“For the King of the Bulgarians?” said Candide. “Oh, Lord! not at all, why I never saw him in my life.”

“Is it possible? Oh, he is a most charming king! Come, we must drink his health.”

“With all my heart, gentlemen,” said Candide, and off he tossed his glass.

“Bravo!” cried the blues; “you are now the support, the defender, the hero of the Bulgarians; your fortune is made; you are in the high road to glory.”

So saying, they handcuffed him, and carried him away to the regiment. There he was made to wheel about to the right, to the left, to draw his rammer, to return his rammer, to present, to fire, to march, and they gave him thirty blows with a