One evening as I was coming from town to Engenho Novo...
on the Central train, I met a young man from the neighborhood...
whom I know by sight and tip my hat to.
He greeted me and sat down, spoke of the moon and ministers...
and ended up reciting poetry to me.
The journey was short and the verses... may not have been entirely bad.
But it so happened that... being weary...
I closed my eyes three or four times.
Go on.
I've finished.
They're very nice.
Dom Casmurro!
Life can be an opera... or a sea voyage.
Or a battle.
OPERA
The following day, the young poet insulted me with ugly names...
and ended up nicknaming me Dom Casmurro.
My dear Dom Casmurro, you must come to the theater with us tomorrow.
Come and stay here in town.
You can have my theater box, my tea, my bed...
but no girls.
The neighbors, who don't like my reclusive, silent habits...
gave the nickname wings and it caught on.
It didn't bother me.
I told my friends, they were amused so that is what they now call me.
Don't consult your dictionaries.
Casmurro here is not meant in the sense given,
All because of a nap!
Nor could I find a better title for my narrative.
If I come across no other by the time
I finish the book that's what it shall be.
he can say it's his work.
Some books contain only this much of their authors...
others, less still.
THE BOOK
Before writing my book, let me put down my reasons for
taking pen to hand.
I live alone, with a servant.
The house where I live is my own.
I built it reproducing the house where I grew up,
on what was Matacavalos Street,
Come ye again, restless shadows.
Cousin Glória!
Of course, my aim was to tie the two ends of my life...
and in old age restore my youth.
Well, sir, I was unable to recover what was...
nor who I was.
But in all this, if the face is the same, the physiognomy is different.
If only I truly missed the others, oh well...
a man consoles himself more or less with the people he loses.
But myself are missing...
and this oversight is everything.
My few remaining friends I acquired recently.
The rest went to study geology
in consecrated ground.
However, a different life does not mean a worse life, but something else.
I eat well and don't sleep badly.
In some ways my old life now seems lacking...
in many delights...
But since everything grows tiresome...
this monotony has also finally exhausted me.
But, this monotony is so tiresome. It let me worn out too.
I wanted something different and thought of writing a book...
about jurisprudence, or philosophy, or politics.
Then I thought about writing a "History of the Suburbs"...
but that demanded documents and dates and I hadn't the energy.
Yes, Nero, Augustus, Masinissa and you, great Caesar...
I thank you for your counsel.
I shall put down on paper any reminiscences...
which spring to mind.
Thus shall I once again live my life.
We begin with a great November afternoon...
one which I have never forgotten.
There were many others, better and worse...
but that one...
has never died out in my spirit.
Reading this you will understand.
THE ACCUSATION
Dona Glória, will you persist in this idea...
of sending little Bento to the seminary?
It's high time. And now there may be a difficulty.
What difficulty?
The difficulty is right there next door.
Those Páduas.
The Páduas?
José Dias had been our houseguest for many years.
THE HOUSEGUEST
My parents were still at the ranch in Itaguaí,
just after I was born.
One day he came introducing himself as a homeopathic doctor.
And cured a foreman and a slave...
without accepting anything in return.
My father suggested he stay on, with a small wage.
José Dias refused.
He returned a fortnight later.
When my father became a congressman and moved to Rio de Janeiro
with the family, he came with us.
Uncle Cosme, who was a lawyer, entrusted him with copying legal papers.
José Dias...
The Páduas?
I've been meaning to tell you for some time but I hadn't the courage.
It doesn't seem right that little Bento loiters about so much
with Tartaruga's daughter.
That's the difficulty.
If they fall in love, you'll have a terrible fight
separating them.
I doubt it. Loitering about?
Just in a manner of speaking.
Being secretive, always together. Bento hardly ever goes anywhere else.
The girl's a wild one. The father pretends he doesn't notice.
He'd like things to progress so that...
Please!
l understand your gesture.
You don't believe in such calculating minds.
You think everyone's soul is pure.
José Dias, I have watched the children playing...
and have never seen anything to make me suspicious.
Bento is hardly fifteen.
Capitu was fourteen last week, they're both little children.
And anyway, remember they've been brought up together...
since the great flood ten years ago...
in which the Pádua family lost so much.
That is how we know them.
Brother Cosme, what do you think?
UNCLE COSME
Uncle Cosme had lived with my mother since her widowhood.
He was already a widower, as was cousin Justina.
Ours was the house of the three widows.
He was a lawyer. Criminal cases.
They say as a lad he was a ladies' man,
as well as highly eligible.
But the years sapped his political and sexual ardor...
and his flab finished off the rest of his public and specific
ideas.
Now he simply carried out his work obligations,
with no love.
Brother Cosme, what do you think?
Where's the backgammon?
l think you're mistaken, José Dias.
l only hope you're right.
But be sure l wouldn't have spoken without examining things closely.
In any case...
In any case, it's high time.
I'll see he's sent to the seminary as soon as possible.
Oh, if you insist on him becoming a priest...
Bento will have to satisfy his mother's wishes..
Furthermore, the Brazilian Church is destined for great things.
Don't let's forget that a bishop presided over the Constitution...
and the Father Feijó governed the Empire.
And governed dreadfully, at that!
Forgive me, sir, I wasn't defending anyone,
just citing.
What I'm trying to say is the clergy still plays an important role in Brazil.
What you need is a return game. Go on, fetch the backgammon.
Regarding Bento, if he really must become a priest...
he shouldn't keep holding mass behind closed doors.
Listen here, sister Glória...
is it really necessary to make him a priest?
It's a vow. l must fulfill it.
l know it's a vow.
But that sort of vow... well, you know...
What do you think, cousin Justina?
Me?!
Yes! Oh, the truth is, we each know what's best for oneself.
But God knows for everyone.
What's wrong, Glória? Are you crying?
Come on, is this a matter for tears?
Cousin Glória!
If I'd known, l wouldn't have spoken.
l spoke out of veneration, esteem, affection...
to fulfill a bitter duty.
An extremely bitter duty!
José Dias loved superlatives.
It was a way of giving ideas a monumental air.
And in the absence of ideas he was at least able to prolong his sentences.
But to return to that afternoon in November...
which was when my life began.
Everything which came before was like a rehearsal.
This was where my opera would begin.
ON THE VERANDA
There, on the veranda, was the best part of the crisis.
The sensation of a new pleasure wrapping itself around me...
made me shudder and poured forth l know not which inner balm.
Capitu!
Will there be mass today?
Handsome boy! Flower.
Your hair is so lovely.
Yours is much lovelier.
You're crazy!
Did you dream about me last night?
No.
Well I dreamed we went up Corcovado in the air...
then we danced on the moon and some angels came and asked...
our names to give them to other angels who had just been born.
My dreams are lovelier than yours.
They were.
Your dreams are as lovely as you.
She blushed bright red.
So does that mean I loved Capitu
and Capitu loved me?
THE INSCRIPTION
Capitu!
Yes, mother!
Come here!
What is it, mother?
Stop picking holes in the wall, dear. Come here!
BENTO CAPITOLINA
What's the matter?
Me? Nothing.
Yes there is, something is wrong.
What's the matter?
Some news.
News? Of what?
l thought of telling her l was going to the seminary...
and look closely at her reaction.
Well?
You know.
If she was disappointed, it meant she really liked me.
If not, then she didn't.
Bento Capitolina...
We said nothing. The wall spoke for us.
l knew the rules of writing, without suspecting those of love.
l had orgies of Latin and was a virgin regarding women.
Are you playing the staring game?
Capitu!
I'm here, father!
Don't ruin the plaster on the wall.
Your portrait, father.
Playing the staring game, were you?
Yes, indeed, but Bento laughs so quickly, he can't help it.
When I came to the door he wasn't laughing.
He'd laughed other times. He can't help it.
Want to see?
It's because you're here, father.
Who'd have thought this little thing was 14.
She looks 17.
THE REPLACEMENT ADMINISTRATOR
Pádua was employed at a government office.
He didn't earn much, but life was cheap.
Also, the house where he lived was his property.
One day, the administrator at the office where Pádua worked...
had to go up north on business.
Pádua became the administrator's replacement...
with the respective salary.
This change in habits rather went to his head.
Not content with reforming his clothing and the kitchen...
he launched into making superfluous purchases, gave his wife jewelry,
was seen at the theater shiny shoes here we come!
He lived like that for 22 months imagining it an Eternal Substitution.
The office administrator has returned from the North.
I'll have to return the post, the wages...
I'll just be a simple government employee again!
Pádua! Pádua!
Oh my God! Pádua!
I'll not bear such a disgrace.
What will the neighbors say?
Our friends? The general public?
What general public, Pádua?
Come on, get up!
You must be a man, the head of a family...
you must emulate your wife, your daughter.
She looks 17.
Is your mother well?
Yes.
I haven't seen her for days.
I've been doing office work at home.
I have to write reports every night.
Have you seen my euphonia bird?
Come and see, Bento! Come and see, come on!
I sensed I couldn't speak clearly.
My sight was now baffling me.
BIBLE-BASHER GOD-LOVER CHURCH-ADDICT
This vow goes back to before I was born.
Since her first baby was stillborn, my mother picked a quarrel with God.
and promised that if I survived she'd make a priest of me.
Perhaps she expected a girl. Not even my father knew.
She was going to tell him when I started school, but was widowed before.
And she's so devout...
but I don't want to!
l don't want to go to a seminary!
l won't go, it's no use insisting.
l won't go! l swear I don't want to become a priest.
May l find no light at death's door if I go to the seminary!
Bible-basher! God-lover! Church-addict!
When her husband died she might have returned to Itaguaí.
She didn't want to,
preferring to stay close to the church where my father was buried.
She sold the little ranch
and was allowed to remain at the Matacavalos house.
In that year of grace of 1857...
Dona Maria da Glória Fernandes Santiago was 42 years old.
She was still pretty,
but insisted on hiding what remained of her youthfulness,
that l'II not go to the seminary for anything in the world.
You? You'll go.
No I won't.
Capitu liked my mother so much, and my mother liked her...
l couldn't understand such an outburst.
It is true that she also liked me... and more, naturally.
But the impropriety...
how to understand that she call her such ugly names?
She also attended mass, and three or four times my mother took her.
And she gave her a rosary and a gold cross.
So why would José Dias remind her of it?
For no reason. Just to make trouble.
He's a bad sort.
But let it be, Capitu, I'll get my own back.
When I'm head of the house he'll be out on the street...
you'll see, Capitu!
And I made other threats.
Youth and childhood aren't ridiculous...
in such moments, it is one of their privileges.
At 15, there is a certain delight in threatening a great deal...
and carrying out nothing.
Coconut candy! Coconut candy!
Coconut candy!
Weep, little girl, weep For you haven't a cent
Coconut candy! Coconut candy!
- Any candy today, miss? - No.
- It's delicious. - Go away.
I'll have some.
Weep, little girl, weep For you haven't a cent
Weep, little girl, weep
A PLAN
If I were rich, you'd run away, take a steamer to Europe.
We have to consider the people we can rely on.
-Uncle Cosme. -No. He's living it up.
He may not approve of your taking vows,
but he's not capable of doing anything against her.
Yes, but that would be too obvious. Something else.
José Dias!
- What of José Dias? - He could be a good ally.
But it was he who said...
No matter, now he'll say something else.
He really likes you.
Don't be so shy with him.
You shouldn't be scared.
Capitu insisted that I ask him politely, as if asking...
a glass of water from someone who's duty it was to bring it.
Show him who's going to be head of the household.
Suggest that it is not a favor
and flatter him, he loves that.
Dona Glória pays attention to what he says,
and since he must serve you, he'll speak with far more warmth...
than anyone else.
I'm not sure, Capitu.
-Then go to the seminary. -No, not that.
There's no harm in trying.
Go on, ask, order!
Look, tell him you're ready to study Law in SÃ£o Paulo.
I trembled with pleasure.
SÃ£o Paulo was a fragile partition to be removed one day,
instead of a thick spiritual and eternal wall.
l promised to speak to José Dias as proposed.
A THOUSAND LORD'S PRAYERS AND A THOUSAND HAIL MARY'S
l promised to pray a thousand Lord's Prayers and a thousand Hail Mary's...
if José Dias managed to prevent my being sent to the seminary.
It was an enormous sum.
l keep accumulating unfulfilled vows.
Ever since l was littie I always asked the heavens for favors...
in exchange for reciting prayers should they come true.
l recited the first ones, then put off the others and as they piled up
they were gradually forgotten.
So l arrived at the numbers twenty, thirty, fifty...
l arrived at hundreds and now thousands.
A thousand.
I lost count.
The stakes were now enormous nothing less than salvation...
or the shipwreck of my whole existence.
A thousand, a thousand, a thousand!
An amount was needed to pay for all those in arrears.
Order a hundred masses.
Or climb the hill at Glória on my knees.
Go to the Holy Land.
All the famous vows the old slave women told me about.
Hail Mary, full of grace...
...anything to save me.
COUSIN JUSTINA
The life of a priest is a fine one.
It's fine, but what I ask you is whether you'd like to be a priest.
I want what mother wants.
Cousin Glória wishes very much for you to take your vows.
But even if she didn't there's someone here at the house...
who has put it into her head.
Who?
Who?! Who do you think?!
Not Cousin Cosme, who doesn't care.
And it's not me.
José Dias?
Of course. Only today he reminded her of the vow.
With time, Cousin Glória may end up
forgetting the vow.
But how to forget with someone always going on about
the seminary to you?
And the lectures he gives her, praising the Church...
the life of the priest is this and that...
with all those words only he knows, all those mannerisms.
Mark my words, he's up to no good because he's about as religious as...
that lamp.
José Dias is a schemer, a flatterer, a speculator...
and in spite of that polite shell, uncouth.
Cousin Justina, would you be able to do something?
Of what?
Would you be able... supposing I didn't wish to become a priest...
could you ask mother...
Not that! This matter is firmly in Cousin Glória's mind...
and nothing in the world can change her resolve,
only time.
When you were tiny she was already telling everyone.
l won't remind her, l don't like contributing...
to the misfortune of others.
OTHERS' FEELINGS
I got no further, and afterwards regretted asking her.
l should have followed Capitu's advice,
Justina detained me a little, talked about the heat...
and the upcoming Conception celebrations and, finally, Capitu.
She didn't speak ill of her, she insinuated...
that she might become a pretty young woman, praised her manners.
l think cousin Justina found in the spectacle of strange feelings...
the vague resurrection of her own.
Pleasure can be derived by the lips doing the narrating.
Come ye again, restless shadows.
THE TIME IS SET
l must speak to you tomorrow, without fail. Choose where and let me know.
Tomorrow I have some shopping to do, you may go with me...
I'll ask your mother.
Do you have your class?
Class was today.
I see.
I won't ask what it is, it appears to be a serious matter.
Yes, sir.
Till tomorrow.
Bravo!
Bravo! Bravo!