“I will say little, or even nothing at all, if that is what’s required. First of all, I want to know what you are asking for.”

“We’re not asking for anything,” replied the barber, shaking. “We’re demanding that the Casa Verde be demolished, or, at the very least, that the poor unfortunates within be set free.”

“I don’t understand.”

“You understand perfectly well, tyrant; we want to liberate the victims of your hatred, your cruel whims, your greed . . .”

The alienist smiled, but the great man’s smile proved invisible to the eyes of the multitude; it was a faint contraction of two or three muscles, nothing more. He smiled and replied:

“Gentlemen, science is a serious matter, and deserves to be treated as such. I do not answer to anyone for my professional actions, save to God and the great masters of Science. If you are seeking changes in how the Casa Verde is run, I am prepared to listen; but if you are asking me to reject everything I believe in, you will go away empty-handed. I could invite some of you, as a delegation, to come and visit the poor deranged inmates with me, but I won’t do so, because that would entail explaining my whole system, which is something I will never reveal to laymen, still less to rebels.”

Thus spoke the alienist to the astonished crowd; they were clearly not expecting him to exhibit such determination, still less such serenity. Their amazement grew still greater when the alienist gave a solemn bow to the crowd, then turned and went slowly back inside. The barber quickly came to his senses and, brandishing his hat, invited his friends to go with him and tear down the Casa Verde. Only a few half-hearted voices responded. It was at this decisive moment that the barber felt the first stirrings of an ambition to govern; it seemed to him that by demolishing the Casa Verde and defeating the alienist, he would be able to seize control of the municipal council, confound the agents of the Crown, and make himself master of Itaguaí. For years he had been struggling to get his name included on the ballot from which the councillors were drawn, but had always been rejected because his station in life was considered incompatible with such high office. It was now or never. Besides, he had taken this mutiny so far now that defeat would mean imprisonment, or perhaps even the gallows, or exile. Unfortunately for the barber, the alienist’s reply had tempered the crowd’s fury. When he realized this, the barber felt a surge of indignation; he wanted to yell: “Coward! Scoundrels!” but he restrained himself and took another tack:

“Let us fight, dear friends, to the very end! The salvation of Itaguaí is in your noble and heroic hands! Let us tear down the prison of your sons and fathers, of your mothers and sisters, of your relatives and friends, and of your own good selves. If not, you will waste away on a diet of bread and water, or perhaps be flogged to death, in the dungeons of that despicable man.”