An immoral tale

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An immoral tale
written by Jacinto Benavente
Cuento inmoral ~ Translated by Luciana.
An immoral tale

What a commitment! Some days one feels of the greatest boldness, and nothing seems impossible. And I'm like it, there are two words that I rise up, turn me on blood and make me feel capable of anything: the word difficult and the word impossible. If someone says something is difficult, or impossible, and I respond to the point: There is nothing difficult, nothing is impossible, I do that, I do, it is discussed, crossed betting... I am obliged to sustain... and I'm in trouble... And now it is loose. Imagine someone told me yesterday: You who have so much sympathy in the audience, pretty much self-confidence and authority, or relief, let's see, do you not dare to introduce the audience and tell a story ... an immoral tale, one of those stories to be able, as consecrated phrase, to make a civil guard blush? I do not know what reason could there be for the Civil Guard to flush more refractory than any other armed Institute, the case is that the Civil Guard and the police share this privilege to light my blood. Nothing is impossible. And it was set to tell the tale. And what a story! It was chosen by popular vote in a cafe of waitresses, the waitressese took part in the election and their vote decided the outcome... Brave story! The poor girls only knew it for the title, and the title misled them. (It is not the first title that misleads.) It is a title so innoncent... seems a fairy tale... but, yeah, well there the little story is... Now I will tell you, at the only thought of it I blush... But nothing is impossible. Difficult, yes, in spite of myself I must confess that there is something difficult, and this is one of the difficult cases. I know you probably think I would not dare to tell the little story, for that reason you are so calm and so seated, without preparing to clear the theater, but not before calling me something... But, you do not know me. You do not know how the word impossible excites my nerves, all the chances of the world would not be enough to calm them down, as all the chances of the world would not be enough to calm them down, as all the chances of the world would not be enough to give my story an innocent way. I notice that you begin to get serious, you begin to be afraid of me being able of anything. Be easy I assured you, I will tell the story, do not doubt it, but my bet is not only to tell it but you listen to it, because, of course of telling it in a vacuum would have no difficulty, and I said that the difficult word exasperates me as much as the word impossible.

In orden you listen to me, I have to tell the story in some way... That's difficult but not impossible. I see you are calm now, you think that, after all, the story will have nothing in particular... Ah! The story is awful, capable of flushing (I hate consecrated phrases) capable of making an usher blush Hall Of News, How to tell it without, when it is heard, the ladies do not rise and the gentlemen, for gallantry of feeling they have to go out with them and I be left, alone, alone with the ushers, who are not as flush as foreign to the room above, accustomed to tango in all its details? Well, I'll tell the story and I tell you in such a way that its immorality depends on you observe the proper attitude, if you protest properly, immorality have disappeared as if you magic, and any pink novel Library is a story of Boccaccio compared to my story... And story goes.

This was a marriage, composed, like most marriages, by a woman, a husband and a ... (and I notice you malice and I warned you that everything is up to you.) by a woman, a husband and a child a few months, very few... As in all marriages, the woman's does not love her husband... Do you find you my statement too strong? Well, I hold it and I stand by. There is no marriage where the woman wants her husband... Are you shocked? Do you need to test? ... Right now I'm sure I heard plenty of married women... If there is one, one, you want your husband, I beg you to stand up and say so loudly. "I love my husband." (Pause.) You see? Not one! I said that your attittude depended on the immorality of my story. Can there be anything more immoral than between a portion of married women do not find even one who wants her husband? I won my bet. And now I am withdrawing shocked.

THE END This work is published here under the Creative Commons BY SA license and can be reproduced only under the same conditions.

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