Voltaire · Complete work
Chapter XVII
Chapter XVII of 30. Read it here for reference, or continue through the entire work without leaving the reader.
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Arrivée de Candide et de son valet au pays d’Eldorado, et ce qu’ils y virent.
Quand ils furent aux frontières des Oreillons: Vous voyez, dit Cacambo à Candide, que cet hémisphère-ci ne vaut pas mieux que l’autre; croyez-moi, retournons en Europe par le plus court chemin. Comment y retourner, dit Candide; et où aller? Si je vais dans mon pays, les Bulgares et les Abares y égorgent tout; si je retourne en Portugal, j’y suis brûlé; si nous restons dans ce pays-ci, nous risquons à tout moment d’être mis en broche. Mais comment se résoudre à quitter la partie du monde que mademoiselle Cunégonde habite?
—Tournons vers la Cayenne, dit Cacambo, nous y trouverons des Français qui vont par tout le monde; ils pourront nous aider. Dieu aura peut-être pitié de nous.»
Il n’était pas facile d’aller à la Cayenne: ils savaient bien à peu près de quel côté il fallait marcher; mais des montagnes, des fleuves, des précipices, des brigands, des sauvages, étaient partout de terribles obstacles. Leurs chevaux moururent de fatigue; leurs provisions furent consumées; ils se nourrirent un mois entier de fruits sauvages, et se trouvèrent enfin auprès d’une petite rivière bordée de cocotiers qui soutinrent leur vie et leurs espérances.
Cacambo, qui donnait toujours d’aussi bons conseils que la vieille, dit à Candide: Nous n’en pouvons plus, nous avons assez marché; j’aperçois un canot vide sur le rivage, emplissons-le de cocos, jetons-nous dans cette petite barque, laissons-nous aller au courant; une rivière mène toujours à quelque endroit habité. Si nous ne trouvons pas des choses agréables, nous trouverons du moins des choses nouvelles. Allons, dit Candide, recommandons-nous à la Providence.
Ils voguèrent quelques lieues entre des bords, tantôt fleuris, tantôt arides, tantôt unis, tantôt escarpés. La rivière s’élargissait toujours; enfin elle se perdait sous une voûte de rochers épouvantables qui s’élevaient jusqu’au ciel. Les deux voyageurs eurent la hardiesse de s’abandonner aux flots sous cette voûte. Le fleuve resserré en cet endroit les porta avec une rapidité et un bruit horrible. Au bout de vingt-quatre heures ils revirent le jour; mais leur canot se fracassa contre les écueils; il fallut se traîner de rocher en rocher pendant une lieue entière; enfin ils découvrirent un horizon immense, bordé de montagnes inaccessibles. Le pays était cultivé pour le plaisir comme pour le besoin; partout l’utile était agréable: les chemins étaient couverts ou plutôt ornés de voitures d’une forme et d’une matière brillante, portant des hommes et des femmes d’une beauté singulière, traînés rapidement par de gros moutons rouges qui surpassaient en vitesse les plus beaux chevaux d’Andalousie, de Tétuan, et de Méquinez.
Voilà pourtant, dit Candide, un pays qui vaut mieux que la Vestphalie. Il mit pied à terre avec Cacambo auprès du premier village qu’il rencontra. Quelques enfants du village, couverts de brocarts d’or tout déchirés, jouaient au palet à l’entrée du bourg; nos deux hommes de l’autre monde s’amusèrent à les regarder: leurs palets étaient d’assez larges pièces rondes, jaunes, rouges, vertes, qui jetaient un éclat singulier. Il prit envie aux voyageurs d’en ramasser quelques uns; c’était de l’or, c’était des émeraudes, des rubis, dont le moindre aurait été le plus grand ornement du trône du Mogol. Sans doute, dit Cacambo, ces enfants sont les fils du roi du pays qui jouent au petit palet. Le magister du village parut dans ce moment pour les faire rentrer à l’école. Voilà, dit Candide, le précepteur de la famille royale.
Les petits gueux quittèrent aussitôt le jeu, en laissant à terre leurs palets, et tout ce qui avait servi à leurs divertissements. Candide les ramasse, court au précepteur et les lui présente humblement, lui fesant entendre par signes que leurs altesses royales avaient oublié leur or et leurs pierreries. Le magister du village, en souriant, les jeta par terre, regarda un moment la figure de Candide avec beaucoup de surprise, et continua son chemin.
Les voyageurs ne manquèrent pas de ramasser l’or, les rubis, et les émeraudes. Où sommes-nous? s’écria Candide. Il faut que les enfants des rois de ce pays soient bien élevés, puisqu’on leur apprend à mépriser l’or et les pierreries. Cacambo était aussi surpris que Candide. Ils approchèrent enfin de la première maison du village; elle était bâtie comme un palais d’Europe. Une foule de monde s’empressait à la porte, et encore plus dans le logis; une musique très agréable se fesait entendre, et une odeur délicieuse de cuisine se fesait sentir. Cacambo s’approcha de la porte, et entendit qu’on parlait péruvien; c’était sa langue maternelle; car tout le monde sait que Cacambo était né au Tucuman, dans un village où l’on ne connaissait que cette langue. Je vous servirai d’interprète, dit-il à Candide; entrons, c’est ici un cabaret.
Aussitôt deux garçons et deux filles de l’hôtellerie, vêtus de drap d’or, et les cheveux renoués avec des rubans, les invitent à se mettre à la table de l’hôte. On servit quatre potages garnis chacun de deux perroquets, un contour bouilli qui pesait deux cents livres, deux singes rôtis d’un goût excellent, trois cents colibris dans un plat, et six cents oiseaux-mouches dans un autre; des ragoûts exquis, des pâtisseries délicieuses; le tout dans des plats d’une espèce de cristal de roche. Les garçons et les filles de l’hôtellerie versaient plusieurs liqueurs faites de cannes de sucre.
Les convives étaient pour la plupart des marchands et des voituriers, tous d’une politesse extrême, qui firent quelques questions à Cacambo avec la discrétion la plus circonspecte, et qui répondirent aux siennes d’une manière à le satisfaire.
Quand le repas fut fini, Cacambo crut, ainsi que Candide, bien payer son écot, en jetant sur la table de l’hôte deux de ces larges pièces d’or qu’il avait ramassées; l’hôte et l’hôtesse éclatèrent de rire, et se tinrent long-temps les côtés. Enfin ils se remirent. Messieurs, dit l’hôte, nous voyons bien que vous êtes des étrangers; nous ne sommes pas accoutumés à en voir. Pardonnez-nous si nous nous sommes mis à rire quand vous nous avez offert en paiement les cailloux de nos grands chemins. Vous n’avez pas sans doute de la monnaie du pays, mais il n’est pas nécessaire d’en avoir pour dîner ici. Toutes les hôtelleries établies pour la commodité du commerce sont payées par le gouvernement. Vous avez fait mauvaise chère ici, parceque c’est un pauvre village, mais partout ailleurs vous serez reçus comme vous méritez de l’être. Cacambo expliquait à Candide tous les discours de l’hôte, et Candide les écoutait avec la même admiration et le même égarement que son ami Cacambo les rendait. Quel est donc ce pays, disaient-ils l’un et l’autre, inconnu à tout le reste de la terre, et où toute la nature est d’une espèce si différente de la nôtre? C’est probablement le pays où tout va bien; car il faut absolument qu’il y en ait un de cette espèce. Et, quoi qu’en dît maître Pangloss, je me suis souvent aperçu que tout allait assez mal en Vestphalie.
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.
Candide and His Servant Arrive in Eldorado, and What They Saw There.
When they reached the borders of the Oreillons’ land, Cacambo said to Candide, “You see that this hemisphere is no better than the other. Take my advice: let us return to Europe by the shortest route.” “How can we get back,” said Candide, “and where shall we go? If I go home, the Bulgarians and Avars are slaughtering everyone there; if I return to Portugal, I shall be burned; if we stay in this country, we risk being put on a spit at any moment. But how can I resolve to leave the part of the world where Mademoiselle Cunégonde lives?”
“Let us turn toward Cayenne,” said Cacambo. “There we shall find Frenchmen, who go all over the world; they may be able to help us. Perhaps God will take pity on us.”
It was not easy to reach Cayenne. They knew roughly which direction to take; but mountains, rivers, precipices, brigands, and hostile peoples were formidable obstacles everywhere. Their horses died of exhaustion; their provisions ran out; for an entire month they lived on wild fruit, and at last found themselves beside a little river lined with coconut palms, which sustained both their lives and their hopes.
Cacambo, who always gave advice as good as the old woman’s, said to Candide, “We cannot go any farther; we have walked enough. I see an empty canoe on the bank. Let us fill it with coconuts, get into the little boat, and let the current carry us: a river always leads to some inhabited place. If we do not find pleasant things, at least we shall find new ones.” “Come,” said Candide, “let us commend ourselves to Providence.”
They traveled several leagues between banks now flowering, now barren, now level, now steep. The river grew ever wider, until at last it vanished beneath an arch of terrifying rocks that rose to the sky. The two travelers had the courage to surrender themselves to the current beneath that arch. Confined there, the river carried them along with dreadful speed and noise. After twenty-four hours they saw daylight again; but their canoe smashed against the reefs, and they had to drag themselves from rock to rock for an entire league. At last they discovered an immense horizon bounded by impassable mountains. The land was cultivated for pleasure as well as for need; everywhere usefulness was beautiful. The roads were covered—or rather adorned—with carriages of shining materials and unusual design, bearing men and women of singular beauty and swiftly drawn by large red sheep that outstripped the finest horses of Andalusia, Tétouan, and Meknes.
“Now here,” said Candide, “is a country better than Westphalia.” He and Cacambo dismounted near the first village they came upon. Some village children, dressed in tattered gold brocade, were playing a game of quoits at the entrance to the village. Our two men from the other world stopped to watch them: their quoits were rather large round pieces, yellow, red, and green, which gleamed with a peculiar brilliance. The travelers felt tempted to pick up a few: they were gold, emeralds, and rubies, the least of which would have been the greatest ornament of the Mughal throne. “These children must be the king’s sons,” said Cacambo, “playing a little game of quoits.” Just then the village schoolmaster appeared to call them back to school. “That,” said Candide, “is the tutor of the royal family.”
The little rascals promptly abandoned their game, leaving their quoits and everything else they had played with on the ground. Candide picked them up, ran to the schoolmaster, and humbly offered them to him, making signs to show that their royal highnesses had forgotten their gold and precious stones. The village schoolmaster smiled, tossed them to the ground, stared at Candide’s face for a moment in great surprise, and went on his way.
The travelers made sure to gather up the gold, rubies, and emeralds. “Where are we?” cried Candide. “The children of this country’s kings must be very well brought up, since they are taught to scorn gold and precious stones.” Cacambo was as astonished as Candide. At last they approached the first house in the village; it was built like a palace in Europe. A crowd pressed around the doorway, and an even larger one was inside; delightful music could be heard, and a delicious aroma of cooking filled the air. Cacambo went up to the door and heard people speaking Peruvian; it was his native language, for everyone knows that Cacambo was born in Tucumán, in a village where no other language was known. “I shall interpret for you,” he told Candide. “Let us go in; this is an inn.”
Immediately two young men and two young women who worked at the inn, dressed in cloth of gold, their hair tied back with ribbons, invited them to sit at the host’s table. Four soups were served, each garnished with two parrots; a boiled condor weighing two hundred pounds; two roast monkeys of excellent flavor; three hundred hummingbirds on one platter and six hundred tiny birds on another; exquisite stews and delicious pastries, all served on dishes of a kind of rock crystal. The young men and women of the inn poured a variety of drinks made from sugarcane.
Most of the diners were merchants and wagon drivers, all exceedingly polite. They asked Cacambo a few questions with the greatest discretion and answered his own to his satisfaction.
When the meal was over, Cacambo, like Candide, thought he would pay generously for his share by tossing onto the host’s table two of the large gold pieces he had picked up. The host and hostess burst out laughing and held their sides for a long time. At last they recovered themselves. “Gentlemen,” said the host, “we can see that you are foreigners; we are not used to seeing any. Forgive our laughter when you offered us the pebbles from our roads as payment. No doubt you have none of the local currency, but you need none to dine here. All the inns established for the convenience of trade are paid for by the government. You have eaten poorly here, because this is a poor village, but everywhere else you will be received as you deserve.” Cacambo interpreted everything the host said for Candide, and Candide listened with the same wonder and bewilderment that his friend Cacambo felt as he translated. “What country can this be,” they both asked, “unknown to all the rest of the earth, where the whole of nature is so different from ours? It is probably the country where everything goes well; for there must surely be one such place. And, whatever Master Pangloss says, I have often noticed that things went rather badly in Westphalia.”
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.
Candide and his servant arrive in Eldorado, and what they see there.
When they reached the border of the Oreillons' territory, Cacambo said to Candide, “You see this half of the world is no better than the other. Take my advice: let's go back to Europe by the shortest route.” “How can we get back?” said Candide. “And where would we go? If I go home, the Bulgarians and the Avars are slaughtering everyone there. If I return to Portugal, they'll burn me. If we stay here, we risk being put on a spit at any moment. But how can I bring myself to leave the part of the world where Miss Cunégonde lives?”
“Let's head for Cayenne,” said Cacambo. “We'll find French people there, and they go all over the world. They may be able to help us. Perhaps God will take pity on us.”
Getting to Cayenne was not easy. They knew roughly which way to go, but mountains, rivers, cliffs, bandits, and hostile peoples stood in their way everywhere. Their horses died from exhaustion. Their supplies ran out. For a whole month they lived on wild fruit. At last they came to a small river lined with coconut palms, which kept them alive and gave them hope.
Cacambo always gave advice as good as the old woman's. He said to Candide, “We can't go on like this. We've walked enough. I can see an empty canoe on the bank. Let's fill it with coconuts, get into the little boat, and let the current carry us. A river always leads somewhere people live. If we don't find anything pleasant, at least we'll find something new.” “Let's go,” said Candide. “We'll put ourselves in the hands of Providence.”
They floated for several leagues between banks that were sometimes covered in flowers, sometimes barren, sometimes flat, and sometimes steep. The river kept widening. At last it disappeared beneath an enormous arch of frightening rocks that rose up to the sky. The two travelers dared to let the current carry them beneath the arch. The river narrowed there and swept them along with terrifying speed and noise. After twenty-four hours they saw daylight again. But their canoe broke apart against the reefs, and they had to crawl from rock to rock for a full league. At last they saw a vast stretch of country enclosed by mountains they could not climb. The land was cultivated for pleasure as well as for need. Everywhere, useful things were beautiful too. Vehicles of dazzling material and unusual design covered the roads, or rather decorated them. They carried remarkably beautiful men and women and were pulled swiftly by large red sheep. These sheep ran faster than the finest horses of Andalusia, Tetouan, and Meknes.
“Well,” said Candide, “here's a country better than Westphalia.” He and Cacambo got out beside the first village they came to. Some village children wearing torn gold brocade were playing a game of quoits at the entrance to the village. The two men from the other side of the world stopped to watch. The children's quoits were fairly large round pieces, yellow, red, and green, that shone in an unusual way. The travelers wanted to pick some up. They were gold, emeralds, and rubies. The smallest one would have been the finest decoration on the Mogul's throne. “No doubt these children are the local king's sons, playing quoits,” said Cacambo. Just then the village schoolmaster appeared to call them back to school. “There,” said Candide, “is the royal family's tutor.”
The little rascals immediately left the game, abandoning their quoits and everything else they had been playing with. Candide picked up the pieces, ran to the schoolmaster, and humbly offered them to him. By making signs, he explained that their royal highnesses had forgotten their gold and precious stones. The village schoolmaster smiled and threw them on the ground. He stared at Candide's face in great surprise for a moment and then went on his way.
The travelers made sure to pick up the gold, rubies, and emeralds. “Where are we?” cried Candide. “The children of this country's kings must be very well brought up if they're taught to look down on gold and precious stones.” Cacambo was as surprised as Candide. At last they approached the first house in the village. It was built like a palace in Europe. Many people were gathered at the door, and even more were inside. Very pleasant music could be heard, and a delicious smell of cooking drifted out. Cacambo went up to the door and heard people speaking Peruvian. It was his native language. Everyone knows, of course, that Cacambo was born in Tucuman, in a village where no other language was spoken. “I'll interpret for you,” he told Candide. “Let's go in. This is an inn.”
Two young men and two young women who worked at the inn immediately invited them to sit at the common table. They wore cloth of gold and had tied their hair back with ribbons. Four soups were served, each with two parrots, a boiled condor weighing two hundred pounds, two roasted monkeys that tasted excellent, three hundred hummingbirds on one platter, and six hundred tiny hummingbirds on another. There were exquisite stews and delicious pastries. Everything was served in dishes made from a kind of rock crystal. The young men and women poured various drinks made from sugarcane.
Most of the guests were merchants and drivers. All were extremely polite. They asked Cacambo a few questions with great care not to pry, and answered his questions in a way that satisfied him.
When the meal ended, Cacambo and Candide thought they would be paying generously by tossing two of the large gold pieces they had picked up onto the innkeeper's table. The innkeeper and his wife burst out laughing and held their sides for a long time. At last they recovered. “Gentlemen,” said the innkeeper, “we can see you're foreigners. We aren't used to seeing any. Forgive us for laughing when you offered to pay us with stones from our roads. You probably don't have any of our money, but you don't need money to eat here. The government pays for all the inns set up for the convenience of trade. You had a poor meal here because this is a poor village, but everywhere else you'll be treated as you deserve.” Cacambo translated everything the innkeeper said for Candide. Candide listened with as much amazement and confusion as Cacambo felt while translating. “What is this place?” they both asked. “The rest of the world knows nothing about it, and everything in nature here is so different from what we're used to. This must be the place where everything goes well, because there simply must be such a place. Whatever Master Pangloss said, I often noticed that things went rather badly in Westphalia.”