December 1, 1640 - December 2, 1640

                DECEMBER 1, 1640

                Freedom at last! This day shall be engraved in the annals of History as the beginning of a new era, a golden age succeeding the rebirth of the sovereign Portuguese Empire! My comrades and I stormed the palace and proclaimed the long-awaited liberty! To my surprise, however, my rescuer was not present in the morning of our revolt; he who, nevertheless, attended all nightly reunions among us, the conspirators, with infallible assiduity.


                DECEMBER 2, 1640

                Justice has finally been made! Attempting to flee from the wrath towards Spain inveterate in the Portuguese blood, my nemesis hath gathered his appurtenances and prepared to leave his ostentatious residence when I, noticing the figure of the Hapsburg knave yonder, sprang from the forge and ran to him! With a steel hammer in my right hand and a blazing iron rod on the left, I intercepted the opulent caravan and snatched the Spanish scoundrel from his coach! His men besiege me, unsheathing their swords and knives, but they could not withstand the fury boiling within the veins of he who hath suffered for their master’s cowardice! Nevertheless, my foe hath drawn a crafty weapon, called a pistol. As I lunged to him with hammer and rod ready to become instruments of death and chagrin, the knave shot a thick projectile unto my stomach. The pain was excruciating; the agony nearly arrested my body from further motion. Nevertheless, I was able to vindicate my stained honor with a last burst of vitality! My hammer shattered the coward’s skull as the latter tried to unsheathe his embossed rapier, and he fell to the ground in that instant. The blazing edge of my rod thrust his deceased breast, leaving a round mark of posthumous vexation! His thugs could not share any less of their fallen master’s falsehood: instead of avenging the coward, they took flight with his belongings, that they might spend it some lowlife tavern or heathen brothel, far away from this fair city! As for me, I was carried back to my smithy, leaving a trail of bile and blood as two humble peasants dragged me diligently. Later, as the sunset pronounced the coming of the moon, a physician passed by my workshop and, noticing my miserable state, proceeded to heal me in the best way his skill allowed him to. He was able to retrieve the lead sphere and stitch the wound, which granted me great relief; however, I cannot work unless my stomach ceases to ache when I pound the metal.

The End

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