Dom Casmurro

by Machado de Assis

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V - The Aggregate

He did not always go at that slow and steady pace. He also decomposed into action, was very quick and quick in the movements, as natural as this way. Otherwise, he would laugh, if necessary, with a big, unwilling but communicative laugh, so much so that his cheeks, his teeth, his eyes, his whole face, the whole person, the whole world seemed to laugh at him. In serious bids, very serious.

He had been with us for many years; my father was still in the old Itaguahy farm, and I was just born. One day he appeared there, selling himself for a homeopathic doctor; carried a Manual and an apothecary. There was a flurry of fevers; Jose Dias cured the factor and a slave, and did not want to receive any remuneration. Then my father offered him to live there, with a small tidy. Jose Dias refused, saying that it was fair to bring health to the poor man's house.

"Who keeps you from going elsewhere?" Go where you want, but stay with us.

"I'll be back in three months."

He returned dalli to two weeks, he accepted house and food without other stipend, except what they wanted to give for parties. When my father was elected deputy and came to Rio de Janeiro with his family, he also came and had his room in the back of the chacara. One day, fevers reigning again in Itaguahy, my father told him to go and see our slavery. José Dias remained silent, sighed and ended up confessing that he was not a doctor. He had taken this title to help the propaganda of the new school, and he did not do it without studying much and much; but his conscience did not allow him to accept more sick people.

"But you healed the other times."

-I think so; the most correct, however, is to say that they were the remedies indicated in the books. They, yes, they, below God. I was a charlatan ... Do not deny it; the reasons for my procedure could be and were worthy; homeopathy is truth, and to lie to the truth I have lied; but it is time to restore everything.

He was not fired, as he asked; my father could no longer hold him. He had the gift of making himself necessary and necessary; was due to lack of it, as a family person. When my father died, the pain that struck him was enormous, they told me, I do not remember. My mother was very grateful to him, and would not let him leave the room of the chacara; On the seventh day, after Mass, he went to say goodbye to her.

Stay, José Dias.

"I obey you, my lady.

He had a small legacy in the testament, an apolice and four words of praise. He copied the words, fitted them in, and hung them in the bedroom over the bed. "This is the best apolice," he said. In time, he acquired some authority in the family, a certain audience, at least; he did not abuse, and he knew how to give his opinion. In the end, he was a friend, I will not say optimum, but not everything is optimal in this world. And do not suppose him a subaltern soul; the barbs he made came before the calculation of the indole. His clothes were very long; unlike the people who were quickly laying the new dress on, he had the old man brushed and smooth, cirzido, buttoned, of modest and poor elegance. It was read, as if it were an accident, enough to amuse the evening and the dessert, or explain some phenomena, to talk about the effects of heat and cold, the poles and Robespierre. He had often told of a trip he had made to Europe, and confessed that if it were not we, he would have returned there; had friends in Lisbon, but our family, he said, under God, was everything.

"Down or up?" asked Uncle Cosme one day.

"Down," repeated Jose Dias, full of veneration.

And my mother, who was religious, liked to see that he put God in the right place, and smiled approvingly. José Dias nodded his head. My mother gave him a few coppers from time to time. Uncle Cosme, who was a lawyer, trusted him to copy the papers.


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