Dom Casmurro

by Machado de Assis

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For all this did not kill me the son of a son, a sad boy who was yellow and thin, but a son, a son of my own. When we went to Andarahy and saw the daughter of Escobar and Sancha, familiarly called the Capitulina, in spite of my wife's dissimilarity, since they gave the same name to the sink, we were filled with envy. The little one was graceful and plump, talkative and curious. The parents, like the other parents, told of the girl's mischief and wit, and when we came back to Gloria in the evening, we came sighing our envy, and begging the sky to kill them.

... The envy died, the hopes were born, and soon the fruit of the world came. It was not scanty or ugly, as I asked, but a sturdy, handsome fellow.

My joy when he was born, I do not know how to say it; I have never had it, nor do I believe that there may be an identical one, or that it may be closely or closely related to it. It was vertigo and madness. He did not sing on the street because of natural shame, or at home, in order not to afflict convalescent Capitú. It also did not fall, because there is a god for the new paes. He lived with the spirit in the boy; at home, with his eyes, watching him, looking at him, asking him where he came from, and why I was so entirely in him, and several other nonsense without words, but thought or delirious at every moment. Maybe I lost some causes in the car by careless.

Capitú was no less tender to him and to me. We clasped each other, and when we did not look at our son, we talked about ourselves, our past and our future. The hours of greatest charm and mystery were those of breastfeeding. When I saw my son sucking his mother's milk, and all that union of nature to the nourishment and life of a being that was nothing, but that our destiny affirmed that it would be, and our constancy and our love made it I could not say or say; positively does not remember me, and I fear that what I said would make me dark.

Escusai minucias. So it is not necessary to tell the dedication of my mother and Sancha, who also went to spend with Capitú the first days and nights. Quiz reject Sandia's gift; he replied that I had nothing to do with it; also Capitú, as an unmarried woman, had gone to the street of the Invalids.

"Do not you remember that you went there?"

"Remind me; more Escobar ...

"I will come to dinner with you, and at night I will go to Andarahy; eight days, and it's all past. Well you can see that you're a first-time dad.

-You too; where is the second

We used these graces as a family. Today, when I have returned to my misery, I do not know if there is such a language yet, but there must be. Escobar did what he said; he dined with us, and went away at night. About afternoon we went down to the beach or went to the Promenade, doing his calculations, I did my dreams. I saw my son doctor, lawyer, dealer, met him in several universities and banks, and even accepted the hypothese of being a poet. The possibility of a politician was consulted, and I believed that I was a speaker, and a great speaker.

"It could be, Escobar's redoubt; nobody would say what came to be Desmosthenes.

Escobar accompanied my creations many times; also questioned the future. He even talked about the hypothese of marrying the child to his daughter. Friendship exists; was all in the hands with which I pressed Escobar's, upon hearing this, and in the utter absence of words with which I assigned the covenant; these came afterwards, run over, tuned by the heart, which struck with great force. Accepted the memory, and proposes that we send them to this end, for the same and common education, for the united and correct childhood.

It was my idea that Escobar was the boy's godfather; the godmother should be and would be my mother. But the first part was changed by the intervention of Uncle Cosme, who, upon seeing his birth, told him among other affections

"Go on, bless your godfather, you rascal."

And, turning to me:

"I do not give up the favor; and the baptized must soon be, before my sickness takes me from time to time.

I discreetly told the anecdote to Escobar, so that he would understand and excuse me; she laughed and did not hurt herself. He did more, hoping that the baptiste's luncheon was in the chacara delle, and he went. I still tried to space the ceremony to see if Uncle Cosimo succumbed first to the disease, but it seems that this was more to annoy than to kill. There was no remedy other than to take the child to the sink, where he was given the name of Ezekiel; it was Escobar's, and I wanted to fill the lack of compadrio in this way.


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