Dom Casmurro

by Machado de Assis


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LIII - On My Way


I went to the seminary. Spare me the other farewells. My mother clutched my chest. Prima Justina sighed. Maybe I cried badly or nothing. There are people whose tears do not come soon or ever; they are said to suffer more than others. Prima Justina naturally disguised her inner pains, correcting my mother's carelessness, making recommendations to me, giving orders. Uncle Cosimo, when I kissed him goodbye, said to me with a laugh:

"Come on, boy, come back to me, Papa!"

José Dias, composed and serious, did not say anything at first; we had spoken in the evening, in the room of the room, where I went to see if it was still possible to avoid the seminary. It was no longer, but it gave me hope and especially excited me. Before a year we would be on board. As I found it very brief, he explained.

"They say it's not a good time to cross the Atlantic, I'll ask; if it is not, we will be in March or April.

"I can study medicine right here.

Jose Dias ran his fingers through his suspenders with a gesture of impatience, pressed his lips together, until he formally rejected the proposal.

"I would not hesitate to approve the idea," he said, "if they did not teach Allopatha rot only in the medical school." Allopathia is the error of centuries, and it is going to die; It's murder, it's the lie, it's the illusion. If you are told that you can take part of the science common to all systems in the medical school, it is true; allopathia is a mistake in therapeutics. Physiology, anatomy, pathology, are neither allopathic nor homeopathic, but it is better to apprehend it all at once, by books and by language of men who practice truth ...

That was how he had spoken in the evening and in the bedroom. Now he said nothing, or uttered some aphorism about religion and family; I remember this: "Divide him with God, he is still possessed." When my mother gave me the last kiss: "Frame dearly!" he sighed. It was a beautiful morning. The boys whispered; the slaves took the blessing: "Blessing, no Bentinho! do not forget your Joanna! Your Miquelina prays for you! "In the street Jose Dias insisted on the hopes:

-Add a year; By then everything will be arranged.

 

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