OF PACQUETTE AND FRIAR GIROFLEE
Upon their arrival at Venice Candide went in search of Cacambo at every inn and coffee-house, and among all the ladies of pleasure, but could hear nothing of him. He sent every day to inquire what ships were in, still no news of Cacambo.
"It is strange", said he to Martin, "very strange that I should have time to sail from Surinam to Bordeaux; to travel thence to Paris, to Dieppe, to Portsmouth; to sail along the coast of Portugal and Spain, and up the Mediterranean to spend some months at Venice; and that my lovely Cunegonde should not have arrived. Instead of her, I only met with a Parisian impostor, and a rascally abbe of Perigord. Cunegonde is actually dead, and I have nothing to do but follow her. Alas! how much better would it have been for me to have remained in the paradise of El Dorado than to have returned to this cursed Europe! You are in the right, my dear Martin;you are certainly in the right; all is misery and deceit."He fell into a deep melancholy, and neither went to the opera then in vogue, nor partook of any of the diversions of the Carnival;nay, he even slighted the fair sex.
Martin said to him, "Upon my word, I think you are very simple to imagine that a rascally valet, with five or six millions in his pocket, would go in search of your mistress to the further of the world, and bring her to Venice to meet you. If he finds her he will take her for himself; if he does not, he will take another. Let me advise you to forget your valet Cacambo, and your mistress Cunegonde."Martin's speech was not the most consolatory to the dejected Candide. His melancholy increased, and Martin never ceased trying to prove to him that there is very little virtue or happiness in this world;except, perhaps, in El Dorado, where hardly anybody can gain admittance.
While they were disputing on this important subject, and still expecting Miss Cunegonde, Candide perceived a young Theatin friar in the Piazza San Marco, with a girl under his arm. The Theatin looked fresh-colored, plump, and vigorous; his eyes sparkled; his air and gait were bold and lofty. The girl was pretty, and was singing a song; and every now and then gave her Theatin an amorous ogle and wantonly pinched his ruddy cheeks.
"You will at least allow", said Candide to Martin, "that these two are happy.
Hitherto I have met with none but unfortunate people in the whole habitable globe, except in El Dorado; but as to this couple, I would venture to lay a wager they are happy.""Done!" said Martin, "they are not what you imagine.""Well, we have only to ask them to dine with us", said Candide, "and you will see whether I am mistaken or not."Thereupon he accosted them, and with great politeness invited them to his inn to eat some macaroni, with Lombard partridges and caviar, and to drink a bottle of Montepulciano, Lacryma Christi, Cyprus, and Samos wine. The girl blushed; the Theatin accepted the invitation and she followed him, eyeing Candide every now and then with a mixture of surprise and confusion, while the tears stole down her cheeks. No sooner did she enter his apartment than she cried out, "How, Monsieur Candide, have you quite forgot your Pacquette? do you not know her again?"Candide had not regarded her with any degree of attention before, being wholly occupied with the thoughts of his dear Cunegonde.
"Ah! is it you, child? was it you that reduced Dr. Pangloss to that fine condition I saw him in?""Alas! sir", answered Pacquette, "it was I, indeed. I find you are acquainted with everything; and I have been informed of all the misfortunes that happened to the whole family of My Lady Baroness and the fair Cunegonde. But I can safely swear to you that my lot was no less deplorable; I was innocence itself when you saw me last.
A Franciscan, who was my confessor, easily seduced me; the consequences proved terrible. Iwas obliged to leave the castle some time after the Baron kicked you out by the backside from there; and if a famous surgeon had not taken compassion on me, I had been a dead woman. Gratitude obliged me to live with him some time as his mistress; his wife, who was a very devil for jealousy, beat me unmercifully every day. Oh! she was a perfect fury. The doctor himself was the most ugly of all mortals, and Ithe most wretched creature existing, to be continually beaten for a man whom I did not love.
