Candide or Optimism by Voltaire

Author:Voltaire [Voltaire]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Historical Novel
ISBN: 0-7607-9862-1
Publisher: Barnes and Noble Publishing
Published: 2000-07-19T05:00:00+00:00

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Chapter XXV

Senator Pococurante

Candide and Martin took a gondola to Senator Pococurante's palace on the Brenta. Its gardens were extensive and adorned with fine marble statues, and the palace itself was of great beauty. The master of the house, a man of about sixty, and very rich, received the two sightseers civilly, but without much ceremony. Candide was disconcerted by this, but Martin was rather pleased.

Two pretty girls in neat dresses brought chocolate, which they stirred into a creamy froth. Candide remarked on their good looks and smart service.

"They are good enough creatures," said the senator. "I make them lie with me sometimes, for I am heartily tired of the city ladies, their coquetry, their jealousy, their quarrels, their humours, their meannesses, their pride and their follies. I am tired of making sonnets, or of paying for sonnets to be made, in their honor.

"But now, after all, these girls begin to tax my patience."

After breakfast they walked along a large gallery. Candide admired the pictures. Pausing by the first two they came to, he asked who had painted them. "They are by Raphael," said the senator. "I bought them, at a great price, seven years ago, purely from vanity, as they are said to be the finest pieces in Italy. They do not please me: the colors are gloomy, the figures do not come out enough, they want relief, and the draperies do not at all resemble any true stuff. In short, whatever may be said of them, they are not, in my opinion, a true representation of nature. I shall never like a picture, unless it makes me believe that I am beholding Nature herself: and there are no such pictures. I have many, but I no longer look at them."

Before dinner Pococurante ordered music. Candide thought it delightful. "This noise," said Pococurante, "may entertain one for half an hour, but if it lasts longer it becomes tiresome to everybody, although no one dares to own it. Music in these days is no more than the art of performing the difficult; and that which is merely difficult, and nothing else, cannot please for long.

"I believe I might take more pleasure in opera, if they had not found a way to turn it into a repulsive monstrosity. These wretched tragedies set to music—see them who will: where the scenes are contrived for no other purpose than to introduce, most incongruously, two or three songs designed to give some actress an opportunity of showing the powers of her gullet. Let who will, or can, swoon with pleasure to see a eunuch trilling and strutting his way through the part of Caesar or Cato. For my part, I have long since forsaken these paltry spectacles, which constitute the glory of our modern Italy—and for which monarchs pay so dear."

Candide argued against these sentiments, but only a little and with discretion. Martin was in full agreement with them.

After an excellent dinner, they repaired to the library, where Candide noticed a magnificently bound Homer.

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