Pangloss pulled him by the sleeve. “Friend,” said he, “this is not right, you trespass against the universal reason, and have mistaken your time.”

“Death and zounds!” answered the other, “I am a sailor and was born at Batavia, and have trampled four times upon the crucifix in as many voyages to Japan; you have come to a good hand with your universal reason.”

In the meantime, Candide, who had been wounded by some pieces of stone that fell from the houses, lay stretched in the street, almost covered with rubbish.

“For God's sake,” said he to Pangloss, “get me a little wine and oil! I am dying.”

“This concussion of the earth is no new thing,” said Pangloss,