Cunegonde pays the old woman the civilities due to her rank and merit, then engages every passenger to relate a story. She and Candide allow that the old woman was in the right. Candide only regrets that Pangloss was hanged contrary to custom; the sage could have explained the physical and moral evils overspreading earth and sea, and Candide could have made a few objections. The ship makes her way. They land at Buenos Ayres.
They wait on the Governor, Don Fernando d'Ibaraa, y Figueora, y Mascarenes, y Lampourdos, y Souza. He has a stateliness matching so many names. He speaks with disdain, carries his nose loftily, and stalks with such pride that those who salute him wish to give him a good drubbing. Cunegonde appears to him the most beautiful he has ever met. His first question is whether she is the captain's wife. The manner of the asking alarms Candide. He will not say wife, because she is not. He will not say sister, though the ancients favoured that lie. His soul is too pure to betray the truth. Miss Cunegonde, he says, is to do him the honour of marriage, and he asks the Governor to sanction it. Don Fernando turns up his moustachios, smiles mockingly, and orders Captain Candide to go and review his company. Alone with Cunegonde, he protests he will marry her the next day in the face of the church, or otherwise, as she prefers. She asks a quarter of an hour to consult the old woman.
Miss, says the old woman, you have seventy-two quarterings and not a farthing. You may be wife to the greatest lord in South America, who has very beautiful moustachios. Is inviolable fidelity yours to claim? Bulgarians, a Jew, and an Inquisitor have already had her. Misfortune is excuse enough. In her place the old woman would marry the Governor and make Candide's fortune. While this prudence is spoken, a small ship enters with an Alcalde and his alguazils. The Grey Friar of Badajos tried to sell the Grand Inquisitor's diamonds, confessed on the gallows, and described the route. They have been traced from Cadiz. The report is that the Alcalde hunts the Inquisitor's murderers. You cannot run, the old woman tells Cunegonde; you did not kill my lord, and the Governor who loves you will not suffer you to be ill-treated. She then runs to Candide. Fly, she says, or in an hour you will be burnt. There is not a moment to lose. He does not know how to part from Cunegonde, or where to flee.
Coming Up in Chapter 14
Candide has brought from Cadiz a valet named Cacambo, once singing-boy, monk, soldier, and lackey. He saddles the Andalusian horses and says they should not look behind. If Buenos Ayres wanted them against the Jesuits, they will go and fight for them instead.
