Back The Alienist Save as PDF
Chapters (32)
  1. The Alienist by Machado de Assis
  2. Title page
  3. I. How Itaguai Acquired a Madhouse
  4. II. A Torrent of Madmen
  5. III. God Knows What He is Doing
  6. IV. A New Theory
  7. V. The Terror
  8. VI. The Rebellion
  9. VII. The Unexpected
  10. VIII. The Druggist’s Dilemma
  11. IX. Two Beautiful Cases
  12. X. The Restoration
  13. XI. Release and Joy
  14. XII. The Last Part of the Fourth Item
  15. XIII. Plus Ultra
  16. Notes
  17. Illuminations for The Alienist by Machado de Assis
  18. Title page
  19. Machado de Assis’ Rio de Janeiro
  20. The Bay of Rio by Fannie E. Coe
  21. The City and Its Institutionsby A.J. Lamoureux
  22. Photograph
  23. Photograph
  24. Reading I
  25. Photograph
  26. Art and Insanity in the 19th century
  27. Genius and Insanityby Dr. William Hirsch
  28. Reading II
  29. Illustration
  30. Illustration
  31. Reading III
  32. Photograph

Hamlet observes to Horatio that there are more things in heaven and earth than are dreamt of in our philosophy. This was the selfsame explanation that was given by beautiful Rita to her lover, Camillo, on a certain Friday of November 1869, when Camillo laughed at her for having gone, the previous evening, to consult a fortune-teller. The only difference is that she made her explanation in other words.

“Laugh, laugh. That’s just like you men; you don’t believe in anything. Well, let me tell you, I went there and she guessed the reason for my coming before I ever spoke a word. Scarcely had she begun to lay out the cards when she said to me: ‘The lady likes a certain person . . .’ I confessed that it was so, and then she continued to re-arrange the cards in various combinations, finally telling me that I was afraid you would forget me, but that there were no grounds for my fear.”

“She was wrong!” interrupted Camillo with a laugh.

“Don’t say that, Camillo. If you only realized in what anguish I went there, all on account of you. You know. I’ve told you before. Don’t laugh at me; don’t poke fun at me . . .”

Camillo seized her hands and gazed into her eyes earnestly and long. He swore that he loved her ever so much, that her fears were childish; in any case, should she ever harbor a fear, the best fortune-teller to consult was he himself. Then he reproved her, saying that it was imprudent to visit such houses. Villela might learn of it, and then . . .

“Impossible! I was exceedingly careful when I entered the place.”

“Where is the house?”

“Near here. On Guarda-Velha street. Nobody was passing by at the time. Rest easy. I’m not a fool.”

Camillo laughed again.

“Do you really believe in such things?” he asked.

It was at this point that she translated Hamlet into every-day speech, assuring her lover that there was many a true, mysterious thing in this world. If he was skeptical, let him have patience. One thing, however, was certain: the card reader had guessed everything. What more could he desire? The best proof was that at this moment she was at ease and content.