Chapter 30 — the garden

Candide has no real wish to marry Cunégonde. But the Baron's impertinence makes him determined, and Cunégonde presses him so strongly he cannot go back on his word. Cacambo proposes the cleverer course: hand the Baron back to the captain of the galley and ship him to the General Father of his order in Rome on the first ship. For a little money the thing is done. They have the double pleasure of entrapping a Jesuit and punishing the pride of a German baron. The little community settles on a small Turkish farm. The local Jews cheat Candide so thoroughly that he has nothing left but the farm. His wife grows uglier and more peevish. Cacambo, working in the garden, is exhausted. Pangloss is in despair at not shining at a German university. Martin alone bears it patiently.

From the windows they see boats full of Effendis being sent into banishment, and others coming to take their places and being exiled in turn; heads neatly impaled to be presented to the Sublime Porte. The old woman ventures the chapter's question: which is worse — to be raped a hundred times by pirates, to have a buttock cut off, to run the Bulgarian gauntlet, to be whipped at an auto-da-fé, to be dissected, to row in the galleys — or to stay here with nothing to do? They consult a famous Dervish, esteemed the best philosopher in Turkey. Pangloss asks: tell us why so strange an animal as man was made. The Dervish answers: what business is that of yours? When his Highness sends a ship to Egypt, does he trouble himself over whether the mice on board are comfortable? Then what must we do? "Hold your tongue." He shuts the door in their faces.

Walking home they meet an old man under a bower of orange trees. Pangloss asks the name of the strangled Mufti they have just heard about. The old man does not know — he never concerns himself with what happens in Constantinople; he sends his garden's produce there for sale. "You must have a vast and magnificent estate," says Candide. "I have only twenty acres," replies the old man. "I and my children cultivate them. Our labor preserves us from three great evils — boredom, vice, and want." Walking back, Candide thinks. Pangloss launches one last lecture, citing kings of antiquity who all came to bad ends. Candide cuts him off: I know also that we must cultivate our garden. Martin: let us work without arguing. Cunégonde becomes an excellent pastry cook; Paquette works at embroidery; Friar Giroflée becomes a competent carpenter. Pangloss occasionally says: there is a concatenation of events in this best of all possible worlds — if you had not been kicked out of the castle, if you had not been put into the Inquisition, if you had not lost all your sheep, you would not be here eating candied citron and pistachios. Candide: "All that is very well, but let us cultivate our garden."