Irony of ironies! The diseased, pathetic beggar turned out to be that confident exponent of optimism, the learned Doctor Pangloss, and he had a most dismal report of what had been happening in the best of all possible worlds. Candide's adored Cunégonde was dead. After having swooned and then revived, Candide might well have asked, "Ah, best of worlds, where are you?" — especially when he learned that she had been repeatedly ravished and then disemboweled by Bulgarian soldiers, who had cut her to pieces, smashed the head of the baron, killed his son, and destroyed everything — more evidence of the heroics of warfare.
Once more Candide swooned. When he revived, he inquired of his mentor the cause and effect, the sufficient reason, which had reduced Pangloss to such a pitiable state. He learned that his mentor and Paquette, pretty attendant of the baroness, had become intimate. But earlier Paquette had become infected with a social disease as a result of relations with a learned Franciscan. Pangloss then traced the infection back to companions of Columbus, who first brought it from the New World. "Wasn't the devil the root of this strange genealogy?" asked Candide. But he is assured that all was logical and for the best: had not Columbus and his men sailed to the New World, Europe would not now enjoy chocolate or cochineal; the reason had been sufficient. And is it not marvelous how the disease has spread?
