The Most-Read Classics
Catalogue  /  Candide  /  Chapter 8
Candide · Voltaire

Chapter 8

CUNEGONDE'S STORY

I was in bed, and fast asleep, when it pleased Heaven to send the

Bulgarians to our delightful castle of Thunder-ten-tronckh, where they

murdered my father and brother, and cut my mother in pieces. A tall

Bulgarian soldier, six feet high, perceiving that I had fainted away at this

sight, attempted to ravish me; the operation brought me to my senses. I

cried, I struggled, I bit, I scratched, I would have torn the tall Bulgarian's

eyes out, not knowing that what had happened at my father's castle was a

customary thing. The brutal soldier, enraged at my resistance, gave me a

wound in my left leg with his hanger, the mark of which I still carry."

"Methinks I long to see it", said Candide, with all imaginable simplicity.

"You shall", said Cunegonde, "but let me proceed."

"Pray do", replied Candide.

She continued. "A Bulgarian captain came in, and saw me weltering in my

blood, and the soldier still as busy as if no one had been present. The

officer, enraged at the fellow's want of respect to him, killed him with one

stroke of his sabre as he lay upon me. This captain took care of me, had

me cured, and carried me as a prisoner of war to his quarters. I washed

what little linen he possessed, and cooked his victuals: he was very fond of

me, that was certain; neither can I deny that he was well made, and had a

soft, white skin, but he was very stupid, and knew nothing of philosophy: it

might plainly be perceived that he had not been educated under Dr.

Pangloss. In three months, having gambled away all his money, and having

grown tired of me, he sold me to a Jew, named Don Issachar, who traded in

Holland and Portugal, and was passionately fond of women. This Jew

showed me great kindness, in hopes of gaining my favors; but he never

could prevail on me to yield. A modest woman may be once ravished; but

her virtue is greatly strengthened thereby. In order to make sure of me, he

brought me to this country house you now see. I had hitherto believed that

nothing could equal the beauty of the castle of Thunder-ten-tronckh; but I

found I was mistaken.

"The Grand Inquisitor saw me one day at Mass, ogled me all the time of

service, and when it was over, sent to let me know he wanted to speak with

me about some private business. I was conducted to his palace, where I told

him all my story; he represented to me how much it was beneath a person

of my birth to belong to a circumcised Israelite. He caused a proposal to be

made to Don Issachar, that he should resign me to His Lordship. Don

Issachar, being the court banker and a man of credit, was not easy to be

prevailed upon. His Lordship threatened him with an auto-da-fe; in short, my

Jew was frightened into a compromise, and it was agreed between them,

that the house and myself should belong to both in common; that the Jew

should have Monday, Wednesday, and the Sabbath to himself; and the

Inquisitor the other four days of the week. This agreement has subsisted

almost six months; but not without several contests, whether the space from

Saturday night to Sunday morning belonged to the old or the new law. For

my part, I have hitherto withstood them both, and truly I believe this is the

very reason why they are both so fond of me.

"At length to turn aside the scourge of earthquakes, and to intimidate Don

Issachar, My Lord Inquisitor was pleased to celebrate an auto-da-fe. He did

me the honor to invite me to the ceremony. I had a very good seat; and

refreshments of all kinds were offered the ladies between Mass and the

execution. I was dreadfully shocked at the burning of the two Jews, and the

honest Biscayan who married his godmother; but how great was my

surprise, my consternation, and concern, when I beheld a figure so like

Pangloss, dressed in a sanbenito and mitre! I rubbed my eyes, I looked at

him attentively. I saw him hanged, and I fainted away: scarce had I

recovered my senses, when I saw you stripped of clothing; this was the

height of horror, grief, and despair. I must confess to you for a truth, that

your skin is whiter and more blooming than that of the Bulgarian captain.

This spectacle worked me up to a pitch of distraction. I screamed out, and

would have said, 'Hold, barbarians!' but my voice failed me; and indeed my

cries would have signified nothing. After you had been severely whipped, I

said to myself, 'How is it possible that the lovely Candide and the sage

Pangloss should be at Lisbon, the one to receive a hundred lashes, and the

other to be hanged by order of My Lord Inquisitor, of whom I am so great a

favorite? Pangloss deceived me most cruelly, in saying that everything is for

the best.'

"Thus agitated and perplexed, now distracted and lost, now half dead with

grief, I revolved in my mind the murder of my father, mother, and brother,

committed before my eyes; the insolence of the rascally Bulgarian soldier;

the wound he gave me in the groin; my servitude; my being a cook-wench

to my Bulgarian captain; my subjection to the hateful Jew, and my cruel

Inquisitor; the hanging of Doctor Pangloss; the Miserere sung while you

were being whipped; and particularly the kiss I gave you behind the screen,

the last day I ever beheld you. I returned thanks to God for having brought

you to the place where I was, after so many trials. I charged the old woman

who attends me to bring you hither as soon as was convenient. She has

punctually executed my orders, and I now enjoy the inexpressible

satisfaction of seeing you, hearing you, and speaking to you. But you must

certainly be half-dead with hunger; I myself have a great inclination to eat,

and so let us sit down to supper."

Upon this the two lovers immediately placed themselves at table, and, after

having supped, they returned to seat themselves again on the magnificent

sofa already mentioned, where they were in amorous dalliance, when Senor

Don Issachar, one of the masters of the house, entered unexpectedly; it

was the Sabbath day, and he came to enjoy his privilege, and sigh forth his

passion at the feet of the fair Cunegonde.