CHAPTER IX. What happened to Cunegund, Candide, the Grand Inquisitor, and the Jew. THIS same Issachar was the most choleric little Hebrew that had ever been in Israel since the captivity of Babylon. "What, then," said he, "thou Galilean wretch? The Inquisitor was not enough for thee, but this rascal must come in for a share with me!" In uttering these words he drew out a long poignard which he always carried about with him, and never dreaming that his adversary had any arms, he attacked him most furiously; but our honest Westphalian had received a handsome sword of the old woman with the suit of clothes. Candide draws his rapier, and though he was the most gentle, sweet-tempered young man breathing, he whips it into the Israelite, and lays him sprawling on the floor at the fair Cunegund's feet. "Holy Virgin!" cried she, "what will become of us? A man killed in my apartment! If the peace officers come we are undone." "Had not Pangloss been hanged," replied Candide. "he would have given us most excellent advice in this emergency, for he was a profound philosopher. But since he is not here, let us consult the old woman." She was very understanding, and was beginning to give her advice, when another door opened on a sudden. It was now one o'clock in the morning, and of course the beginning of Sunday, which, by agreement, fell to the lot of my Lord Inquisitor. Entering, he discovers the flagellated Candide, with his drawn sword in his hand, a dead body stretched on the floor, Cunegund frightened out of her wits, and the old woman giving advice. At that very moment a sudden thought came into Candide's head. "If this holy man," thought he, "should call assistance, I shall most undoubtedly be consigned to the flames, and Miss Cunegund may perhaps meet with no better treatment. |
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