“I suppose they are going either to boil or roast us. Ah! what would Pangloss say if he were to see how pure nature is formed? Everything is right; it may be so; but I must confess it is something hard to be bereft of dear Miss Cunegund, and to be spitted like a rabbit by these barbarous Oreillons.”

Cacambo, who never lost his presence of mind in distress, said to the disconsolate Candide, “Do not despair; I understand a little of the jargon of these people; I will speak to them.”

“Ay, pray do,” said Candide, “and be sure you make them sensible of the horrid barbarity of boiling and roasting human creatures, and how little of Christianity there is in such practices.”

“Gentlemen,” said Cacambo,