There was never anything so gallant, so spruce, so brilliant, and so well disposed as the two armies. Trumpets, fifes, hautboys, 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.
There had never been anything so gallant, so neat, so brilliant, and so well arranged as the two armies. Trumpets, fifes, hautboys, drums, and cannon made music that even Hell had never heard. The cannons first flattened about six thousand men on each side. The muskets then swept away nine or ten thousand ruffians from this best of worlds. The bayonet was also a sufficient reason for the deaths of several thousand. The whole might total 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 Te 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 neighbouring 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, disembowelled and breathing their last after having satisfied the natural wants of Bulgarian heroes; while others, half burnt in the flames, begged to be despatched. The earth was strewed with brains, arms, and legs.
At length, the two kings had the Te Deum sung in their camps. Candide decided to go and think elsewhere about causes and effects. He walked over piles of dead and dying. He first reached a nearby village. It lay in ashes. It was an Abare village that the Bulgarians had burned, according to the laws of war. Old men covered with wounds watched their wives hug their children to their bloody breasts. The wives were massacred before their eyes. Their daughters lay disembowelled and dying. They had been forced to satisfy the sexual desires of Bulgarian "heroes." Others, half burned in the flames, begged to be killed. The ground 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 Cunegonde 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 Cunegonde's bright eyes were the cause of his expulsion thence.
Candide fled quickly to another village. It belonged to the Bulgarians. The Abarian heroes had treated it the same way. Candide walked over still-twitching bodies and across ruins. At last he reached beyond the seat of war. He had only a few provisions left in his knapsack. Miss Cunegonde was always in his heart. His supplies ran out when he reached Holland. He had heard everyone there was rich. He had also heard they were Christians. He thought they would treat him as the people at the Baron's castle had treated him. In that castle, Miss Cunegonde's bright eyes had caused his expulsion.
He asked alms 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.
He asked alms from several serious-looking people. They all told him this. If he kept doing that work, they would send him to the house of correction. There he would be taught to earn 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:
Next he spoke to a man who had been lecturing a large crowd for a full hour about charity. The orator, glancing sideways, said:
"What are you doing here? Are you for the good cause?"
"What are you doing here? Are you supporting the good cause?"
"There can be no effect without a cause," modestly answered Candide; "the whole is necessarily concatenated and arranged for the best. It was necessary for me to have been banished from the presence of Miss Cunegonde, 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."
"There can be no effect without a cause," Candide answered modestly. "Everything is necessarily connected and arranged for the best. It had to be that I was banished from Miss Cunegonde's presence. I later had to run the gauntlet. Now I must beg for my bread until I learn to earn it. None of this could be otherwise."
"My friend," said the orator to him, "do you believe the Pope to be Anti-Christ?"
"My friend," the orator asked him. "Do you believe the Pope is the Antichrist?"
"I have not heard it," answered Candide; "but whether he be, or whether he be not, I want bread."
"I haven't heard it," answered Candide. "But whether he is or is not, I want bread."
"Thou dost not deserve to eat," said the other. "Begone, rogue; begone, wretch; do not come near me again."
"You do not deserve to eat," the other said. "Go away, rogue. Go away, 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 Anti-Christ, poured over him a full.... Oh, heavens! to what excess does religious zeal carry the ladies.
The orator's wife put her head out of the window. Spying a man who doubted whether the Pope was the Antichrist, she poured over him a full.... Oh, heavens! To what excess religious zeal carries 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 unfeathered 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:
A man named James was a good Anabaptist who had never been christened. He saw the cruel and shameful treatment of one of his brethren, a featherless biped with a rational soul. He took him home and cleaned him. He gave him bread and beer. He gave him two florins. He even wanted to teach him how to make Persian cloth as they do in Holland. Candide, almost falling to his knees 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."
"Master Pangloss was right to say that all is for the best in this world. For I am infinitely more touched by your extreme generosity than by the inhumanity of that gentleman in the black coat and his wife."
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.
The next day, while he was walking, he met a beggar covered in scabs. His eyes were diseased, and the tip of his nose had been eaten away. His mouth was distorted, and his teeth were black. He was choking and tormented by a violent cough. With every cough he spat out a tooth.