At Mass one day, the Grand Inquisitor himself took much interest in her, and he sent word that he had secret matters to discuss with her. At his palace, when Cunégonde identified herself as a lady of high rank, he reproached her for being in the possession of an Israelite. On the Grand Inquisitor's behalf, Don Issachar was asked to yield her to that high-ranking official. But the Israelite was not without his influence, for he was, among other things, court banker. He refused to comply. The Grand Inquisitor's passion for Cunégonde would not let him give up the attempt to gain her for himself. Finally, Don Issachar agreed that the two men would share her and the house. The Jew was to have her on Monday and Wednesday, his rival to have her on Sunday. The design for living did not make for complete tranquility; but, more important, so far Cunégonde had succeeded in resisting both men, whose love became more ardent for that very reason.
It was to prevent earthquakes and to frighten Don Issachar that the Inquisitor had decided to "celebrate" an auto-da-fé, Cunégonde explained. At that assembly, she was an honored guest and was among those served refreshments between Mass and the executions. She was appalled to witness the burnings and was utterly horrified to see first the hanging of Pangloss and then the flogging of the naked Candide. She found herself too weak to cry out in protest. One thought possessed her: Doctor Pangloss had deceived her when he had called this the best of all possible worlds.
It was Cunégonde who had instructed the old woman to find her lover and bring him to the house in the wood. She expressed her joy at meeting him again, and the two sat down to supper. But soon Don Issachar arrived. It was Sunday, and he had come to enjoy his rights.
