What Became of Cunegonde, Candide, the Grand Inquisitor, and the Jew
THIS ISSACHAR WAS the most choleric Hebrew that had ever been seen in Israel since the Captivity in Babylon.
“What!” said he, “thou bitch of a Galilean, was not the Inquisitor enough for thee? Must this rascal also share with me?”
In saying this he drew a long poniard which he always carried about him; and not imagining that his adversary had any arms he threw himself upon Candide: but our honest Westphalian had received a handsome sword from the old woman along with the suit of clothes. He drew his rapier, despite his gentleness, and laid the Israelite stone dead upon the cushions at Cunegonde's feet.
“Holy Virgin!” cried she, “what will become of us? A man killed in my apartment! If the officers of justice come, we are lost!”
“Had not Pangloss been hanged,” said Candide, “he would give us good counsel in this emergency, for he was a profound philosopher. Failing him let us consult the old woman.”
She was very prudent and commenced to give her opinion when suddenly another little door opened. It was an hour after midnight, it was the beginning of Sunday. This day belonged to my lord the Inquisitor. He entered, and saw the whipped Candide, sword in hand, a dead man upon the floor, Cunegonde aghast, and the old woman giving counsel.
At this moment, the following is what passed in the soul of Candide, and how he reasoned:
If this holy man call in assistance, he will surely have me burned; and Cunegonde will perhaps be served in the same manner; he was the cause of my being cruelly whipped; he is my rival; and, as I have now begun to kill, I will kill away, for there is no time to hesitate. This reasoning was clear and instantaneous; so that without giving time to the Inquisitor to recover from his surprise, he pierced him through and through, and cast him beside the Jew.
“Yet again!” said Cunegonde, “now there is no mercy for us, we are excommunicated, our last hour has come. How could you do it? you, naturally so gentle, to slay a Jew and a prelate in two minutes!”
“My beautiful young lady,” responded Candide, “when one is a lover, jealous and whipped by the Inquisition, one stops at nothing.”
The old woman then put in her word, saying:
“There are three Andalusian horses in the stable with bridles and saddles, let the brave Candide get them ready; madame has money, jewels; let us therefore mount quickly on horseback, though I can sit only on one buttock; let us set out for Cadiz, it has the finest weather in the world, and there is great pleasure in traveling in the cool of the night.”
Immediately Candide saddled the three horses, and Cunegonde, the old woman and he, traveled thirty miles at a stretch. While they were journeying, the Holy Brotherhood entered the house; my lord the Inquisitor was interred in a handsome church, and Issachar's body was thrown upon a dunghill.
Candide, Cunegonde, and the old woman, had now reached the little town of Avacena in the midst of the mountains of the Sierra Morena, and were speaking as follows in a public inn.
A mountain range in southern Spain that stretches some 250 miles East to West, nearly touching the Portuguese border. Thus, we know that the three travelers have crossed the border into Spain and are in some ways safe from prosecution, provided they don't get caught by another Inquisitor or the Holy Brotherhood.— Sinead, Owl Eyes Editor
Meaning laid in a grave, buried. Used in particular to refer to religious officials and noble men and women who are buried within a church's crypt or tomb. As the Grand Inquisitor, he would've been entitled to a burial next to lords and kinds, unlike Don Issachar, who, as a Jew, received no burial rites at all at the hands of the Holy Brotherhood (a decidedly Catholic organization).— Sinead, Owl Eyes Editor
The Santa Hermandad, a group of religious police offers created by King Ferdinand and Queen Isabelle of Spain in the late 15th Century. The Holy Brotherhood would not generally have had jurisdiction in Lisbon, Portugal, but, given the earthquake, they may be present to restore order to the ruined city and aid the Inquisition during the auto-da-fe.— Sinead, Owl Eyes Editor
A port city in Southwestern Spain, on the Atlantic coast. Its climate is said to be very temperate, and it has the added bonus of being in a different country with different extradition laws, making it possible for Candide to avoid prosecution for these two murders (despite one of them being, arguably, in self-defense).— Sinead, Owl Eyes Editor
Andalusian horses, also known as Pure Spanish Horses, hail from the region of Andalusia on the Iberian Peninsula and are known for their good breeding and excellent performance both on the racetrack and in the field. Don Issachar possesses these horses because he's a wealthy nobleman; Cunegonde and Candide would never be able to afford them on their own.— Sinead, Owl Eyes Editor
An excommunication is a formal notice from the Church (typically the Roman Catholic Church) stating that one has been banned from the Church and will no longer be recognized as a member. Technically, none but a Church official can decree that someone has been excommunicated, which makes this statement premature (though, in the end, very likely).— Sinead, Owl Eyes Editor
Voltaire takes great pains to show the reader that Candide acts on instinct rather than in accordance with this philosophical training. He still takes a half second to reason through the situation, but this kind of reasoning isn't a priori but rather straightforward, direct, and fluid, moving logically from cause to effect rather than from effect to cause. This is the best reasoning Candide has yet displayed. It's unfortunate that this leads to murder.— Sinead, Owl Eyes Editor
At this point in the narrative, we have no reason to believe that this old woman can in any way serve as a good substitute for Pangloss, or, indeed, that she is even particularly wise. Thus far, she has merely been following the orders of Cunegonde, which means that they're turning to her not for her wisdom but out of a youthful naivete that makes anyone older than them appear wiser.— Sinead, Owl Eyes Editor
Note that this is the first we've heard of this handsome sword. Unlike other writers, Voltaire doesn't bother to establish facts ahead of time, instead presenting them as necessary when he needs to get his main characters out of trouble. This style of writing has the effect of rendering the story in many ways unbelievable, which only enhances the comedic aspects of Voltaire's satire.— Sinead, Owl Eyes Editor
A lightweight sword, similar to a parrying dagger, which was common in the Middle Ages and the Renaissance. Historically, the poniard has been worn by noblemen and knight, and its presence here indicates to the reader that Don Issachar is of the former class and that his great wealth has allowed him to avoid persecution at the hands of the Inquisition.— Sinead, Owl Eyes Editor
A reference to Galilee, a city in northern Israel where Jesus Christ was said to have lived for the first thirty or so years of his life. Jesus's ministry was housed there, and many of his works take place around the Sea of Galilee. To call Cunegonde a "Galilean" in this derogatory way is to call her a Christian.— Sinead, Owl Eyes Editor
The Jewish people were enslaved in Babylonia in the Sixth Century B.C.E. This is one of the earliest examples of Anti-Semitism and set the stage for later and more drastic instances of persecution, such as the Holocaust. For Don Issachar to be the most choleric Jew since this captivity means that he's almost as angry as people were when they were enslaved.— Sinead, Owl Eyes Editor
A reference to the theory of Humorism, which says that a person's temperament is governed by the balance of the four "humours" in his body (phlegm, blood, yellow bile, and black bile), which in turn make you either phlegmatic, sanguine, choleric, or melancholic. If someone is choleric, they are restless, easily angered, and commandeering.— Sinead, Owl Eyes Editor