Large sheets of flames and cinders covered the streets and
public places; the houses tottered, and were tumbled topsy-turvy
even to their foundations, which were themselves destroyed, and thirty
thousand inhabitants of both sexes, young and old, were buried beneath
the ruins.
The sailor, whistling and swearing, cried, "Damn it, there's
something to be got here."
"What can be the sufficing reason of this phenomenon?" said
Pangloss.
"It is certainly the day of judgment," said Candide.
The sailor, defying death in the pursuit of plunder, rushed into the
midst of the ruin, where he found some money, with which he got drunk,
and, after he had slept himself sober he purchased the favors of the
first good-natured wench that came in his way, amidst the ruins of
demolished houses and the groans of half-buried and expiring persons.
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.
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