"Kill her without delay. This done, take her skin and carefully fold it away. Shouldst thou marry again, let the bride's sheet be that skin, and thus prevent another jilting. To still further strengthen her virtue, tell her gently but firmly: 'Sweetheart, this thy sheet was once my wife; see that thou dost carry thyself circumspectly lest thou, too, come to the same end. Remember that I am a hard and peevish man who does not stick at trifles.'"
At the beginning of this speech the men began to snicker, and when it ended they were guffawing loudly. An old peon, however, turned furiously on them:
"There is a proper prescription!" he said. "If that were done more often there would not be so many domestic troubles."
But Arcadio didn't seem to see it, and Bato recommended the philosophic attitude.
"Stop thy complaining and leave Laura to her lover. Free thus from obligations, thou wilt become rich, and be able to eat well, dress well, and truly enjoy life. The rest matters but little.... Seize, therefore, this opportunity toward thine own good fortune. And do not forget, I beg thee, once thy fortune is made, to regale this meager paunch of mine with good cheer."
"Shame!" cried the women, clucking. "How false!" "The desgraciado!" A man's voice piped up: "There is some truth in that, señoras! If it weren't for the women and children we all might be able to dress in fine clothes and ride upon a horse."
A fierce argument grew up around this point.
Arcadio lost patience with Bato, and the latter plaintively said:
"If thou hast any regard for poor Bato, let us go to supper."
Arcadio answered firmly, not until he had unburdened his heart.