"Miss Cunegund," replied he, "is to do me the honor to marry me, and
we humbly beseech Your Excellency to condescend to grace the
ceremony with your presence."
Don Fernando d'Ibaraa y Figueora y Mascarenes y Lampourdos y
Souza, twirling his mustachio, and putting on a sarcastic smile,
ordered Captain Candide to go and review his company. The gentle
Candide obeyed, and the Governor was left with Miss Cunegund. He
made her a strong declaration of love, protesting that he was ready to
give her his hand in the face of the Church, or otherwise, as should
appear most agreeable to a young lady of her prodigious beauty.
Cunegund desired leave to retire a quarter of an hour to consult the
old woman, and determine how she should proceed.
The old woman gave her the following counsel:
"Miss, you have seventy-two quarterings in your arms, it is true,
but you have not a penny to bless yourself with. It is your own
fault if you do not become the wife of one of the greatest noblemen in
South America, with an exceeding fine mustachio. What business have
you to pride yourself upon an unshaken constancy? You have been
outraged by a Bulgarian soldier; a Jew and an Inquisitor have both
tasted of your favors. People take advantage of misfortunes.
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