These words are spoken by other mouths as well, those of Gilberto and Alberto, They’ll see, and it was a great moment in the history of the latifundio, for even the owners of the land got up early to be present at the dawning of the day, if you don’t look after what’s yours, the devil will take it, the sun is up and not a single devil has turned up for work, overseer, foreman and manager are nervous, but the countryside is a balm to the eyes, May, glorious May, and Norberto consults his watch, half past seven, still no one, This has all the look of a strike, says a lackey, but Adalberto responds angrily, Shut up, he is furious, he knows what he intends to do, they all know, it’s just a matter of waiting. And then the men begin to arrive, all together at the agreed hour, they politely say Good morning, why be bitter, and when it’s eight o’clock, they start work, this is what they had decided to do, but Dagoberto bawls, Stop, and they all stop and look at him with innocent eyes, What is it, sir, such sang-froid is enough to drive a man mad. Who told you to come to work at this hour, Norberto asks, and it is Manuel Espada who speaks for the other workers, We did, on some estates they’re already working an eight-hour day, and we are no less than our comrades on those other estates, and Berto strides over to him as if he were about to hit him, but he doesn’t, he wouldn’t go that far, On my land, the timetable is the same as it has always been, from dawn to dusk, it’s up to you, you either stay and tomorrow make up for the time lost this morning, or you leave, because I don’t want you here, That’s telling them, Dona Clemência will say later, when her husband boasts of his deeds, and then what happened, Then, Manuel Espada, who is married to Mau-Tempo’s daughter, he was the group’s spokesman, said, Fine, we’ll leave, and they all left, and when they were walking back up to Monte Lavre, António Mau-Tempo asked, What next, what do we do now, not because he was worried or afraid, his question was intended to help his brother-in-law, Now we do as we agreed, we gather together in the square, and if the guards turn up looking for trouble, we go home, and tomorrow we go back to work, we start scything at eight o’clock, like today, that, more or less, was what João Mau-Tempo said to another group of laborers, and Sigismundo Canastro to his group, and so they all gathered in the square, and the guards turned up, and Corporal Tacabo came over to them, So you don’t want to work, then, We do, but only for eight hours, and the boss doesn’t want to give us those eight hours of work, Sigismundo Canastro is speaking the honest truth, but the corporal wants to know more, So this isn’t a strike, No, we want to work, but the boss sent us away, he says we can’t work for just eight hours, and that clear response will cause Corporal Tacabo to say later on, I don’t know what to do with them, Senhor Dagoberto, the men say they want to work, and that it’s you who, but before he can finish his sentence, Dagoberto roars, They’re idlers, that’s what they are, either they work from dawn to dusk or they can die of hunger, there’s no work for them here, as far as I know the government has issued no edict regarding an eight-hour day, and even if they have, I’m in charge here, I own the land, and that was the end of his conversation with Corporal Tacabo, and so the day concluded, with each man going home to his house, and the women wanting to know what had happened, as we saw with Dona Clemência, and as is the right of the other women too.
The men do their calculations, they have earned no money today, and how many more days like this will there be, it depends on the place, elsewhere, the latifundio gave in after two days, in others three, in others four, and in some places they spent weeks embroiled in this tug of war, to see whose strength or patience would win out, in the end, the men didn’t bother turning up for work to find out if their conditions would be accepted, they stayed in the towns and villages, on strike, and this was all that was needed for the guards to return to their old ways, beating the workers and patrolling the latifundio on a war footing, but why repeat what everyone knows. Dagoberto and Alberto, Humberto and another Berto held out in their castles, however, the sacred alliance was beginning to unravel, and from other places came news of surrender, What should we do, Oh, leave them to it, they’ll pay for it in the end, Yes, I know, Father Agamedes, such vengeful thoughts are most unchristian, and I’ll do penance for it later, Well, it’s not quite that clear-cut, Senhor Alberto, in Deuteronomy the Lord says, Vengeance is mine, and I will repay, Father Agamedes is a real fount of knowledge, how is it that from a book as big as the bible he managed to glean that one vital passage, what further justification do we need.
Here in Monte Lavre, though, they were fortunate in that the shopkeepers were willing to extend their credit, and in other places too, but this story is of particular interest to us, because João Mau-Tempo has had to walk these streets filled with the shame of owing money he could not pay back, with his wife Faustina weeping in misery and grief, and now he is going from
