practical enough: the high born Cunegonde now was destitute; she could retrieve her fortune by becoming the wife of the greatest lord in South America. Was it for Cunegonde, the old woman asked, to pride herself on an invincible fidelity when the many misfortunes she had experienced conferred rights? The old woman herself would have had no scruple about marrying the governor. While the woman spoke, a small vessel entered the port, bringing an alcaide and some alguazils . From them it was learned that a Franciscan father indeed had stolen Cunegonde's money and jewels. When he tried to sell some jewels, the jeweler recognized them as belonging to the Grand Inquisitor. Before he was hanged, the culprit confessed. The flight of Cunegonde and Candide was known to the town officials, who had then followed them to Cadiz and on to Buenos Aires. When the old woman learned that her companions were being sought by Spanish police, she consoled the young lady: she was not guilty of murder, and she now would be protected by His Lordship. The old woman sought out Candide and urged him to flee. So again the callow youth was to be parted from the incomparable Cunegonde. Where could he go? We now learn that Candide had brought with him from Spain as his valet one Cacambo, a man of mixed blood and wide experience. In fact, he had been at various times a choirboy, sacristan, monk, merchant's agent, soldier, and lackey. He was loyal and devoted to Candide. When he learned of his master's plight, he quickly saddled the two Andalusian horses and urged Candide to run for it. Candide shed appropriate tears for Cunegonde, whom he had expected to marry immediately. But Cacambo urged him not to worry about her: women were never helpless; God looked after them. So Candide placed himself in the hands of his servant, who told him that, sent to fight the Jesuits, they would instead join the warring Fathers. The Jesuits, he was sure, would welcome a captain who could drill Bulgarian style, and Candide would prosper. The youth learned that Cacambo had been in Paraguay previously; he had been a servant in the College of the Assumption, and he was quite familiar with the Jesuits' government, which he described as most admirable; in truth he knew nothing so divine as the Fathers! At the first barrier, the two sought an audience with the commandant. Candide and his servant were permitted to appear before him only after having been disarmed and their horses seized. Since Candide proved to be a German, not a Spaniard, the Jesuit leader, who had been at parade following Mass, deigned to meet him in a splendid, ornate arbor, where an excellent breakfast served in golden vessels had been prepared. The Reverend Father Commander, a very proud young man, saw to it that the two were given back their arms and horses. While Cacambo left to feed the horses, Candide sat down at the table, after first having kissed the hem of the commander's robe. The Jesuit, questioning Candide in German, learned that his guest was from Westphalia and had been born in the castle of Thunder-ten-tronck. There follows another one of those surprising discoveries so typical of the tale: the commander revealed himself as the brother of the fair Cunegonde -- the man who, in Candide's words, had been killed by the Bulgarians. How happy Pangloss would have been, had he not been hanged, exclaimed the naive Candide. As for the commander, he thanked God and St. Ignatius a thousand times. Candide next informed the commander that his sister lived and was in good health, that she was with the governor of Buenos Aires, and that he had come to make war against the Jesuits in Paraguay. Germans as they were, the two remained long at the table, the Jesuit baron especially talking at length as he recalled the day when he saw his mother and father killed and his sister raped. Assuming that he had been killed, the Bulgarians had placed his body in a cart along with those of other victims to be taken for burial. A Jesuit discovered that he still lived and rescued him, and his fortunes then turned for the better. Candide will have remembered, the commander continued, that he was very pretty. As a result of his physical endowments, the Superior had become very fond of him. He was made a novice and later sent to Rome. Ultimately he was among the young German Catholic recruits to be sent to Paraguay. In the new country, his advancement was rapid. He became a sub-deacon and a lieutenant and finally a colonel and a priest. The Spanish troops, he assured Candide, would be soundly beaten and excommunicated. The baron never tired of embracing Candide, whom he called his brother and savior. Perhaps, he said, they could enter Buenos Aires as conquerors and be reunited with Cunegonde. Nothing would have pleased Candide more, and he then revealed the fact that he expected to marry the baron's sister. Now the baron, who had been so effusive toward Candide, became enraged, and he denounced the hapless youth as an insolent wretch. How could Candide have had the impudence to marry his sister with seventy-two divisions on her coat-of-arms! The petrified young man endeavored to reason with the Jesuit baron, telling how he had rescued her from a Jew and the Grand Inquisitor and adding that Doctor Pangloss had always told him that men are equal. He concluded firmly that he intended to marry Cunegonde. The baron could not restrain himself. He struck Candide on the face with the flat of his sword, and the youth, drawing his own weapon, paid back the blow with a thrust to the hilt into the Jesuit's body. Appalled that he again had been placed in a position where he was impelled to perform a violent act, Candide bewailed his lot: he, the kindest man in the world, had now killed three men, two of them priests. Standing at the door of the arbor, Cacambo had observed all this. He came running to his master's side and told him that they must sell their lives dearly. He remained his calm self; after all, he had seen much violence before. Cacambo put the robe of the Jesuit baron on Candide, gave him the dead man's head gear, and had him mount one of the horses. As they dashed away, the clever servant cried out: "Make way, make way for the Reverend Father Colonel!" The two rode safely beyond the barriers that had been erected for the defense of Paraguay. Cacambo had taken care to bring along provisions, and, after riding deep into the unknown country, the two dismounted. Beginning to eat some of the food, Cacambo urged his master to do likewise. But Candide exclaimed that he could not be expected to eat ham since he had just killed the son of the first baron and now knew that he would never see Cunegonde again. He was sure that remorse and despair were his lot for the rest of his days. And what, he asked, will the Journal de Trevoux say? But nevertheless he did eat. Hearing some cries uttered by young women, the two jumped to their feet in alarm. The sound, they discovered, came from two naked girls who were pursued by monkeys that bit at them as they ran. Candide, moved by compassion, killed both animals with his double-barreled Spanish gun. God be praised, he said to Cacambo; this good deed would make up for the sin of killing an Inquisitor, a Jew, and the Jesuit baron. And perhaps this action would win them advantages in this strange country. But the girls did not rush forward to thank their rescuer; instead they wept and tenderly embraced the two dead monkeys. "I was not expecting such goodness of soul," said Candide, and then he was informed that he had killed the girls' lovers. He was incredulous, but once more Cacambo enlightened him: after all, monkeys were one-quarter men. Why should it be strange that in some countries the ladies became emotionally attached to monkeys? Then Candide recalled that Pangloss had told him of such unions, but he had believed that all he had been told belonged to the realm of fable. As Cacambo remarked, now he knew better. The two next retired into the woods, where they ate and slept. They could not move when they awoke, for during the night the native Oreillons had bound them with ropes of bark. Fifty naked Oreillons, armed with arrows, stone clubs, and hatchets, surrounded them. Nearby other natives attended a great caldron of boiling water, while still others prepared spits. All shouted that they would be avenged by eating a Jesuit. Cacambo blamed the girls for their sad plight. Candide, looking at the caldron and spits, knew that they were about to be roasted or boiled, and he wondered what Doctor Pangloss would have said if he saw what the pure state of nature was like. Cacambo, as we have seen, never lost his head. He consoled his master, saying that he knew a bit of the native's language and would talk with them. And so he did, most reasonably. He argued with the Oreillons that a Jesuit should be devoured, for national law taught us to kill our neighbors, and all people behave accordingly. But, he continued, the natives would not want to eat their friends. He then convinced them that they should verify the facts before deciding to treat him and Candide as enemies. And the facts were verified, whereupon Candide and his servant were treated most hospitably. At last the Oreillons conducted the two to the border of their country, shouting joyfully: "He's not a Jesuit!" Candide, wondering about this latest experience, decided that the pure state of nature must be good since his life had been spared once his captors learned that he was not a Jesuit.

