The Countess Of Assis - Romance, revenge and ambition during the Second Reign

by PAULO FOSCHI, JOÃO; Sobrinho, Vanusa;

  However, there was something deeper that troubled the daughter of the Duartes Valões, something that was bigger than money itself or even any virtue that she might want to have. And the true reason of her anguish came from her birthplace and her origins. Lorena, since an early age, was maliciously referred to as the “the Turquish’s daughter” by her neighbors and acquaintances, because she had a father who was greedier about money than any other business owner in town. Not having noble ancestry, she would never have access to the Imperial Castle nor participate in the big events promoted by the Court. Even though her family was considered “bourgeois” and had a certain financial stability, this was not enough for her to find her happiness. In regards to this, she had been born without luck. Her father did not descend of any noble person that had been part of the Crusades, or even someone who had inherited a noble title, neither her mother had in her family tree any direct connections with a Carolingian[8] ancestor.

  Even having at her disposal all that her father possessed, Lorena was aware that the world was divided by abundance and scourge. This evil metal nicknamed “money” can buy everything, except a noble blood. If she wanted to become part of the world flourished by the titles of the nobility, she must have noble blood in her veins, or at least to acquire a spouse’s title by means of marriage.

  It is from this domestic setting that this hapless story starts, telling the story of the dilemma of this Victorian[9] woman. For now, it is necessary to know the mishaps that destiny had reserved to this Brazilian soul — intense, admirable and fatal — and necessarily in this order. This is how the woman of this golden century, behind the laces and jewelry, hid her charms, secrets and passions.

  Chapter II

  It was time for the rosary prayers.

  The home office of the Duarte Valões was filled with women from the neighborhood and Lorena among them, even though she thought the prayer moment to be unpleasant. Hail Mary, full of grace... She didn’t want to be there, on the contrary, she wished to be in her father’s store, seated by the counter to see people coming and going around downtown. The Lord is with thee... She couldn’t concentrate in her thoughts that way, and once in a while she would open her eyes to see what was happening around her. All she could see was that she was surrounded by a bunch of whining women! She looked at Mrs. Conceição Venâncio, one of the street gossipers, pretending to be pious with her grimy rosary in her hands. “Oh, how hypocritical!” Lorena thought, for many times she had heard the woman badmouthing Mr. Juca, the grocer at the street corner, when talking to Lorena’s mother...blessed art thou among the women... Ah, she couldn’t stand that anymore! She wanted to run away from there and snuggle in a nook in the company of her romance books... pray for us sinners... She tried to focus on her inner thoughts about her outing on Sunday and was very curious because Carolina, during the last time they had seen each other, had said that she wanted to tell her and Mercedes a big secret... now and at the hour of our death... She couldn’t contain her anxiety no more: I wonder what she wants to tell me! And absorbed with her own thoughts, she forgot where she was and what they were doing... Amen. Such was the grip her own thoughts had on herself that she hadn’t realized she had audibly said this last sentence and that the rosary had already finished.

  I wonder what she wants to tell me! What was supposed to be simply a thought had been heard by all the women in the room. And the young lady only realized that when she heard Mrs. Teodora pretending to clear her throat in order to call her attention.

  “Lorena, what are you talking about?” her mother asked, with severity.

  “Nothing, my mother! I was just thinking about something Carolina wants to tell me on Sunday...”

  Mrs. Teodora rolled her eyes, as if she couldn’t stand her daughter’s sudden distractions. Turning her back to her daughter, she invited the women to join her for tea, and soon they all forgot the solemn prayer moment, gossiping animatedly about the latest weddings and scandals of their neighborhood.

  Mrs. Conceição Venâncio, seeing that the young lady, the hostess’s daughter, would not be joining them for tea, quickly took her aside and asked why she was so distant and thoughtful, but Lorena answered her promptly.

  “Forgive me for being so absently minded, Mrs. Conceição, but I am indeed tired and, now that I have said my prayers, I’d rather just rest until my father gets home.”

  “Dear Lord, my dear! Far from me to deprive you from your rest! I am just a poor old lady, approaching my 70 years of age! But since you were a young child, I always see you like that and, I say that as someone who holds your family dear, you should get out more often, breathe in the outside air, sunbathe... You are so pale! I almost never see you getting out of the house, the poor thing! Ah, during my golden years a lady such as you was required to develop a healthy, strong body, if I say so! These days, young ladies are all pale, skinny and sick...”

  Lorena answered back with a faded smile and backed away from there towards the living room. However, as she neared the stairway, she noticed somebody was knocking on the door. It was Mr. Estevão, one of her father’s helpers.

  “Mr. Estevão, what brings you here?”

  “My apologies, Miss, but I must speak to your mother at once.” The man seemed to be in great hurry.

  “Has something happened to my father?” Lorena asked with worry.

  “Not at all, Miss! It just happened that he sent me to give Mrs. Teodora a message; and it is urgent.”

  She invited him to seat down and went to get her mother, who came to the door hurriedly.

  “My apologies for the inconvenience, Mrs. Teodora, but the boss sent you this note and asked that I wait for your answer.”

  She read the note rapidly and gave him a quick answer, “It’s all good. Tell him that there is no problem, but that he should not be long. Ah, this husband of mine!”

  Lorena didn’t understand the situation and inquired her mother about the contents of the note. Mrs. Teodora bluntly told her that her father said that he was going to be late because of a meeting and that he would get home past supper time. Saying that, she went back to her guests. Yet Lorena was not satisfied with her mother’s answer and was left questioning where was this meeting and what is was about.

  Later on, after supper, and when she was already getting ready to go to sleep, Lorena heard her parents talking in the living room and it sounded like they were arguing. Dressed in her nightgown, she went out in the hall and, walking very quietly so she wouldn’t be heard, she started down towards the voices. It was really a serious argument between Mr. Gaspar and Mrs. Teodora.

  “Republican Party?” Mrs. Teodora asked, horrified. “Where did you get this absurd idea from, my husband?”

  “There is nothing absurd about it, woman!” Mr. Gaspar was visibly agitated. “We can certainly turn this country truly independent with the proclamation of the Republic. See what happened in North America and in France, for example...”

  “I don’t agree! You are putting our family in risk by bracing this infamous cause. The Empire has supported us, and peace has been with us thanks to emperor D. Pedro II! You are obsessed because of this bunch of unoccupied anarchists of Botafogo... and listen carefully, Gaspar! Don’t you fear retaliation? Or now you also intend to free our slaves, just like these abolitionists?”

  “You know very well that if it was for me, I would already have freed them all...”

  “Ah, there it is then! Now you are saying that I’m the one to blame for it!”

  “I didn’t say that...” the husband said, exasperated.

  “But this is what you insinuated. I cannot stand this anymore, Gaspar! As if the problems with our daughter were not enough, now you come and tell me this, as well?! This is unacceptable! What do you want? That they take away our house? Shut down the store? Do you want us to be exiled from here?”

  “Oh come on, Teodora! Stop with this neurasthenia! I just want to participate in a cause that I admire and support. With the Republic, we will ha
ve rights; we will be able to choose our leaders! Have you thought about it? You shall see men chosen by the nation very soon, from the north to the south of Brazil. This is a cause that deserves my complete devotion!”

  “And a cause that will also be your ultimate destruction, you foolish! As soon as they hear about it here on our street we will be doomed. Soon they will start gossiping. If you only knew how nothing gets passed unnoticed by these people... And remember what you promised at the beginning of the week! That you would go to church with us because of Lorena, but no! You don’t think of anyone but yourself.”

  “Stop with this nonsense, woman!”

  “Nonsense? There! Watch out how you talk to me! It is always this way: Shut up! Don’t say anything stupid! It seems that I am less than the slaves sold at the market...”

  “You are overacting! What kind of husband have I been to you, if not very understanding? Everything you ask me I give to you, Teodora! You and our daughter have always had everything you ever needed!”

  After her husband finished his discourse, Mrs. Teodora sat at her usual armchair asking herself: My dear Lord, why did I marry this man? Not being able to contain herself anymore with such foolishness, she protested him swiftly:

  “You are so unfair with me, Gaspar! You throw your obligations on my face as if they were some of your charities. But you forget that we are married and that we have a daughter, our only child. Is it not your obligation to take care of both of us? I am flesh of your flesh, and Lorena is blood of your blood! Why did you marry me, then?” On Mrs. Teodora’s face a single tear run down, result of her fury.

  Her husband lowered his eyes and passed his hands through his salt and pepper hair. How could his wife be so dramatic? “You are too fast at throwing stones at me, Teodora. If we got married it is because you were to me the most adored of all women. But now, after all these years, I ask myself: if I have met you such as you are today, would I still have married you?”

  “What do you mean by that? Are you saying you have regretted marrying me?”

  “I don’t know! What do you think, my dearest wife?” Mr. Gaspar asked, with an enigmatic tone.

  Mrs. Teodora, no longer able to take in the weight of her husband’s words, placed her hands on her temple as if the pressure of their conflict was crushing her. Noticing that it would be wiser to change her discourse to appease the argument, she decided to soften up to her husband. She tried to change the tone of her voice, thinking that by saying things softly she might convince him to stop what for her was utter nonsense.

  “Gaspar, please! Is there any way you can give up on this idea?” she said, getting close to him with false tenderness. “I mean, I’m pleading to you to think this over. No decision can be made this way, without reflection. Think about what this will reflect upon our family. Your mother, for example! Would she be happy with this idea of freeing the slaves?”

  “What does my mother have to do with this? She does not even live in the Court anymore...”

  “But she has always been supportive of the imperial cause. I still remember the last time we visited her... she insisted on saying that our times are better, even better than Father Feijó’s time[10]!”

  “My mother does not understand about politics, Teodora. In fact, she only understands about cooking, ironing, clothes, embroidered work and taking care of her children. And you, my dear, is no different than her” – when he said that, he noticed an expression of displeasure on her face. But wanting to put an end to the argument, he preferred to soothe his wife’s spirit. “Teodora, I insist in saying that there’s no reason for you to worry about. I’ll go with you two in as many masses as you want me to, but don’t ask me to change my mind about my ideals.”

  “Alright, then! I won’t insist with you anymore, but when the time comes, do not forget that I warned you!” Mrs. Teodora said as she mournfully left the living room. Lorena, realizing the fight was over, run down the hallway to her room so that her mother wouldn’t catch her eavesdropping.

  There, next to her bed and her big mirror in which she liked to admire herself, Lorena run her eyes through her room, and reflected about the contents of her parents’ argument, about the said republican cause. She just thought that a country without a strong figure such as a ruler could not be civilized. In the romances she had read, there were always knights loyal to their lords, usually noblemen and kings. And weren’t the heroines the princesses, daughters of a powerful nobleman? There must have been a mistake in her father’s words! That was the first time she saw him so upset...

  She looked to the crucifix hanging on the wall and what she saw was simply the face of a saddened Christ, hung and moribund; even so, she decided to kneel down in front of him to do her daily prayers and do ask God to change her father’s mind so that he would abandon this meaningless cause. However, in that moment she didn’t feel like saying anything. She got up faster than she kneeled down and decided to say a different prayer, remembering with horror Mrs. Conceição’s “angelic” expression during rosary prayers.

  “Dear Lord, my God, where does all this angst that lives inside of me come from? Ah...it cannot be anything else but a mix of fear and revolt!” She looked once more to the crucifix with a concentrated expression. “Yes, revolt in having to subject myself to these moral laws that insist in tormenting me. And fear of having to pay a high price for thinking this way. Why do I carry this inside of me, dear Lord? Why do I feel this strange aversion if this is my parents’ religion? I know I didn’t learn this from my mother... When I was a child, everything seemed pure and enchanting, and now I see the world full of differences, cruelty, and perfidy. Why? Why do I despise the divine precepts and see no value in them? Those hypocrite old ladies! They use religion as a pretext to say bad things about people, to spread gossips...” Saying that, she continued to pace around in her chamber as if she had no destination. Many times she would stop to gaze at the image of the vituperated Christ on her chamber’s wall, and she simply saw a disfigured, dead god. She approached the crucifix again and touched the hanging face of that savior that seemed to not even care about her troubles. No, he didn’t care!

  “Indeed, you most certainly cannot help me!” said Lorena staring longingly at the image. “You, that it is said to be my savior, you are nothing but a lifeless piece of wood! Definitely, I don’t need you!” Lorena made a face of repugnance and disdain, and stripped the crucifix off the wall, breaking it in pieces. If her faith had been destroyed, may her indignation be as intense as her loathing. Eventually, she threw herself on the bed and cried until the gentle breeze of the night that entered through the window involved her in a deep slumber.

  Chapter III

  The landscape was breathtaking since the borders of Glória Square, specially the well-known nook, next to the church called Nossa Senhora da Glória do Outeiro, which was slowly transformed into the renowned carioca Saint-Germain-de-Près[11]. It was exactly in this place that our second emperor was baptized and also where, years before, Estácio de Sá[12] had been shot dead in one of the battles against the French buccaneers. The radiant atmosphere of the place indicated to those passing by the existence of a nearby garden, green and full of flowers, and of a plaza particularly pleasant that Sunday morning. A couple was walking by on one side the fountain and on the other side, children accompanied by their parents laughed and jumped up and down the benches.

  Meanwhile, three young ladies were also strolling by, full of elegance and charm, so much so that they could steal the heart of any eligible bachelor. Those young ladies had sophistication and refinement, besides having a gracious and happy spirit, as if created specifically to seduce. They were a supreme reproduction of the gentle encounter of Aglaia, Euphrosyne and Thalia[13] depicted by Botticelli[14].

  Lorena, as always, could not avoid laughing after hearing the latest updates of her friends Mercedes and Carolina about the last ball they had been invited to.

  “You won’t believe, Lorena! Adélia’s dress did not suit he
r well and...” Mercedes was saying while she played with the delicate sunshade she was holding.

  “And what happened is... everybody ended up laughing at that awkward girl, specially because that outfit is not for a lady of the society, not for sure!” Carolina was all modesty and decency.

  All that talking and grimaces were piling up on Lorena’s mind, so much so that she had to interrupt the richness of her friends’ detailed narratives.

  “Ladies, please! I believe it is time for us to return home...”

  As soon as she said that the protests started. And Carolina was the one more earnest about the whole thing:

  “Are you alright, Lorena? You do not seem to be enjoying our stories. Was it not you that used to enjoy our stories the most?”

  “No, nothing is the matter! It is just that I feel tired and I want to go back to my godmother’s house... In fact, don’t forget it is almost dinnertime[15] and they must be already waiting for us...”