“I, Sir,” replied the man of letters, ‘‘I think no such thing, I assure you. I find that all in this world is set the wrong end uppermost. No one knows what is his rank, his office, nor what he does, nor what he should do; and that except for our evenings which we generally pass tolerably merrily, the rest of our time is spent in idle disputes and quarrels, Jansenists against Molinists, the Parliament against the Church, men of letters against men of letters, countries against countries, financiers against the people, wives against husbands, relations against relations. In short, there is eternal warfare.”
“Yes,” said Candide, “and I have seen worse than all that; and yet a learned man, who had the misfortune to be hanged, taught me that everything was marvellously well, and that these evils you are speaking of were only so many shadows in a beautiful picture.”
“Your hempen sage,” said Martin, “laughed at you. These shadows as you call them are most horrible blemishes.”
“It is men who make these blemishes,” rejoined Candide, “and they cannot do otherwise.”
“Then it is not their fault,” added Martin.
The greater part of the gamesters, who did not understand a syllable of this discourse, continued to drink, while Martin reasoned with the learned gentleman, and Candide recounted some of his adventures to the lady of the house.
After supper, the Marchioness conducted Candide into her dressing-room, and made him sit down on a sofa.
“Well,” said she, “are you still so violently fond of Miss Cunegund of Thunder-ten-tronckh?”
“Yes, Madam,” replied Candide.
The Marchioness said to him with a tender smile, “You answer like a young man from Westphalia. A Frenchman would have said, ‘It is true, Madam, I had a great passion for Miss Cunegund, but since I have seen you, I fear I can no longer love her as I did.’ ”
“Alas! Madam,” replied Candide, “I’ll make you what answer you please.”
“You fell in love with her, I find, in picking up her handkerchief. You shall pick up my garter.”
“With all my heart,” said Candide.
“But you must tie it on,” said the lady; and Candide tied it on.
“Look you,” said the lady, “you are a stranger. I make some of my lovers
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