nosegay of tulips, roses, anemones, ranunculuses, hyacinths, and
auriculas; she let fall her nosegay. I ran immediately to take it
up, and presented it to her with a most respectful bow. I was so
long in delivering it that the man began to be angry; and,
perceiving I was a Christian, he cried out for help; they carried me
before the cadi, who ordered me to receive one hundred bastinadoes,
and sent me to the galleys. I was chained in the very galley and to
the very same bench with the Baron. On board this galley there were
four young men belonging to Marseilles, five Neapolitan priests, and
two monks of Corfu, who told us that the like adventures happened
every day. The Baron pretended that he had been worse used than
myself; and I insisted that there was far less harm in taking up a
nosegay, and putting it into a woman's bosom, than to be found stark
naked with a young Icoglan. We were continually whipped, and
received twenty lashes a day with a heavy thong, when the
concatenation of sublunary events brought you on board our galley to
ransom us from slavery."

  "Well, my dear Pangloss," said Candide to him, "when You were
hanged, dissected, whipped, and tugging at the oar, did you continue
to think that everything in this world happens for the best?"

  "I have always abided by my first opinion," answered Pangloss; "for,
after all, I am a philosopher, and it would not become me to retract
my sentiments; especially as Leibnitz could not be in the wrong: and
that preestablished harmony is the finest thing in the world, as
well as a plenum and the materia subtilis."

  CHAPTER 29 In

  What Manner Candide Found Miss Cunegund and the Old Woman Again

  While Candide, the Baron, Pangloss, Martin, and Cacambo, were
relating their several adventures, and reasoning on the contingent
or noncontingent events of this world; on causes and effects; on moral
and physical evil; on free will and necessity; and on the
consolation that may be felt by a person when a slave and chained to
an oar in a Turkish galley, they arrived at the house of the
Transylvanian prince on the shores of the Propontis. The first objects
they beheld there, were Miss Cunegund and the old woman, who were
hanging some tablecloths on a line to dry.

  The Baron turned pale at the sight. Even the tender Candide, that
affectionate lover, upon seeing his fair Cunegund all sunburned,
with bleary eyes, a withered neck, wrinkled face and arms, all covered
with a red scurf, started back with horror; but, not withstanding,
recovering himself, he advanced towards her out of good manners. She
embraced Candide and her brother; they embraced the old woman, and
Candide ransomed them both.

  There was a small farm in the neighborhood which the old woman
proposed to Candide to make shift with till the company should meet
with a more favorable destiny. Cunegund, not knowing that she was
grown ugly, as no one had informed her of it, reminded Candide of
his promise in so peremptory a manner, that the simple lad did not
dare to refuse her; he then acquainted the Baron that he was going
to marry his sister.

  "I will never suffer," said the Baron, "my sister to be guilty of an
action so derogatory to her birth and family; nor will I bear this
insolence on your part. No, I never will be reproached that my nephews
are not qualified for the first ecclesiastical dignities in Germany;
nor shall a sister of mine ever be the wife of any person below the
rank of Baron of the Empire."

  Cunegund flung herself at her brother's feet, and bedewed them
with her tears; but he still continued inflexible.

  "Thou foolish fellow, said Candide, "have I not delivered thee
from the galleys, paid thy ransom, and thy sister's, too, who was a
scullion, and is very ugly, and yet condescend to marry her? and shalt
thou pretend to oppose the match! If I were to listen only to the
dictates of my anger, I should kill thee again."

  "Thou mayest kill me again," said the Baron; "but thou shalt not
marry my sister while I am living."

  CHAPTER 30

  Conclusion

  Candide had, in truth, no great inclination to marry Miss
Cunegund; but the extreme impertinence of the Baron determined him
to conclude the match; and Cunegund pressed him so warmly, that he
could not recant. He consulted Pangloss, Martin, and the faithful
Cacambo. Pangloss composed a fine memorial, by which he proved that
the Baron had no right over his sister; and that she might,
according to all the laws of the Empire, marry Candide with the left
hand. Martin concluded to throw the Baron into the sea; Cacambo
decided that he must be delivered to the Turkish captain and sent to
the galleys; after which he should be conveyed by the first ship to
the Father General at Rome. This advice was found to be good; the
old woman approved of it, and not a syllable was said to his sister;
the business was executed for a little money; and they had the
pleasure of tricking a Jesuit, and punishing the pride of a German
baron.

  It was altogether natural to imagine, that after undergoing so
many disasters, Candide, married to his mistress and living with the
philosopher Pangloss, the philosopher Martin, the prudent Cacambo, and