บทที่ บทที่ 5 · TEMPEST, SHIPWRECK, EARTHQUAKE, AND WHAT BECAME OF DOCTOR PANGLOSS,

CANDIDE, AND JAMES THE ANABAPTIST.

Half dead of that inconceivable anguish which the rolling of a ship

produces, one-half of the passengers were not even sensible of the

danger. The other half shrieked and prayed. The sheets were rent, the

masts broken, the vessel gaped. Work who would, no one heard, no one

commanded. The Anabaptist being upon deck bore a hand; when a brutish

sailor struck him roughly and laid him sprawling; but with the violence

of the blow he himself tumbled head foremost overboard, and stuck upon a

piece of the broken mast. Honest James ran to his assistance, hauled him

up, and from the effort he made was precipitated into the sea in sight

of the sailor, who left him to perish, without deigning to look at him.

Candide drew near and saw his benefactor, who rose above the water one

moment and was then swallowed up for ever. He was just going to jump

after him, but was prevented by the philosopher Pangloss, who

demonstrated to him that the Bay of Lisbon had been made on purpose for

the Anabaptist to be drowned. While he was proving this _a priori_, the

ship foundered; all perished except Pangloss, Candide, and that brutal

sailor who had drowned the good Anabaptist. The villain swam safely to

the shore, while Pangloss and Candide were borne thither upon a plank.

As soon as they recovered themselves a little they walked toward Lisbon.

They had some money left, with which they hoped to save themselves from

starving, after they had escaped drowning. Scarcely had they reached the

city, lamenting the death of their benefactor, when they felt the earth

tremble under their feet. The sea swelled and foamed in the harbour, and

beat to pieces the vessels riding at anchor. Whirlwinds of fire and

ashes covered the streets and public places; houses fell, roofs were

flung upon the pavements, and the pavements were scattered. Thirty

thousand inhabitants of all ages and sexes were crushed under the

ruins.[4] The sailor, whistling and swearing, said there was booty to be

gained here.

"What can be the _sufficient reason_ of this phenomenon?" said Pangloss.

"This is the Last Day!" cried Candide.

The sailor ran among the ruins, facing death to find money; finding it,

he took it, got drunk, and having slept himself sober, purchased the

favours of the first good-natured wench whom he met on the ruins of the

destroyed houses, and in the midst of the dying and the dead. Pangloss

pulled him by the sleeve.

"My friend," said he, "this is not right. You sin against the _universal

reason_; you choose your time badly."

"S'blood and fury!" answered the other; "I am a sailor and born at

Batavia. Four times have I trampled upon the crucifix in four voyages to

Japan[5]; a fig for thy universal reason."

Some falling stones had wounded Candide. He lay stretched in the street

covered with rubbish.

"Alas!" said he to Pangloss, "get me a little wine and oil; I am dying."

"This concussion of the earth is no new thing," answered Pangloss. "The

city of Lima, in America, experienced the same convulsions last year;

the same cause, the same effects; there is certainly a train of sulphur

under ground from Lima to Lisbon."

"Nothing more probable," said Candide; "but for the love of God a little

oil and wine."

"How, probable?" replied the philosopher. "I maintain that the point is

capable of being demonstrated."

Candide fainted away, and Pangloss fetched him some water from a

neighbouring fountain. The following day they rummaged among the ruins

and found provisions, with which they repaired their exhausted strength.

After this they joined with others in relieving those inhabitants who

had escaped death. Some, whom they had succoured, gave them as good a

dinner as they could in such disastrous circumstances; true, the repast

was mournful, and the company moistened their bread with tears; but

Pangloss consoled them, assuring them that things could not be

otherwise.

"For," said he, "all that is is for the best. If there is a volcano at

Lisbon it cannot be elsewhere. It is impossible that things should be

other than they are; for everything is right."

A little man dressed in black, Familiar of the Inquisition, who sat by

him, politely took up his word and said:

"Apparently, then, sir, you do not believe in original sin; for if all

is for the best there has then been neither Fall nor punishment."

"I humbly ask your Excellency's pardon," answered Pangloss, still more

politely; "for the Fall and curse of man necessarily entered into the

system of the best of worlds."

"Sir," said the Familiar, "you do not then believe in liberty?"

"Your Excellency will excuse me," said Pangloss; "liberty is consistent

with absolute necessity, for it was necessary we should be free; for, in

short, the determinate will----"

Pangloss was in the middle of his sentence, when the Familiar beckoned

to his footman, who gave him a glass of wine from Porto or Opporto.