 This is a LibriVox recording. Candide by Voltaire. Introduction by Philip Littel. Ever since 1759, when Voltaire wrote Candide in ridicule of the notion that this is the best of all possible worlds, this world has been a gayer place for readers. Voltaire wrote it in three days, and five or six generations have found that its laughter does not grow old. Candide has not aged. Yet how different the book would have looked if Voltaire had written it a hundred and fifty years later than 1759. It would have been, among other things, a book of sights and sounds. A modern writer would have tried to catch and fix in words some of those Atlantic changes which broke the Atlantic monotony of that voyage from Cadiz to Buenos Aires. When Martin and Candide were sailing the length of the Mediterranean, we should have had a contrast between naked, scarped, Balearic cliffs and headlands of Calabria in their mists. We should have had quarter distances, far horizons, the altering silhouettes of an Ionian island. Colored birds would have filled Paraguay with their silver or acid cries. Dr. Pangloss, to prove the existence of design in the universe, says that noses were made to carry spectacles, and so we have spectacles. A modern satirist would not try to paint with Voltaire's quick brush the doctrine that he wanted to expose, and he would choose a more complicated doctrine than Dr. Pangloss's optimism, would study it more closely, feel his destructive way about it with a more learned and caressing malice. His attack, stealthier, more flexible and more patient than Voltaire's, would call upon us, especially when his learning got a little out of control, to be more than patient. Now and then he would bore us. Candide never bored anybody, except William Wordsworth. Voltaire's men and women point his case against optimism by starting high and falling low. A modern could not go about it after this fashion. He would not plunge his people into an unfamiliar misery. He would just keep them in the misery they were born to. But such an account of Voltaire's procedure is as misleading as the plaster cast of a dance. Look at his procedure again. Madame Ozil Cunaganda, the illustrious Westphalian, sprung from a family that could prove seventy-one quarterings, descends and descends until we find her earning her keep by washing dishes in the propontis. The aged faithful attendant, victim of a hundred acts of rape by Negro pirates, remembers that she is the daughter of a pope, and that in honor of her approaching marriage with a prince of Massa Carara, all Italy wrote sonnets of which not one was passable. We do not need to know French literature before Voltaire in order to feel, although the lurking parody may escape us, that he is poking fun at us and at himself. His laughter at his own methods grows more unmistakable at the last, when he caricatures them by casually assembling six fallen monarchs in and in at Venice. A modern assailant of optimism would arm himself with social pity. There is no social pity in Candide. Voltaire, whose light touch on familiar institutions opens them and reveals their absurdity, likes to remind us that the slaughter and pillage and murder which Candide witnessed among the Bulgarians was perfectly regular, having been conducted according to the laws and usages of war. Had Voltaire lived today, he would have done to poverty what he did to war. Pitying the poor, he would have shown us poverty as a ridiculous anachronism, and both the ridicule and the pity would have expressed his indignation. Almost any modern essaying a philosophic tale would make it long. Candide is only a hamlet and a half long. It would hardly have been shorter if Voltaire had spent three months on it instead of those three days. A conciseness to be matched in English by nobody except Pope, who can say a plagiarizing enemy steals much, spends little, and has nothing left. A conciseness which Pope toiled and sweated for came as easy as wit to Voltaire. He can afford to be witty, parenthetically by the way, prodigly, without saving because he knows there is more wit where that came from. One of Max Bierbaum's cartoons shows us the young 20th century going at top speed and watched by two of his predecessors. Underneath is this legend, the grave misgivings of the 19th century and the wicked amusement of the 18th in watching the progress or whatever it is of the 20th. This 18th century snuff-taking and maliciousness is like Voltaire, who nevertheless must know, if he happens to think of it, that not yet in the 20th century, not for all its speed mania, has anyone come near to equaling the speed of a prose tale by Voltaire. Candide is a full book. It is filled with mockery, with inventiveness, with things as concrete as things to eat and coins. It has time for the neatest intellectual clikings. It is never hurried, and it moves with the most amazing rapidity. It has the rapidity of high spirits playing a game. The dry high spirits of this destroyer of optimism make most optimists look damp and depressed. Contemplation of the stupidity which deems happiness possible almost made Voltaire happy. His attack on optimism is one of the gayest books in the world. Gayety has been scattered everywhere up and down its pages by Voltaire's lavish hand by his thin fingers. Many propagandist satirical books have been written with Candide in mind, but not too many. Today especially when new fates are changing the structure of the world, fates which are still plastic enough to be deformed by every disciple, each disciple for himself, and which have not yet received the final deformation known as universal acceptance. Today Candide is an inspiration to every narrative satirist who hates one of these new fates, or hates every interpretation of it but his own. Either hatred will serve as a motive to satire. That is why the present is one of the right moments to republish Candide. I hope it will inspire younger men and women, the only ones who can be inspired, to have a try at Theodore or militarism, Jane or pacifism, and so and so the pragmatist or the Freudian. And I hope too that they will, without trying, hold their pens with an eighteenth-century lightness, not inappropriate to a philosophic tale. In Voltaire's fingers, as Anatole France has said, the pen runs and laughs. Recorded by Ted DeLorm and Fort Mill, South Carolina, in January 2007. This is a LibriVox recording. Candide by Voltaire, Chapter 1. How Candide was brought up in a magnificent castle, and how he was expelled thence. In a castle of Westphalia, belonging to the barren Thunder-Ten Trunk, he lived a youth whom nature had endowed with the most gentle manners. His countenance was a true picture of his soul. He combined a true judgment with simplicity of spirit, which was the reason, I apprehend, of his being called Candide. The old servants of the family suspected him to have been the son of the barren's sister, by a good honest gentleman of the neighborhood, a young lady would never marry, because he had been able to prove only seventy-one quarterings, the rest of his genealogical tree, having been lost through the injuries of time. The barren was one of the most powerful lords in Westphalia, for his castle had not only a gate but windows. His great hall even was hung with tapestry. All the dogs of his farm yards formed a pack of hounds at need. His grooms were his huntsmen, and the curate of the village was his grand almaner. They called him my lord, and laughed at all his stories. The barren's lady weighed about three hundred and fifty pounds, and was therefore a person of great consideration, and she did the honors of the house with a dignity that commanded still greater respect. Her daughter, Kunaganda, was seventeen years of age, fresh-colored, comely, plump, and desirable. The barren son seemed to be in every respect worthy of his father. The preceptor Pangloss was the oracle of the family, and little Candide heard his lessons with all the good faith of his age and character. Pangloss was professor of metaphysical-theologico-cosmolognigology. He proved admirably that there is no effect without a cause, and that in this best of all possible worlds the barren's castle was the most magnificent of castles, and his lady the best of all possible barrenesses. It is demonstrable, said he, that things cannot be otherwise than as they are. For all being created for an end, all is necessarily for the best end. Observe that the nose has been formed to bear spectacles. Thus we have spectacles. Legs are visibly designed for stockings, and we have stockings. Stones were made to be hewn and to construct castles. Therefore my lord has a magnificent castle, for the greatest barren in the province ought to be the best lodged. Pigs were made to be eaten. Therefore we eat pork all the year round. Consequently they who assert that all is well have said a foolish thing. They should have said all is for the best. Candide listened attentively and believed innocently, for he thought Miss Kunaganda extremely beautiful, though he never had the courage to tell her so. He concluded that after the happiness of being born of barren, thunder, tin, trunk, the second degree of happiness was to be Miss Kunaganda, the third that of seeing her every day, and the fourth that of hearing Master Pangloss, the greatest philosopher of the whole province, and consequently of the whole world. One day Kunaganda, while walking near the castle, in a little wood which they called a park, saw between the bushes Dr. Pangloss giving a lesson in experimental natural philosophy to her mother's chambermaid, a little brown winch very pretty and very docile. As Miss Kunaganda had a great disposition for the sciences, she breathlessly observed the repeated experiments of which she was a witness. She clearly perceived the force of the doctor's reasons, the effects and the causes. She turned back greatly flurried, quite pensive, and filled with the desire to be learned, dreaming that she might well be a sufficient reason for young Candide and he for her. She met Candide on reaching the castle and blushed. Candide blushed also. She wished him good morrow in a faltering tone, and Candide spoke to her without knowing what he said. The next day after dinner, as they went from table, Kunaganda and Candide found themselves behind a screen. Kunaganda let fall her handkerchief. Candide picked it up. She took him innocently by the hand. The youth has innocently kissed the young lady's hand with particular vivacity, sensibility and grace. Their lips met. Their eyes sparkled. Their knees trembled. Their hands strayed. Baron Thunder Tin Trunk passed near the screen and, beholding this cause and effect, chased Candide from the castle with great kicks on the backside. Kunaganda fainted away. She was boxed on the ears by the Baroness, as soon as she came to herself, and all was consternation in this most magnificent and most agreeable of all possible castles. CHAPTER II What Became of Candide Among the Bulgarians Candide, driven from terrestrial paradise, walked a long while without knowing where, weeping, raising his eyes to heaven, turning them often towards the most magnificent of castles, which imprisoned the purest of noble young ladies. He lay down to sleep without supper. In the middle of a field between two furrows, the snow fell in large flakes. Next day Candide, all benumbed, dragged himself towards the neighbouring town, which was called Waldberghof-Trarbdiktorf. Having no money, dying of hunger and fatigue, he stopped sorrowfully at the door of an inn. Two men dressed in blue observed him. Comrade said one, here is a well-built young fellow and of proper height. They went up to Candide and very civilly invited him to dinner. Gentlemen replied Candide with a most engaging modesty. You do me great honour, but I have not wherewithal to pay my share. Oh, sir, said one of the blues to him, people of your appearance and of your merit never pay anything. Are you not five feet five inches high? Yes, sir, that is my height, answered he, making a low bow. Come, sir, seat yourself. Not only will we pay your reckoning, but we will never suffer such a man as you to want money. Men are only born to assist one another. You are right, said Candide. This is what I was always taught by Dr. Pangloss, and I see plainly that all is for the best. They begged of him to accept a few crowns. He took them and wished to give them his note. They refused. They seated themselves at table. Love you not deeply. Oh, yes, answered he. I deeply love Miss Kunaganda. No, said one of the gentlemen. We ask you if you do not deeply love the king of the Bulgarians. Not at all, said he, for I have never seen him. What? He is the best of kings, and we must drink his health. Oh, very willingly, gentlemen, and he drank. That is enough, they tell him. Now you are the help, the support, the defender, the hero of the Bulgarians. Your fortune is made, and your glory is assured. Instantly they fettered him and carried him away to the regiment. There he was made to wheel about to the right and to the left to draw his rammer, to return his rammer, to present, to fire, to march, and they gave him thirty blows with a cudgel. The next day he did his exercise a little less badly, and he received but twenty blows. The day following they gave him only ten, and he was regarded by his comrades as a prodigy. Candid, all stupefied, could not yet very well realize how he was a hero. He resolved one fine day in spring to go for a walk, marching straight before him, believing that it was a privilege of the human as well as of the animal species to make use of their legs as they pleased. He had advanced two leagues when he was overtaken by four others, heroes of six feet who bound him and carried him to a dungeon. He was asked which he would like the best, to be whipped six and thirty times through all the regiment or to receive at once twelve balls of lead in his brain. He vainly said that human will is free and that he chose neither the one nor the other. He was forced to make a choice. He determined in virtue of that gift of God called liberty to run the gauntlet six and thirty times. He bore this twice. The regiment was composed of two thousand men that composed for him four thousand strokes which laid bare all his muscles and nerves from the nape of his neck quite down to his rump. As they were going to proceed to a third whipping, Candide, able to bear no more, begged as a favor that they would be so good as to shoot him. He obtained this favor. They bandaged his eyes and bade him kneel down. The king of the Bulgarians passed at this moment and ascertained the nature of the crime. As he had great talent, he understood from all that he learned of Candide that he was a young metaphysician extremely ignorant of the things of this world and he accorded him his pardon with a clemency which will bring him praise in all the journals and throughout all ages. An able surgeon cured Candide in three weeks by means of emolience taught by Dioscorides. He had already a little skin and was able to march when the king of the Bulgarians gave battle to the king of the Abbares. End Chapter 2 This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Candide by Voltaire Chapter 2 Read by Ted DeLorm and Fort Mill, South Carolina during January 2007. This is a LibriVox recording. Candide by Voltaire Chapter 3 How Candide made his escape from the Bulgarians and what afterwards became of him. There was never anything so gallant, so spruce, so brilliant and so well-disposed as the two armies. Pumpets, fiefs, hot boys, drums and cannon made music such as Hell itself had never heard. The cannons, first of all, laid flat about six thousand men on each side. The muskets swept away from this best of worlds nine or ten thousand ruffians who infested its surface. The bayonet was also a sufficient reason for the death of several thousands. The whole might amount to thirty thousand souls. Candide, who trembled like a philosopher, hid himself as well as he could during this heroic butchery. At length, while the two kings were causing Ted Deum to be sung each in his own camp, Candide resolved to go and reason elsewhere on effects and causes. He passed over heaps of dead and dying and first reached a neighboring village. It was in Cinders. It was an Abare village which the Bulgarians had burnt according to the laws of war. Here old men covered with wounds beheld their wives hugging their children to their bloody breasts. Massacred before their faces, there their daughters disemboweled and breathing their last after having satisfied the natural wants of Bulgarian heroes, while others half burnt in the flames begged to be dispatched. The earth was strewn with brains, arms and legs. Candide fled quickly to another village. It belonged to the Bulgarians and the Abarian heroes had treated it in the same way. Candide, walking always over palpitating limbs or across ruins, arrived at last beyond the seat of war with a few provisions in his knapsack and Miss Cunaganda always in his heart. His provisions failed him when he arrived in Holland, but having heard that everybody was rich in that country and that they were Christians, he did not doubt but he should meet with the same treatment from them as he had met with in the Baron's castle before Miss Cunaganda's bright eyes were the cause of his expulsion thence. He asked arms of several grave-looking people who all answered him that if he continued to follow this trade they would confine him to the House of Correction where he should be taught to get a living. The next he addressed was a man who had been haranguing a large assembly for a whole hour on the subject of charity. But the orator, looking askew, said, What are you doing here? Are you for the good cause? There can be no effect without a cause, modestly answered Candide. My goal is necessarily concatenated and arranged for the best. It was necessary for me to have been banished from the presence of Miss Cunaganda to have afterwards run the gauntlet and now it is necessary I should beg my bread until I learn to earn it. All this cannot be otherwise. My friend, said the orator to him, Do you believe the Pope to be the anti-Christ? I have not heard it, answered Candide, but whether he be or whether he be not, I want bread. Now does not deserve to eat, said the other. Be gone, rogue! Be gone, wretch! Do not come near me again. The orator's wife, putting her head out of the window and spying a man that doubted whether the Pope was the anti-Christ, poured over him a full... Oh, heavens, to what excess does religious zeal carry the ladies? A man who had never been christened, a good anabaptist named James, beheld the cruel and ignominious treatment shown to one of his brethren, an unfethered biped with a rational soul. He took him home, cleaned him, gave him bread and beer, presented him with two florins and even wished to teach him the manufacture of Persian stuffs which they make in Holland. Candide, almost prostrating himself before him, cried, Master Pangloss has well said that all is for the best in this world, for I am infinitely more touched by your extreme generosity than with the inhumanity of that gentleman in the black coat and his lady. The next day, as he took a walk, he met a beggar all covered with scabs, his eyes diseased, the end of his nose eaten away, his mouth distorted, his teeth black, choking in his throat, tormented with a violent cough and spitting out a tooth at each effort. End Chapter 3 This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Read by Ted DeLorm in Fort Mill, South Carolina during January 2007. This is a LibriVox recording. Candide by Voltaire. Chapter 4 How Candide found his old Master Pangloss and what happened to them? Candide, yet more moved with compassion than with horror, gave to this shocking beggar the two Florence which he had received from the Honest Anabaptist James. The specter looked at him very earnestly, dropped a few tears and fell upon his neck. Candide recoiled in disgust. Alas! said one wretch to the other. Do you no longer know your dear Pangloss? What do I hear? You, my dear Master? You in this terrible plight? What misfortune has happened to you? Why are you no longer in the most magnificent of castles? What has become of Miss Cunagonda, the pearl of girls and nature's masterpiece? I am so weak that I cannot stand, said Pangloss, upon which Candide carried him to the Anabaptist's stable and gave him a crust of bread. As soon as Pangloss had refreshed himself a little, well, said Candide, Cunagonda, she is dead, replied the other. Candide fainted at this word. His friend recalled his senses with the little bad vinegar which he found by chance in the stable. Candide reopened his eyes. Cunagonda is dead. Best of worlds, where art thou? But of what illness did she die? Was it not for grief upon seeing her father kick me out of his magnificent castle? No, said Pangloss. She was ripped open by the Bulgarian soldiers. After having been violated by many, they broke the barren's head for attempting to defend her. My lady, her mother, was cut in pieces. My poor pupil was served just in the same manner as his sister, but as for the castles they have not left one stone upon another, not a barn, not a sheep, nor a duck, nor a tree. But we have had our revenge, for the abarres have done the very same thing to a neighbouring barony which belonged to a Bulgarian lord. At this discourse Candide fainted again, but coming to himself and having said all that it became him to say, inquired into the cause and effect as well as into the sufficient reason that had reduced Pangloss to so miserable a plight. Alas, said the other, it was love. Love, the comfort of the human species, the preserver of the universe, the soul of all sensible things. Love, tender love. Alas, said Candide, I know this love, that sovereign of hearts, that soul of our souls, yet it never cost me more than a kiss and twenty kicks on the backside. How could this beautiful cause produce in you an effect so abominable? Pangloss made answer in these terms. Oh, my dear Candide, you remember Paquette, that pretty wench who waited on our noble baroness? In her arms I tasted the delights of paradise, which produced in me those hell-torments with which you see me devoured. She was infected with them. She is perhaps dead of them. This present Paquette received of a learned gray fryer who had traced it to its source. He had had it of an old countess who had received it from a cavalry captain, who owed it to a marcherness, who took it from a page, and received it from a Jesuit, who, when a novice, had it in a direct line from one of the companions of Christopher Columbus. For my part I shall give it to nobody. I am dying. Oh, Pangloss, cried Candide, what a strange genealogy. Is not the devil the original stock of it? Not at all, replied this great man. It was a thing unavoidable, a necessary ingredient in the best of worlds. For if Columbus had not in an island of America caught this disease, which contaminates the source of life, frequently even hinders generation, and which is evidently opposed to the great end of nature, we should have neither chocolate nor cochineal. We are to observe that upon our continent this distemper is like religious controversy confined to a particular spot. The Turks, the Indians, the Persians, the Chinese, the Siamese, the Japanese know nothing of it, but there is a sufficient reason for believing that they will know it in their turn in a few centuries. In the meantime it has made marvellous progress among us, especially in those great armies composed of honest, well-disciplined hirelings who decide the destiny of states. For we may safely affirm that when an army of 30,000 men fights another of an equal number, there are about 20,000 of them poxed on each side. Well, this is wonderful, said Candide, but you must get cured. Alas, how can I, said Pangloss, I have not a farthing, my friend, and all over the globe there is no letting of blood or taking a glister without paying, or somebody paying for you. These last words determined Candide. He went and flung himself at the feet of a charitable Anabaptist, James, and gave him so touching a picture of the state to which his friend was reduced that the good man did not scruple to take Dr. Pangloss into his house and had him cured at his expense. In the cure Pangloss lost only an eye and an ear. He wrote well and knew arithmetic perfectly. The Anabaptist, James, made him his bookkeeper. At the end of two months being obliged to listen about some mercantile affairs, he took the two philosophers with him in his ship. Pangloss explained to him how everything was so constituted that it could not be better. James was not of this opinion. It is more likely, said he, mankind have a little corrupted nature, for they were not born wolves, and they have become wolves. God has given them neither canon for four and twenty pounders nor bayonets, and yet they have made canon and bayonets to destroy one another. Into this account I might throw not only bankrupts, but justice which seizes on the effects of bankrupts to cheat the creditors. All this was indispensable, replied the one eye doctor, for private misfortunes make the general good, so that the more private misfortunes there are, the greater is the general good. While he reasoned, the sky darkened, the winds blew from the four quarters, and the ship was assailed by a most terrible tempest within sight of the port of Lisbon. Candide by Voltaire Read by Ted DeLorm in Fort Mill, South Carolina, during January 2007. This is a LibriVox recording. Candide by Voltaire Chapter 5 Tempest, Shipwreck, Earthquake, and what became of Dr. Pangloss, Candide, and James the Anabaptist. Half dead of that inconceivable anguish which the rolling of a ship produces, one half of the passengers were not even sensible of the danger. The other half shrieked and prayed. The sheets were rent, the masts broken, the vessel gaped. Work who would, no one heard, no one commanded. The Anabaptist being upon deck bore a hand. When a brutish sailor struck him roughly and laid him sprawling, the violence of the blow he himself tumbled head foremost overboard and stuck upon a piece of the broken mast. Honest James ran to his assistance, holed him up, and from the effort he made was precipitated into the sea in sight of the sailor who left him to perish without daining to look at him. Candide drew near and saw his benefactor who rose above the water one moment and was then swallowed up forever. He was not just going to jump after him but was prevented by the philosopher Pangloss who demonstrated to him that the Bay of Lisbon had been made on purpose for the Anabaptist to be drowned. While he was proving this a priori, the ship foundered, all perished except Pangloss, Candide, and that brutal sailor who had drowned the good Anabaptist. The villain swam safely to the shore and Candide were born thither upon a plank. As soon as they recovered themselves a little they walked towards Lisbon. They had some money left with which they hoped to save themselves from starving after they had escaped drowning. Scarcely had they reached the city lamenting the death of their benefactor when they felt the earth tremble under their feet. The sea swelled and foamed in the harbour and beat to pieces the vessels riding at anchor. Whirlwinds of fire and ashes covered the streets and public places. Houses fell, roofs were flung upon the pavements and the pavements were scattered. Thirty thousand inhabitants of all ages and sexes were crushed under the ruins. The sailor, whistling and swearing, said there was booty to be gained here. What can be the sufficient reason of this phenomenon, said Pangloss? This is the last day, cried Candide. The sailor ran among the ruins facing death to find money. Finding it he took it, got drunk and having slept himself sober purchased the favours of the first good-natured winch whom he met on the ruins of the destroyed houses. And in the midst of the dying and the dead Pangloss pulled him by the sleeve. My friend, he said, This is not right. You sin against a universal reason. You choose your time badly. Splod and fury, answered the other. I'm a sailor and born in Batavia. Four times have I trampled upon the crucifix in four voyages to Japan, a fig for thy universal reason. Some falling stones had wounded Candide. He lay stretched in the street covered with rubbish. Alas, he said to Pangloss, Get me a little wine and oil. I am dying. This concussion of the earth is no new thing, answered Pangloss. The city of Lima in America experienced the same convulsions last year. The same cause, the same effects. There is certainly a train of sulfur underground from Lima to Lisbon. Nothing more probable, said Candide, but for the love of God, a little oil and wine. How probable, replied the philosopher. I maintain that the point is capable of being demonstrated. Candide fainted away and Pangloss fetched him some water from a neighbouring fountain. The following day they rummaged among the ruins and found provisions with which they repaired their exhausted strength. After this, they joined with others in relieving those inhabitants who had escaped death. Some, whom they had suckered, gave them as good a dinner as they could in such disastrous circumstances. True, the repast was mournful and the company moistened their bread with tears. But Pangloss consoled them, assuring them that things could not be otherwise. For, he said, all that is, is for the best. If there is a volcano at Lisbon, it cannot be elsewhere. It is impossible that things should be other than they are, for everything is right. A little man dressed in black, familiar of the Inquisition, who sat by him, politely took up his word and said, Apparently, then, sir, you do not believe in original sin. For, if all is for the best, there has been neither fall nor punishment. I humbly ask your Excellencies pardon, answered Pangloss, still more politely, for the fall and curse of man necessarily entered into the system of the best of worlds. Sir, said the familiar, you do not then believe in liberty? Your Excellency will excuse me, said Pangloss. Liberty is consistent with absolute necessity, for it was necessary we should be free, for, in short, the determinant will Pangloss was in the middle of his sentence when the familiar beckoned to his footmen who gave him a glass of wine from Porto or Oporto. End Chapter 5 This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Candide by Voltaire Read by Ted DeLorm in Fort Mill, South Carolina, in January 2007. This is a LibriVox recording. Candide by Voltaire. Chapter 6 How the Portuguese made a beautiful auto-defei to prevent any further earthquakes and how Candide was publicly whipped. After the earthquake had destroyed three-fourths of Lisbon, the sages of that country could think of no means more effectual to prevent utter ruin than to give the people a beautiful auto-defei. For it had been decided by the University of Coimbra that the burning of a few people alive by a slow fire and with great ceremony is an infallible secret to hinder the earth from quaking. In consequence hereof, they had seized on a bisqueiner convicted of having married his godmother and on two Portuguese for rejecting the bacon which larded a chicken they were eating. After dinner, they came and secured Dr. Pangloss and his disciple Candide, the one for speaking his mind, the other for having listened with an air of approbation. They were conducted to separate apartments, extremely cold, as they were never incommodated by the sun. Eight days after, they were dressed in San Benito's and their heads ornamented with paper mitres. The mitre and San Benito belonging to Candide were painted with reversed flames and with devils that had neither tails nor claws. But Pangloss' devils had claws and tails and the flames were upright. They marched in procession thus habited and heard a very pathetic sermon followed by fine church music. Candide was whipped in cadence while they were singing. The caner and the two men who had refused to eat bacon were burnt and Pangloss was hanged, though that was not the custom. The same day the earth sustained a most violent concussion. Candide terrified, amazed, desperate, all bloody, all palpitating said to himself, If this is the best of possible worlds, what then are the others? Well, if I had been only whipped, I could put up with it, for I experienced that among the Bulgarians. But, oh, my dear Pangloss, thou greatest of philosophers that I should have seen you hanged without knowing for what? Oh, my dear Ana Baptist, thou best of men, that thou shouldst have been drowned in the very harbor. Oh, Miss Cunagonda, thou pearl of girls, that thou shouldst have had thy belly ripped open. Thus he was musing, scarce able to stand, preached at, whipped, absolved, and blessed, when an old woman accosted him, saying, My son, take courage and follow me. End Chapter 6 This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Candide by Voltaire recorded by Ted Lorne in Fort Mill, South Carolina during January 2007. This is a LibriVox recording. Candide by Voltaire. Chapter 7 How the Old Woman Took Care of Candide and How He Found the Object He Loved Candide did not take courage, but followed the Old Woman to a decayed house where she gave him a part of pomatum to anoint his sores, showed him a very neat little bed with a suit of clothes hanging up and left him something to eat and drink. Eat, drink, sleep, said she, and may our Lady of Atotcia, the great Saint Anthony of Padua and the great Saint James of Compostela received you under their protection. I shall be back tomorrow. Candide, amazed at all he had suffered and still more with the charity of the Old Woman, wished to kiss her hand. It is not my hand you must kiss, said the Old Woman. I shall be back tomorrow. Anoint yourself with the pomatum. Eat and sleep. Candide, notwithstanding so many disasters, ate and slept. The next morning the Old Woman brought him his breakfast. She looked at his back and rubbed it herself with another ointment. In like manner she brought him his dinner and at night she returned with his supper. The day following she went through the very same ceremonies. Who are you? said Candide. Who has inspired you with so much goodness? What return can I make you? The good woman made no answer. She returned in the evening, but brought no supper. Come with me, she said, I see nothing. She took him by the arm and walked with him about a quarter of a mile into the country. They arrived at a lonely house surrounded with gardens and canals. The Old Woman knocked at a little door. It opened, she led Candide up a private staircase into a small apartment, richly furnished. She left him on a brocaded sofa, shut the door and went away. He thought himself in a dream, indeed, that he had been dreaming unluckily all his life and that the present moment was the only agreeable part of it all. The Old Woman returned very soon, supporting with difficulty a trembling woman of a majestic figure, brilliant with jewels and covered with a veil. Take off that veil, said the Old Woman to Candide. The young man approaches. He raises the veil with a timid hand. What a moment! What surprise! He believes he beholds Miss Cunaganda? He really sees her. It is herself. His strength fails him. He cannot utter a word, but drops at her feet. Cunaganda falls upon the sofa. The Old Woman supplies a smelling bottle. They come to themselves and recover their speech. As they began with broken accents, with questions and answers interchangeably interrupted with sighs, with tears and cries, the Old Woman desired they would make less noise and then she left them to themselves. What is it you, said Candide? You live? I find you again in Portugal. Then you have not been ravished. Then they did not rip open your belly as Dr. Pangloss informed me. Yes, they did, said the beautiful Cunaganda, but those two accidents are not always mortal. But were your father and mother killed? It is but true, answered Cunaganda in tears. And your brother? My brother was also killed. And why are you in Portugal? And how did you know of my being here? And by what strange adventure did you contrive to bring me to this house? I will tell you all that, replied the Lady. But first of all let me know your history. Since the innocent kiss you gave me and the kicks which you received, Candide respectfully obeyed her, and though he was still in a surprise, though his voice was feeble and trembling, though his back still pained him, yet he gave her a most ingenuous account of everything that had befallen him since the moment of their separation. Cunaganda lifted up her eyes to heaven, shed tears upon hearing of the death of the good Anabaptist and of Pangloss, after which she spoke as follows to Candide, who did not lose a word and devoured her with his eyes. End Chapter 7 This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Candide by Voltaire. Red by Ted DeLorm and Fort Mill, South Carolina during January 2007. This is a LibriVox recording. Candide by Voltaire. Chapter 8 The History of Cunaganda I was in bed fast asleep, when it pleased God to send the Bulgarians to our delightful castle of Thunderton Trunk. They slew my father and brother and cut my mother in pieces. A tall Bulgarian, six feet high, perceiving that I had fainted away at this sight, began to ravish me. This made me recover. I regained my senses. I cried, I struggled, I bit, I scratched. I wanted to tear out the tall Bulgarian's eyes, not knowing that what happened at my father's house was the usual practice of war. The brute gave me a cut in the left side with his hanger and the mark is still upon me. Ah, I hope I shall see it," said Honest Candide. You shall, said Cunaganda, but let us continue. Do so, replied Candide. Thus she resumed the thread of her story. A Bulgarian captain came in, saw me all bleeding and the soldier not in the least disconcerted. The captain flew into a passion at the disrespectful behaviour of the brute and slew him on my body. He ordered my wounds to be dressed and took me to his quarters as a prisoner of war. I washed the few shirts that he had. I did his cooking. He thought me very pretty. He avowed it. On the other hand, I must own he had a good shape and a soft and white skin, but he had little or no mind or philosophy. And you might see plainly that he had never been instructed by Dr. Pangloss. In three months' time, having lost all his money and being grown tired of my company, he sold me to a Jew named Don Isacar who traded to Holland and Portugal and had a strong passion for women. This Jew was much attached to my person, but could not triumph over it. I resisted him better than the Bulgarian soldier. A modest woman may be ravished once, but her virtue is strengthened by it. In order to render me more tractable, he brought me to his country house. Hitherto I had imagined that nothing could equal the beauty of Thunder Tintronk Castle, but I found I was mistaken. The grand inquisitor, seeing me one day at mass, stared long at me and sent to tell me that he wished to speak on private matters. I was conducted to his palace where I acquainted him with the history of my family and he represented to me how much it was beneath my rank to belong to an Israelite. A proposal was then made to Don Isacar that he should resign me to my lord. Don Isacar, being the court banker and man of credit, would hear nothing of it. The inquisitor threatened him with an auto-defe. At last my Jew intimidated, concluded a bargain by which the house and myself should belong to both in common. The Jew should have for himself Monday, Wednesday and Saturday and the inquisitor should have the rest of the week. It is now six months since disagreement was made. Quarrels have not been wanting for they could not decide whether the night from Saturday to Sunday belong to the old law or to the new. For my part I have so far held out against both and I verily believe that this is the reason why I am still beloved. At length to avert the scourge of earthquakes and to intimidate Don Isacar, my lord inquisitor was pleased to celebrate an auto-defe. He did me the honour to invite me to the ceremony. I had a very good seat and the ladies were served with refreshments between Mass and the execution. I was in truth seized with horror at the burning of those two Jews and of the honest Biscayner who had married his godmother. But what was my surprise, my fright, my trouble when I saw in a San Benito and mitre a figure which resembled that of Pangloss? I rubbed my eyes. I looked at him attentively. I saw him hung. I fainted. Scarcely had I recovered my senses that I saw you stripped, stark naked, and this was the height of my horror, consternation, grief, and despair. I tell you truthfully that your skin is yet whiter and of a more perfect colour than that of my Bulgarian captain. This spectacle redoubled all the feelings which overwhelmed and devoured me. I screamed out and would have said Stop Barbarians! But my voice failed me and my cries would have been useless after you had been severely whipped. How is it possible, said I, that the beloved Candid and the wise Pangloss should both be at Lisbon, the one to receive a hundred lashes and the other to be hanged by the Grand Inquisitor of whom I am the well-beloved? Pangloss most cruelly deceived me when he said that everything in the world is for the best. Agitated, lost, sometimes beside myself and sometimes ready to die of weakness, my mind was filled with the massacre of my father, mother, and brother, with the insolence of the ugly Bulgarian soldier, with the stab that he gave me, with my servitude under the Bulgarian captain, with my hideous Don Issacar, with my abominable Inquisitor, with the execution of Dr. Pangloss, with the grand misery to which they whipped you and especially with the kiss I gave you behind the screen the day that I had last seen you. I praised God for bringing you back to me after so many trials and I charged my old woman to take care of you and to conduct you hither as soon as possible. She has executed her commission perfectly well. I have tasted the inexpressible pleasure of seeing you again, of hearing you, of speaking with you. But you must be hungry. For myself I am famished. Let us have supper. They both sat down to table and when supper was over they placed themselves once more on the sofa where they were when Sr. Don Issacar arrived. It was the Jewish Sabbath and Issacar had come to enjoy his rights and to explain his tender love. During January 2007 This is a LibriVox recording. Candid by Voltaire Chapter 9 What Became of Kunaganda Candid the Grand Inquisitor and the Jew This Issacar was the most choleric Hebrew that had ever been seen in Israel since the captivity in Babylon. What, said he, O beach of a Galilean! Was not the Inquisitor enough for thee? Must this rascal also share with me? In saying this he drew a long poignard which he always carried about him and not imagining that his adversary had any arms. He threw himself upon Candid but our honest Westphalian had received a handsome sword from the old woman along with the suit of clothes. He drew his rapier despite his gentleness and laid the Israelite stone dead upon the cushions at Kunaganda's feet. Holy Virgin, cried she, what will be come of us? A man killed in my apartment? If the officers of justice come, we are lost! Had not Panglas been hanged, said Candid, he would have given us good counsel in this emergency for he was a profound philosopher. Failing him, let us consult the old woman. She was very prudent and commenced to give her opinion when suddenly another little door opened. It was an hour after midnight. It was the beginning of Sunday. This day belonged to my lord the Inquisitor. He entered and saw the whipped Candid sword in hand, a dead man on the floor, Kunaganda aghast and the old woman giving counsel. At this moment the following is what passed in the soul of Candid and how he reasoned. If this holy man call in assistance he will surely have me burnt and Kunaganda will perhaps be served in the same manner. He was the cause of my being cruelly whipped. He is my rival and as I have now begun to kill I will kill away for there is no time to hesitate. This reasoning was clear and instantaneous so that without giving time to the Inquisitor to recover from his surprise he pierced him through and through and cast him beside the Jew. He yet again said Kunaganda now there is no mercy for us. We are excommunicated. Our last hour has come. How could you do it? You naturally so gentle to slay a Jew and apprelet in two minutes. My beautiful young lady responded Candid when one is a lover, jealous and whipped by the Inquisition one stops at nothing. The old woman then put in her word saying there are three Adelucian horses in the stable with bridles and saddles. Let the brave Candid get them ready. Madam has money, jewels. Let us therefore mount quickly on horseback though I can sit only on one buttock. Let us set out for Cadiz. It is the finest weather in the world and there is great pleasure in travelling in the cool of the night. Immediately Candid saddled the three horses and Kunaganda the old woman and he travelled thirty miles at a stretch. While they were journeying the holy brotherhood entered the house. My lord the Inquisitor was interred in a handsome church and Isacar's body was thrown upon a dung hill. Candid, Kunaganda and the old woman had now reached the little town of Avacena in the midst of the mountains of the Sierra Morena and were speaking as follows in a public inn. End Chapter 9 This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer please visit LibriVox.org. Candid by Voltaire read by Ted DeLorm and Fort Mill South Carolina during January 2007. This is a LibriVox recording. Candid by Voltaire Chapter 10 In what distress Candid, Kunaganda and the old woman arrived at Cadiz and of their embarkation. Who was it that robbed me of my money and jewels said Kunaganda all bathed in tears? How shall we live? What shall we do? Where find Inquisitors or Jews who will give me more? Yes, said the old woman. I have a shrewd suspicion of a reverent grave friar who stayed last night in the same inn with us at Padachos. God preserved me from judging rashly but he came into our room twice and he set out upon his journey long before us. Alas, said Candid, dear Pangloss has often demonstrated to me that the goods of this world are common to all men and that each has an equal right to them but according to these principles the Grey Friar ought to have left us enough to carry us through our journey. Have you nothing at all left, my dear Kunaganda? Not farthing, said she. What then must we do? said Candid. Sailed one of the horses, replied the old woman. I will ride behind Miss Kunaganda although I can hold myself only on one buttec and we shall reach Cadiz. In the same inn a dictine prier who bought the horse for a cheap price Candid, Kunaganda and the old woman having passed through Lucena, Chilas and Lebrixa arrived at length in Cadiz. A fleet was there getting ready and troops assembling to bring to reason the reverend Jesuit Fathers of Paraguay accused of having made one of the native tribes in the neighborhood of San Sacrament revolt against the kings of Spain and Portugal. Candid, having been in the Bulgarian service, performed the military exercise before the general this little army with so graceful an address with so intrepid an air and with such agility and expedition that he was given the command of a company of foot. Now he was a captain. He set sail with Miss Kunaganda the old woman, two valets and the two Andalusian horses which had belonged to the grand inquisitor of Portugal. During their voyage they reasoned a good deal on the philosophy of poor Panglas. We are going into another world said Candid and surely it must be there that all is for the best. For I must confess there is reason to complain a little of what passeth in our world in regard to both natural and moral philosophy. I love you with all my heart said Kunaganda but my soul is still full of fright at that which I have seen and experienced all will be well replied Candid. The sea of this new world is already better than our European sea. It is calmer, the winds more regular it is certainly the new world which is the best of all possible worlds. God grant it said Kunaganda but I have been so horribly unhappy there that my heart is almost closed to hope. You'll complain said the old woman. Alas you have not known such misfortunes as mine. Kunaganda almost broke out laughing finding the good woman very amusing for pretending to have been as unfortunate as she. Alas said Kunaganda my good mother unless you have been ravished by two Bulgarians have received two deep wounds in your belly have had two castles demolished have had two mothers cut to pieces before your eyes and two of your lovers whipped at an auto-defe. I do not conceive how you could be more unfortunate than I add that I was born a barrenness of seventy-two quarterings and have been a cook. Miss replied the old woman. You do not know my birth and were I to show you my backside. You would not talk in that manner but would suspend your judgment. This speech having raised extreme curiosity in the minds of Kunaganda and Candide the old woman spoke to them as follows. End Chapter 10 This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer please visit LibriVox.org Candide by Voltaire read by Ted DeLorm in Fort Mill, South Carolina during January, 2007. This is a LibriVox recording. Candide by Voltaire Chapter 11 History of the Old Woman I hate not always blear dyes and red eyelids. Neither did my nose always touch my chin nor was I always a servant. I am the daughter of Pope Urban X and of the Princess of Palestrina until the age of 14 I was brought up in a palace to which all the castles of your German barons would scarcely have served for stables and one of my robes was worth more than all the magnificence of failure. As I grew up I improved in beauty wit and every graceful accomplishment in the midst of pleasures, hopes and respectful homage. Already I inspired love. My throat was formed and such a throat, white, firm, shaped like that of the Venus of Medici and what eyes what eyelids, what black eyebrows, such flames darted from my dark pupils that they eclipsed the scintillation of the stars as I was told by the poets in our part of the world. My waiting women when dressing and undressing me used to fall into an ecstasy whether they viewed me before or behind. How glad would the gentlemen have been to perform that office for them. I was affianced to the most excellent prince of Massacarara, such a prince as handsome as myself sweet-tempered, agreeable, brilliantly witty and sparkling with love. I loved him as one loves for the first time with idolatry, with transport. The nuptials were prepared. There was surprising pomp and magnificence. There were feats, carousels, continual opera bouffe, and all Italy composed sonnets in my praise, though not one of them was passable. I was just upon the point of reaching the summit of bliss when an old Marchioness who had been mistressed to the prince, my husband invited him to drink chocolate with her. He died in less than two hours of most terrible convulsions. But this is only a beggar tale. My mother, in despair and scarcely less afflicted than myself, determined to absent herself for some time from so fatal a place. She had a very fine estate in the neighborhood of Gaetta. We embarked on board a galley of a country which was gilded like the great altar of St. Peter's at Rome. Assele Corsair swooped down and boarded us. Our men defended themselves like the Pope's soldiers. They flung themselves upon their bodies and threw down their arms begging of the Corsair an absolution in articular mortis. Instantly they were stripped as bare as monkeys. My mother, our maids of honor and myself were all served in the same manner. It is amazing with what expedition those gentry under us people. But what surprised me most was that they thrust their fingers into the part of our bodies which the generality of women were instrument, but pipes to enter. It appeared to me a very strange kind of ceremony. But thus one judges of things when one has not seen the world. I afterwards learned that it was to try whether we had concealed any diamonds. This is the practice established from time immemorial among civilized nations that scour the seas. I was informed that the very religious knights of Malta never fail to make this search when they take any Turkish prisoners of either sex. It is a law of nations from which they never deviate. I need not tell you how great a hardship it was for a young princess and her mother to be made slaves and carried to Morocco. You may easily imagine all we had to suffer on board the pirate vessel. My mother was still very handsome. Our maids of honor and our waiting women had more charms than are to be found in all Africa. As for myself I was ravishing, was exquisite grace itself and I was a virgin. I did not remain so long. This flower which had been reserved for the handsome prince of Masakara was plucked by the corsair captain. He was an abominable negro and yet believed that he did me a great deal of honor. Certainly the princess of Palestrina and myself must have been very strong to go through all that we experienced until our arrival in Morocco. But let us pass on. These are such common things as not to be worth mentioning. Morocco swam in blood when we arrived. Fifty sons of the Emperor Mule Ismail had each their adherents. This produced fifty civil wars of blacks against blacks and blacks against Tonys and Tonys against Tonys and mulattos against mulattos. In short it was a continual carnage throughout the empire. No sooner were we landed than the blacks of a contrary faction to that of my captain attempted to rob him of his booty. Next to jewels and gold we were the most valuable things he had. I was witness to such a battle as you have never seen in your European climate. The northern nations have not that heat in their blood nor that raging lust for women so common in Africa. It seems that your Europeans have only milk in your veins but it is vitriol, it is fire which runs in those of the inhabitants of Mount Atlas and the neighboring countries. They fought with the fury of lions, tigers and serpents of the country to see who should have us. Amour seized my mother by the right arm while my captain's lieutenant held her by the left. Amour's soldier had hold of her by one leg and one of our corselles held her by the other. Thus almost all our women were drawn in quarters by four men. My captain concealed me behind him and with his drawn scimitar cut and slashed everyone that opposed his fury. At length I saw all our Italian women and my mother herself torn mangled, massacred by the monsters who disputed over them. The slaves, my companions, those who had taken them soldiers, sailors, blacks, wise mulattoes and at last my captain all were killed and I remained dying on a heap of dead. Such scenes as this were transacted through an extent of three hundred leagues and yet they never missed the five prayers a day ordained by Mohammed. With difficulty I disengaged myself from such a heap of slaughtered bodies and crawled to a large orange tree on the bank of a neighbouring ribulet where I fell oppressed with fright, fatigue, horror, despair hunger. Immediately after my senses overpowered gave themselves up to sleep which was yet more swooning than repose. I was in this state of weakness and insensibility between life and death when I felt myself pressed by something that moved upon my body I opened my eyes and saw a white man of good countenance who sighed and who said between his teeth oce siagura de sere senza coglioni. End Chapter 11 This is LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer please visit LibriVox.org. Candid by Voltaire. Read by Ted DeLorm in Fort Mill, South Carolina during January 2007. This is a LibriVox recording. Candid by Voltaire. Chapter 12 The Adventures of the Old Woman Continued. Astonished and delighted to hear my native language and no less surprised at what this man said I made answer that there were much greater misfortunes than that of which he complained. I told him in a few words of the horrors which I had endured and fainted a second time. He carried me to a neighboring house, put me to bed, gave me food, waited on me, consoled me, flattered me. He told me that he had never seen anyone so beautiful as I and that he never so much regretted the loss of what it was impossible to recover. I was born at Naples, said he. There they galed to 3,000 children every year. Some die of the operation, others acquire a voice more beautiful than that of women and others are raised to offices of state. This operation was performed on me with great success and I was chapel musician to madame the princess of Palestrina. To my mother, cried I. Your mother, cried he, weeping, what? Can you be that young princess whom I brought up until the age of six years and who promised so early to be as beautiful as you. It is I indeed, but my mother lies four hundred yards hence torn in quarters under a heap of dead bodies. I told him all my adventures and he made me acquainted with his, telling me that he had been sent to the emperor of Morocco by a Christian power to conclude a treaty with that prince. In consequence of which he was to be furnished with military stores and ships to help to demolish the commerce of other Christian governments. My mission is done, said the honest eunuch. I go to embark for Guter and I will take you to Italy. Marches Yagura dei Seri sins a colp your knee. I thanked him with tears of commiseration. And instead of taking me to Italy he conducted me to Algiers where he sold me to the day. Scarcely was I sold and the plague which had made the tour of Africa, Asia and Europe broke out with great malignancy in Algiers. You have seen earthquakes, but pray me, have you ever seen the plague? Never, answered Cunagonda. If you had, said the old woman, you would acknowledge that it is far more terrible than an earthquake. It is common in Africa and I caught it. Imagine to yourself the distressed situation of the daughter of a pope only 15 years old who in less than three months had felt the miseries of poverty and slavery had been ravished almost every day, had beheld her mother drawn in quarters had experienced famine and war and was dying of the plague in Algiers. I did not die however but my eunuch and the day and almost the whole Sragliove Algiers perished. As soon as the first fury of this terrible pestilence was over a sale was made to the day's slaves. I was purchased by a merchant and carried to Tunis. This man sold me to another merchant who sold me again to another at Tripoli. From Tripoli I was sold to Alexandria from Alexandria to Smyrna and from Smyrna to Constantinople. At length I became the property of an aga of the Janissaries who was soon ordered away to the defense of Ezov by the Russians. The aga who was a very gallant man took his whole Sragliove with him and lodged us in a small fort on the palace Miltidis guarded by two black eunuchs and twenty soldiers. The Turks killed prodigious numbers of the Russians but the latter had their revenge. Ezov was destroyed by fire the inhabitants put to the sword neither sex nor age was spared until there remained only our little fort and the enemy wanted to starve us out. The twenty Janissaries had sworn they would never surrender. The extremities of famine to which they were reduced obliged them to eat our two eunuchs for fear of violating their oath and at the end of a few days they resolved also to devour the women. We had a very pious and humane who preached an excellent sermon exhorting them not to kill us all at once. Only cut off a buttock of each of those ladies said he and you'll fare extremely well if you must go to it again there will be the same entertainment a few days hence. Haven will accept of so charitable an action and send your relief. He had the great eloquence he persuaded them. Underwent this terrible operation the Iman applied the same balsam to us as he does to children after circumcision and we all nearly died. Scarcely had the Janissaries finished the repast with which we had furnished them then the Russians came in flat bottom boats not a Janissary escaped the Russians paid no attention to the condition we were in. There are French surgeons in all parts of the world one of them who was very clever took us under his care he cured us and as long as I live I shall remember that as soon as my wounds were healed he made proposals to me he bid us all be of good cheer telling us that the like had happened in many sieges and that it was according to the laws of war. As soon as my companions could walk they were obliged to set out for Moscow. I fell to the share of a boyard who made me his gardener and gave me 20 lashes a day but this nobleman having in two years time been broke upon the wheel along with 30 more boyards for some broils at court I profited by that event I fled I traversed all Russia it was a long time an in-holder servant at Riga the same at Rostock a smar at Leipzig at Kassel at Utrecht at Leiden at the Hague at Rotterdam I waxed old in misery and disgrace having only one half of my posteriors and always remembering I was a pope's daughter a hundred times I was upon the point of killing myself but still I loved life. This ridiculous foible is perhaps one of our most fatal characteristics for is there anything more absurd than to wish to carry continually a burden which one can always throw down to detest existence and yet to cling to one's existence in brief to caress the serpent which devours us till he has eaten our very heart in the different countries which it has been my lot to traverse and the numerous inns where I have been servant I have taken notice of a vast number of people who held their own existence in abhorrence and yet I never knew of more than eight who voluntarily put an end to their misery. Three negroes four Englishmen and a German professor named Robek I ended by being servant to the Jew Don Isakar who placed me near your presence my fair lady I am determined to share your fate and have been much more affected with your misfortunes than with my own I would never even have spoken to you of my misfortunes had you not peaked me a little and if it were not customary to tell stories on board a ship in order to pass away the time in short Miss Kunagonda I have had experience I know the world therefore I advise you to divert yourself and prevail upon each passenger to tell his story and if there be one of them all that has not cursed his life many a time that has not frequently looked upon himself as the unhappiest of mortals if you leave to throw me head foremost into the sea End Chapter 12 This is a LibriVox recording all LibriVox recordings are in the public domain for more information or to volunteer please visit LibriVox.org Candide by Voltaire read by Ted DeLorm in Fort Mill, South Carolina during January 2007 This is a LibriVox recording Candide by Voltaire Chapter 13 How Candide was forced away from his fair Kunagonda and the old woman The beautiful Kunagonda 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-defei he would tell us most amazing things in regard to the physical and moral evils that overspread the earth and sea and I should be able with due respect to make a few objections While each passenger was recounting the story, the ship made her way they landed at Buenos Aires Kunagonda, captain Candide and the old woman waited on the governor Don Fernando, Diabara and Figueroa and Mascarena and Lampordos and Sousa 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 swiftly raised his voice so unmercifully assumed so imperious and air and stalked with such intolerable pride that those who saluted him were strongly inclined to give him a good drumming Kunagonda 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 formally 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 Kunagonda said he is to do me the honour to marry me and we beseech your excellency to deign to sanction our marriage Don Fernando Diabara and Figueroa and Mascarena and Lampurdo and Susa 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 Kunagonda He declared his passion protesting he would marry her in the face of the church or otherwise just as should be agreeable to herself Kunagonda 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 Kunagonda Miss you have 72 quarterings and not a farthing it is now in your power to be wife to the greatest lord in South America very beautiful moustachios is it for you to pick yourself upon inviolable fidelity you have been ravished by Bulgarians a Jew and an inquisitor have enjoyed your favours Miss Fortune give 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 all the prudence which age and experience gave a small ship entered the port on board of which were an Alcald and his Alguaziles and this was what had happened as the old woman had shrewdly guessed it was a grey fryer who stole Kunagonda's money and jewels in the town of Badajoz when she and Candide were escaping the fryer wanted to sell some of the diamonds to a jeweler the jeweler knew them to be the grand inquisitors the fryer before he was hanged confessed he had stolen them he described the persons and the route they had taken the flight of Kunagonda and Candide was already known they were traced to Kadiz a vessel was immediately sent in pursuit of them the vessel was already in the port of Buenos Aires the report spread that the Alcalda was going to land and that he was in pursuit of the murderers the grand inquisitor the prudent old woman saw at once what was to be done you cannot run away she said to Kunagonda 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 not a moment to lose but how could he part from Kunagonda and where could he flee for shelter this is a LibriVox recording all LibriVox recordings are in the public domain for more information or to volunteer please visit LibriVox.org Candide by Voltaire read by Ted DeLorm and Fort Mill, South Carolina during January 2007 this is a LibriVox recording Candide by Voltaire Chapter 14 How Candide and Kakambo were received by the Jesuits of Paraguay 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 Tucumán he had been singing-boy Kassan, Sailor, Monk, Peddler soldier and lackey his name was Kakambo 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 Kunagonda must I leave you just at a time when the governor was going to sanction our nuptials Kunagonda brought to such a distance what will become of you she will do as well as she can said Kakambo the woman are never at a loss God provides for them let us run with her are thou carrying me where shall we go what shall we do without Kunagonda said Candide by Saint James of Compostela said Kakambo 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 I sure answered Kakambo I am a servant in the college of the Assumption and I'm 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 300 leagues in diameter and divided into 30 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 reach the first barrier Kakambo told the advanced guard that a captain wanted to speak with my lord the commandant this 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 Candid and Kakambo were disarmed and their two undilucian 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 spun tune in his hand he beckoned and straight away the newcomers 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 isn't where is the Reverend Father Provincial said Kakambo is upon the parade just after celebrating Mass answered the sergeant and you cannot kiss his spare still three hours hence however said Kakambo 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 Reverend Commandant since he is a German I may speak to him take him to my arbor 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 parriquettes hummingbirds, flybirds, 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 arbor he was a very handsome young man with a full face white skin but high in color he had an arched eyebrow a lively eye red ears, vermillion lips a bold air but such a boldness as neither belonged to a Spaniard nor a Jesuit they returned their arms to Candide and Cacombo and also the two Andalusian horses to whom Cacombo gave some oats to eat just by the arbor having an eye upon them all the while for fear of a surprise Candide first kissed the hymn 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-Tin-Tronk oh heavens is it possible? cried the Commandant 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 Cunagonda you that was slain by the Bulgarians you the barren son you a Jesuit in Paraguay I must confess there 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 Saint Ignatius a thousand times he clasped Candide in his arms and their faces were all bathed in tears you will be more surprised affected and transported said Candide when I tell you that Cunagonda your sister whom you believe to have been ripped open is in perfect health where? in your neighborhood with the Governor of Buenos Aires 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 this is a LibriVox recording Candide by Voltaire Chapter 15 How Candide killed the brother of his dear Cunagonda 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 I saw my mother and my sister ravished when the Bulgarians retired my dear sister could not be found but my mother, my father and myself with two maidservants 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 Jesuit 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 eyelid 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 Didrier 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 levees 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 tear-release and myself upon my arrival I was honored by the decanship and allutinancy I am today 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 Cunaganda is in the neighborhood with the governor of Buenos Aires 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 savior ah, perhaps said he we shall together my dear Candide enter the town as conquerors and recover my sister Cunaganda that is all I want said Candide for I intend to marry her and I still hope to do so whence replied the Baron would you have the impudence to marry my sister who has 72 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 deth thunder-tinned trunk 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 Jesuits belly but in pulling it out wreaking heart 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 Kakamba who stood sentry by the door of the arbor ran to him we have nothing more for it than to sell our lives as dearly as we can we have a master to him without doubt someone will soon enter the arbor and we must die sword in hand Kakamba 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 aloud in Spanish make way, make way for the reverend father colonel end chapter 15 this is a LibriVox recording all LibriVox recordings are in the public domain for more information or to volunteer please visit LibriVox.org Candide by Voltaire read by Ted DeLorm in Fort Mill South Carolina during January 2007 this is a LibriVox recording Candide by Voltaire Chapter 16 Adventures of the Two Travelers with two girls two monkeys and the savages called O'rylon's Candide and his valet had got beyond the barrier before it was known in the camp that the German Jesuit was dead the wary Kakambo 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 are two adventurers fed their horses 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 barren son and being doomed never more to see the beautiful Kunaganda 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 Trevose say he was thus lamenting his fate he went on eating the son 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 they 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 fusel, let it off and killed the two monkeys God be praised my dear Kakambo he 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 Kakambo 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 Kakambo I can never believe it dear master, replied Kakambo 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 Sintar's fawns 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 Kakambo 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 Kakambo and after cursing the Portuguese Inquisitor the governor of Buenos Aires and the Baron they fell asleep on moss on awakening they felt that they could not move for during the night the Orylons 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 Orylons armed with bows and arrows with clubs and flint hatchets and 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 I told you my dear master cried Kakambo 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 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 Kunaganda and to be put on a spit by Orylons Kakambo never lost his head do not despair said he to the disconsulate Candide I understand a little of the jargon of these people I will speak to them be sure said Candide how frightfully inhuman it is to cook men and how very un-Christian gentlemen said Kakambo you reckon you are today 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 neighbor 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 this gentleman is my master and far from being a Jesuit he has just killed one whose spoils he wears and then 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 the truth you are too well acquainted with the principles of public law humanity and justice not to pardon us the Orilons 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 since and soon returned with good news the Orilons untied their prisoners showed them all sorts of abilities 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 Cunaganda'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 End Chapter 16 This is a LibriVox recording all LibriVox recordings are in the public domain for more information or to volunteer please visit LibriVox.org Candide by Voltaire read by Ted DeLore