The skipper asked ten thousand piastres; and Candide agreed to his demand without hesitation.
“Oh, ho!" said the cunning Vanderdendur to himself, “this stranger must be very rich; he agrees to give me ten thousand piastres without hesitation.”
Returning a little while after, he told Candide that upon second consideration he could not undertake the voyage for less than twenty thousand.
“Very well, you shall have them,” said Candide.
“Zounds!” said the skipper to himself, “this man agrees to pay twenty thousand piastres with as much ease as ten.”
Accordingly he went back again, and told him roundly that he would not carry him to Venice for less than thirty thousand piastres.
“Then you shall have thirty thousand,” said Candide.
“Odso!” said the Dutchman once more to himself, “thirty thousand piastres seem a trifle to this man. Those sheep must certainly be laden with an immense treasure. I’ll stop here and ask no more; but make him pay down the thirty thousand piastres, and then we shall see.”
Candide sold two small diamonds, the least of which was worth more than all the skipper asked. He paid him before-hand, and the two sheep were put on board, and Candide followed in a small boat to join the vessel in the road. The skipper took his opportunity, hoisted his sails, and put out to sea with a favourable wind. Candide, confounded and amazed, soon lost sight of the ship.
“Alas!” said he, “this is a trick like those in our old world!”
He returned back to the shore overwhelmed with grief; and, indeed, he had lost what would have been the fortune of twenty monarchs.
Immediately upon his landing, he applied to the Dutch magistrate: being transported with passion, he thundered at the door; which being opened, he went in, told his case, and talked a little louder than was necessary. The magistrate began by fining him ten thousand piastres for his petulance, and then listened very patiently to what he had to say, promised to examine into the affair at the skipper’s return, and ordered him to pay ten thousand piastres more for the fees of the court.
This treatment put Candide out of all patience: it is true, he had suffered misfortunes a thousand times more grievous; but the cool insolence of the judge and of the skipper who robbed him raised his choler and threw him into a deep melancholy. The villainy of mankind presented itself to his mind in all its deformity, and his soul was a prey to the most gloomy ideas. After some
