y for a grave-digger]. This obscure, whimsical,
and disagreeable poem was despised upon its first publication, and I
only treat it now as it was treated in its own country by
contemporaries. For the matter of that I say what I think, and I care
very little whether others think as I do."

Candide was grieved at this speech, for he had a respect for Homer and
was fond of Milton.

"Alas!" said he softly to Martin, "I am afraid that this man holds our
German poets in very great contempt."

"There would not be much harm in that," said Martin.

"Oh! what a superior man," said Candide below his breath. "What a great
genius is this Pococurante! Nothing can please him."

After their survey of the library they went down into the garden, where
Candide praised its several beauties.

"I know of nothing in so bad a taste," said the master. "All you see
here is merely trifling. After to-morrow I will have it planted with a
nobler design."

"Well," said Candide to Martin when they had taken their leave, "you
will agree that this is the happiest of mortals, for he is above
everything he possesses."

"But do you not see," answered Martin, "that he is disgusted with all he
possesses? Plato observed a long while ago that those stomachs are not
the best that reject all sorts of food."

"But is there not a pleasure," said Candide, "in criticising
everything, in pointing out faults where others see nothing but
beauties?"

"That is to say," replied Martin, "that there is some pleasure in having
no pleasure."

"Well, well," said Candide, "I find that I shall be the only happy man
when I am blessed with the sight of my dear Cunegonde."

"It is always well to hope," said Martin.

However, the days and the weeks passed. Cacambo did not come, and
Candide was so overwhelmed with grief that he did not even reflect that
Paquette and Friar Giroflee did not return to thank him.

XXVI

OF A SUPPER WHICH CANDIDE AND MARTIN TOOK WITH SIX STRANGERS, AND WHO
THEY WERE.[34]

One evening that Candide and Martin were going to sit down to supper
with some foreigners who lodged in the same inn, a man whose complexion
was as black as soot, came behind Candide, and taking him by the arm,
said:

"Get yourself ready to go along with us; do not fail."

Upon this he turned round and saw--Cacambo! Nothing but the sight of
Cunegonde could have astonished and delighted him more. He was on the
point of going mad with joy. He embraced his de