"Oh! what a superior man," said Candide below his breath. "What a great genius is this Pococurante! Nothing can please him." After their survey of the library they went down into the garden, where Candide praised its several beauties. "I know of nothing in so bad a taste," said the master. "All you see here is merely trifling. After to-morrow I will have it planted with a nobler design." "Well," said Candide to Martin when they had taken their leave, "you will agree that this is the happiest of mortals, for he is above everything he possesses." "But do you not see," answered Martin, "that he is disgusted with all he possesses? Plato observed a long while ago that those stomachs are not the best that reject all sorts of food." "But is there not a pleasure," said Candide, "in criticising everything, in pointing out faults where others see nothing but beauties?" "That is to say," replied Martin, "that there is some pleasure in having no pleasure." "Well, well," said Candide, "I find that I shall be the only happy man when I am blessed with the sight of my dear Cunegonde." "It is always well to hope," said Martin. However, the days and the weeks passed. Cacambo did not come, and Candide was so overwhelmed with grief that he did not even reflect that Paquette and Friar Giroflee did not return to thank him. XXVI OF A SUPPER WHICH CANDIDE AND MARTIN TOOK WITH SIX STRANGERS, AND WHO THEY WERE.[34] One evening that Candide and Martin were going to sit down to supper with some foreigners who lodged in the same inn, a man whose complexion was as black as soot, came behind Candide, and taking him by the arm, said: "Get yourself ready to go along with us; do not fail." Upon this he turned round and saw--Cacambo! Nothing but the sight of Cunegonde could have astonished and delighted him more. He was on the point of going mad with joy. He embraced his dear friend. "Cunegonde is here, without doubt; where is she? Take me to her that I may die of joy in her company." "Cunegonde is not here," said Cacambo, "she is at Constantinople." "Oh, heavens! at Constantinople! But were she in China I would fly thither; let us be off." "We shall set out after supper," replied Cacambo. "I can tell you nothing more; I am a slave, my master awaits me, I must serve him at table; speak not a word, eat, and then get ready." Candide, distracted between joy and grief, delighted at seeing his faithful agent again, astonished at finding him a slave, filled with the fresh hope of recovering his mistress, his heart palpitating, his understanding confused, sat down to table with Martin, who saw all these scenes quite unconcerned, and with six strangers who had come to spend the Carnival at Venice. Cacambo waited at table upon one of the strangers; towards the end of the entertainment he drew near his master, and whispered in his ear: "Sire, your Majesty may start when you please, the vessel is ready."