Chapter 9: What happened next to Cunegonde, Candide, the Grand Inquisitor, and a Jew.

This Issachar was the most hot-tempered Hebrew ever seen in Israel since the captivity in Babylon. “What!” he said, “Galilean b—h, that’s not enough for Monsieur Inquisitor? That rascal needs to share with me too!” In saying this he pulled out a long dagger, which he always wore, and, not believing that his adversary would carry any weapons, he threw himself at Candide, but our good Westphalian had already received a beautiful old sword and complete fighting habit. He drew his sword, though he was of a gentle nature, and struck the Israelite around the head so that his stone dead body fell at Cunegonde’s feet. 

“Holy Virgin!” she cried, “What are we going to do? A man has been killed besides me! If justice comes, we’re both doomed!” 

“If Pangloss hadn’t been hanged,” said Candide, “he would’ve had good advice for a situation of this extremity, for he was a great philosopher! At his loss, though, let us consult the old woman.” That woman was, in fact, quite prudent, and had begun to state her opinion just when another little door opened in the room. It was an hour after midnight, and Sunday had technically begun. This was the Inquisitor’s day. He entered the room and saw Candide, sword still in hand, a corpse on the ground, Cunegonde frantic, and the old woman sharing her counsel.

Here’s what happened within Candide’s soul at that moment, and how he reasoned it: “If this holy man calls for help, he’ll undoubtedly have me burned at the stake, and will be able to do the same to Cunegonde; he’ll have me whipped pitilessly; he’s my rival; I’m trained to kill; he’s not even balanced well.”

This reasoning occurred quickly, and, without giving the Inquisitor any time to recover from the shock he felt upon entering the room, Candide pierced his sword right through the man and threw him down next to the Jew. 

“Another one!” said Cunegonde. “There won’t be any way back from this! We’ll both be excommunicated; our last hour is coming! What are you going to do, Candide? You’re not as gentle as I thought, killing within minutes both a Jew and an Inquisitor!”

“My beautiful madame,” replied Candide, “when one is in love, jealous, and whipped by the Inquisition, you can expect nothing other than this.”

The old woman also desired to speak, and said, “There are three Andalusian horses in the house’s stable, with their saddles and bridles stored nearby. The brave Candide will prepare them. Madame of pistols and diamonds, which were given to you by your captors, mount a horse quickly, and let us go to Cadiz. This is the greatest time in the world, and it’s a great pleasure to travel in the fresh air of the night. Then, Candide went to saddle the three horses; Cunegonde, the old woman, and himself were able to ride thirty miles at a time. While they were fleeing, the Holy Brotherhood of the Inquisition arrived at the house, buried their master in a great church, and threw the Jew in a garbage dump.

Candide, Cunegonde, and the old woman were after many days within view of the little city of Avacena, by the mountains of Sierra-Morena, and found a safe place to talk within one of the city’s cabarets.

Translator’s Note: As you probably noticed, Candide experiences a strange, sudden change in bravery and competency during this chapter. Even in the French version, both his sword and the fact that he’s a trained fighter appear out of nowhere. There is a reason for this. Voltaire made this entire chapter parody the style of popular heroic novels of the time, where protagonists were often master fighters who would save damsels in distress without ever suffering an ounce of bodily harm. His original readers would’ve recognized this style as yet another layer of satire. Furthermore, note the way that the Jew and Inquisitor are buried. Voltaire took a clear stab here at highlighting the religiously-motivated double standards of the time. The sheer volume of semicolons in certain sentences is straight from the French text. I sometimes choose to restructure sentences to flow more easily, but the original form fit well with the panicked, epic style of the chapter.