DESPERATION
I escaped from José Dias, I escaped from my mother, not going to her room, but I could not escape from myself. I ran to my bedroom and shut myself in. I talked to myself, cursed myself, threw myself on the bed and thrashed about. I wept, stifling my sobs with a corner of the sheet. I vowed I would not go to see Capitu that afternoon, no, never again, and that I’d become a priest once and for all. I pictured myself ordained, standing in front of her as she wept with repentance and begged forgiveness, while I felt nothing but profound contempt, and coldly, serenely turned my back on her. I called her perverse. Twice I found myself grinding my teeth as if I had her there between them. From my bed I heard her voice. She had come to spend the remainder of the afternoon with my mother, and so of course with me, as on other occasions; but no matter how much I suffered it did not persuade me to leave my room. Capitu laughed out loud and spoke in a loud voice as if signalling to me, but I remained deaf, alone with myself and my contempt. My only wish was to dig my nails into her throat, thrusting them deep, and watch her life ebb away with her blood …