After our coy hero is kicked out of his castle after being unfairly accused of sexual intentions towards his idol, Lady Cunegonde, Candide starts to roam the Provinces of Holland. He has lost his favorite philosopher as well (Dr. Pangloss), but later finds him dressed as a beggar (later without an eye and an ear, because of Paquette, and the Bulgarians who have ravished the whole Baron von Thunder-ten-Trockh's Province and Castle). Our Candide is on his path to Destiny, and on the way he finds things, and meets people, and learns things that make his path all the more prodigal.
This scene is after he has been thrown out of the Military Academy, walking through a street in Holland, lonely.

" Chapter IV - Pangloss on the Pox

Next day, whilst out for a walk, Candide met a beggar covered with sores. The man's eyes were sunk in his head, the end of his nose eaten away, his mouth awry, his teeth black. He spoke in a husky whisper, coughed violently, and seemed to spit out a tooth at every spasm.
Candide felt even more pity than revulsion. He gave the horrible mendicant the two florins he had received from the Anabaptist; and then recoiled in dismay, as the apparition, gazing at him, burst into tears and fell on his neck.
'Alas,' said the poor creature, 'don't you know your poor Pangloss?'
'What, can it be you, my dear master- and in so fearful a plight? What disaster has befallen you? Why have you left the finest of castles? What is become of Mistress Cunegonde, that pearl amongst young ladies, that masterpiece of nature?'
'I am utterly spent', said Pangloss. Candide led him to the Anabaptist's stable, where he brought him something to ear. When Pangloss was feeling better, Candide resumed his questions: 'And now, pray, what of Cunegonde?'
'She is dead.'
Candide fainted. His friend rubbed his forehead with some stale vinegar which happened to be in the stable, and he reopened his eyes. 'Cunegonde dead! Ah, where is the best of Worlds now? But of what illness did she die? Was it for grief upon seeing her father kick me out of the castle?'
'Bulgarian soldiers ravished her, and afterwards ripped open her belly. Her father sought to defend her, and they broke his skull. The Baroness was cut in pieces. My poor pupil was treated in exactly the same way as his sister. As for the castle, not one stone stands upon another. Not a barn remains, not a sheep, not a duck, not a tree.
'But we have had our revenge; for the Abarians have done the same in a neighbouring barony, which belonged to a Bulgarian lord.'
Candide fainted again. When he once more came to his senses, he inquired what causes and effects, what "sufficing reason" had reduced Pangloss to his present piteous condition.
'Alas,' said Pangloss, 'it was love; love, the comfort of the human race, preserver of the universe, the soul of all feeling creatures; the tender passion of love.'
'Ah me,' said Candide, 'I too have known this love, sovereign of hearts, soul of our souls. All it brought me one kiss, and a score of kicks on the backside. But how could so fair a cause produce in yo so foul an effect?'
'Well, my dear Candide, you will remember Paquette, that pretty wench who waited on our august Baroness. In her arms I tasted those pleasures of paradise that produced the hellish torments with which you see me devoured. She suffered from an infection, and is perhaps now dead of it. She had it as a gift of a learned Franciscan friar, who derived it from the very fountain-head, since he had it of an old countess, who had it of a captain of horse, who had it of a marchioness, who had it of a page, who had it of a Jesuit, who, while yet a novice, had it in a direct line from one of the fellow adventurers of the fellow-adventurers of Christopher Columbus.
'For my part, I will give it to nobody, for I am dying.'
'Ah, Pangloss, what a sorry genealogy is that which you have described! Surely the devil was the root of it.'
'Not at all', replied the great man. 'It was a thing unavoidable, a necessary ingredient in the best of worlds; for if Columbus had not caught in the American isle this disease which poisons the spring of generation, and often even stops it, and is thus in itself evidently contrary to the great aim of nature, we should have neither chocolate nor cochineal.
'It is also to be observed that hitherto this malady is, like religious controversy, peculiar to our continent. The Turks, Indians, Persians, Chinese, Siamese and Japanese are not yet acquainted with it. There is, however, no doubt a sufficing reason why they, in their turn, should make its acquaintance within a few centuries.
'In the meantime, it is making amazing progress amongst us, and especially amongst those great and glorious armies that determine the fate of nations. One may safely affirm that, when two armies of 30.000 mean each meet in battle, about 20.000 on either side have the pox.'
'That is all very interesting,' said Candide; 'but we must have you cured.'
'But how? I have not a penny, my friend, and nowhere on the surface of the globe can a man be bled or clystered without paying, or being paid for by another.'
Candide thereupon threw himself upon the mercy of the cheritable Anabaptist James, and painted to him so striking a picture of his friend's condition, that the good man at once took Dr. Pangloss into his house and paid for treatment for him. The result was that Pangloss lost only one eye and one ear. Since he wrote a good hand and was an excellent arithmetician, James made him his bookkeeper.
Two months later, James had to go on business to Lisbon, and took the two philosophers with him.
On the voyage, Pangloss explained to James the perfection of the scheme of things. James disagreed: 'Men must have deviated somewhat from their original innocence,' he said. 'They were not born wolves, but they are (sic.) become wolves. God did not give them twenty-four pounders not bayonets, but they have made these things for their own destruction. I might also speak of bankruptcies, and the law which seizes upon the property of bankrupts solely in order to keep it from the creditors.'
'All that had to be', replied the one-eyed doctor. 'rivate ills make up the general good. It therefore follows that, the more numerous the private ills, the greater the general good. '
As he spoke, the sky was darkening and a high wind was rising. The ship, which was now within sight of Lisbon harbour, was struck by a terrible storm.

Chapter V - The Death of the Anabaptist..."



This was Chapter IV of Candide, by the witty Voltaire. In this book he challenges the idea current in his day that 'all is for the best in the best of all possible worlds'.
Candide is definitely one of the funniest characters I have ever seen. Know that all that happens in this world, is for the definitive best. And is happening in the best of Worlds. Much like karma, if you bear a noble heart, and a clean mind, getting kicked out of your home castle, having the love of your life ravished and cut by Bulgarians, having your teacher hanged and burned, having your brother-in-law's blood on your hands, having your servant enslaved for 5 years, and all the world's riches robbed from you, may mean that it was in the end all for the best. But work now, noble peasant, this is not the time for speaking, nor is it the time for philosophy.