Esau and Jacob by Machado de Assis Joaquim Maria; Borges Dain; Lowe Elizabeth

Author:Machado de Assis, Joaquim Maria; Borges, Dain; Lowe, Elizabeth
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Oxford University Press USA - OSO
Published: 2000-12-09T16:00:00+00:00

LX

The Morning of the 15th

When things like this occurred, it was Aires’s custom to leave the house early for a stroll. He did not always get it right. This time he went to the Passeio Público. He arrived at seven thirty in the morning, walked through the entrance up to the terrace, and looked out at the sea. The ocean was choppy. Aires began to walk back and forth along the terrace, listening to the waves and looking over the rail from time to time to see them crash against the seawall and retreat. He liked it when the sea was like this. He thought of the waves as having a strong soul that moved them to intimidate the earth. The water, curling over itself, gave him a sensation, more than of life, of a person, who did not lack nerves and muscles and who possessed a voice with which to shout out his anger.

Finally he tired and retraced his steps, in the direction of the lake, through the tree-lined streets, and he wandered at random, reliving men and things, until he sat on a bench. He noticed that the few people there were not seated, as usual, casually looking around, reading newspapers, or yawning from a sleepless night. People were standing around, talking among themselves, and those who came by caught pieces of the conversation without knowing who the speakers were. That’s how it seemed to him, at least. He heard a few loose words, Deodoro, battalions, field, Ministry, etc. Some, spoken in a loud voice, by chance reached his ears, as if trying to arouse his curiosity, as if trying to attract one more listener to the news. I do not swear it was thus, because it was long ago and the people were strangers. Aires himself, if he suspected such a thing, did not tell anyone. Nor did he try to capture the rest. On the contrary, remembering something private, he wrote a note to himself in pencil in his notebook. That was enough to make the curious disperse, not without some epithet of praise, some for the government and others for the army: he might be a friend of one or the other.

When Aires left the park he suspected something and went on to the Largo da Carioca. There was little conversation, hushed clusters of pedestrians with frightened faces, figures rushing to open way in the street, but no clear or complete news. On the Rua do Ouvidor, he discovered that the military had led a coup, heard descriptions of the assault and of the protagonists, and contradictory accounts. He returned to the Largo da Carioca, where three carriages competed for his business. He hailed one that was closest and ordered the driver to take him to Catete. He asked nothing of the driver. The driver, however, filled him in on everything and all the rest. He spoke of a revolution, of two dead ministers, one a fugitive, the rest prisoners. The emperor, apprehended in Petrópolis, was returning to the city.

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