Candide musical

Candide

The 1973 Libretto

Chelsea Theater Production

Second Draft (August 14, 1973)

Note: Although this early draft of Hugh Wheeler's book would be

revised before production began, most of the dialogue would remain

intact. At this point he had not received Stephen Sondheim's

lyrical contributions. In most instances, Wheeler indicates

where those contributions would be placed.

DR. VOLTAIRE'S CANDIDE

A musical

Music by Leonard Bernstein

Lyrics by Richard Wilbur and .....?

Book by Hugh Wheeler

As the Overture starts, a shaft of light reveals an Eighteenth Century chair at a table on which is an inkhorn, a large white quill pen and a manuscript. For a moment we see only this, then gradually, very faintly, we are aware of movement at some distance beyond it. Slowly the movement defines itself. Two bright pink sheep (actors in skins) are gamboling together. As they do so, movement starts elsewhere and as more light concentrates, we see two grotesquely hooded penitentes, one of whom carries a cross. In yet a third area movement gradually materializes into four smartly drilling Bulgarian soldiers. We see alternately or simultaneously as the nature of the music dictates, all these three groups. Then, at a certain point, we make out, close to the table, a simple bed in which someone is lying asleep. This figure sighs or moans in its sleep and stirs, but does not awaken. An eighteenth century male servant appears, carrying a mug of chocolate on a tray. He goes to the bed, puts down the tray and shakes the sleeper's shoulder. The sleeper sits up abruptly and instantly the

dancing images disappear. The sleeper is Voltaire as an old man. He wears a white nightshirt and a white nightcap. As the servant leaves the room, He gets out of bed, coughs, stretches, finds a glass of water, gargles, then puts on a heavy ornate robe. Picking up the chocolate, He goes to the table and sits down. He picks up the quill pen and surveys the manu cript. As he does so, the three separate groups the soldiers, the penitentes and the pink sheep reappear and merge into a dancing group only to vanish as the Overture ends and bright lights concentrate on Voltaire, the pen in his hand, at the table. Putting down the pen, Voltaire finds and puts on an Eighteenth Century pair of spec acles, pick up the manuscript.

VOLTAIRE (Reading). In Westphalia in the castle of the Baron Thunder-Ten-Tronck, there lived four young people. All of them were

very happy because they knew they were living in the best of all possible

castles in the best of all possible countries in the best of all possible

worlds. (He rises and starts toward one of the small curtained stages) The happiest of them all was the noble youth Candide. Though merely

a bastard cousin, he was graciously permitted to wear the best second

hand clothes and . . . (He pulls a curtain revealing Candide with two attendant huntsmen. Candide has a falcon on his wrist. As Voltaire reveals them) . . . to fly the third best baronial falcon.

(Candide sings of the happiness of his lot in an eight bar passage taken from the last main theme of the overture. This, of course, will have to be a new song, that is, new lyrics)

SONG:

(After the song, he releases the falcon which is jerked clumsily from his wrist and shoots upward stiffly to disappear. A second later, a large stuffed swan clunks down on the stage. The huntsmen applaud)

HUNTSMEN. Bravo, bravo, Master Candide!

(Candide smiles with legitimate pride. Underscoring continues)

VOLTAIRE (Moving to another stage). The next happiest of the four was probably the serving maid, Paquette.

(He draws curtains revealing Paquette, a very sexy girl, helping to dress the immensely fat Baroness while the Baron stands watching)

VOLTAIRE. She enjoyed the honor of dressing the Baroness in the very

presence of the Baron himself and, for her willingness to co-operate,

was a favorite with all.

(Behind the Baroness back, the Baron lecherously ogles Paquette and pinches her behind)

BARON (To Baroness). My dear, if you could spare this young wench for a few minutes, she could grease my riding boots.

BARONESS. Of course, my Lord.

BARON (Leering at Paquette). I will await you in the stables. Bring the lubricant!

PAQUETTE (Beaming at him sexily). Oh yes, my Lord. Willingly, my Lord.

(Voltaire is now moving to another stage)

VOLTAIRE. Also extremely happy was the Baron virgin daughter,

Cunegonde.

(He pulls a curtain revealing Cunegonde in innocent white, standing beside a large artificial rose bush covered with huge white roses)

VOLTAIRE. Cunegonde knew she was not only the highest born maiden in

the land but also the prettiest. She was assured that she could look

forward to a tremendously advantageous marriage.

(To the same eight bars as Candide, Cunegonde sings of the happiness of her lot)

SONG:

(After the song, she plucks a rose and carries it winsomely to her cheek. The underscoring continues)

VOLTAIRE (Moving again). At the moment, the least happy of the four though still happy was the Baron son Maximilian. (He pulls another curtain to reveal Maximilian who is dressing himself also in

virginal white. In fact, his outfit is an exact masculine version of his sister ) Maximilian, being the handsomest youth in Westphalia, was naturally and very sincerely devoted to his own person, but alas, a

pimple just under the left cheekbone! (Maximilian hand goes to his cheek, discovers the pimple, reacts in horror. A male servant enters with his cloak)

SERVANT. A delegation of villagers, sir, to pay homage.

MAXIMILIAN. Dismiss them! (Hysterically indicating the pimple) Look, look. How can I receive even a peasant like this!

SERVANT (Sycophantic). Who could notice so trivial a blemish, Sir when, with one smile from you, their eyes are dazzled?

MAXIMILIAN (Preening again). Well, there is a great deal of truth in that. Admit them.

(Now all four stages are visible, the actors on them are frozen)

VOLTAIRE. If there was the faintest shadow to darken the idyllic

existence of these children, it lay in the fact that Candide except

when hunting could think of little else but the glorious hair and eyes

of Mlle Cunegonde.

(Candide moves forward from his group, a hand yearningly on his heart)

CANDIDE. Oh Mlle Cunegonde!

VOLTAIRE. . . . while Cunegonde, in spite of her exalted birth, was

alarmingly conscious of her bastard cousin strong young thighs.

(Cunegonde kisses the rose and sighs)

CUNEGONDE. Oh Candide!

VOLTAIRE. However, except for this tiny flaw and the pimple their

innocent happiness was unstained.

(All four principals, from their positions, start to sing the next eight measures of the theme of the new song, leaving their groups and marching joyfully around the ramp. Group sings)

SONG:

VOLTAIRE (Over the music, to the Audience). You may ask, if you are of a cynical turn of mind, how, even in this best of all possible castles,

such unique happiness should prevail. The answer is simple. (As he talks, he starts shedding the robe, nightshirt etcetera, slowly transforming himself) These admirable children had the great good fortune to be instructed in the realities of Life by the wisest of all

possible philosophers and scientists a man to whom none of the secrets

of God mysterious ways lay unrevealed. This dazzling individual,

this paragon of human virtues was ever at readiness to mould and shape

his pupils minds and characters in that harmonious . . .

(He breaks off. By now he has transformed himself into a cheerful pedant in cap and gown, bearing a nagging resemblance to Groucho Marx. At this point the marching children are coming his way, almost up to him.)

DR. PANGLOSS (To Audience). Excuse me. Overslept again. What a night! (He strides in his new character up to the children, falling in behind them)

PUPILS (Instantly, oozing with respect). Dr. Pangloss!

(The parade reverses itself so that Dr. Pangloss is now in the lead. To the music he marches them to one of the large Stages which is set to appear like a very American 18th Century schoolroom, desks, a black oard with BEST OF ALL POSSIBLE . . . ? written on it and a portrait of the Baron looking very like George Washington. Cunegonde, Maximilian and Candide sit at the desks. Paquette, curtseying, exits. Pangloss yawning, hung-over, takes up his professorial stand in front of them, glares at them, suddenly produces from his cloak a chicken leg out of which he takes a large bite, then, pointing severely with the chicken leg at Maximilian)

DR. PANGLOSS. Syllogism Number One. Since this is the only possible

world, it follow . . .

MAXIMILIAN. . . . that this is the best of all possible worlds.

DR. PANGLOSS. Correct. (Lecherously caressing Cunegonde cheek) Ergo. Since this is the best of all possible worlds, it

follows . . .

CUNEGONDE. . . . that everything that happens in this world is for the

best.

DR. PANGLOSS. Correct. (An even lewder caress, then pointing the chicken leg at the mooning, inattentive Candide) Ergo. Since everything that happens in this world is for the best it follows . . .

CANDIDE. . . . that that is the best of all possible chicken legs?

DR. PANGLOSS (Cuffing him). Oaf!

(To Maximilian the pointed chicken leg)

MAXIMILIAN (Very smug). . . . that everything in this world is perfect the way it is.

DR. PANGLOSS. Correct. Quod Erat Demonstrandum. So if any man says

everything is well.

PUPILS. He lies. Everything is not well. Everything is for the

best in this best of all possible worlds.

(Dr. Pangloss and pupils sing)

SONG : "THE BEST OF ALL POSSIBLE WORLDS" (LESSON SONG) PANGLOSS.

Let us review Lesson Eleven.

PUPILS.

Paragraph two, axiom seven.

PANGLOSS.

ONCE ONE DISMISSES

THE REST OF ALL POSSIBLE WORLDS,

ONE FINDS THAT THIS IS

THE BEST OF ALL POSSIBLE WORLDS.

PUPILS.

ONCE ONE DISMISSES




PANGLOSS.

PRAY, CLASSIFY PIGEONS AND CAMELS.

PUPILS.

PIGEONS CAN FLY.

CAMELS ARE MAMMALS.

PANGLOSS.

THERE IS A REASON

FOR EV YTHING UNDER THE SUN.

PUPILS.

THERE IS A REASON


MAXIMILIAN.

OBJECTION!

WHAT ABOUT SNAKES?

PANGLOSS.

SNAKES.

WAS SNARE THAT TEMPTED MOTHER EVE.

BECAUSE OF SNAKE WE NOW BELIEVE

THAT HO DEPRAVED,

WE CAN BE SAVED

FROM HELL-FIRE AND DAMNATION.

PUPILS.

BECAUSE OF SNAKE TEMPTATION.

PANGLOSS.

IF SNAKE HAD NOT SEDUCED OUR LOT,

AND PRIMED US FOR SALVATION,

JEHOVAH COULD NOT PARDON ALL

THE S INS THAT WE CALL CARDINAL,

INVOLVING BED AND BOTTLE

NOW ON TO ARISTOTLE.

MANKIND IS ONE.

ALL MEN ARE BROTHERS.

PUPILS.

AS YOU HAVE DONE,

DO UNTO OTHERS.

PANGLOSS.

IT UNDERSTOOD IN

THIS BEST OF ALL POSSIBLE WORLDS.

PUPILS.

ALL IS FOR THE GOOD IN


CANDIDE.

OBJECTION! WHAT ABOUT WAR?

PANGLOSS.

WAR.

THOUGH WAR MAY SEEM A BLOODY CURSE,

IT IS A BLESSING IN REVERSE.

WHEN CANNON ROAR,

BOTH RICH AND POOR

BY DANGER ARE UNITED.

PUPILS.

IL EV YTHING WRONG IS RIGHTED.

PANGLOSS.

PHILOSOPHERS MADE EVIDENT

THE POINT THAT I HAVE CITED.

IS WAR MAKES EQUAL,

AS IT WERE,

THE NOBLE AND THE COMMONER,

THUS WAR IMPROVES RELATIONS.

NOW ON TO CONJUGATIONS.

AMO, AMAS, AMAT, AMAMUS.

PUPILS.


PANGLOSS.

PROVING THAT THIS IS

THE BEST OF AL POSSIBLE WORLDS.

WITH LOVE AND KISSES,


PUPILS.



WITH LOVE AND KISSES


PANGLOSS.

QUOD ERAT DEMONSTRADUM!

Q. E. D.

AMO, AMAS.

AMAT, AMAMUS.

Q. E. D.


CUNEGONDE, CANDIDE, MAXIMILIAN, PANGLOSS.

QUOD ERAT DEMONSTRANDUM

IN THIS BEST OF ALL POSSIBLE, POSSIBLE, POSSIBLE WORLDS!

QUOD ERAT DEMONSTRANDUM!

(After the song)

DR. PANGLOSS. Syllogism Number Two. Since everything is made for a

reason it follows . . .

MAXIMILIAN. . . . that everything is made for the best reason.

DR. PANGLOSS. Par exemplum. A leg is made . . .

CUNEGONDE (Innocently revealing hers). To walk.

DR. PANGLOSS (Appreciates leg). A belly is made . . .

MAXIMILIAN. To digest.

DR. PANGLOSS (To Candide who is gazing mooningly at Cunegonde). A mouth is made . . .

CANDIDE. To kiss.

DR. PANGLOSS (Clouting him). Wrong, wrong, wrong. This is a classroom. Not the gutter. (Pointing to Maximilian)

MAXIMILIAN (Smug). To eat.

DR. PANGLOSS. Ergo. Since every part of the body is made for the best

of all possible reasons, it follows that every part of the State which

is merely a body in macrocosm is made of the best of all possible

reasons. Everything is perfect the way it is and everything that

happens however seemingly unpleasant on the surface happens for

a supremely benign purpose. Par exemplum . . .

(Paquette enters with a stein of beer on a tray. Pangloss, grabbing the beer, ogles Paquette)

DR. PANGLOSS. Class dismissed. It is time for Mademoiselle Paquette

lesson in advanced physics. Off, off.

(He shoos the pupils away. Cunegonde, as she leaves, glances back at Paquette, clearly curious as to what the physics lesson may involve. She hesitates, then, disingenuously drops her hand erchief and exits after the boys)

DR. PANGLOSS (Instantly, he starts to undo the willing Paquette blouse). No fleas?

PAQUETTE. Oh no, sir, I e scrubbed.

(He throws her down on the floor and starts to mount her. Cunegonde returns "for her handker hief", is fascinated by the scientific experiment spread out on the floor beside her. She moves to Pangloss, tapping him on the shoulder)

CUNEGONDE. Excuse me, sir.

DR. PANGLOSS (Looking up, embarrassed but only for a moment). Certainly. What is it?

CUNEGONDE. You know of my interest in science, sir. I realize this

experiment may be a little advanced for me, but would you be kind enough

to explain it?

DR. PANGLOSS. Gladly. It is to study the specific gravity of two

bodies, the male and the female. If the partners stand with their bodies

erect . . . so . . . (He pulls Paquette up to her feet to standing position) the lips connected so . . . (Demonstrates) . . . the arms to insure firm contact . . . so . . . (Puts his arms around her) . . . it will be observed that the female body, its specific gravity lower,

will tend to fall backwards . . . (Demonstrates) . . . the male body following it in a symmetrical curve . . . (On top of Paquette again) thus demonstrating amongst other things the most natural and

complementary juxtaposition of the male and female bodies.

CUNEGONDE. I see. Thank you, sir. I appreciate your taking the

time to enlighten me. (She leaves)

PAQUETTE (Giggling). From now on there won be a pantry boy safe from that one specific gravity.

DR. PANGLOSS. Spread your legs, girl.

(He resumes mounting her as the scene blacks out and we see on another Stage, as Underscoring starts, Candide, stripped to the waist, practicing chinning himself on the branch of an artificial tree. Cunegonde enters, stops, watching his naked chest, enthralled for a moment. Candide, seeing her, confused, drops from the tree)

CANDIDE. Goodday, Mademoiselle Cunegonde.

CUNEGONDE. Good day, dear Candide. (Pause) Candide?

CANDIDE. (Eager) Yes, Mademoiselle Cunegonde.

CUNEGONDE. As my faithful friend and companion from the cradle, would

you consider attempting one of our dear master physical experiments

even though it is somewhat ahead of our curriculum?

CANDIDE. Anything for you, Mademoiselle Cunegonde.

Candide

The 1973 Libretto

Chelsea Theater Production

Second Draft (August 14, 1973)

Note: Although this early draft of Hugh Wheeler's book would be revised

before production began, most of the dialogue would remain intact. At

this point he had not received Stephen Sondheim's lyrical contributions.

In most instances, Wheeler indicates where those contributions would be

placed.

Home

DR. VOLTAIRE'S CANDIDE

A musical

Music by Leonard Bernstein

Lyrics by Richard Wilbur and .....?

Book by Hugh Wheeler

As the Overture starts, a shaft of light reveals an Eighteenth Century

chair at a table on which is an inkhorn, a large white quill pen and a

manuscript. For a moment we see only this, then gradually, very faintly,

we are aware of movement at some distance beyond it. Slowly the movement

defines itself. Two bright pink sheep (actors in skins) are gamboling

together. As they do so, movement starts elsewhere and as more light

concentrates, we see two grotesquely hooded penitentes, one of whom

carries a cross. In yet a third area movement gradually materializes

into four smartly drilling Bulgarian soldiers. We see alternately or

simultaneously as the nature of the music dictates, all these three

groups. Then, at a certain point, we make out, close to the table, a

simple bed in which someone is lying asleep. This figure sighs or moans

in its sleep and stirs, but does not awaken. An eighteenth century male

servant appears, carrying a mug of chocolate on a tray. He goes to the

bed, puts down the tray and shakes the sleeper's shoulder. The sleeper

sits up abruptly and instantly the dancing images disappear. The sleeper

is Voltaire as an old man. He wears a white nightshirt and a white

nightcap. As the servant leaves the room, He gets out of bed, coughs,

stretches, finds a glass of water, gargles, then puts on a heavy ornate

robe. Picking up the chocolate, He goes to the table and sits down. He

picks up the quill pen and surveys the manu cript. As he does so, the

three separate groups the soldiers, the penitentes and the pink sheep

reappear and merge into a dancing group only to vanish as the Overture

ends and bright lights concentrate on Voltaire, the pen in his hand, at

the table. Putting down the pen, Voltaire finds and puts on an Eighteenth

Century pair of spec acles, pick up the manuscript.

VOLTAIRE (Reading). In Westphalia in the castle of the Baron

Thunder-Ten-Tronck, there lived four young people. All of them were

very happy because they knew they were living in the best of all possible

castles in the best of all possible countries in the best of all possible

worlds. (He rises and starts toward one of the small curtained stages)

The happiest of them all was the noble youth Candide. Though merely a

bastard cousin, he was graciously permitted to wear the best second hand

clothes and . . . (He pulls a curtain revealing Candide with two attendant

huntsmen. Candide has a falcon on his wrist. As Voltaire reveals

them) . . . to fly the third best baronial falcon.

(Candide sings of the happiness of his lot in an eight bar passage taken

from the last main theme of the overture. This, of course, will have

to be a new song, that is, new lyrics)

SONG:

(After the song, he releases the falcon which is jerked clumsily from

his wrist and shoots upward stiffly to disappear. A second later, a large

stuffed swan clunks down on the stage. The huntsmen applaud)

HUNTSMEN. Bravo, bravo, Master Candide!

(Candide smiles with legitimate pride. Underscoring continues)

VOLTAIRE (Moving to another stage). The next happiest of the four was

probably the serving maid, Paquette.

(He draws curtains revealing Paquette, a very sexy girl, helping to dress

the immensely fat Baroness while the Baron stands watching)

VOLTAIRE. She enjoyed the honor of dressing the Baroness in the very

presence of the Baron himself and, for her willingness to co-operate,

was a favorite with all.

(Behind the Baroness back, the Baron lecherously ogles Paquette and

pinches her behind)

BARON (To Baroness). My dear, if you could spare this young wench for

a few minutes, she could grease my riding boots.

BARONESS. Of course, my Lord.

BARON (Leering at Paquette). I will await you in the stables. Bring

the lubricant!

PAQUETTE (Beaming at him sexily). Oh yes, my Lord. Willingly, my Lord.

(Voltaire is now moving to another stage)

VOLTAIRE. Also extremely happy was the Baron virgin daughter,

Cunegonde.

(He pulls a curtain revealing Cunegonde in innocent white, standing

beside a large artificial rose bush covered with huge white roses)

VOLTAIRE. Cunegonde knew she was not only the highest born maiden in

the land but also the prettiest. She was assured that she could look

forward to a tremendously advantageous marriage.

(To the same eight bars as Candide, Cunegonde sings of the happiness of

her lot)

SONG:

(After the song, she plucks a rose and carries it winsomely to her cheek.

The underscoring continues)

VOLTAIRE (Moving again). At the moment, the least happy of the four

though still happy was the Baron son Maximilian. (He pulls another

curtain to reveal Maximilian who is dressing himself also in virginal

white. In fact, his outfit is an exact masculine version of his sister

) Maximilian, being the handsomest youth in Westphalia, was naturally

and very sincerely devoted to his own person, but alas, a pimple just

under the left cheekbone! (Maximilian hand goes to his cheek,

discovers the pimple, reacts in horror. A male servant enters with his

cloak)

SERVANT. A delegation of villagers, sir, to pay homage.

MAXIMILIAN. Dismiss them! (Hysterically indicating the pimple)

Look, look. How can I receive even a peasant like this!

SERVANT (Sycophantic). Who could notice so trivial a blemish, Sir when,

with one smile from you, their eyes are dazzled?

MAXIMILIAN (Preening again). Well, there is a great deal of truth in

that. Admit them.

(Now all four stages are visible, the actors on them are frozen)

VOLTAIRE. If there was the faintest shadow to darken the idyllic

existence of these children, it lay in the fact that Candide except

when hunting could think of little else but the glorious hair and eyes

of Mlle Cunegonde.

(Candide moves forward from his group, a hand yearningly on his heart)

CANDIDE. Oh Mlle Cunegonde!

VOLTAIRE. . . . while Cunegonde, in spite of her exalted birth, was

alarmingly conscious of her bastard cousin strong young thighs.

(Cunegonde kisses the rose and sighs)


VOLTAIRE. However, except for this tiny flaw and the pimple their

innocent happiness was unstained.

(All four principals, from their positions, start to sing the next eight

measures of the theme of the new song, leaving their groups and marching

joyfully around the ramp. Group sings)

SONG:

VOLTAIRE (Over the music, to the Audience). You may ask, if you are of

a cynical turn of mind, how, even in this best of all possible castles,

such unique happiness should prevail. The answer is simple. (As he

talks, he starts shedding the robe, nightshirt etcetera, slowly

transforming himself) These admirable children had the great good

fortune to be instructed in the realities of Life by the wisest of all

possible philosophers and scientists a man to whom none of the secrets

of God mysterious ways lay unrevealed. This dazzling individual,

this paragon of human virtues was ever at readiness to mould and shape

his pupils minds and characters in that harmonious . . .

(He breaks off. By now he has transformed himself into a cheerful pedant

in cap and gown, bearing a nagging resemblance to Groucho Marx. At this

point the marching children are coming his way, almost up to him.)

DR. PANGLOSS (To Audience). Excuse me. Overslept again. What a night!

(He strides in his new character up to the children, falling in behind

them)

PUPILS (Instantly, oozing with respect). Dr. Pangloss!

(The parade reverses itself so that Dr. Pangloss is now in the lead. To

the music he marches them to one of the large Stages which is set to appear

like a very American 18th Century schoolroom, desks, a black oard with

BEST OF ALL POSSIBLE . . . ? written on it and a portrait of the Baron

looking very like George Washington. Cunegonde, Maximilian and Candide

sit at the desks. Paquette, curtseying, exits. Pangloss yawning,

hung-over, takes up his professorial stand in front of them, glares at

them, suddenly produces from his cloak a chicken leg out of which he takes

a large bite, then, pointing severely with the chicken leg at Maximilian)

DR. PANGLOSS. Syllogism Number One. Since this is the only possible

world, it follow . . .

MAXIMILIAN. . . . that this is the best of all possible worlds.

DR. PANGLOSS. Correct. (Lecherously caressing Cunegonde cheek)

Ergo. Since this is the best of all possible worlds, it follows . . .

CUNEGONDE. . . . that everything that happens in this world is for the

best.

DR. PANGLOSS. Correct. (An even lewder caress, then pointing the

chicken leg at the mooning, inattentive Candide) Ergo. Since

everything that happens in this world is for the best it follows . . .

CANDIDE. . . . that that is the best of all possible chicken legs?

DR. PANGLOSS (Cuffing him). Oaf!

(To Maximilian the pointed chicken leg)

MAXIMILIAN (Very smug). . . . that everything in this world is perfect

the way it is.

DR. PANGLOSS. Correct. Quod Erat Demonstrandum. So if any man says

everything is well.

PUPILS. He lies. Everything is not well. Everything is for the best

in this best of all possible worlds.

(Dr. Pangloss and pupils sing)

SONG : "THE BEST OF ALL POSSIBLE WORLDS" (LESSON SONG)

PANGLOSS.

Let us review Lesson Eleven.

PUPILS.

Paragraph two, axiom seven.

PANGLOSS.

ONCE ONE DISMISSES




PUPILS.

ONCE ONE DISMISSES




PANGLOSS.

PRAY, CLASSIFY PIGEONS AND CAMELS.

PUPILS.

PIGEONS CAN FLY.

CAMELS ARE MAMMALS.

PANGLOSS.

THERE IS A REASON


PUPILS.

THERE IS A REASON


MAXIMILIAN.

OBJECTION!

WHAT ABOUT SNAKES?

PANGLOSS.

SNAKES.

WAS SNARE THAT TEMPTED MOTHER EVE.

BECAUSE OF SNAKE WE NOW BELIEVE

THAT HO DEPRAVED,

WE CAN BE SAVED

FROM HELL-FIRE AND DAMNATION.

PUPILS.

BECAUSE OF SNAKE TEMPTATION.

PANGLOSS.

IF SNAKE HAD NOT SEDUCED OUR LOT,

AND PRIMED US FOR SALVATION,

JEHOVAH COULD NOT PARDON ALL

THE S INS THAT WE CALL CARDINAL,

INVOLVING BED AND BOTTLE

NOW ON TO ARISTOTLE.

MANKIND IS ONE.

ALL MEN ARE BROTHERS.

PUPILS.

AS YOU HAVE DONE,

DO UNTO OTHERS.

PANGLOSS.

IT UNDERSTOOD IN


PUPILS.

ALL IS FOR THE GOOD IN


CANDIDE.

OBJECTION! WHAT ABOUT WAR?

PANGLOSS.

WAR.

THOUGH WAR MAY SEEM A BLOODY CURSE,

IT IS A BLESSING IN REVERSE.

WHEN CANNON ROAR,

BOTH RICH AND POOR

BY DANGER ARE UNITED.

PUPILS.

IL EV YTHING WRONG IS RIGHTED.

PANGLOSS.

PHILOSOPHERS MADE EVIDENT

THE POINT THAT I HAVE CITED.

IS WAR MAKES EQUAL,

AS IT WERE,

THE NOBLE AND THE COMMONER,

THUS WAR IMPROVES RELATIONS.

NOW ON TO CONJUGATIONS.


PUPILS.


PANGLOSS.


THE BEST OF AL POSSIBLE WORLDS.

WITH LOVE AND KISSES,


PUPILS.



WITH LOVE AND KISSES


PANGLOSS.


Q. E. D.

AMO, AMAS.

AMAT, AMAMUS.

Q. E. D.


CUNEGONDE, CANDIDE, MAXIMILIAN, PANGLOSS.

QUOD ERAT DEMONSTRANDUM

IN THIS BEST OF ALL POSSIBLE, POSSIBLE, POSSIBLE WORLDS!

QUOD ERAT DEMONSTRANDUM!

(After the song)

DR. PANGLOSS. Syllogism Number Two. Since everything is made for a

reason it follows . . .

MAXIMILIAN. . . . that everything is made for the best reason.

DR. PANGLOSS. Par exemplum. A leg is made . . .

CUNEGONDE (Innocently revealing hers). To walk.

DR. PANGLOSS (Appreciates leg). A belly is made . . .

MAXIMILIAN. To digest.

DR. PANGLOSS (To Candide who is gazing mooningly at Cunegonde). A mouth

is made . . .

CANDIDE. To kiss.

DR. PANGLOSS (Clouting him). Wrong, wrong, wrong. This is a classroom.

Not the gutter. (Pointing to Maximilian)

MAXIMILIAN (Smug). To eat.

DR. PANGLOSS. Ergo. Since every part of the body is made for the best

of all possible reasons, it follows that every part of the State which

is merely a body in macrocosm is made of the best of all possible

reasons. Everything is perfect the way it is and everything that happens

however seemingly unpleasant on the surface happens for a supremely

benign purpose. Par exemplum . . .

(Paquette enters with a stein of beer on a tray. Pangloss, grabbing the

beer, ogles Paquette)

DR. PANGLOSS. Class dismissed. It is time for Mademoiselle Paquette

lesson in advanced physics. Off, off.

(He shoos the pupils away. Cunegonde, as she leaves, glances back at

Paquette, clearly curious as to what the physics lesson may involve. She

hesitates, then, disingenuously drops her hand erchief and exits after

the boys)

DR. PANGLOSS (Instantly, he starts to undo the willing Paquette

blouse). No fleas?

PAQUETTE. Oh no, sir, I e scrubbed.

(He throws her down on the floor and starts to mount her. Cunegonde

returns "for her handker hief", is fascinated by the scientific

experiment spread out on the floor beside her. She moves to Pangloss,

tapping him on the shoulder)

CUNEGONDE. Excuse me, sir.

DR. PANGLOSS (Looking up, embarrassed but only for a moment). Certainly.

What is it?

CUNEGONDE. You know of my interest in science, sir. I realize this

experiment may be a little advanced for me, but would you be kind enough

to explain it?

DR. PANGLOSS. Gladly. It is to study the specific gravity of two

bodies, the male and the female. If the partners stand with their bodies

erect . . . so . . . (He pulls Paquette up to her feet to standing position)

the lips connected so . . . (Demonstrates) . . . the arms to insure firm

contact . . . so . . . (Puts his arms around her) . . . it will be observed

that the female body, its specific gravity lower, will tend to fall

backwards . . . (Demonstrates) . . . the male body following it in a

symmetrical curve . . . (On top of Paquette again) thus demonstrating

amongst other things the most natural and complementary juxtaposition

of the male and female bodies.

CUNEGONDE. I see. Thank you, sir. I appreciate your taking the time

to enlighten me. (She leaves)

PAQUETTE (Giggling). From now on there won be a pantry boy safe from

that one specific gravity.

DR. PANGLOSS. Spread your legs, girl.

(He resumes mounting her as the scene blacks out and we see on another

Stage, as Underscoring starts, Candide, stripped to the waist, practicing

chinning himself on the branch of an artificial tree. Cunegonde enters,

stops, watching his naked chest, enthralled for a moment. Candide,

seeing her, confused, drops from the tree)

CANDIDE. Goodday, Mademoiselle Cunegonde.

CUNEGONDE. Good day, dear Candide. (Pause) Candide?

CANDIDE. (Eager) Yes, Mademoiselle Cunegonde.

CUNEGONDE. As my faithful friend and companion from the cradle, would

you consider attempting one of our dear master physical experiments

even though it is somewhat ahead of our curriculum?

CANDIDE. Anything for you, Mademoiselle Cunegonde.

CUNEGONDE. You are very civil. It concerns the relative specific

gravity of the male and female bodies. You put your arms around me . . .

so . . . (She puts the astonished but fervent Candide arms around her

waist) Next the lips make contact . . .

(She puts her mouth to his. The reaction in Candide is instantaneous

and enthusiastic. So is her response. They start to kiss wildly)

CANDIDE. Oh Mademoiselle Cunegonde!


CANDIDE. It isn possible!

CUNEGONDE. It isn possible!

CANDIDE. And yet for many months I have been dreaming of just such a

contact.

CUNEGONDE. I too have dreamed. But what are dreams but fancies? Oh

worthy Dr. Pangloss to have shown scientifically that this is the best

of all possible juxtapositions.

CANDIDE. Oh Cunegonde.

CUNEGONDE. Oh dear Candide, it has been proved without a shadow of doubt

that I regardless of my high position have been put on this world

to complement you.

CANDIDE. And I to complement you.

(They sing)

SONG: "OH HAPPY WE" (CANDIDE AND CUNEGONDE)

CANDIDE.

SOON, WHEN WE FEEL WE CAN AFFORD IT

WE'LL BUILD A MODEST LITTLE FARM.

CUNEGONDE.

BUY A YACHT AND LIVE ABOARD IT;

ROLLING IN LUXURY AND STYLISH CHARM.

CANDIDE.

COWS AND CHICKENS.

CUNEGONDE.

SOCIAL WHIRLS.

CANDIDE.

PEAS AND CABBAGE.

CUNEGONDE.

ROPES OF PEARLS

OH WON MY ROBES OF SILK AND SATIN

BE CHIC!

I L HAVE ALL THAT I DESIRE.

CANDIDE.

PANGLOSS WILL TUTOR US IN LATIN

AND GREEK,

WHILE WE SIT BEFORE THE FIRE.

CUNEGONDE.

GLOWING RUBIES.

CANDIDE.

GLOWING LOGS.

CUNEGONDE.

FAITHFUL SERVANTS.

CANDIDE.

FAITHFUL DOGS.

CUNEGONDE.

WE L ROUND THE WORLD ENJOYING HIGH LIFE,

ALL WILL BE PINK CHAMPAGNE AND GOLD.

CANDIDE. WE L LEAD A RUSTIC AND A SHY LIFE,

FEEDING THE PIGS AND SWEETLY GROWING OLD.

CUNEGONDE.

BREAST OF PEACOCK.

CANDIDE.

APPLE PIE.

CUNEGONDE.

I LOVE MARRIAGE.

CANDIDE.

SO DO I.

CUNEGONDE.

OH, HAPPY PAIR! OH, HAPPY WE!

IT VERY RARE HOW WE AGREE!

CANDIDE AND CUNEGONDE.





(Underscoring continues)

CUNEGONDE. And now, as the experiment progresses, you lean toward

me . . . (Pulling him toward her) . . . thus inducing my specific

gravity . . .

(She pulls him back to the floor on top of her. The wild kissing

continues. Candide strips off her blouse. He is mounting her as

Maximilian enters and gazes at them in horror)

MAXIMILIAN. What are you doing to my sister? You can do that to my

sister!

CUNEGONDE (Looking up from beneath Candide, sisterly). Foolish boy, run

away and play.

(Maximilian runs off. Candide and Cunegonde resume their love-making,

singing a brief reprise of O HAPPY WE, possibly the "0 happy we" section.

Maximilian runs on again, followed by the Baron and Baroness, then, after

a beat, by Dr. Pangloss and Paquette)

MAXIMILIAN. Look, look! Look what they e doing! Look!

(Candide and Cunegonde jump up, Cunegonde doing up her blouse)

CANDIDE. An experiment, sir.

CUNEGONDE. One of Dr. Pangloss noble experiments in physics which has

proved conclusively . . .

BARON (Swinging on Pangloss). Sir, are you responsible for this?

DR. PANGLOSS (Deeply shocked). Never, sir, has there been so false an

assumption. (Glaring at the two) An outrageous violation of all that

I stand for.

PAQUETTE (Equally holy). Me too!

CUNEGONDE. But, father, I love him.

CANDIDE. And I love her.

BOTH. We will be married at once.

BARON (Apoplectic). Married? My daughter?

BARONESS. To a bastard?

BARON. Curses on the day when my Christian charity bid me give asylum

to the sideswiped offspring of my sluttish sister. (Pointing a fierce

finger at Candide) Out!

BARONESS. Out!

MAXIMILIAN. Out!

PANGLOSS. Out!

PAQUETTE. Out!

CANDIDE. Oh dear Cunegonde!

CUNEGONDE. Oh beloved Candide.

BARON. Out, out, out! (He grabs Candide by the shoulders, turns him

around and starts viciously kicking him off toward the ramp) Dare to

set foot again in Westphalia and you l be strung from the highest gibbet.

(Candide now goes sprawling off onto the ramp where he lies supine. The

Baroness faints, Cunegonde bursts into hysterical weeping, tearing her

hair. Pangloss and Paquette look righteously shocked. The Baron and

Maximilian make a solid male phalanx)

BARON and MAXIMILIAN. The honor of our family is restored.

(The scene blacks out. Candide for a moment lies motionless on the ramp.

Then he sings:)

SONG: IT MUST BE SO (CANDIDE)

CANDIDE.

MY WORLD IS DUST NOW

AND ALL I LOVED IS DEAD

OH, LET ME TRUST NOW

IN WHAT MY MASTER SAID:

THERE IS A SWEETNESS IN EV Y WOE.

IT MUST BE SO.

IT MUST BE SO.

THE DAY WILL FIND ME

ALONE IN SOME STRANGE LAND.

BUT MEN ARE KINDLY:

THEY L GIVE A HELPING HAND.

SO SAID MY MASTER, AND HE MUST KNOW.

IT MUST BE SO.

IT MUST BE SO.

(After the song, Dr. Voltaire appears at some unexpected spot with a

primitive megaphone. here is a fanfare)

DR. VOLTAIRE (Through megaphone). What happens to the noble youth

Candide when obliged to fend for himself in this best of all possible

worlds!

(Candide, with difficulty, rises to his feet, staggers a few steps along

the ramp and then collapses. Two men, dressed in blue, enter, see him,

pause to look down at him)

FIRST MAN. A well-built youth.

SECOND MAN. About the right height too. (Taps Candide on the shoulder)

Good day, young man.

CANDIDE (Regaining consciousness, gazing up at them). Alas, it

hardly a good day for me, sirs. I am half dead from hunger and thirst.

FIRST MAN. That easily taken care of. There an inn just down the

road.

CANDIDE. Unfortunately, sir, I am penniless.

SECOND MAN. And about five feet five in height, would you say?

CANDIDE. Yes, sir, that is my height. But why . . . ?

FIRST MAN. Young man, we will buy you the largest breakfast obtainable

in Walderberg-Trabk-Dikdoff.

CANDIDE. You will?

FIRST MAN. What are Christian gentlemen for if not to help their brothers

in distress?

CANDIDE (Rising, beaming). Oh, thank you, thank you. This is a good

world. I knew it. I knew my dear master could not have been mistaken.

SECOND MAN. It is obvious to us, sir, that you are an affectionate youth

who can love tenderly.

CANDIDE. Oh yes, indeed. I love Mademoiselle Cunegonde with all the

tenderness in the world.

FIRST MAN. In fact, sir, we were referring to the King of the Bulgarians.

No doubt you love His Majesty unswervingly.

CANDIDE. Unfortunately, sir, I am not acquainted with the gentleman.

SECOND MAN. Ah! But were you to know him you could not fail to love

him. Here. You must drink to his health. (He produces a flask of wine,

offering it to Candide who takes it gratefully)

CANDIDE. Thank you, sir.

(Drinks. Instantly the attitude of the two men changes)

FIRST MAN. That it!

SECOND MAN. He has drunk the King health.

(The first man whips out handcuffs and manacles Candide wrists, the

second man produces leg irons and slams them onto Candide ankles. They

lift him up)

FIRST MAN (As they carry him off). You are now the support, the aid,

the defender, the hero of the Bulgarians. Your fortune is made and your

glory assured.

DR. VOLTAIRE (Appearing as they carry him up the ramp). Glory! That

most coveted of all rewards for human endeavour! How lucky is Candide

to be given, so quickly, the opportunity to achieve it. For Bulgaria

national honor is at stake. Her perfidious neighbor threatens to

wrest from her the vital Kronenberger-Dipstick-Rosenstock Bog three

and a half square miles of indispensable swampland which abuts their

mutual borders. What an honor for Candide to die fighting in its defense

against a vicious enemy. Of course, in this case, the enemy happens to

be his own beloved Westphalia. But then, life has its little ironies.

(As he speaks, to martial music, on another stage we become aware of a

Bulgarian sergeant drilling as many Bulgarian soldiers as are available,

with barked orders, stampings, precision turns etc. The two men,

carrying Candide, join them. They unmanacle him and thrust him into the

drilling group. The drilling continues with the bewildered Candide

doing his best to get into step etc. The drilling gets more and more

complicated, the shouted orders more frenetic. Eventually the sergeant

shouts, "Halt". The exhausted soldiers, including Candide, collapse

onto the ground)

DR. VOLTAIRE (Reappearing in another unexpected spot). One fine summer

morning, after ten days of heroic drilling and at a suitable break,

Candide, perplexed by his current circumstance, longing for Cunegonde,

strolls a few feet into a flowery meadow to commune with himself.

(As he speaks, Candide gets up from the sprawled mass of soldiers and,

to the underscoring of 0 HAPPY WE, strolls down the ramp to another stage

where he stands brooding)

CANDIDE. Oh Cunegonde, how odd that I, whose only wish is to hold you

in my arms again, am obliged to search for glory in the camp of your mortal

enemies. Can it be that some slight error has taken place somewhere?

DR. VOLTAIRE (As disembodied voice). For shame, young man. Have you

so little faith in your noble master philosophy?

CANDIDE. Oh thank you, sir whoever you are for those admonishing

words. Now I am sure again that, in spite of surface appearances, all

is indeed for the best. (As he speaks, the sergeant, noticing his absence,

blows shrilly on a whistle, jumps up, nodding to two soldiers)

SERGEANT. Deserter! Get the deserter!

(He and the soldiers come rushing down the ramp and jump on the surprised

Candide)

SERGEANT AND SOLDIERS (As they drag him off). Coward! Deserter! Foul

betrayer of the Fatherland.

(They bring him to a spot where a tremendously imposing general sits on

a horse. [NOTE: Possibly played by Voltaire] They plunk him down in front

of the general)

GENERAL. Of all offences against God and Man desertion is the most

heinous.

CANDIDE. But, sir, I was merely . . .

GENERAL. Silence for the verdict. Either you volunteer for the

spy-hunting exercise Number Two or you receive three lead bullets in your

brain. Since this is the free army of a free country, you have your free

choice.

CANDIDE. In that case, sir, the free choice I prefer that is, I mean

what I choose to do is to leave this free army and try to find

Mademoiselle Cunegonde again.

GENERAL. That is not one of the free choices available. There are only

the two I have indicated. Which shall it be?

CANDIDE. Then well, the spy hunting exercise Number Two, I suppose,

sir.

GENERAL (To sergeant). Give him the Westphalian cap and one minute

start.

(The sergeant thrusts a Westphalian cap on Candide head as a drum roll

sounds. Then he pushes him forward)

SERGEANT. Run, run, run for your life.

(Candide starts to run through the Audience)

SERGEANT (Counting down). Sixty seconds . . . forty seconds . . . fifteen

seconds . . . two seconds . . . NOW!

(The entire troop of soldiers starts dashing after Candide. There is

a wild chase up and down the ramps, onto and off stages, etc. until

Candide is finally cornered. All the soldiers converge on him, striking

savagely at him with fists, clubs etc. We see Candide sprawl out of the

scrimmage onto his back, panting, bleeding, more dead than alive)

CANDIDE (Moaning). Please! I beg you! The other free choice the

three lead bullets.

SERGEANT (Shouting). A pistol!

(A soldier gives him one. His legs astraddle Candide, the sergeant aims

the pistol at his temple. As he does so, a soldier runs up, panting)

SOLDIER. War is declared! The Fifth Regiment has crossed the

Westphalian border!

(The sergeant lowers the pistol, gestures at Candide)

SERGEANT. Patch him up. We l need him later.

(As he and the bulk of the soldiers rush off, two soldiers lift the half

dead Candide up and start to carry him down the ramp)

DR. VOLTAIRE (Reappearing with battle sounds behind him). Poor Candide,

deprived of his bid for glory! While the Bulgarians, inflamed by the

righteousness of their cause, sweep through Westphalia, slaughtering and

liberating the populace, our young friend is far behind the battle lines

with nothing more heroic to do but to resolve a few lingering

philosophical doubts.

(We see Candide on a small stage, seated perhaps in an anachronistic

wheel-chair. He has a neat white bandage around his temples and is

attended by a neat white hospital nurse)

CANDIDE.

( Singing)

MY MASTER TOLD ME

THAT MEN ARE LOVING-KIND:

YET NOW BEHOLD ME

ILL-USED AND SAD OF MIND.

MEN MUST HAVE KINDNESS I CANNOT SEE.

IT MUST BE ME.

IT MUST BE ME.

(On another stage we see the entire Thunder-Ten-Tronck family the

Baron, the Baroness, Maximilian and Cunegonde, on their knees before an

altar praying while the battle shouts etc. are heard off)

BARON. Almighty God who, in the beginning of time, bequeathed the sacred

Kronenburg-Dipstick-Rosenstock Bog to my most Christian ancestors, look

down and, in your infinite mercy, destroy the godless Bulgarian invaders.

BARONESS. Oh blessed Holy Mother, I vow a candle for every swinish

Bulgarian who bites the dust.

MAXIMILIAN. Oh God who has blessed me with the incomparable gift of

Beauty, see to it that, whatever holocaust occurs, my features may escape

disfigurement. For my admirers sake, Amen.

CUNEGONDE. Oh dear Lord, send my beloved Candide back to me for surely

he, and only he, can save me from the dreadful fate of ravishment.

(As they remain kneeling, their concentration entirely on the altar, two

Bulgarian soldiers with swords sweep up behind them. Like lightning,

they slaughter the Baron, the Baroness, and Maximilian with thrusts of

their swords. One soldier is about to spear Cunegonde. The other shoves

him roughly away and grabs her up in his arms)

CUNEGONDE (Struggling). Oh no! . . . oh sir! . . . oh please! . . .

Oh NO!

SOLDIER (Delighted with his acquisition). Ninety seven men in the

company at twenty ducats a screw! My fortune made!

(He carries her, kicking, off. The scene blacks out. Candide, who, through

this scene, has been sitting brooding, starts again to sing)

CANDIDE.

(Singing)

MY MASTER TOLD ME

THE WORLD IS WARM AND GOOD:

IT DEALS MORE COLDLY

THAN I HAD DREAMT I T WOULD.

THERE MUST BE SUNLIGHT I CANNOT SEE.

IT MUST BE ME.

IT MUST BE ME.

DR. VOLTAIRE (Appearing after the song in some new place). Fortunately

for the Westphalians, on the East salient, they were able to break through

the enemy infantry and slaughter exactly as many Bulgarians as they had

lost of their own kind thus restoring an admirable symmetry to this

best of all possible battles.

(As he speaks, we hear once again, off, drum rolls, sword clashes,

soldiers shouts etc. Behind Candide are revealed as. many of the

company as possible strewn across one side of the theater as slaughtered

Bulgarians)

DR. VOLTAIRE (Continued). Now, since the Bulgarian need for

reinforcements is crucial . . .

(The sergeant comes rushing up to Candide, tugs the bandage from his head)

SERGEANT. To your regiment instantly.

(Throws him a sword and runs off. Candide gets up with great difficulty,

tries to pick up the sword. It falls from his hand. He tries again,

manages to hold it and starts hobbling off up the ramp. He comes to the

corpses and, gazing down at them in horror, starts picking his way through

them. As he does so, on the other side of the theater, is revealed a

pile of Westphalian Corpses straw puppets. The soldier who abducted

Cunegonde enters with her slung, as if dead, over his shoulder. He tosses

her down on the pile of corpses and exits. Cunegonde stirs as the music

of 0 HAPPY WE starts)

CUNEGONDE. Oh dear Candide, where are the days when we dreamed and loved

in our innocence?

CANDIDE (Unaware of her, of course). Oh beloved Cunegonde, what cosmic

necessity brings me to this pass that I shoulder wander, without you,

through the corpses of blameless butchered citizens? Oh, Cunegonde!

(The lights black out except for spots on Candide and Cunegonde)

CANDIDE.

(Singing)

SOON, WHEN WE FEEL WE CAN AFFORD IT,

WE L BUILD A MODEST LITTLE FARM.

CUNEGONDE.

WE L BUY A YACHT AND LIVE ABOARD IT,

ROLLING IN LUXURY AND STYLISH CHARM.

CANDIDE.

COWS AND CHICKENS.

CUNEGONDE.

SOCIAL WHIRLS.

CANDIDE.

PEAS AND CABBAGE.

CUNEGONDE.

ROPES OF PEARLS.

WE L ROUND THE WORLD ENJOYING HIGH LIFE:

ALL WILL BE PINK CHAMPAGNE AND GOLD.

CANDIDE.

WE L LEAD A RUSTIC AND A SHY LIFE,

FEEDING THE PIGS AND SWEETLY GROWING OLD.

CUNEGONDE.

BREAST OF PEACOCK.

CANDIDE.

APPLE PIE.

CUNEGONDE.

I LOVE MARRIAGE.

CANDIDE.

SO DO I.

(The spots. black out)

DR. VOLTAIRE (Back now at his table). The war having ended in a deadlock

with the honor of both parties triumphantly exonerated, each of the two

Kings commands a celebration to give thanks to a co-operative Deity who

has granted them both their respective victories.

(We see the two conflicting victory celebrations the Bulgarian in one

area, the Westphalian in another. There are rival parades, banners,

priests with candles etc. in a big production number)

BULGARIANS.

GLORIA, GLORIA, GLORIA!

WESTPHALIANS.


BULGARIANS

HAIL TO THE HOME-COMING CONQUERORS!

WESTPHALIANS.

HAIL TO THE HOME-COMING CONQUERORS!

BULGARIANS

HOME FROM THE PATRIOTIC WARS!

WESTPHALIANS.

HOME FROM THE PATRIOTIC WARS!

BULGARIANS

BLOW, BUGLE, BLOW!

WESTPHALIANS.

BLOW, BUGLE, BLOW!

BULGARIANS.

BRAVO!

WESTPHALIANS.

BRAVO!

BULGARIANS.

DRUM, KETTLE-DRUM!

WESTPHALIANS.

DRUM, KETTLE-DRUM!

BULGARIANS.

WELCOME!

WESTPHALIANS.

WELCOME !

BULGARIANS and WESTPHALIANS.

HIP!

HIP!

HOORAY!


BULGARIANS (simultaneously with the WESTPHALIANS below).

BIS!

MORE!

LOUDER!

FASTER!

WESTPHALIANS (simultaneously with the BULGARIANS above).


GLORIA

GLORIA


(Dr. Voltaire is now seated at his original work table. He puts on his

spectacles, picks up the manuscript again. Behind him we still hear the

music of the GLORIA)

DR. VOLTAIRE. And what now of the noble Candide? What of the

unfortunate Cunegonde? I will tell you. Finally, on foot, Candide

reached that flourishing and most Christian of Protestant Republics

Holland. Once the good Burghers learned that he respected the Pope

that notorious Anti-Christ hey beat him a bit and shanghaied him

onto a sailing vessel carrying bibles to heathen Ireland. Cunegonde

aped no more than was reasonable under the circumstances was sold

to a tremendously rich Jew in Lisbon. This was a satisfactory

arrangement until one day at Mass the Grand Inquisitor set eyes on her

and claimed her as his own. A delicate situation until a logical

compromise was reached. The Jew had her Mondays, Tuesday and the

Sabbath, while the Grand Inquisitor took his pleasure for the rest of

the week. There was a certain friction as to who possessed her on the

night between Saturday and Sunday but let that pass. They were both

very generous to her and the natural ebullience of youth soon restored

her equanimity.

(We see Cunegonde on a small stage. She is fabulously dressed and is

playing with the jewels from a large casket. In mime, Don Issachar, the

Jew, enters, embraces her, takes a huge diamond six point star from his

neck, presents it to her and leaves. A beat, then the Grand Inquisitor

enters, embraces her, takes a huge diamond cross from around his neck,

presents it to her, leaves. She blows him a kiss. Alone, she sings:)

SONG: GLITTER AND BE GAY

CUNEGONDE.

GLITTER AND BE GAY,

THAT THE PART I PLAY.

HERE AM I, UNHAPPY CHANCE,

FORCED TO BEND MY SOUL

TO A SORDID ROLE,

VICTIMIZED BY BITTER, BITTER CIRCUMSTANCE.

ALAS FOR ME,

HAD I REMAINED BESIDE MY LADY MOTHER,

MY VIRTUE HAD REMAINED UNSTAINED

UNTIL MY MAIDEN HAND WAS GAINED

BY SOME GRAND DUKE OR OTHER.

AH, TWAS NOT TO BE;

HARSH NECESSITY

BROUGHT ME TO THIS GILDED CAGE.

BORN TO HIGHER THINGS,

HERE I DROOP MY WINGS, AH!

SINGING OF A SORROW NOTHING CAN ASSUAGE.

AND YET, OF COURSE,

I RATHER LIKE TO REVEL, HA HA!

I HAVE NO STRONG OBJECTION TO CHAMPAGNE, HA HA!

MY WARDROBE IS EXPENSIVE AS THE DEVIL, HA HA!

PERHAPS IT IS IGNOBLE TO COMPLAIN . . .

ENOUGH, ENOUGH

OF BEING BASELY TEARFUL!

I L SHOW MY NOBLE STUFF

BY BEING BRIGHT AND CHEERFUL!

HA HA HA HA HA HA! HA! (ETC.)

AND YET OF COURSE,

THESE TRINKETS ARE ENDEARING, HA, HA!

I OH, SO GLAD MY SAPPHIRE IS A STAR, HA HA!

I RATHER LIKE A TWENTY CARAT EARRING, HA HA!

IF I NOT PURE, AT LEAST MY JEWELS ARE!

ENOUGH, ENOUGH!

I L TAKE THEIR DIAMOND NECKLACE

AND SHOW MY NOBLE STUFF

BY BEING GAY AND RECKLESS!

HA HA HA HA (ETC.)

OBSERVE HOW BRAVELY I CONCEAL

THE DREADFUL, DREADFUL SHAME I FEEL.

HA HA HA HA (ETC.)

(After the song)

DR. VOLTAIRE (Rising and moving from the table). Since everything in

this best of all possible worlds is made for the best of all possible

reasons, it so happened at this time that a volcano near Lisbon fulfilled

its natural function by erupting.

(On a stage we see the tackiest representation of an earthquake. A

cardboard wall collapses, for example, onto a scattering of corpses

the puppets again sprawled on the ground. Dr. Voltaire is now

invisible to us)

DR. VOLTAIRE VOICE (Off). It was on this very day that Candide, having

been thrown overboard as a Jonah, crawled more dead than alive into a

fishing village at the very heart of the earthquake.

(We see Candide crawling on hands and knees into the disaster area. He

gets up, totters around, survey ng the corpses)

CANDIDE. Alas! An entire population wiped out by an erupting mountain!

What benign law of the universe, I wonder, could have made this cataclysm

essential?

(As he speaks, a filthy ragged beggar with a metal nose and fingers missing

staggers on, obviously dazed from the quake)

CANDIDE. God be praised another living soul. (He starts toward the

beggar) Oh poor unfortunate creature, a blessing on your unhappy head.

BEGGAR. How about a couple of cruzados instead?

(They gaze at each other, suddenly reacting in astonished delight)

CANDIDE. No!

BEGGAR. No!

CANDIDE. Dear Doctor Pangloss!

PANGLOSS. Dear Candide.

(They embrace)

CANDIDE. Tell me, sir, what of the others? How are they all at home?

How is Mademoiselle Cunegonde?

PANGLOSS (Cheerful). Dead.

CANDIDE (Appalled). Dead?

PANGLOSS. Dead, raped slaughtered all of them. Even I barely

escaped after an hour dazzling disquisition on the nature of mercy to

a very dense Bulgarian Corporal.

CANDIDE. Dead? Mademoiselle Cunegonde? Raped and dead? All of them?

Oh dear Master, how can such ghastly horrors befall in this best of all

possible worlds?

PANGLOSS (Even more cheerful). Never forget, my son, the sacred laws

of probability. Were they all to have lived longer who knows what crueler

fate may have been in store for them? Excuse me.

(As he sneezes he whips out a dirty handkerchief bringing it to his absent

nose. For the first time Candide notices the nose and the missing

fingers)

CANDIDE. Oh, Master, your nose, your fingers. What atrocity has

overtaken you.

PANGLOSS (Beaming). No atrocity, my son. These are merely the

necessary side factors of God most exquisite gift to his faithful

children. Love.

CANDIDE. Love?

PANGLOSS. You remember, of course, your noble aunt serving maid

Paquette. In her arms I enjoyed the delights of Paradise which

harmoniously brought with them the equivalent tortures of Hell.

CANDIDE (Tentative). The law of counterbalances?

PANGLOSS. The same.

CANDIDE. And Paquette! Was she too slaughtered in cold blood to

preserve her from some crueler fate?

PANGLOSS. As report would have it, yes.

(Sings)

She is dead, she is dead.

My poor darling Paquette:

Still, she is living with me yet.

CANDIDE.

Ring-around-a-rosy,

Ring-around-a-rosy,

Ring-around-a-rosy,

Please explain.

PANGLOSS.


My poor darling Paquette:

Still, she is living with me yet.

CANDIDE.

If she's dead, as you said,

We are filled with regret.

PANGLOSS.


My poor darling Paquette.

CANDIDE.

But how can you say she's passed away

And living with you yet?

PANGLOSS.

Oh my darling Paquette, she is haunting me yet

With a dear souvenir I shall never forget:

was a gift that she got from a sea-faring Scot,

He received, he believed, in a shallot.

In a shallot from his dame, who was certain it came

With a kiss from a Swiss she'd forgotten his name

ut he told her that he had been given it free

From a sweet little cheat in Paree.

Then a man from Japan; then a moor from Iran

Though the moor isn't sure where the whole thing began

But the gift you can see had a long pedigree

When at last it was passed on to me!

PAQUETTE with MEN.

Then a man from Japan; then a moor from Iran

Though the moor isn't sure where the whole thing began

But the gift you can see had a long pedigree

When at last it was passed on to he!

PANGLOSS.

Love is sweet, love is sweet.

And the custom is sound,

For it makes the world go round.

PAQUETTE with MEN.

We repeat, love is sweet,

And the custom is sound,

PANGLOSS.

For as I have shown,

It is love alone

That makes the world go round.

PAQUETTE.

Well, the moor in the end spent a night with a friend,

And the dear souvenir just continued the trend

To a young English lord, who was stung, they record,

By a wasp in a hospital ward.

Well, the wasp on the wing had occasion to sting

A Milano soprano, who brought home the thing

To her young paramour, who was rendered impure,

And forsook her to look for the cure.

Thus he happened to pass through Westphalia, alas,

Where he met with Paquette and she drank from his glass;

I was pleased as can be when it came back to me,

akes us all just a small family.

PAQUETTE and PANGLOSS.

Oh, he happened to pass through Westphalia, alas,

Where he met with Paquette and she drank from his glass;

I am/he is pleased as can be for it shows us/him that we

One and all are a small family.

PANGLOSS.

All for love, all for love,

May its pleasures abound;

For it makes the world go round.

PAQUETTE, PANGLOSS and MEN.

All for love, all for love,

May its pleasures abound;

For as I/you have shown

It's love alone

That makes the world go round!

(After the song, with underscoring continuing right through this scene)

DR. PANGLOSS (Indestructibly cheerful as ever). A scourge, as you see,

sir. But a scourge which exquisitely illustrates the Great Law of

Compensation. Syphilis, for such is the name of the ailment, was

discovered in the New World and if the New World had not been discovered,

how should we have been blest with chocolate, tobacco and the potato?

CANDIDE (Impressed). I am, I admit, extremely fond of the potato.

PANGLOSS. So you see? Even the blackest-seeming disasters are merely

blessings in disguise in a world where everything is for the best.

(One of the corpses an actor stirs and moans)

MAN (Half rising). Help me. For the love of God help me.

CANDIDE (Running to him). Here I am, sir. Whatever I can do for you,

I am at your service.

MAN. Did I not hear your friend say that everything in this world is

for the best?

PANGLOSS (Swaggering over). That, sir, is an axiom.

MAN. Then, since to you everything is for the best, am I to suppose you

do not believe in original sin?

PANGLOSS. Since everything is for the best, sir, it follows that the

Fall of Man was merely a necessary feature of the eternal whole. Ergo,

for the best.

MAN (Suddenly jumping up). Heresy! Heresy!

(He blows a whistle from around his neck. Instantly two agents of the

Inquisition run on)

MAN (Continued). Gentlemen, I am an authorized agent of the Holy

Inquisition. Arrest these men as foul and foreign heretics.

(The two agents leap on Pangloss and Candide, overcome them and drag them

off. The man drops to his knees in a posture of prayer)

MAN. Almighty God, I thank you for granting me this morning the

inestimable privilege to root out and extirpate yet another two loathely

minions of the Devil making the week take eighteen. (Crosses

himself) Ave Maria etc. . . .

(The scene blacks out. Dr. Voltaire appears, changing from his Pangloss

clothes into his Voltaire clothes.)

[NOTE: From hereon, his costume changes get quicker and quicker,

presenting more and more problems for him which we exploit]

DR. VOLTAIRE. After the earthquake which destroyed three-quarters of

Lisbon, the Holy Inquisition discovered an infallible remedy for

preventing such disasters in future. And the remedy? To purge the city

of its heretics in a splendid auto da fe for the Glory of God and the

edification of the general public.

(As he speaks, on the large un urtained stage, we see the public square

in Lisbon. There is a raised dais for the Grand Inquisitor and his

attendant judges. A gibbet and a whipping post. Two heretics in tall

penitente hoods, kneel before the dais. The populace is excitedly

milling around and singing: )

ONE GROUP.

What a day, what a day,

For an autodafe!

What a sunny summer sky!


For an autodafe!

It's a lovely day for drinking

And for watching people die!

What a perfect day to be a money lender!

Or a tradesman, or a merchant or a vendor!

At a good exciting lynching

People stop their penny pinching

And the tightest fellow turns into a spender!

SECOND GROUP.

What it day, what a day,

For an autodafe!

What a lovely day to die!

Tourist trade, tourist trade,

Will be coning our way!

It a bonnie day for business,

Better raise the prices high!

For an inquisition day this is a wonder!

Not a raindrop, not a cloud or sound of thunder!

So we l gaily get polluted

Watching sinners executed!

It a perfect bit of weather to get under!

DR. VOLTAIRE. The populace is most appreciative of the Inquisitor

selfless efforts on their behalf. Particularly appreciative is a

young person who . . .

(The actress playing Paquette comes running on in Portuguese peasant

costume, clicking castanets)

DR. VOLTAIRE. . . . as you see, bears a remarkable. resemblance to our

own Paquette that is, remarkable for a Portuguese.

(Paquette and Company do a dance. After the dance, the number continues:)

ONE GROUP.


For an autodafe!

What a sunny summer sky!


For an autodafe!

Let the unbelievers die

Souls in sin cannot win

Let them plead what they may

We will wring confession from 'em

Then we'll hang 'em up to dry

It is proper to be orthodox

And pious nonconformists!

It simply horrifies us!

So we'll listen to their cases

And we'll spit into their faces

And we'll hang 'em without prejudice or witchin!

SECOND GROUP.

What it day, what a day,

For an autodafe!

And the prices are so high!

We don't care, we don't care

What prices we pay!

It a lovely day for spending

It's a lovely day to buy!

All week we slave and struggle

in the kitchen,

or we e cutting

or we e basting

or we e stitching

but on Wednesday

we go shopping

And we gossip without stopping

While we watch m do a wizard or a witchin!

CHORUS.

HURRY, HURRY, HURRY (ETC.)

WATCH M DIE!

HA!

HURRY, HURRY, HURRY (ET . )

HANG M HIGH!

WHAT A DAY, WHAT A DAY

FOR AN AUTODAFE!

WHAT A SUNNY 8UMMER DAY!

WHAT A DAY; WHAT A DAY!

FOR AN AUTODAFE!

WHAT A LOVELY DAY FOR HANGING

AND FOR WATCHING PEOPLE DIE.

(After the number, Cunegonde, splendidly dressed, attended by an Old

Lady, appears in a box. A beat later the Grand Inquisitor with two

attendant judges, makes his entry to a fanfare. As he passes Cunegonde

on his way to the dais, he ogles her lecherously. Once the Inquisitor

and judges have taken their places . . . )

SONG: "THE INQUISITION"

3 JUDGES.

SHALL WE LET THE SINNER GO, OR TRY HIM?

CHORUS

TRY HIM.

3 JUDGES.

IS THE CULPRIT INNOCENT OR GUILTY?

CHORUS.

GUILTY.

3 JUDGES.

SHALL WE PARDON HIM, OR HANG HIM?

CHORUS.

HANG HIM.

WHAT A LOVELY DAY, WHAT A JOLLY DAY!

WHAT A DAY FOR A HOLIDAY!



HE DON MIX MEAT AND DAIRY.

HE DON EAT HUMBLE PIE.

SO SING A MI8ERERE,

AND HANG THE BASTARD HIGH!

3 JUDGES.

SHALL WE DOUBT THE CHARGES OR APPROVE THEM?

CHORUS.

PROVE THEM.

3 JUDGES.

SHALL WE SHOW THIS HELPFUL WITNESS MERCY?

CHORUS.

MERCY.

3 JUDGES.

SHALL WE GIVE HIM FIVE OR TEN YEARS?

CHORUS.

TEN YEARS.

WHAT A CHARMING DAY, WHAT A JOLLY DAY,


WHAT A CHARMING DAY, WHAT A JOLLY DAY,


AT FIRST HE LIED AND FRISKED US,

BUT NOW HE SUNG HIS TALE.

SO BID HIM BENEDICTUS

AND LET HIM SING IN JAIL!

3 JUDGES.

ARE OUR METHODS LEGAL OR ILLEGAL?

CHORUS.

LEGAL.

3 JUDGES.

ARE WE JUDGES OF THE LAW, OR LAY-MEN?

CHORUS.

A-MEN.

3 JUDGES.

SHALL WE HANG THEM OR FORGET THEM?

CHORUS.

GET THEM!





WHEN FOREIGNERS LIKE THIS COME

TO CRITICIZE AND SPY

WE CHANT A PAX-VOBISCUM,

AND HANG THE BASTARDS HIGH!

WHAT A DAY, WHAT A DAY!

OH, WHAT A DAY, WHAT A DAY!

OH, WHAT A DAY, WHAT A PERFECT DAY FOR HANGING!









AT LAST WE CAN BE CHEERY.

THE HANGER PASSED US BY.

SO CHANT A DIES IRAE.

WE L HANG THE BASTARDS HIGH!!

OH, WHAT A DAY!!

(As one heretic is dragged offstage, the other toward the gibbet)

(The agent we have seen before, runs on dragging two more hooded

penitentes, one of them carries a cross. These are Pangloss and Candide)

AGENT (Prostrating himself before the Inquisitor). Your Holiness, I

humbly provide you with two more heretics rescued from the snares of the

Devil solely by my indefatigable vigilance. Shall I recite to you, Your

Holiness, their unspeakable blasphemies against the Holy Mother Church?

INQUISITOR (A trifle bored). Why not?

AGENT (Dragging Pangloss forward). This pernicious limb of Satan denied

the existence of Original Sin!

CROWD (Appalled). No!

(Crowd crosses themselves)

INQUISITOR. Hang him!

(Guards whip off Pangloss hood, revealing his identity and start to

drag him to the gibbet)

CUNEGONDE (Reacting). Oh no! Can it be? My beloved Master!

AGENT (Presenting Candide). And this unregenerate youth consented to

listen to him.

CROWD (Shocked). No!

(Cross themselves)

INQUISITOR (After whispered consultation with other judges). Flog him!

(GUARDS instantly strip Candide stark naked)

CUNEGONDE (Reacting more to Candide seductive nakedness than to his

predicament). Oh no! It is! That pearly white skin! That

unmistakably Westphalian skin! (To Old Lady) That chest! Those

thighs! How dare they mutilate so godlike a body?

(As Pangloss is dragged toward the gibbet, Candide is dragged to the

whipping post)

INQUISITOR (As cathedral bell chimes). The hour approaches for High Mass

and my sacred duties must be fulfilled. Let God merciful and

corrective will be served to its divine conclusion without my holy

presence.

(He rises and with great dignity departs. As he passes the distracted

Cunegonde box, he winsomely pinches her cheek and exits. Pangloss now

stands with the noose around his neck. Candide is tied to the whipping

post. From the Cathedral Off Stage we hear either (a) a regular church

TE DEUM or (b) Bernstein's FONS PIETATIS, page 65 in printed score. In

rhythm to it, one executioner starts flogging Candide as the second

prepares to release the trap under Pangloss and the other heretic)

CUNEGONDE (With a shriek). Alack, the day. (She faints)

CHORUS.

(Singing)

WHAT A DAY, WHAT A DAY

OH, WHAT A DAY, WHAT A DAY

OH, WHAT A DAY, WHAT A. PERFECT DAY FOR A HANGING!

WHAT A LOVELY DAY, WHAT A JOLLY DAY

WHAT A DAY FOR A HOLIDAY

WHAT A LOVELY DAY, WHAT A JOLLY DAY

WHAT A DAY FOR A HOLIDAY

WHAT A LOVELY DAY . . .

(Pangloss, on the gibbet, raises his hand. The chorus instantly breaks

off. There is dead silence)

DR. PANGLOSS. Ladies and gentlemen, one final word in praise of the

universal laws of Science. God in his wisdom made it possible to invent

the rope and what is the rope for but to create a noose? And, Glory be

to the Greatest Philosophers, what is a neck for but to be . . .

(The hangman releases the trap. Pangloss and the other heretic are

hanged. As the scene blacks out:)

CHORUS.

(Singing)

. . . WHAT A JOLLY DAY

WHAT A DAY FOR A HOLIDAY.

(The crowd disperses, leaving Candide alone, naked, tied to the whipping

post, half-collapsed onto the ground)

CANDIDE (Stirring, returning to consciousness). My master hanged! And

I, after countless other humiliations and defeats, flogged by the Mother

Church herself for no cause whatsoever! How can a man believe in a benign

Providence and still keep his sanity? To what purpose was this world

created?

DR. VOLTAIRE (OFF, as disembodied voice). To drive men mad.

CANDIDE. Who was that? Who spoke?

DR. VOLTAIRE. Who but yourself whose faith is fragile as a straw in the

wind? Only believe.

CANDIDE. Believe!

DR. VOLTAIRE. From what is worst, what can come but something better?

(Candide slumps down again uncon cious. After a beat, the Old Lady

whom we have seen in attendance on Cunegonde enters, goes to him, starts

to undo his bonds. As the lights black out on them, Dr. Voltaire enters

as himself but with Pangloss rope still around his neck. Remembering,

with a little cluck, he removes the rope, tossing it in the wings)

DR. PANGLOSS. Good fortune can appear in many guises even in the

person of this totally unknown old lady who carries .him to safety where,

with magic ointments known only to the old ladies of this world, she

speedily restores him to health and vigor.

(On another stage we see the Old Lady putting a robe on Candide in mime.

She takes out a blindfold and ties it across his eyes. She takes his

hand and starts to lead him up the ramp toward Dr. Voltaire who stands

by a curtain. As they reach him, he pulls the curtain, revealing

Cunegonde ravishingly dressed in a negligee and wearing a veil. The Old

Lady leads Candide onto the stage, whips off his blindfold and,

curtseying, withdraws. Candide gazes at the veiled lady and bows)

CANDIDE. Oh Madame, is it indeed you who sent the faithful old lady to

nurse me in my hour of need and to restore to me my former vigor?

(Cunegonde removes the veil. Candide, staggered, gazes at her. Candide

and Cunegonde sing:)

SONG: YOU WERE DEAD, YOU KNOW

CANDIDE.

OH. OH. IS IT TRUE?

CUNEGONDE.

IS IT YOU?

CANDIDE.

CUNEGONDE!

CUNEGONDE.

CANDIDE!

CANDIDE.

CUNEGONDE!

CUNEGONDE.

CANDIDE!

CANDIDE.

CUNEGONDE!

CUNEGONDE.

CAN . . .

CANDIDE.

OH. OH. IS IT TRUE?

CUNEGONDE.

IS IT YOU? CANDIDE! DEAR, MY LOVE !

CANDIDE.

CUNEGONDE ! OH MY LOVE, DEAR LOVE!

CANDIDE.

DEAREST, HOW CAN THIS BE SO?

YOU WERE DEAD, YOU KNOW.

YOU WERE SHOT AND BAYONETTED, TOO.

CUNEGONDE.

THAT IS VERY TRUE.

AH, BUT LOVE WILL FIND A WAY.

CANDIDE.

THEN WHAT DID YOU DO?

CUNEGONDE.

WE L GO INTO THAT ANOTHER DAY.

NOW LETS TALK OF YOU.

YOU ARE LOOKING VERY WELL.

WEREN YOU CLEVER, DEAR, TO SURVIVE?

CANDIDE.

I E A SORRY TALE TO TELL.

I ESCAPED MORE DEAD THAN ALIVE.

CUNEGONDE.

LOVE OF MINE, WHERE DID YOU GO?

CANDIDE.

OH, I WANDERED TO AND FRO . . .

CUNEGONDE.

OH, WHAT TORTURE, FAR FROM HOME . . .

CANDIDE.

HOLLAND, PORTUGAL AND ROME

CUNEGONDE.

AH, WHAT TORTURE . . .

CANDIDE.

HOLLAND, PORTU . . .

CUNEGONDE.

AH, WHAT TORTURE

CANDIDE.

I WOULD DO IT ALL AGAIN

TO FIND YOU AT LAST!

CUNEGONDE and CANDIDE.

REUNITED AFTER SO MUCH PAIN

BUT THE PAIN IS PAST.

CUNEGONDE.

WE ARE ONE AGAIN.

CANDIDE.

WE ARE ONE AT LAST!

CUNEGONDE and CANDIDE.

ONE AGAIN, ONE AT LAST

ONE AGAIN, ONE AT LAST

ONE, ONE, ONE, ONE,

ONE AT LAST!

(The Old Lady runs agitatedly in. Candide and Cunegonde break away from

each other)

OLD LADY. Oh Madame, the Jew!

CUNEGONDE. Oh no! The Jew?

CANDIDE (Blank). The Jew?

(At this point Issachar the Jew, magnificently dressed, is visible coming

up the ramp)

OLD LADY. Oh quick, Madame, as you value your life! (She runs out)

CANDIDE. Pardon me, Mademoiselle Cunegonde but who is this Jew?

CUNEGONDE. Oh dearest Candide, so much has happened to me since we

parted, all of it for the best, I sure, but not at all as I expected

it. You see . . .

(She breaks off as Issachar, rubbing his hands in anticipation, enters

the room, then sees Candide)

ISSACHAR (In furious rage). What? What is this? What bitch of a

Gallilean? Is it not enough that you deceive me with his Holiness the

Grand Inquisitor? Must I sneered at and cheated as I am in this city

of Godless Goyim endure this additional humiliation? (Drawing his

sword on the bewildered Candide) Cur! Cur! Cur of a Christian Dog!

(He lunges at Candide who backs away. Issachar pursues him around the

room. At one point he stumbles, trips and falls, dropping his sword)

CANDIDE (Always courteous, running to help). Oh sir, I trust you have

not injured yourself. (Helps him up, picks up the sword) Here, sir.

Your sword, sir.

(Issachar, now blind with rage, hurls himself at Candide. In the process

he manages to spear himself on his own sword. He drops dead)

CANDIDE (Looking down at the corpse in horror). I have been instrumental

in the death of a fellow human being! I who have nothing but love in

my heart. How could it have happened? Oh, Mademoiselle Cunegonde, how

can you ever forgive me?

CUNEGONDE. No, no. Never reproach yourself. Oh Candide, now I can

tell you the truth. Although he was kind and gentle for a Jew, for the

past three months, he has been taking advantage of me.

CANDIDE (Appalled). Advantage?

CUNEGONDE. Yes, yes. Oh dearest Candide, what onslaughts have taken

place on my virtue. And yet one fact has been triumphantly revealed to

me. Repeated ravishment of the body cannot affect the heart. Through

it all through all of it my love for you has remained unsullied.

Oh Candide, oh beloved, we are together again and now all will be well.

(She throws herself in his arms. They kiss passionately. The Grand

Inquisitor enters)

INQUISITOR. Fair one, it is midnight. Yet another delicious Sunday

commences for us and . . . (He breaks off, stunned, as he sees the embrace.

Candide breaks away. At his iciest) Sir!

CANDIDE (polite). Sir! (To Cunegonde) Pardon me, Mademoiselle

Cunegonde, but who is this gentleman.

CUNEGONDE. Do you not recognize him? It is the Grand Inquisitor

himself. And his jealousy is implacable.

CANDIDE. Jealousy! You mean he too . . . ?

CUNEGONDE. Both of them sharing me separate days.

INQUISITOR (Recovering his speech). You will both be burnt at the stake

tomorrow.

CUNEGONDE (To Candide). You see?

CANDIDE (Gazing at the Inquisitor). The man who had me flogged, the man

who hung my master, the man who defiled my love!

CUNEGONDE. Repeatedly for several months!

CANDIDE. A dilemma indeed. As a faithful Christian, I know I should

submit myself to His Holiness in all matters. And yet, under these

circumstances . . .

CUNEGONDE. Oh yes! Under these circumstances . . . (Stoops, picks up

Issachar sword, holds it out to Candide)

CANDIDE (Taking the sword, apologetic to Inquisitor). Pardon me, sir.

Perhaps my beloved Master had he lived would have advised otherwise.

But I see only one alternative. Pax Vobiscum. (He spears the Inquisitor

on the sword. The Inquisitor drops dead. Aghast, staring down at the

two bodies) Another! I have killed another! Two mortal crimes in as

many minutes!

CUNEGONDE. But for love! And surely love condones all!

(She hurls herself, weeping, into his arms. The Old Lady enters, sees

the corpses)

OLD LADY (To Cunegonde, clucking). Leave you alone for five minutes!

CUNEGONDE (Running to her). Oh noble old lady, we are lost. Oh dear

one who all these months has so faithfully instructed me, employ that

sagacious brain of yours. Save us, save us.

OLD LADY (Promptly). Cadiz!

CANDIDE. Cadiz?

OLD LADY. There are two horses in the stables; the night is dark. We

l be across the border by morning. Painful though it will be for me

with only one buttock, I will ride behind my mistress. (To Cunegonde)

Quick. A cloak the most valuable. (Cunegonde runs to get it. To

Candide) You, young man, the jewels, the moidores, the cruzados. (As

Candide runs for the jewel box, surveys the corpses) Praise be to God

that my lady two seducers were men of property. Would I had been that

lucky! Ah well, His Holiness will be buried in the Cathedral with the

greatest pomp while the Jew will be thrown in the sewer. There are

advantages to being a Christian after all. Quick, quick, let us flee.

(They all start for the door)

CANDIDE (In spite of the situation, over helmed with curiosity).

Excuse me, Madame, but did you say one buttock?

OLD LADY. A time may come, young man, when I will freeze your ears with

the tale of my many calamities, but that time is not now. To the stables!

(They exit. We now hear tremendously Spanish and fiery guitar music

which continues throughout this scene. Dr. Voltaire appears)

DR. VOLTAIRE. The flight across the border was achieved without a hitch

and yet, the next morning, in a travellers inn outside Cadiz . . .

(On a small stage we see Candide, Cunegonde and the Old Lady asleep on

pallets on the floor. Cunegonde stirs, wakes, looks around her with

increasing anxiety. She jumps up, starting to search hysterically)

CUNEGONDE. Oh no, oh no!

CANDIDE (Waking up). Beloved, what is it?

CUNEGONDE. My jewels, my moidores, my cruzados! Gone, gone, all gone.

Oh where shall we find other generous Jews and Inquisitors to reimburse

us?

OLD LADY. (Now awake) The jewels gone?

CANDIDE and CUNEGONDE. All! All gone!

OLD LADY (Rising, philosophical). It must have been the Franciscan

Father who shared my bed last night.

CANDIDE (Astonished). At your age, Madame?

OLD LADY (Preening, straightening her dress). To some, young man, my

charms have far from waned. Ah well, since the blame is attached to me,

it is my responsibility to repair our fortunes.

(Produces a rose which she sticks in her teeth)

CANDIDE. Pardon me, Madame, but how do you propose... ?

OLD LADY (Leering at him through the rose). Wait, young man. And see.

(With Candide and Cunegonde following, she starts up the ramp toward the

large uncurtained stage where actors now dressed as Spaniards bring in

a small central fountain and start parading around it, including three

very rich, very old dons. The Old Lady, still with the rose in her teeth,

enters voluptuously, followed at a discreet distance by Candide and

Cunegonde. The Old Lady undulates sexily up to the three old dons)

OLD LADY. Buenos tardes, Senores. It is your privilege to encounter

the greatest courtesan from Paris, France. All one needs to enjoy her

immortal favors is a princely sum.

(While the populace stare, she tosses her head, does a few dance steps

and, dancing the while sings:)

SONG: I AM EASILY ASSIMILATED

OLD LADY.

I was not born in sunny Hi

Documents

Candide musical