At the names of the Baron and of Pangloss, the two galley-slaves uttered a loud cry, held fast by the seat, and let drop their oars. The captain ran up to them and redoubled his blows with the bull’s pizzle.
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Interesting how no one dies and ends up being slaves. Really interesting tske on the previous absurdity of deaths. Proves thst death is not that sad for voltaire, living is even sadder
