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CHAPTER IX WHAT BECAME OF CUNEGONDE, CANDIDE, THE
GRAND INQUISITOR, AND THE JEW.
This Issachar was the most choleric Hebrew that had ever been seen in Israel since the
Captivity in Babylon. "What!" said he, "thou *** of a Galilean,
was not the Inquisitor enough for thee?
Must this rascal also share with me?"
In saying this he drew a long poniard which he always carried about him; and not
imagining that his adversary had any arms he threw himself upon Candide: but our
honest Westphalian had received a handsome
sword from the old woman along with the suit of clothes.
He drew his rapier, despite his gentleness, and laid the Israelite stone dead upon the
cushions at Cunegonde's feet.
"Holy ***!" cried she, "what will become of us?
A man killed in my apartment! If the officers of justice come, we are
lost!"
"Had not Pangloss been hanged," said Candide, "he would give us good counsel in
this emergency, for he was a profound philosopher.
Failing him let us consult the old woman."
She was very prudent and commenced to give her opinion when suddenly another little
door opened. It was an hour after midnight, it was the
beginning of Sunday.
This day belonged to my lord the Inquisitor.
He entered, and saw the whipped Candide, sword in hand, a dead man upon the floor,
Cunegonde aghast, and the old woman giving counsel.
At this moment, the following is what passed in the soul of Candide, and how he
reasoned:
If this holy man call in assistance, he will surely have me burnt; and Cunegonde
will perhaps be served in the same manner; he was the cause of my being cruelly
whipped; he is my rival; and, as I have now
begun to kill, I will kill away, for there is no time to hesitate.
This reasoning was clear and instantaneous; so that without giving time to the
Inquisitor to recover from his surprise, he pierced him through and through, and cast
him beside the Jew.
"Yet again!" said Cunegonde, "now there is no mercy for us, we are excommunicated, our
last hour has come.
How could you do it? you, naturally so gentle, to slay a Jew and a prelate in two
minutes!"
"My beautiful young lady," responded Candide, "when one is a lover, jealous and
whipped by the Inquisition, one stops at nothing."
The old woman then put in her word, saying:
"There are three Andalusian horses in the stable with bridles and saddles, let the
brave Candide get them ready; madame has money, jewels; let us therefore mount
quickly on horseback, though I can sit only
on one buttock; let us set out for Cadiz, it is the finest weather in the world, and
there is great pleasure in travelling in the cool of the night."
Immediately Candide saddled the three horses, and Cunegonde, the old woman and
he, travelled thirty miles at a stretch.
While they were journeying, the Holy Brotherhood entered the house; my lord the
Inquisitor was interred in a handsome church, and Issachar's body was thrown upon
a dunghill.
Candide, Cunegonde, and the old woman, had now reached the little town of Avacena in
the midst of the mountains of the Sierra Morena, and were speaking as follows in a
public inn.