["[Event happened on 2024-01-01 The user is reading a book]\n<User> Half dead of that inconceivable anguish which the rolling of a ship\nproduces, one-half of the passengers were not even sensible of the\ndanger. The other half shrieked and prayed. The sheets were rent, the\nmasts broken, the vessel gaped. Work who would, no one heard, no one\ncommanded. The Anabaptist being upon deck bore a hand; when a brutish\nsailor struck him roughly and laid him sprawling; but with the violence\nof the blow he himself tumbled head foremost overboard, and stuck upon a\npiece of the broken mast. Honest James ran to his assistance, hauled him\nup, and from the effort he made was precipitated into the sea in sight\nof the sailor, who left him to perish, without deigning to look at him. Candide drew near and saw his benefactor, who rose above the water one\nmoment and was then swallowed up for ever. He was just going to jump\nafter him, but was prevented by the philosopher Pangloss, who\ndemonstrated to him that the Bay of Lisbon had been made on purpose for\nthe Anabaptist to be drowned. While he was proving this _a priori_, the\nship foundered; all perished except Pangloss, Candide, and that brutal\nsailor who had drowned the good Anabaptist. The villain swam safely to\nthe shore, while Pangloss and Candide were borne thither upon a plank. As soon as they recovered themselves a little they walked toward Lisbon. They had some money left, with which they hoped to save themselves from\nstarving, after they had escaped drowning. Scarcely had they reached the\ncity, lamenting the death of their benefactor, when they felt the earth\ntremble under their feet. The sea swelled and foamed in the harbour, and\nbeat to pieces the vessels riding at anchor. Whirlwinds of fire and\nashes covered the streets and public places; houses fell, roofs were\nflung upon the pavements, and the pavements were scattered. Thirty\nthousand inhabitants of all ages and sexes were crushed under the\nruins. [4] The sailor, whistling and swearing, said there was booty to be\ngained here. \"What can be the _sufficient reason_ of this phenomenon?\" said Pangloss. \"This is the Last Day!\" cried Candide. The sailor ran among the ruins, facing death to find money; finding it,\nhe took it, got drunk, and having slept himself sober, purchased the\nfavours of the first good-natured wench whom he met on the ruins of the\ndestroyed houses, and in the midst of the dying and the dead. Pangloss\npulled him by the sleeve. \"My friend,\" said he, \"this is not right. You sin against the _universal\nreason_; you choose your time badly.\" \"S'blood and fury!\" answered the other; \"I am a sailor and born at\nBatavia. Four times have I trampled upon the crucifix in four voyages to\nJapan[5]; a fig for thy universal reason.\" Some falling stones had wounded Candide. He lay stretched in the street\ncovered with rubbish. \"Alas!\" said he to Pangloss, \"get me a little wine and oil; I am dying.\" \"This concussion of the earth is no new thing,\" answered Pangloss. \"The\ncity of Lima, in America, experienced the same convulsions last year;\nthe same cause, the same effects; there is certainly a train of sulphur\nunder ground from Lima to Lisbon.\" \"Nothing more probable,\" said Candide; \"but for the love of God a little\noil and wine.\" \"How, probable?\" replied the philosopher. \"I maintain that the point is\ncapable of being demonstrated.\" Candide fainted away, and Pangloss fetched him some water from a\nneighbouring fountain. The following day they rummaged among the ruins\nand found provisions, with which they repaired their exhausted strength. After this they joined with others in relieving those inhabitants who\nhad escaped death. Some, whom they had succoured, gave them as good a\ndinner as they could in such disastrous circumstances; true, the repast\nwas mournful, and the company moistened their bread with tears; but\nPangloss consoled them, assuring them that things could not be\notherwise. \"For,\" said he, \"all that is is for the best. If there is a volcano at\nLisbon it cannot be elsewhere. It is impossible that things should be\nother than they are; for everything is right.\" A little man dressed in black, Familiar of the Inquisition, who sat by\nhim, politely took up his word and said:\n\n\"Apparently, then, sir, you do not believe in original sin; for if all\nis for the best there has then been neither Fall nor punishment.\" \"I humbly ask your Excellency's pardon,\" answered Pangloss, still more\npolitely; \"for the Fall and curse of man necessarily entered into the\nsystem of the best of worlds.\" \"Sir,\" said the Familiar, \"you do not then believe in liberty?\" \"Your Excellency will excuse me,\" said Pangloss; \"liberty is consistent\nwith absolute necessity, for it was necessary we should be free; for, in\nshort, the determinate will----\"\n\nPangloss was in the middle of his sentence, when the Familiar beckoned\nto his footman, who gave him a glass of wine from Porto or Opporto. After the earthquake had destroyed three-fourths of Lisbon, the sages of\nthat country could think of no means more effectual to prevent utter\nruin than to give the people a beautiful _auto-da-fe_[6]; for it had\nbeen decided by the University of Coimbra, that the burning of a few\npeople alive by a slow fire, and with great ceremony, is an infallible\nsecret to hinder the earth from quaking. In consequence hereof, they had seized on a Biscayner, convicted of\nhaving married his godmother, and on two Portuguese, for rejecting the\nbacon which larded a chicken they were eating[7]; after dinner, they\ncame and secured Dr. Pangloss, and his disciple Candide, the one for\nspeaking his mind, the other for having listened with an air of\napprobation. They were conducted to separate apartments, extremely cold,\nas they were never incommoded by the sun. Eight days after they were\ndressed in _san-benitos_[8] and their heads ornamented with paper\nmitres. The mitre and _san-benito_ belonging to Candide were painted\nwith reversed flames and with devils that had neither tails nor claws;\nbut Pangloss's devils had claws and tails and the flames were upright. They marched in procession thus habited and heard a very pathetic\nsermon, followed by fine church music. Candide was whipped in cadence\nwhile they were singing; the Biscayner, and the two men who had refused\nto eat bacon, were burnt; and Pangloss was hanged, though that was not\nthe custom. The same day the earth sustained a most violent concussion. Candide, terrified, amazed, desperate, all bloody, all palpitating, said\nto himself:\n\n\"If this is the best of possible worlds, what then are the others? Well,\nif I had been only whipped I could put up with it, for I experienced\nthat among the Bulgarians; but oh, my dear Pangloss! thou greatest of\nphilosophers, that I should have seen you hanged, without knowing for\nwhat! Oh, my dear Anabaptist, thou best of men, that thou should'st have\nbeen drowned in the very harbour! Oh, Miss Cunegonde, thou pearl of\ngirls! that thou should'st have had thy belly ripped open!\" Thus he was musing, scarce able to stand, preached at, whipped,\nabsolved, and blessed, when an old woman accosted him saying:\n\n\"My son, take courage and follow me.\" Candide did not take courage, but followed the old woman to a decayed\nhouse, where she gave him a pot of pomatum to anoint his sores, showed\nhim a very neat little bed, with a suit of clothes hanging up, and left\nhim something to eat and drink. \"Eat, drink, sleep,\" said she, \"and may our lady of Atocha,[9] the great\nSt. Anthony of Padua, and the great St. James of Compostella, receive\nyou under their protection. I shall be back to-morrow.\" Candide, amazed at all he had suffered and still more with the charity\nof the old woman, wished to kiss her hand. \"It is not my hand you must kiss,\" said the old woman; \"I shall be back\nto-morrow. Anoint yourself with the pomatum, eat and sleep.\" Candide, notwithstanding so many disasters, ate and slept. The next\nmorning the old woman brought him his breakfast, looked at his back, and\nrubbed it herself with another ointment: in like manner she brought him\nhis dinner; and at night she returned with his supper. The day following\nshe went through the very same ceremonies. \"Who are you?\"\n\n<System> Please remember what the user reads on 2024-01-01, save the details within the book, and retain a summary of the book the user has read so far.", "[Event happened on 2024-01-02 The user is reading a book]\n<User> said Candide; \"who has inspired you with so much\ngoodness? What return can I make you?\" The good woman made no answer; she returned in the evening, but brought\nno supper. \"Come with me,\" she said, \"and say nothing.\" She took him by the arm, and walked with him about a quarter of a mile\ninto the country; they arrived at a lonely house, surrounded with\ngardens and canals. The old woman knocked at a little door, it opened,\nshe led Candide up a private staircase into a small apartment richly\nfurnished. She left him on a brocaded sofa, shut the door and went away. Candide thought himself in a dream; indeed, that he had been dreaming\nunluckily all his life, and that the present moment was the only\nagreeable part of it all. The old woman returned very soon, supporting with difficulty a trembling\nwoman of a majestic figure, brilliant with jewels, and covered with a\nveil. \"Take off that veil,\" said the old woman to Candide. The young man approaches, he raises the veil with a timid hand. Oh! what a moment! what surprise! he believes he beholds Miss Cunegonde? he\nreally sees her! it is herself! His strength fails him, he cannot utter\na word, but drops at her feet. Cunegonde falls upon the sofa. The old\nwoman supplies a smelling bottle; they come to themselves and recover\ntheir speech. As they began with broken accents, with questions and\nanswers interchangeably interrupted with sighs, with tears, and cries. The old woman desired they would make less noise and then she left them\nto themselves. \"What, is it you?\" said Candide, \"you live? I find you again in\nPortugal? then you have not been ravished? then they did not rip open\nyour belly as Doctor Pangloss informed me?\" \"Yes, they did,\" said the beautiful Cunegonde; \"but those two accidents\nare not always mortal.\" \"But were your father and mother killed?\" \"It is but too true,\" answered Cunegonde, in tears. \"And your brother?\" \"My brother also was killed.\" \"And why are you in Portugal? and how did you know of my being here? and\nby what strange adventure did you contrive to bring me to this house?\" \"I will tell you all that,\" replied the lady, \"but first of all let me\nknow your history, since the innocent kiss you gave me and the kicks\nwhich you received.\" Candide respectfully obeyed her, and though he was still in a surprise,\nthough his voice was feeble and trembling, though his back still pained\nhim, yet he gave her a most ingenuous account of everything that had\nbefallen him since the moment of their separation. Cunegonde lifted up\nher eyes to heaven; shed tears upon hearing of the death of the good\nAnabaptist and of Pangloss; after which she spoke as follows to Candide,\nwho did not lose a word and devoured her with his eyes. \"I was in bed and fast asleep when it pleased God to send the Bulgarians\nto our delightful castle of Thunder-ten-Tronckh; they slew my father and\nbrother, and cut my mother in pieces. A tall Bulgarian, six feet high,\nperceiving that I had fainted away at this sight, began to ravish me;\nthis made me recover; I regained my senses, I cried, I struggled, I bit,\nI scratched, I wanted to tear out the tall Bulgarian's eyes--not knowing\nthat what happened at my father's house was the usual practice of war. The brute gave me a cut in the left side with his hanger, and the mark\nis still upon me.\" \"Ah! I hope I shall see it,\" said honest Candide. \"You shall,\" said Cunegonde, \"but let us continue.\" \"Do so,\" replied Candide. Thus she resumed the thread of her story:\n\n\"A Bulgarian captain came in, saw me all bleeding, and the soldier not\nin the least disconcerted. The captain flew into a passion at the\ndisrespectful behaviour of the brute, and slew him on my body. He\nordered my wounds to be dressed, and took me to his quarters as a\nprisoner of war. I washed the few shirts that he had, I did his cooking;\nhe thought me very pretty--he avowed it; on the other hand, I must own\nhe had a good shape, and a soft and white skin; but he had little or no\nmind or philosophy, and you might see plainly that he had never been\ninstructed by Doctor Pangloss. In three months time, having lost all his\nmoney, and being grown tired of my company, he sold me to a Jew, named\nDon Issachar, who traded to Holland and Portugal, and had a strong\npassion for women. This Jew was much attached to my person, but could\nnot triumph over it; I resisted him better than the Bulgarian soldier. A\nmodest woman may be ravished once, but her virtue is strengthened by it. In order to render me more tractable, he brought me to this country\nhouse. Hitherto I had imagined that nothing could equal the beauty of\nThunder-ten-Tronckh Castle; but I found I was mistaken. \"The Grand Inquisitor, seeing me one day at Mass, stared long at me, and\nsent to tell me that he wished to speak on private matters. I was\nconducted to his palace, where I acquainted him with the history of my\nfamily, and he represented to me how much it was beneath my rank to\nbelong to an Israelite. A proposal was then made to Don Issachar that he\nshould resign me to my lord. Don Issachar, being the court banker, and a\nman of credit, would hear nothing of it. The Inquisitor threatened him\nwith an _auto-da-fe_. At last my Jew, intimidated, concluded a bargain,\nby which the house and myself should belong to both in common; the Jew\nshould have for himself Monday, Wednesday, and Saturday, and the\nInquisitor should have the rest of the week. It is now six months since\nthis agreement was made. Quarrels have not been wanting, for they could\nnot decide whether the night from Saturday to Sunday belonged to the old\nlaw or to the new. For my part, I have so far held out against both, and\nI verily believe that this is the reason why I am still beloved. \"At length, to avert the scourge of earthquakes, and to intimidate Don\nIssachar, my Lord Inquisitor was pleased to celebrate an _auto-da-fe_. He did me the honour to invite me to the ceremony. I had a very good\nseat, and the ladies were served with refreshments between Mass and the\nexecution. I was in truth seized with horror at the burning of those two\nJews, and of the honest Biscayner who had married his godmother; but\nwhat was my surprise, my fright, my trouble, when I saw in a\n_san-benito_ and mitre a figure which resembled that of Pangloss! I\nrubbed my eyes, I looked at him attentively, I saw him hung; I fainted. Scarcely had I recovered my senses than I saw you stripped, stark naked,\nand this was the height of my horror, consternation, grief, and despair. I tell you, truthfully, that your skin is yet whiter and of a more\nperfect colour than that of my Bulgarian captain. This spectacle\nredoubled all the feelings which overwhelmed and devoured me. I screamed\nout, and would have said, 'Stop, barbarians!' but my voice failed me,\nand my cries would have been useless after you had been severely\nwhipped. How is it possible, said I, that the beloved Candide and the\nwise Pangloss should both be at Lisbon, the one to receive a hundred\nlashes, and the other to be hanged by the Grand Inquisitor, of whom I am\nthe well-beloved? Pangloss most cruelly deceived me when he said that\neverything in the world is for the best. \"Agitated, lost, sometimes beside myself, and sometimes ready to die of\nweakness, my mind was filled with the massacre of my father, mother, and\nbrother, with the insolence of the ugly Bulgarian soldier, with the stab\nthat he gave me, with my servitude under the Bulgarian captain, with my\nhideous Don Issachar, with my abominable Inquisitor, with the execution\nof Doctor Pangloss, with the grand Miserere to which they whipped you,\nand especially with the kiss I gave you behind the screen the day that I\nhad last seen you. I praised God for bringing you back to me after so\nmany trials, and I charged my old woman to take care of you, and to\nconduct you hither as soon as possible. She has executed her commission\nperfectly well; I have tasted the inexpressible pleasure of seeing you\nagain, of hearing you, of speaking with you. But you must be hungry, for\nmyself, I am famished; let us have supper.\"\n\n<System> Please remember what the user reads on 2024-01-02, save the details within the book, and retain a summary of the book the user has read so far.", "[Event happened on 2024-01-05 The user is reading a book]\n<User> They both sat down to table, and, when supper was over, they placed\nthemselves once more on the sofa; where they were when Signor Don\nIssachar arrived. It was the Jewish Sabbath, and Issachar had come to\nenjoy his rights, and to explain his tender love. This Issachar was the most choleric Hebrew that had ever been seen in\nIsrael since the Captivity in Babylon. \"What!\" said he, \"thou bitch of a Galilean, was not the Inquisitor\nenough for thee? Must this rascal also share with me?\" In saying this he drew a long poniard which he always carried about him;\nand not imagining that his adversary had any arms he threw himself upon\nCandide: but our honest Westphalian had received a handsome sword from\nthe old woman along with the suit of clothes. He drew his rapier,\ndespite his gentleness, and laid the Israelite stone dead upon the\ncushions at Cunegonde's feet. \"Holy Virgin!\" cried she, \"what will become of us? A man killed in my\napartment! If the officers of justice come, we are lost!\" \"Had not Pangloss been hanged,\" said Candide, \"he would give us good\ncounsel in this emergency, for he was a profound philosopher. Failing\nhim let us consult the old woman.\" She was very prudent and commenced to give her opinion when suddenly\nanother little door opened. It was an hour after midnight, it was the\nbeginning of Sunday. This day belonged to my lord the Inquisitor. He\nentered, and saw the whipped Candide, sword in hand, a dead man upon the\nfloor, Cunegonde aghast, and the old woman giving counsel. At this moment, the following is what passed in the soul of Candide, and\nhow he reasoned:\n\nIf this holy man call in assistance, he will surely have me burnt; and\nCunegonde will perhaps be served in the same manner; he was the cause of\nmy being cruelly whipped; he is my rival; and, as I have now begun to\nkill, I will kill away, for there is no time to hesitate. This reasoning\nwas clear and instantaneous; so that without giving time to the\nInquisitor to recover from his surprise, he pierced him through and\nthrough, and cast him beside the Jew. \"Yet again!\" said Cunegonde, \"now there is no mercy for us, we are\nexcommunicated, our last hour has come. How could you do it? you,\nnaturally so gentle, to slay a Jew and a prelate in two minutes!\" \"My beautiful young lady,\" responded Candide, \"when one is a lover,\njealous and whipped by the Inquisition, one stops at nothing.\" The old woman then put in her word, saying:\n\n\"There are three Andalusian horses in the stable with bridles and\nsaddles, let the brave Candide get them ready; madame has money, jewels;\nlet us therefore mount quickly on horseback, though I can sit only on\none buttock; let us set out for Cadiz, it is the finest weather in the\nworld, and there is great pleasure in travelling in the cool of the\nnight.\" Immediately Candide saddled the three horses, and Cunegonde, the old\nwoman and he, travelled thirty miles at a stretch. While they were\njourneying, the Holy Brotherhood entered the house; my lord the\nInquisitor was interred in a handsome church, and Issachar's body was\nthrown upon a dunghill. Candide, Cunegonde, and the old woman, had now reached the little town\nof Avacena in the midst of the mountains of the Sierra Morena, and were\nspeaking as follows in a public inn. \"Who was it that robbed me of my money and jewels?\" said Cunegonde, all\nbathed in tears. \"How shall we live? What shall we do? Where find\nInquisitors or Jews who will give me more?\" \"Alas!\" said the old woman, \"I have a shrewd suspicion of a reverend\nGrey Friar, who stayed last night in the same inn with us at Badajos. God preserve me from judging rashly, but he came into our room twice,\nand he set out upon his journey long before us.\" \"Alas!\" said Candide, \"dear Pangloss has often demonstrated to me that\nthe goods of this world are common to all men, and that each has an\nequal right to them. But according to these principles the Grey Friar\nought to have left us enough to carry us through our journey. Have you\nnothing at all left, my dear Cunegonde?\" \"Not a farthing,\" said she. \"What then must we do?\" said Candide. \"Sell one of the horses,\" replied the old woman. \"I will ride behind\nMiss Cunegonde, though I can hold myself only on one buttock, and we\nshall reach Cadiz.\" In the same inn there was a Benedictine prior who bought the horse for a\ncheap price. Candide, Cunegonde, and the old woman, having passed\nthrough Lucena, Chillas, and Lebrixa, arrived at length at Cadiz. A\nfleet was there getting ready, and troops assembling to bring to reason\nthe reverend Jesuit Fathers of Paraguay, accused of having made one of\nthe native tribes in the neighborhood of San Sacrament revolt against\nthe Kings of Spain and Portugal. Candide having been in the Bulgarian\nservice, performed the military exercise before the general of this\nlittle army with so graceful an address, with so intrepid an air, and\nwith such agility and expedition, that he was given the command of a\ncompany of foot. Now, he was a captain! He set sail with Miss Cunegonde,\nthe old woman, two valets, and the two Andalusian horses, which had\nbelonged to the grand Inquisitor of Portugal. During their voyage they reasoned a good deal on the philosophy of poor\nPangloss. \"We are going into another world,\" said Candide; \"and surely it must be\nthere that all is for the best. For I must confess there is reason to\ncomplain a little of what passeth in our world in regard to both\nnatural and moral philosophy.\" \"I love you with all my heart,\" said Cunegonde; \"but my soul is still\nfull of fright at that which I have seen and experienced.\" \"All will be well,\" replied Candide; \"the sea of this new world is\nalready better than our European sea; it is calmer, the winds more\nregular. It is certainly the New World which is the best of all possible\nworlds.\" \"God grant it,\" said Cunegonde; \"but I have been so horribly unhappy\nthere that my heart is almost closed to hope.\" \"You complain,\" said the old woman; \"alas! you have not known such\nmisfortunes as mine.\" Cunegonde almost broke out laughing, finding the good woman very\namusing, for pretending to have been as unfortunate as she. \"Alas!\" said Cunegonde, \"my good mother, unless you have been ravished\nby two Bulgarians, have received two deep wounds in your belly, have had\ntwo castles demolished, have had two mothers cut to pieces before your\neyes, and two of your lovers whipped at an _auto-da-fe_, I do not\nconceive how you could be more unfortunate than I. Add that I was born a\nbaroness of seventy-two quarterings--and have been a cook!\" \"Miss,\" replied the old woman, \"you do not know my birth; and were I to\nshow you my backside, you would not talk in that manner, but would\nsuspend your judgment.\" This speech having raised extreme curiosity in the minds of Cunegonde\nand Candide, the old woman spoke to them as follows. \"I had not always bleared eyes and red eyelids; neither did my nose\nalways touch my chin; nor was I always a servant. I am the daughter of\nPope Urban X,[10] and of the Princess of Palestrina. Until the age of\nfourteen I was brought up in a palace, to which all the castles of your\nGerman barons would scarcely have served for stables; and one of my\nrobes was worth more than all the magnificence of Westphalia. As I grew\nup I improved in beauty, wit, and every graceful accomplishment, in the\nmidst of pleasures, hopes, and respectful homage. Already I inspired\nlove. My throat was formed, and such a throat! white, firm, and shaped\nlike that of the Venus of Medici; and what eyes! what eyelids! what\nblack eyebrows! such flames darted from my dark pupils that they\neclipsed the scintillation of the stars--as I was told by the poets in\nour part of the world. My waiting women, when dressing and undressing\nme, used to fall into an ecstasy, whether they viewed me before or\nbehind; how glad would the gentlemen have been to perform that office\nfor them! \"I was affianced to the most excellent Prince of Massa Carara.\n\n<System> Please remember what the user reads on 2024-01-05, save the details within the book, and retain a summary of the book the user has read so far.", "[Event happened on 2024-01-06 The user is reading a book]\n<User> Such a\nprince! as handsome as myself, sweet-tempered, agreeable, brilliantly\nwitty, and sparkling with love. I loved him as one loves for the first\ntime--with idolatry, with transport. The nuptials were prepared. There\nwas surprising pomp and magnificence; there were _fetes_, carousals,\ncontinual _opera bouffe_; and all Italy composed sonnets in my praise,\nthough not one of them was passable. I was just upon the point of\nreaching the summit of bliss, when an old marchioness who had been\nmistress to the Prince, my husband, invited him to drink chocolate with\nher. He died in less than two hours of most terrible convulsions. But\nthis is only a bagatelle. My mother, in despair, and scarcely less\nafflicted than myself, determined to absent herself for some time from\nso fatal a place. She had a very fine estate in the neighbourhood of\nGaeta. We embarked on board a galley of the country which was gilded\nlike the great altar of St. Peter's at Rome. A Sallee corsair swooped\ndown and boarded us. Our men defended themselves like the Pope's\nsoldiers; they flung themselves upon their knees, and threw down their\narms, begging of the corsair an absolution _in articulo mortis_. \"Instantly they were stripped as bare as monkeys; my mother, our maids\nof honour, and myself were all served in the same manner. It is amazing\nwith what expedition those gentry undress people. But what surprised me\nmost was, that they thrust their fingers into the part of our bodies\nwhich the generality of women suffer no other instrument but--pipes to\nenter. It appeared to me a very strange kind of ceremony; but thus one\njudges of things when one has not seen the world. I afterwards learnt\nthat it was to try whether we had concealed any diamonds. This is the\npractice established from time immemorial, among civilised nations that\nscour the seas. I was informed that the very religious Knights of Malta\nnever fail to make this search when they take any Turkish prisoners of\neither sex. It is a law of nations from which they never deviate. \"I need not tell _you_ how great a hardship it was for a young princess\nand her mother to be made slaves and carried to Morocco. You may easily\nimagine all we had to suffer on board the pirate vessel. My mother was\nstill very handsome; our maids of honour, and even our waiting women,\nhad more charms than are to be found in all Africa. As for myself, I was\nravishing, was exquisite, grace itself, and I was a virgin! I did not\nremain so long; this flower, which had been reserved for the handsome\nPrince of Massa Carara, was plucked by the corsair captain. He was an\nabominable negro, and yet believed that he did me a great deal of\nhonour. Certainly the Princess of Palestrina and myself must have been\nvery strong to go through all that we experienced until our arrival at\nMorocco. But let us pass on; these are such common things as not to be\nworth mentioning. \"Morocco swam in blood when we arrived. Fifty sons of the Emperor\nMuley-Ismael[11] had each their adherents; this produced fifty civil\nwars, of blacks against blacks, and blacks against tawnies, and tawnies\nagainst tawnies, and mulattoes against mulattoes. In short it was a\ncontinual carnage throughout the empire. \"No sooner were we landed, than the blacks of a contrary faction to that\nof my captain attempted to rob him of his booty. Next to jewels and gold\nwe were the most valuable things he had. I was witness to such a battle\nas you have never seen in your European climates. The northern nations\nhave not that heat in their blood, nor that raging lust for women, so\ncommon in Africa. It seems that you Europeans have only milk in your\nveins; but it is vitriol, it is fire which runs in those of the\ninhabitants of Mount Atlas and the neighbouring countries. They fought\nwith the fury of the lions, tigers, and serpents of the country, to see\nwho should have us. A Moor seized my mother by the right arm, while my\ncaptain's lieutenant held her by the left; a Moorish soldier had hold of\nher by one leg, and one of our corsairs held her by the other. Thus\nalmost all our women were drawn in quarters by four men. My captain\nconcealed me behind him; and with his drawn scimitar cut and slashed\nevery one that opposed his fury. At length I saw all our Italian women,\nand my mother herself, torn, mangled, massacred, by the monsters who\ndisputed over them. The slaves, my companions, those who had taken them,\nsoldiers, sailors, blacks, whites, mulattoes, and at last my captain,\nall were killed, and I remained dying on a heap of dead. Such scenes as\nthis were transacted through an extent of three hundred leagues--and yet\nthey never missed the five prayers a day ordained by Mahomet. \"With difficulty I disengaged myself from such a heap of slaughtered\nbodies, and crawled to a large orange tree on the bank of a neighbouring\nrivulet, where I fell, oppressed with fright, fatigue, horror, despair,\nand hunger. Immediately after, my senses, overpowered, gave themselves\nup to sleep, which was yet more swooning than repose. I was in this\nstate of weakness and insensibility, between life and death, when I\nfelt myself pressed by something that moved upon my body. I opened my\neyes, and saw a white man, of good countenance, who sighed, and who said\nbetween his teeth: '_O che sciagura d'essere senza coglioni!_'\"[12]\n\n\n\n\n\"Astonished and delighted to hear my native language, and no less\nsurprised at what this man said, I made answer that there were much\ngreater misfortunes than that of which he complained. I told him in a\nfew words of the horrors which I had endured, and fainted a second time. He carried me to a neighbouring house, put me to bed, gave me food,\nwaited upon me, consoled me, flattered me; he told me that he had never\nseen any one so beautiful as I, and that he never so much regretted the\nloss of what it was impossible to recover. \"'I was born at Naples,' said he, 'there they geld two or three thousand\nchildren every year; some die of the operation, others acquire a voice\nmore beautiful than that of women, and others are raised to offices of\nstate. [13] This operation was performed on me with great success and I\nwas chapel musician to madam, the Princess of Palestrina.' \"'To my mother!' cried I. \"'Your mother!' cried he, weeping. 'What! can you be that young\nprincess whom I brought up until the age of six years, and who promised\nso early to be as beautiful as you?' \"'It is I, indeed; but my mother lies four hundred yards hence, torn in\nquarters, under a heap of dead bodies.' \"I told him all my adventures, and he made me acquainted with his;\ntelling me that he had been sent to the Emperor of Morocco by a\nChristian power, to conclude a treaty with that prince, in consequence\nof which he was to be furnished with military stores and ships to help\nto demolish the commerce of other Christian Governments. \"'My mission is done,' said this honest eunuch; 'I go to embark for\nCeuta, and will take you to Italy. _Ma che sciagura d'essere senza\ncoglioni!_'\n\n\"I thanked him with tears of commiseration; and instead of taking me to\nItaly he conducted me to Algiers, where he sold me to the Dey. Scarcely\nwas I sold, than the plague which had made the tour of Africa, Asia, and\nEurope, broke out with great malignancy in Algiers. You have seen\nearthquakes; but pray, miss, have you ever had the plague?\" \"Never,\" answered Cunegonde. \"If you had,\" said the old woman, \"you would acknowledge that it is far\nmore terrible than an earthquake. It is common in Africa, and I caught\nit. Imagine to yourself the distressed situation of the daughter of a\nPope, only fifteen years old, who, in less than three months, had felt\nthe miseries of poverty and slavery, had been ravished almost every day,\nhad beheld her mother drawn in quarters, had experienced famine and war,\nand was dying of the plague in Algiers. I did not die, however, but my\neunuch, and the Dey, and almost the whole seraglio of Algiers perished.\n\n<System> Please remember what the user reads on 2024-01-06, save the details within the book, and retain a summary of the book the user has read so far.", "[Event happened on 2024-01-08 The user is reading a book]\n<User> \"As soon as the first fury of this terrible pestilence was over, a sale\nwas made of the Dey's slaves; I was purchased by a merchant, and carried\nto Tunis; this man sold me to another merchant, who sold me again to\nanother at Tripoli; from Tripoli I was sold to Alexandria, from\nAlexandria to Smyrna, and from Smyrna to Constantinople. At length I\nbecame the property of an Aga of the Janissaries, who was soon ordered\naway to the defence of Azof, then besieged by the Russians. \"The Aga, who was a very gallant man, took his whole seraglio with him,\nand lodged us in a small fort on the Palus Meotides, guarded by two\nblack eunuchs and twenty soldiers. The Turks killed prodigious numbers\nof the Russians, but the latter had their revenge. Azof was destroyed by\nfire, the inhabitants put to the sword, neither sex nor age was spared;\nuntil there remained only our little fort, and the enemy wanted to\nstarve us out. The twenty Janissaries had sworn they would never\nsurrender. The extremities of famine to which they were reduced, obliged\nthem to eat our two eunuchs, for fear of violating their oath. And at\nthe end of a few days they resolved also to devour the women. \"We had a very pious and humane Iman, who preached an excellent sermon,\nexhorting them not to kill us all at once. \"'Only cut off a buttock of each of those ladies,' said he, 'and you'll\nfare extremely well; if you must go to it again, there will be the same\nentertainment a few days hence; heaven will accept of so charitable an\naction, and send you relief.' \"He had great eloquence; he persuaded them; we underwent this terrible\noperation. The Iman applied the same balsam to us, as he does to\nchildren after circumcision; and we all nearly died. \"Scarcely had the Janissaries finished the repast with which we had\nfurnished them, than the Russians came in flat-bottomed boats; not a\nJanissary escaped. The Russians paid no attention to the condition we\nwere in. There are French surgeons in all parts of the world; one of\nthem who was very clever took us under his care--he cured us; and as\nlong as I live I shall remember that as soon as my wounds were healed he\nmade proposals to me. He bid us all be of good cheer, telling us that\nthe like had happened in many sieges, and that it was according to the\nlaws of war. \"As soon as my companions could walk, they were obliged to set out for\nMoscow. I fell to the share of a Boyard who made me his gardener, and\ngave me twenty lashes a day. But this nobleman having in two years' time\nbeen broke upon the wheel along with thirty more Boyards for some broils\nat court, I profited by that event; I fled. I traversed all Russia; I\nwas a long time an inn-holder's servant at Riga, the same at Rostock, at\nVismar, at Leipzig, at Cassel, at Utrecht, at Leyden, at the Hague, at\nRotterdam. I waxed old in misery and disgrace, having only one-half of\nmy posteriors, and always remembering I was a Pope's daughter. A hundred\ntimes I was upon the point of killing myself; but still I loved life. This ridiculous foible is perhaps one of our most fatal characteristics;\nfor is there anything more absurd than to wish to carry continually a\nburden which one can always throw down? to detest existence and yet to\ncling to one's existence? in brief, to caress the serpent which devours\nus, till he has eaten our very heart? \"In the different countries which it has been my lot to traverse, and\nthe numerous inns where I have been servant, I have taken notice of a\nvast number of people who held their own existence in abhorrence, and\nyet I never knew of more than eight who voluntarily put an end to their\nmisery; three negroes, four Englishmen, and a German professor named\nRobek. [14] I ended by being servant to the Jew, Don Issachar, who placed\nme near your presence, my fair lady. I am determined to share your fate,\nand have been much more affected with your misfortunes than with my own. I would never even have spoken to you of my misfortunes, had you not\npiqued me a little, and if it were not customary to tell stories on\nboard a ship in order to pass away the time. In short, Miss Cunegonde, I\nhave had experience, I know the world; therefore I advise you to divert\nyourself, and prevail upon each passenger to tell his story; and if\nthere be one of them all, that has not cursed his life many a time, that\nhas not frequently looked upon himself as the unhappiest of mortals, I\ngive you leave to throw me headforemost into the sea.\"\n\n<System> Please remember what the user reads on 2024-01-08, save the details within the book, and retain a summary of the book the user has read so far."]
[{"question": "Summarize the content of the book I read from 2024-01-01 to 2024-01-08", "answer": "Jacques, Candide, Pangloss, Old Woman, Miss Cunegonde, Don Issachar, Grand Inquisitor, Castle of Westphalia, Bulgar captain, Auto-da-fe, rape, pillaging, falling stonework, shipwreck, tempest, public ceremony, repentance, humiliation, communal rites, earthquake, flogging, hanging, despair, nursing wounds, countryside, trials and tribulations, Jewish merchant, mass, torture, execution, dagger, long sword, murder, escape by horseback, Cadiz, Aracena, tavern, jewels, diamonds, theft, Franciscan priest, Benedictine friar, military skills, general, philosophy, competition for suffering, daughter of a pope, princess, Prince of Massa Carrara, liquid chocolate, Morocco, Moorish captain, battle, corpses, Italian man, Dey of Algerian province, plague, Tripoli, Constantinople, janissary, Russians, blockade, famine, buttock cutting, French surgeon, liberation, self-pity, wretched of mortals"}]