The History of the Siege of Lisbon

The evidence provided by most of the events that have so far constituted the main core of this narrative has convinced Raimundo Silva that it was pointless trying to impose his own point of view even when it stemmed dirécdy, as it were, from that negative introduced into a history which, until he made the change, had remained prisoner of this particular fatality we call facts, whether they make sense in relation to other facts, or inexplicably surface at a determined moment in our state of consciousness. He recognises that his freedom began and ended at that precise moment when he wrote the word Not, that from then on a new and no less imperious fatality had got under way, and that he has no other choice than to try and understand what, having initially appeared to stem from his initiative and reflection, is now seen to have resulted from a mechanism that was, and continues to be, external, of whose functioning he only has the vaguest idea and in whose activity he only intervenes with the aleatory handling of levers and buttons the real function of which escapes him, aware only that this is his role, to be the button or lever moved in their turn at will by the emergence of unexpected impulses, or if predictable and even self-induced, totally unpredictable as regards their consequences, whether immediate or remote. Therefore we can confirm, since he effectively never foresaw that he would write a new history of the siege of Lisbon, as narrated here, that he suddenly finds himself confronted with the outcome of a necessity as implacable as that other, from which he thought he could escape by the simple inversion of a sign only to find himself falling for it once more, now negatively, or, to speak in less radical terms, as if he had written the same music lowering all the notes half a tone. Raimundo Silva is seriously thinking of bringing his narrative to a full stop, of returning the crusaders to the Tagus, they cannot be far away, perhaps somewhere between the Algarve and Gibraltar, thus allowing the history to materialise without variations, as a mere repetition of the facts, as they appear in manuals and The History of the Siege of Lisbon. He considers that the tiny tree of the Science of Errors he planted has already given its true fruit, or promised it, which was to make this man encounter this woman, and if this has been accomplished let this new chapter begin, just as one interrupts the diary of a sea-voyage at the moment of discovering uncharted land, obviously it is not forbidden to continue writing the diary kept on board, but that would be another story, not that of the voyage which has ended, but that of the discovery and what was discovered. Raimundo Silva suspects, however that such a decision, if he were to take it, would not please Maria Sara, that she would look at him with indignation, not to say an unbearable expression of disappointment. This being so, there will be no final stop in the meantime, only a pause until the announced visit takes place, besides, at this very moment, Raimundo Silva would be incapable of writing another word, since he has lost all composure as he starts imagining that Mogueime on the eve of the planned mass assault, on setting eyes on Lisbon's walls shining in the glow of the flares on the terraces, might have turned his thoughts to a woman he had seen several times in recent days, Ouroana, the concubine of a German crusader, who at this very hour is probably sleeping with her master, up there on the Monte da Gra9a, almost certainly inside a house on a mat stretched out on cool tiles where no Moor will ever rest again. Mogueime felt stifled inside the tent and came out to get some air, Lisbon's walls illuminated by the bonfires appeared to be made of copper, Let me not die, My Lord, without having savoured life. Raimundo Silva now asks himself what similarities there are between the picture imagined and his relationship with Maria Sara, who is nobody's concubine, if you'll pardon that indelicate word which is no longer relevant in describing sexual mores, after all what she said was, I ended an affair three months ago and since then there have been no more affairs, the situations are obviously different, and we can assume all they have in common is desire, felt as deeply by Mogueime at that time as by Raimundo now, such differences as exist, are purely cultural, yes, Sir.