At the bottom of his heart Candide had no wish to marry Cunegonde. But the extreme impertinence of the Baron determined him to conclude the match, and Cunegonde pressed him so strongly that he could not go from his word. He consulted Pangloss, Martin, and the faithful Cacambo. Pangloss drew up an excellent memorial, wherein he proved that the Baron had no right over his sister, and that according to all the laws of the empire, she might marry Candide with her left hand. Martin was for throwing the Baron into the sea; Cacambo decided that it would be better to deliver him up again to the captain of the galley, after which they thought to send him back to the General Father of the Order at Rome by the first ship. This advice was well received, the old woman approved it; they said not a word to his sister; the thing was executed for a little money, and they had the double pleasure of entrapping a Jesuit, and punishing the pride of a German baron.
Deep down, Candide did not want to marry Cunegonde. But the Baron's extreme arrogance forced him to agree to the marriage. Cunegonde pressed him so hard he could not break his word. He consulted Pangloss, Martin, and the faithful Cacambo. Pangloss wrote an excellent memorandum. In it he argued that the Baron had no right over his sister. He showed that by the laws of the empire she could marry Candide "with her left hand." Martin wanted to throw the Baron into the sea. Cacambo thought it better to hand him back to the galley captain. After that, they planned to send him to the General Father of the Order at Rome. They would use the first ship. This plan was well received. The old woman approved it. They said nothing to his sister. They carried it out for a small sum of money. They enjoyed two pleasures: entrapping a Jesuit and punishing the pride of a German baron.
It is natural to imagine that after so many disasters Candide married, and living with the philosopher Pangloss, the philosopher Martin, the prudent Cacambo, and the old woman, having besides brought so many diamonds from the country of the ancient Incas, must have led a very happy life. But he was so much imposed upon by the Jews that he had nothing left except his small farm; his wife became uglier every day, more peevish and unsupportable; the old woman was infirm and even more fretful than Cunegonde. Cacambo, who worked in the garden, and took vegetables for sale to Constantinople, was fatigued with hard work, and cursed his destiny. Pangloss was in despair at not shining in some German university. For Martin, he was firmly persuaded that he would be as badly off elsewhere, and therefore bore things patiently. Candide, Martin, and Pangloss sometimes disputed about morals and metaphysics. They often saw passing under the windows of their farm boats full of Effendis, Pashas, and Cadis, who were going into banishment to Lemnos, Mitylene, or Erzeroum. And they saw other Cadis, Pashas, and Effendis coming to supply the place of the exiles, and afterwards exiled in their turn. They saw heads decently impaled for presentation to the Sublime Porte. Such spectacles as these increased the number of their dissertations; and when they did not dispute time hung so heavily upon their hands, that one day the old woman ventured to say to them:
After so many disasters, Candide married. He lived with the philosopher Pangloss, the philosopher Martin, the prudent Cacambo, and the old woman. Besides, he had brought so many diamonds from the country of the ancient Incas. It is natural to imagine that he must have led a very happy life. But the Jews cheated him so badly that he had nothing left except his small farm. His wife grew uglier every day, more peevish and unbearable. The old woman was infirm and even more fretful than Cunegonde. Cacambo worked in the garden and took vegetables to Constantinople to sell. He was worn out with hard work and cursed his fate. Pangloss was in despair at not shining in some German university. As for Martin, he was firmly convinced that he would be just as badly off anywhere else, and so he bore things patiently. Candide, Martin, and Pangloss sometimes argued about morals and metaphysics. Under the windows of their farm they often saw boats pass, full of Effendis, Pashas, and Cadis who were going into exile in Lemnos, Mitylene, or Erzeroum. They saw other Cadis, Pashas, and Effendis come to take the exiles' places, and later be exiled in their turn. They saw heads decently impaled for presentation to the Sublime Porte. Such sights increased the number of their debates. When they were not arguing, time hung so heavily on their hands that one day the old woman ventured to say to them:
"I want to know which is worse, to be ravished a hundred times by negro pirates, to have a buttock cut off, to run the gauntlet among the Bulgarians, to be whipped and hanged at an auto-da-fé, to be dissected, to row in the galleys—in short, to go through all the miseries we have undergone, or to stay here and have nothing to do?"
"I want to know which is worse. To be raped a hundred times by black pirates. To have a buttock cut off. To run the gauntlet among the Bulgarians. To be whipped and hanged at an auto-da-fé. To be dissected. To row in the galleys. In short, is it worse to go through all the miseries we have endured, or to stay here and do nothing?"
"It is a great question," said Candide.
"That's a big question," said Candide.
This discourse gave rise to new reflections, and Martin especially concluded that man was born to live either in a state of distracting inquietude or of lethargic disgust. Candide did not quite agree to that, but he affirmed nothing. Pangloss owned that he had always suffered horribly, but as he had once asserted that everything went wonderfully well, he asserted it still, though he no longer believed it.
The discussion led to new thoughts. Martin in particular concluded this. He said people are born to live either in restless anxiety or in dull disgust. Candide did not fully agree, but he said nothing. Pangloss admitted he had always suffered terribly. He had once claimed that everything was for the best. He kept saying so, even though he no longer believed it.
What helped to confirm Martin in his detestable principles, to stagger Candide more than ever, and to puzzle Pangloss, was that one day they saw Paquette and Friar Giroflée land at the farm in extreme misery. They had soon squandered their three thousand piastres, parted, were reconciled, quarrelled again, were thrown into gaol, had escaped, and Friar Giroflée had at length become Turk. Paquette continued her trade wherever she went, but made nothing of it.
What helped to confirm Martin in his detestable principles, to stagger Candide more than ever, and to puzzle Pangloss, was this. One day they saw Paquette and Friar Giroflée land at the farm in extreme misery. They had soon squandered their three thousand piastres. They had parted, made up, quarreled again, been thrown into jail, and escaped. At last Friar Giroflée had become a Turk. Paquette kept up her trade wherever she went, but made nothing from it.
"I foresaw," said Martin to Candide, "that your presents would soon be dissipated, and only make them the more miserable. You have rolled in millions of money, you and Cacambo; and yet you are not happier than Friar Giroflée and Paquette."
"I foresaw," said Martin to Candide, "that your gifts would soon be wasted. They would only make the recipients more miserable. You and Cacambo have been rolling in millions. Yet you are not happier than Friar Giroflée and Paquette."
"Ha!" said Pangloss to Paquette, "Providence has then brought you amongst us again, my poor child! Do you know that you cost me the tip of my nose, an eye, and an ear, as you may see? What a world is this!"
"Ha!" said Pangloss to Paquette, "Providence has brought you back among us, my poor child! Do you know you cost me the tip of my nose, an eye, and an ear? You can see that for yourself. What a world this is!"
And now this new adventure set them philosophising more than ever.
Now this new adventure made them philosophize more than ever.
In the neighbourhood there lived a very famous Dervish who was esteemed the best philosopher in all Turkey, and they went to consult him. Pangloss was the speaker.
Nearby lived a very famous dervish, considered the best philosopher in all of Turkey. They went to consult him. Pangloss was the speaker.
"Master," said he, "we come to beg you to tell why so strange an animal as man was made."
"Sir," he said, "we have come to ask you to explain why such a strange creature as man was made."
"With what meddlest thou?" said the Dervish; "is it thy business?"
"Why are you meddling?" said the Dervish. "Is it your business?"
"But, reverend father," said Candide, "there is horrible evil in this world."
"But, Reverend Father," Candide said. "There is terrible evil in this world."
"What signifies it," said the Dervish, "whether there be evil or good? When his highness sends a ship to Egypt, does he trouble his head whether the mice on board are at their ease or not?"
"What does it matter," said the Dervish, "whether there is evil or good? When his highness sends a ship to Egypt, does he trouble himself about whether the mice on board are comfortable or not?"
"What, then, must we do?" said Pangloss.
"Then what should we do?" said Pangloss.
"Hold your tongue," answered the Dervish.
"Be quiet," replied the Dervish.
"I was in hopes," said Pangloss, "that I should reason with you a little about causes and effects, about the best of possible worlds, the origin of evil, the nature of the soul, and the pre-established harmony."
"I was hoping," said Pangloss. "I wanted to reason with you a bit about causes and effects. Also about the best of all possible worlds. And about the origin of evil, the nature of the soul, and the pre-established harmony."
At these words, the Dervish shut the door in their faces.
Hearing this, the Dervish shut the door in their faces.
During this conversation, the news was spread that two Viziers and the Mufti had been strangled at Constantinople, and that several of their friends had been impaled. This catastrophe made a great noise for some hours. Pangloss, Candide, and Martin, returning to the little farm, saw a good old man taking the fresh air at his door under an orange bower. Pangloss, who was as inquisitive as he was argumentative, asked the old man what was the name of the strangled Mufti.
During this conversation, news spread that two Viziers and the Mufti had been strangled at Constantinople. Several of their friends had been impaled. The catastrophe caused a great stir for a few hours. Pangloss, Candide, and Martin returned to the little farm. There they saw a good old man getting some fresh air at his door under an orange bower. Pangloss was as inquisitive as he was argumentative. He asked the old man what the strangled Mufti's name was.
"I do not know," answered the worthy man, "and I have not known the name of any Mufti, nor of any Vizier. I am entirely ignorant of the event you mention; I presume in general that they who meddle with the administration of public affairs die sometimes miserably, and that they deserve it; but I never trouble my head about what is transacting at Constantinople; I content myself with sending there for sale the fruits of the garden which I cultivate."
"I do not know," answered the worthy man, "and I have never heard the name of any Mufti or any Vizier. I am completely ignorant of the event you mention. In general, I assume that those who meddle in public affairs sometimes die miserably, and that they deserve it. But I never trouble myself about what goes on in Constantinople. I am content to send the fruits of my garden there to sell."
Having said these words, he invited the strangers into his house; his two sons and two daughters presented them with several sorts of sherbet, which they made themselves, with Kaimak enriched with the candied-peel of citrons, with oranges, lemons, pine-apples, pistachio-nuts, and Mocha coffee unadulterated with the bad coffee of Batavia or the American islands. After which the two daughters of the honest Mussulman perfumed the strangers' beards.
After saying this, he invited the strangers into his house. His two sons and two daughters offered them several kinds of sherbet. They had made the sherbets themselves. They also served Kaimak, a clotted cream, enriched with candied citron peel. There were oranges, lemons, pineapples, and pistachio nuts. They served Mocha coffee, not mixed with the bad coffee of Batavia or the American islands. Then the two daughters of the honest Mussulman perfumed the strangers' beards.
"You must have a vast and magnificent estate," said Candide to the Turk.
"You must have a large, splendid estate," said Candide to the Turk.
"I have only twenty acres," replied the old man; "I and my children cultivate them; our labour preserves us from three great evils—weariness, vice, and want."
"I have only twenty acres," the old man replied. "My children and I farm them. Our work keeps us from three great evils: weariness, vice, and want."
Candide, on his way home, made profound reflections on the old man's conversation.
On his way home, Candide thought deeply about what the old man had said.
"This honest Turk," said he to Pangloss and Martin, "seems to be in a situation far preferable to that of the six kings with whom we had the honour of supping."
"This honest Turk," he said to Pangloss and Martin. "He seems to be in a situation much better than the six kings we dined with."
"Grandeur," said Pangloss, "is extremely dangerous according to the testimony of philosophers. For, in short, Eglon, King of Moab, was assassinated by Ehud; Absalom was hung by his hair, and pierced with three darts; King Nadab, the son of Jeroboam, was killed by Baasa; King Ela by Zimri; Ahaziah by Jehu; Athaliah by Jehoiada; the Kings Jehoiakim, Jeconiah, and Zedekiah, were led into captivity. You know how perished Crœsus, Astyages, Darius, Dionysius of Syracuse, Pyrrhus, Perseus, Hannibal, Jugurtha, Ariovistus, Cæsar, Pompey, Nero, Otho, Vitellius, Domitian, Richard II. of England, Edward II., Henry VI., Richard III., Mary Stuart, Charles I., the three Henrys of France, the Emperor Henry IV.! You know——"
"Grandeur," said Pangloss, "is extremely dangerous, according to the testimony of philosophers. For, in short, Eglon, King of Moab, was assassinated by Ehud. Absalom was hung by his hair and pierced with three darts. King Nadab, the son of Jeroboam, was killed by Baasa. King Ela was killed by Zimri, Ahaziah by Jehu, and Athaliah by Jehoiada. The Kings Jehoiakim, Jeconiah, and Zedekiah were led into captivity. You know how Crœsus, Astyages, Darius, Dionysius of Syracuse, Pyrrhus, Perseus, Hannibal, Jugurtha, Ariovistus, Cæsar, Pompey, Nero, Otho, Vitellius, Domitian, Richard II of England, Edward II, Henry VI, Richard III, Mary Stuart, Charles I, the three Henrys of France, and the Emperor Henry IV perished! You know..."
"I know also," said Candide, "that we must cultivate our garden."
"I also know," said Candide, "that we must tend our garden."
"You are right," said Pangloss, "for when man was first placed in the Garden of Eden, he was put there ut operaretur eum, that he might cultivate it; which shows that man was not born to be idle."
"You are right," said Pangloss. "When man was first placed in the Garden of Eden, he was put there ut operaretur eum. In other words, he was placed there to cultivate it. That shows man was not born to be idle."
"Let us work," said Martin, "without disputing; it is the only way to render life tolerable."
"Let's work without arguing," said Martin. "It's the only way to make life bearable."
The whole little society entered into this laudable design, according to their different abilities. Their little plot of land produced plentiful crops. Cunegonde was, indeed, very ugly, but she became an excellent pastry cook; Paquette worked at embroidery; the old woman looked after the linen. They were all, not excepting Friar Giroflée, of some service or other; for he made a good joiner, and became a very honest man.
The whole small household joined the project. Each person helped according to their abilities. Their small plot of land produced abundant crops. Cunegonde was, indeed, very ugly. She became an excellent pastry cook. Paquette did the embroidery. The old woman looked after the linens. Everyone, including Friar Giroflée, was useful. He proved a good carpenter and became a very honest man.
Pangloss sometimes said to Candide:
Pangloss would sometimes say to Candide:
"There is a concatenation of events in this best of all possible worlds: for if you had not been kicked out of a magnificent castle for love of Miss Cunegonde: if you had not been put into the Inquisition: if you had not walked over America: if you had not stabbed the Baron: if you had not lost all your sheep from the fine country of El Dorado: you would not be here eating preserved citrons and pistachio-nuts."
"There is a chain of events in this best of all possible worlds. If you had not been kicked out of that magnificent castle for loving Miss Cunegonde, you would not be here. If you had not been thrown into the Inquisition, you would not be here. If you had not walked across America, you would not be here. If you had not stabbed the Baron, you would not be here. If you had not lost all your sheep from the fine country of El Dorado, you would not be here. You would not be eating preserved citrons and pistachio nuts."
"All that is very well," answered Candide, "but let us cultivate our garden."
"That's all well and good," Candide said, "but let's cultivate our garden."