He was a bachelor, by virtue of circumstance rather than vocation. As a young man he had enjoyed several passing flirtations, but, as time passed, the itching for rank and status had set in, and it was this that prolonged his bachelorhood until he was forty-one, the age at which we now see him. He hoped for a bride superior to both him and the circles in which he moved, and he wasted his time in waiting for her. He even attended dances given by a rich and celebrated lawyer for whom he transcribed documents, and who made him his protégé. At these dances, however, he occupied the same subaltern position he held at the office; he would spend the evening wandering the hallways, peering into the ballroom, watching the ladies pass by, devouring with his eyes a multitude of magnificent shoulders and elegant figures. He envied the other men and imitated them. He would leave full of enthusiasm and determination. When there were no dances, he would attend religious processions, where he could feast his eyes on some of the most eligible young ladies in the city. He was also to be found in the courtyard of the imperial palace on gala days, watching the great ladies and gentlemen of the court, together with ministers, generals, diplomats, and high court judges; he recognized everyone and everything, both the individuals themselves and their carriages. He would return from church or palace just as he returned from a ball, feeling impetuous and passionate, ready to grasp the laurels of fortune.

The worst of it is that between hand and branch stood that wall of which the poet spoke, and Rangel was not a man to leap over walls. Everything that he did, from razing cities to carrying off their womenfolk, he did only in his imagination. More than once he imagined himself a minister of state, wallowing in a surfeit of salutations and decrees. One year, on the second of December, as he was returning from the birthday parade on Largo do Paço, he even went so far as to proclaim himself emperor; to this end he envisaged a revolution, in which some blood was spilled, but only a little, followed by a benevolent dictatorship, in which he merely took revenge for a few minor grudges from his days as a court clerk. However, all his daring deeds were but fairy tales. In reality, he was a quiet, discreet fellow.