Voltaire · Complete work
Chapter XIV
Chapter XIV of 30. Read it here for reference, or continue through the entire work without leaving the reader.
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Comment Candide et Cacambo furent reçus chez les jésuites du Paraguai.
Candide avait amené de Cadix un valet tel qu’on en trouve beaucoup sur les côtes d’Espagne et dans les colonies. C’était un quart d’Espagnol, né d’un métis dans le Tucuman; il avait été enfant de choeur, sacristain, matelot, moine, facteur, soldat, laquais. Il s’appelait Cacambo, et aimait fort son maître, parceque son maître était un fort bon homme. Il sella au plus vite les deux chevaux andalous. Allons, mon maître, suivons le conseil de la vieille, partons, et courons sans regarder derrière nous. Candide versa des larmes: O ma chère Cunégonde! faut-il vous abandonner dans le temps que monsieur le gouverneur va faire nos noces! Cunégonde amenée de si loin, que deviendrez-vous? Elle deviendra ce qu’elle pourra, dit Cacambo; les femmes ne sont jamais embarrassées d’elles; Dieu y pourvoit; courons. Où me mènes-tu? où allons-nous? que ferons-nous sans Cunégonde? disait Candide. Par saint Jacques de Compostelle, dit Cacambo, vous alliez faire la guerre aux jésuites, allons la faire pour eux; je sais assez les chemins, je vous mènerai dans leur royaume, ils seront charmés d’avoir un capitaine qui fasse l’exercice à la bulgare; vous ferez une fortune prodigieuse; quand on n’a pas son compte dans un monde, on le trouve dans un autre. C’est un très grand plaisir de voir et de faire des choses nouvelles.
Tu as donc été déjà dans le Paraguai? dit Candide. Eh vraiment oui! dit Cacambo; j’ai été cuistre dans le collège de l’Assomption, et je connais le gouvernement de los padres comme je connais les rues de Cadix. C’est une chose admirable que ce gouvernement. Le royaume a déjà plus de trois cents lieues de diamètre; il est divisé en trente provinces. Los padres y ont tout, et les peuples rien; c’est le chef-d’oeuvre de la raison et de la justice. Pour moi, je ne vois rien de si divin que los padres, qui font ici la guerre au roi d’Espagne et au roi de Portugal, et qui en Europe confessent ces rois; qui tuent ici des Espagnols, et qui à Madrid les envoient au ciel; cela me ravit; avançons: vous allez être le plus heureux de tous les hommes. Quel plaisir auront los padres, quand ils sauront qu’il leur vient un capitaine qui sait l’exercice bulgare!
Dès qu’ils furent arrivés à la première barrière, Cacambo dit à la garde avancée qu’un capitaine demandait à parler à monseigneur le commandant. On alla avertir la grande garde. Un officier paraguain courut aux pieds du commandant lui donner part de la nouvelle. Candide et Cacambo furent d’abord désarmés; on se saisit de leurs deux chevaux andalous. Les deux étrangers sont introduits au milieu de deux files de soldats; le commandant était au bout, le bonnet à trois cornes en tête, la robe retroussée, l’épée au côté, l’esponton à la main. Il fit un signe; aussitôt vingt-quatre soldats entourent les deux nouveaux venus. Un sergent leur dit qu’il faut attendre, que le commandant ne peut leur parler, que le révérend père provincial ne permet pas qu’aucun Espagnol ouvre la bouche qu’en sa présence, et demeure plus de trois heures dans le pays. Et où est le révérend père provincial? dit Cacambo. Il est à la parade après avoir dit sa messe, répondit le sergent, et vous ne pourrez baiser ses éperons que dans trois heures. Mais, dit Cacambo, monsieur le capitaine, qui meurt de faim comme moi, n’est point Espagnol, il est Allemand; ne pourrions-nous point déjeuner en attendant sa révérence?
Le sergent alla sur-le-champ rendre compte de ce discours au commandant. Dieu soit béni! dit ce seigneur, puisqu’il est Allemand, je peux lui parler; qu’on le mène dans ma feuillée. Aussitôt on conduit Candide dans un cabinet de verdure, orné d’une très jolie colonnade de marbre vert et or, et de treillages qui renfermaient des perroquets, des colibris, des oiseaux-mouches, des pintades, et tous les oiseaux les plus rares. Un excellent déjeuner était préparé dans des vases d’or; et tandis que les Paraguains mangèrent du maïs dans des écuelles de bois, en plein champ, à l’ardeur du soleil, le révérend père commandant entra dans la feuillée.
C’était un très beau jeune homme, le visage plein, assez blanc, haut en couleur, le sourcil relevé, l’oeil vif, l’oreille rouge, les lèvres vermeilles, l’air fier, mais d’une fierté qui n’était ni celle d’un Espagnol ni celle d’un jésuite. On rendit à Candide et à Cacambo leurs armes, qu’on leur avait saisies, ainsi que les deux chevaux andalous; Cacambo leur fit manger l’avoine auprès de la feuillée, ayant toujours l’oeil sur eux, crainte de surprise.
Candide baisa d’abord le bas de la robe du commandant, ensuite ils se mirent à table. Vous êtes donc Allemand? lui dit le jésuite en cette langue. Oui, mon révérend père, dit Candide. L’un et l’autre, en prononçant ces paroles, se regardaient avec une extrême surprise, et une émotion dont ils n’étaient pas les maîtres. Et de quel pays d’Allemagne êtes-vous? dit le jésuite. De la sale province de Vestphalie, dit Candide: je suis né dans le château de Thunder-ten-tronckh. O ciel! est-il possible! s’écria le commandant. Quel miracle! s’écria Candide. Serait-ce vous? dit le commandant. Cela n’est pas possible, dit Candide. Ils se laissent tomber tous deux à la renverse, ils s’embrassent, ils versent des ruisseaux de larmes. Quoi! serait-ce vous, mon révérend père? vous, le frère de la belle Cunégonde! vous qui fûtes tué par les Bulgares! vous le fils de monsieur le baron! vous jésuite au Paraguai! Il faut avouer que ce monde est une étrange chose. O Pangloss! Pangloss! que vous sériez aise si vous n’aviez pas été pendu!
Le commandant fit retirer les esclaves nègres et les Paraguains qui servaient à boire dans des gobelets de cristal de roche. Il remercia Dieu et saint Ignace mille fois; il serrait Candide entre ses bras, leurs visages étaient baignés de pleurs. Vous seriez bien plus étonné, plus attendri, plus hors de vous-même, dit Candide, si je vous disais que mademoiselle Cunégonde, votre soeur, que vous avez crue éventrée, est pleine de santé.—Où?—Dans votre voisinage, chez M. le gouverneur de Buénos-Ayres; et je venais pour vous faire la guerre. Chaque mot qu’ils prononcèrent dans cette longue conversation accumulait prodige sur prodige. Leur âme tout entière volait sur leur langue, était attentive dans leurs oreilles, et étincelante dans leurs yeux. Comme ils étaient Allemands, ils tinrent table long-temps, en attendant le révérend père provincial; et le commandant parla ainsi à son cher Candide.
Musean translation
Mouseia’s complete machine-assisted Musean translation, made directly from the French text of all thirty chapters (Beuchot edition, 1829) for fidelity, the author’s force and cadence, and modern clarity. The editor’s notes are omitted.
How Candide and Cacambo Were Received by the Jesuits of Paraguay.
Candide had brought from Cádiz a servant of a sort common on the coasts of Spain and in the colonies. He was one-quarter Spanish, born to a man of mixed ancestry in Tucumán; he had been a choirboy, a sacristan, a sailor, a monk, a courier, a soldier, and a footman. His name was Cacambo, and he was very fond of his master, because his master was a very good man. He saddled the two Andalusian horses as quickly as he could. “Come, master, let us follow the old woman’s advice: let us leave, and ride without looking back.” Candide burst into tears. “Oh, my dear Cunégonde! Must I abandon you just as the governor is about to celebrate our wedding? Cunégonde, brought from so far away, what will become of you?” “She will manage as best she can,” said Cacambo. “Women are never at a loss what to do with themselves; God looks after them. Let us ride.” “Where are you taking me? Where are we going? What shall we do without Cunégonde?” said Candide. “By Saint James of Compostela,” said Cacambo, “you were going to fight the Jesuits; let us fight for them instead. I know the roads well enough; I shall take you into their kingdom. They will be delighted to have a captain who can drill troops in the Bulgarian manner; you will make an immense fortune. When a man does not find what he deserves in one world, he finds it in another. It is a great pleasure to see and do new things.”
“Have you been to Paraguay before, then?” said Candide. “Why, indeed I have!” said Cacambo. “I was an assistant at the college of the Assumption, and I know the government of los padres as well as I know the streets of Cádiz. That government is a marvelous thing. The kingdom is already more than three hundred leagues across; it is divided into thirty provinces. Los padres have everything there, and the people nothing; it is a masterpiece of reason and justice. For my part, I see nothing so divine as los padres: here they make war on the king of Spain and the king of Portugal, while in Europe they hear those kings’ confessions; here they kill Spaniards, while in Madrid they send them to heaven. I am enchanted by it. Onward: you are about to be the happiest man alive. What pleasure los padres will take in learning that a captain who knows the Bulgarian drill is coming to them!”
As soon as they reached the first barrier, Cacambo told the advance guard that a captain wished to speak with his lordship the commandant. Word was sent to the main guard. A Paraguayan officer ran to the commandant’s feet to give him the news. Candide and Cacambo were disarmed at once; their two Andalusian horses were seized. The two strangers were brought between two ranks of soldiers; at the far end stood the commandant, a three-cornered hat on his head, his robe tucked up, a sword at his side, a half-pike in his hand. He gave a signal; immediately twenty-four soldiers surrounded the newcomers. A sergeant told them they must wait: the commandant could not speak to them, and the reverend father provincial did not permit any Spaniard to open his mouth except in his presence, or to remain in the country for more than three hours. “And where is the reverend father provincial?” said Cacambo. “At the parade, after saying his Mass,” replied the sergeant, “and you will not be allowed to kiss his spurs for another three hours.” “But,” said Cacambo, “the captain, who is as hungry as I am, is not Spanish: he is German. Could we not have breakfast while we wait for his reverence?”
The sergeant immediately went to report these words to the commandant. “God be praised!” said that lord. “Since he is German, I can speak to him; bring him to my arbor.” Candide was led at once into a leafy bower, adorned with a lovely colonnade of green and gold marble and with trellises enclosing parrots, hummingbirds, tiny birds, guinea fowl, and all the rarest birds. An excellent breakfast had been laid out in gold vessels; and while the Paraguayans ate corn from wooden bowls in the open field under the blazing sun, the reverend father commandant entered the bower.
He was a very handsome young man, with a full face, fairly pale but flushed with color, arched eyebrows, lively eyes, red ears, crimson lips, and a proud bearing—but a pride neither Spanish nor Jesuit. Candide and Cacambo were given back their weapons, which had been confiscated, as well as their two Andalusian horses. Cacambo fed the horses oats beside the bower, never taking his eyes off them for fear of a surprise.
Candide first kissed the hem of the commandant’s robe, and then they sat down to eat. “So you are German?” the Jesuit asked him in that language. “Yes, reverend father,” said Candide. As they spoke, each looked at the other with the utmost astonishment and an emotion neither could control. “And from what part of Germany do you come?” said the Jesuit. “From the wretched province of Westphalia,” said Candide. “I was born in the castle of the Baron of Thunder-ten-tronckh.” “Heavens! Can it be?” cried the commandant. “What a miracle!” cried Candide. “Is it really you?” said the commandant. “It cannot be,” said Candide. Both fell back, embraced, and shed torrents of tears. “What! Can it be you, reverend father? You, the brother of the lovely Cunégonde! You, who were killed by the Bulgarians! You, the baron’s son! You, a Jesuit in Paraguay! I must admit the world is a strange place. Oh, Pangloss! Pangloss! How delighted you would be if you had not been hanged!”
The commandant sent away the enslaved Black people and the Paraguayans who were serving drinks in rock-crystal goblets. He thanked God and Saint Ignatius a thousand times; he clasped Candide in his arms, and both their faces were wet with tears. “You would be far more astonished, more moved, more overcome,” said Candide, “if I told you that your sister, Mademoiselle Cunégonde, whom you believed had been disemboweled, is in perfect health.” “Where?” “Nearby, at the home of the governor of Buenos Aires; and I was coming here to make war on you.” Every word they uttered in that long conversation piled marvel upon marvel. Their whole souls rushed to their tongues, listened through their ears, and sparkled in their eyes. Being Germans, they lingered long over the meal as they waited for the reverend father provincial; and the commandant spoke to his dear Candide as follows.
Plain English translation
Mouseia’s complete Plain English edition, made independently and directly from the French text of all thirty chapters (Beuchot edition, 1829). The editor’s notes are omitted.
How Candide and Cacambo were received by the Jesuits in Paraguay.
Candide had brought a servant from Cadiz, the kind often found along the Spanish coast and in the colonies. His father was of mixed ancestry, and he was one-quarter Spanish. He was born in Tucuman. He had been a choirboy, a sexton, a sailor, a monk, a courier, a soldier, and a footman. His name was Cacambo. He was very fond of his master, because his master was a very good man. He saddled the two Andalusian horses as fast as he could. “Come on, master. Let's take the old woman's advice. Let's leave and ride without looking back.” Candide burst into tears. “Oh, my dear Cunégonde! Must I abandon you just as the governor is about to marry us? We brought you so far, Cunégonde. What will happen to you?” “She'll manage somehow,” said Cacambo. “Women always find a way to manage. God sees to it. Let's ride.” “Where are you taking me? Where are we going? What will we do without Cunégonde?” Candide asked. “By Saint James of Compostela,” said Cacambo, “you were going to fight the Jesuits. Let's fight for them instead. I know the roads well enough to take you into their kingdom. They'll be delighted to have a captain who can drill troops the Bulgarian way. You'll make an enormous fortune. If one part of the world doesn't give you what you need, you'll find it in another. It's a great pleasure to see and do new things.”
“So you've been to Paraguay before?” Candide asked. “Of course I have!” said Cacambo. “I was a school assistant at the College of the Assumption, and I know the government of los padres as well as I know the streets of Cadiz. It's a remarkable government. Their kingdom is already more than three hundred leagues across and divided into thirty provinces. Los padres have everything there, and the people have nothing. It's a masterpiece of reason and justice. I can't think of anything more divine than los padres. Here they fight the king of Spain and the king of Portugal, while in Europe they hear those kings' confessions. Here they kill Spaniards, while in Madrid they send Spaniards to heaven. I love it! Let's keep going. You'll be the happiest man alive. How pleased los padres will be when they hear that a captain who knows Bulgarian drill is coming!”
As soon as they reached the first checkpoint, Cacambo told the forward guards that a captain wanted to speak to the commander. Word was sent to the main guard. A Paraguayan officer ran to the commander, fell at his feet, and gave him the news. Candide and Cacambo were immediately disarmed, and their two Andalusian horses were seized. The two strangers were led between two lines of soldiers. At the far end stood the commander, wearing a three-cornered hat, his robe tucked up, a sword at his side, and a short spear in his hand. He made a sign. At once twenty-four soldiers surrounded the new arrivals. A sergeant told them they must wait: the commander could not speak to them. The reverend father provincial did not allow any Spaniard to open his mouth except in his presence, or to remain in the country for more than three hours. “And where is the reverend father provincial?” Cacambo asked. “He's at the parade after saying Mass,” replied the sergeant. “You won't be able to kiss his spurs for another three hours.” “But,” said Cacambo, “the captain here is as hungry as I am, and he isn't Spanish. He's German. Couldn't we have breakfast while we wait for his reverence?”
The sergeant went straight to the commander and reported what Cacambo had said. “God be praised!” said that gentleman. “Since he's German, I can speak to him. Bring him to my garden shelter.” Candide was immediately taken to a leafy room. It had a lovely colonnade of green and gold marble and trellises enclosing parrots, hummingbirds, guinea fowl, and every kind of rare bird. An excellent breakfast was ready, served in gold dishes. While the Paraguayans ate corn from wooden bowls out in the open under the blazing sun, the reverend father commander entered the shelter.
He was a very handsome young man, with a full face, fairly fair skin, rosy cheeks, raised eyebrows, bright eyes, red ears, and rosy lips. He carried himself proudly, but his pride was neither Spanish nor Jesuit in character. Candide and Cacambo were given back their weapons, which had been confiscated, and their two Andalusian horses as well. Cacambo fed the horses oats beside the shelter and kept an eye on them in case of trouble.
Candide first kissed the hem of the commander's robe, and then they sat down at the table. “So you're German?” the Jesuit asked him in German. “Yes, reverend father,” said Candide. As they spoke, each looked at the other with intense surprise. Neither could control his feelings. “And what part of Germany are you from?” asked the Jesuit. “The miserable province of Westphalia,” said Candide. “I was born in the castle of Thunder-ten-tronckh.” “Heavens! Can it be?” cried the commander. “What a miracle!” cried Candide. “Is it really you?” asked the commander. “It can't be,” said Candide. They both fell back, embraced each other, and wept floods of tears. “What! Is it really you, reverend father? You, the brother of beautiful Cunégonde? You, who were killed by the Bulgarians? You, the baron's son? You, a Jesuit in Paraguay? The world really is a strange place. Oh, Pangloss! Pangloss! How happy you'd be if you hadn't been hanged!”
The commander sent away the enslaved Black people and the Paraguayans who had been serving drinks in rock-crystal cups. He thanked God and Saint Ignatius a thousand times. He held Candide in his arms, and both their faces were wet with tears. “You'd be even more surprised, more moved, and more beside yourself,” said Candide, “if I told you that your sister, Miss Cunégonde, whom you thought had been disemboweled, is in perfect health.” “Where?” “Nearby, at the governor's home in Buenos Aires. And I was on my way to fight you.” Every word in their long conversation added one marvel to another. Their whole souls seemed to rush onto their tongues, listen through their ears, and shine from their eyes. Since they were Germans, they stayed at the table a long time while waiting for the reverend father provincial. Then the commander spoke to his dear Candide as follows.