Dom Casmurro 6.41 · 6.41

The scene ends where it must, on the uncle's disbelieving echo. He seizes the mother's own word and throws it back twice — 'Medo! Ora, medo!' — the repetition all scorn, unable to credit that fear should settle a practical question. The interjection 'Ora' dismisses the whole notion with a shrug.

But Cosme has no more moves than this. He can scoff, he cannot prevail; the mother's fear has closed the matter and he is left merely repeating the word he cannot argue away. It is the last stroke of his portrait — genial, opinionated, ultimately powerless in a house run on Glória's anxieties. The old narrator lets the uncle sputter and stops there, the small domestic contest decided in favour of maternal timidity, as so much in Bento's upbringing quietly is. The horse is never mentioned again.

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