HOW CANDIDE WAS BROUGHT UP IN A MAGNIFICIENT
CASTLE AND HOW HE WAS DRIVEN THENCE
In the country of Westphalia, in the castle of the most noble Baron of
Thunder-ten-tronckh, lived a youth whom Nature had endowed with a most
sweet disposition. His face was the true index of his mind. He had a solid
judgment joined to the most unaffected simplicity; and hence, I presume, he
had his name of Candide. The old servants of the house suspected him to
have been the son of the Baron's sister, by a very good sort of a gentleman
of the neighborhood, whom that young lady refused to marry, because he
could produce no more than threescore and eleven quarterings in his arms;
the rest of the genealogical tree belonging to the family having been lost
through the injuries of time.
The Baron was one of the most powerful lords in Westphalia, for his castle
had not only a gate, but even windows, and his great hall was hung with
tapestry. He used to hunt with his mastiffs and spaniels instead of
greyhounds; his groom served him for huntsman; and the parson of the
parish officiated as his grand almoner. He was called "My Lord" by all his
people, and he never told a story but everyone laughed at it.
My Lady Baroness, who weighed three hundred and fifty pounds,
consequently was a person of no small consideration; and then she did the
honors of the house with a dignity that commanded universal respect. Her
daughter was about seventeen years of age, fresh-colored, comely, plump,
and desirable. The Baron's son seemed to be a youth in every respect
worthy of the father he sprung from. Pangloss, the preceptor, was the
oracle of the family, and little Candide listened to his instructions with all the
simplicity natural to his age and disposition.
Master Pangloss taught the metaphysico-theologo-cosmolonigology. He
could prove to admiration that there is no effect without a cause; and, that in
this best of all possible worlds, the Baron's castle was the most magnificent
of all castles, and My Lady the best of all possible baronesses.
"It is demonstrable", said he, "that things cannot be otherwise than as they
are; for as all things have been created for some end, they must necessarily
be created for the best end. Observe, for instance, the nose is formed for
spectacles, therefore we wear spectacles. The legs are visibly designed for
stockings, accordingly we wear stockings. Stones were made to be hewn
and to construct castles, therefore My Lord has a magnificent castle; for the
greatest baron in the province ought to be the best lodged. Swine were
intended to be eaten, therefore we eat pork all the year round: and they,
who assert that everything is right, do not express themselves correctly; they
should say that everything is best."
Candide listened attentively and believed implicitly, for he thought Miss
Cunegonde excessively handsome, though he never had the courage to tell
her so. He concluded that next to the happiness of being Baron of
Thunder-ten-tronckh, the next was that of being Miss Cunegonde, the next
that of seeing her every day, and the last that of hearing the doctrine of
Master Pangloss, the greatest philosopher of the whole province, and
consequently of the whole world.
One day when Miss Cunegonde went to take a walk in a little neighboring
wood which was called a park, she saw, through the bushes, the sage
Doctor Pangloss giving a lecture in experimental philosophy to her mother's
chambermaid, a little brown wench, very pretty, and very tractable. As Miss
Cunegonde had a great disposition for the sciences, she observed with the
utmost attention the experiments which were repeated before her eyes; she
perfectly well understood the force of the doctor's reasoning upon causes
and effects. She retired greatly flurried, quite pensive and filled with the
desire of knowledge, imagining that she might be a sufficing reason for
young Candide, and he for her.
On her way back she happened to meet the young man; she blushed, he
blushed also; she wished him a good morning in a flattering tone, he
returned the salute, without knowing what he said. The next day, as they
were rising from dinner, Cunegonde and Candide slipped behind the
screen. The miss dropped her handkerchief, the young man picked it up.
She innocently took hold of his hand, and he as innocently kissed hers with
a warmth, a sensibility, a grace-all very particular; their lips met; their eyes
sparkled; their knees trembled; their hands strayed. The Baron chanced to
come by; he beheld the cause and effect, and, without hesitation, saluted
Candide with some notable kicks on the breech and drove him out of doors.
The lovely Miss Cunegonde fainted away, and, as soon as she came to
herself, the Baroness boxed her ears. Thus a general consternation was
spread over this most magnificent and most agreeable of all possible
castles.