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La vidéo d’une durée de 14:47:53 secondes, intitulée Noli me tángere de José Rizal « Bienvenue à * maintenant d’histoires *, où nous redécouvrons les grandes œuvres de la littérature universelle. Aujourd’hui, nous présentons ** noli me tángere **, le célèbre roman de ** José Rizal **, considéré comme l’une des pièces les plus influentes de l’histoire des Philippines et un phare littéraire de la lutte pour la liberté. publié en 1887, ce chef-d’œuvre combine la romance, la satire, la critique sociale et politique, montrant grossièrement les injustices du domaine colonial espagnol aux Philippines. À travers les yeux de ** Juan Crisóstomo Ibarra **, Rizal peint un portrait vif de l’oppression, de la corruption de bureau et de l’éveil d’une conscience nationale qui a marqué le début du mouvement vers l’indépendance. Dans ce récit, vous découvrirez: – ;idéalisme d’Ibarra et son amour pour María Clara. – La plainte contre la corruption et les abus coloniaux. – Une profonde réflexion sur l’identité, la justice et la liberté. Si vous êtes passionné par la littérature classique et les histoires qui inspirent les changements sociaux, ce livre audio est pour vous. Immergez-vous dans l’œuvre qui a déclenché l’étincelle du nationalisme philippin et qui continue de résonner fortement. Abonnez-vous à notre chaîne pour des classiques plus inoubliables: https://bit.ly/ahoradecuentosofíficial – noli me tangere de josé rizal | AUDUOB VIEUX EN Espagnol [https://youtu.be/EyR4k0f3Pl8]
-Gloria (roman complet) par Benito Pérez Galdós [https://youtu.be/89gxOhMDa-c]
– l’opinion d’Eduardo Zamacois | Une histoire profonde et émouvante [https://youtu.be/TPSbgBNkWTM]

Laissez-nous votre commentaire sur ce que vous avez pensé de ce travail et partagez cette vidéo avec d’autres amateurs de littérature! #NOLIMETAGERER # Josérizal #Audiolibro #Literaturaclasic #Filipinas #Historia #NovelHistorica #classics Delliterature #Audiolibroseepepepencence # Maríaclara # ChrisóstomOibarra #ColonialismOismo #LiberTad #Justicia #Identity ** Navigation ORIDE #LiberTad #Justicia #Identity ** Navigation OryoMe #LiberTad #just 00:00:42 Chapitre 1. 00:26:10 Chapitre 2. 00:32:15 Chapitre 3. 00:41:51 Chapitre 4. 00:55:57 Chapitre 5. 01:01:03 Chapitre 6. 01:26:24 Chapitre 7. 01:45:09 Chapitre 8. 01:55:46 Chapitre 9. 02:05:02 CHAPIT 02:22:18 Chapitre 12. 02:31:12 Chapitre 13. 02:38:19 Chapitre 14. 02:56:49 Chapitre 15. 03:05:22 Chapitre 16. 03:17:02 Chapitre 17. 03:27:15 Chapitre 18. 03:40:25 Chapitre 19. 04:00:48 Chapitre 20. 04:23:53 CHAPIT 22. 04:46:31 Chapitre 23. 05:12:14 Chapitre 24. 05:23:44 Chapitre 25. 05:36:38 Chapitre 26. 06:00 Chapitre 29. 06:47:26 Chapitre 30. 06:59:03 Chapitre 31. 07:06:47 Chapitre 32. 07:28:18 Chapitre 33. 07:49:18 Chapitre 34. 07:56:16 Chapitre 35. 08:00:21 Chapitre 36. 08:16:16 Chapitre 37. 08:28:19 Chapitre 38. 08:35:34 Chapitre 39. 08:41:02 Chapitre 40. 08:52:46 Chapitre 41. 09:02:26 CHAPITRE 42. 09:23:39 Chapitre 43. 09:44:34 Chapitre 45. 10:09:53 Chapitre 46. 10:15:31 Chapitre 47 48. 10:39:52 Chapitre 49. 10:59:38 Chapitre 50. 11:10:00 Chapitre 51. 11:15:09 Chapitre 52. 11:35:23 Chapitre 53. 11:50:20 Chapitre 54. 12:17:56 Chapitre 57. 12:29:21 Chapitre 58. 12:41:18 Chapitre 59. 12:54:54 Chapitre 60. 13:11:15 Chapitre 61. 13:18:32 Chapitre 62. 13:38:15 Chapitre 63. 14:00:22 Chapitre 64. 14:14:22 CHAPITRE 65. 14:21:05 Chapitre 66. ».

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La gestion des pannes d’éclairage public : un enjeu stratégique pour les villes

Rendre la gestion des pannes plus réactive avec AppliJeSignale

Pour relever ces enjeux, un système de signalement efficace est incontournable. AppliJeSignale permet aux usagers de signaler toute panne d’éclairage public de manière rapide et simple, sans avoir à télécharger une application ou à créer un compte. Les pannes d’éclairage public peuvent affecter la tranquillité et la sécurité. Pour une solution rapide et efficace, signalez le problème à l’aide de notre site .

Un outil pensé pour améliorer les relations entre collectivités et citoyens

L’adoption d’AppliJeSignale permet une gestion plus réactive des pannes d’éclairage public. Les collectivités peuvent ainsi intervenir plus rapidement, ce qui diminue les risques liés à la sécurité des citoyens. Un autre atout est l’optimisation des coûts, grâce à des diagnostics rapides qui réduisent le besoin d’interventions coûteuses. En outre, l’implication des citoyens est renforcée, puisqu’ils peuvent directement signaler les problèmes qu’ils rencontrent.

Sécurité et éclairage public : un duo indispensable

La sécurité, la fluidité des déplacements nocturnes et le confort des citoyens dépendent en grande partie de l’éclairage public. Ce dernier joue un rôle clé pour diminuer les accidents et prévenir la criminalité. Néanmoins, les défaillances de l’éclairage urbain sont fréquentes et impactent la qualité de vie des habitants.

L’avenir de l’éclairage public : plus intelligent et respectueux de l’environnement

Aujourd’hui, l’éclairage public ne se fait plus avec des lanternes à gaz. L’électricité est devenue la norme. Tandis que Paris choisit un éclairage constant de ses rues, de nombreuses villes préfèrent des systèmes à minuterie et des lampes à éclairage décroissant pour faire des économies d’énergie. Par ailleurs, les installations d’éclairage public sont soumises aux normes de sécurité du code du travail. Afin d’améliorer la gestion des pannes d’éclairage public, les villes doivent se tourner vers des solutions plus intelligentes et durables. L’éclairage LED, qui consomme moins d’énergie et dure plus longtemps, est une première réponse efficace. Les capteurs intelligents ajustent l’intensité lumineuse en fonction de la fréquentation des espaces publics, tandis que les systèmes de gestion à distance permettent de surveiller le réseau en temps réel. Cette gestion optimisée permet de réduire les coûts, de renforcer la sécurité et de préserver l’environnement. AppliJeSignale est un outil indispensable pour soutenir cette transition vers un éclairage plus responsable.

L’utilisation d’AppliJeSignale : un processus simple et rapide

AppliJeSignale facilite la gestion des pannes d’éclairage. Pas besoin de téléchargement ou de création de compte, il vous suffit d’accéder au site via un appareil connecté. En quelques clics, vous signalez la panne et les informations sont envoyées aux autorités. Le suivi est simple et vous permet de savoir si le problème a été pris en charge et comment évolue la situation.

Pourquoi les coupures d’éclairage public posent problème

L’absence de maintenance de l’éclairage public entraîne plusieurs conséquences, parmi lesquelles une hausse des risques pour les piétons et les automobilistes, particulièrement dans les zones à forte circulation ou près des passages piétons. Cela dégrade également la qualité de vie en altérant la sécurité perçue et l’attrait des espaces publics. En outre, les défaillances génèrent des coûts plus élevés pour les finances publiques, car des réparations tardives sont souvent plus onéreuses que des actions préventives. De plus, elles entraînent une consommation excessive d’énergie, principalement due à des équipements dégradés ou obsolètes.

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#Noli #tángere #José #Rizal #Audiolibro #Completo #Español

Retranscription des paroles de la vidéo: Welcome to Now for Stories. Today we delve into one of the most influential works of Philippine literature: Noli me tángere by José Rizal. Published in 1887, this novel marked a before and after in the history of the Philippines, not only as a literary story, but also as a call to social conscience. Through the experiences of Crisóstomo Ibarra and a group of unforgettable characters, Rizal reveals the injustices of the Spanish colonial regime, ecclesiastical corruption, and the suffering of the people. Listening to this story is like traveling to the heart of a nation in search of dignity and freedom. Chapter 1. A MEETING. At the end of October, Don Santiago de los Santos, popularly known as Captain Tiago, was hosting a dinner party, which, despite having been announced only that afternoon, contrary to custom, was already the topic of conversation in Binondo, other suburbs, and even in Intramuros. Captain Tiago was then considered the most effusive of men, and it was known that his house, like his country, was closed to no one, except to commerce or any new or daring idea. The news spread like an electric shock throughout the world of parasites, flies, or worms that God created in His infinite goodness and so lovingly multiplies in Manila. Some sought shoe polish for their boots; others, buttons and ties, but all were concerned with how to greet the owner of the house more familiarly, to make him believe in old friendships, or to excuse themselves, if necessary, for not having been able to arrive earlier. This dinner was held in a house on Anloague Street, and since we don’t remember the number, we will describe it in a way that will still be recognizable , if the tremors haven’t ruined it. We do not believe that its owner will have it demolished, because this work is usually carried out there by God or Nature, which also has many works contracted by our Government. It is a fairly large building, in the style of many in the country, located towards the part that overlooks an arm of the Pasig, called by some the Binondo estuary, and which plays, like all the rivers of Manila, the multiple role of bathroom, sewer, laundry, fishing, means of transport and communication and even drinking water, if the Chinese water carrier deems it convenient . It is noteworthy that this powerful artery of the suburb, where the traffic bustles most and the comings and goings stun, for a distance of almost a kilometer, only has a wooden bridge, broken on one side for six months and impassable on the other the rest of the year. Such that, during the hot season, the horses take advantage of this permanent status quo to jump into the water, much to the surprise of the distracted mortal, who, inside the carriage , dozes or philosophizes about the progress of the century. The house we are referring to is somewhat low and of not very correct lines: whether the architect who built it did not see well, or whether this was the effect of earthquakes and hurricanes, no one can say with certainty. A wide staircase with green balusters and carpeted in places leads from the tiled entrance hall or porch to the main floor, amid flowerpots and flower pots on pedestals of Chinese tiles in variegated colors and fantastic designs. Since there are no doormen or servants to ask for or inquire about the invitation, we will go up, oh you who read me, friend or foe! If you are attracted by the chords of the orchestra, the light , or the meaningful clatter of the crockery and cutlery, and you want to see what the gatherings are like there in the Pearl of the Orient. I would gladly, and for my own convenience, spare you the description of the house, but this is very important, for we mortals in general are like turtles: we are worth and are classified by our shells; for this and other qualities, the mortals of the Philippines are also like turtles. If we go up, we will suddenly find ourselves in a spacious room, called there a « fall, » I know not why, which tonight serves as a dining room as well as an orchestra hall. In the middle, a long table, profusely and luxuriously decorated, seems to wink at the crasher with sweet promises, and threaten the timid one. young, in the simple dalaga, with two mortal hours in the company of strangers, whose language and conversation usually have a very particular character. Contrasting with these earthly preparations are the motley paintings on the walls, representing religious subjects such as Purgatory, Hell, The Last Judgment, The Death of the Just, That of the Sinner, and in the background, imprisoned in a splendid and elegant Renaissance-style frame carved by Arevalo, a curious large canvas in which two old women can be seen… The inscription reads: Our Lady of Peace and Good Voyage, who is venerated in Antipolo, in the form of a beggar, visits the pious and famous Captain Ines in her illness. [1] The composition, if it does not reveal much taste or art, is, on the other hand, quite realistic: the sick woman already seems like a putrefying corpse because of the yellow and blue hues of her face; The vessels and other objects, that cortege of long illnesses, are reproduced so minutely that even their contents are visible . Contemplating these pictures, which excite the appetite and inspire bucolic ideas, one might think that the evil owner of the house knew very well the character of most of those who would sit at the table, and to veil his thoughts a little, he has hung from the ceiling beautiful Chinese lanterns, birdcage without birds, silvered glass spheres, red, green, and blue, withered air plants, dried and inflated fish, which they call small boats, etc., enclosing the whole on the side facing the river with whimsical wooden arches, half Chinese, half European, and revealing on a rooftop arbors and gazebos dimly lit by paper lanterns of all colors. Over there in the living room are those who are about to dine, amid colossal mirrors and glittering chandeliers. Over there, on a pine platform, is the magnificent grand piano, exorbitantly priced, and even more precious tonight because no one is playing it. Over there is a large oil portrait of a handsome man in a tailcoat, stiff, straight, symmetrical like the tasseled cane he carries between his stiff, ring-covered fingers. The portrait seems to be saying: « Ahem! Look at all the clothes I’m wearing and how serious I am! » The furniture is elegant, perhaps uncomfortable and unhealthy: the master of the house wouldn’t be thinking about the hygiene of his guests, but about luxury itself. « Dysentery is a terrible thing, but you sit in European armchairs, and you don’t always have that! » he would tell them. The living room is almost full of people: the men are separated from the women, as in Catholic churches and synagogues. They are a few young women, among the Filipinos and the Spanish: they open their mouths to stifle a yawn, but immediately cover them with their fans; they barely murmur a few words; any conversation that ventures on them dies in monosyllables, like those noises heard at night in a house, noises caused by mice and lizards. Is it perhaps the images of various Our Ladies hanging on the walls that oblige them to maintain silence and religious composure, or are the women here an exception? The only one who received the ladies was the old woman, a cousin of Captain Tiago, with kindly features and who spoke Spanish rather poorly. Her entire policy and urbanity consisted of offering the Spanish women a tray of cigars and buyos [2], and in giving the Filipinos their hands to kiss , exactly like the friars. The poor old woman finally grew bored and, taking advantage of the sound of a plate breaking, rushed out, muttering, « Jesus! Wait, you unworthy people! » And she didn’t appear again. As for the men, they were already making more noise. Some cadets were talking animatedly, but in low voices, in one of the corners, occasionally looking and sometimes pointing at various people in the room; and they were laughing among themselves more or less secretly. On the other hand, two foreigners, dressed in white, with their hands clasped behind them and without saying a word, were pacing from one end of the room to the other with long strides, like bored passengers do on the deck of a ship. All the interest and the greater animation They were part of a group formed by two religious men, two countrymen, and a soldier around a small table on which bottles of wine and English biscuits could be seen. The soldier was a tall old lieutenant with a stern countenance; he looked like a Duke of Alba, a laggard in the Civil Guard ranks; he spoke little, but harshly and briefly. One of the friars, a young Dominican, handsome, neat, and brilliant like his gold-framed glasses, had a precocious gravitas: he was the priest of Binondo, and in earlier years had been a professor at San Juan de Letrán. He had a reputation as an accomplished dialectician, so much so that in the days when the sons of Guzmán still dared to fight in subtleties like the laity, the skillful debater B. de Luna had never been able to embroil or ensnare him: Fray Sibyla’s distinctions left him like a fisherman trying to catch eels with nets. The Dominican spoke little and seemed to weigh his words. On the contrary, the other, a Franciscan, spoke a lot and gesticulated more. Although his hair was beginning to turn gray, his robust nature seemed to be well preserved. His correct features, his unreasonable gaze, his broad jaw and Herculean form gave him the appearance of a disguised Roman patrician, and, unwittingly, you will remember one of those three monks Heine speaks of in his Gods in Exile, who, around the September Equinox, there in the Tyrol, would cross a lake in a boat at midnight , and each time they would place in the hand of the poor boatman a silver coin, as cold as ice, which filled him with terror. However, Friar Damasus was not mysterious like those; He was cheerful, and if the tone of his voice was gruff like that of a man who has never held his tongue, who believes everything he says to be holy and unbeatable, his cheerful and frank laugh erased this unpleasant impression, and one was even forced to forgive him for showing in the hall his sockless feet and hairy legs, which would have made the fortune of a Mendieta at the fairs of Quiapo [3]. One of the countrymen, a tiny man with a black beard, was notable only for his nose, which, judging by its size, could not have been his; the other, a blond young man, seemed to have recently arrived in the country; with him the Franciscan was carrying on a lively discussion. « You’ll see, » said the friar; « if he stays in the country for a few months, he will be convinced of what I am telling you: it is one thing to govern in Madrid and quite another to be in the Philippines. » –But… –I, for example,–continued Fray Dámaso, raising his voice so as not to let the other have the floor,–I, who have been growing bananas and morisqueta [4] for twenty-three years, can speak with authority on this matter. Don’t come at me with theories or rhetoric; I know the indigenous person. Tell me that from the moment I arrived in the country, I was assigned to a town, small, it’s true, but very dedicated to agriculture. I still didn’t know Tagalog very well, but I could already hear the women’s confessions, and we understood each other, and they grew to love me so much that, three years later, when they transferred me to another, larger town, a vacant one due to the death of the priest, an indigenous person, they all began to cry, showered me with gifts, and accompanied me with music… –But that only proves… –Wait, wait! Don’t be so clever! The one who succeeded me stayed less time, and when he left, he had more accompaniment, more tears , and more music, even though he was more popular and had raised the parish fees almost double. « But you will allow me…  » « Even longer; I have been in the town of San Diego for twenty years, and I only left it a few months ago (here he seemed to get upset). Twenty years, no one can deny it, are more than enough to get to know a town. San Diego had six thousand souls, and I knew every inhabitant as if I had given birth and breastfed them: I knew which foot this one limped on, where the shoe pinched that one, who was making love to that girl, what indiscretions this one had had and with whom, who the boy’s real father was, etc., as if I confessed everything; they were careful not to fail in their duty. Tell me, if I’m lying, Santiago, the owner of the house; he has a lot of land there, and that’s where we made our friends. Well, you’ll see what an indigenous person is like; when I left, only a few old women and some third brothers accompanied me, and I’ve been here for twenty years! « But I don’t see that this has anything to do with the tobacco embargo , » replied the blond man, taking advantage of a pause while the Franciscan took a small glass of sherry. Fray Dámaso, filled with surprise, almost dropped the glass. He stared at the young man for a moment. « How? How? » he then exclaimed, with the utmost astonishment. « But is it possible that you don’t see that which is as clear as day? Don’t you see, Son of God, that all this clearly proves that the ministers ‘ reforms are irrational?  » This time it was the blond man who was perplexed; the lieutenant furrowed his eyebrows even more; The tiny man shook his head as if to agree with Friar Dámaso or deny it. The Dominican contented himself with almost turning his back on them all. « Do you believe? » the young man was finally able to ask, very seriously, looking curiously at the friar. « Do I believe? Just like in the Gospel! The indigenous person is so indolent!  » « Ah! Excuse me for interrupting you, » said the young man, lowering his voice and moving his chair a little closer. « You have uttered a word that has caught my attention: does such indolence truly exist, native , or is it, according to a foreign traveler, that with this indolence we excuse our own, our backwardness, and our colonial system? He was speaking of other colonies whose inhabitants are of the same race…  » « Wow! Envy! Ask Mr. Laruja, who also knows the country; ask him if the ignorance and indolence of the indigenous person are equal! » « Indeed, » replied the little man, who was the one alluded to,  » nowhere in the world can you see another more indolent than an indigenous person, nowhere in the world!  » « Nor anyone more vicious, nor more ungrateful!  » « Nor anyone more ill-mannered! » The blond young man began to look around uneasily. « Gentlemen, » he said in a low voice, « I believe we are in the house of an indigenous person; those young ladies…  » « Bah! Don’t be so apprehensive! Santiago does not consider himself an indigenous person, and besides, he is not present, and… even if he were! That is just the nonsense of newcomers. Let a few months go by; you will change your mind when you have attended many parties and dances [5], slept on cots, and eaten much tinola.  » « Is what you call tinola a fruit of the lotus species that makes men… well… forgetful? » « What lottery or lottery! » replied Father Dámaso, laughing.  » You’re playing the bass drum. Tinola is a gourd [6] of a hen and a pumpkin. How long have you been here?  » « Four days, » exclaimed the young man, somewhat irritated. « Are you here as an employee?  » « No, sir: I’ve come on my own to see the country.  » « Man, what a strange bird! » exclaimed Brother Dámaso, looking at him curiously. « Coming on my own account and for no reason! What a phenomenon! Having so many books… with half a brain … many have written such great books! With half a brain…  » « Your Reverence was saying, Father Dámaso, » the Dominican interrupted abruptly, cutting short the conversation, « that Your Reverence has been in the town of San Diego for twenty years and has left… Wasn’t Your Reverence happy with the town? » At this question, asked in such a natural and almost negligent tone, Brother Damaso suddenly lost his cheerfulness and stopped laughing. « No! » he growled sharply, and sank violently back into his chair. The Dominican continued in an even more indifferent tone: « It must be painful to leave a town where one has been for twenty years, and which is known as the habit one wears. I, at least, was sorry to leave Camiling, and I was there only a few months… but the superiors did it for the good of the Community… for my good. » For the first time that evening, Brother Damaso seemed very worried. Suddenly , he slammed his fist on the arm of his chair and, breathing heavily, exclaimed: « Either there is religion or there isn’t! That is, either the priests are free or they aren’t! The country is lost, it’s lost! » And he slammed his fist again. The entire room, surprised, turned toward the group: the Dominican raised his head to look at him from under his glasses. The two foreigners who were strolling by stopped for a moment, looked at each other, showed their front teeth a bit, and then continued their pacing. « He’s in a bad mood because you treated him with reverence! » Mr. Laruja murmured in the blond young man’s ear. « What do you mean by Your Reverence? What’s the matter? » asked the Dominican and the lieutenant in different tones of voice. « That’s why so many calamities come! » “The rulers support the heretics against the ministers of God!” continued the Franciscan, raising his sturdy fists. “What do you mean?” asked the frowning lieutenant again, half rising. “What do I mean?” repeated Fray Dámaso, raising his voice even more and confronting the lieutenant. “I say what I mean! I, I mean that when the priest throws the corpse of a heretic out of his cemetery, no one, not even the king himself, has the right to interfere, much less to impose punishments. So a little general, a little general Calamity [7]… ” “Father, Your Excellency is Vice Royal Patron!” shouted the soldier, rising. “What Excellency, or what Vice Royal Patron!” replied the Franciscan, also rising. “In the past, he would have been dragged down the stairs, as the Corporations once did with the impious Governor Bustamante.” Those were times of faith! « I warn you that I do not allow it… Your Excellency represents His Excellency!  » « What king or what Roque! For us, there is no king but the legitimate one…  » « Stop! » shouted the lieutenant threateningly, as if addressing his soldiers; « either take back everything you have said or tomorrow I will report to Your Excellency…  » « Go right now, go! » replied Friar Dámaso sarcastically , approaching him with his fists clenched. « Do you think that because I wear the habit, I am missing them?… Go ahead, I’ll still lend you my carriage!  » The matter was taking a comical turn, but fortunately the Dominican intervened. « Gentlemen! » he said in a tone of authority and with that nasal voice that so well suits friars, « let’s not confuse things or look for offenses where there are none. » We must distinguish in Fray Dámaso’s words those of a man from those of a priest. The latter’s, as such, per se, can never offend, for they come from absolute truth. In the words of a man, a subdistinction must be made: those he says ab irato, those he says ex ore but not in corde, and those he says in corde. These last are the ones that can only offend, and that depends on whether they already existed in mind for a reason, or only come per accidens in the heat of conversation, if there is… « Well, I know the reasons by accidens and by myself, Father Sibyla! » interrupted the soldier who was getting entangled in so many distinctions and feared that if these continued, he would still not be found guilty. « I know the reasons, and Your Grace will distinguish them. During Father Dámaso’s absence in San Diego, the assistant buried the body of a very worthy person… yes, sir, very worthy; I have met him several times and have stayed at his house. That he has never confessed, so what? I don’t confess either; but to say that he committed suicide is a lie, a slander. A man like him, who has a son in whom he places his affection and his hopes, a man who has faith in God, who knows his duties to society, an honorable and just man does not commit suicide. I say this, and I will not say anything else here. And thank me, Your Honor. And turning his back on the Franciscan, he continued: « Well, this priest, on his return to town, after mistreating the poor assistant, had the body dug up and taken out of the cemetery to be buried I don’t know where. The town of San Diego He had the cowardice not to protest; it is true that very few knew: the dead man had no relatives, and his only son is in Europe; but Your Excellency found out and, being a man of upright heart, he asked for punishment… and Father Dámaso was transferred to a better town. That’s all. Now make your distinctions. » And with that, he left the group. « I am very sorry to have unwittingly touched on such a delicate matter, » said Father Sibyla regretfully. « But, in the end, if there has been any gain in changing towns…  » « What is there to gain! And what is lost in the transfers… and the papers… and the… and everything that is lost? » Fra Dámaso interrupted, stammering, unable to contain his anger. Little by little the gathering returned to its former tranquility. Other people had arrived, among them an old, lame Spaniard with a sweet and harmless face, leaning on the arm of an old Filipino woman, full of curls and makeup and dressed in European style. The group greeted them in a friendly manner; Dr. de Espadaña and his wife, Dr. Doña Victorina, sat among our acquaintances. Some journalists and grocers could be seen greeting each other, wandering around without knowing what to do. « But can you tell me, Señor Laruja, what is the owner of the house like? » asked the blond young man. « I haven’t been introduced yet.  » « They say he’s gone out; I haven’t seen him either.  » « There’s no need for introductions here! » Fray Dámaso intervened. « Santiago is a man of good means.  » « A man who didn’t invent gunpowder, » Laruja added. « You too, Señor de Laruja! » exclaimed Doña Victorina with sweet reproach , fanning herself. « How could the poor fellow invent gunpowder, if, as they say, it had already been invented by Chinese people centuries ago?  » « Chinese people? Are you mad? » exclaimed Friar Dámaso. « Get away from it! It was invented by a Franciscan, one of my order, Friar Savalls I don’t know how many times in the seventh century!  » « A Franciscan! » « Well, he must have been a missionary in China, that Father Savalls, » replied the lady, who did not abandon her thoughts like that. « You mean Schwartz, madam, » replied Friar Sibyla without looking at her. « I don’t know; Friar Dámaso said Savalls: I only repeat myself!  » « Good! Savalls or Chevás, what does it matter? » « A letter doesn’t make a person Chinese! » the Franciscan retorted sulkily. « And in the fourteenth century, not the seventh, » the Dominican added in a corrective tone, as if to mortify the other’s pride. « Well, a century more or a century less doesn’t make you a Dominican either!  » « Well, don’t get angry, Your Honor! » said Father Sibyla, smiling. « So much the better that he invented it; that way he’s saved his brothers the trouble.  » « And you say, Father Sibyla, that this was in the fourteenth century? » Dona Victorina asked with great interest; « before or after Christ? » Fortunately for the person being questioned, two people entered the room. Chapter 2. CHRISÓSTOMO IBARRA. They were not beautiful, well-dressed young women who attracted everyone’s attention , even Brother Sibyla’s; It wasn’t His Excellency the Captain General with his aides, who would bring the lieutenant out of his reverie, take a few steps forward, and leave Brother Dámaso frozen as if petrified: it was simply the original portrait in tails, leading by the hand a young man dressed in strict mourning. « Good evening, gentlemen! Good evening, Father! » was the first thing Colonel Tiago said, kissing the hands of the priests who had forgotten to give the blessing. The Dominican had taken off his glasses to look at the young man who had just arrived, and Brother Dámaso went pale and with wide eyes . « I have the honor to present to you Don Crisóstomo Ibarra, son of my late friend! » continued Colonel Tiago; « this gentleman has just arrived from Europe, and I have gone to greet him. » At this name, a few exclamations were heard; the lieutenant forgot to greet the owner of the house; He approached the young man and examined him from head to toe. He then exchanged his usual remarks with the whole group, and did not seem to present anything unusual except his black person suit in the middle of that room. His towering height, his features, his movements, nevertheless, breathed that perfume of a healthy youth in which both body and soul have been cultivated simultaneously . On his face, frank and cheerful, some slight traces of Spanish blood could be seen through a beautiful personal complexion, a touch of rosiness in the cheeks, perhaps the effect of his time in cold countries. « Shut up! » he exclaimed with joyful surprise. « The priest of my town! Father Dámaso, my father’s close friend!  » All eyes turned to the Franciscan; he did not move. « Excuse me, I was mistaken! » Ibarra added, confused. « You were not mistaken! » he finally managed to answer in a strained voice. « But your father was never a close friend of mine. » Ibarra slowly withdrew the hand he had extended, looking at him in surprise, turned, and found himself staring at the lieutenant’s stern figure. « Young man, are you the son of Don Rafael Ibarra? » The young man bowed. Fray Dámaso sat up in his chair and stared at the lieutenant. « Welcome to your country, and may you be happier there than your father! » exclaimed the soldier in a trembling voice. « I have known and treated him, and I can say that he was one of the most worthy and honorable men in the Philippines.  » « Sir! » replied Ibarra, moved. « Your praise of my father dispels my doubts about his fate, which I, his son, still have no doubts about. » The old man’s eyes filled with tears, and he turned and walked hurriedly away. The young man found himself alone in the middle of the room. The master of the house had disappeared, and he could find no one to introduce him to the young ladies, many of whom were looking at him with interest. After hesitating for a few seconds, with simple and natural grace, he addressed them: « Allow me, » he said, « to disregard the rules of rigorous etiquette. I have been away from my country for seven years, and upon returning, I cannot contain my admiration and fail to greet its most precious adornment, its women. » As no one dared to reply, the young man was forced to withdraw. He addressed the group of some gentlemen who, upon seeing him approaching, formed a semicircle. « Gentlemen! » he said; « there is a custom in Germany that when a stranger comes to a party and cannot find anyone to introduce him to the others, he himself gives his name and introduces himself, to which the others reply in the same way.  » Allow me this custom, not to introduce foreign customs, for ours are also very beautiful, but because I feel obliged to do so. I have already greeted the heavens and the women of my homeland: now I wish to greet the citizens, my compatriots. Gentlemen, my name is Juan Crisóstomo Ibarra y Magsalin! The others gave their more or less insignificant, more or less unknown names. « My name is A… a! » said a young man curtly, bowing slightly. « May I perhaps have the honor of speaking with the poet whose works have sustained my enthusiasm for my homeland? They have told me that you no longer write, but they have not been able to explain why…  » « Why? Because inspiration is not invoked to drag itself along and lie. Someone has been prosecuted for having put into verse a truism from Pero Grullo. They have called me a poet, but they will not call me crazy. » « And may I ask what truth that was? » He said that the son of the lion was also a lion; he was almost exiled. And the strange young man left the group. Almost running, a man with a smiling countenance arrived, dressed like the natives of the country, with brilliant buttons on his shirtfront. He approached Ibarra, shook his hand, and said: « Mr. Ibarra, I wanted to meet you. Capt. Tiago is a very good friend of mine, I knew your father… My name is Capt. Tinong, I live in Tondo, where you have your house; I hope you will honor me with your visit; come and dine with us tomorrow. » Ibarra was delighted with such kindness; Capt. Tinong smiled and rubbed his hands. « Thank you! » he replied affectionately, « but I’m leaving tomorrow for San Diego… —Too bad! Then it will be for when you return! —The table is set!—announced a waiter at the Campana café. The people began to file in, not without much urging from the women, especially the Filipinos. Chapter 3. DINNER Jele Jele bago quiere [9] Friar Sibyla seemed very satisfied: he walked calmly and his contracted, fine lips no longer reflected disdain; he even deigned to speak to the lame doctor from Espadaña, who answered in monosyllables, for he was something of a stutterer. The Franciscan was in a terrible mood, kicked the chairs that obstructed his path and even elbowed a cadet. The lieutenant was serious; the others spoke with great animation and praised the magnificence of the table. Doña Victorina, however, wrinkled her nose in contempt, but immediately turned around, as furious as a trampled snake: indeed , the lieutenant had put his foot on the train of her dress. « But don’t you have eyes? » she said. « Yes, madam, and two better ones than yours; but I was looking at those curls, » replied the ungallant soldier, and walked away. Instinctively, the two religious men went to the head of the table, perhaps out of habit, and as was to be expected, what happened with candidates for a chair happened: they praise the merits and superiority of their adversaries with words , but then imply the exact opposite, and grunt and murmur when they don’t obtain it. « For you, Brother Dámaso!  » « For you, Brother Sibyla!  » « Oldest acquaintance in the house… confessor of the deceased… age, dignity, and government…  » « Not very old, let’s say! » « On the other hand, you are the priest of the suburb! » replied Friar Dámaso in a sour tone, without letting go of the chair. « As you command, I obey! » concluded Father Sibyla, preparing to sit down. « I do not command! » protested the Franciscan; « I do not command! » Friar Sibyla was about to sit down, ignoring the protests, when his eyes met those of the lieutenant. The highest officer is, according to religious opinion in the Philippines, far inferior to the lay cook. Cedant arma togæ, said Cicero in the Senate; cedant arma cottæ, the friars say in the Philippines. But Friar Sibyla was a refined person and replied: « Lieutenant, we are here in the world and not in the church; the seat belongs to him.  » But, judging by the tone of his voice, even in the world it belonged to him. The lieutenant, either to avoid being bothered or to avoid sitting between two friars, briefly declined. None of the candidates had remembered the owner of the house. Ibarra saw him contemplating the scene with satisfaction and smiling. « What, Don Santiago! Aren’t you sitting among us? » But all the seats were already occupied: Lucullus didn’t eat at Lucullus’s house.
« Hush! Don’t get up! » said Capt. Tiago, placing his hand on the young man’s shoulder. « This feast is precisely to give thanks to the Virgin for your arrival. Oy! Bring the tinola. I ordered tinola to be made for you, it’s been a while since you ‘ve tasted it. » A large, steaming basin was brought in. The Dominican, after murmuring the « Benedicite, » to which almost no one knew how to respond, began to distribute the contents. But whether through carelessness or something else, Father Dámaso ended up with the plate containing a bare neck and a tough chicken wing swimming amidst the squash and broth, while the others ate legs and breasts, especially Ibarra, who was left with the giblets. The Franciscan saw everything, mashed the zucchini, took a little broth, dropped the spoon with a clatter, and abruptly pushed the plate forward. The Dominican was very distracted, talking with the blond young man. « How long have you been missing from the country? » Laruja asked Ibarra. « Almost seven years.  » « Come on, you’ve probably forgotten about him! » « Quite the contrary: and although my country seemed to have forgotten me, I’ve always thought about him.  » « What do you mean? » asked the blond man. « I wanted to say that a year ago I stopped receiving news from here, so much so that I feel like a stranger, not even knowing when or how your father died.  » « Ah! » exclaimed the lieutenant. « And where were you that you haven’t telegraphed? » asked Doña Victorina. « When we were married, we telegraphed to the Peninsula [10]. « Madam, these last two years I was in the north of Europe: in Germany and in Russian Poland.  » Doctor de Espadaña, who until now had not dared to speak, thought it advisable to say something. « W… I knew in Spain a Pole from Warsaw, named Stadnitzki, if I remember correctly; have you seen him by chance? » he asked timidly, almost blushing. « It’s quite possible, » Ibarra answered kindly; « but at this moment I don’t remember. » « Well, you couldn’t mistake him for anyone else! » added the doctor, who had regained his composure. He was blond as gold and spoke Spanish very poorly. « They’re good signs, but unfortunately I haven’t spoken a word of Spanish there except in a few consulates.  » « And how did you manage? » asked Doña Victorina, amazed. « I used the language of the country, madam.  » « Do you also speak English? » asked the Dominican, who had been to Hong Kong and spoke Pidgin English well, [11] that adulteration of Shakespeare’s language by the children of the Celestial Empire. « I spent a year in England among people who only spoke English.  » « And what is the country you like most in Europe? » asked the blond young man. « After Spain, my second homeland, any country in free Europe.  » « And you, who seem to have traveled so much… well, what is the most remarkable thing you have seen? » asked Laruja. Ibarra seemed to reflect. –Notable in what sense? –For example….. regarding the life of the people….. social, political, religious life, in general, in essence, in the whole… Ibarra began to meditate for a long time. –Frankly, I like everything about those people, apart from the national pride of each one… Before visiting a country, I tried to study its history, its Exodus, if I may say so, and then I found everything natural; I have always seen that the prosperity or misery of peoples is in direct proportion to their liberties or concerns, and consequently, to the sacrifices or selfishness of their ancestors. –And haven’t you seen more than that?–asked the Franciscan with a mocking laugh, who hadn’t said a single word since the beginning of dinner , perhaps distracted by the food; –it wasn’t worth wasting your fortune to know so little: any school smock [12] knows that! Ibarra was at a loss for words. The others, surprised, looked from one to the other, fearing a scandal. « Dinner is drawing to a close, and Sir Thomas is already fed up, » the young man was about to say, but he checked himself and only said the following: « Gentlemen, do not be surprised at the familiarity with which our old priest treats me; that is how he treated me when I was a child, for for Sir Thomas the years pass in vain; but I am grateful to you because it reminds me of those days when Sir Thomas frequently visited our house and graced my father’s table. » The Dominican glanced furtively at the Franciscan, who had begun to tremble. Ibarra continued, rising: « You will allow me to retire, because, having just arrived and having to leave tomorrow, I have much business to clear up. The main part of dinner is over, and I drink little wine and barely touch any liquor. Gentlemen, everything for Spain and the Philippines! » And he drained a small glass, which he had not touched until then. The old lieutenant imitated him, but without saying a word. « Don’t go! » Captain Tiago was saying to him in a low voice.  » María Clara will arrive: Isabel has gone to get her out. The new priest from your town will come, he’s a saint.  » « I’ll come tomorrow before I leave! Today I have a very important visit to make. » And he left. Meanwhile, the Franciscan was unburdening himself. « Have you seen him? » he said to the blond young man, gesturing with his hand. Dessert knife. « That’s out of pride! They can’t tolerate the priest reprimanding them! They already think they’re decent people! It’s the bad consequence of sending young people to Europe. The government should have banned it .  » « And the lieutenant? » said Doña Victorina, joining in the Franciscan’s echo. « He hasn’t lifted his brow all night; he did well to leave us. So old and yet he’s still a lieutenant!  » The lady couldn’t forget the allusion to her curls and the trampled tufting of her petticoats. That night the blond young man was writing, among other things, the following chapter of his Colonial Studies: « How a chicken’s neck and wing in a friar’s plate of tinola can disturb the joy of a feast. » And among his observations were these: « In the Philippines, the most useless person at a dinner or party is the one who gives it: they can start by throwing the owner of the house out into the street and everything will continue peacefully.  » In the present state of things, it is almost doing them a favor not to allow the Filipinos to leave their country, nor to teach them to read… Chapter 4. HERETIC AND FILIBUSTER. Ibarra was undecided. The night wind, which in those months is usually quite fresh in Manila, seemed to erase from his brow the light cloud that had obscured it; he uncovered his head and breathed. Carriages flashed by, rented carriages at a sluggish pace, passers-by of different nationalities. With that uneven gait that makes one familiar with the distracted or the idle, the young man headed toward the plaza of Binondo [13], looking everywhere as if he wanted to recognize something. They were the same streets with the same houses painted in white and blue, and walls whitewashed or frescoed in a poor imitation of granite; the church tower still displayed its clock with its translucent face; They were the same Chinese-owned shops with their dirty curtains and iron bars, one of which he had twisted one night, imitating the ill-mannered boys of Manila; no one had straightened it. « It’s going slowly! » he murmured, and continued along Sacristy Street. The sherbet vendors were still shouting, « Sorbet! » The lamps or lanterns still lit up the same stalls of Chinese women and men selling food and fruit. « It’s marvelous! » he exclaimed. « It’s the same Chinese man from seven years ago, and the old woman… the same one! You’d say last night I dreamed of seven years of traveling in Europe!… and, good God! The stone is still as disarrayed as when I left it. In fact, the stone of the sidewalk that forms the corner of San Jacinto Street and Sacristy Street was still loose. As he contemplated this marvel of urban stability in the land of instability, a hand gently rested on his shoulder. He raised his face and found himself staring at him, almost smiling. The soldier no longer had that harsh expression and those furrowed brows that characterized him so much. « Young man, be careful! Learn from your father! » he said. « Forgive me, but it seems to me that you loved my father very much. Could you tell me what his fate was? » Ibarra asked, looking at him. « What, you don’t know? » the soldier asked. « I asked Don Santiago, but he didn’t promise to tell me until tomorrow. Do you happen to know?  » « I certainly do, like everyone else! He died in prison.  » The young man took a step back and stared at the lieutenant. « In prison? Who died in prison? » he asked. « Well, your father, he was in prison! » the soldier replied, somewhat surprised. « My father… in jail… imprisoned in jail? What are you saying? Do you know who my father was? Are you in? » the young man asked, taking the soldier’s arm. « I don’t think I’m mistaken; it was Don Rafael Ibarra.  » « Yes, Don Rafael Ibarra! » the young man repeated weakly. « Well, I thought you knew! » the soldier murmured, his voice full of compassion, reading what was going on in Ibarra’s soul. « I supposed that you… but take courage! You can’t be here. » honorable without having gone to jail! « I must believe you’re not playing with me, » Ibarra replied in a weak voice, after a few moments of silence. « Could you tell me why you were in jail? » The old man seemed to reflect. « I find it very strange that they haven’t informed you of your family’s business.  » « Your last letter, a year ago, told me not to worry if you didn’t write to me, as you would be very busy; you recommended that I continue studying… you blessed me!  » « Well, then, he wrote that letter to you before he died: it will soon be a year since we buried him in your town.  » « For what reason was my father imprisoned?  » « For a very honorable reason. But follow me, I have to go to the barracks; I’ll tell you while walking. Lean on my arm. » They walked for some time in silence: the old man seemed to reflect and ask for inspiration from the beard he was stroking. « As you know very well, » he began, « your father was the richest man in the province, and although he was loved and respected by many, others hated or envied him. We Spaniards who come to the Philippines are unfortunately not what we should have been: I say this as much for one of your grandfathers as for your father’s enemies. The constant changes, the demoralization of the upper echelons, favoritism, the cheapness and shortness of the voyage are to blame for everything: the most lost of the Peninsula come here, and if a good one arrives, he soon corrupts the country. Well, your father had many enemies among the priests and the Spaniards. » Here he paused briefly. « Months after your departure, the disagreements with Father Dámaso began, without me being able to explain the true reason. Brother Dámaso accused him of not going to confession: before, he didn’t go to confession either, and yet they were very close friends, as you will still remember. » Besides, Don Rafael was a very honorable man, and more just than many who confess and keep confessing. He held himself to a very rigid moral code, and he used to say to me when he spoke to me about these unpleasantries: « Mr. Guevara, do you believe that God forgives a crime, a murder, for example, simply by telling it to a priest, a man who, after all, has the duty to keep quiet and fear burning in hell, which is the act of attrition? By being a coward, shameless for sure? I have a different idea of ​​God, » he said.  » For me, you don’t correct an evil with another evil, nor is it forgiven with vain whining, nor with alms to the Church. » And he gave me this example: if I have murdered the father of a family, if I have made a woman an unhappy widow, and some happy children helpless orphans, will I have satisfied eternal Justice by letting myself be hanged, by entrusting the secret to someone who will keep it for me, by giving alms to the priests who need it least, by buying the papal bull of composition, or by whining night and day? And the widow and the orphans? My conscience tells me that I must replace, as far as possible, the person I murdered, devote my entire life to the good of this family whose misfortune I have made, and even then, who can replace the love of a husband and a father? This is how your father reasoned about you, and he always acted with this severe morality, and it may be said that he has never offended anyone. On the contrary, he tried to erase with good works certain injustices that he said his grandparents had committed. But returning to his disagreements with the priest, they took a bad temper. Father Dámaso alluded to him from the pulpit, and if he didn’t name him clearly it was a miracle, because with his character anything could be expected. I foresaw that sooner or later things were going to end badly. The old lieutenant paused again briefly. « A former artilleryman was then traveling through your province, thrown out of the ranks for being too stupid and ignorant… Since the man had to live, and wasn’t allowed to engage in physical labor that might damage our prestige, he obtained from I don’t know who the job of collecting taxes on vehicles. The unfortunate man had received no education, and the indigenous people knew him very quickly: for them, a Spaniard who can’t read or write is a phenomenon. Everything was mocking the wretch, who shamefully paid the tax he collected, and knew he was the object of ridicule, which further soured his already rude and evil character. They intentionally gave him the writing backward; he pretended to read it and signed where he saw white with some scribbles that properly represented him. The indigenous people paid, but they mocked him; he gulped, but collected, and in this frame of mind he respected no one, and with your father he had even exchanged some very harsh words. It happened that one day, while he was turning over a piece of paper that had been given to him in a store, wanting to put it right side up, a boy from the school began to make signs to his classmates, laugh, and point at him with his finger. The man heard the laughter and saw the mockery playing on the serious faces of those present; He lost his patience, turned quickly, and began chasing the boys, who ran shouting: ba, bee, bi, bo, bu. Blinded by rage and unable to catch them , he threw his stick, striking one of them in the head and knocking him down. He then ran toward him, kicked him, and none of those present who were jeering had the courage to intervene. Unfortunately , his father was passing by; indignant, he ran up to the collector, grabbed him by the arm, and harshly rebuked him. The latter, who undoubtedly saw red, raised his hand, but his father didn’t give him time, and with that strength that betrays the grandson of the Basques… some say he hit him, others that he contented himself with pushing him; the fact is that the man faltered, fell a few steps away, hitting his head against a stone. Don Rafael calmly picked up the wounded boy and took him to the tribunal. The former artilleryman spurted blood and never recovered, dying a few minutes later. Naturally, justice intervened, your father was arrested, and all his hidden enemies then rose up . Slander rained down; he was accused of being a filibuster and a heretic. Being a heretic is a great disgrace everywhere, especially at that time, when the province had as mayor a man who boasted of devotion, who with his servants would pray the rosary aloud in church , perhaps so that everyone could hear him and pray with him. But being a filibuster is worse than being a heretic and killing three tax collectors who know how to read, write, and distinguish. Everyone abandoned him; his papers and books were collected. He was accused of subscribing to El Correo de Ultramar and Madrid newspapers, of having sent you to German-speaking Switzerland, of having been found with letters and the portrait of an executed priest, and what else do I know? Accusations were made of everything, even his shirt, even though he was a descendant of peninsular descendants. Had it been someone else, your father might have been released sooner, for a doctor attributed the unfortunate tax collector’s death to congestion; but his fortune, his faith in justice, and his hatred of anything that was neither legal nor just, brought him down. I myself, despite my reluctance to implore anyone’s favor, presented myself to the Captain General, our predecessor . I made it clear to him that no one could be a filibuster who welcomes every Spaniard, poor or immigrant, giving them shelter and food, and in whose veins the generous Spanish blood still boils. In vain I responded with my head, swore on my poverty and my military honor, and only managed to be poorly received, even worse dismissed, and nicknamed a lunatic. The old man paused to take a breath, and seeing the silence of his companion, who listened without looking at him, continued: « I conducted the proceedings for the lawsuit on behalf of your father. » I went to the famous Filipino lawyer, young A, but he refused to take on the case. « I would lose it, » he told me. My defense would be a reason for new accusations against him and perhaps against me. Go to Mr. M, who is a vehement orator, easy to speak, a peninsular native, and who enjoys a great deal of prestige. So I did, and the famous lawyer took charge of the case, which he defended with mastery and brilliance. But the enemies were many, some hidden and unknown. False witnesses abounded, and their slanders, which would have been discredited elsewhere, Dissipated by an ironic or sarcastic remark from the defense attorney, they took shape and substance. If the lawyer managed to nullify them by setting them at odds with each other and with themselves, other accusations soon arose. They accused him of having unjustly seized many plots of land; they demanded damages; they said he maintained relations with the tulisanes so that their crops and animals would be respected. Finally, the matter became so entangled that after a year, no one understood each other. The mayor had to leave his post; another one came who had a reputation for integrity, but this one, unfortunately, barely stayed for a few months; and the one who succeeded him loved good horses too much. The suffering, the disappointments, the inconveniences of imprisonment, or the pain of seeing so many ingrates, altered his iron health, and he fell ill with that ailment that only the grave cures. And when it was all about to end, when he was about to be acquitted of the charge of being an enemy of the Fatherland and of the death of the tax collector, he died in prison without anyone at his side. I arrived to see him expire. The old man fell silent; Ibarra didn’t say a single word. In the meantime, they had reached the barracks door. The soldier stopped and, extending his hand, said: « Young man, ask Captain Tiago for the details. Now, good night! You must see if anything new has happened. » Ibarra shook that gaunt hand effusively and in silence, and silently followed him with his eyes until he disappeared. He turned slowly and saw a carriage passing; he signaled to the coachman. « Lala’s Inn! » he said in a barely intelligible tone. « This one must be coming from the dungeon, » thought the coachman, giving his horses a whiplash . Chapter 5. A STAR IN A DARK NIGHT Ibarra went up to his room overlooking the river, and threw himself into an armchair, looking at the space that expanded in front of him, thanks to the open window. The house opposite, on the other bank, was profusely illuminated , and the cheerful strains of instruments, mostly stringed, reached him . Had the young man been less worried, had he been more curious and chosen to see with the aid of a pair of binoculars what was passing in that atmosphere of light, he would have admired one of those fantastic visions, one of those magical apparitions that are sometimes seen in the great theaters of Europe, in which, to the subdued melodies of an orchestra, a deity, a sylph, appears , in an oriental setting, wrapped in vaporous gauze, advancing almost without touching the ground, surrounded and accompanied by a luminous halo. At her presence , flowers spring up, dances frolic, harmonies are awakened, and choruses of devils, nymphs, satyrs, genii, maidens, angels, and shepherds dance, shake tambourines, perform feats, and place at the feet of the goddess. Each one a tribute. Ibarra would have seen a very beautiful, slender young woman, dressed in the picturesque costume of the Daughters of the Philippines, in the center of a semicircle formed by all kinds of people, gesticulating and moving animatedly: there were Chinese, Spanish, Filipino, military, priests, old, young, etc. Father Dámaso stood beside that beauty; Father Dámaso smiled like a blessed man; Brother Sibyla, Brother Sibyla himself, was speaking to him, and Doña Victorina arranged in the young woman’s magnificent hair a string of pearls and diamonds that reflected the most beautiful colors of the prism. She was white, perhaps too white; her eyes, which were almost always lowered, revealed a very pure soul when she raised them, and when she smiled and revealed her white, small teeth, one could say that a rose is simply a vegetable, and ivory, an elephant’s tusk. Between the transparent tissue of the pineapple [14] and around her white and shapely neck blinked, as the Tagalogs say, the cheerful eyes of a necklace of diamonds. Only one man did not seem to feel its luminous influence, so to speak: this was a young Franciscan, thin, gaunt, pale, who He gazed motionless, from afar, like a statue, hardly breathing. But Ibarra saw none of this: his eyes saw something else. Four bare, filthy walls enclosed a small space; high up in one of them was a grate; on the filthy, disgusting floor, a mat, and on the mat, an old man in his death throes. The old man, breathing with difficulty, looked in all directions and wept, calling out a name. The old man was alone; from time to time, the sound of a chain or a groan could be heard through the wall… and then, far away, a joyful feast, almost a bacchanal, a young man laughing, shouting, spilling wine on the flowers to the applause and the intoxicated laughter of the others. And the old man had his father’s features , the young man resembled him, and the name that the other man wept, calling out was his own! This was what the unfortunate man saw before him. The lights went out in the house across the street, the music and noise ceased, but Ibarra could still hear his father’s anguished cry, searching for a son in his final hour. Silence had breathed its hollow breath over Manila, and everything seemed to sleep in the arms of nothingness. The rooster’s crowing could be heard alternating with the clock towers and the melancholy cry of the bored sentry; a sliver of moonlight was beginning to peek out; everything seemed to rest; yes, Ibarra himself was sleeping now, perhaps tired from his sad thoughts or from the journey. But the young Franciscan, whom we had recently seen motionless and silent in the midst of the bustle of the room, wasn’t sleeping, he was watching. With his elbow on the windowsill of his cell, his pale and emaciated face resting on the palm of his hand, he silently gazed into the distance at a star shining in the dark sky. The star paled and was eclipsed, the moon lost its few glimmering gleams; but the friar did not move from his place: he gazed at the distant horizon that was lost in the morning mist, toward the Bagumbayan countryside, toward the still-sleeping sea. Chapter 6. CAPTAIN TIAGO. Thy will be done on earth! While our characters sleep or have breakfast, let us concern ourselves with Captain Tiago. We have never been his guest; therefore, we have neither the right nor the duty to despise him by ignoring him, even in important circumstances. Short in stature, light in complexion, round of body and face thanks to an abundance of fat, which, according to his admirers, came from heaven, from the blood of the poor according to his enemies, Captain Tiago appeared younger than he really was: one would have believed him to be thirty to thirty-five years old. The expression on his face was constantly beatific at the time to which our narrative refers . His skull, round, small, and covered with hair as black as ebony, long in front and very short in back, contained many things, they say, within its cavity; his eyes were small, but not slanted, and never changed expression; his nose was fine, not flat, and if his mouth had not been disfigured by the abuse of tobacco and buyo, whose sapá [15] meeting in one cheek altered the symmetry of his features, we would say that he did very well to believe himself and sell himself as a handsome man. Nevertheless, despite this abuse, he always kept his own teeth white and the two that the dentist lent him, at the rate of twelve duros. He was considered one of the richest landowners in Binondo and one of the most important landowners because of his lands in Pampanga and in Laguna de Bay, mainly in the town of San Diego, whose canon or rent increased every year. San Diego was his favorite town for its pleasant baths, famous cockpit [16] and the memories he retains of it: he spent at least two months of the year there. Captain Tiago had many farms in Santo Cristo, on Anloague Street and on Rosario Street; he and a Chinese person ran the opium trade , and it is idle to say that they made enormous profits. He supplied food to the prisoners of Bilibid, and grass [17] to many important houses. from Manila, through contracts, of course. On good terms with all authorities, skillful, flexible, and even bold when it came to speculating on the needs of others, he was the sole and fearsome rival of a certain Pérez in the leasing and auctioning of offices or jobs, which the Philippine government always entrusts to private hands. So, at the time of these events, Captain Tiago was a happy man, as far as a man of small mind can be happy in those lands; he was rich, he was at peace with God, with the government, and with men. That he was at peace with God was undeniable, almost dogmatic: there was no reason to be at odds with the good God when one is well off on earth, when one has never communicated with Him, nor lent Him money. He had never turned to Him in his prayers, not even in his greatest straits; he was rich, and his gold prayed for him; for masses and supplications, God had created powerful and haughty priests; For novenas and rosaries, God in his infinite goodness had created poor people for the good of the rich, poor people who for one peso are capable of praying sixteen mysteries and reading all the holy books, even the Hebrew Bible if the payment is increased; and if ever in great difficulty he needed heavenly aid and couldn’t find even a red Chinese candle at hand , he would turn to the saints he worshipped, promising them many things to oblige them and fully convince them of the goodness of his desires. But to whom he promised the most, and kept his promise, was the Virgin of Antipolo, Our Lady of Peace and Buenviaje, for with certain minor saints the man was neither very punctual nor decent. Sometimes, once he had obtained what he desired, he would not remember them again; it is true that he would not bother them again, if the opportunity presented itself. Captain Tiago knew that in the calendar there were many unoccupied saints, who perhaps had nothing to do up there in heaven. To the Virgin of Antipolo, moreover, he attributed greater power and efficacy than to all the other Virgins, whether they carried silver staffs, naked or clothed Infant Jesuses, or scapulars, rosaries , or thongs. Perhaps this is due to her reputation as a very severe lady, very careful with her name, an enemy of photography, according to the Chief Sacristan of Antipolo, and who, when angry, turns as black as ebony. And because the other Virgins are softer-hearted , more indulgent. It is well known that certain souls love an absolute king more than a constitutional one; Louis XIV and Louis XVI, Philip II and Amadeo I can tell you this. Perhaps for this reason, one also sees unfaithful Moors and even Spaniards kneeling in the famous sanctuary ; only it is not explained why the priests escape with the money from the terrible Image, go to America, and marry there. That door in the living room, hidden by a silk curtain, leads to a small chapel or oratory, which should be indispensable in any Filipino home. There are the household gods of Captain Tiago, and we say household gods because this gentleman was more in favor of polytheism than monotheism, which he had never understood. There are images of the Holy Family with ivory busts and limbs , crystal eyes, long eyelashes, and curly blond hair, exquisite sculptures of Santa Cruz. Oil paintings by the artists of Paco and Hermita depict martyrdoms of saints, miracles of the Virgin, etc .; Saint Lucy looking up to heaven and holding on a plate two other eyes with eyelashes and eyebrows, like those seen painted on the triangle of the Trinity or on Egyptian sarcophagi; Saint Pascual Baylon, Saint Anthony of Padua in a gingham habit [18], tearfully contemplating a Child Jesus dressed as a Captain General, with a tricorn hat, sabre and boots as in the children’s dance of Madrid: for Captain Tiago this meant that even if God added to his power that of a Captain General of the Philippines, the Franciscans would always play with him as with a doll. We also see a Saint Anthony the Abbot with a pig at his side, a pig that for the worthy captain was as miraculous as the saint himself, for which reason he did not dare to call him a pig, but a creature of the holy Lord Saint Anthony; a Saint Francis of Assisi with seven wings and a coffee-colored habit placed over a Saint Vincent who has only two, but instead carries a cornet; a Saint Peter the Martyr with his head split open by a criminal’s talibon [19], wielded by an infidel on his knees, next to a Saint Peter who is cutting off the ear of a Moor, Malchus without a doubt, who is biting his lips and writhing in pain, while a sasabungin rooster [20] crows and flaps its wings on a Doric column, from which Captain James deduced that to be a saint was to be divided as to be divided. Who can enumerate that army of images and describe the qualities and perfections treasured there? A chapter would not be enough! However, we will not pass over in silence a beautiful Saint Michael, made of gilded and painted wood, almost a meter high: the archangel, biting his lower lip, has glowing eyes, a wrinkled forehead, and rosy cheeks; he clutches a Greek shield and brandishes a Joloo-style kris in his right hand, ready to wound the devotee or anyone who approaches (as can be deduced from his attitude and gaze) rather than the horned, tailed demon sinking his fangs into his maiden leg. Captain Tiago never approached him, fearing a miracle. How many times has more than one image, no matter how poorly carved, like those that come out of the carpentry shops of Paete [21], come to life, to the confusion and punishment of unbelieving fishermen? It is said that a certain Christ of Spain, invoked as a witness to promises of love, nodded in agreement before the judge, that another Christ unnailed his right arm to embrace Saint Lutgard. So what? Hadn’t he read a little book, recently published about a mime sermon preached by an image of Saint Dominic in Soriano? The saint didn’t say a single word, but from his gestures it was deduced, or the author of the little book deduced, that he announced the end of the world. [22] Wasn’t it also said that the Virgin of Luta from the town of Lipa had one cheek more swollen than the other, and the edges of her dress were muddy? Doesn’t this prove mathematically that sacred images also go for walks without lifting their dresses and even suffer toothaches , perhaps because of us? Hadn’t he seen with his own eyes all the Christs in the sermon on the Seven Words move and bow their heads in time three times, provoking the weeping and screaming of all the women and sensitive souls destined for heaven? More? We ourselves have seen the preacher show the public, at the moment of the descent from the cross, a handkerchief stained with blood, and we were about to weep piously, when, to our souls’ misfortune, a sacristan assured us that it was a joke: it was the blood of a hen, roasted and eaten incontinenti despite it being Good Friday… and the sacristan was fat. Captain Tiago, then, being a prudent and religious man, avoids approaching the Christ of Saint Michael. « Let’s avoid occasions! » he said to himself; I know he’s an archangel, but no, I don’t trust it, I don’t trust it! » Not a year went by without him attending the opulent Antipolo pilgrimage with an orchestra . He then paid for two of the many grace masses that make up the three novenas and the other days when there are no novenas, and then bathed in the renowned batis or fountain where the sacred Image itself bathed. Devout people still see the imprint of the feet and the trail of hair on the hard rock when they wipe them, just like any woman who uses coconut oil, and as if her hair were made of steel or diamond, and weighed a thousand tons. We wish that the terrible Image would once shake its sacred hair before the eyes of these devout people, and place its foot on their tongue or head. There, next to that same fountain, Captain Tiago must eat roast suckling pig, sinigang of dalag with alibambang leaves [23] and other more or less appetizing stews. The two masses cost him a little more than four hundred pesos, but They were cheap if one were to consider the glory that the Mother of God acquired with the wheels of fire, rockets, bombs, and mortars, or versos as they are called there, if one were to calculate the great profits that, thanks to these masses, she was to obtain during the rest of the year. But Antipolo was not the only theater of her noisy devotion. In
Binondo, in Pampanga, and in the town of San Diego, whenever he had to play a rooster with large stakes, he would send the priest gold coins for propitiatory masses, and, like the Romans who consulted their augurs before a battle while feeding the sacred chickens, Captain Tiago also consulted his own, with the modifications appropriate to the times and new truths. He observed the flame of the candles, the smoke of the incense, the voice of the priest, etc., and from their tone he tried to deduce his future fate. It is a widely accepted belief that Captain Tiago loses few bets, and these are due to the officiant being hoarse, the lights being too dim, the candles too fat, or a counterfeit coin slipping among the coins, etc., etc. The warden of a brotherhood assured him that these disappointments were tests to which heaven subjected him to further assure him of his faith and devotion. Loved by the priests, respected by the sacristans, pampered by the candle makers and the pyrotechnicians or castillers, the man was happy in the religion of this land, and people of character and great piety also attribute great influence to him in the heavenly Court. That he was at peace with the Government is beyond doubt, however difficult the matter may seem. Unable to imagine a new thought, and content with his modus vivendi, he was always ready to obey the lowest official in every office, to give away legs of ham, capons, turkeys, and Chinese fruit at any time of year. If he heard the natives spoken ill of, he, not considering himself as such, would join in and speak worse; if the mestizos sangleyes [24] or Spaniards were criticized, he criticized himself too, perhaps because he already believed himself to be a pure Iberian. He was the first to applaud any imposition or contribution , especially when he smelled a contract or a lease behind it . He always had orchestras at hand to congratulate and confront [25] all kinds of governors, mayors, prosecutors, etc., etc., on their holidays, birthdays, the birth or death of a relative, in short, at any alteration in the usual monotony. For this purpose, he commissioned laudatory verses, hymns celebrating the gentle and affectionate governor, the brave and courageous mayor, whose palm of honor (or palmeta) awaits him in heaven, among other things. He was a gobernadorcillo (little governor) of the wealthy mestizo guild, despite the protests of many who did not consider him as such. In his two years in office, he ruined ten tailcoats, as many top hats, and half a dozen walking sticks: the tailcoat and the top hat in the City Hall, in Malacañang, and in the barracks; the top hat and the tailcoat in the cockpit, in the market, in processions, in the stores of the Chinese people; and beneath the hat and inside the tailcoat, Captain Tiago sweated while fencing with his tasseled cane, arranging, arranging, and arranging everything with astonishing activity and an even more astonishing seriousness. So the authorities saw in him a man endowed with the best will, peaceful, submissive, obedient, and obsequious, who did not read any book or newspaper from Spain, although he spoke Spanish well; they looked at him with the feeling with which a poor student contemplates the worn heel of his old shoe, bent due to his way of walking. For him, both the Christian and secular phrases « beati pauperes spiritu » and « beati possidentes » were true, and one could very well apply to him that, according to some, mistaken translation from the Greek: « Glory to God in the highest and peace to men of good will on earth! » For, as we shall see later, it is not enough for men to have good will to live in peace. The impious took him for a fool, the poor for a ruthless, cruel exploiter of the misery, and his inferiors for a despot and tyrant. And the women? Ah, the women! Slanderous rumors buzz in the miserable nipa houses [26] and one is sure to hear laments, sobs, sometimes mingled with the wails of an infant. More than one young woman is pointed at by the malicious finger of the neighbors: her gaze is indifferent and her breasts wither. But these things do not keep him awake at night; no young woman disturbs his peace; it is an old woman who makes him suffer, an old woman who competes with him in devotion, and who has earned from many priests more enthusiastic praise and commendation than he ever achieved in his best days. Between Captain Tiago and this widow, heiress of brothers and nephews, there exists a holy emulation, which redounds to the good of the Church, as the competition of the steamers of Pampanga then redounded to the good of the public. Does Captain Tiago give a silver cane with emeralds and topazes to just any Virgin? Well, Doña Patrocinio is already ordering another one, made of gold and with diamonds, from the silversmith Gadáunez. For the Naval procession, Captain Tiago erected a two- sided arch of embossed fabric, with mirrors, glass globes, lamps, and chandeliers. Doña Patrocinio will have another one with four facades, two yards higher, with more flaps and sashes. But then he goes to his forte, his specialty, to masses with bombs and fireworks, and Doña Patrocinio has to bite her lip with her gums, because, excessively nervous, she can’t stand the ringing of the bells, much less the detonations. While he smiles, she thinks of her revenge and, with other people’s money, pays the best orators of the five Manila Corporations, the most famous canons of the Cathedral, and even the Paulists to preach on solemn days on theological and profound subjects to sinners who only understand the language of the store. Captain Tiago’s supporters have observed that she falls asleep during the sermon, but her supporters reply that the sermon has already been paid for, and for her, and in all things, paying is the most important thing. Recently, she astonished him by giving a church three silver and gilded floats, each of which will cost her more than three thousand pesos. Captain Tiago hopes that this old woman will finally breathe her best day or that she will lose five or six of her lawsuits, so that she can serve only God. Unfortunately, they are defended by the best lawyers of the Royal Court, and as for his health, the illness has no way of getting a hold of him: he resembles a steel wire, undoubtedly for the edification of souls, and he clings to this vale of tears with the tenacity of a skin rash. His supporters are confident that upon his death he will be canonized, and that Captain Tiago himself will still venerate him on the altars, which he accepts and promises as long as he dies soon. Such was Captain Tiago at that time. As for his background, he was the only son of a sugar merchant from Malabón, quite wealthy, but so miserly that he did not want to spend a penny to educate his son, for which reason Santiaguillo was raised by a good Dominican, a very virtuous man, who strove to teach him everything good he could and knew. Just when he was about to have the good fortune of being called a logician by his acquaintances—that is, when he was about to study logic—the death of his protector, followed by that of his father, put an end to his studies, and he then had to dedicate himself to business. He married a beautiful young woman from Santa Cruz who helped him make his fortune and gave him his social position. Doña Pía Alba was not content with buying sugar, coffee, and indigo: she wanted to sow, and the new couple bought land in San Diego, from which time she became friends with Father Dámaso and Don Rafael Ibarra, the richest capitalist in town. The lack of an heir in the first six years of marriage made this desire to accumulate wealth almost a reprehensible ambition, and yet Doña Pía was slender, robust, and well-formed. She performed novenas in vain ; she visited the Virgin of Caysasay in Taal on the advice of devotees of Saint Diego ; she gave alms; danced in the procession in In the middle of the May sun before the Virgin of Turumba in Pakil: all was in vain, until Friar Dámaso advised her to go to Obando, and there she danced at the feast of Saint Pascual Bailón, and asked for a son. It is known that in Obando there is a Trinity that grants sons and daughters at choice: Our Lady of Salambau, Saint Clare and Saint Pascual. Thanks to this wise advice, Doña Pía felt like a mother… Alas! Like the fisherman Shakespeare speaks of in Macbeth, who stopped singing when he found a treasure, she lost her joy, became very sad and was never seen to smile again. « Whimsical things! » everyone said, even Captain Tiago. A puerperal fever ended her sadness, leaving an orphaned beautiful girl whom Friar Dámaso himself took to the font ; And since Saint Pascual did not produce the child they asked for, they named her Maria Clara in honor of the Virgin of Salambau and Saint Clare, punishing the honorable Saint Pascual Bailón with silence . The girl grew up in the care of Aunt Isabel, that elderly woman of nun-like manners we saw at the beginning. She lived most of the year in San Diego for its healthy climate, and there Friar Dámaso held celebrations for her. Maria Clara did not have her father’s small eyes: like her mother, she had large, black eyes shaded by long eyelashes, cheerful and smiling when she played, sad, deep, and thoughtful when she wasn’t smiling. As a child, her curly hair was almost blond; her nose, of a correct profile, was neither sharp nor flat; her mouth resembled her mother’s small and graceful one, with the cheerful dimples on her cheeks. Her skin had the fineness of an onion layer and the whiteness of cotton, according to her crazed relatives, who found the trait of Captain Tiago’s paternity in María Clara’s small, well-shaped ears. Aunt Isabel attributed those semi-European features to the whims of Doña Pía; she remembered having seen her many times in the first months of pregnancy weep before Saint Anthony; another cousin of Captain Tiago was of the same opinion, but differed in the choice of saint; for her it was either the Virgin or Saint Michael. A famous philosopher, a cousin of Captain Tinong and who knew the Amat [27] by heart, sought the explanation in planetary influences. María Clara, idol of all, grew up among smiles and loves. The friars themselves celebrated her when, in processions, they dressed her in white, her abundant, curly hair woven with sampagas [28] and lilies, with two little silver and gold wings attached to the back of her dress, and two white doves in her hand, tied with blue ribbons. And then, she was so cheerful, her conversation so candidly childish, that Captain Tiago, mad with love, did nothing but bless the Saints of Obando and advise everyone to acquire beautiful sculptures. In southern countries, a girl at thirteen or fourteen years of age becomes a woman, like the bud of the night, a flower the next morning. During this period of transition, full of mystery and romanticism, María Clara entered the Beaterio de Santa Catalina, on the advice of the priest of Binondo, to receive a strict religious education from the nuns. With tears she said goodbye to Father Dámaso and to the only friend with whom she had played in her childhood, Crisóstomo Ibarra, who later also left for Europe. There, in that convent that communicates with the world through a double gate, and still under the surveillance of Mother Escucha, she lived for seven years. Each with his own particular aims and understanding the mutual inclination of the young people, Don Rafael and Captain Tiago arranged the union of their children and formed a company. This event, which took place some years after the departure of young Ibarra, was celebrated with equal joy by two hearts, each at different ends of the world and in very different circumstances. Chapter 7. IDYLL ON A ROOFTOP. The Song of Songs. Early that morning, Aunt Isabel and María Clara had gone to mass: the latter elegantly dressed, with a rosary of blue beads that Half of it served as a bracelet, and the other with her glasses to read the Anchor of Salvation during the Holy Sacrifice. The priest had scarcely left the altar when the young woman expressed her desire to leave, much to the surprise and displeasure of the good aunt, who believed her niece to be pious and fond of prayer, at least like a nun. Grumbling and crossing herself, the good old woman stood up. « Bah! May the good Lord forgive me, for he must know the hearts of young girls better than you, Aunt Isabel, » she would have said, to cut short her severe, but ultimately maternal, sermons. Now they have fainted, and María Clara distracts her impatience by knitting a silk purse, while the aunt tries to erase all traces of the previous party, beginning to wield the feather duster. Captain Tiago examines and reviews some papers. Every noise in the street, every car that passed, made the Virgin’s bosom throb and made her tremble. Ah, now she wishes she were back in her quiet convent, among her friends! There she could see him without trembling, without being upset! But wasn’t he your childhood friend? Didn’t you play so many games and even quarrel at times? I won’t say the reason for these things ; if you, who are reading this, have loved, you will understand, and if not, it’s useless for me to tell you: laymen don’t understand these mysteries. « I believe, Maria, that the doctor is right, » said Captain Tiago. « You must go to the provinces; you are very pale, you need some good air. What do you think, Malabón… or San Diego? » At the latter name, Maria Clara turned as red as a poppy and was unable to reply. « Now Isabel and you will go to the convent to take out your clothes and say goodbye to your friends, » continued Captain Tiago without raising his head;  » you will never enter it again. » María Clara felt that vague melancholy that takes hold of the soul when one leaves forever a place where one was happy, but another thought softened this pain. « And in four or five days, when you have new clothes, we’ll go to Malabón… Your godfather is no longer in San Diego; the priest you saw here last night, that young priest, is the new priest we have there, he’s a saint.  » « San Diego suits him better, cousin! » Aunt Isabel observed; « besides, the house we have there is better; and the fiesta is approaching. » María Clara wanted to hug her aunt, but she heard a carriage stop and turned pale. « Ah, that’s right! » Captain Tiago replied, and changing her tone, added: « Don Crisóstomo! » María Clara dropped the work she was holding in her hands; she tried to move, but couldn’t: a nervous shudder ran through her body. Footsteps were heard on the stairs, and then, a fresh, manly voice . As if this voice had possessed a magical power, the young woman shook off her emotion and ran, hiding in the oratory where the saints were. The two cousins ​​burst into laughter, and Ibarra still heard the sound of a door closing. Pale, breathing rapidly, the young woman clutched her throbbing breast and tried to listen. She heard the voice, that beloved voice, which for some time she had only heard in dreams; he was asking for her. Mad with joy, she kissed the nearest saint, Saint Anthony the Abbot—a happy saint, in life and in form, always with beautiful temptations! Then she looked for a hole, the one with the keyhole, to see and examine him. She smiled, and when her aunt brought her out of her contemplation, without knowing what she was doing, she threw herself around the old woman’s neck and showered her with repeated kisses. « But, silly, what’s the matter? » the old woman finally managed to say, wiping a tear from her withered eyes. María Clara was embarrassed and covered her eyes with her round arm. « Come on, get ready, come here! » the old woman added in an affectionate tone . « While he talks to your father about you… come, and don’t keep us waiting. » The young woman allowed herself to be led like a child, and there they locked themselves in their room. Captain Tiago and Ibarra were talking animatedly when Aunt Isabel appeared, half dragging her niece, who was looking everywhere , except at the people… What did those two souls say to each other, what did they communicate in that language of the eyes, more perfect than that of the lips, a language given to the soul so that sound does not disturb the ecstasy of feeling? In those moments, when the thoughts of happy beings penetrate through the pupils, the word is slow, coarse, weak, like the rough, clumsy sound of thunder in the dazzling light and the swiftness of a flash: it expresses an already known feeling, an already understood idea, and if it is used, it is because the ambition of the heart, which dominates the entire being and overflows with happiness, wants the entire human organism, with all its physical and psychic faculties, to manifest the poem of joys intoned by the spirit. To the question of love in a gaze that shines or veils, language has no answers: the answer is a smile, a kiss, or a sigh. And then, when the enamored couple, fleeing Aunt Isabel’s duster that raises the dust, went to the rooftop to chat freely among the small arbors, what did they tell each other in whispers, that you trembled, little red flowers with angel hair? Tell it, you who have scents on your breath and colors on your lips; you, zephyr, who learned rare harmonies in the secret of the dark night and in the mystery of our virgin forests; tell it, rays of the sun, brilliant manifestation of the Eternal on earth, the only immaterial in the world of matter; tell it, you, for I only know how to relate prosaic follies! But since you won’t do it, I’ll try it myself. The sky was blue; a fresh breeze, which did not smell of roses, stirred the leaves and flowers of the creepers—which is why the angel hair, the air plants, the dried fish, and the Chinese lanterns trembled. The sound of the saguan [29] stirring the turbid waters of the river, the passage of the carriages and carts over the Binondo bridge reached them distinctly, but not what the aunt was murmuring. “Better yet, there you will be watched by the whole neighborhood,” she would say. At first, they only talked nonsense, that sweet nonsense that is very similar to the boasting of nations in Europe: it tastes and feels like honey to the nationals, but makes foreigners laugh or frown. She, like Cain’s sister, is jealous, and for this reason she asks her lover: “Have you always thought of me? Haven’t you forgotten me on so many journeys?” So many great cities with so many beautiful women! He too, another brother of Cain, knows how to evade questions and is a bit of a liar, and that’s why: « Could I forget you? » he answers, looking spellbound into her black pupils: « Could I break a sacred oath? Do you remember that stormy night when you, seeing me weeping alone beside my mother’s corpse, came up to me, placed your hand on my shoulder, your hand that you hadn’t let me hold for a long time , and said to me: You have lost your mother, I never had her… and you wept with me? You loved her and she loved you like a daughter. Outside it was raining and lightning, but I thought I heard music, saw the pale face of the corpse smiling… Oh, if only my parents were alive and could see you! I then took your hand and my mother’s, swore to love you, to make you happy, whatever fate heaven might have in store for me, and since this oath has never weighed on me, I now renew it. Could I have forgotten you? Your memory has always accompanied me, it has saved me from the dangers of the journey, it has been my consolation in the solitude of my soul in foreign countries; your memory has neutralized the effect of the lotus of Europe, which erases from the memory of many the hopes and misfortunes of the Homeland. In dreams I saw you standing on the beach of Manila, gazing at the distant horizon, wrapped in the warm light of early dawn; I heard a languid and melancholy song, which awakened dormant feelings in me and evoked in the memory of my heart the first years of my childhood, our joys, our games, all the happy past that you encouraged while you were in the village. It seemed to me that you were the fairy, the spirit, the poetic incarnation of my country, beautiful, simple, kind, candid, daughter of the Philippines, of that beautiful country that unites the great virtues of Mother Spain with the beautiful qualities of a young people, just as in your being is united all that is beautiful and lovely, the heritage of both races [30]; and for this reason your love and the one I profess for my country merge into one… Could I forget you? Many times I thought I heard the sounds of your piano and the accents of your voice, and whenever in Germany, at nightfall, when I wandered through the forests, populated by the fantastic creations of its poets and the mysterious legends of its past generations, I evoked your name, I thought I saw you in the mist that rises from the bottom of the valley, I thought I heard your voice in the whispering of the leaves; And when the villagers, returning from work, would let their popular songs be heard from afar, it seemed to me that they harmonized with my inner voices, that they sang for you, and gave reality to my illusions and dreams. Sometimes I would lose myself on the mountain paths, and the night, which gradually descends there, would still find me wandering, seeking my way among the pines, beeches, and oaks. Then, if a few rays of moonlight slipped through the gaps in the branches, I seemed to see you in the heart of the forest, like a vague, amorous shadow oscillating between the light and the darkness of the thicket. And if by chance the nightingale let its varied trills be heard, I believed it was because it saw you and you inspired it. How I have thought of you! The fever of your love not only animated the mist in my sight, but also colored the ice! In Italy, the beautiful Italian sky, with its clarity and depth, spoke to me of your eyes; « Its smiling landscape spoke to me of your smile, as the Andalusian countryside, with its air saturated with aromas, populated with oriental memories, full of poetry and color, spoke to me of your love. On moonlit nights, on that sleepy moon, rowing in a boat on the Rhine, I wondered if I might not deceive my imagination and see you among the poplars on the shore, on the Lorelay rock, or amidst the waves, singing in the silence of the night, like the young fairy of consolation, to cheer the loneliness and sadness of those ruined castles! « I have not traveled like you; I know only your town, Manila and Antipolo, she answers smiling, for she believes everything he tells her, but ever since I said goodbye to you and entered the beguinage, I have always remembered you, and I have not forgotten you no matter how much my confessor ordered me to, imposing many penances on me. I remembered our games, our quarrels when we were children. You chose the most beautiful sigüeyes [31] to play siklot [32]; you searched the river for the roundest and finest pebbles of different colors so we could play sintak; you were very clumsy, you always lost, and as punishment I would hit you with the bantil [33] with the palm of my hand, but I tried not to hit you hard, because I felt sorry for you. In the game of chonka [34] you were very tricky, even more than I, and we used to end up in a fight. Do you remember that time when you got really angry? You made me suffer then, but later, when I remembered it at the beguinage, I smiled, I missed you so I could argue again… and make peace right away. We were still children: we went with your mother to bathe in that stream under the shade of the reeds. On the banks grew many flowers and plants whose strange names you told me in Latin and Spanish, for you were already studying at the Athenaeum then. I paid no attention to you; I amused myself by chasing the butterflies and dragonflies, whose pinprick- like bodies bear all the colors of the rainbow and all the glints of mother-of-pearl, swarming and chasing one another among the flowers. Sometimes with my hands I tried to surprise and catch the little fish as they glide swiftly among the moss and pebbles on the bank. Suddenly you disappeared, and when you returned you were wearing a crown of orange leaves and flowers that you placed on my head, calling me Chloe; For yourself, you made another one of vines. But your mother took my crown, crushed it with a stone, and mixed it with the gogo [35] with which she was going to wash our heads. Tears sprang to your eyes, and you said that she understood nothing of mythology. “Fool!” your mother replied, “you will see how sweet your hair will smell afterward.” I laughed, you were offended, you would not speak to me, and for the rest of the day you were so serious that I felt like crying in turn. On the way back to the village, and the sun was scorching hot, I picked some sage leaves that grew by the side of the road, and gave them to you to put inside your hat and not get a headache . You smiled, then I took your hand, and we made peace. Ibarra smiled with happiness, opened his wallet, and took out a piece of paper, inside which were wrapped some blackish, dry, and aromatic leaves. « Your sage leaves! » he replied to her look; « this is all you’ve given me. » She in turn quickly took a small white satin bag from her bosom. « Psh! » she said, slapping him on the hand; « it is not allowed to be touched; it’s a farewell letter.  » « Is this the one I wrote you before leaving?  » « Have you written me another one, my lord?  » « And what was I saying to you then?  » « A lot of lies, the excuses of a bad payer! » she replied smiling, giving him to understand how pleasant those lies were. « Stay! I’ll read it to you, but I’ll suppress your flattery so as not to torment you. » And raising the paper to the level of her eyes so that the young man could not see her face, she began: « My… I will not read what follows to you, for it is a lie, » and she scanned a few lines with her eyes. « My father wants me to leave despite my pleas. » « You are a man, » he told me, « you must think of the future and your duties. You must learn the science of life, what your country cannot give you, so that you may be useful to it one day. If you remain at my side, in my shadow, in this atmosphere of worry, you will not learn to look into the distance; and the day I am gone you will find yourself like the plant our poet Balthazar speaks of: Grown in water, its leaves wither as soon as it is not watered; a moment of heat dries it out. You see? You are almost a young man now, and yet you still weep! » This reproach hurt me, and I confessed that I loved you. My father fell silent, reflected, and placing his hand on my shoulder, he said in a trembling voice: « Do you think that you alone know how to love, that your father neither loves you nor regrets parting from you? We recently lost your mother; I am now approaching old age, that age when one seeks the support and consolation of youth, and yet I accept my solitude, and I do not know if I will ever see you again. But I must think of other, greater things… The future opens for you, it closes for me; your loves are born, mine are dying; The fire boils in your blood, the cold creeps into mine, and yet you weep and do not know how to sacrifice the now for a tomorrow useful to you and your country! My father’s eyes filled with tears; I fell to my knees at his feet, embraced him, begged his forgiveness, and told him I was ready to leave… Ibarra’s agitation suspended his reading: the young man was pale and paced from one end of the roof to the other. « What’s the matter? What’s wrong with you? » she asked him. « You’ve made me forget that I have my duties, that I must leave right now for the village! Tomorrow is the Feast of the Dead. » María Clara fell silent, fixed her large, dreamy eyes on him for a few moments, and picking some flowers, said, moved: « Go, I won’t keep you any longer; in a few days we will see each other again! Place this flower on your parents’ grave! » A few minutes later, the young man descended the stairs accompanied by Captain Tiago and Aunt Isabel, while Maria Clara locked herself in the oratory. « Please tell Andeng to get the house ready, Maria and Isabel are about to arrive! Have a good trip! » Captain Tiago said, as Ibarra climbed into the carriage, which departed for the Plaza of San Gabriel. And then, by way of consolation, he said to Maria Clara, who was weeping beside an image of the Virgin: –Go on, light two two-real candles, one for San Roque, and another for San Rafael, patron saint of travelers! Light the lamp of Our Lady of Peace and Good Voyage, for there are many tulisanes [36]. It is better to spend four reales on wax and six cuartos on oil than to have to pay a large ransom later! Chapter 8. MEMORIES. Ibarra’s carriage was traveling through part of the liveliest suburb of Manila; what had made him sad the night before, made him smile in the light of day despite himself. The bustle of life everywhere, so many cars speeding back and forth, the wagons, the carriages, the Europeans, the Chinese, the natives, each in their own costume, the fruit vendors, the joggers, the naked porter, the food stalls, the inns, restaurants, shops, even the carts pulled by the impassive and indifferent carabao, which seems to amuse itself by dragging bundles while philosophizing—everything, the noise, the clatter, even the sun itself, a certain particular smell, the variegated colors, awakened in his memory a world of dormant recollections. Those streets were not yet paved. The sun would shine two days in a row, then turn to dust, covering everything, making people cough, and blinding passersby. It would rain one day, and a swamp would form, reflecting the headlights of cars at night, splashing pedestrians on the narrow sidewalks from five meters away. How many women had left their embroidered slippers in those waves of mud! Then prisoners would be seen trampling the streets in a row, their heads shaved, wearing short-sleeved shirts and knee-length trousers with blue numbers and letters; their legs were chained half-wrapped in dirty rags to soften the friction, or perhaps the cold, of the iron; joined together in pairs, tanned by the sun, exhausted by heat and exhaustion, harassed and whipped with a rod by another prisoner, who perhaps consoled himself with the ability to mistreat others in turn . They were tall men with somber faces, whom he had never seen soothed by the light of a smile. Their pupils, however , shone when the staff, whistling, fell upon their shoulders, or when a passerby threw them the butt of a cigar, half wet and crushed. The one nearest to him would catch it and hide it in his salakot [37]; the rest would stare at the other passersby with a strange expression. He thought he could still hear the noise they made breaking up the stone to fill the potholes, and the joyful sound of the heavy shackles on their swollen ankles. Ibarra still shuddered to recall a scene that had struck his imagination as a child: it was an afternoon siesta, and the sun was casting down its hottest rays. In the shade of a wooden cart lay one of those men, lifeless, his eyes half-open. Two others, silent, were arranging a cane stretcher, without anger, without pain, without impatience, which was typical of the character attributed to the natives. « Today you, tomorrow we, » they would say among themselves. People moved by, without caring , quickly; women passed by, looked at him, and continued on their way; the spectacle was common; it had hardened hearts; the carriages sped by, reflecting on their varnished bodies the rays of that brilliant sun in a cloudless sky; only he, an eleven- year-old boy, just arrived from the village, was moved by it; only he had a nightmare the following night. The good and honorable Boat Bridge was gone, that good Filipino bridge, which did its best to serve despite its natural imperfections, which rose and fell according to the whim of the Pasig River and which the latter had mistreated and destroyed more than once. The almond trees in the Plaza of San Gabriel had not grown; they remained stunted. The Escolta [38] seemed less beautiful to him, although a large building with caryatids occupied the site of the old dressing rooms. The new Puente de España caught his attention; the houses on the right bank of the river among the reed beds and trees, where the Escolta ends and Romero Island begins, reminded him of the cool mornings when they would pass by on their way to the baths at Ulî Ujî on a bicycle [39]. He would find many carriages pulled by magnificent teams of dwarf horses: inside the carriages were employees, still half asleep, perhaps heading to their offices, soldiers, Chinese people in a fatuous and ridiculous posture, grave friars, canons, etc. In an elegant victoria he thought he recognized Father Dámaso, serious and with furrowed eyebrows, but he had already passed and now Captain Tinong, with his wife and two daughters, was greeting him happily from his carriage. As he descended the bridge, the horses began to trot, heading towards the Paseo de la Sabana. To the left, the Arroceros Tobacco Factory could be heard the sound of the cigar makers beating their leaves. Ibarra couldn’t help but smile, remembering that strong smell that filled the Bargas Bridge at five in the afternoon and made him dizzy as a child. The lively conversations and jokes automatically took his mind back to the Lavapiés neighborhood in Madrid , with its cigarette riots, so fatal for the unfortunate chili peppers, etc. The botanical garden drove away his cheerful memories: the demon of comparisons made him think of the botanical gardens of Europe, in countries where it takes a lot of willpower and a lot of gold for a leaf to sprout and a flower to open its calyx; he remembered those of the colonies, rich and well-tended, and all open to the public. Ibarra looked away, to his right, and there he saw the old Manila, still surrounded by its walls and moats, like an anemic young woman wrapped in a dress from her grandmother’s good days. The sight of the sea that stretches on into the distance!….. « On the other shore is Europe! » thought the young man. Europe with its beautiful nations, constantly agitated, seeking happiness, dreaming every morning and becoming disillusioned when the sun sets… happy in the midst of its catastrophes! Yes, on the other shore of the infinite sea are the spiritual nations, although they do not condemn matter, more spiritual even than those who pride themselves on worshipping the spirit!… But these thoughts fled from his imagination at the sight of the small hill in the countryside of Bagumbayan [40]. The isolated mound beside the Paseo de la Luneta now caught his attention and made him meditative. He thought of the man who had opened the eyes of his intelligence, made him understand what was good and just. The ideas he had instilled in him were few, yes, but they were not vain repetitions: they were convictions that did not pale in the light of the greatest centers of Progress. That man was an elderly priest, and the words he had spoken when he had bid him farewell still echoed in his ears. « Do not forget that if knowledge is the heritage of humanity, only those with heart inherit it, » he had reminded him. « I have tried to transmit to you what I have received from my teachers; I have tried to increase that wealth as much as I could, and I will transmit it to the next generation. You will do the same with the one who succeeds you, and you can triple it, for you are going to very rich countries. » And he added, smiling: « They come looking for gold; go you also to their country to look for other gold that we need. Remember, however, that not all that glitters is gold.  » That man had died there. To these reminders, he replied in a low voice: « No, despite everything, the homeland comes first, the Philippines comes first, daughter of Spain, the Spanish homeland comes first! No, that which is fatal does not tarnish the homeland, no! » The hermitage, a phoenix of nipa, rising from the ashes in the form of white and blue houses with red-painted zinc roofs, doesn’t attract their attention. Neither Malate nor the cavalry barracks with its trees opposite, nor the inhabitants, nor the nipa houses with more or less pyramidal or prismatic roofs, hidden among banana trees and bongas, built like nests by each father of a family, attract their attention. The carriage continued rolling: it met a wagon drawn by one or two horses, whose abaka harnesses [41] betrayed their provincial origin. The wagon driver tried to see the traveler in the shiny carriage and passed without exchanging a word, without a single greeting. Sometimes a small cart, drawn by a carabao, walked slowly and indifferently, enlivened the wide and dusty roads, bathed in the brilliant sun of the tropics. The melancholy and monotonous song of the guide, mounted on the buffalo, is accompanied by the strident creaking of the dry wheel against the enormous axle of the heavy vehicle; sometimes it is the dull sound of the worn runners or soles of a paragos, that sled of the Philippines, which drags itself with difficulty over the dust or puddles of the road. In the fields, on the open threshing floors, cattle graze, mingling with white herons, peacefully perched on the back of the ox, which ruminates and savors the meadow grass with half-closed eyes. In the distance, herds of horses frolic, leap, and run, pursued by a lively colt with a long tail and abundant mane. The colt whinnies, and the earth leaps with the thuds of its powerful hooves. Let us leave the young man to travel meditating or dozing: the melancholic or lively poetry of the countryside does not attract his attention. That sun that makes the treetops shine and the peasants run, whose feet are burned by the scorching ground despite their calloused shoes, that sun that stops the village girl under the shade of an almond tree or a sugarcane field and makes her think of vague and inexplicable things, that sun holds no charms for our young man. Let’s return to Manila while the carriage rolls staggering, like a drunk, over the rough terrain, while crossing a cane bridge, climbing a steep hill or descending a steep slope. Chapter 9. THINGS OF THE COUNTRY. Ibarra had not been mistaken: Father Dámaso was indeed in that victoria , heading for the house he had just left. « Where are you going? » the friar asked María Clara and Aunt Isabel , who were preparing to climb into a carriage with silver ornaments. Father Dámaso, in his preoccupation, lightly patted the young woman’s cheeks. « To the Beaterio to get my things, » she replied. « Ahaaa! Aha! Let’s see who can do more, let’s see… » he murmured distractedly, leaving the two women no little surprised. With his head down and walking slowly, he reached the stairs and went up. « He must have a sermon, and he’ll be studying it by heart! » said Aunt Isabel. « Come up, Maria, we’ll be late.  » Whether Padre Dámaso had a sermon or not, we cannot say; but very important things must have absorbed his attention, for he did not extend his hand to Capitan Tiago, who had to genuflect to kiss it. « Santiago! » was the first thing he said. « We have some very important things to talk about; let’s go to your office.  » Capitan Tiago grew restless, lost the ability to speak, but obeyed and followed behind the colossal priest, who closed the door behind him.  » While they confer in secret, let’s find out what has become of Fray Sibyla. The learned Dominican is not in the rectory: very early, after saying Mass, he went to the convent of his order, located at the entrance to the Gate of Isabel II or Magallanes, depending on which family reigns in Madrid. » Ignoring the rich smell of chocolate, nor the sound of drawers and coins coming from the procurator’s office, and barely responding to the respectful and deferential greeting of the brother procurator, Brother Sibyla went upstairs, crossed some corridors, and knocked on a door with his knuckles. « Come in! » a voice sighed. « God restore your reverence’s health! » was the young Dominican’s greeting as he entered. Seated in a large armchair was an old priest, gaunt and somewhat yellowish, like those saints painted by Rivera. His eyes were sunken into hollowed sockets, crowned with bushy eyebrows, which, because they were almost always contracted, increased their intense brilliance. Father Sibyla looked at him, moved, his arms crossed beneath his eyes. of the venerable scapular of Saint Dominic. Then he bowed his head without saying a word and seemed to wait. « Ah! » sighed the sick man. « They advise me to have an operation. Hernando, an operation at my age! The country, this terrible country! It teaches me a lesson, Hernando!  » Friar Sibyla slowly raised his eyes and fixed them on the sick man’s face. « And what has Your Reverence decided? » he asked. « To die! Alas! Is there anything else left for me? I suffer too much, but… I have made many suffer… I have paid my debt! And you, how are you? What have you brought?  » « I came to speak to you about the commission you have given me.  » « Ah! And what about it?  » « Psh! » replied the young man with disgust, sitting down and disdainfully turning his face elsewhere; they have told us fables; Young Ibarra is a prudent boy; he doesn’t seem stupid, but I believe him to be a good boy. « Do you believe it? » « Hostilities began last night.  » « Already? And how? » Brother Sibyla briefly recounted what had happened between Father Dámaso and Crisóstomo Ibarra. « Furthermore, » he added in conclusion, « the young man is marrying the daughter of Capitan Tiago, educated in the school of our sisters, and he is rich, and he won’t want to make enemies to lose his happiness and fortune.  » The sick man nodded his head in agreement. « Yes, I think as you do… With a woman like that and a similar father-in-law, we’ll have him body and soul. And if not, so much the better if he declared himself our enemy!  » Brother Sibyla looked at the old man in surprise. « For the good of our Holy Corporation, of course, » he added, breathing heavily. « I prefer attacks to the foolish praise and flattery of friends… It’s true that they are paid for. » « Does Your Reverence think so? » The old man looked at him sadly. « Keep that in mind! » he replied, breathing heavily. « Our power will last as long as there is belief in it. If we are attacked, the Government says: They are attacked because they see an obstacle to their freedom, so let us preserve it.  » « And if it listens to them? The Government sometimes…  » « It won’t!  » « However, if, driven by greed, it should come to want for itself what we collect… if there were a daring and reckless person…  » « Then woe to him! » Both remained silent. « Besides, » continued the sick man, « we need to be attacked, to be awakened: this reveals our weaknesses and improves us. Exaggerated
praise deceives us, lulls us to sleep, but abroad it makes us look ridiculous, and the day we are made to look ridiculous, we will fall as we fell in Europe. » Money will no longer enter our churches, no one will buy scapulars or belts or anything, and when we cease to be rich, we will no longer be able to convince consciences —Psh! We will always have our estates, our farms…— They will all be lost, as we lost them in Europe! And the worst thing is that we are working for our own ruin. For example: this excessive desire to raise the canon on our lands every year, and at our whim, this desire that I have fought in vain in all the Chapters—this desire is ruining us! The indigenous person is forced to buy lands elsewhere that are as good as or better than ours. I fear that we are beginning to decline: Quos vult perdere Júpiter dementat prius. Therefore, let us not increase our weight; the people are already murmuring. You’ve thought well: let’s leave the others to settle their accounts there, let’s preserve the prestige we have left, and since we will soon appear before God, let’s wipe the flies off our faces… May the God of mercies have mercy on our weakness! « So your reverence believes that the canon or tribute? » « Let’s not talk about money anymore! » interrupted the sick man with some displeasure. « You were saying that the lieutenant had promised Father Dámaso…  » « Yes, Father! » answered Friar Sibyla, half smiling. But this morning I saw him and he told me that he was sorry for everything that had happened last night, that the sherry had gone to his head, and that he considered that Father Dámaso was in the same situation as himself. » « And the promise? » I asked him in « Joke. » « Father, » he replied, « I know how to keep my word when it doesn’t stain my honor. I am not, nor have I ever been, an informer; that’s why I only have two stars. » After talking about other insignificant things, Friar Sibyla took his leave. The lieutenant had not actually gone to Malacañan [42], but the Captain General learned what had happened. While talking with his aides about the allusions the Manila newspapers were making to him under the name of comets and celestial apparitions, one of them told him about Father Dámaso in a somewhat more intentional way, although in a more correct manner. « From whom did you hear it? » His Excellency asked, smiling. « From Laruja, who was telling it this morning in the editorial office. » The Captain General smiled again and added: « Woman and friar do no wrong! I intend to live in peace for the time I have left in this country and I don’t want any more trouble with men who wear skirts. What’s more, I have also learned that the provincial has flouted my orders. I requested the transfer of that friar as punishment; and well, they transferred him, taking him to another, much better town: frailadas, as we say in Spain! But when His Excellency found himself alone, he stopped laughing. « Ah! If these people weren’t so stupid, I would put your Reverences in their place! » he sighed. « But every town deserves its fate, and let’s do what everyone else does. » Captain Tiago, meanwhile, finished conferring with Father Dámaso, or rather, he with that one. « So you’ve been warned! » said the Franciscan as he took his leave. « All this could have been avoided if you had consulted me earlier, if you hadn’t lied when I asked you. Try not to commit any more foolish acts and trust his godfather! » Captain Tiago paced the hall two or three times, thoughtful, and suddenly sighing, as if a good thought had occurred to him, he ran to the oratory and quickly extinguished the candles and the lamp he had lit to protect Ibarra. « There is still time, and the road is very long! » he murmured. Chapter 10. THE TOWN. Almost on the shore of the lake lies the town of San Diego [43] amidst fields and rice paddies. It exports sugar, rice, coffee, and fruit or sells them at bargain prices to the Chinese, who exploit the ingenuity or vices of the farmers. When on a clear day the boys climb to the top of the church tower, which is adorned with moss and climbing plants, they burst into joyful exclamations, provoked by the beauty of the panorama before them. Amidst that mass of roofs made of nipa, tile, zinc and cabonegro [44], separated by orchards and gardens, each one knows how to find his little house, his little nest. Everything serves as a sign: a tree, the tamarind with its light foliage, the coconut palm laden with nuts like the generative Astarte or the Ephesian Diana with her numerous breasts, a flexible reed, a bonga, a cross. There is the river, a monstrous crystal serpent, asleep on the green carpet; from time to time pieces of rock curl its current, scattered on the sandy bed; there the channel narrows between two high banks to which trees with bare roots cling in contortions ; here a gentle slope forms and the river widens and becomes calm. There, further away, a small house, built on the edge, defies the height, the winds, and the abyss, and from its thin harigues or props, it seems a monstrous stilt spying on the reptile, ready to attack it. Trunks of palm trees or trees still with bark, shifting and wobbly, join both banks, and if they are poor bridges, they are magnificent gymnastic apparatus for balancing, which is not to be disdained: the children are amused from the river where they bathe, with the anguish of the woman passing by with a basket on her head, or of the old man who trembles and drops his staff into the water. But what always draws attention is what we might call a peninsula of forest in that sea of ​​cultivated land. There are centuries-old trees, with hollow trunks, that die only when lightning strikes the surface. proud crown and sets it ablaze: they say that then the fire is confined and dies in the same place; there are enormous rocks that time and nature dress with velvets of moss: the dust settles layer upon layer in their hollows, the rain fixes them and the birds sow seeds. Tropical vegetation develops freely: bushes, weeds, curtains of vines intertwined with each other, move from one tree to another, hang from the branches, cling to the roots, to the ground, and as if Flora were not yet happy, she plants upon plants; moss and fungi live on the cracked bark, and aerial plants, gracious guests, mistake their embraces for the leaves of the hospitable tree. That forest was respected: strange legends existed about it, but the most credible and therefore least believed and known seems to be the following. When the town was still a miserable heap of huts, and the grass in the so-called streets still grew abundantly, in those days when deer and wild boars came by at night, an old Spaniard with deep eyes and who spoke Tagalog quite well arrived one day. After visiting and exploring the land in various directions, he asked for the owners of the forest where the hot springs ran. Some people presented themselves who claimed to be the owners, and the old man acquired them in exchange for clothes, jewelry, and some money. Then, somehow , he disappeared. The people already believed him to be enchanted, when a fetid odor emanating from the neighboring forest attracted the attention of some shepherds; they tracked him down and found the old man in a state of putrefaction, hanging from the branch of a balitî [45] tree. In life, he had already been frightening because of his deep, hollow voice, those sunken eyes, and that soundless laugh; but now, having committed suicide, he disturbed the women’s sleep. Some threw the jewels into the river and burned the clothes, and from the moment the body was buried at the foot of the balitî, no one dared to venture there. A shepherd, looking for his animals, reported seeing lights; it was the young men, and they heard wailing. An unhappy lover, who, to attract the attention of the disdainful woman, promised to spend the night under the tree by wrapping a long reed around its trunk, died of a rapid fever, which took him the day after the night of his bet. Many tales and legends still circulated about this place. But months passed, and a young man, apparently a Spanish mestizo, who claimed to be the son of the deceased, came and settled in that corner, dedicating himself to farming, especially to planting indigo. Don Saturnino was a taciturn young man with a violent, sometimes cruel, disposition, but he was very active and hardworking: he surrounded his father’s grave with a wall, which he visited only occasionally. As he grew older, he married a young woman from Manila, with whom he had Don Rafael, Crisóstomo’s father. From a very young age, Don Rafael earned the affection of the peasants. Agriculture, brought and fostered by his father, developed rapidly; new inhabitants influxed, many Chinese people, and the hamlet soon became a village and had an indigenous priest. Later, the village became a town, the priest died, and Friar Dámaso arrived, but the tomb and the surrounding territory were respected. The boys sometimes dared, armed with sticks and stones, to wander around the surrounding area to pick guavas, papayas, lomboi [46], etc., and it happened that at the height of their activity, or while they were silently watching the rope swing from the branch, one or two stones would fall, coming from who knows where; then, at the cry of  » Old man! Old man! » They threw fruit and sticks, jumped from the trees, ran among rocks and bushes and did not stop until they left the forest, some pale, panting, others tearful, and very few laughing. Chapter 11. THE SOVEREIGNS. Divide and reign. (New Machiavelli.) Who were the caciques of the town? Don Rafael was not one when he lived, although he was the richest, he had more land, and almost everyone owed him favors. Since he was modest and tried to downplay everything he did, he never formed a strong following in the town, and we’ve seen how they rose up against him when they saw him waver. « Could it be Captain Tiago? » « When he arrived, he was truly received by his debtors with an orchestra; they gave him a banquet and showered him with gifts: the best fruits covered his table; if a deer or wild boar was shot, he would get a quarter; if he found a debtor’s horse beautiful, half an hour later he would see it in his stable. All this is true, but they laughed at him and secretly called him Sacristan Tiago. Perhaps the little governor? This was an unhappy man who didn’t command, he obeyed; he didn’t scold anyone, he was quarrelsome; he didn’t rule, he was ruled over; On the other hand, he had to answer to the Mayor for everything he had been ordered, commanded, and arranged as if it had all sprung from his own skull. But, to his credit, he has neither stolen nor usurped this dignity: it has cost him five thousand pesos and many humiliations, and for what it earns him, it seems very cheap. Come on! Then it must be God! Ah! The good God did not trouble the consciences or the sleep of his inhabitants: at least He did not make them tremble, and if someone had happened to speak of Him in a sermon, they would surely have sighed: If only there were one God!… They paid little attention to the good Lord: the saints, men and women, gave them plenty to do. For those people, God had become like those poor kings who surround themselves with favorites: the people only pay court to the latter. San Diego was a kind of Rome, but not Rome when Romulus’s disciple drew its walls with a plow, nor when later, bathing in his own and other people’s blood, he dictated laws to the world, no: it was like contemporary Rome with the difference that instead of marble monuments and coliseums, it had monuments of saualî [47] and nipa cockpits. The priest was the Pope in the Vatican; the second lieutenant of the Civil Guard was the King of Italy at the Quirinal, that is, everything in proportion to the saualî and the nipa cockpit. And here as there there were continual disagreements, since each, wanting to be the master, found the other superfluous. Let us explain and describe the qualities of both. Fray Bernardo Salví was that young and silent Franciscan of whom we have spoken before. By his customs and manners he was very distinguished from his brothers and even more from his predecessor, the violent Padre Dámaso. He was thin, sickly, almost constantly thoughtful, strict in the fulfillment of his religious duties and careful of his good name. A month after his arrival, almost all of them became brothers of the VOT [48], much to the sadness of their rival, the Confraternity of the Most Holy Rosary. The soul leaped for joy at seeing four or five scapulars around each neck and a knotted cord around each waist, and those processions of corpses or ghosts in gingham habits. The head sacristan made a small fortune selling or giving alms, as it should be said, all the objects necessary to save the soul and fight the devil. It is well known that this spirit, which previously dared to contradict God Himself face to face, doubting His words, as it is said in the holy book of Job, who carried Our Lord Jesus Christ through the air, as he did later in the Middle Ages with the witches, and continues, they say, to do so even with the Asuang [49] of the Philippines, seems to have become so shameful today that he cannot bear to look at a cloth on which two arms are painted and he fears the knots of a cord; but this proves nothing else but that progress is being made on this side as well, and the devil is retrograde or at least conservative like everyone who lives in the darkness, unless he wants us to attribute to him the weaknesses of a fifteen-year-old maiden. As we were saying, Father Salví was very assiduous in fulfilling his duties; according to the ensign, too assiduous. While he was preaching—he was very fond of preaching—the doors of the church were closed; in this he was like Nero, who did not let anyone out while he was singing in the theater; but the former did it for the good and the latter for the evil of souls. He usually punished any of his subordinates’ faults with fines, for he hit very rarely, in which he also differed greatly from Father
Dámaso, who settled everything with blows and blows with his stick, which he gave laughingly and with the greatest good will. For this reason, no one could dislike him; he was convinced that an indigenous person is treated only with blows; so had a friar who knew how to write books, and he believed it, for he never discussed what was printed: many people could complain about this modesty. Brother Salví hit very rarely, but as an old philosopher of the town said, what he lacked in quantity, he abounded in quality, but for this reason, no one could dislike him. Fasting and abstinence, impoverishing his blood, made his nerves frayed, and, as people said, made the wind go to his head. From this it resulted that the sacristans’ backs couldn’t clearly distinguish when a priest fasted or ate too much. The only enemy of this spiritual power with temporal tendencies was, as we have already said, the lieutenant. The only one, for the women tell us that the devil is on the run from him, because one day, having dared to tempt him, he was caught, tied to the foot of the cot, whipped with the cord, and was only released after nine days. Consequently, whoever after this still makes an enemy of a man as such, comes to have a worse reputation than the poor and unwary devils themselves, and the lieutenant deserved his fate. His mistress, an old Filipina woman with a lot of rouge and paint, was called Doña Consolación; her husband and others called her by another name. The ensign avenged his marital misfortunes on himself by getting drunk, ordering his soldiers to do exercises in the sun, while staying in the shade himself, or, more often, by shaking his wife, who, if not a Lamb of God to take away anyone’s sins , on the other hand served to save her from many pains in Purgatory, if she ever went there, which the devout women doubt. He and she, as if joking, would beat each other up and give free entertainments to the neighbors: vocal and instrumental concerts, four-handed, piano, forte, pedal, and all. Every time these scandals reached Father Salví’s ears, he would smile and cross himself, then pray an Our Father; they called him a hypocrite, a Carlist, a miser; Father Salví would smile too and pray some more. The ensign always told the few Spaniards who visited him the following anecdote: « Are you going to the convent to visit Father Moscamuerta? Watch out! If he offers you chocolate, which I doubt!… but anyway, if he does, pay attention. Does he call the servant and say: ‘So-and-so, make a cup of chocolate,’ then stay, no fear, but if he says: ‘So-and-so, make a cup of chocolate,’ then grab your hat and run away.  » « What? » asked the other, frightened. « Does he give a cup of chocolate? » « Wow!  » « You’re not that serious!  » « Then?  » « Chocolate, ‘eh?’ means thick, and chocolate, ‘ah?’ means watery. » But we believe this is slander on the ensign’s part, since the same anecdote is also attributed to many priests. Unless it’s something from the Corporation… To harm him, the soldier, inspired by his mistress, prohibited anyone from walking around after nine at night. Doña Consolación claimed to have seen the priest, disguised in a pineapple shirt and a salakot de nitô [50], walking around late at night. Friar Salví took saintly revenge: upon seeing the ensign enter the church, he would surreptitiously order the sacristan to close all the doors, and then he would climb onto the pulpit and begin to preach until the saints closed their eyes, and the wooden dove above his head, the image of the divine Spirit, would murmur « please! » to him . The ensign, like all unrepentant people, did not correct himself for that: he would go out swearing and as soon as he could catch a sacristan or a servant of the priest, he would arrest him, beat him, make him scrub the floor of the barracks and that of his own house, who then became decent. The sacristan, when he went to pay the fine the priest had imposed for his absence, explained his reasons. Friar Salví listened silently, put away the money, and for the time being, let his goats and sheep go graze in the ensign’s garden, while he looked for a new topic for another, much longer and more edifying sermon. But these things were no obstacle at all, so that, if they saw each other later, they would shake hands and speak courteously. When her husband was dozing off his wine or snoring during his siesta and Doña Consolación couldn’t argue with him, she would settle down at the window with her cigar in her mouth and her blue flannel shirt. She, who can’t stand young people, glares at the girls from there and insults them. They fear her and file past in confusion, unable to raise their eyes, quickening their pace and holding their breath. Doña Consolación had a great virtue: she seemed never to have looked in a mirror. These are the sovereigns of the town of San Diego. Chapter 12. ALL SAINTS. The only thing that undisputedly distinguishes man from animals is the worship they pay to those who have ceased to be. And strangely enough! This custom appears all the more deeply rooted the less civilized the people. Historians write that the ancient inhabitants of the Philippines venerated and deified their ancestors; now the opposite is true: the dead must commend themselves to the living. It is also said that those of New Guinea keep the bones of their dead in boxes and converse with them; most of the peoples of Asia, Africa, and America offer them the most exquisite dishes from their kitchens or those that were their favorite foods in life, and hold banquets that they assume they are present at. The Egyptians built palaces for them, the Muslims built chapels, etc., but the people who are masters in this matter and who have best understood the human heart are those of Dahomey. These Black people know that man is vengeful; so, they say, to please the dead, there is nothing better than to sacrifice all his enemies on the grave. And since man is curious and won’t know how to amuse himself in the afterlife, they send him a messenger every year in the skin of a decapitated slave. We are different from everyone else. Despite the inscriptions on the tombs, almost no one believes that the dead rest, much less in peace. The most optimistic imagine their great-grandparents still toasting in Purgatory, and, if they don’t emerge damned, they will be able to accompany them for many years to come. And whoever wants to contradict us, let them visit the churches and cemeteries of the country on this day, observe and see. But since we are in the town of San Diego, let’s visit yours. To the west, in the middle of the rice fields, is not the city, but the neighborhood of the dead: a narrow path leads to it, dusty on hot days and navigable on rainy days. A wooden gate and a fence, half stone and half reed and stakes, seem to separate the village from the men, but not from the priest’s goats and a few neighborhood pigs, which come and go to explore the graves or brighten that solitude with their presence. In the middle of that vast corral stands a large wooden cross on a stone pedestal. The storm has bent its tin INRI sign , and the rain has erased the letters. At the foot of the cross, as on the real Golgotha, lie in a confused heap of skulls and bones, which the indifferent gravedigger throws from the graves he empties. There they probably await, not the resurrection of the dead, but the arrival of the animals, who with their liquids will warm them and wash those cold nakednesses. Recent excavations can be seen in the surrounding area: here the ground is sunken, there it forms a small hill. The tarambulo and the pandakakî [51] grow in all their luxuriance: the former to prick the legs with its thorny berries, and the latter to add its scent to that of the cemetery, if it were not fragrant enough. However, a few small flowers dot the ground, flowers that, Like those skulls, they are now known only to their Creator: the smile of their petals is pale, and their perfume is the perfume of the tombs. Grass and creepers cover the corners, climb up the walls and niches, dressing and beautifying the naked ugliness; sometimes they penetrate through the cracks that made tremors and earthquakes, hiding from view the venerable emptiness of the tomb. By the time we enter, the men have driven away the animals; only the occasional pig, an animal difficult to convince, peeks out with bright little eyes, poking its head through a large gap in the fence, raising its snout in the air and seeming to say to a woman praying: « Don’t eat it all; leave me some, okay? » Two men are digging a pit near the wall that is threatening to collapse: one, the gravedigger, does so indifferently: he throws in vertebrae and bones, like a gardener throws in stones and dry branches; The other is worried, sweating, smoking, and spitting constantly. « Hey! » says the one smoking, in Tagalog. « Wouldn’t it be better if we dug somewhere else? This is very recent.  » « Some graves are as recent as others.  » « I can’t take it anymore! That bone you broke is still bleeding… um! And that hair?  » « You’re so delicate! » reproaches the other. « As if you were a court clerk! If you had dug up, like I did, a twenty-day-old corpse, at night, in the dark, when it was raining… » My lantern went out. The other shuddered. « The coffin came unnailed, the dead man half came out, it smelled… and you having to carry it… and it was raining, and we were both wet, and…  » « Brrr! And why did you dig it up? » The gravedigger looked at him strangely. « Why? » Do I know? They ordered me to! « Who ordered you to? » The gravedigger half stepped back and examined his companion from head to toe. « Well! You look like a Spaniard; a Spaniard asked me the same questions later , but in secret. Well, I’m going to answer you like the other one: the old priest ordered me to.  » « Ah! And what did you do after the corpse? » continued the delicate one. « Devil! If I didn’t know you and knew you were a man, I’d say you were truly a civil Spaniard: you ask questions like the other one. Well… the
old priest ordered me to bury it in the Chinese cemetery, but since the coffin was heavy and the Chinese cemetery is far away…  » « No, no! I’m not digging any more! » interrupted the other, filled with horror, dropping the spade and jumping out of the pit; « I’ve split a skull and I’m afraid it won’t let me sleep tonight. » The gravedigger burst into laughter as he watched the fastidious man cross himself as he walked away. The cemetery was filling up with men and women dressed in mourning. Some spent some time searching for the grave, arguing among themselves, and, as if they were at odds, separated and each knelt where he thought best; others, those who had niches for their relatives, lit candles and began to pray devoutly. Sighs and sobs could also be heard, which they tried to exaggerate or suppress. Already a murmur of « orápreo, » « orápreiss, » and « requiemæternams » could be heard. A little old man, with bright eyes, entered with his head covered. Upon seeing him, many laughed, and some of the women frowned. The old man seemed to take no notice of such demonstrations, for he went to the pile of skulls, knelt down, and looked for something among the bones for some time. Then he carefully moved the skulls aside one after the other, and as if he couldn’t find what he was looking for, he wrinkled his eyebrows, shook his head from side to side, looked in every direction, and finally stood up and went to the gravedigger. « Listen! » he said to him. The gravedigger raised his head. « Do you know where there is a beautiful skull, white as coconut meat , with a full set of teeth, that I had there at the foot of the cross , under those leaves? » The gravedigger shrugged his shoulders. « Look! » added the old man, showing him a silver coin. « I have nothing more than this, but I’ll give it to you if you find it for me. » The glitter of the coin made him think. He looked towards the ossuary and said: « Isn’t it there? No? Well, then I don’t know.  » « You know, when those who owe me pay me, I’ll give you more, » continued the old man. « It was my wife’s skull; so if you find it for me…  » « Isn’t it there? Well, I don’t know! But if you want, I can give you another one.  » « You’re like the grave you’re digging! » the old man apostrophized nervously. « You don’t know the value of what you’re losing. Who’s the grave for?  » « Do I know? For a dead man! » replied the other, sulkily. « Like the grave, like the grave! » repeated the old man, laughing dryly. « You don’t know what you’re throwing in, or what you’re swallowing. Dig, dig! » And he turned and headed for the door. The gravedigger, meanwhile, had finished his task. Two mounds of fresh, reddish earth rose at the edges of the grave. He took his salakot buyo out of his bowl and began to chew it, looking stupidly at everything that was going on around him. Chapter 13. OMEN OF A STORM. At the moment the old man was leaving, a carriage stopped at the entrance to the path that seemed to have made a long journey; it was covered with dust and the horses were sweating. Ibarra got out, followed by an old servant; he dismissed the carriage with a gesture and headed for the cemetery, silent and grave. « My illness and my occupations have prevented me from returning! » the old man said timidly. « Captain Tiago said he would take care of having a niche erected; but I planted flowers and a cross I carved myself.  » Ibarra did not reply. « There behind that large cross, sir! » continued the servant, pointing to a corner when they had passed through the door. Ibarra was so preoccupied that he didn’t notice the expressions of surprise on the faces of some people who recognized him. They stopped praying and followed him with curious eyes. The young man walked carefully, avoiding the graves, easily identifiable by a dip in the ground. He once trod them; today he respected them: his father lay in the same condition. He stopped when he reached the other side of the cross and looked around. His companion was confused and embarrassed; he looked for footprints in the ground, but nowhere was there a cross to be seen. « Is it here? » he murmured under his breath. « No, it’s over there, but the earth has been disturbed! » Ibarra looked at him anxiously. « Yes! » he continued. « I remember there was a stone beside it; the grave was a little short; the gravedigger was ill, and a tenant farmer had to dig it , but we’ll ask him what has become of the cross. » They approached the gravedigger, who was watching them curiously. He greeted them by removing his salakot. « Can you tell us which grave had a cross over there? » asked the servant. The person being addressed looked toward the spot and thought. « A large cross?  » « Yes, large, » affirmed the old man joyfully, looking meaningfully at Ibarra, whose face brightened. « A cross with intricate work, tied with vines? » asked the gravedigger again. « That’s it, that’s it, like this, like this! » And the servant drew a design in the ground in the shape of a Byzantine cross. « And were there flowers planted in the grave?  » « Oleanders, sampagas, and pansies! That’s right! » added the servant joyfully , offering him a cigar. « Tell us which grave it is and where the cross is. » The gravedigger scratched his ear and answered, yawning: « Well, the cross… I burned it!  » « Burned it? And why did you burn it?  » « Because the big priest ordered it.  » « Who is the big priest? » Ibarra asked. « Who? The one who hits, Father Garrote. » Ibarra rubbed his hand across his forehead. « But at least, can you tell us where the grave is? You must remember it.  » The gravedigger smiled. « The dead man is no longer there! » he replied calmly. « What are you saying?  » « Yes! » the man added jokingly; « I buried a woman in her place a week ago.  » « Are you crazy? » the servant asked him; « if it hasn’t been a year yet. » that we have buried him. « That’s it! I dug him up many months ago. The great priest sent him to me to take him to the Chinese people cemetery. But since it was heavy and it was raining that night…  » The man could not go on; he recoiled in terror at the sight of Crisóstomo, who rushed toward him, grabbing him by the arm and shaking him. « And you did it? » the young man asked in an indescribable tone. « Don’t be angry, sir, » he answered, turning pale and trembling. « I didn’t bury him among the Chinese people. Better to drown than to be among the Chinese people, I said to myself, and I threw the dead man into the water!  » Ibarra put both fists on his shoulders and looked at him for a long time with an expression that cannot be defined. « You are nothing but a wretch! » he said, and rushed out, trampling on bones, graves, crosses, like a madman. The gravedigger felt his arm and muttered: « What a pain the dead are! Father Grande beat me with a club for letting him be buried when I was sick; now this one’s about to break my arm for digging him up. What Spaniards are! I’m still going to lose my job. » Ibarra walked quickly, his gaze far into the distance; the old servant followed him weeping. The sun was already setting; thick nimbus clouds clouded the sky toward the east; a dry wind stirred the treetops and made the sugarcane fields groan. Ibarra was bareheaded; not a tear fell from his eyes, not a sigh escaped his chest . He walked as if fleeing from someone, perhaps from his father’s shadow, perhaps from the approaching storm. He crossed the town, heading for the outskirts, toward that old house he hadn’t set foot in for many years. Surrounded by a wall where several cacti grew, it seemed to beckon him: the windows opened; the ilang-ilang [52] swayed, joyfully shaking its branches, laden with flowers; doves fluttered around the conical roof of his house, located in the middle of the garden. But the young man paid no attention to these joys offered by the return to his old home: his eyes were fixed on the figure of a priest, who was advancing in the opposite direction. It was the priest of San Diego, that meditative Franciscan we had seen, the enemy of the ensign. The air folded the wide brim of his hat; the gingham habit flattened and molded to his form, highlighting his thin , somewhat bowed thighs. In his right hand he carried a palasan [53] cane with an ivory handle. It was the first time that Ibarra and he had seen each other. When they met, the young man stopped for a moment and looked at him fixedly; Brother Salví avoided his gaze and acted distracted. His hesitation lasted only a second; Ibarra quickly approached him, stopped him by placing his hand firmly on his shoulder in a barely intelligible voice. « What have you done to my father? » he asked. Brother Salví, pale and trembling upon reading the emotions expressed on the young man’s face, was unable to answer: he felt paralyzed. « What have you done to my father? » he asked again in a stifled voice. The priest, gradually overcome by the hand that squeezing him, made an effort and answered: « You are mistaken; I have done nothing to your father! » « I have not? » the young man continued, squeezing him until he fell to his knees. « No, I assure you! It was my predecessor, it was Father Dámaso…  » « Ah! » exclaimed the young man, letting go of him and slapping himself on the forehead. And abandoning poor Friar Salví, he hurried home. The servant arrived in the meantime and helped the friar to his feet. Chapter 14. Tasius the Madman, or the Philosopher The strange old man wandered distractedly through the streets. He was a former student of philosophy, who had abandoned his studies to obey his elderly mother, and it was not for lack of means or ability: it was precisely because his mother was rich, and it was said that he had talent. The good woman feared that her son would become a wise man and forget God, so she gave him the choice between being priest or leave the College of San José. He, who was in love, opted for the latter and married. Widowed and orphaned in less than a year, he sought solace in books to free himself from his sadness, from the cockpit, and from idleness. But he became so absorbed in his studies and book buying that he completely neglected his fortune and gradually ruined himself. Well-educated people called him Don Anastasio or the philosopher Tasio, and those with less-educated backgrounds, who were the majority, called him Tasio the madman, because of his strange thoughts and odd manner of treating people. As we were saying, the afternoon was threatening a storm; a few flashes of lightning illuminated the leaden sky with a pale light; the atmosphere was heavy and the air extremely muggy. The philosopher Tasio seems to have already forgotten his beloved skull: now he smiles, looking at the dark clouds. Near the church, he met a man dressed in an alpaca jacket, carrying in his hand more than an arroba worth of candles and a tasseled cane, the symbol of authority. « You seem cheerful? » the latter asked him in Tagalog. « Indeed, Captain; I am cheerful because I have hope.  » « Ah! And what hope is that?  » « The storm!  » « The storm! You are surely planning to bathe? » asked the gobernadorcillo in a mocking tone, looking at the old man’s modest attire. « Bathing… isn’t bad, especially when you stumble upon garbage, » replied Tasio in a similar, if somewhat contemptuous, tone, looking his interlocutor in the face; « but I hope for something better.  » « What, then?  » « A few lightning bolts that kill people and burn houses! » replied the philosopher seriously. « Just ask for a flood!  » « We all deserve it, you and I! » You, Señor Gobernadorcillo, have an arroba of candles there from the Chinese man’s store. For more than ten years I’ve been suggesting to each new captain the purchase of lightning rods, and they all laugh at me, and they buy bombs and rockets, and pay for bell ringing. What’s more, you yourself, the day after my proposal, ordered a bell for Santa Barbara from the Chinese man’s founders , even though science had proven that it’s dangerous to ring the bells on stormy days. And tell me, why in the year 70 when lightning struck Biñan, did it strike precisely the tower and smash the clock and an altar? What was the bell doing for Santa Barbara? At that moment, a flash of lightning flashed. « Jesus, Mary, and Joseph! Blessed Santa Barbara! » murmured the Gobernadorcillo, turning pale and crossing himself. Tasio burst out laughing. « You are worthy of the name of your patron saint! » he said in Spanish, turning his back on him, and headed toward the church. Inside, the sextons were erecting a mound surrounded by candles in wooden candelabras. There were two large tables, one on top of the other, covered with white-striped Black People cloths; painted skulls could be seen here and there. « Is it for the souls or for the candles? » he asked. And seeing two boys, one ten years old and the other approximately seven, he addressed them without waiting for the sextons’ reply. « Are you coming with me, boys? » he asked. « Your mother has prepared a priest’s dinner for you.  » « The head sexton won’t let us leave until eight, sir! » replied the eldest boy. « I hope to collect my salary to give to our mother.  » « Oh! And where are you going?  » « To the tower, sir, to toll for the souls. » « Are you going to the tower? Well, be careful! Don’t go near the bells during a storm. » Then he left the church, but not before following with a compassionate glance the two boys as they climbed the stairs to the choir stalls. Tasio rubbed his eyes, looked at the sky again, and murmured, « Now I’d feel like lightning was striking. » And with his head lowered, he headed thoughtfully toward the outskirts of the town. « Come in first! » a voice said to him in Spanish from a window. The philosopher raised his head and saw a man between thirty and thirty. and five years that he smiled at her. « What are you reading there? » asked Tasio, pointing to a book the man was holding. « It’s a current book: The Sorrows Suffered by the Blessed Souls of Purgatory! » replied the other, smiling. « Well, well, well! » exclaimed the old man in different tones of voice as he entered the house; « the author must be very clever. » Upon ascending the stairs, he was greeted in a friendly manner by the owner of the house and his young wife. His name was Don Filipo Lino, and her name was Doña Teodora Viña. Don Filipo was the senior lieutenant and the leader of an almost liberal party, if it can be called that, and if it is possible for parties to exist in the towns of the Philippines. « Have you found the son of the late Don Rafael, who has just arrived from Europe, in the cemetery ?  » « Yes, I saw him when I was getting out of the carriage.  » « They say he’s gone to look for his father’s grave… » The blow must have been terrible. The philosopher shrugged. « Aren’t you interested in this misfortune? » asked the young lady. « You know I was one of the six who accompanied the corpse; I was the one who presented myself to the Captain General when I saw that everyone here , even the authorities, remained silent in the face of such a great desecration, and yet I always prefer to honor a good man in his life rather than adore him in his death.  » « So?  » « You know, madam, that I am not in favor of a hereditary monarchy. Because of the drops of Chinese blood my mother gave me, I think a bit like Chinese people: I honor the father for the son, but not the son for the father. Let each person receive reward or punishment for their deeds, but not for those of others.  » « Have you ordered a mass to be said for your late wife, as I advised you yesterday? » asked the woman. « No! » replied the old man, smiling. « What a pity! » she exclaimed with genuine regret. « They say that until tomorrow, at ten o’clock, the souls wander free, awaiting the suffrages of the living; that one Mass these days is equivalent to five on other days of the year, or six, as the priest said this morning.  » « Hello! So you mean we have a gracious opportunity to take advantage of?  » « But, Doray! » Don Filipo intervened. « You know that Don Anastasio doesn’t believe in purgatory.  » « I don’t believe in purgatory? » the old man protested, rising from his seat. « I even know something of its history!  » « The history of purgatory! » both partners exclaimed, full of surprise. « Let’s see! Tell us about it!  » « Don’t you know it, and yet you send Masses there and talk about your sufferings? Well! » « Since it’s beginning to rain and it looks like it’s going to last, we’ll have time to not get bored, » replied Tasio, settling down for a moment to meditate. Don Filipo closed the book he was holding, and Doray sat down beside him , determined not to believe anything old Tasio was going to say. He began as follows: « Purgatory existed long before Our Lord Jesus Christ came into the world, and it must have been in the center of the earth according to Father Astete, or near Cluny, according to the monk Father Girard tells us about. The location here is of little importance. Now then, who toasted themselves in those fires that burned from the beginning of the world? Their ancient existence is proven by Christian philosophy, which says that God has created nothing new since He rested.  » « It could have existed in potentia, but not in actu, » objected the lieutenant-chief. « Very well! » However, I will answer that some knew him as existing in actu, and one of them was Zarathustra or Zoroaster, who wrote part of the Avesta and founded a religion, which had certain points of contact with our own; and Zarathustra, according to the wise, existed at least eight hundred years before Jesus Christ. I say at least, for Gaffarel, after examining the testimonies of Plato, Xanthus of Lydia, Pliny, Hermipus and Eudoxus, believes him to be two thousand five hundred years older than our era. Be this as it may, it is certain that Zarathustra already spoke of a kind of purgatory, and gave the means to free oneself from it. The living can redeem the souls of the dead in sin by reciting passages from the Avesta and performing good works, but on the condition that the person praying be a relative up to the fourth generation. The time for this took place every year and lasted five days. Later, when this belief had taken hold among the people, the priests of that religion saw a great business in it and exploited those profoundly dark prisons where remorse reigns, as Zarathustra says. They established, then, that for the price of one derem, a coin of little value they say, the soul can be spared a year of torture; but since for that religion there were sins that cost from 300 to 1,000 years of suffering, such as lying, bad faith, not keeping a given word, etc., it turned out that the rogues pocketed millions of derems. Here you will see something that resembles our purgatory, although with the implied difference of religious differences. A flash of lightning, followed by a resounding peal of thunder, made Doray stand up, and while crossing himself, he said: « Jesus, Mary, and Joseph! I’m leaving you; I’m going to burn some blessed palm and light candles of forgiveness. » The rain began to fall in torrents. The philosopher Tasio continued, as he watched the young woman walk away: « Now that she’s gone, we can discuss the matter more reasonably. Doray, although a little superstitious, is a good Catholic, and I don’t like to tear faith from the heart. A pure and simple faith is distinguished from fanaticism like flame from smoke, like music from clamor: fools and deaf people confuse them. Among ourselves, we can say that the idea of ​​Purgatory is good, holy, and reasonable. » It continues the union between those who were and those who are, and obliges one to a greater purity of life. The evil lies in the abuse that is made of it. But let us now see how this idea, which did not exist either in the Bible or in the Holy Gospels, could have passed into Catholicism . Neither Moses nor Jesus Christ make the slightest mention of it, and the only passage they cite from the Maccabees is insufficient. In addition, this book was declared apocryphal by the Council of Laodicea, and the Holy Catholic Church only admitted it subsequently. Pagan religion also had nothing similar to it. The oft-quoted passage from Virgil’s Aliæ panduntur inanes [54], which gave St. Gregory the Great occasion to speak of drowned souls, and Dante for another story in his Divine Comedy, cannot be the origin of this belief. Neither the Brahmins, nor the Buddhists, nor the Egyptians, who gave Greece and Rome their Charon and their Avernus, had anything resembling this idea. I am not even speaking of the religions of the peoples of Northern Europe: these religions of warriors, bards, and hunters, but not of philosophers, although they still preserve their beliefs and even Christianized rites, could not accompany their hordes in the sack of Rome or sit on the Capitol: religions of the mists, they dissipated in the midday sun. Well, the Christians of the first centuries did not believe in Purgatory: they died with that joyful confidence of soon seeing God face to face. The first Fathers of the Church who seem to have mentioned it were St. Clement of Alexandria, Origen, and St. Irenaeus, perhaps influenced by the Zarathustrian religion, which was then still flourishing and widespread throughout the East, for we read at every step reproaches to the Orientalism of Origen. St. Irenaeus proved its existence by the fact that Jesus Christ remained three days in the depths of the earth, three days of Purgatory, and he concluded from this that every soul must remain there until the resurrection of the body, although in this the Hodie mecum eris in Paradiso [55] seems to contradict him. St. Augustine also speaks of Purgatory, but, if he does not affirm its existence, he does not believe it impossible, supposing that the punishments we receive in this one for our sins could continue in the other life. “Dear Saint Augustine!” exclaimed Don Filipo; “he was not satisfied with what we suffer here, and he wanted it to continue! ” “Well, that’s how it was: some believed, others did not. Although Saint Gregory had already admitted it in his “de quibusdam levibus culpis esse ante judicium purgatorius ignis credendus est,”[56] nothing was definitive about it until the year 1439, that is, eight centuries later , when the Council of Florence declared that there should be a purifying fire for the souls of those who have died in the love of God, but without having yet satisfied divine Justice. Lastly, the Council of Trent, under Pius IV, in 1563 , in the 25th session, issued the decree on Purgatory which begins: Cum catholica ecclesia, Spiriiu Sancto edocta etc. [57] where he says that the suffrages of the living, prayers, alms, and other pious works were the most effective means of freeing souls, although he places the sacrifice of the Mass before everything else. Protestants, however, do not believe in him, and the Greek Fathers neither, for they lack any biblical foundation, and they say that the period of merit or demerit ends at death, and that the Quodcumque ligaberis in terra… [58] does not mean usque ad purgatorium, etc. [59]; but to this it may be replied that Purgatory being in the center of the earth, naturally fell under the dominion of St. Peter. But I should not finish if I had to repeat here all that has been said on the subject. One day when you wish to discuss the matter with me, come to my house, and there we will open volumes and discuss freely and quietly. Now I’m going: I don’t know why tonight the piety of Christians permits theft—you, the authorities, allow it—and I fear for my books. If they were stolen so I could read them, I would let them, but I know that many want to burn them as a work of charity, and this kind of charity, worthy of the Caliph Omar, is fearsome. Some people believe I’m already damned because of these books. « But I suppose you believe in damnation? » asked Doray, smiling, who appeared carrying a brazier of dried palm leaves that gave off a bothersome smoke and a pleasant perfume. « I don’t know, madam, what God will do with me! » replied old Tasio thoughtfully. « When I am dying, I will give myself to Him without fear; do with me what He wills. But a thought occurs to me.  » « And what is that thought? » « If the only ones who can be saved are Catholics, and of these five percent, as many priests say, and Catholics making up a twelfth of the earth’s population if we are to believe what the statistics say, it would follow that after thousands upon thousands of men having been damned during the innumerable centuries that passed before the Savior came into the world, after a Son of God died for us, now only five out of every twelve hundred would be saved. Oh certainly not! I prefer to say and believe with Job: Will you be severe with a flying leaf or chase after a dry twig? No, such misfortune is impossible, to believe it is blasphemy, no, no!  » « What do you want? Justice, divine Purity…  » « Oh! But Justice and divine Purity foresaw the future before creation! » replied the old man, shuddering and standing up. –Creation , man is a contingent and not necessary being, and that God should not have created him, no, if to make one happy he had to condemn hundreds to eternal misfortune, and all for inherited or momentary faults. No! If that were true, drown your child who sleeps there; if such a belief were not a blasphemy against that God who is supposed to be the Supreme Good, then the Phoenician Molok who fed on human sacrifices and innocent blood, and in whose entrails children torn from their mothers’ wombs were burned, that bloodthirsty god, that horrible divinity would be next to him a weak maiden, a friend, the mother of Humanity. And filled with horror, the madman or the philosopher left the house, running into the street despite the rain and the darkness. A dazzling flash of lightning, accompanied by a terrifying crash of thunder, sowing the air with deadly sparks, illuminated the old man who, stretching his hands to heaven, cried: “You protest! I know you are not cruel, I know that I should only call you The Good!” The lightning flashes redoubled, the storm raged… Chapter 15. THE SEXTONS. The thunder crashed at short intervals, crossing one another, and each crash was preceded by the terrifying zigzag of the lightning: one would have said that God was writing his name with fire and that the eternal vault trembled in fear. The rain fell in torrents and, lashed by the wind, which whistled dismally, it changed direction in a daze every moment. The bells intoned their melancholy prayer with fearful voices , and in the brief silence left by the robust roar of the unleashed elements, a sad tolling, apparently a complaint, wailed in mourning. On the second floor of the tower were the two boys, whom we saw in passing talking with the philosopher. The younger one, who had large black eyes and a timid countenance, tried to stick his body close to his brother, who closely resembled him in features, only his gaze was deeper and his face more determined. Both were poorly dressed, heavily mended and patched. Seated on a piece of wood, each held a rope in his hand, the end of which was lost in the shadows of the third floor. The rain, driven by the wind, reached them and stirred the end of a candle burning on a large stone, which is used to imitate thunder on Good Friday by rolling it through the choir stalls. « Pull your rope, Crispin! » said the eldest to his little brother. He hung on to it, and a faint wail was heard above, instantly drowned by a crash of thunder, echoed a thousand times over. « Ah! If only we were at home now, with Mother! » sighed the little one, looking at his brother; there he would not be afraid. The eldest did not reply; he was watching the wax spilling and seemed worried. « No one there tells me I steal! » added Crispin; « Mother wouldn’t allow it! If she knew they were hitting me… » The eldest looked away from the flame, raised his head, and bit hard on the thick rope, which he tugged violently, emitting a loud vibration. « Are we going to live like this forever, Brother? » continued Crispin. « I wish I were sick tomorrow at home, I wish I had a long illness so that Mother would take care of me and not let me return to the convent! » That way they wouldn’t call me a thief, or beat me! And you too, brother, should have gotten sick with me. « No! » replied the eldest; « we would all die: Mother of grief, and we of hunger. » Crispín didn’t reply. « How much do you earn this month? » he asked after a moment. « Two pesos: they’ve fined me three times.  » « Pay what they say I stole, that way they won’t call us thieves; pay it, brother!  » « Are you crazy, Crispín? Mother wouldn’t have anything to eat; the head sexton says you stole two ounces, and two ounces are thirty-two pesos. » The little one counted on his fingers until he reached thirty-two. « Six hands and two fingers! And each finger a peso, » he murmured afterward thoughtfully. « And each peso… how many cuartos?  » « One hundred and sixty.  » « One hundred and sixty cuartos? One hundred and sixty times a cuarto? Mother! And how many are one hundred and sixty? » “Thirty-two hands,” replied the eldest. Crispin stood for a moment looking at his little hands. “Thirty-two hands!” he repeated; “six hands and two fingers, and each finger thirty-two hands… and each finger a quarter… Mother, how many quarters! You won’t be able to count them in three days… and you can buy slippers for your feet, and a hat for your head when the sun is hot, and a big umbrella when it rains, and food, and clothes for you and Mother and…”
Crispin grew thoughtful. “Now, I’m sorry I didn’t steal! ” “Crispin!” chided his brother, “Don’t be angry! The priest said he would beat me to death if I didn’t appear the money; if I had stolen it, I could make it appear… and if I die, at least you and Mother should have clothes! If I had stolen it! The eldest fell silent and tugged at his rope. Then he replied, sighing: « What I’m afraid of is that Mother will scold you when she finds out!  » « Do you believe it? » asked the little one, surprised. « You must say that they’ve already beaten me badly. I’ll show her my bruises and my personal purse. I only had a quarter they gave me at Easter, and the priest took it from me yesterday. I haven’t seen a finer quarter. Mother won’t believe it, she won’t believe it!  » « If the priest says so… » Crispin began to cry, murmuring between his sobs: « Then go away alone, I don’t want to go; tell Mother that I’m sick; I don’t want to go.  » « Crispin, don’t cry! » said the eldest. « Mother won’t believe it; Don’t cry; old Tasio said a good dinner awaits us… Crispín raised his head and looked at his brother: « A good dinner! I haven’t eaten yet; they won’t feed me until the two ounces appear… But what if Mother believes it? You ‘ll tell her that the head sexton is lying, and the priest who believes him, too, that they all lie; that they say we’re thieves because our father is a vicious man who… » But a head appeared coming out of the bottom of the stairs that led to the main floor, and this head, like Medusa’s, froze the word on the boy’s lips. It was a long, thin head, with long black hair; blue glasses hid a one-eyed eye. It was the head sexton, who usually appeared like this, without noise, without warning. The two brothers remained frozen. « You, Basilio, I’m imposing a fine of two reales for not playing in time! » he said in a hollow voice as if he had no vocal cords. « And you, Crispín, stay tonight until what you stole turns up. » Crispín looked at his brother as if pleading for protection. « We already have permission… Mother is expecting us at eight, » Basilio murmured timidly. « But you’re not leaving at eight either! Not until ten!  » « But, sir, at nine we can’t walk and the house is far away.  » « And you’ll want to send me? » the man asked irritably. And taking Crispín by the arm, he tried to drag him away. « Sir! It’s been a week since we’ve seen our mother! » Basilio pleaded, taking his little brother as if to defend him. The head sexton slapped him away and dragged Crispín away. Crispín began to cry, sinking to the ground as he called to his brother, « Don’t leave me! They’ll kill me! » But the sexton, ignoring him, dragged him down the stairs, disappearing into the shadows. Basilio was left unable to utter a word. He heard his little brother’s body thump against the steps, a scream, several claps, and then those heartbreaking sounds gradually faded away . The boy wasn’t breathing; he stood listening, his eyes wide open, his fists clenched. « When will I be able to plow a field! » he muttered under his breath, and hurried downstairs. When he reached the choir stall, he began to listen attentively; his little brother’s voice was fading rapidly away, and the cry of « Mother! Brother! » was completely extinguished by the closing of a door. Trembling and sweating, he stopped for a moment; he bit his fist to stifle a cry that escaped from his heart and let his gaze wander in the semi-darkness of the church. There the oil lamp burned dimly; the catafalque stood in the middle: the doors were all closed, and the windows had bars. Suddenly he mounted the ladder, passed through the second floor, where the candle was burning, and climbed to the third. He untied the ropes that held the clappers, and then descended again pale, but his eyes shone, and not with tears. Meanwhile, the rain was beginning to cease and the sky was gradually clearing . Basilio knotted the ropes, tied one end to a balustrade, and without remembering to turn off the light, let himself slip into the middle of the darkness. A few minutes later, voices were heard in one of the town’s streets and two shots rang out; but no one was alarmed, and all was silent again. Chapter 16. SISA. The night is dark: the neighbors sleep in silence; the families who have remembered those who have passed away are drifting off to sleep, tranquil and content. They have prayed three parts of the rosary with requiems, the novena for souls, and burned many wax candles before the sacred images. The rich and wealthy have paid their respects to the relatives who had bequeathed them their fortunes; the next day they would hear the three masses said by each priest, give two pesos for another for their intention, and then buy the papal bull for the deceased, full of indulgences. By faith, divine justice does not seem as demanding as human justice. But the poor man, the destitute man who barely earns enough to support himself and has to bribe the ministers, clerks, and soldiers to let him live in peace, does not sleep with the tranquility that court poets believe, who perhaps have not suffered the caresses of misery. The poor man is sad and thoughtful. That night, if he prayed little, he prayed a lot, with pain in his eyes and tears in his heart. He does not have the novenas, nor does he know the ejaculations, the verses, or the oremus that the friars have composed for those who have no ideas or feelings of their own; he does not understand them either. He prays in the language of his misery; his soul weeps for himself and for the dead whose love was his good. His lips may utter greetings, but his mind cries out complaints and utters lamentations. Will you be satisfied, you who blessed poverty, and you tormented shadows, with the simple prayer of the poor, uttered before a badly engraved image, by the light of a timsim [60], or do you perhaps desire candles before bloody Christs, Virgins with small mouths and crystal eyes, the Latin masses, which the priest says mechanically? And you, Religion preached for suffering humanity, have you forgotten your mission to console the oppressed in their misery and to humble the powerful in their pride, and would you now only have promises for the rich, for those who can pay you? The poor widow watches over her children sleeping at her side; she thinks of the bulls she must buy for the repose of her parents and her deceased husband. A peso, she says, a peso is a week of love for my children, a week of laughter and joy, a month’s savings, a dress for my daughter who is becoming a woman… « But it is necessary that you put out these fires, » says the voice she heard preaching; it is necessary that you sacrifice yourself. Yes! It is necessary! The Church does not save your beloved souls for free: it does not distribute free bulls. You must buy it and, instead of sleeping at night, you will work. In the meantime, let your daughter show her modest nakedness; fast, for heaven is expensive! It definitely seems that the poor do not enter heaven! » These thoughts fly through the space that separates the sahig [61], where the humble mat is spread, from the palupu [62] from which hangs the hammock in which the child rocks. His breathing is easy and calm; From time to time he chews his saliva and makes sounds: he dreams of eating his hungry stomach, not satisfied with what his older brothers have given him. The cicadas go on singing monotonously, joining their eternal and continuous note to the trills of the cricket, hidden in the grass, or of the zarandija that comes out of its hole to look for food, while the chacón [63], no longer fearing the water, disturbs the concert with his fateful voice, sticking his head out of the hole of a rotten tree trunk. The dogs bark pitifully in the street, and the superstitious person who listens to them is convinced that animals see spirits and shadows. But neither dogs nor other insects see the sorrows of men, and yet how many there are! Far from the town, about an hour away, lives the mother of Basilio and Crispín, wife of a heartless man, the who tries to live for her children while her husband wanders and plays cock-a-doodle-doo. Their interviews are rare, but always painful. He has been stripping her of her few jewels to feed his vices, and when the long-suffering Sisa [64] no longer possessed anything to sustain her husband’s whims , he began to mistreat her. Weak of character, with more heart than brain, she only knew how to love and weep. For her, her husband was her God; her children were her angels. He, who knew to what extent he was adored and feared, behaved like all false gods; every day he grew more cruel, inhuman, and willful. When Sisa consulted him, once she saw his face more somber than ever, about his plan to make Basilio sacristan, he continued to stroke the cock, said neither yes nor no, and only asked if he would earn much money. She did not dare to insist; But her difficult situation and her desire for the children to learn to read and write in the village school compelled her to carry out the project. Her husband also said nothing. That night, around ten-thirty or eleven, when the stars were already shining in the sky, which the storm had cleared, Sisa was sitting on a wooden bench, looking at some branches half-burning in her hearth, made of more or less angular living stones. On one of these tripods, or tunkô, there was a small pot in which she was cooking rice, and on the embers were three dried sardines, three and a half of which are sold. She rested her chin on the palm of her hand, looking at the weak, yellowish flame given off by the reed, whose fleeting embers soon turned to ash; a sad smile lit her face. She remembered the amusing riddle about the pot and the fire, which Crispín once proposed to her . The boy said: Naupú si Maitim, sinulut ni Mapulá Nang malaó y kumara kará [65]. She was still young and it was known that she must have been beautiful and graceful at one time. Her eyes, which she, like her soul, gave to her children, were beautiful, with long eyelashes and a deep gaze; her nose was correct; her pale lips, of a graceful design. She was what the Tagalogs call kayumanging kaligatan, that is, dark, but of a clear and pure color. However, due to her youth, pain, or perhaps hunger, is beginning to undermine her pale cheeks, and her abundant hair, once a symbol and adornment of her person, is still dressed not out of coquetry but out of habit: a very simple bun without needles or combs. She had been several days without leaving the house, sewing a project that she had been asked to complete as quickly as possible. In order to earn money, she skipped Mass that morning, as it would have taken at least two hours to travel to the village: « Poverty compels one to sin! » Her work done, she took it to the owner, but he only promised to pay. All day she thought about the pleasures of the evening: she knew her children were coming, and she thought of giving them gifts. She bought sardines, picked the most beautiful tomatoes from her little garden, because she knew they were Crispín’s favorite food ; she asked her neighbor, the philosopher Tasio, who lived half a kilometer away, for a wild boar’s cap and a leg of wild duck, Basilio’s favorite morsels. And full of hope, she cooked the whitest rice, which she herself had gathered from the threshing floors. It was, in fact, a priest’s dinner for the poor children. But by an unfortunate chance, her husband came and ate the rice, the wild boar’s cap, the duck’s leg, five sardines, and the tomatoes. Sisa said nothing, although it seemed to her that she was being eaten . Having had enough, he remembered to ask about the children; then Sisa was able to smile and, content, she secretly promised not to have dinner that night, since what was left wasn’t enough for three. The father asked about his children, and this was more than just food to her. Then he took his rooster and wanted to leave. « Don’t you want to see them? » she asked tremblingly. « Old Tasio told me they’d be a little late; Crispín is already reading, and… perhaps Basilio will bring his salary! » At this last reason, the husband stopped, hesitated, but his words triumphed. Good angel. « In that case, save me a peso! » she said, and left. Sisa wept bitterly, but remembered her children and dried her tears. She cooked new rice and prepared the three sardines that were left: each one would have one and a half. « They’ll bring a good appetite! » she thought; « the road is long and hungry stomachs have no heart. » Attentive to every sound, we found her listening to the slightest footsteps; strong and clear, Basilio; light and uneven, Crispín, she thought. The kalao [66] sang in the forest two or three times now, since the rain had stopped, and yet her children still hadn’t arrived. She put the sardines back in the pot so they wouldn’t get cold and approached the threshold of the hut to look toward the road. In order to distract herself, she began to sing in a low voice. She had a beautiful voice, and when her children heard her sing kundiman [67] they cried without knowing why. But that night her voice trembled, and the notes came out sluggishly. She stopped singing and gazed into the darkness. No one came from the village, except for the wind that made the water fall from the broad banana leaves. Suddenly she saw a Black Person dog appear in front of her; the animal was tracking something on the path. Sisa was afraid, picked up a stone, and threw it at it. The dog ran away howling mournfully. Sisa was not superstitious, but she had heard so much about premonitions and Black Person dogs that terror seized her. She hurriedly closed the door and sat down next to the light. Night favors beliefs, and imagination fills the air with specters. She tried to pray, to invoke the Virgin, to invoke God to take care of her children, especially her little Crispin. And absentmindedly she forgot her prayer in order to think only of them, remembering each one’s features , those features that smile at her continually, whether in dreams or when awake. But suddenly she felt her hair stand on end, her eyes opened wide; dream or reality, she saw Crispin standing beside the hearth, there where he used to sit and chat with her. Now he said nothing; he looked at her with those large, thoughtful eyes, and smiled. « Mother, open up! Open up, Mother! » said Basilio’s voice from outside. Sisa shuddered violently, and the vision disappeared. Chapter 17. Basilio. Life is a dream. Basilio barely managed to enter and, staggering, threw himself into his mother’s arms. An inexplicable chill seized Sisa when she saw him arrive alone. She wanted to speak, but found no sound; she wanted to embrace her son, but found no strength either; crying was impossible. But at the sight of the blood bathing the child’s forehead, she was able to cry with that accent that seems to announce the breaking of a heartstring: « My children!  » « Fear nothing, Mother! » Basilio answered. « Crispín has stayed at the convent.  » « At the convent? Has he stayed at the convent? Is he alive? » The child raised his eyes to her. « Ah! » he exclaimed, passing from the greatest anguish to the greatest joy. Sisa wept, embraced her son, covering his bleeding forehead with kisses. « Crispín is alive! You left him at the convent… and why are you hurt, my son? Have you fallen? » And she examined him carefully. « The head sexton, when he took Crispín away, told me I couldn’t leave until ten, and since it was very late, I ran away. In the village, the soldiers shouted at me, ‘Who’s alive?’ I started to run, they fired, and a bullet grazed my forehead. I was afraid they would catch me and make me scrub the barracks with clubs like they did to Pablo, who is still sick.  » « My God, my God! » the mother murmured, shuddering. « You saved him! » And she added, while she looked for cloths, water, vinegar, and heron’s down: « One more finger and they’ll kill you, they’ll kill my son! The Civil Guards don’t think about mothers!  » « You’ll say I fell out of a tree; don’t let anyone know I was persecuted.  » « Why did Crispín stay? » Sisa asked, after she had treated her son. He looked at her for a few moments, then, embracing her, he told her little by little about the ounces; however, he did not mention the tortures they made his little brother suffer. Mother and son mingled in their tears. “My good Crispin! To accuse my good Crispin! It’s because we are poor, and we poor people have to suffer everything!” murmured Sisa, looking with tearful eyes at the tinhoy [68], whose oil was running out. Thus they remained for some time in silence. “Have you had supper yet? Have you not? There are rice and dried sardines. ” “I don’t want any; water, I just want water. ” “Yes!” replied the mother sadly. “I knew you didn’t like dried sardines; I had prepared something else for you, but your father came, my poor boy!” « Did Father come? » asked Basil, instinctively examining his mother’s face and hands. The son’s question made Sisa’s heart ache, and she understood only too well, so she hastened to add: « He came and asked a lot about you, he wanted to see you; he was very hungry. He said that if you continued to be good, he would come back to us.  » « Ah! » interrupted Basil, and his lips contracted with disgust. « Son! » she chided him. « Forgive me, mother! » she replied seriously. « Aren’t we three better off, you, Crispin, and I? But you’re crying; I didn’t say anything.  » Sisa sighed. « Aren’t you having supper? Then let’s go to bed, it’s already late. » Sisa closed the hut and covered the few embers with ashes so they wouldn’t go out, as man does with the feelings of the soul: covering them with the ashes of life they call indifference, so they won’t be extinguished by the daily contact with our fellow human beings. Basilio murmured his prayers and lay down next to his mother, who was kneeling in prayer. He felt hot and cold; he tried to close his eyes, thinking of his little brother, who that night had been dreaming of sleeping on his mother’s lap, and now would be crying and trembling with fear in a dark corner of the convent. His ears echoed those cries, just as he had heard them in the tower, but weary nature began to confuse his thoughts, and the spirit of dreams descended upon his eyes. He saw an alcove where two candles were burning. The priest, holding the vine in his hand, listened gloomily to the head sexton, who spoke to him in a strange language, with horrible gestures. Crispín trembled and turned his tearful eyes in every direction, as if searching for someone or a hiding place. The priest turned to him and spoke angrily, and the vine whistled. The child ran to hide behind the sexton, but the latter caught him, held him, and offered him up to the priest’s fury. The unfortunate boy struggled, kicked, screamed, threw himself to the ground, rolled, got up, fled, slipped, fell, and parried the blows with his hands, which, wounded, he hid loudly , howling . Basilio saw him writhing, beating his head on the ground, saw and heard the vine whistle! His little brother got up in despair; mad with pain, he threw himself at his tormentors and bit the priest’s hand. The priest let out a scream, dropped the vine, and The head sexton takes a stick, hits him on the head, and the boy falls stunned; the priest, seeing himself wounded, kicks him, but he no longer defends himself, no longer cries: he rolls on the ground like an inert mass and leaves a wet trail [69]… Sisa’s voice brought him back to reality. « What’s the matter? Why are you crying? » « I dreamed!… My God! » exclaimed Basilio, sitting up covered in sweat. « It was a dream, tell me, Mother, it was only a dream, just a dream!  » « What did you dream? » The boy didn’t answer. He sat down to wipe away his tears and sweat. The hut was completely dark. « A dream, a dream! » repeated Basilio in a low voice. « Tell me what you dreamed; I can’t sleep! » said the mother when her son went back to bed. « Well, » he said in a low voice, « I dreamed that we went to pick ears of corn… in a field where there were many flowers… the women had baskets full of ears of corn… the men also had baskets full of ears of corn… and the children too… I don’t remember anything else, mother, I don’t remember the rest! Sisa didn’t insist; she paid no attention to dreams. « Mother, I made a plan last night, » Basilio said after a few minutes of silence. « What plan? » she asked. Sisa, humble in all things, was humble even with her children; she believed them to be more sensible than herself. « I wouldn’t want to be a sacristan anymore!  » « What?  » « Listen, Mother, to what I’ve been thinking. Today the son of the late Don Rafael arrived from Spain , and he will be as good as his father. Well then, Mother, tomorrow you take Crispín out, collect my salary, and say I will no longer be a sacristan. As soon as I get better, I will go to Don Crisóstomo and beg him to admit me as a herder of cows or carabaos: I am old enough now. Crispín can learn at old Tasio’s house, who is not good and is good, even if the priest doesn’t believe it . » What do we have to fear from Father now? Can he make us poorer than we are? Believe it, Mother, the old man is good; I ‘ve seen him several times in church when no one is there; he kneels and prays, believe it. So, Mother, I’ll stop being a sexton; one earns little, and even what one earns goes to fines. Everyone complains about the same thing. I’ll be a shepherd, and by taking good care of what’s entrusted to me, I’ll endear myself to the owner. Perhaps they’ll let us milk a cow for milk; Crispin loves milk very much. Who knows! Perhaps they’ll give you a calf if they see I’m good; we’ll take care of it and fatten it up like our hen. In the forest, I’ll pick fruit and sell it in town along with the vegetables from our garden, and that way we’ll have money. I’ll set snares and traps to catch birds and wild cats, I’ll fish in the river, and when I’m older, I’ll hunt. I can also cut firewood to sell or give to the owner of the cows, and that way we’ll keep him happy. When I can plow, I’ll ask him to entrust me with a piece of land to plant sugarcane or corn, and you won’t have to sew until midnight. We’ll have new clothes every holiday, we’ll eat meat and large fish. In the meantime, I’ll live free; we’ll see each other every day and eat together. And since old Tasio says Crispín has a lot of wit, we’ll send him to Manila to study. I’ll keep him working, right, Mother? And he’ll be a doctor, what do you say? « What should I say? Yes! » Sisa replied, embracing her son. She had noticed that her son didn’t count on his father for the future, and she wept silent tears. Basilio continued talking about his plans with the confidence of old age, which sees only what one wants to see. Sisa said yes to everything; everything seemed good to her. Sleep slowly descended again upon the child’s tired eyelids, and this time the Ole Luköie of whom Andersen speaks unfurled his beautiful umbrella over him, full of joyful pictures. He could already see a shepherd with his little brother; they picked guavas, alpay [70] and other fruits in the forest; they walked from branch to branch, light as butterflies; they entered the caves and saw that the walls shone; they bathed in the springs, and the sand was like gold dust, and the stones like the stones in the Virgin’s crown. The little fish sang and laughed to them, the plants bowed their branches, laden with coins and fruit. Then he saw a bell hanging from a tree, and a long rope to ring it. A cow was tied to the rope with a bird’s nest between its antlers, and Crispín was inside the bell, etc. And so he dreamed. But his mother, who was not his age and had not run for an hour, did not sleep. Chapter 18. Souls in Pain. It was about seven in the morning when Friar Salví finished saying his last Mass: all three were offered in the space of an hour. « The father is ill, » said the devotees; « he does not move with his usual slowness and elegance.  » He removed his garments without saying a word, without looking at anyone, without making a single observation. « Attention! » whispered the sacristans; « the drill is progressing! Fines are going to rain down, and all because of the two brothers! » He left the sacristy to go up to the parish house, where seven or eight women and a man were waiting for him, sitting on the pews in the vestibule, pacing up and down. Seeing him coming, they stood up. A woman came forward to kiss his hand, but the priest made such an impatient gesture that he stopped her in her tracks. « Has he lost a Kuriput coin? » [71] exclaimed the woman with a mocking laugh , offended by such a welcome. « Sister Rufa, the guardian of the Brotherhood, shouldn’t be allowed to kiss her hand ! » This was unheard of. « This morning he didn’t sit in the confessional! » added Sister Sipa, an old woman with no teeth. « I wanted to go to confession to receive communion and gain indulgences. » « Well, I pity you! » replied a young woman of candid countenance; « this week I won three plenary sessions, and I dedicated them to the soul of my husband.  » « Wrong, Sister Juana! » said the offended Rufa. « One plenary session was enough to get him out of Purgatory; you must not waste the holy indulgences; do as I do.  » « I said: the more, the better! » replied the simple Sister Juana, smiling. « But tell me, what are you doing? » Sister Rufa did not reply immediately: first she asked for a buyo, chewed it, looked at her audience who were listening attentively, spat to one side, and began while chewing tobacco: « I don’t waste a single holy day! Since I have belonged to the Sisterhood, I have won 457 plenary indulgences, 760,598 years of indulgences. » I write down all the ones I win, because I like to keep clean accounts; I don’t want to cheat, nor be cheated. Sister Rufa paused and continued chewing; the women looked at her with admiration, but the man who was strolling by stopped and said a little disdainfully: « Well, this year alone, I’ve won four more plenaries than you, Sister Rufa, and a hundred more years, and that’s even though I haven’t prayed much this year.  » « More than me? More than 689 plenaries out of 994,856 years? » repeated Sister Rufa, somewhat annoyed. « That’s right, eight more plenaries and a hundred and fifteen more years, and in just a few months, » repeated the man, around whose neck hung dirty scapulars and rosaries. « No wonder, » said Rufa, giving up; « you are the master and the leader in the province!  » He smiled flatteringly. « It’s no wonder I earn more than you, indeed; I can almost say that even in my sleep I gain indulgences.  » « And what do you do with them, Master? » four or five voices asked at once. « Psh! » the man replied, making a grimace of supreme contempt; « I throw them here and there!  » « Well, I can’t praise you for that, Master! » protested La Rufa. « You’ll go to purgatory for wasting indulgences! You know that for every useless word, you suffer forty days of fire, according to the priest; for every hand’s breadth of thread, sixty; for every drop of water, twenty. You’re going to purgatory!  » « I’ll know how to get out of it! » Brother Pedro answered with sublime confidence . « I’ve pulled so many souls out of the fire! I’ve made so many saints! » And besides, in articulo mortis I can still earn, if I wish, at least seven plenary sessions, and I will be able to save others by dying! And with that, he proudly walked away. « However, you should do what I do, for I never waste a day and I keep my accounts well. I don’t want to cheat or be cheated!  » « What are you doing? » asked Joan. « Well, you should imitate what I do. For example: suppose I earn a year of indulgences, I write it down in my notebook and say: Blessed Father, Lord Saint Dominic, please see if there is anyone in purgatory who needs exactly one year, not one day more or one day less. » I toss heads or tails; if heads, no; if tails, yes. Well, suppose tails, then I write: Collected; if heads? then I retain the indulgence, and in this way I make little groups of one hundred years that I have carefully noted. It’s a shame you can’t do with them what you can with money: give them at interest; more souls could be saved. Believe me, do what I do. « Well, I do something better! » Sister Sipa replied. « What? Better? » asked Rufa, surprised. « It can’t be! What I do is unbeatable!  » « Listen for a moment and you’ll see, sister! » replied old Sipa in a sour tone. « Let’s see, let’s see! Let’s hear it! » said the others. After coughing ceremoniously, the old woman spoke in this way: « You know very well that by praying the Blessed be your Purity, and the Lord Jesus Christ, my Father most sweet for joy, you gain ten years for each letter…  » « Twenty! » « No, less! » « Five! » said several voices. « One more, one less, it doesn’t matter! Now; when a servant or a maid breaks a plate, glass, or cup, etc. , I make him pick up all the pieces, and for each one, even the smallest, he has to pray to me, Blessed be your Purity and My Lord Jesus Christ, Father most sweet for joy, and the indulgences I gain I dedicate to souls. Everyone at home knows this, except the cats. « But these indulgences are earned by the maids, not you, Sister Sipa, » objects Rufa. « And who pays for my cups and plates? They are happy to pay for them this way, and so am I; I don’t hit them, just the occasional smack or pinch…  » « I’ll imitate you! » « I’ll do the same! » « And me! » the women said. « But if the plate has only been broken into two or three pieces, you earn little! » still stubborn Rufa observes. « Bah! » replies old Sipa, « I make them pray too, I strain the pieces, and we lose nothing.  » Sister Rufa no longer knew what to object. « Allow me to submit a doubt to you, » says young Juana timidly. « You ladies understand these things of heaven, purgatory, and hell so well… I confess I am ignorant.  » « Speak! » I often find this instruction in novenas and other books: Three Our Fathers, three Hail Marys, and three Glorias…  » « Well? » « Well, I wanted to know how to pray them; or three Our Fathers in a row, three Hail Marys in a row, and three Glorias in a row, or three times, one Our Father, one Hail Mary, and one Gloria? » « Well, that’s right, three times an Our Father…  » « Forgive me, Sister Sipa! » interrupts Rufa; « they should be prayed the other way around: males shouldn’t be mixed with females: Our Fathers are male, Hail Marys are female, and Glorias are children.  » « Hey! Forgive me, Sister Rufa; Our Father, Hail Mary, and Gloria are like rice, meat, and sauce, a morsel from the saints…  » « You’re wrong! Just see, you who pray like that never get what you ask for.  » « And because you pray like that, you get nothing from your novenas! » replies old Sipa. « Who? » says Rufa, standing up; « recently I lost a little pig, I prayed to Saint Anthony, and I found it, and so much so that I sold it for a good price…  » « Yes? » « That’s why your neighbor said you sold one of her piglets!  » « Who? The scoundrel! Am I like you? » The teacher had to intervene to make peace: no one remembered the Our Fathers anymore; all they talked about was pigs. « Come on, come on, there’s no need to quarrel over a piglet, sisters! The Holy Scriptures give us an example: heretics and Protestants have not scolded Our Lord Jesus Christ, who threw a herd of pigs that belonged to them into the water, and we, who are Christians and also Brothers of the Most Holy Rosary, should we quarrel over a piglet? What would our rivals, the Third Brothers, say about us? » They all fell silent, admiring the profound wisdom of the teacher and fearing what the Third Brothers would say. The former, satisfied with such obedience, changed his tone and continued: « The priest will soon call us. » We must tell him which preacher we should choose from the three he proposed yesterday: Father Dámaso, Father Martín, or the assistant priest. I don’t know if they’ve already chosen the Thirds; it’s necessary to decide. « The assistant priest… » Juana murmurs timidly. « Hmm! The assistant priest doesn’t know how to preach! » says Sipa; « Father Martín is better .  » « Father Martín? » another exclaims disdainfully; « he has no voice: better It’s Father Dámaso. « That’s him, that’s the one! » exclaimed Rufa. « Father Dámaso sure knows how to preach! He sounds like a comedian!  » « But we can’t understand him! » murmured Juana. « Because he’s very profound! And as long as he preaches well… » At this point, Sisa arrived, carrying a basket on her head, said good morning to the women, and went upstairs. « That one’s coming up! Let’s go up too! » they said. Sisa felt her heart beating violently as she went upstairs : she didn’t know what she was going to say to the father to calm his anger or what reasons she was going to give him to defend her son. That morning, at the first light of dawn, she had gone down to the garden to pick her most beautiful vegetables, which she placed in a basket among the banana leaves and flowers. She went to the riverbank to look for pako [72], which she knew the priest liked to eat in salad. She dressed in her best clothes, and with the basket on her head, without waking her son, she left for the village. Trying to make as little noise as possible, she climbed the stairs slowly, listening attentively in case she heard a familiar, fresh, childish voice. But she didn’t hear anyone, and she went to the kitchen. There she looked in every corner: servants and sacristans received her coldly. She greeted them and they barely answered. « Where can I leave these vegetables? » she asked, not seeming offended. « There… anywhere! » the cook replied , barely looking at them, intent on his task: he was plucking a capon. Sisa arranged the eggplants, bittersweet mushrooms, patolas, zarzalida, and tender bunches of pako [73] in order on the table. Then she put the flowers on top, half smiled, and asked a servant, who seemed more sociable than the cook: « May I speak to the priest?  » « He’s sick, » the latter answered in a low voice. « And Crispín? Do you know if he’s in the vestry?  » The servant looked at her in surprise. « Crispín? » he asked, frowning. « Isn’t he at your house? Do you want to deny it?  » « Basilio is at home, but Crispín has stayed here, » replied Sisa; « I want to see him…  » « Yes! » said the servant; « he stayed, but then… then he ran away, stealing many things. The priest sent me early this morning to the barracks to inform the Civil Guard. They must have already gone to your house to look for the boys.  » Sisa covered her ears, opened her mouth, but her lips moved in vain: not a sound came out. « What children you have! » added the cook. « You are known to be a faithful wife: the children have turned out just like their father! Be careful , the little one will surpass him!  » Sisa burst into bitter tears, sinking down on a bench. « Don’t cry here! » cried the cook. « Don’t you know that the father is ill? Go and weep in the street. » The poor woman almost pushed herself down the stairs, at the same time as the sisters, who were murmuring and conjecturing about the priest’s illness. The unfortunate mother hid her face with her handkerchief and suppressed her tears. When she reached the street, she looked around uncertainly, and then, as if she had made up her mind, she quickly walked away. Chapter 19. ADVENTURES OF A SCHOOLMASTER The common people are foolish, and since they pay for it, it is right To speak to them in foolish ways to please them. (Lope de Vega). The lake, surrounded by its mountains, sleeps peacefully with the hypocrisy of the elements, as if the previous night had not joined in the chorus of the storm. At the first reflections of light, which awaken the phosphorescent spirits in the waters, brownish silhouettes are drawn in the distance, almost at the edge of the horizon: they are the benches of the fishermen who are collecting their nets; helmets and paraos [74] who stretch their sails. Two men, dressed in strict mourning, silently contemplate the water from a height: one of them is Ibarra and the other is a young man of humble appearance and melancholic physiognomy. « This is it! » said the latter; « this is where the corpse of his father was thrown. » Father. Here the gravedigger led Lieutenant Guevara and me! Ibarra shook the young man’s hand effusively. « You don’t have to thank me! » the latter replied. « I owed your father many favors, and the only one I did was accompany him to the grave. He had come without knowing anyone, without recommendations, without a name, without fortune, as he is now. My predecessor had abandoned school to dedicate himself to selling tobacco. Your father protected me, found me a house, and provided me with whatever I might need for the advancement of my education. He went to school and distributed a few coins to the poor and diligent boys, providing them with books and papers. But this, like all good things, lasted very little! Ibarra uncovered his head and seemed to pray for a long time. Then he turned to his companion and said: « You said that my father helped the poor boys. And now? » « Now they do their best and write when they can, » the young man replied. « Why?  » « The cause is in their personae, their shirts, and their ashamed eyes.  » Ibarra remained silent. « How many students do you have now? » he asked with some interest. « More than two hundred on the roll, and in the twenty-fifth class.  » « How is that? » The schoolmaster smiled melancholically and exclaimed: « To tell you the reasons is to tell you a long and tedious story.  » « Do not attribute my question to idle curiosity, » Ibarra replied gravely, looking at the distant horizon. « I have reflected more deeply, and I believe that realizing my father’s thoughts is worth more than mourning him, much more than avenging him. His tomb is sacred Nature, and his enemies have been the people and a priest: I forgive the former for his ignorance, and I respect the latter for his character, and because I want the religion that educated society to be respected. » I wish to be inspired by the spirit of the One who gave me life, and for this reason I would like to know the obstacles that teaching encounters here. « The country, » said the teacher, « will bless your memory if you fulfill the beautiful intentions of your late father. Do you wish to know the obstacles that teaching encounters? Well, in the circumstances in which we find ourselves, without a powerful support, teaching will never be a reality; first, because in childhood there is no incentive or stimulus, and second, because even if there were, they are killed by a lack of means and many worries. They say that in Germany the child of a peasant studies eight years in the village school; who would want to spend half that time here, when such meager fruits are reaped? They read, write, and memorize passages and sometimes entire books in Spanish, without understanding a word of them. What use does the child of our villagers get from school?  » « And you, who sees the evil, why haven’t you thought of remedying it? » « Alas! » he replied, shaking his head sadly. « A poor teacher, alone, cannot fight against worries, against certain influences. Above all, he would need a school, a place, and not like now, where I teach next to the priest’s carriage, beneath the convent. There, the children who like to read aloud naturally annoy the priest, who sometimes comes down agitated, especially when he has his fits. He shouts at them and sometimes insults me . You will understand that this is neither how to teach nor how to learn; the child does not respect the teacher from the moment he sees him mistreated without asserting his rights. The teacher, to be heard, to have his authority not questioned, needs prestige, a good name, moral strength, a certain freedom, and allow me to tell you about the sad details. I have tried to introduce reforms, and they have laughed at me.  » To remedy this evil I was speaking of, I tried to teach the children Spanish, because not only was it mandated by the Government, but I judged it would also be advantageous to everyone. I used the simplest method, using phrases and nouns, without resorting to complicated rules, hoping to teach them grammar when they already understood the language. After a few weeks, the cleverest ones almost understood me. and they were composing a few sentences. The teacher paused and seemed to hesitate; then, as if he had made up his mind, he continued: « I mustn’t be ashamed of the story of my grievances; anyone in my place would have behaved the same. As I said, I was starting out well; but a few days later, Father Dámaso, the priest at the time, had the head sacristan summon me. Since I knew his character and was afraid to keep him waiting, I went up immediately, greeted him, and said good morning in Spanish. He, who, by way of greeting, extended his hand for me to kiss, withdrew it and, without answering, began to laugh uproariously, mockingly. I was disconcerted; the head sacristan was standing before me. At first, I didn’t know what to say; I stared at him, but he continued laughing. I was already growing impatient and saw that I was about to commit an imprudence, since being a good Christian and being worthy at the same time are not incompatible things. » I was about to ask him a question when, suddenly, passing from laughter to insult, he said sarcastically,  » Good morning, what? Good morning! Funny! Now you know how to speak Spanish! » And he continued laughing. Ibarra couldn’t suppress a smile. « You’re laughing, » replied the teacher, laughing too; « I confess that at the time I didn’t feel like laughing. I was standing; I felt the blood rush to my head, and a flash of lightning darkened my brain. I saw the priest far away, very far away; I went up to him to reply, not knowing what I was going to say. The head sexton intervened; he stood up and said to me seriously in Tagalog: « Don’t use borrowed clothes; be content to speak your own language and don’t spoil my Spanish, for it’s not for you. » Do you know Teacher Ciruela? Well, Ciruela was a teacher who couldn’t read and who ran a school. I wanted to stop him, but he went into his room and slammed the door shut. What could I do? I barely had enough to live on my salary, and to collect it I needed the priest’s approval and a trip to the provincial capital. What could I do against him, the highest moral, political, and civil authority in a town, supported by its Corporation, feared by the government, rich, powerful, consulted, listened to, believed, and heeded by all? If he insults me, I must remain silent. If I reply, I will be thrown out of my position, losing my career forever. And I wouldn’t win the teaching job for that. On the contrary, everyone would side with the priest, they would abhor me and call me vain, proud, arrogant, a bad Christian, ill-mannered, and, if not, an anti-Spanish and a filibuster. No knowledge or zeal is expected from a schoolteacher; All that is asked of you is resignation, humiliation, inertia, and God forgive me if I have renounced my conscience and reason, but I was born in this country, I have to live, I have a mother, and I abandon myself to my fate like a corpse dragged by the wave. « And because of this obstacle, you have become forever discouraged? And is this how you have lived since?  » « I wish I had learned my lesson! » he replied;  » my misfortunes would have been limited to that! It is true that from then on I developed an aversion to my career; I thought of looking for another trade like my predecessor, because work, when done reluctantly and with shame, is a martyrdom, and because school reminded me every day of my disgrace, making me spend very bitter hours. But what could I do? I could not disabuse my mother; I had to tell her that her three years of sacrifice to give me this career now make me happy; It is necessary to make him believe that the profession is most honorable, the work delightful, the path strewn with flowers; that the fulfillment of my duty only brings me friendships; that the people respect me and shower me with consideration; otherwise, without ceasing to be unhappy, I would commit another unfortunate act, which besides being useless is a sin. I remained at my post and did not want to lose heart: I tried to fight. The schoolmaster paused briefly and then continued: « From the day I was so grossly insulted, I examined myself and found myself very ignorant indeed. I began to study Spanish day and night and everything related to my career; An old philosopher lent me some books, I read everything I could find, and analyzed everything I read. With the new ideas I acquired from one side and the other, my point of view changed, and I saw many things in a different light than before. I saw errors where before I saw only truths, and truths in many things that seemed to me to be errors. Spanking, for example, which from time immemorial had been the hallmark of schools, and which formerly was considered the only effective means of teaching—so we had been accustomed to believe— later seemed to me that, far from contributing to the child’s progress, it rendered him considerably useless. I became convinced that it was impossible to reason with the cane or the disciplines in plain sight; fear and terror disturb even the calmest person, and besides, a child’s imagination is more vivid and more impressionable. And since, for ideas to be imprinted in the brain, it is necessary for there to be calm, both externally and internally, serenity of spirit, material and moral tranquility, and good cheer, I believed that above all I should instill in children confidence, security, and self-esteem. I also understood that the daily spectacle of whipping killed compassion in the heart and extinguished that flame of dignity, the lever of the world, losing with it the shame that now only rarely returns. I have also observed that when someone is whipped, they find consolation in seeing others whipped in turn, and smile with satisfaction upon hearing the cries of others. And the one in charge of whipping, although they obey the first day with reluctance, later grows accustomed to it and finds delight in their sad mission. The past horrified me; I wanted to save the present by modifying the old system. I tried to make studying pleasant and cheerful. I wanted to make the primer not the tear-soaked, black-faced little book of childhood, but a friend who will reveal marvelous secrets; I wanted to make the school not a place of sorrow, but a place of intellectual recreation. So, little by little, I eliminated the spanking, brought the discipline home, and replaced it with emulation and self-esteem. If a lesson was neglected, I attributed it to a lack of will, never to a lack of ability. I made them believe they had better dispositions than they actually had, and this belief, which I sought to confirm, compelled them to study, just as confidence leads to heroism. At first, it seemed that changing the method was impractical: many stopped studying; but I continued and noticed that little by little, spirits were lifted, more children attended, and more frequently; and whoever was once praised in front of everyone, learned twice as much the next day. It soon spread throughout the town that I didn’t hit; the priest summoned me, and fearing another scene, I greeted him curtly in Tagalog. This time he was very serious with me. He told me that I was spoiling the children, that I was wasting my time, that I wasn’t doing my duty, that a father who forgave the beating hated his son, according to the Holy Spirit, that a letter enters with blood, etc., etc.; he brought me a number of sayings from barbarian times, as if it were enough for something to have been said by the ancients to be indisputable; according to this, we should believe that the monsters those ages created and sculpted in their palaces and cathedrals really existed . In short, he recommended that I be diligent and return to the old system, otherwise he would report me to the mayor. My misfortune did not end there: days later, the boys’ parents appeared outside the convent , and I had to summon all my patience and resignation to my aid. They began by praising me for the old days when teachers had character and taught as their grandparents had taught. « Those were truly wise! » they said; those who glued and straightened the crooked tree. Those were not young, they were old men of much experience, gray-haired and severe! Don Catalino, the king of them all and founder of that school, never gave less than twenty-five. sticks, and that’s why he produced wise sons and priests. Ah! The ancients were worth more than us, yes, sir, more than us. Others were not content with these crude hints; they told me plainly that if I followed my system, their children would learn nothing and that they would be forced to withdraw from school. It was useless to reason with them: as a young man, they didn’t give much credit to me. What I would have given to have gray hair! They quoted the authority of the priest, of So-and-so, of So-and-so, and they quoted themselves, saying that if it hadn’t been for the floggings of their teachers, they would have learned nothing. The sympathy shown me by some people somewhat sweetened the bitterness of this disappointment. In view of this, I had to renounce a system which, after much labor, was beginning to bear fruit. In despair, I took the floggings to school the next day and began my barbaric task anew . Serenity disappeared and sadness returned to the faces of the children, who were already beginning to love me: they were my only acquaintances, my only friends. Although I tried to spare the spankings and administer them as leniently as possible, the children nevertheless felt deeply hurt, demeaned, and wept bitterly. This touched my heart, and although I was inwardly irritated with their stupid families, I couldn’t take revenge on those innocent victims of their parents’ worries. Their tears burned me; my heart was sore in my chest, and that day I left class before time and went home to cry alone… Perhaps you find my sensitivity strange, but if you were in my place, you would understand. Old Don Anastasio said to me: « Do parents ask for spankings? Why didn’t you give them one? » As a result, I fell ill. Ibarra listened thoughtfully. –As soon as I recovered, I returned to school and found my students reduced to a fifth. The best had deserted with the return of the old system, and of those who remained, a few who had gone to school to escape domestic labor, none expressed joy, none congratulated me on my recovery. It was all the same to them whether I recovered or not; perhaps they would have preferred that I had remained ill, because the substitute, although he was more effective, rarely went to class. My other students, those whose parents managed to force to go to school, went off on excursions elsewhere. They blamed me for having spoiled them and showered me with recriminations. One, however, the son of a peasant woman who visited me during my illness, did not return because he had become a sexton. The head sexton says that sextons should not attend school: they would debase themselves. « And did you resign yourself to your new students? » Ibarra asked. « Could you have done anything else? » he replied. « However, since many things had happened during my illness, we changed priests. I conceived a new hope and tried to introduce another test so that the children wouldn’t waste their time completely and would make the most of their whipping; that at least those shameful acts would bear some fruit for them, I thought. I wanted to ensure, since they couldn’t love me now, that at least by preserving something useful from me, they would remember me later with less bitterness. You already know that in most schools the books are in Spanish, with the exception of the Tagalog Catechism, which varies according to the religious group to which the priest belongs. These books are usually novenas, trisagions, and Father Astete’s catechism, from which they derive as much pity as from the books of heretics. » Since it was impossible to teach them Spanish or translate so many books, I have tried to replace them little by little with short excerpts taken from useful Tagalog works, such as the Treatise on Urbanity by Hortensio y Feliza, some small agricultural manuals, etc., etc. Sometimes I myself translated small works such as the History of the Philippines by Father Barranera and dictated them afterwards, so that they could compile them in notebooks, sometimes adding to them with their own observations. Since I had no maps to teach them Geography, I copied one of the province that I saw it in the chancel, and with this reproduction and the floor tiles, I gave them some ideas of the country. This time it was the women who got excited; the men contented themselves with smiling, seeing in it one of my follies. The new priest called me, and although he didn’t reprimand me, he told me that I should first take care of religion, and that before teaching these things, the children should prove in an examination that they know the Mysteries, the Trisagion, and the Catechism of Christian Doctrine by heart. In the meantime, then, I’m working to make the children become parrots and be able to memorize so many things of which they don’t understand a single word. Many already know the Mysteries and the Trisagion, but I’m afraid my efforts won’t come to nothing with Father Astete, since most of my students still don’t distinguish very well between questions and answers and what the two can mean. And so we shall die, and so shall those yet to be born, and in Europe there will be talk of Progress! « Let us not be so pessimistic! » replied Ibarra, rising. « The chief lieutenant has sent me an invitation to attend a meeting at the tribunal… Who knows if you will have an answer to your questions there? » The maestro also rose, but shaking his head in a sign of doubt, replied: « You’ll see how that project they told me about remains like mine! And if not, let’s see it! » Chapter 20. THE MEETING AT THE TRIBUNAL [75] It was a room twelve to fifteen meters long by eight to ten wide. Its walls, whitewashed, were covered with charcoal drawings, more or less ugly, more or less indecent, with inscriptions that completed their meaning. In a corner, neatly placed against the wall, were about ten old flintlock rifles among the rusty sabers, rapiers, and talibones: this was the armament of the squadrons [76]. At one end of the room, adorned with dirty red curtains, hung a portrait of His Majesty; beneath the portrait, on a wooden platform, an old armchair spread its tattered arms; in front of it, a large wooden table, stained with ink, pitted , and carved with inscriptions and monograms, like many tables in German taverns frequented by students. Rickety benches and chairs completed the furnishings. This is the session room, the tribunal, the torture room, etc. Here the authorities of the town and the neighborhoods now converse: the party of the old does not mix with that of the young, and the two cannot tolerate each other: they represent the conservative and liberal parties, only their struggles take on an extreme character in the towns. « The Gobernadorcillo’s conduct is alarming to me! » said Don Filipo, the leader of the Liberal party, to his friends. « He has a preconceived plan to leave the discussion of the budget until the last minute. Note that we have barely eleven days left.  » « And he has stayed at the convent conferring with the priest who is ill! » observed one of the young men. « It doesn’t matter! » replied another; « we have everything already prepared. As long as the old men’s project doesn’t obtain a majority…  » « I don’t believe it! » said Don Filipo. « I will present the old men ‘s project .  » « What? What are you saying? » asked his surprised listeners. « I say that if I speak first, I will present our enemies’ project .  » « And ours?  » « You will take care of presenting it, » replied the lieutenant, smiling , and addressing a young cabeza de barangay [77]; « You will speak after I have been defeated.  » “We don’t understand you, sir!” said his interlocutors, looking at him full of doubt. “Listen!” said Don Filipo in a low voice to two or three others who were listening. “This morning I met with old Tasio. ” “So what? ” The old man said to me: “Your enemies hate you more than your ideas. Do you want something not to be done? Well, propose it, and even if it were more useful than a mitre, it will be rejected. Once « Have you defeated, make the most modest of all explain what you wanted , and your enemies, to humiliate you, will approve it. But keep it a secret.  » « But… » « That’s why I will propose the project of our enemies, exaggerating it to the point of ridicule. » « Silence! Señor Ibarra and the schoolmaster! » Both young men greeted one group or another without taking part in their conversations. A few moments later, the little governor entered with a displeased face: it was the same one we saw yesterday carrying an arroba of candles. Upon his entrance , the murmurs ceased, everyone took a seat, and little by little silence reigned. The captain [78] sat down in the armchair placed under His Majesty’s portrait, coughed four or five times, passed his hands over his head and face, placed his elbows on the table, removed them, coughed again, and so on. « Gentlemen! » he finally replied in a faint voice, « I have dared to call you all together for this meeting… ahem! ahem!… we have to celebrate the feast of our patron saint, Saint Diego, on the 12th of this month… ahem! ahem! Today we are two apart… ahem! ahem! » And here a slow, dry cough attacked him, which reduced him to silence. Then a man of about forty , with an arrogant appearance, rose from the old people’s bench . He was the wealthy Captain Basilio, the opposite of the late Don Rafael, a man who claimed that since the death of Saint Thomas Aquinas the world had not taken a step forward, and that since he left San Juan de Letrán, humanity had begun to regress. « Allow me, Your Graces. » to speak on such an interesting matter, » he said. « I will speak first, although others present here have more rights than I, but I speak first because it seems to me that in these matters, speaking first does not mean being first, just as speaking last does not mean being last. Furthermore, the things I will have to say are of such importance that they are not to be left or said last, and that is why I would like to speak first to give them their proper tone. Your Graces will therefore allow me to speak first in this meeting, where I see very notable people such as the current captain; the past captain, my distinguished friend Don Valentín; the past captain, my childhood friend Don Julio; our celebrated captain of the squad, Don Melchor, and many other lordships, whom I do not wish to mention for the sake of brevity , that Your Graces see here present. I beg Your Graces to allow me to speak before anyone else speaks.  » Would I be fortunate enough to have the Junta grant my humble request? And the orator bowed respectfully, smiling. « Now you may speak, for we are eagerly listening! » said the aforementioned friends and other people who considered him a great orator. The old people coughed with satisfaction and rubbed their hands together. Captain Basilio, after wiping the sweat from his face with his silk handkerchief, continued: « Since Your Excellencies have been so kind and so accommodating to my humble person, granting me the right to speak before anyone else present here, I will take advantage of this permission, so generously granted, and I am going to speak. » I imagine with my mind that I find myself in the midst of the highly respected Roman Senate, senatus populusque romanus as we called it in those beautiful times, which fatally for humanity will never return, and I will ask the patres conscripti, as the wise Cicero would say, if he were in my place, I will ask, since we are short of time, and time is money as Solomon said, that on this important matter each one express their opinion clearly, briefly, and simply. I have said. And satisfied with himself and with the attention of the room, the orator sat down not without giving Ibarra, who was sitting in a corner, a superior look , and another very meaningful one to his friends as if to say: Ah! Did I speak well? Ah! His friends also reflected both looks, turning toward the young men as if to kill them with envy. « Now whoever wishes may speak, ahem! » replied the little governor, unable to finish his sentence… which was interrupted by coughing and sighs. Judging by the silence, no one wanted to be called one of the patres conscripti; no one stood up: then Don Filipo seized the opportunity and asked to speak. The conservatives winked and made meaningful signs to each other. « I am going to present my budget, gentlemen, for the festival, » said Don Filipo. « We cannot accept it! » replied an old consumptive, an intransigent conservative. « We vote against it! » said the other adversaries. « Gentlemen! » said Don Filipo, suppressing a smile; « I have not yet presented the project that we young people have brought here. We are sure that this great project will be preferred by all to the one that our adversaries devise or may devise. » This presumptuous introduction only irritated the conservatives, who swore to oppose him in corde. Don Filipo continued: « We have a budget of 3,500 pesos. Well then, with this amount we can celebrate a festival that will eclipse in magnificence all those seen up to now, both in our province and in the neighboring ones.  » « Hum! » exclaimed the incredulous; « Town A. had 5,000, Town B. 4,000, hum! A hamburger stand! » [79] « Listen to me, gentlemen, and you will be convinced! » continued Don Filipo, unperturbed. « I propose that a large theater be built in the middle of the plaza, costing 150 pesos!  » « 150 is not enough, we have to put in 160! » objected a tenacious conservative. « Write down, Mr. Director, 200 pesos for the theater! » said Don Filipo. « I propose that the Tondo comedy be contracted for seven consecutive nights. Seven performances at 200 pesos a night make 1,400: write down 1,400, Mr. Director! » Old and young alike looked at each other in surprise; only those who were in on the secret didn’t budge. « I also propose huge fireworks; no little lights or little wheels that children and single women like; none of that. We want huge bombs and colossal rockets. So I propose 200 huge bombs at two pesos each, and 200 rockets at the same price. We’ll order them from the castle-keepers at Malabón.  » « Hmm! » interrupted an old man: « a two-peso bomb doesn’t scare me or make me deaf; it has to be three pesos. » « Set aside 1,000 pesos for 200 bombs and 200 rockets! » The conservatives could no longer contain themselves; some stood up and conferred among themselves. « Furthermore, so that our neighbors can see that we are splendid people and have money to spare, » continued Don Filipo, raising his voice and casting a quick glance at the group of old men, « I propose: 1. Four older brothers for the two days of the festival, and 2. That each day 200 fried hens, 100 stuffed capons, and 50 suckling pigs be thrown into the lake, as did Sulla, a contemporary of that Cicero, of whom Capt. Basilio just spoke.  » « That’s right, like Sulla! » repeated Capt. Basilio, flattered. The astonishment increased by degrees. –Since so many rich people are coming, and each one is bringing thousands and thousands of pesos, their best roosters, and the liam-pó [80] and cards, I propose two weeks of cockfighting, and freedom to open all the gambling houses… But the young men interrupted him, standing up; they thought the lieutenant -chief had gone mad. The old men were arguing heatedly. –And finally, so as not to neglect the pleasures of the soul… The murmurs and shouts that arose from all corners of the room completely drowned out his voice: it was now nothing more than a tumult. –No!–shouted an intransigent conservative;–I don’t want anyone to boast about having thrown a party, no! Let me, let me speak! –Don Filipo has deceived us!–said the liberals. We’ll vote against it! He’s gone over to the old men! Let’s vote against it! The little governor, more dejected than ever, did nothing to restore order: he waited for them to do so. The captain of the squad asked to speak; they gave it to him, but He didn’t open his mouth and sat back down, confused and embarrassed. Fortunately, Captain Valentín, the most moderate of all the conservatives, stood up and spoke: « We cannot accept what the lieutenant-chief has proposed, because it seems exaggerated to us. So many bombs and so many nights of comedy could only be desired by a young man, like the lieutenant-chief, who can spend many sleepless nights and hear many explosions without going deaf. I have consulted the opinions of sensible people, and they all unanimously disapprove of Don Filipo’s project. Isn’t that it, gentlemen?  » « Yes! Yes! » said young and old alike in unison. The young were delighted to hear an old man speak like this. « What are we going to do with four older brothers? » continued the old man. « What do these chickens, capons, and piglets thrown into the lake mean? ‘Hamburgue!’ our neighbors will say, and then we’ll fast for half a year. » What do we have to do with Sulla or the Romans? Have they ever invited us to their festivals? I, at least, have never received a single note from them, and beware, I’m already old! « The Romans live in Rome, where the Pope is! » Captain Basilio muttered to him under his breath. « Now I understand! » the old man exclaimed, unperturbed. « They would celebrate their festivals during the vigil, and the Pope would order the food to be thrown into the sea so as not to commit a sin. But, in any case, your festival project is inadmissible, impossible, it’s madness! » Don Filipo, bitterly opposed, had to withdraw his proposal. The most intransigent conservatives, satisfied with the defeat of their greatest enemy, watched without concern as a young cabeza de barangay stood up and asked to speak. « I ask Your Majesty. » Excuse me, if, young as I am, I dare to speak before so many highly respected persons, both for their age and for the prudence and discernment with which they judge all matters ; but since the eloquent orator, Capt. Basil, has invited everyone to express their opinions here, let his authoritative words serve as an excuse for the smallness of my person. The conservatives shook their heads in satisfaction. “This young man speaks well!” “He is modest!” “He reasons admirably!” they said to one another. “It’s a pity he can’t gesticulate well!” observed Capt. Basil. “But you see! He hasn’t studied Cicero, and he’s still very young. ” “If I present to you, gentlemen, a program or project,” continued the young man, “I do not do so with the thought that you will find it perfect, nor accept it; I want, while once again submitting myself to the will of everyone, to prove to the elders that we always think like them, since we embrace all the ideas so elegantly expressed by Captain Basilio. « Well said, well said! » said the flattered conservatives. Captain Basilio signaled to the young man how he should move his arm and place his foot. The only one who remained impassive was the little governor, distracted or preoccupied: both, he seemed. The young man continued, gaining courage: « My project, gentlemen, boils down to the following: to invent new spectacles that are not the ordinary and common ones we see every day, and to ensure that the money collected does not leave the town, nor is wasted in vain on gunpowder, but is used for something useful to everyone.
 » « That’s it! That’s it! » the young men agreed; « that’s what we want.  » « Very well! » added the old men. –What do we gain from a week of comedies that the lieutenant- chief requests? What do we learn from the kings of Bohemia and Granada, who order their daughters’ heads to be cut off or load them into a cannon, and then the cannon becomes a throne? We are neither kings, nor barbarians, nor do we have cannons, and if we imitated them we would be hanged at Bagumbayan. What are these princesses who mix in battles, distribute blows and cuts, fight with princes, and wander alone through mountains and valleys, as if seduced by the Tikbalang [81]? In our customs we love sweetness and tenderness in women, and we would fear to shake the hands of a maiden, stained with blood, even if that blood were that of a Moor or a giant; among us, we despise and consider vile any man who raises his hand against a woman, be he a prince, a second lieutenant, or a rude peasant. Would it not be a thousand times better if we presented a portrait of our own customs, to correct our vices and defects and extol our good qualities? « That’s right! That’s right! » repeated his supporters. « You’re right! » murmured some of the old men thoughtfully. « I had never thought of that! » continued Captain Basilio. « But how are you going to do that? » objected the intransigent. « Very easily! » replied the young man. « I have two comedies here, which surely the good taste and well-known discernment of the respectable elders gathered here will find very acceptable and entertaining. One is entitled The Election of the Little Governor; it is a prose comedy in five acts, written by one of those present.  » The other, in nine acts, for two nights, is a fantastic drama of a satirical character, written by one of the best poets of the province, and entitled Mariang Makiling [82]. Seeing that the discussion of the preparations for the festival was dragging on, and fearing that we were short of time, we secretly sought out our actors and made them learn their parts. We hope that with a week’s rehearsal, they will have more than enough to carry out their task successfully. This, gentlemen, besides being new, useful, and reasonable, is also economical: we don’t need costumes; ours will do, those of common life. « I’ll pay for the theater! » exclaimed Captain Basilio enthusiastically. « If any soldiers are coming, I’ll lend mine! » said the captain of the squad. « And I… and I… if you need an old man… » stammered another, and stood up with pompous expression. « Accepted! Accepted! » cried many voices. The senior lieutenant was pale with emotion; His eyes filled with tears . « He’s crying with spite! » thought the intransigent man, and he cried, « Accepted, accepted without question! » And satisfied with his revenge and the complete defeat of his adversary, the man began to praise the young man’s project. The young man continued, « A fifth of the money raised can be used to distribute certain prizes, for example, to the best boy in school, the best shepherd, farmer, fisherman, etc. We can organize regattas on the river and the lake, horse races, raise greased poles, and institute other games in which our peasants can take part. I grant that, because of our time-honored customs, we may have fireworks : wheels and castles offer very beautiful and entertaining spectacles, but I don’t think we need the bombs that the lieutenant-chief proposed. To liven up the festivities, two bands of music are sufficient; Thus, we avoid those quarrels and enmities that turn the poor musicians, who come to liven up our festivities with their work, into veritable fighting cocks, who then retire poorly paid, poorly fed, bruised, and sometimes wounded. With the money left over, we can begin the construction of a small building to serve as a school, for we must not wait for God himself to descend and build it for us: it is a sad thing that while we have a first- rate cockpit, our children learn little more than in the priest’s stable. Here is the hasty project; perfecting it will be the work of everyone. A joyful murmur arose in the room: almost everyone agreed with what the young man had said; only a few murmured: « New things! New things! In our youth… » « Let’s accept it for now, » said the others; « let’s humiliate him. » And they pointed at the lieutenant-chief. When silence was restored, everyone was in agreement. The governor’s decision was still pending . He was sweating, fidgeting, rubbing his forehead, and finally managed to stammer with his eyes lowered: « I’m in agreement too… but ahem! » The court listened to him in silence. « But? » asked Captain Basilio. « Very in agreement! » repeated the governor: « that is to say… I’m not. » ok… yes, but… And he rubbed his eyes with the back of his hand. « But the priest, » continued the unfortunate man, « the priest wants something else.  » « Is the priest paying for the festival or are we? Has he even given a quarter? » exclaimed a penetrating voice. Everyone looked toward the place where these questions had come from: there stood the philosopher Tasio. The senior lieutenant stood motionless, his eyes fixed, looking at the little governor. « And what does the priest want? » asked Captain Basilio. « Well, the priest wants… six processions, three sermons, three high masses… and if there’s money left over, a comedy of Tondo and singing during the intermissions.  » « Well, we don’t want them! » said the young people and some of the old people. « The priest wants it! » repeated the little governor. « I promised the priest that his wishes would be fulfilled.  » « Then why have you called us together? » « Precisely… to tell you.  » « And why didn’t you say so from the beginning? » « I wanted to say it, gentlemen, but Captain Basilio spoke and I haven’t had time… We must obey the priest!  » « We must obey him! » repeated some of the old men. « We must obey! Otherwise the Mayor will imprison us all,  » added other old men sadly. « Then obey and celebrate yourselves! » exclaimed the young men, standing up. « We’ll withdraw our contribution.  » « Everything’s already been collected! » said the little governor. Don Filipo approached him and said bitterly: « I sacrificed my self-respect for a good cause; you sacrificed your dignity as a man for a bad one and you destroyed everything. » Ibarra said to the schoolmaster: « Do you want something for the provincial capital? I’m leaving immediately today.  » « Do you have a business? » “We have a business!” Ibarra answered mysteriously. Along the way, the old philosopher was saying to Don Filipo, who was cursing his fate: “It’s our fault! You didn’t protest when they gave you a slave as your leader, and I, crazy that I am, have forgotten!” Chapter 21. THE STORY OF A MOTHER. He wandered uncertainly—he flew errantly, not resting for a single instant…. (Alaejos). Sisa ran home with that confusion of ideas that occurs in our being when, in the midst of a misfortune, we find ourselves abandoned by everyone and all hope flees from us. Then it seems that everything goes dark around us, and if we see some little light shining in the distance, we run to it, we pursue it; it doesn’t matter if an abyss opens in the middle of the path! The mother wanted to save her children; how? Mothers don’t ask about the means when it comes to their children. She ran wildly, pursued by fears and sinister premonitions. Had they already arrested her son Basilio? Where had her Crispín fled to? Near her house, she made out the helmets of two soldiers above the fence of her garden. It was impossible to describe what passed through her heart: she forgot everything. She was aware of the audacity of those men, who showed no regard even for the richest people in town. What would become of her and her sons now, accused of theft? The Civil Guards are not men; they are only Civil Guards; they don’t hear pleas and are accustomed to seeing tears. Sisa instinctively raised her eyes to the sky, and the heavens smiled with an ineffable light: a few white clouds swam in the transparent blue. She stopped to suppress the trembling that took hold of her whole body. The soldiers were leaving their house and coming alone: ​​they had caught nothing but the hen that Sisa was fattening. She breathed and took heart. “How good they are and what a kind heart they have!” she murmured, almost weeping with joy. The soldiers would have burned the house, but they would have left her children free , and she would have showered them with blessings. She looked again gratefully at the sky, where a flock of herons crossed, those light clouds of the Philippine skies, and, reborn in her With her heart full of confidence, she continued on her way. As she approached those fearsome men, Sisa pretended to look around as if distracted, pretending not to see her hen, which was twittering for help. As soon as she passed them, she wanted to run, but prudence slowed her steps. She hadn’t gone far when she heard someone calling her imperiously. She shuddered, but pretended not to hear and continued walking. They called her again, but this time with a shout and an insulting word. In spite of herself, she turned around, pale and trembling. A Civil Guard was signaling to her with his hand. Sisa approached mechanically, feeling her tongue freeze with terror and her throat go dry. « Tell us the truth, or we’ll tie you to that tree and shoot you twice ! » said one of them in a threatening voice. The woman looked toward the tree. “Are you the mother of thieves?” asked the other. “Mother of thieves!” repeated Sisa mechanically. “Where is the money your sons brought you last night? ” “Ah! The money… ” “Don’t deny it to us, it will be worse for you!” added the other. “We have come to arrest your sons, and the eldest has escaped; where have you hidden the youngest?” Hearing this, Sisa breathed. “Sir!” she answered; “it is many days since I have seen my son Crispin: I expected to see him this morning at the convent, and there they only told me that…” The two soldiers exchanged a significant glance. “Well!” exclaimed one of them; “give us the money and we will leave you in peace. ” “Sir!” begged the unfortunate woman; “my sons do not steal even when they are hungry: we are accustomed to suffering it. Basilio has not brought me even a farthing; Search the whole house, and if you find a single real, do with us what you wish. We poor people are not all thieves! « Then, » the soldier replied slowly, fixing his gaze on Sisa’s, « you are coming with us; your children will try to appear and give up the money they have stolen. Follow us!  » « Me?… follow you? » the woman murmured, drawing back and looking in horror at the soldiers’ uniforms. « Why not?  » « Ah! Have pity on me! » she begged, almost on her knees. « I am very poor, I have neither gold nor jewels to offer you: the only thing I had you have already taken from me, the hen I was thinking of selling… take everything you find in my hut, but leave me here in peace, let me here die!  » « Go on! You must come, and if you do not come back at ease, we will tie you up.  » Sisa burst into bitter tears. Those men were inflexible. « At least let me go ahead at a distance! » she begged when she felt herself being brutally seized and pushed. The two soldiers were moved and conferred among themselves in low voices. « Good! » said one; « since you can run from here until we enter the village , you’ll be between us. Once there, you can march ahead at about twenty paces; but be careful! Don’t enter any tent, don’t stop. Onward and quickly! » In vain were the entreaties, in vain the arguments, useless the promises. The soldiers said they were promising enough and granting her too much. Finding herself between the two, she felt ashamed to death… No one was really coming along the road, but what about the fresh air and the light of day? True modesty sees glances everywhere. She covered her face with her handkerchief and, marching blindly, wept in silence over her humiliation. She knew her misery, she knew that she was abandoned by everyone, even by her own husband, but until now she had considered herself honorable and esteemed: until now she had looked with compassion on those women, scandalously dressed, whom the people called the soldiers’ concubines . Now it seemed to her that she had descended one step further than them in the scale of life. The sound of horses’ feet was heard: they were carrying fish to the villages in the interior. They made their journeys in small caravans, men and women mounted on poor horses, between two baskets hung on the sides of the animals. Several of them, as they passed in front of her hut, They had asked her for water to drink and given her some fish. Now, as she passed by, it seemed to her that they were trampling and shoving her, and that their glances, compassionate or disdainful, pierced through her handkerchief and stabbed her face. Finally, the travelers moved away, and Sisa sighed. She lifted her handkerchief for a moment to see if they were still far from the town. There were a few telegraph poles before reaching the bantayan, or sentry box. That distance had never seemed so long to her. Along the roadside grew a leafy sugarcane field, in whose shade she had once rested. There, her fiancé engaged her in sweet conversation; he helped her carry the basket of fruits and vegetables. Alas! That passed like a dream; the fiancé became a husband, and the husband became cabeza de barangay, and then misfortune began to knock at her door. As the sun began to burn, the soldiers asked her if she wanted to rest. « Thank you! » she replied, horrified. But it was as they approached the village that she truly felt terror. Distraught, she looked around: vast rice paddies, a small irrigation canal, stunted trees; not a precipice or a rock to crash against! She regretted having followed the soldiers there; she missed the deep river that ran near her hut, whose high banks, strewn with sharp rocks, offered such sweet death. But the thought of her children, of her son Crispín, whose fate she still didn’t know, illuminated her that night, and she was able to murmur with resignation: « Later… later we’ll go live in the depths of the forest! » She dried her eyes, tried to calm herself, and addressing the guards, she said in a low voice: « We’re back in the village! » Her accent was indefinable; it was a complaint, a rebuke, a lament; it was a prayer, it was pain condensed into sound. The soldiers, moved, responded with a gesture. Sisa quickly stepped forward, trying to affect a calm air. At that moment, the bells began to ring, announcing the end of high mass. Sisa quickened her pace so as not to run into the people leaving, if possible. But in vain; there was no way to avoid them. With a bitter smile, she greeted two acquaintances who were questioning her with their eyes. From then on, to avoid such mortifications, she lowered her head and stared only at the ground, and strangely enough, she stumbled over the stones in the road. People stopped for a moment when they saw her, conversing among themselves, following her with their eyes: she saw all this, she felt it, despite constantly keeping her eyes lowered. She heard a shameless woman’s voice asking from behind her, almost shouting: « Where did you get it? And the money? » It was a woman, without a tapis or tunic, wearing a yellow and green skirt and a blue gauze shirt . It was clear from her dress that she was a beloved of the soldiery. Sisa thought she felt a slap: that woman had stripped her naked in front of the crowd. She raised her eyes for a moment to satiate herself with the mockery and contempt; she saw the people far, far away from her, and yet she felt the cold of their gazes and heard their whispers. The poor woman walked without feeling the ground. « Hey, this way! » a guard shouted to her. Like an automaton whose mechanism has broken, she quickly spun around . Without seeing anything, without thinking, she ran to hide. She saw a door with a sentry, tried to go through it, but another voice, even more imperious, pulled her back. With hesitant steps, she searched for the direction of that voice, felt someone pushing her from behind, closed her eyes, took two steps, and, failing, let herself fall to the ground, first on her knees and then sitting. A cry without tears, without screams, without moans, shook her convulsively. That was the barracks. There were soldiers, women, pigs, and chickens. Some were sewing their clothes while their beloved lay on the bench, using the man’s thigh as a pillow, smoking and staring boredly at the ceiling. Others were helping the men cleaning the clothes, weapons, etc., singing lewd songs in low voices. « It seems the chickens have escaped! You’ve only got the hen! » said a woman to the new arrivals. It has not been determined whether she was referring to Sisa or to the hen that continued to chirp. « Yes, the hen is always worth more than the chickens! » she answered herself when she saw that the soldiers had fallen silent. « Where is the sergeant? » asked one of the Civil Guards in a disgruntled tone. « Have they notified the second lieutenant yet? » Shrugging shoulders were the replies: no one bothered to find out anything about the poor woman’s fate. There she spent two hours in a state of semi-asleep, huddled in a corner, her head hidden in her hands, her hair disheveled and in disarray. At noon, the ensign found out, and the first thing he did was to discredit the priest’s accusation. « Bah! The petty friar’s tricks! » he said, and ordered that the woman be released and that no one else should be involved in the matter. « If she wants to recover what she lost, » he added, « let her ask her Saint Anthony or complain to the nuncio! Clear up the matter! » As a result, Sisa was thrown out of the barracks, almost pushed, because she wouldn’t move. When she found herself in the middle of the street, she began to walk mechanically toward her house, quickly, with her head uncovered, her hair disheveled, and her gaze fixed on the distant horizon. The sun was blazing at its zenith, and there was not a cloud to veil its resplendent disc; the wind weakly stirred the leaves of the trees; the road was already almost dry; Not a single bird dared to leave the shade of the branches. Sisa finally reached her little house. She entered, mute, silent; she walked around it, left, and started walking in all directions. Then she ran to old Tasio’s house and knocked on the door, but the old man wasn’t there. The unfortunate woman returned home and began to call out loud: « Basilio! Crispín! » pausing every now and then and listening intently. The echo repeated her voice; the sweet murmur of the water in the nearby river, the music of the reed leaves were the only voices in the solitude. She called again, climbed to a height, descended into a ravine, and went down into the river. His eyes wandered with a sinister expression, illuminating from time to time with vivid flashes, then darkening, like the sky on a stormy night: it seemed as if the light of reason was flickering and about to go out. He went back up to his little house, sat down on the mat where they had slept the night before, raised his eyes, and saw a shred of Basilio’s shirt at the end of a reed from the dinding or partition, which falls near the precipice. He got up, picked it up, and examined it in the sunlight : the shred had bloodstains. But Sisa perhaps didn’t see them, for he went down and continued examining it in the midst of the scorching rays, holding it up high; and as if he felt everything darkening and his clarity fading, he looked straight at the sun with his eyes wide open. She continued to wander from one side to the other, screaming or howling strange sounds; anyone who had heard her would have been afraid: her voice had a strange timbre, such as the human larynx does not usually produce. At night, when the storm rages and the wind flies with dizzying speed, beating with its invisible wings an army of shadows that pursue it, if you find yourself in a ruined and solitary building, you hear certain moans, certain sighs that you suppose are the wind rustling against the high towers or the ruined walls, but which fill you with terror and make you shudder beyond help; well, that mother’s tone was even more lugubrious than those unknown laments on dark nights when the storm rages. Thus the night surprised her. Perhaps heaven would grant him a few hours of sleep, during which the invisible wing of an angel, brushing his pale face, would have erased his memory, reduced all to pain; perhaps so much suffering would not be within the measure of weak human resistance, and then Mother Providence would intervene with her sweet palliative, oblivion; whatever it may be, the fact is that, the following day, Sisa wandered around smiling, singing or talking with all the beings of Nature. Chapter 22. LIGHTS AND SHADOWS. Three days have passed since the events we have narrated. These three days and nights have been dedicated by the people of San Diego to making preparations for the festival and to commentating, murmuring all the while. While they savored the future rejoicings, some spoke ill of the gobernadorcillo, others of the teniente mayor, others of the young people, and there were those who blamed everyone for everything. They commented on the arrival of María Clara, accompanied by Aunt Isabel. They rejoiced at this because they loved her, and while they greatly admired her beauty, they also marveled at the changes that Father Salví’s character had undergone. He is often distracted during the holy sacrifice; He doesn’t talk much with us anymore and is visibly becoming thinner and more taciturn, his penitents said. The cook saw him growing thinner by the minute and complained about the lack of honor he showed his dishes. But what most excited the people’s gossip was the fact that more than two lights were on in the convent during the night while Father Salví was visiting a private home… María Clara’s house! The nuns crossed themselves, but continued murmuring. Juan Crisóstomo Ibarra had telegraphed from the provincial capital greeting Aunt Isabel and her niece, but without explaining the reason for his absence. Many believed him to be in prison for his behavior with Father Salví on the afternoon of All Saints’ Day. But the gossip escalated when, on the afternoon of the third day, they saw him get out of a carriage in front of his future wife’s house and politely greet the religious man who was also on his way to her. No one cared about Sisa and her children. If we now go to María Clara’s house, a beautiful nest among orange and ilang ilang trees, we will still catch sight of the two young people, leaning out of a window overlooking the lake. It was shaded by flowers and vines, which climbed canes and wires, spreading a light perfume. Their lips murmured words, softer than the whisper of the leaves and more fragrant than the scented air that drifted through the garden. It was the hour when the sirens of the lake, taking advantage of the shadows of the swift twilight, poked their cheerful little heads above the waves to admire and salute the dying sun with their songs. They say their eyes and hair are blue, that they are crowned with aquatic plants with white and red flowers; They say that from time to time the white foam reveals its sculptural forms, whiter even than the foam itself, and that when night has completely descended, they begin their divine games and let out mysterious chords like those of Aeolian harps; they also say… but let us return to our young people and listen to the end of their conversation, Ibarra said to María Clara. « Tomorrow, before dawn breaks, your wish will be granted. Tonight I will arrange everything so that nothing is lacking.  » « Then I will write to my friends, so that they may come. Make sure that the priest cannot continue!  » « And why?  » « Because he seems to be watching me. His sunken, somber eyes hurt me ; when he fixes them on me, they frighten me. When he speaks to me , he has a voice… he speaks to me of things so strange, incomprehensible, so strange… He asked me once if I had not dreamed of letters from my mother; I think he is half mad. » My friend Sinang and Andeng, my foster sister, say he’s a bit sick because he doesn’t eat or bathe and lives in the dark. Make sure he doesn’t come! « We can’t help but not invite him, » Ibarra answers thoughtfully. « The customs of the country require it; he’s in your house, and besides, he’s behaved nobly toward me. When the mayor consulted him about the business I mentioned to you, he had nothing but praise for me and didn’t try to put the slightest obstacle in the way. But I see you’re getting serious; don’t worry, he won’t be able to join us on the bench. » Light footsteps were heard: it was the priest approaching with a forced smile on his lips. « The wind is cold! » he said. « When you catch a cold, it doesn’t go away until the warm weather comes. Aren’t you afraid of catching a cold? » His voice was trembling, and his gaze was directed toward the distant horizon; he didn’t look at the young men. « On the contrary, we find the night pleasant and the wind delightful! » Ibarra replied. « In these months we have our autumn and our spring; some leaves fall, but flowers always sprout.  » The friar sighed. « I find the combination of these two seasons very beautiful without the intervention of the cold winter, » Ibarra continued. « In February the buds will sprout on the branches of the fruit trees, and by March we will have ripe fruit. When the warmer months come, we will go somewhere else.  » Friar Salví smiled. They began to talk about indifferent things—the weather, the town, the festival; María Clara found an excuse and left.
“And since we’re talking about festivals, allow me to invite you to the one we’ll be holding tomorrow. It’s a country festival that our friends and we give each other. ” “And where will it be held? ” “The young women want it at the stream that runs in the neighboring woods, near the balitî; that’s why we’ll get up early so the sun doesn’t reach us.” The priest reflected; a moment later, he replied: “The invitation is very tempting, and I accept to prove that I no longer hold a grudge against you. But I’ll have to come later after I’ve fulfilled my obligations. Happy you are free, completely free!” Minutes later, Ibarra took his leave to take charge of the next day’s festival . “It was already dark night. Someone approached him on the street and greeted him reverently. “Who are you?” Ibarra asked. « You don’t know my name, sir, » replied the stranger. « I’ve been waiting for you for two days.  » « And why?  » « Because they haven’t taken pity on me anywhere, because they say I’m a bandit, sir! But I’ve lost my children, my wife is crazy , and everyone says I deserve my fate! » Ibarra quickly examined the man and asked, « What do you want now?  » « To implore your mercy for my wife and children! » « I can’t stop, » replied Ibarra. « If you want to follow me, you can walk and tell me what happened to you. » The man thanked them, and they soon disappeared into the darkness of the dimly lit streets. Chapter 23. THE FISHING The stars were still shining in the sapphire vault, and the birds were still slumbering on the branches, when a cheerful procession was now passing through the streets of the town, on its way to the lake, by the cheerful light of the pitch torches commonly called huepes. They were five young girls, walking quickly, holding hands or at the waist, followed by some old women and several maids, who gracefully carried on their heads baskets full of provisions, dishes, etc. Seeing their faces, where youth laughs and hopes shine, contemplating their abundant black hair and the wide folds of their dresses floating in the wind, we would take them for divinities of the night fleeing from the day, if we did not know that they were María Clara with her four friends: the cheerful Sinang, her stern cousin Victoria, the beautiful Iday, and the thoughtful Neneng, of modest and fearful beauty. They conversed animatedly, laughed, pinched each other, whispered in each other’s ears, and then burst out laughing. « You’re going to wake up the people who are still sleeping! » Aunt Isabel scolded them. « When we were young, we didn’t make such a racket.  » « Nor would you get up as early as we do, nor would the old people be so sleepy! » replied little Sinang. They would fall silent for a moment, trying to lower their voices, but soon they would forget, laughing and filling the street with their youthful, fresh accents. « Pretend to be resentful; don’t talk to him! » Sinang would say to María Clara. « Scold him so he doesn’t get into bad habits! » « Don’t be so demanding, » Iday would say. « Be demanding, don’t be silly! The groom must obey while he’s a groom, and then when he’s a husband, he does whatever he wants! » little Sinang would advise. « What do you understand about that, child? » her cousin Victoria would correct her. « Psst, be quiet, they’re coming! » Indeed, a group of young men were coming, lighting themselves with large reed torches. They were marching quite seriously to the sound of a guitar. « It sounds like a beggar’s guitar! » Sinang said, laughing. When the two groups met, it was the women who maintained a serious and formal demeanor, as if they hadn’t yet learned to laugh; on the contrary, the men were talking, greeting each other, smiling, and asking six questions to get half an answer. « Is the lake calm? Do you think we’ll have good weather? » the mothers would ask. « Don’t worry, ladies; « I know how to swim well, » replied a tall, thin, and slender young man. « We should have heard Mass first! » sighed Aunt Isabel, clasping her hands. « There’s still time, madam; Albino, who was a seminarian, can say it in the pew, » replied another, pointing at the tall, thin young man. This one, who had a sarcastic expression, upon hearing this alluded to, adopted a contrite expression, caricaturing Father Salví. Ibarra, without losing his seriousness, also took part in the joy of his companions. Upon reaching the beach, exclamations of astonishment and joy involuntarily escaped the women’s lips . They saw two large benches, joined together, picturesquely adorned with garlands of flowers and leaves, with tattered fabrics of various colors: paper lanterns hung from the improvised deck alternating between roses and carnations, fruits such as pineapples, kasuy, bananas, guavas, and lanzones [83], etc. Ibarra had brought his rugs, tapestries, and cushions, and made comfortable seats for the women. The tikines [84] and oars also had their decorations. On the most adorned bench there was a harp, guitars, accordions, and a carabao horn; on the other a fire was burning in clay kalanes [85]; tea, coffee , and salabat [86] were being prepared for breakfast. « Here the women, there the men! » the mothers would say as they boarded. « Stay still! Don’t move too much, or we’ll sink. » « Make the sign of the cross first! » Aunt Isabel would say, crossing herself. « And will we be so alone here? » Sinang would ask , pouting. « Just us? » « Aray!  » This « aray! » was caused by a pinch her mother had given her just in time. The benches were slowly moving away from the beach, reflecting the light from the lanterns in the mirror of the completely tranquil lake. In the east, the first shades of dawn were appearing. Relatively, silence reigned; the youth, with the separation established by their mothers, seemed to be engaged in meditation. « Be careful! » Albino, the seminarian, said aloud to another young man. « Tread carefully on the tow under your foot. » « What is it? » « It could jump out and the water could get in: this bench has many holes.  » « Oh, we’re going to sink! » the terrified women cried. « Don’t worry, ladies! » the seminarian assured them. « That bench is safe: it only has five holes, and they’re not very big.  » « Five holes! Jesus! Are you trying to drown us? » the horrified women exclaimed. « Only five, ladies, and about this big! » the seminarian assured them, showing them the small circle formed by his index finger and thumb. « Tread on the tow carefully so they don’t jump out.  » « My God! Holy Mary! Water’s coming in! » cried an old woman who felt she was getting wet. There was a small tumult; some were screaming, others thought of jumping into the water. « Tread on the tow carefully, over there! » Albino continued, pointing to the place where the young women were. « Where? Where? God! We don’t know! Please come, we don’t know! » the fearful women implored. It was necessary for five young people to go to the other bench to calm the terrified mothers. Strange coincidence! It seemed that There was a danger beside each of the dalagas: the old ones had no joints or even a compromised hole. And even stranger! Ibarra was sitting next to María Clara, Albino next to Victoria, etc. Tranquility reigned again in the circle of the caring mothers, but not in that of the young ones. Since the water was completely calm, the fishing pens were not far away, and it was still very early, it was decided to leave the oars and everyone would have breakfast. The lanterns were extinguished, for dawn was already illuminating the space. « There is nothing that can compare to salabat, taken in the morning before going to mass! » said Captain Ticá, the mother of the cheerful Sinang. « Take salabat with poto [87], Albino, and you will see that it will even make you want to pray.  » « That’s what I do, » he replied. « I plan to confess. » « No! » Sinang would say, « have some coffee, it gives you cheerful thoughts.  » « Right now, because I’m feeling a little sad.  » « Don’t do that! » Aunt Isabel would warn her; « have some tea with biscuits; they say tea calms your thoughts.  » « I’ll have some tea with biscuits too! » the obliging seminarian would reply; « fortunately, none of these drinks is Catholicism.  » « But can you? » Victoria asked. « Have some chocolate too? I believe so! As long as lunch doesn’t take too long…  » The morning was beautiful: the waters were beginning to shine, and from the direct light from the sky and the light reflected by the waters, a clarity resulted that illuminated objects, almost without casting shadows, a brilliant and fresh clarity, saturated with colors, which we glimpse in some seascapes. Almost everyone was cheerful, breathing in the light breeze that was beginning to stir; even the mothers, so full of foresight and warnings, were laughing and joking among themselves. « Do you remember? » one of them said to Captain Ticá, « do you remember when we used to bathe in the river, when we were still single? They would go down the stream, perhaps, on benches made of banana bark, with various kinds of fruit among fragrant flowers. Each one carried a little flag on which we could read our names… « And when we returned home? » another added, without letting the first finish; « we would find the cane bridges destroyed and then we had to wade through the streams… the rascals!  » « Yes! » Captain Ticá would say, « but I preferred to wet the edges of my skirt rather than uncover my foot: I knew that in the bushes along the bank there were eyes watching. » The young women listening to these things looked at each other and smiled; the others were having their own conversations and paid no attention. Only one man, the one acting as pilot, remained silent and oblivious to all the merriment. He was a young man with athletic build and an interesting physiognomy, thanks to his large, sad eyes and the severe contours of his lips. His long, unkempt black hair fell over his robust neck; a shirt of coarse, dark cloth revealed through its folds the powerful muscles that helped his sinewy, bare arms maneuver, like a feather, a wide, enormous oar, which served as a rudder to guide the two benches. María Clara had caught him watching her more than once: he would then quickly turn his gaze elsewhere and look into the distance, at the mountain, at the shore. The young woman took pity on his loneliness and, taking some cookies, offered them to him. The pilot looked at her with some surprise, but this look only lasted a second; he took a biscuit and thanked her briefly and in a barely audible voice. And no one thought of him again. The joyful laughter and the jokes of the young people didn’t twitch a muscle on his face; the cheerful Sinang didn’t make him smile when he received pinches, which made her furrow her eyebrows for a moment, only to return to her former cheerfulness. After breakfast, they continued their excursion toward the fishing pens. There were two of them, placed some distance from each other: both belonged to Captain Tiago. From a distance, some herons could be seen perched on the tips of the reeds of the fence, in a contemplative attitude, while some white birds, which the Tagalogs call kalauay or calao, flew in different directions , skimming the surface of the lake with their wings and filling the air with shrill cries. María Clara watched the herons, which, as the benches approached, began to fly off in the direction of the neighboring mountain. « Do those birds nest in the mountain? » the young woman asked the pilot, perhaps more to find out and make him talk. « Probably, madam, » he replied; « but no one has seen their nests so far .  » « Do those birds not have nests?  » « I suppose they must, otherwise they would be very unhappy.  » María Clara did not notice the sad tone with which the pilot pronounced these words. « So? »  » They say, madam, » replied the young man, « that the nests of these birds are invisible and have the quality of making whoever holds them invisible ; and, like the soul that is seen only in the smooth mirror of the eyes, it is also in the mirror of the waters that only these nests can be contemplated.  » Maria Clara became thoughtful. In the meantime, they had reached the baklad [88]: the old banker tied the boats to a rod. « Wait! » said Aunt Isabel to the old man’s son, who was preparing to board equipped with his panalok, or rod and net bag;  » the sinigang must be ready so that the fish can pass from the water to the broth.  » « Good Aunt Isabel! » exclaimed the seminarian; « she doesn’t want the fish to miss the water for even a moment. » Andeng, Maria Clara’s foster sister, despite her clean and cheerful face, had a reputation as a good cook. She prepared rice water, tomatoes, and mangoes, with some helping or hindering her, perhaps wanting to earn her sympathy. The young women cleaned the squash heads and peas, and cut the paayab [89] into short pieces as long as cigarettes. To distract the impatience of those who wanted to see how the fish would emerge from their prison, alive and kicking, the beautiful Iday took up the harp. Iday not only played this instrument well, but also had very beautiful fingers. The young woman clapped her hands, and Maria Clara kissed her; the harp is the most played instrument in that province and was the one appropriate for those moments. « Sing, Victoria, the wedding song! » the mothers requested. The men protested, and Victoria, who had a good voice, complained of hoarseness. The wedding song is a beautiful Tagalog elegy that depicts all the miseries and sadness of this state, without mentioning any of its joys. Then they asked María Clara to sing. « All my songs are sad.  » « It doesn’t matter, it doesn’t matter! » they all said. She didn’t need to be asked; she picked up the harp, played a prelude, and sang in a vibrant, harmonious, and soulful voice. Sweet are the hours in one’s own homeland, Where all that shines in the sun is a friend, Life is the breeze that flies through its fields, Death is pleasant, and love is more tender! Ardent kisses play on the lips, A mother’s bosom upon awakening, Arms seek to encircle the neck, And eyes smile as they look. Sweet is death for one’s own homeland, Where all that shines in the sun is a friend: Death is the breeze for one who has no homeland, no mother, no love! The voices faded, the song ceased, the harp fell silent, and still they continued listening: no one applauded. The young women felt their eyes fill with tears. Ibarra seemed upset, and the young pilot stared motionless into the distance. Suddenly, a thunderous crash was heard: the women let out a cry and covered their ears. It was the former seminarian Albino, blowing at the top of his lungs into the carabao horn, called a tambulî. Laughter and animation returned; their eyes, filled with tears, shone joyfully. « But are you going to make us deaf, heretic? » Aunt Isabel cried at him. « Madam, » the ex-seminarian answered solemnly, « I have heard of a poor trumpeter, down on the banks of the Rhine, who married a noble and rich maiden for playing the trumpet.  » « That’s right, the trumpeter of Säckingen, » added Ibarra, unable to resist taking part in the new excitement. « Do you hear him? » Albino continued, « well, I want to see if I have the same luck. » And he blew the resonant horn even more vigorously, bringing the horn particularly close to the ears of the young women who had become the saddest. Naturally, there was a small commotion; the mothers silenced him by slapping and pinching them. « Aray! » « Aray! » he said, feeling his arms. « The distance that separates the Philippines from the banks of the Rhine! Oh tempora! Oh mores! To some they give encomiendas and to others sambenitos!  » Everyone was already laughing, even Victoria herself; however, Sinang, she of the joyful eyes, said in a low voice to Maria Clara: « Happy you! Ah, I too would sing if I could! » Andeng finally announced that the broth was now ready to receive its guests. The young man, the fisherman’s son, then climbed onto the corral or bag, placed at the narrowest end of it, where one could write Lasciati ogni speranza voi ch’entrate, if the unfortunate fish knew how to read and understand Italian: a fish that entered there came out only to die. It is an almost circular space about a meter in diameter, arranged so that a man could stand on top and from there remove the fish with the net. « I wouldn’t get bored fishing with a rod there! » Sinang said, shuddering with pleasure. Everyone was attentive: some already thought they could see the fish wriggling and squirming inside the net, their gleaming scales shining, etc. However , when the young man put it in, not a single fish jumped out. « It must be full, » Albino said in a low voice; « it’s been more than five days since we last visited it.  » The fisherman pulled in his rod… alas! not a single fish adorned the net; the water, falling in abundant drops illuminated by the sun, seemed to laugh with a silvery laugh. An « ah! » of admiration, of disgust, of disappointment escaped everyone’s lips. The young man repeated the same operation, and the same result. « You don’t understand your job! » Albino said, climbing into the enclosure and snatching the net from the young man’s hands. « Now you’ll see! Andeng, open the pot! » But Albino didn’t understand either and kept the net empty. Everyone burst out laughing. « Don’t make a noise, the fish can hear you and won’t let you catch them! » he said. « This net must be dirty. » But the net had all its meshes intact. « Leave it to me, » said Leon, Iday’s boyfriend. He made sure of the condition of the enclosure, examined the net, and, satisfied, asked: « Are you sure it hasn’t been visited for five days?  » « Absolutely sure! The last time was All Saints’ Eve.  » « Well then, either the lake is enchanted or I’ll catch something. » Leon put the line in the water, but his face was filled with astonishment . He looked silently at the neighboring mountain for a moment and continued moving the rod in the water. Then, without withdrawing it, he murmured in a low voice: « An alligator.  » « An alligator! » they repeated. The word spread from mouth to mouth amidst the general horror and stupefaction. « What are you saying? » they asked him. « I say there’s an alligator caught, » León affirmed, and putting the rod handle in the water, he continued: « Do you hear that sound? That’s not the sand, it’s the tough skin, the alligator’s back. Do you see how the rods move? It’s him struggling, but he’s curled up on himself. Wait… he’s big; his body is almost a palm or more wide.  » « What to do? » was the question. « Catch him! » said a voice. « Jesus! And who’s going to catch him? » No one dared to descend into the abyss. The water was deep. « We should have tied him to our bench and dragged him away in triumph! » said Sinang; « eat the fish we were meant to eat!  » « I haven’t seen a live alligator yet! » murmured María Clara. The pilot stood up, grabbed a long rope, and nimbly climbed onto the platform. León gave him his place. Except for María Clara, no one had noticed him before; now everyone admired his slender stature. To his great surprise, and despite everyone’s shouts, the pilot jumped into the enclosure. « Take this knife! » shouted Crisóstomo, pulling out a broad Toledo blade. But the water was already rising in a thousand jets, and the chasm mysteriously closed in. « Jesus, Mary, and Joseph! » exclaimed the women. « We’re going to have a disaster! Jesus, Mary, and Joseph! » « Don’t worry, ladies, » the old banker told them. « If there’s anyone in the whole province who can do it, it’s him.  » « What’s that man’s name? » they asked. « We call him the Pilot: he’s the best I’ve ever seen; only he doesn’t love the job. » The water stirred, the water churned: it seemed that a struggle was raging at the bottom; the siege wavered. Everyone fell silent and held their breath. Ibarra convulsively gripped the hilt of the sharp knife. The struggle seemed to be over. The young man’s head appeared above and was greeted with joyful shouts; the women’s eyes were full of tears. The pilot climbed up, holding the end of the rope in his hand, and once on the platform, he pulled it up. The monster appeared: the rope was tied in a double band around his neck and under his forelegs. It was large, as León had already predicted, painted, and on its back grew green moss, which is to alligators what gray hair is to men. It bellowed like an ox, lashed its tail against the cane walls, clung to them, and opened its black, tremendous jaws, revealing its long fangs. The pilot hoisted it alone; no one remembered to help him. Once out of the water and positioned on the platform, he placed his foot on it, with a strong hand closed its enormous jaws, and tried to tie its snout with strong knots. The reptile attempted another effort, arched its body, beat the ground with its powerful tail, and, escaping, leaped into the lake outside the corral, dragging its trainer with it. The pilot was a dead man; a cry of horror escaped from everyone’s hearts. Quick as lightning, another body fell into the water; they barely had time to see that it was Ibarra. Maria Clara did not faint, because the Philippines do not yet know how to faint. They saw the waves turn red, tinged with blood. The young fisherman jumped into the abyss with his bolo [90] in his hand, his father following him; but they had hardly disappeared when they saw Crisóstomo and the pilot reappear, clutching the corpse of the reptile. Its entire white belly was ripped open and the knife stuck in its throat. It is impossible to describe the joy of those present: a thousand arms stretched out to pull the young men from the water. The old women were half-mad and laughed and prayed. Andeng forgot that her sinigang had boiled three times: all the broth spilled out and extinguished the fire. The only one who could not speak was Maria Clara. Ibarra was unharmed; the pilot had a slight scratch on his arm. « I owe you my life! » he said to Ibarra, who was wrapping himself in wool blankets and tapestries. The pilot’s voice seemed to reveal some sorrow. « You are too intrepid, » Ibarra replied; « you will not tempt God again .  » « If you had followed me, if we had died, » the young man replied, completing his thought, « at the bottom of the lake, I would have been with my family!  » Ibarra did not remember that his father’s remains lay there. The old women no longer wanted to go to the other baklad, but to withdraw, alleging that the day had begun badly and many misfortunes could occur. « It’s all because we didn’t hear mass! » one sighed. « But what misfortune have we had, ladies? » Ibarra asked. « The The alligator is truly unhappy! « Which proves, » concluded the ex-seminarian, « that in his entire sinful life this reptile has never heard mass. I have never seen him among the numerous alligators that frequent the church. » The pews then moved toward the other baklad, and Andeng had to prepare another sinigang. The day was advancing; the breeze was blowing; the waves were awakening and rippling around the alligator, raising mounds of foam where the sunlight shines, rich in color, as the poet Paterno speaks. Music began again: Iday played the harp; the men played accordions and guitars, more or less in tune, but the one who played the best was Albino, who strummed truly out of tune and lost the beat every moment, or perhaps forgot it and moved on to an entirely different sonata. The other corral was visited with suspicion. Many hoped to find the female alligator there; but nature is tricky, and the net always came out full. Aunt Isable commanded: « The ayungin is good for the sinigang; leave the biâ for the escabeche, the dalay and the buan-buan for pesâ: the dalag can live a long time. Put them in the net so they stay in the water. The lobsters in the pan! The bânak is for roasting, wrapped in banana leaves and stuffed with tomatoes.  » « Leave the rest to serve as a lure: it’s not good to empty the baklad completely, » she added. Then they tried to land on the shore, in that forest of centuries-old trees belonging to Ibarra. There, in the shade and by the crystalline stream, they would have lunch among the flowers or under makeshift tents. Music resonated in the space; The smoke from the kalanes rose joyfully in the form of faint whirlwinds; the water sang inside the burning vessel, perhaps words of consolation for the dead fish, perhaps words of sarcasm and mockery; the alligator’s corpse spun, now displaying its white and mangled belly, now its painted and greenish back, and man, nature’s favorite, was not worried about so many fratricides, as the Brahmins or vegetarians would say. Chapter 24. IN THE FOREST. Early, very early, Father Salví had said his mass and cleansed a dozen filthy souls in a few minutes, which was not his custom. Afterward, after reading some letters that arrived well sealed and sealed, the worthy priest lost his appetite and let the chocolate cool completely. « The father is getting sick, » said the cook as he prepared another cup; « he hasn’t eaten for days: of the six plates I put on the table, he doesn’t touch two.  » « He sleeps badly, » replied the other servant; « he’s had nightmares since he changed rooms. His eyes are getting sunken in more and more, he’s getting thinner by the day, and he’s very yellow. Indeed, it’s pitiful to see Father Salví. He wouldn’t even touch the second cup of hot chocolate, nor try the Cebú pastries: he paced thoughtfully around the spacious living room, crumpling in his bony hands some letters that he reads from time to time. Finally, he called for his carriage, got dressed, and ordered to be taken to the forest where the fateful tree was located, near which the picnic was being held. Once there, Father Salví dispatched his vehicle and headed into the forest alone. A shady path winds laboriously through the thicket and leads to a stream, formed by several hot springs like many on the slopes of Makiling. Its banks are adorned with wild flowers, many of which have not yet received Latin names, but are undoubtedly already known to the golden insects, the butterflies of all sizes and colors, blue and gold, white and black, variegated, brilliant, opaque, carrying rubies and emeralds on their wings, and the thousands of beetles with metallic sheens, dusted with fine gold. The buzzing of these insects, the chirping of the cicada that disturbs day and night, the song of the bird, or the dry sound of the rotten branch that falls, catching everywhere, are the only that disturb the silence of that mysterious place. For some time he wandered among the thick vines, avoiding the thorns that grabbed him by his gingham habit as if to stop him, the tree roots that emerged from the ground, causing the unaccustomed walker to stumble every moment. He suddenly stopped: joyful laughter and fresh voices reached his ears, and the laughter came from the stream and came closer and closer. « I’m going to see if I can find a nest, » said a beautiful and sweet voice that the priest knew. « I would like to see him without him seeing me, I would like to follow him everywhere. » Father Salví hid behind the thick trunk of a tree and began to listen. « So you want to do to him what the priest does to you, who watches you everywhere? » replied a cheerful voice. « Be careful , jealousy makes one weak and hollow-eyed! » « No, it’s not jealousy, it’s pure curiosity! » replied the silver voice, while the cheerful one repeated, « Yes, jealousy, jealousy! » and laughed aloud. « If I were jealous, instead of making myself invisible, I’d make him invisible so that no one could see him.  » « But you wouldn’t see him either, and that’s not right. The best thing would be if we find the nest, we give it to the priest: that way he can watch us without us having to see him, don’t you think?  » « I don’t believe in herons’ nests, » replied another voice; « but if I were ever jealous, I’d know how to watch and make myself invisible…  » « And how? How? Perhaps like Sister Listen? » This schoolgirl memory provoked joyful laughter. « You know how to trick Sister Listen! » From his hiding place, Father Salví saw María Clara, Victoria, and Sinang cruising the river. The three of them were walking with their eyes on the mirror of the waters, searching for the mysterious heron’s nest: they were wet up to their knees, revealing the graceful curves of their legs in the wide folds of their bathing skirts. They wore their hair loose and their arms bare, their busts covered by a shirt with wide stripes and cheerful colors. The three young women, while searching for the impossible, were gathering flowers and vegetables that grew on the bank. The religious Actaeon gazed pale and motionless at that modest Diana: his eyes, shining in their dark orbits, never tired of admiring those white and well-shaped arms, that elegant neck with the beginning of the breast; The tiny, rosy feet playing in the water awakened strange sensations in his impoverished being and made his ardent brain dream of new ideas. Behind a bend in the stream, among thick reeds, those sweet figures disappeared, and their cruel allusions could no longer be heard. Drunk, hesitant, covered in sweat, Father Salví emerged from his hiding place and looked around with wild eyes. He stood still, doubtful; he took a few steps as if trying to follow the young women, but he turned back and, walking along the bank, tried to find the rest of the procession. Some distance away, he saw in the middle of the stream a kind of bath, well fenced, its roof formed by a leafy reed bed: from it came joyful and feminine sounds. It was adorned with palm leaves, flowers, and banners. Further on, he saw a cane bridge and, in the distance, men bathing, while a crowd of servants bustled around improvised kalanes, busy plucking chickens, washing rice, roasting suckling pig, etc. And there, on the opposite bank, in a clearing they had made, many men and women were gathered under a canvas roof, hung partly from the branches of ancient trees, partly from newly erected stakes. There were the second lieutenant, the coadjutor, the governor, the lieutenant major, the schoolteacher, and many former captains and lieutenants, even Captain Basilio, Sinang’s father, an old adversary of the late Don Rafael in an old dispute. Ibarra had told him: We are discussing a right, and discussing does not mean being enemies. And the famous orator of the conservatives enthusiastically accepted the invitation, sending three turkeys and placing his servants at the young man’s disposal. The priest was received with respect and deference by all, even by the ensign. « But where does Your Reverence come from? » he asked, seeing his face covered in scratches and his habit covered with leaves and pieces of dry twigs. « Has Your Reverence fallen?  » « No, I’ve strayed! » replied Father Salví, lowering his eyes to examine his attire. Flasks of lemonade were opened, green coconuts were split open so that those emerging from the bath could drink the fresh water and eat the tender flesh, whiter than milk; the young women also received a rosary of sampagas, interspersed with roses and ilang-ilang, which perfumed their flowing hair. They sat or reclined in hammocks suspended from the branches, or amused themselves by playing around a wide rock, on which were scattered cards, boards, small books, sigüeyes, and small stones. They showed the priest the alligator, but he seemed distracted and only paid attention when they told him that Ibarra had made that wide wound. Otherwise, it was impossible to see the famous and unknown pilot; he had already disappeared before the second lieutenant’s arrival. Finally, María Clara emerged from the bath, accompanied by her friends, fresh as a rose on its first morning when the dew shines with diamond sparkles on its divine petals. Her first smile was for Crisóstomo, and the first cloud of sunshine on her forehead was for Father Salví. He noticed and didn’t sigh. The time for dinner arrived. The priest, the assistant priest, the second lieutenant, the governor, and several other captains with the lieutenant-chief sat at a table presided over by Ibarra. The mothers did not allow any men to eat at the young women’s table. « This time, Albino, you’re not inventing holes like in the pews, » León said to the ex-seminarian. « What? What’s that? » the old women asked. « The pews, ladies, were as whole as this plate, » León explained. « Jesus! » Aunt Isabel exclaimed, smiling. « Do you know anything now, Second Lieutenant, about the criminal who mistreated Father Dámaso? » Friar Salví asked him at the meal. « What criminal, Father Priest? » the second lieutenant asked, looking at the friar through the glass of wine he was emptying. « Whose could it be? » « The one who hit Father Dámaso on the road the day before yesterday afternoon!  » « He hit Father Dámaso? » several voices asked. The assistant priest seemed to smile. « Yes, and Father Dámaso is now in bed! It is believed to be the same Elías who threw you into the puddle, Ensign. » The Ensign turned red with embarrassment or wine. « Well, I thought, » Father Salví continued with a certain mockery, « that you knew about the matter… that the Ensign of the Civil Guard… » The soldier bit his lip and stammered a foolish excuse. At this point, a pale, thin, shabbily dressed woman appeared; no one had seen her coming, for she walked silently and made so little noise that at night she would have been taken for a ghost. « Give that poor woman something to eat! » the old women said. « Hey! Come here! »
But she continued on her way and approached the table where the priest was sitting. He turned around, recognized her, and dropped the knife from his hand. « Give this woman something to eat! » Ibarra ordered. « The night is dark, and children are disappearing! » the beggar woman murmured. But at the sight of the second lieutenant who addressed her, the woman became frightened and ran off, disappearing into the trees. « Who is that? » she asked. « An unfortunate woman who has been driven mad by fright and pain! » Don Filipo replied. « She has been like this for four days.  » « Is she perhaps a certain Sisa? » Ibarra asked with interest. « Your soldiers have arrested her, » the lieutenant-chief continued with some bitterness. « They have taken her all over the town for some unknown reason concerning her children that… they have not been able to clarify. » « What? » asked the ensign, turning to the priest. « Is she perhaps the mother of your two sacristans? » The priest nodded. “They’ve disappeared without anything being discovered about them!” added Don Filipo sternly, looking at the gobernadorcillo, who lowered his eyes. “Seek out that woman!” Crisóstomo ordered the servants. “I have promised to work to discover the whereabouts of her children… ” “You say they’ve disappeared?” asked the ensign. “Have your sacristans disappeared, Father Curé? ” He drained the glass of wine he had in front of him and nodded in agreement. “Good heavens, Father Curé!” exclaimed the ensign with a mocking laugh, joyful at the thought of revenge; “some of Chapter 25. R.’s pesos have disappeared, and my sergeant is woken up very early to go and search for them.” Two sacristans disappear, and Your Excellency doesn’t say anything, and you, Captain… It’s also true that you… And he didn’t finish his sentence, but instead burst out laughing, dipping his spoon into the red flesh of a wild papaya. The priest, confused and losing his mind, replied: « It’s that I have to answer for the money…  » « Good answer, reverend pastor of souls! » interrupted the ensign with his mouth full. « Good answer, holy man!  » Ibarra wanted to intervene, but Father Salví, making an effort within himself, replied with a forced smile: « And do you know, Ensign, what is being said about the disappearance of those boys? No? Well, ask your soldiers!  » « What? » he exclaimed, losing his joy. « It is said that several shots were fired on the night of their disappearance!  » « Several shots? » repeated the ensign, looking at those present. They nodded in the affirmative. Father Salví replied slowly and with cruel mockery: « Come on, I see that you neither catch criminals nor know what those in your household are doing, and yet you want to become a preacher and teach others their duty. You must know the saying: ‘The madman knows more in his own house… ‘ » « Gentlemen! » interrupted Crisóstomo, seeing that the ensign was turning pale; « in this regard, I would like to know what you have to say about a project of mine. I intend to entrust this madwoman to the care of a good doctor, and in the meantime, with your help and advice, look for her children. » The return of the servants, who had been unable to find the madwoman, finally pacified the two enemies, turning the conversation to another subject. After the meal, and while tea and coffee were being served, the young and old divided themselves into several groups. Some took up the boards, others the cards, but the young women, curious to know the future, preferred to ask questions of the Wheel of Fortune. « Come on, Señor Ibarra! » shouted Captain Basilio, who was a little cheerful. « We have a lawsuit that’s been going on for fifteen years, and there’s no judge in the Court to decide it: let’s see if we can finish it on the board.  » « At once and with pleasure! » replied the young man. « Just a moment, while the ensign takes his leave. » Upon learning of this game, all the old men who understood chess gathered around the board: the game was interesting and attracted even the laymen. The old women, however, surrounded the priest to converse with him about spiritual matters, but Brother Salví didn’t deem the place or the occasion appropriate, for he gave vague answers and his sad and somewhat irritated glances were fixed everywhere except on his interlocutors. The game began with great solemnity. « If the game ends in a draw, we’ll conclude, that’s understood, » Ibarra said. Halfway through the game, Ibarra received a telegram that made his eyes sparkle and his face turn pale. He put it untouched in his briefcase, but not without glancing at the group of young men, who continued to question Fate amid laughter and shouts. « Check to the king! » said the young man. Captain Basilio had no choice but to hide him behind the queen. « Check to the queen! » he repeated, threatening it with his rook, which was defended by a pawn. Unable to cover the queen or withdraw it because of the king behind him, Captain Basilio asked for time to reflect. « With pleasure! » Ibarra replied. « I had something to say right now to some people at that meeting. » And he stood up, granting his opponent a quarter of an hour. Iday had the cardboard disk on which were written forty-eight questions, Albino the book of answers. « Lie! It’s not true! Lie! » Sinang cried, half-tearfully. « What’s the matter with you? » María Clara asked him. « Imagine, I ask: When will I have my trial? » I throw the dice, and that old-fashioned priest reads in the book: « When the frog grows hair! » Do you think so? » And Sinang makes a face at the ex-seminarian, who continues laughing. « Who told you to ask that question? » his cousin Victoria tells him. « Just asking it is enough to deserve such answers! » « Ask! » they said to Ibarra, presenting him with the wheel. « We have decided that whoever gets the best answer would receive a gift from the others. We have all asked.  » « And who got the best?  » « Maria Clara, Maria Clara! » Sinang replied. « We made him ask, whether he wants to or not: Is his love faithful and constant? » And the book answered… But Maria Clara, all red-faced, covered her mouth with her hands and wouldn’t let her continue. « Then give me the wheel! » Crisóstomo said, smiling. « I ask: Will I succeed in my current undertaking?  » « What an ugly question! » Sinang exclaimed. Ibarra threw the dice, and according to their number they looked for the page and the line. « Dreams are dreams! » Albino read. Ibarra took out the telegraph report and opened it, trembling. « This time, your book has lied! » he exclaimed, full of joy. « Read it! School project approved, another sentence in your favor.  » « What does this mean? » they asked him. « Didn’t you say that we have to give something to the one who gets the best answer? » he asked, his voice trembling with emotion as he carefully tore the paper in two. « Yes! Yes!  » « Well, this is my gift, » he said, handing half to María Clara . « In the town I am going to build a school for boys and girls; this school will be my gift.  » « And what does that other piece mean?  » « I will give this to the one who gets the worst answer.  » « Well, me! Then it’s me! » cried Sinang. Ibarra gave him the paper and quickly walked away. « And what does this mean? » But the happy young man was already far away and was returning to his game of chess. Fra Salví approached the cheerful circle of young people as if distracted. María Clara wiped away a tear of joy. Then the laughter ceased and the conversation fell silent. The priest looked at the young people, unable to say a single word; they waited for him to speak and remained silent. « What is this? » he finally managed to ask, picking up the little book and half -leafing through it. « The Wheel of Fortune, a gambling book, » León replied. « Don’t you know it’s a sin to believe in these things? » he said, angrily tearing up the pages. Cries of surprise and disgust escaped from everyone’s lips. « A greater sin is to dispose of something that is not yours against the owner’s will! » Albino replied, standing up. « Father Priest, that is called stealing, and God and men forbid it. » María Clara clasped her hands and looked with tearful eyes at the remains of that book that had recently made her so happy. Contrary to the expectations of those present, Fray Salví did not reply to Albino. He stood watching the torn leaves flutter, some ending up in the woods, others in the water. Then he staggered away with both hands on his head. He stopped for a few seconds talking to Ibarra, who accompanied him to one of the carriages, ready to carry or convey the guests. « That joyless man is right to leave! » Sinang murmured. « He has a face that seems to say: Don’t laugh, I know your sins. » After the gift he had given his fiancée, Ibarra was so happy that he began to play without thinking or lingering. carefully examining the state of the pieces. The result was that, although Captain Basilio was now defending himself only with difficulty, the game was tied, thanks to many mistakes the young man made later. « We dismiss, we dismiss! » Captain Basilio said happily. « We dismiss! » the young man repeated, « whatever the judges’ verdict may have given. » They both shook hands and shook them effusively. While those present were celebrating this event, which put an end to a lawsuit that had already annoyed both sides, the sudden arrival of four Civil Guards and a sergeant, all armed and with fixed bayonets, disturbed the joy and introduced terror into the circle of women. « Everyone stop! » shouted the sergeant. « Shoot anyone who moves! » Despite this brutal boast, Ibarra got up and approached him. « What do you want? » he asked. « That you hand over to us right now a criminal named Elías, who was serving as their pilot this morning, » he answered in a threatening tone. « A criminal? The pilot? You must be mistaken! » Ibarra replied. « No, sir: this Elías is once again accused of having laid his hand on a priest…  » « Oh! And is that the pilot?  » « The same one, according to what we’re told. You admit people of ill repute to your festivities, Señor Ibarra.  » Ibarra looked him up and down and answered with supreme contempt: « I don’t have to give you an account of my actions! At our festivities everyone is welcome, and if you had come, you yourself would have found a place at the table, like your lieutenant, who was among us two hours ago. » And with that, he turned his back on him. The sergeant bit his mustache, and considering it to be his weakest part, ordered them to search everywhere and among the trees for the pilot whose address they had on a piece of paper. Don Filipo said to him: « Note that those address correspond to nine-tenths of the natives; don’t make a false step! » Finally, the soldiers returned, saying they hadn’t been able to see a single bench or any man who might have aroused suspicion. The sergeant stammered a few words and left as he had come. Little by little, joy returned, questions rained down, and comments abounded. « So that’s the Elías who threw the second lieutenant into a puddle! » León said thoughtfully. « And how did that happen? How did it happen? » some curious onlookers asked.  » They say that in September, on a very rainy day, the second lieutenant met a man carrying firewood. » The street was very muddy, and only at the edge was a narrow passage passable by one person. They say that the ensign, instead of halting his horse, spurred his horse, shouting at the man to turn back. The man seemed to have little desire to retrace his steps because of the load he was carrying on his shoulder, or he didn’t want to sink into the puddle, and continued onward. The ensign, irritated, tried to run him over, but the man grabbed a piece of wood and hit the horse on the head with such force that the horse fell, dragging its rider into the mud. They also say that the man continued calmly on his way, ignoring the five bullets that the ensign, blinded by fury and mud, fired at him one after the other from the puddle . Since the man was completely unknown to him, it was assumed that he was the famous Elías, who had arrived in the province some months earlier, from unknown where, and who had made himself known to the civil guards of some villages for similar deeds. « Is he, then, a tulisán? » Victoria asked, shuddering. « I don’t believe it, because they say he once fought against the tulisáns who were looting a house.  » « He doesn’t have the face of a criminal! » Sinang added. « No, only his gaze is very sad: I haven’t seen him smile all morning, » María Clara replied thoughtfully. Thus the afternoon passed, and it was time to return to the village. In the last rays of the dying sun, they left the forest, passing in silence near the mysterious tomb of Ibarra’s ancestor. Then the cheerful conversations resumed, lively and full of color, under those branches, unaccustomed to hearing so many accents. The trees seemed sad; the vines swayed as if to say: « Farewell, youth! Farewell, a day’s dream! » And now, by the light of the reddish, gigantic cane torches and to the sound of the guitars, let us leave them on their way to the village. The groups thin out, the lights go out, the singing ceases, the guitar falls silent as they approach the dwellings of the men. Put on your masks, for you are once again among your brothers! Chapter 26. AT THE PHILOSOPHER’S HOUSE. Early the next morning, Juan Crisóstomo Ibarra, after visiting his lands, went to the house of old Tasio. Complete tranquility reigned in the garden, for the swallows, fluttering around the eaves, made hardly a sound. Moss grew on the old wall where a kind of ivy climbed, bordering the windows. That little house seemed like a mansion of silence. Ibarra carefully tied his horse to a post and, walking almost on tiptoe, crossed the clean and scrupulously maintained garden. He climbed the stairs and, since the door was open, entered. The first thing that met his eyes was the old man, bent over a book in which he seemed to be writing. On the walls were collections of insects and leaves, among maps and old shelves full of books and manuscripts. The old man was so absorbed in his occupation that he only noticed the young man’s arrival when the latter, not wanting to disturb him, tried to withdraw. « How were you there? » he asked, looking at Ibarra with some surprise. « Excuse me, » he replied, « I see you’re very busy. » « Indeed, I was writing a little, but it’s not urgent, and I want to rest. May I be of any use to you?  » « A lot! » Ibarra replied, approaching; « but… » And he glanced at the book on the table. « What? » he exclaimed in surprise; « are you dedicated to deciphering hieroglyphics?  » « No! » the old man replied, offering him a chair; « I don’t understand Egyptian or even Coptic, but I understand the writing system somewhat, and I write in hieroglyphics.  » « Do you write in hieroglyphics? And why? » the young man asked, doubting what he was seeing and hearing. « So they can’t read me now! » Ibarra stared at him, wondering if the old man was in fact crazy. He quickly examined the book to see if this was true and saw well-drawn animals, circles, semicircles, flowers, feet , hands, arms, etc. « And why do you write if you don’t want to be read? » « Because I don’t write for this generation, I write for other ages. If this one could read me, it would burn my books, the work of my entire life; on the other hand, the generation that deciphers these characters will be an educated generation; they will understand me and say: Not everyone slept through the night of our grandparents! The mystery or these curious characters will save my work from the ignorance of men, just as mystery and strange rites have saved many truths from the destructive priestly classes.  » « And in what language do you write? » Ibarra asked after a pause. « In ours, in Tagalog.  » « And are hieroglyphic symbols useful? » –If it weren’t for the difficulty of the drawing, which demands time and patience, I would almost say that they are better than the Latin alphabet. Ancient Egyptian had our vowels; our o, which is only final and is not like the Spanish, but an intermediate vowel between oyu; like us, Egyptian had no true e sound; we find in it our ha and our kha, which we don’t have in the Latin alphabet as we use it in Spanish. For example: in this word mukhâ,–he added, pointing in the book,–I transcribe the syllable ha more properly with this fish figure than with the Latin h, which in Europe is pronounced in different ways. For another aspiration Less strongly, for example, in this word hain, where the h is less strong, I use this lion’s bust, or these three lotus flowers depending on the number of vowels. What’s more, I have the nasal sound, which also doesn’t exist in the Spanish-language Latin alphabet. I repeat that if it weren’t for the difficulty of the drawing, which must be perfect, hieroglyphics could almost be adopted, but this very difficulty forces me to be concise and to say no more than what is necessary. This work also keeps me company when my guests from China and Japan leave. « What?  » « Can’t you hear them? My guests are the swallows; one is missing this year; some bad boy, Chinese or Japanese, must have caught it.  » « How do you know they come from those countries?  » « Simply: a few years ago, before leaving, I would tie a piece of paper to their feet with the name of the Philippines in English, assuming they wouldn’t have to go far, and because English is spoken in almost all these regions. » For years my little note received no reply, until finally I had it written in a Chinese person, and lo and behold, the following November they returned with other little notes that I had deciphered: one was written in a Chinese person and was a greeting from the banks of the Hoang-ho, and the other, the Chinese person I consulted supposes, must be Japanese. But I am keeping you busy with these things and am not asking how I can be of use to you. « I came to speak to you about a matter of importance, » the young man replied. « Yesterday afternoon…  » « Have they arrested that wretch? » the old man interrupted, full of interest. « Are you talking about Elías? How did you know?  » « I saw the Muse of the Civil Guard.  » « The Muse of the Civil Guard! And who is this Muse?  » « The wife of the second lieutenant, whom you did not invite to your party. Yesterday morning, news of what had happened with the alligator spread throughout the town.  » The Muse of the Civil Guard is as penetrating as she is malicious, and she surmised that the pilot must be the daredevil who threw her husband into the puddle and beat Padre Dámaso; and since she reads the reports her husband was to receive, he had scarcely arrived home, drunk and out of his mind, when , to wreak vengeance on you, she dispatched the sergeant and the soldiers to disturb the joy of the festivities. Take care! Eva was a good woman, from the hands of God… Doña Consolación, they say, is evil, and no one knows whose hands she came from! To be good, a woman needs to have been at least once either a maiden or a mother. Ibarra smiled slightly and replied, taking some papers from his briefcase: « My late father used to consult you on some matters, and I remember that all he had to do was congratulate himself on having followed your advice. I have a small undertaking on my hands, whose success I need to ensure. » And Ibarra briefly described the school project he had offered to his fiancée, laying out the plans he had received from Manila before the astonished philosopher . « I would like you to tell me who I should recruit first in the town to ensure the project’s success. You know the inhabitants well; I’ve just arrived, and I’m practically a foreigner in my own country.  » Old Tasio examined the plans before him with tear-stained eyes . « What you’re going to accomplish was my dream, the dream of a poor madman! » he exclaimed, moved; « and now, the first thing I advise you is never to come and consult me ​​again.  » The young man looked at him in surprise. « Because sensible people, » he continued with bitter irony, « would consider you mad too. People believe those who don’t think like them to be mad; that’s why they consider me such, and I’m grateful for it, because woe betide me! The day they try to restore my sanity, That day they would deprive me of the small amount of freedom I had bought at the cost of my reputation for being reasonable. And who knows if they are right? I do not think or live according to their laws; my principles, my ideals are different. The little governor enjoys a reputation for being reasonable among them because, having learned nothing more than to serve hot chocolate and suffer the bad temper of Padre Dámaso, Now he’s rich, he troubles the petty destinies of his fellow citizens, and sometimes he even talks about justice. That’s the man of talent! the common people think; look, he hasn’t become great with anything! But I, I have inherited fortune, consideration, I have studied, and now I am poor; they haven’t entrusted me with even the most ridiculous position, and everyone says: That’s a madman; he doesn’t understand life! The priest calls me a philosopher by nickname, and implies that I am a charlatan who boasts about what he learned in the university classrooms, when that is precisely what is of least use to me. Perhaps I am truly the madman and they are the sane ones; who can say? And the old man shook his head as if to dispel a thought and continued: « What I can also advise you is to consult the priest, the little governor, all the people of position: they will give you bad, clumsy, or useless advice, but consulting does not mean obeying; You should appear to follow them whenever possible and make it clear that you are acting in accordance with them. Ibarra reflected for a moment and then replied: « The advice is good, but difficult to follow. Could I not carry out my idea without a shadow being cast upon it? Could not goodness make its way through everything, and that truth need not borrow clothing from error?  » « No one loves the naked truth for that reason! » the old man replied. « That is good in theory, feasible in the world that youth dreams of. There is the schoolmaster who has been agitated in the void; the heart of a child who desired good and only received mockery and laughter. You have told me that you are a foreigner in your country, and I believe it. From the first day of your arrival, you began by wounding the pride of a religious man, who has the reputation of being a saint among the people and a wise man among his own. God grant that this step has not determined your future. » Do not think that because the Dominicans and Augustinians look with disdain on the gingham habit [91], the cord, and the indecent footwear; because a great doctor of Saint Thomas once recalled that Pope Innocent III had described the statutes of this order as more suitable for swine than for men, that they do not all join hands to affirm what a procurator once said: The most insignificant layman is powerful enough to do more than the government with all its soldiers. Cave ne cadas [92]. Gold is very powerful; the golden calf has often knocked God down from his altars, even since the time of Moses. « I am not so pessimistic, nor do I consider life in my country so dangerous, » Ibarra replied, smiling. « I believe that these fears are a little exaggerated, and I hope to be able to carry out all my plans without encountering great resistance from that quarter.  » « Yes, if they extend their hand; no, if they withdraw it. » All your efforts would be dashed against the walls of the parish house with only a wave of the friar’s cord or a shake of his habit; the mayor, under any pretext, would deny you tomorrow what he has granted today; no mother would allow her son to attend school, and then all your efforts would have a counterproductive effect: they would discourage those who later wanted to attempt generous enterprises. « However, » replied the young man, « I cannot believe in this power you speak of, and even supposing it, admitting it, I would still have on my side the sensible people, the government that is animated by very good intentions, has great aims, and sincerely wants the good of the Philippines.  » « The government! The government! » murmured the philosopher, raising his eyes to look at the ceiling. « No matter how animated it may be by the desire to make the country great for its own benefit and for the mother country, Even though the generous spirit of the Catholic Monarchs may still remind some officials and they may think it alone, the government does not see, does not hear, does not judge anything other than what the priest or the provincial makes it see, hear and judge; it is convinced that it only relies on them, that if it sustains itself it is because they support it, that if it lives it is because they allow it to live and the day they are gone, it will fall. like a mannequin that has lost its support. The government is intimidated by the idea of ​​raising the people, and the people with the forces of the government: from this originates a simple game that resembles what happens to the fearful when visiting gloomy places: they mistake their own shadows for ghosts and their own echoes for strange voices. As long as the government does not come to an understanding with the country, it will not escape this tutelage; it will live like those imbecile young people who tremble at the voice of their tutor, whose condescension they beg for. The government does not dream of any robust future; it is an arm; the head is the convent, and because of this inertia with which it allows itself to be dragged from abyss to abyss, it becomes a shadow, its entity disappears, and, weak and incapable, it entrusts everything to mercenary hands. « Compare, if not, our system of government with that of the countries you have visited…  » « Oh! » interrupted Ibarra; « that is asking too much. Let us be content with seeing that our people do not complain or suffer like the people of other countries, and that is thanks to religion and the benignity of their rulers.  » « The people do not complain because they have no voice, they do not move because they are lethargic, and you say that they do not suffer because they have not seen what their hearts bleed. But one day you will see it and hear it, and woe to those who base their strength on ignorance or fanaticism! woe to those who revel in deception and work at night believing that everyone is asleep! » When the light of day illuminates the abortion of shadows, the horrific reaction will come: so much force, compressed for centuries, so much poison distilled drop by drop, so many stifled sighs will come to light and explode… Who will then pay those accounts that the people present from time to time and that History preserves for us in its bloody pages? « God, the government, and religion will not allow that day to come! » replied Crisóstomo, impressed despite himself. « The Philippines is religious and loves Spain; the Philippines will know how much the nation does for it. There are abuses, yes, there are defects, I will not deny it, but Spain works to introduce reforms to correct them, it matures projects, it is not selfish.  » « I know, and this is the worst of it. » Reforms that come from above are nullified in the lower spheres, thanks to the vices of all, thanks, for example, to the greedy desire to get rich quickly and to the ignorance of the people who tolerate everything. Abuses are not corrected by a royal decree as long as a zealous authority does not oversee their execution, as long as freedom of speech is not granted against the excesses of petty tyrants: projects remain projects, abuses remain abuses, and the minister, satisfied, will sleep more peacefully, however. Furthermore, if a high-ranking figure comes along with great and generous ideas, he soon begins to hear, while behind his back they consider him a madman: Your Excellency doesn’t know the country, Your Excellency doesn’t know the character of the indigenous people, Your Excellency is going to lose them, Your Excellency would do well to trust so-and-so, etc. And since Your Excellency didn’t really know the country, which until now he had placed in America, and also has defects and weaknesses like any human being, he lets himself be convinced. His Excellency also remembers that to obtain the position, he had to sweat a lot and suffer even more, that he only has it for three years, that he is getting old and it is necessary not to think about quixotic tricks but about his future: a small hotel in Madrid, a small house in the country , and a good income to live in luxury at court; this is what he should have sought in the Philippines. Let us not ask for miracles, let us not ask that someone who comes as a foreigner to make his fortune and then leave, be interested in the good of the country. What does he care about the gratitude or the curses of a people he does not know, where he does not have his memories, where he does not have his loves? Glory, to be pleasing, must resound in the ears of those we love, in the atmosphere of our home or of the country that will guard our ashes: we want glory to sit over our tomb to warm with its rays the cold of death, so that we are not completely reduced to nothing, but that something of us remains. We cannot promise any of this to those who come to look after our destinies. And the worst of all is that they leave when they begin to understand their duty. But we are straying from our subject. « No, before returning to it, I need to clarify certain things, » the young man interrupted briskly. « I can grant that the government ignores the people, but I believe that the people know the government even less. There are useless officials—bad ones, if you will— but there are also good ones, and if these can’t do anything, it’s because they are faced with an inert mass: the population, which takes little part in the things that concern it. But I didn’t come to argue with you on this point: I came to ask your advice, and you tell me to bow my head before grotesque idols.  » « Yes, and I repeat, because here you have to bow your head or let it fall.  » « Should I lower my head or let it fall? » Ibarra repeated thoughtfully. « It ‘s a difficult dilemma! But why? Is love for my country incompatible with love for Spain? Is it necessary to lower oneself to be a good Christian, to prostitute one’s conscience in order to achieve a good goal? I love my country, the Philippines, because I owe my life and my happiness to it, and because every man should love his country; I love Spain, the country of my ancestors, because, despite everything, the Philippines owes and will owe its happiness and its future to it; I am a Catholic, I keep the faith of my fathers pure , and I don’t see why I should lower my head when I can raise it, and hand it over to my enemies when I can trample them underfoot. » « Because the field where you want to sow is in the power of your enemies, and you have no strength against them… It is necessary that you first kiss that hand that… » But the young man did not let him continue and exclaimed, raptly: « Kiss! But you forget that among them they have killed my father, they have thrown him from his grave… but I, who am the son, do not forget, and if I do not avenge you, it is because I look out for the prestige of religion.  » The old philosopher lowered his head. « Mr. Ibarra, » he replied slowly, « if you retain those memories, memories which I cannot advise you to forget, abandon the enterprise you are attempting and seek the good of your countrymen elsewhere. The enterprise calls for another man because, to carry it out, one not only needs to have money and desire; in our country, self-denial, tenacity, and faith are also required, because the ground is not prepared; it is sown only with discord. » Ibarra understood the value of these words, but he must not be discouraged; The memory of Maria Clara was in his mind: it was necessary to carry out his offer. « Does your experience not suggest more than this harsh means? » he asked in a low voice. The old man took him by the arm and led him to the window. A fresh wind, a precursor to the north, was blowing; before his eyes stretched the garden, bordered by the extensive wood that served as a park. « Why should we not do what that weak stem, laden with roses and buds, does? » said the philosopher, pointing to a beautiful rosebush. « The wind blows, shakes it, and it bends as if hiding its precious burden. If the stem were to remain straight, it would break, the wind would scatter the flowers, and the buds would be ruined. The wind passes, and the stem rises again, proud with its treasure: who will accuse it of having yielded to necessity? There, see that gigantic kupang [93], majestically moving its airy foliage where the eagle nests. I brought it from the forest, a weak plant; With thin reeds I supported its stem for months. If I had brought it large and full of life, it would certainly not have lived here: the wind would have shaken it before its roots could take root in the ground, before the ground could firm around it and provide the proper support for its size and height. This is how you will end up, a plant transplanted from Europe to this stony soil, if you do not seek support and become small. You are in poor condition, alone, elevated: the ground wavers, the sky announces a storm, and the tops of his family’s trees have proven to attract lightning. It is not courage, but temerity, to fight alone against all that exists; no one blames the pilot who takes refuge in a port at the first gust of a storm. To get out when the bullet passes is not cowardice; what is wrong is to defy it, only to fall and never get up again. « And would this sacrifice produce the fruits I hope for? » Ibarra asked. « Would the priest believe in me and forget his grievance? Would they openly help me for the benefit of the education that competes with the convents for the country’s riches? Can’t they feign friendship, appear to protect him, and from behind, in the shadows, fight him, undermine him, strike him in the heel to make him falter more quickly than attacking him head-on? Given the background you suppose, anything can be expected.  » The old man remained silent, unable to answer. He thought for a while and replied: « If such a thing were to happen, if the enterprise were to fail, you would be consoled by the thought of having done everything in your power, and even so, something would have been gained: laying the first stone, sowing, after the storm breaks, some seed may perhaps germinate, survive the catastrophe, save the crop from destruction, and later serve as seed for the children of the dead sower. The example may encourage others who are only afraid to begin. » Ibarra considered these reasons, saw his situation, and understood that, with all his pessimism, the old man was quite right. « I believe you! » he exclaimed, shaking his hand. « It was not in vain that I hoped for good advice. Today I will go and speak to the priest, who, after all, has done me no harm and must be good, since not all of them are like my father’s persecutor. » I also have to appeal to you on behalf of that unfortunate madwoman and her children: I trust in God and in men. He said goodbye to the old man and, mounting his horse, departed. « Attention! » murmured the pessimistic philosopher, following him with his eyes; let us observe carefully how fate will unfold the comedy that began in the cemetery. This time he was truly mistaken: the comedy had begun long before. Chapter 27. THE EVE OF THE FEAST It is November 10th, the eve of the feast. Breaking away from the usual monotony, the town is engaged in incomparable activity in the house, in the street, in the church, in the cockpit, and in the countryside: the windows are covered with flags and damasks of various colors; the space is filled with explosions and music; the air is impregnated and saturated with rejoicing. Various preserves of local fruits are arranged in gaily colored glass jars by the dalaga on a small table, which is covered with a white embroidered tablecloth. In the courtyard, chickens squawk, hens cluck, pigs grunt, frightened by the joys of the people. Servants go up and down carrying gilded dishes and silverware: here they quarrel over a broken plate, there they laugh at the simple peasant woman: everywhere they command, whisper, shout, make comments, conjecture, and no one encourages one another, and everything is confusion, noise, and bustle. And all this effort and all this effort is for the guest, known or unknown; it is to entertain some person who perhaps has never been seen before, nor will be seen again later; so that the stranger, the foreigner, the friend, the enemy, the Filipino, the Spaniard, the poor, the rich, all leave happy and satisfied. They are not even asked for gratitude, nor are they expected to do harm to the hospitable family during or after digestion. The rich, those who have been to Manila at some point and have seen more than the others, have bought beer, champagne, liqueurs, wines, and foodstuffs from Europe, of which they will barely taste a mouthful or drink a sip. Their table is gallantly set. In the middle is a large artificial pineapple, very well imitated, into which are stuck toothpicks, elaborately cut by the prisoners during their hours of rest. Already in the picture are a fan, a bouquet of flowers, a bird, a rose, a palm tree or some chains, all carved from a single piece of wood: the artist is a forced one, the instrument is a bad knife and the inspiration the voice of the baton maker. –On the sides of this pineapple, which is called a palillera, rise on glass fruit bowls, pyramids of oranges, lanzones, ates, chicory and even sleeves [94] despite it being November. Then, on wide platters, on openwork papers painted in brilliant colors, are presented hams from Europe, China, a large cake in the form of Agnus Dei or a dove, the Holy Spirit perhaps, stuffed turkeys, etc., and between these the appetizers are jars of acharas [95] with fanciful designs, made of the bonga flower and other vegetables and fruits, artistically cut and stuck with syrup to the sides of the decanters. The glass globes, passed down from father to son, are cleaned; the copper rings are made to shine; the kerosene lamps are stripped of their red covers, which keep them free of flies and mosquitoes for the year and render them useless; the prismatic glass beads and pendants sway, clash harmoniously, sing, seeming to take part in the celebration, rejoicing and breaking the light, reflecting the colors of the rainbow on the white wall. The children play, have fun, chase colors, trip, break tubes, but this doesn’t prevent the joy of the celebration from continuing: at another time of year, the tears in their round eyes would tell a different story . Just as these venerable lamps emerge, the young woman’s handiwork also emerges from its hiding places: crocheted veils, rugs, artificial flowers; Ancient glass trays appear, their bottoms depicting a miniature lake with small fish, alligators, mollusks, seaweed, corals, and brightly colored glass rocks. These trays are covered with cigars, cigarettes, and tiny buyos, twisted by the delicate fingers of the single women. The floor of the house shines like a mirror; piña or jusi curtains [96] adorn the doors; glass or paper lanterns in pink, blue, green, or red hang from the windows ; the house is filled with flowers and flowerpots placed on pedestals of Chinese earthenware; even the saints are adorned; images and relics are dressed up for celebration; the dust is shaken off, their windows are cleaned, and bouquets of flowers hang from their frames. Along the streets, from time to time, rise whimsical arches of carved cane in a thousand ways, called sinkaban, surrounded by kalushús [97], the mere sight of which gladdens the hearts of the young people. Surrounding the church courtyard is the large and expensive awning, supported by cane trunks, for the procession to pass through. Beneath it, the children play, run, climb, jump, and tear the new shirts they were supposed to wear on the day of the festival. Over there, in the plaza, the stage has been erected, a stage made of cane, nipa, and wood: there, the comedy of Tondo will perform wonders and compete with the gods in improbable miracles; there , Marianito, Chananay, Balbino, Ratia, Carvajal, Yeyeng, Liceria, etc., will sing and dance . The Filipino loves the theater and attends dramatic performances with passion; he listens silently to the singing, admires the dancing and mime, and doesn’t whistle, but neither does he applaud. Doesn’t he like the performance? Then he chews his buyo or leaves without disturbing the others who perhaps find pleasure in it. Only occasionally do the common people howl when the playwrights kiss or embrace the actresses, but it never goes any further. In the past, only dramas were performed; the town poet would compose a play that necessarily had to have fights every two minutes, a joke, and terrifying metamorphoses. But since the artists of Tondo began to fight every fifteen seconds, they had two jokes and got into even more improbable things, they killed their provincial colleagues. The little governor was fond of it, and in agreement with the priest, he chose the comedy: Prince Villardo or the Slaves Torn from the Infamous Cave, a play with magic and Fireworks. From time to time, the bells ring joyfully, those same bells that had tolled so sadly ten days before. Wheels of fire and mortars thunder in the air: the Filipino pyrotechnician, who learned his art without any known teacher, is about to display his skills, preparing bulls, castles of fire with flares, paper balloons inflated with hot air, wheels of diamonds, bombs, rockets, etc. Do distant chords resonate? For the boys are already running hastily toward the outskirts of town to welcome the marching bands. There are five hired bands, in addition to three orchestras. The music from Pagsanghan, the property of the notary, must not be missing, nor that from the SP de T. village, famous then because it was conducted by Maestro Austria, the vagabond Corporal Mariano, who, they say, brings fame and harmony to the debut of his baton. The musicians praise his funeral march, El Sauce, and deplore the fact that they had no musical training, for with their genius they would have brought glory to their country. The band enters the town playing cheerful marches, followed by ragged or half-naked boys: some wearing their brother’s shirt, some their father’s trousers. As soon as the music has stopped, they know it by heart, hum it, whistle it with a strange intonation, and give their opinion. Meanwhile, relatives, friends, strangers, and gamblers arrive in wagons, carriages, or cars with their best roosters, carrying sacks of gold, ready to risk their fortunes on the green baize or inside the cockpit. « The ensign earns fifty pesos a night! » a short, plump man murmurs in the ear of the newcomers. Captain Tiago is about to come and set up a bank; Captain Joaquín is bringing eighteen thousand. There will be liam pó: the Chinese man Carlos is putting it up with a capital of ten thousand. From Tanauan, Lipa, and Batangas, as well as from Santa Cruz, come big points. It’s going to be big! It’s going to be big! But here’s some chocolate. This year Captain Tiago won’t be peeling us, like last year: he has only paid for three masses of grace, and I have a mutyâ [98] of cocoa. And how is the family? « Well, well! Thank you! » the strangers answered. « And Father Dámaso?  » « Father Dámaso will preach in the morning and will work with us at night.  » « Better, better! There’s no danger then!  » « Safe, we’re safe! » The Chinese man Carlos lets out, too! And the plump man makes a gesture with his fingers, like someone counting coins. Outside the village, the mountaineers, the Kasama, put on their best clothes to take well-fed hens , wild boars, deer, and birds to the houses of the capitalist partners; some load firewood onto heavy carts, others fruit and the rarest of the forest-growing aerial plants; others carry broad-leaved biga [99] and fiery-colored tika tika [100] flowers to adorn the doors of the houses. But the greatest excitement, now bordering on tumult, is over there on a sort of wide plateau a few steps from Ibarra’s house . Pulleys creak, shouts are heard, the metallic sound of a stone being broken, a hammer driving a nail, an axe hewing a beam. A crowd digs the earth and opens a wide, deep ditch; Others line up stones taken from the town’s quarries, unload carts, pile up sand, set up winches and capstans… « Over here! Over there! Alive! » shouted an old man with a lively and intelligent face, who carried a copper-edged meter stick around a plumb line for a walking stick. He was the foreman, Ñor Juan, architect, bricklayer, carpenter, whitewasher, locksmith, stonecutter, and sometimes sculptor. « It must be finished right now! Tomorrow we can’t work, and the day after tomorrow is the ceremony! Alive!  » « Make the hole so that it fits exactly with this cylinder! » he said to some stonecutter who were polishing a large quadrangular stone; within this, our names will be preserved. And he repeated to each new stranger who approached what he had already said a thousand times. he had said. « Do you know what we’re going to build? Well, it’s a school, a model of its kind, like those in Germany, or better yet! The plan was drawn up by the architect Señor R. , and I—I’m supervising the work! Yes, sir, look, this is going to be a palace with two wings: one for the boys and one for the girls. Here in the middle is a large garden with three fountains; there, on the sides, groves, small vegetable gardens so the children can plant and cultivate plants during recess hours, making the most of their time and not wasting it. See how deep the foundations are! Three meters sixty -five centimeters! The building is going to have cellars, underground passages, cells for the lazy ones, close, very close to the games and the gymnasium so that the punished can hear how the diligent ones are having fun. Do you see that large space? That will be the esplanade for running and jumping in the open air. » The girls will have a garden with benches, swings, avenues for playing jump rope, [101] fountains, birdhouses, etc. This is going to be magnificent! And Sir Juan rubbed his hands together, thinking of the fame he was going to acquire. Foreigners would come to see it and ask: « Who is the great architect who built this? » « Don’t you know? It’s incredible that you don’t know Sir Juan. You must have come from very far away! » they would all reply. With these thoughts in mind, he went from one end to the other, inspecting and reviewing everything. « I find too much wood for a derrick! » he said to a yellow-haired man who was directing some workmen. « I would have enough with three long pieces to form a tripod and three more to hold them together.  » « Abá! » [102] replied the yellow-haired man, smiling in a peculiar way; « the more display we give to the work, the greater the effect we shall achieve. » The whole thing will look better, more important, and they’ll say: « How much work has been done! You’ll see, you’ll see what a load I’ll raise! » And then I’ll adorn it with banners, garlands of leaves and flowers … you’ll say later that you were right to admit me among your workers, and Señor Ibarra could not wish for more. And the man laughed and smiled; Señor Juan smiled too and shook his head. Some distance away, two kiosks were seen connected by a kind of trellis covered with banana leaves. The schoolmaster, with about thirty boys, was weaving wreaths and fastening banners to the thin cane pillars covered with tattered white canvas. « Take care that the letters are written well! » he would say to those drawing inscriptions. « The mayor is coming, many priests will be in attendance, perhaps the Captain General, who is in the province! If they see that you draw well, perhaps they will praise you. » « And give us a slate as a present? » « Who knows! But Señor Ibarra has already ordered one from Manila. Tomorrow some things will arrive, which will be distributed among you as prizes… But leave those flowers in the water, tomorrow we will make the bouquets, you can bring more flowers, because it is necessary that the table be covered with them; flowers brighten the sight.  » « My father will bring bainô flowers [103] tomorrow and a basket of sampagas.  » « Mine has brought three cartloads of sand and has not received payment.  » « My uncle has promised to pay a teacher! » added Captain Basilio’s nephew . Indeed, the project had found support among almost everyone. The priest had asked to sponsor and bless himself the laying of the first stone, a ceremony that would take place on the last day of the festival, being one of its greatest solemnities. The same assistant had timidly approached Ibarra, offering him as many masses as the devotees would pay for until the building was finished. Even more; Sister Rufa, the wealthy and thrifty woman, said that if money ever ran out, she would travel around some towns to beg for alms, on the sole condition that they would pay for her travel and food, etc. Ibarra thanked her and replied: « We wouldn’t get much, since I’m not rich, nor is this building a church. Besides, I haven’t promised to raise it at the expense of others. » The young men, the students who came from Manila to celebrate the festival, admired him and took him as their prototype; but, as almost always happens, when we want to imitate notable men, we only imitate their pettiness, if not their defects, because we are incapable of anything else , and many of these admirers focused on the way the young man tied his tie, others on the shape of his shirt collar, and quite a few on the number of buttons on his jacket and waistcoat. Old Tasio’s dire premonitions seemed to have dissipated forever. Thus Ibarra told him one day, but the pessimistic old man replied: « Remember what Baltasar says: Kung ang isalúbong sa iyong pagdating Ay masayang mukhâ ‘t may pakitang giliu, Lalong pag ingata ‘t kaauay na li him… » [104] Baltasar was as good a poet as he was a thinker. These and other things happened the day before, before sunset. Chapter 28. At dusk. At Captain Tiago’s house, very grand preparations had also been made . We know the owner; his fondness for ostentation and his pride as a Manila native must have humbled the provincials with splendor. There was another reason that compelled him to try to outshine the others: he had his daughter María Clara, and his future son-in-law was there, who spoke only of him. Indeed, one of the most serious newspapers in Manila had dedicated an article to him on its front page, entitled « Imitate Him! » (Imitate Him!), heaping praise on him and giving him some advice. It had called him the enlightened young and rich capitalist; two lines below, the distinguished philanthropist; in the next paragraph, the student of Minerva who had gone to the motherland to salute the genuine soil of the arts and sciences; and a little further down, the Filipino Spaniard, etc., etc. Captain Tiago burned with generous emulation and thought that perhaps it was also his duty to build a convent at his own expense. Days before, a multitude of boxes of European food and drink, colossal mirrors, paintings, and the young woman’s piano had arrived at the house inhabited by María Clara and her aunt Isabel. Captain Tiago arrived the same day before: when his daughter kissed his hand, he gave her a beautiful gold reliquary with diamonds and emeralds, containing a sliver of the boat of Saint Peter, where Our Lady had sat while fishing. The interview with the future son-in-law could not have been more cordial; naturally, they discussed the school. Captain Tiago wanted it to be called the School of Saint Francis. « Believe me, » he would say, « Saint Francis is a good patron. If you call it a school of primary instruction, don’t do anything. Who is primary instruction?  » Some of María Clara’s friends arrived and invited her out for a walk. « But come back soon, » said Captain Tiago to his daughter, who was asking his permission. « You know that Padre Dámaso, who has just arrived, is dining with us tonight.  » And turning to Ibarra, who had become thoughtful, he added: « Dine with us as well; you will be alone in his house.  » « With great pleasure, but I must be at home in case visitors come, » stammered the young man, avoiding María Clara’s gaze. « Bring your friends, » replied Captain Tiago coolly.  » There is always plenty of food in my house. I would also like you and Padre Dámaso to come to an understanding.  » « There will be time for that! » replied Ibarra, smiling with a forced smile , and prepared to escort the young women. They went down the stairs. María Clara walked between Victoria and Iday; Aunt Isabel followed behind. The people respectfully moved aside to make way for them. Maria Clara was surprisingly beautiful: her pallor had disappeared, and if her eyes were still thoughtful, her mouth, on the contrary, seemed to know only the smile. With the kindness of a happy maiden, she greeted the old acquaintances of her childhood, now admirers of her happy youth. In less than two weeks she had regained that Frank confidence, that childish chatter that seemed to have grown dormant within the narrow walls of the convent: one might say that a butterfly, upon leaving its cocoon, recognized every flower; it only took a moment to fly and bask in the golden rays of the sun to lose the rigidity of its chrysalis. The young woman’s new life was reflected in her entire being : she found everything good and beautiful; she expressed her love with that virginal grace that, seeing nothing but pure thoughts, knows no reason for false blushes. Nevertheless, she covered her face with her fan when someone joked with her, but then her eyes smiled, and a slight shudder ran through her. The houses began to light up, and in the streets where the music flowed, the cane and wooden chandeliers were lit, imitating those in the church. From the street, through the open windows, one could see the people bustling about in the houses, in an atmosphere of light and the scent of flowers, to the strains of the piano, harp, or orchestra. Chinese, Spanish, and Filipino people crossed the streets, sometimes dressed in European or local attire. Servants carrying meat and chickens, students dressed in white, men and women, walked in confusion, jostling and pushing each other, exposing themselves to being run over by cars and carriages, which, despite the taboo [105] of the drivers, found it difficult to make way. In front of Captain Basilio’s house, some young people greeted our acquaintances and invited them to visit. The cheerful voice of Sinang running down the stairs put an end to all excuses. « Come up for a moment so I can go out with you, » he said. « I’m bored being among so many strangers, who only talk about roosters and cards.  » They went up. The room was full of people. Some came forward to greet Ibarra, whose name was known to everyone; they gazed in ecstasy at the beauty of María Clara, and some old women murmured while chewing buyo: « She looks like the Virgin! » There they had to drink hot chocolate. Captain Basilio had become Ibarra’s close friend and defender since the picnic. He learned from the telegram, given to his daughter Sinang, that he was aware that the lawsuit had been decided in his favor, and so, not wanting to be outdone in generosity, he tried to cancel the chess game . But since Ibarra didn’t agree to it, Captain Basilio proposed that the money with which he was to pay the costs be used to pay a teacher at the future school. As a result, the orator used his oratory to convince the other opponents to desist from their strange pretensions, saying: « Believe me: in lawsuits, the one who wins ends up without a shirt! » But he couldn’t convince anyone, despite quoting the Romans. After drinking hot chocolate, our young men had to listen to the piano, played by the town organist. « When I hear you in church, » Sinang would say, pointing to him, « I feel like dancing; now that you’re playing the piano, it makes me think of praying. That’s why I’m leaving with you.  » « Do you want to come with us tonight? » Captain Basilio would ask Ibarra in his ear as he said goodbye. « Father Dámaso is going to put up a small bench. » Ibarra smiled and answered with a nod that meant both yes and no. « Who is that? » Maria Clara asked Victoria, pointing with a quick glance at a young man following them. “That one… that one is a cousin of mine,” she replied, somewhat flustered. “And the other one? ” “That one is not my cousin,” Sinang replied briskly; “he’s a son of my aunt’s. ” They passed in front of the parish house, which, by the way, was not one of the least lively. Sinang couldn’t contain an exclamation of astonishment when she saw the lamps burning, of a very old-fashioned kind, which Father Salví never allowed to be lit so as not to waste oil. Shouts and loud laughter could be heard, and the friars could be seen walking slowly, moving their heads in time with the thick cigar that adorned their lips. The lay people among them tried to imitate everything they did. The good religious. Judging by the European attire they wore, they must have been employees or authorities in the province. María Clara distinguished the rounded contours of Father Dámaso next to the correct silhouette of Father Sibyla. The mysterious and taciturn Father Salví stood motionless in his place. « He’s sad! » Sinang observed; « think about how much so many visits are going to cost him. But you’ll see how it’s not him who pays, but the sacristans. His visitors always eat elsewhere.  » « Sinang! » Victoria chided him. « I can’t stand him since he broke the Wheel of Fortune; I don’t confess to him anymore. » Among all the houses, one could be distinguished that was neither lit nor had its windows open: it was the second lieutenant’s. María Clara was surprised by this. « The witch! The Muse of the Civil Guard, as the old man says! » exclaimed the terrible Sinang. « What does she have to do with our joys? She must be raving! » Let cholera come and you’ll see how it gives a feast. « But, Sinang! » her cousin chides again. « I’ve never been able to tolerate her, and even less so since she disturbed our party with her civil guards. If I were archbishop, I’d marry her off to Father Salvi… what children! Just imagine arresting that poor pilot, who threw himself into the water to please… » She couldn’t finish her sentence: in the corner of the square where a blind man was singing the ballad of the fishes to the sound of a guitar, a strange spectacle presented itself. It was a man covered with a wide salakot of palm leaves, and miserably dressed. His attire consisted of a tattered frock coat and baggy trousers, like those of Chinese personae, personae in various places. His feet were shod with miserable sandals. His face remained completely in shadow thanks to his salakot, but from that darkness, two gleams would occasionally emerge, only to be extinguished instantly. He was tall, and from his movements, one might have thought he was young. He would place a basket on the ground and then walk away, uttering strange, incomprehensible sounds. He remained standing, completely isolated, as if he and the crowd were avoiding each other. Then, some women would approach his basket and place fruit, fish, rice, etc. in it. When no one else was around, other sadder but less mournful sounds would emerge from the shadows, perhaps of thanksgiving. He would pick up his basket and walk away, only to repeat the same thing elsewhere. Maria Clara sensed a misfortune there and asked, full of interest, about this strange creature. « It’s the leper, » Iday replied. « He contracted the disease four years ago : some say from caring for his mother, others from being in the damp prison. » He lives out there in the country, near the Chinese cemetery; he doesn’t communicate with anyone; everyone flees from him for fear of catching the virus. If you could see his little house! It’s Giring-giring’s little house [106]: the wind, the rain, and the sun go in and out like a needle through a cloth. He has been forbidden to touch anything that belonged to other people. One day a little boy fell into the canal; the canal wasn’t deep, but he, who was passing by, helped him out. The father found out and complained to the little governor, who ordered him to be whipped six times in the middle of the street, then burned the vine. It was atrocious! The leper ran away, the whipper chased him, and the little governor shouted: « Learn! It’s better for one of you to drown than to get sick like you.  » « That’s true! » murmured María Clara. And without realizing what she was doing, she quickly approached the unfortunate man’s basket and placed in it the locket her father had just given her . « What have you done? » her friends asked her. « I didn’t have anything else! » she replied, hiding the tears in her eyes with a laugh. « And what is he going to do with your locket? » Victoria asked her. « One day they gave him money, but he used a stick to drag it away. What did he want it for if no one would accept anything from him? If only the locket could be eaten! » María Clara looked enviously at the women selling groceries and shrugged her shoulders. But the lazarin approached the basket, took the jewel, which glittered in his hands, knelt down, kissed it, and then, uncovering himself, buried his forehead in the dust the young woman had trodden on. Maria Clara hid her face behind her fan and put her handkerchief to her eyes. Meanwhile, a woman had approached the unfortunate man and seemed to be praying. Her long hair was loose and disheveled, and in the light of the lanterns, the extremely haggard features of the madwoman Sisa could be seen. Upon feeling her touch, the lazarin gave a cry and jumped up . But the madwoman clutched his arm, to the great horror of the people, and said: « Let us pray, let us pray! Today is the Day of the Dead! Those lights are the lives of men; let us pray for my children!  » « Separate her, separate them! » « The crazy woman is going to catch the virus! » the crowd shouted, but no one dared to come near. « Do you see that light in the tower? That’s my son Basilio coming down a rope! Do you see that one over there in the convent? That’s my son Crispín, but I’m not going to see them because the priest is sick and has too many ounces, and ounces are lost. Let us pray, let us pray for the priest’s soul! I brought him bitter gourds and brambles; my garden was full of flowers, and he had two sons. I had a garden, I tended flowers, and I had two sons!  » And releasing the lazarino, he walked away singing: « I had a garden and flowers, I had children, a garden and flowers!  » « What could you have done for that poor woman? » María Clara asked Ibarra. « Nothing; « She’d disappeared from the village these days and couldn’t be found! » the young man replied, half-confused. « I’ve also been very busy, but don’t worry; the priest is very interested in her!  » « Didn’t the ensign say he would have the children searched for?  » « Yes, but he was a little… drunk then! » He had barely finished saying this when they saw the crazy woman, being dragged rather than led by a soldier: Sisa was putting up a fight. « Why are you arresting her? What has she done? » Ibarra asked. « What? Haven’t you seen how loud she’s been? » replied the custodian of public tranquility. The lazarino hurriedly picked up his basket and walked away. María Clara wanted to leave, for she had lost her cheerfulness and good humor. « There are people who aren’t happy too! » she murmured. When she reached the door of her house, she felt her sadness increase when she saw that her fiancé refused to come up and was saying goodbye. « It’s necessary! » said the young man. María Clara went upstairs, thinking how boring feast days are when visitors from abroad come. Chapter 29. CORRESPONDENCES. Everyone talks about the festival according to how it goes for them. Nothing important having happened to our characters, neither the night before nor the following day, we would gladly skip to the last one, if we didn’t consider that perhaps some foreign reader might wish to know how the Filipinos celebrate their festivals. For this purpose, we will copy several letters verbatim, one of them being that of the correspondent of a serious and distinguished newspaper from Manila, venerable for its tone and high severity. Our readers will rectify some slight and natural inaccuracies. The worthy correspondent of the noble newspaper wrote thus: Mr. Editor… My distinguished friend: I have never witnessed, nor do I expect to see in the provinces, a religious festival as solemn, splendid, and moving as the one celebrated in this town by the MMRR and virtuous Franciscan Fathers. The attendance was enormous; here I had the good fortune to greet almost all the Spaniards residing in this province, three Augustinian Priests from the Province of Batangas, two Dominican Priests, one of them, Father Fr. Hernando de la Sibyla, who with his presence has come to honor this town, a fact that its worthy inhabitants should never forget. I also saw a large number of leaders from Cavite, Pampanga, many wealthy people from Manila, and many musical bands, among them the most refined of Pagsanghan, property of the notary, Don Miguel Guevara, and a multitude of Chinese and indigenous people, who with the curiosity that characterizes the former and religiosity of the latter, anxiously awaited the day in which the solemn festival was to be celebrated, to attend the comic-mimic-lyrical-choreographic-dramatic spectacle, for which purpose a large and spacious stage had been erected in the middle of the plaza. At nine o’clock in the evening on the tenth, the eve of the festival, after the sumptuous dinner with which the Senior Brother treated us, the strains of two bands of music caught the attention of all the Spaniards and friars who were in the convent, accompanied by a packed crowd and the noise of rockets and bombs, and preceded by the main people of the town, came to the convent to take us out and lead us to the place prepared and designated for us to witness the spectacle. We had to yield to such a gallant offer, even though I would have preferred to rest in the arms of Morpheus and give pleasant repose to my aching limbs, thanks to the jolts of the vehicle provided by the governor of the town of B. We got out, then, and went to look for our companions who were dining at the house owned here by the pious and opulent Don Santiago de los Santos. The town priest, Mr. Father Bernardo Salví, and Mr. Father Dámaso Verdolagas, who is now, by special favor of the Almighty, recovered from the illness that an impious hand had brought upon him, in the company of Mr. Father Hernando de la Sibyla and the virtuous priest of Tenauan, with other Spaniards, were the guests at the house of the Filipino Croesus. There we had the good fortune to admire not only the luxury and good taste of the owners of the house, which is uncommon among the natives, but also the precious, beautiful, and wealthy heiress, who proved herself a consummate disciple of Saint Cecilia, playing her elegant piano with a mastery that reminded me of Gálvez and the finest German and Italian compositions. It’s a shame that such a perfect young lady is so excessively modest and hides her merits from society, which has only admiration for her. I must not forget that at the host’s house they served us champagne and fine liquors with the profusion and splendor that characterize the renowned capitalist. We attended the spectacle. You already know our artists Ratia, Carvajal, and Fernández; their graces were understood only by us, since the uneducated class didn’t get a jot of it. Chananay and Balbino were fine, although somewhat hoarse; the latter released a chick, but their overall goodwill and integrity were admirable. The indigenous people, especially the little governor, greatly enjoyed the Tagalog comedy. The latter rubbed his hands together and told us what a shame they hadn’t made the princess fight the giant who had stolen her, which, in his opinion, would have been even more wonderful, especially if the giant had been invulnerable except in his navel, like a certain Ferragús mentioned in the story of the Twelve Peers. The MRP Friar Dámaso, with his characteristic kindness of heart, shared the little governor’s opinion and added that in that case, the princess would arrange to uncover the giant’s navel and deliver the coup de grace. Needless to say, during the spectacle , the kindness of the Filipino Rothschildt left nothing lacking : sherbets, carbonated lemonades, soft drinks, sweets, wines, etc., etc. were freely available to those of us who were there. The absence of the well-known and illustrious young Don Juan Crisóstomo Ibarra was very noticeable, and rightly so. As you know, he is to preside tomorrow over the blessing of the cornerstone of the great monument that you are so philanthropically having erected. This worthy descendant of the Pelayos and Elcanos (because, as I have learned, one of his paternal grandfathers is from our heroic and noble northern provinces, perhaps one of the first companions of Magellan or Legaspi) has not missed it either. see for the rest of the day, due to a minor malaise. His name is spread from mouth to mouth and is only pronounced with praise that cannot but redound to the glory of Spain and of legitimate Spaniards like ourselves, who never deny our blood, however mixed it may be. Today, the 11th, in the morning, we witnessed a highly moving spectacle . This day, as is public and well-known, is the feast of Our Lady of Peace, and it is celebrated by the Brothers of the Holy Rosary. Tomorrow will be the feast of the Patron Saint Diego, and the Brothers of the VOT are mainly taking part in it. Between these two corporations there is a pious emulation to serve God, and this piety goes so far as to provoke holy displeasure between them, as happened recently due to the dispute over the great preacher of renowned fame, the oft- named MRP Fr. Dámaso, who will occupy the chair of the Holy Spirit tomorrow with a sermon that will be, according to general belief, a religious and literary event. Well, as we were saying, we witnessed a highly edifying and moving spectacle . Six young religious men, three who were to say Mass and the other three as acolytes, emerged from the sacristy and, prostrate before the altar, the celebrant, Father Fr. Hernando de la Sibyla, intoned the Surge Dómine, with which the procession around the church was to begin, with that magnificent voice and religious anointing that everyone recognizes and makes him so worthy of general admiration. After the Surge Dómine was finished, the gobernadorcillo, dressed in tails, with the banner, followed by four acolytes with censers, began the procession. Following them came the silver candlesticks, the municipality, the precious images dressed in satin and gold, representing Saint Dominic, Saint Diego, and the Virgin of Peace, wearing a magnificent blue mantle with gilded silver plates, a gift from the virtuous former governor, well worthy of imitation and never sufficiently celebrated, Don Santiago de los Santos. All these images rode on silver chariots. Following the Mother of God came the Spaniards and other religious figures: the celebrant was protected by a canopy carried by the heads of the barangay, and the worthy corps of the Civil Guard closed the procession. I believe it’s needless to mention that a multitude of indigenous people formed the two rows of the procession, carrying lighted candles with great piety. Music played religious marches; repeated salvos made bombs and wheels of fire. It is astonishing to see the modesty and fervor these acts inspire in the hearts of believers, the pure and great faith they profess in the Virgin of Peace, and the solemnity and fervent devotion with which those of us who had the good fortune to be born under the sacred and immaculate flag of Spain celebrate such solemnities. Once the procession was over, the Mass began, performed by the orchestra and theater artists. After the Gospel, Fray Manuel Martín, an Augustinian from the province of Batangas, ascended the pulpit . He had the entire audience, especially the Spaniards , rapt and attentive to his words during the exordium in Spanish, which he delivered with courage and phrases so easily translated and appropriate that they filled our hearts with fervor and enthusiasm. This word, then, is what should be given to what is felt or we feel when it comes to the Virgin and our beloved Spain, and especially when the ideas of a prince of the Church, Mr. Monescillo [107], which are surely those of all Spaniards, can be inserted into the text, since the subject matter lends itself to it . After the mass, we all went up to the convent together with the leaders of the town and other important people, where they were very well entertained with the finesse, attention and prodigality that characterize the MRP Fray Salví, offering them cigars and a strong snack that the Senior Brother had prepared below the convent, for anyone who needed to quiet the needs of his stomach. During the day, nothing was lacking to make the celebration cheerful and to maintain the characteristic vivacity of the Spanish, who on such occasions cannot contain themselves, demonstrating, whether in songs or dances, or in other simple and joyful distractions, that they have noble and strong hearts, that sorrow does not overwhelm them, and that it is enough for three Spaniards to gather in a given place for sadness and unease to disappear. Thus, worship of Terpsichore was rendered in many homes, but especially in that of the illustrious Filipino millionaire, where we were all invited to dine. Needless to say, the banquet, lavish and brilliantly served, was the second edition of the wedding at Cana or Camacho, revised and enlarged. While we enjoyed the pleasures of the bucolic directed by a cook from La Campana, the orchestra played harmonious melodies. The beautiful young lady of the house wore a mestiza dress and a cascade of diamonds, and was, as always, the belle of the ball. We all deeply regret that a slight sprain in her pretty foot has deprived her of the pleasures of the dance, for if we are to judge by what her perfection in all things demonstrates, Miss de los Santos must dance like a sylph. The mayor of the province arrived this afternoon to solemnize tomorrow’s ceremony with his presence. He lamented the discomfort of the distinguished proprietor, Mr. Ibarra, who, thank God, according to what we have been told, is already better. There was a solemn procession last night, but I will tell you about this in my letter tomorrow, because, in addition to the bomb blasts that have stunned me and made me somewhat deaf, I am very tired and am falling asleep. Meanwhile, then, while I regain my strength in the arms of Morpheus, or rather on the convent cot, I wish you, my distinguished friend, good night and until tomorrow, which will be the big day. Your affmo. friend qbsm San Diego, November 11. The correspondent. This is what the good correspondent wrote. Let’s see what Captain Martín wrote to his friend Luis Chiquito: Dear Choy: Come running, if you can, the fiesta is very joyful; imagine that Captain Joaquín is almost ousted: Captain Tiago has doubled him three times, and all three times at the gates, so that Cabezang Manuel, the owner of the house, becomes increasingly smaller with joy. Father Dámaso broke a lamp with a blow of his punch because up to now he hasn’t won a card; the consul has lost at his cockfights and in banking everything he won from us at the Biñang and Pilar festivals in Santa Cruz. We were hoping that Captain Tiago would bring us his future son-in-law, the rich heir of Don Rafael, but it seems he wants to imitate his father, because he hasn’t even shown up. Too bad! It seems he’ll never be of any use. The Chinese man Carlos is making a huge fortune with liam-pó; I suspect he’s carrying something hidden inside, perhaps a magnet. He continually complains of headaches, which he bandages, and when the liam-pó bucket slowly stops, he leans down almost to touch it, as if he wanted to get a good look at it. I’m suspicious, because I know other similar stories. Goodbye, Choy; my roosters are doing well, and my wife is happy and having fun. Your friend Martín Aristorenas. Ibarra had also received a small, perfumed note that Andeng, María Clara’s foster sister, had given him on the evening of the first day of the festival. The note read: Crisóstomo: You haven’t been seen for more than a day; I heard you’re a little sick, I’ve prayed for you and lit two candles, even though Papa says you’re not seriously ill. Last night and today, they’ve bored me by making me play the piano and inviting me to dance. I didn’t know there were so many annoying people on earth! If it weren’t for Father Damaso, who tries to distract me by telling me and telling me many things, I would have locked myself in my bedroom to sleep. Write to me what’s wrong, and I’ll tell Papa to visit you. For now, I’m sending Andeng to make you tea; she knows how to make it. well, and perhaps better than your servants. María Clara. P.S. If you don’t come tomorrow, I won’t go to the ceremony. Fine. Chapter 30. MORNING The brass bands played reveille at the first light of dawn, awakening the weary townspeople with a joyful air. Life and animation were reborn, the bells rang again, and the explosions began. It was the last day of the festival; it was truly the festival itself. They expected to see much more than the day before. The brothers of the VOT were more numerous than those of the Holy Rosary, and the brothers smiled piously, certain of humiliating their rivals. They had bought a greater number of candles: the Chinese candle makers made a fortune, and in gratitude they planned to be baptized, although some assured them that it was not because of faith in Catholicism, but because of the desire to take a wife. But to this the pious women replied: « Even if that were the case, the fact that so many Chinese people were marrying at once would still be a miracle, and their wives would be converted. » The people put on their finest clothes; all their jewelry came out of their boxes. The gamblers and the players themselves wore embroidered shirts with heavy, brilliant-cut buttons, heavy gold chains, and white straw hats. Only the old philosopher remained as always: his dark-striped sinamay shirt [108] buttoned to the neck, loose shoes, and a wide, ash-colored felt hat. « You are sadder today than ever! » said the lieutenant- major. « Don’t you want us to be happy now and then, since we have so much to grieve about?  » « Being happy doesn’t mean doing crazy things! » replied the old man. « It’s the same senseless annual orgy! And why all this? » To waste money when there is so much misery and need! I understand now, it’s the orgy, the bacchanal to drown out everyone’s lamentations! « You know I share your opinion, » replied Don Filipo, half serious, half smiling. « I defended her, but what could I do against the little governor and the priest?  » « Resign! » replied the philosopher and walked away. Don Filipo remained perplexed, following the old man with his eyes. « Resign! » he murmured, addressing the church, « resign! Yes! If this position were a dignity and not a burden, yes, I would resign! » The church courtyard was full of people: men and women, children and old people, dressed in the finest clothes, mingling with one another, entering and leaving through the narrow doors. It smelled of gunpowder, flowers, incense, perfume; Bombs, rockets, and squints made the women run and scream, and the children laugh. A brass band played in front of the convent; others, leading to the town hall, paraded through the streets, where a multitude of flags fluttered and waved. Motley lights and colors distracted the eye, harmonies and thunder the ear. The bells rang incessantly; carriages and buggies passed by, their horses sometimes shooing, rearing up, or raising their hands, which, although not included in the festival program, constituted a free and most interesting spectacle. The Senior Brother that day had sent servants to look for guests in the street, like the one who gave the feast mentioned in the Gospel. People were invited, almost by force, to drink hot chocolate, coffee, tea, sweets, etc. Not infrequently, the invitation took on the proportions of a quarrel. The high mass was about to be celebrated, the so-called dalmatic mass, like the one yesterday mentioned by the worthy correspondent, only now the celebrant would be Father Salví, and among those who were going to hear it would be the mayor of the province with many other Spaniards and learned people to listen to Father Dámaso, who enjoyed great fame in the province. The ensign himself, having learned his lesson from Father Salví’s preaching , also came to give proof of his good will and to make up for the bad times the priest had given him, if possible . Such was the reputation of Father Dámaso that the correspondent He wrote the following in advance to the newspaper editor: As I had announced to you in my poorly drafted lines yesterday, so it has happened. We have had the special good fortune of hearing Father Father Dámaso Verdolagas, former priest of this town, transferred today to a higher priest as a reward for his good services. The distinguished sacred orator occupied the chair of the Holy Spirit, delivering a most eloquent and profound sermon, which edified and astonished all the faithful who anxiously awaited to see the salutary source of eternal life spring from his fertile lips. Sublimity and boldness in his concepts, novelty in his phrases, elegance in his style, naturalness in his gestures, grace in his speech, gallantry in his ideas—these are the hallmarks of the Spanish Bossuet, who has justly earned his high reputation, not only among enlightened Spaniards, but also among the rough native people and the astute children of the Celestial Empire. However, the unsuspecting correspondent was almost forced to delete everything he had written. Father Dámaso was complaining of a slight cold he had caught the night before: after singing some lively peteneras, he had drunk three glasses of sherbet and briefly attended the spectacle. As a result, he wanted to give up being God’s interpreter to men, but since no one else had learned the life and miracles of Saint Diego—the priest knew them, it is true, but he had to officiate—the other religious unanimously agreed that Father Dámaso’s voice was unsurpassable and that it would be a great shame to fail to deliver a sermon as eloquent as the one already written and learned. Therefore, the former housekeeper prepared him lemonades, anointed his chest and neck with ointments and oils, wrapped him in warm cloths, massaged him, etc., etc. Father Dámaso ate raw eggs beaten with wine, and all morning he neither spoke nor ate breakfast. He drank only a glass of milk, a cup of hot chocolate, and a dozen biscuits, heroically renouncing his fried chicken and his usual half-piece of Laguna cheese because, according to his housekeeper, chicken and cheese were salty and greasy and could cause coughing. « All to win heaven and convert! » the sisters of the VOT would say, moved, upon learning of these sacrifices. « The Virgin of Peace is punishing him! » the sisters of the Most Holy Rosary would murmur, unable to forgive him for siding with their enemies. At eight-thirty, the procession set out in the shade of the canvas awning. It was similar to yesterday’s, although there was one novelty: the Brotherhood of the VOT. Old men, old women, and some young women on the cusp of old age displayed long gingham habits; The poor wore them made of coarse cloth, the rich wore them made of silk, or Franciscan gingham, as the reverend Franciscan friars call it because it is more commonly used. All these sacred habits were legitimate; they came from the convent of Manila, where the people acquired them for alms, in exchange for money, a prix fixe, if a store’s phrase may be used. This fixed price can be increased, but not decreased. Just like these habits, others are also sold in the same convent and in the monastery of Santa Clara, which possess, besides the special grace of procuring many indulgences for the dead who are shrouded in them, the even more special grace of being more expensive the older, more worn, and more useless they are. We write this in case some pious reader needs such sacred relics, or some loutish rag-picker from Europe wants to make a fortune by taking a shipment of mended and filthy habits to the Philippines, since they can cost sixteen pesos or more depending on their more or less ragged appearance. Saint Diego de Alcalá rode in a chariot adorned with embossed silver plates . The Saint, quite thin, had an ivory bust with a severe and majestic expression, despite the abundant curly bangs like those of African Americans. His robe was of satin embroidered with gold. Our venerable father Saint Francis followed. Then the Virgin, like yesterday, only the priest under the canopy was this time Father Salví and not the elegant Father Sibyla with his distinguished manners. But if the former lacked a handsome appearance, he had plenty of anointing: his hands were clasped in a mystical attitude, his eyes lowered, and he walked half-hunched. Those carrying the canopy were the same cabezas de barangay, sweating with satisfaction at seeing themselves at the same time as semi-sacristans, tax collectors, redeemers of the vagrant and poor humanity, and consequently Christs who give their blood for the sins of others. The assistant, wearing a surplice, went from one cart to another carrying the censer, with whose smoke he occasionally regaled the priest’s nose, who then became even more serious and grave. Thus the procession moved slowly, leisurely to the sound of bombas, songs, and religious melodies, launched into the air by the marching bands , which followed behind each cart. Meanwhile, the Senior Brother distributed candles with such zeal that many of the companions retired to their homes, where they had enough light for four nights while playing cards. The curious onlookers knelt devoutly as the carriage of the Mother of God passed by, fervently praying creeds and Hail Marys. In front of a house from whose windows, adorned with ornate hangings, the mayor, Captain Tiago, María Clara, Ibarra, several Spaniards, and young ladies were peering, the carriage stopped. Father Salví managed to raise his eyes, but he didn’t make the slightest gesture to show greeting or acknowledge them: he merely straightened up, stood more erect, and his pluvial cape fell gracefully and elegantly over his shoulders. On the street below the window, stood a young woman with a pleasant face, dressed in great luxury, carrying a young child in her arms . She must have been a nurse or nanny, for the boy was white and blond, and she was dark, and her hair was blacker than jet. Seeing the priest, the tender infant stretched out his little hands, laughed with that laughter of childhood that neither provokes nor is provoked by pain, and cried out, stammering, amid a brief silence: « Pa… pa! Pa! Pa! » The young woman shuddered, hastily put her hand over her mouth , and ran away in great confusion. The child began to cry. The malicious people winked at each other, and the Spaniards who witnessed the brief scene smiled. Father Salví’s natural pallor turned poppy red. And yet the people were wrong: the priest did not even know the woman, who was a stranger. Chapter 31. IN THE CHURCH From end to end was the dressing room filled, which men assign as a house to the Creator of all that exists. They shoved, pressed, and crushed one another, the few who were leaving and the many who were entering gasping for air. Still, from a distance, people would reach out to dip their fingers in the holy water, but perhaps a surge would come and they would pull their hand away. Then a grunt would be heard, a trampled woman would swear, but the pushing continued. Some old men who managed to cool their fingers in the water, now the color of mud, where an entire town, along with the strangers, had once washed, would devoutly, if with difficulty, anoint their necks, crowns, foreheads, noses, beards, chests, and navels with it, convinced that in this way they were sanctifying all those parts and would suffer neither stiff necks, nor headaches, nor consumption, nor indigestion. Young people, either because they weren’t so sickly or didn’t believe in that sacred prophylaxis, would just moisten the tip of their finger—so that the devout people wouldn’t have anything to say—and pretended to point to their forehead without touching it, of course. It must be blessed and all that, some young woman would think, but it has a color! It was hard to breathe; it was hot and smelled like a biman animal; but the preacher was worth all that trouble: his sermon cost the town 250 pesos. Old Tasio had said: “250 pesos for a sermon! Just one man and one woman!” time! A third of what the comedians who will work for three nights cost!… You must necessarily be very rich! « What has that to do with comedy? » the nervous teacher of the Brothers of the VOT replied sulkily; « with comedy souls go to hell, and with the sermon to heaven. If he had asked for a thousand, we would pay him and we would still have to thank him for it…  » « After all, you are right! » replied the philosopher; « at least I am more amused by the sermon than by the comedy.  » « Well, neither do I understand comedy! » shouted the other furiously. « I believe it, you understand as much about one as about the other! » And the impious man left without paying attention to the insults and dire prophecies that the irritable teacher made about his future life. While they waited for the mayor, the people sweated and yawned; they waved fans, hats and handkerchiefs in the air; The children were screaming and crying , which gave the sacristans a hard time getting them out of the church. This made the conscientious and phlegmatic master of the Brotherhood of the Most Holy Rosary think: « Let the children come to me, » Our Lord Jesus Christ said,  » it’s true; but here it must be understood that children don’t cry.  » An old woman, one of those dressed in gingham, Sister Putê, was saying to her granddaughter, a little girl of six, who was kneeling beside her: « You damned girl! Pay attention, you’re going to hear a sermon like the one on Good Friday!  » And she pinched her, awakening the girl’s pity, who grimaced, stretched out her snout, and wrinkled her eyebrows. Some men, squatting, were dozing near the confessionals. An old man, nodding, made our old woman believe he was muttering prayers and quickly running his fingers over the beads of his rosary, that this was the most reverent way of obeying heaven’s designs, and little by little she began to imitate him. Ibarra was in a corner; María Clara was kneeling near the main altar in a place that your priest had the gallantry to have cleared for the sacristans. Captain Tiago, dressed in tails, sat on the benches reserved for the dignitaries, so the children who didn’t know him took him for just another little governor and didn’t dare approach him. Finally, the mayor arrived with his staff, coming from the vestry and occupying one of the magnificent armchairs placed on a carpet. The mayor was dressed in full regalia, wearing the sash of Charles III and four or five other decorations. The townspeople didn’t recognize him. « Abá! » exclaimed a peasant; « a civilian dressed as a comedian!  » « Simpleton! » replied the neighbor, nudging him: « it’s Prince Villardo, whom we saw last night at the theater! » The mayor rose in the eyes of the people, becoming an enchanted prince, a conqueror of giants. Mass began. Those who were seated rose; those who were sleeping were awakened by the ringing of bells and the sonorous voices of the singers. Father Salví, despite his seriousness, seemed very satisfied, since he was served as deacon and subdeacon by no less than two Augustinians. Each sang well when his turn came, with a more or less nasal voice and obscure pronunciation, except for the officiant, whose voice was somewhat tremulous, often going off-key, to the great surprise of those who knew him. He moved, however, with precision and elegance; He said the Dominus vobiscum with unction, tilting his head slightly and looking toward the vault. Seeing him receive the incense smoke, one would have said that Galen was right in admitting the passage of smoke from the nostrils to the skull through the ethmoid sieve, for he stood up, threw back his head, and then walked toward the center of the altar with such pomp and gravity that Captain Tiago found him more majestic than the Chinese comedian from the previous night, dressed as an emperor, painted with paint, with little banners on his back, a horse-bristle beard , and high-soled slippers. « Undoubtedly, » he thought, « a single priest of ours has more majesty than all the emperors.  » Finally, the long-awaited moment arrived to hear Father Damaso. The three priests sat in their chairs in an edifying attitude, as the honorable correspondent would say; the mayor and other people with staffs and canes imitated them; the music ceased. That transition from noise to silence awakened our old sister Putê, who was already snoring, thanks to the music. Like Sigismund, or like the cook in the Dornröschen story, the first thing she did upon waking was to smack her granddaughter, who had also fallen asleep, on the back of her neck. She shrieked, but was soon distracted by the sight of a woman beating her breast with conviction and enthusiasm. Everyone tried to arrange themselves comfortably; those without a bench squatted, the women on the floor or on their laps. Father Dámaso crossed the crowd, preceded by two sacristans and followed by another friar carrying a large notebook. He disappeared as he ascended the spiral staircase, but his round head soon reappeared, then the thick neck of his neck, immediately followed by his body. He looked around confidently, half coughing; he saw Ibarra; a particular blink indicated that he would not forget him in his prayers; then a look of satisfaction at Father Sibyla and another of disdain at Father Manuel Martín, yesterday’s preacher. Having finished this review, he turned surreptitiously to his companion, saying: « Attention, brother! » He opened his notebook. But the sermon deserves a separate chapter. A young man who was then learning shorthand and who idolizes great orators, stenographed it; thanks to this, we can bring here a piece of the sacred oratory of those regions. Chapter 32. THE SERMON. Brother Dámaso began slowly, saying in a low voice: And you gave them your good spirit to teach them, and you did not take your manna from their mouths, but gave them water for their thirst! Words spoken by the Lord through the mouth of Ezra, Book II, Chapter IX, Verse 20. Father Sibyla looked at the preacher in surprise; Father Manuel Martín paled and swallowed; this was better than his own. Whether Father Dámaso noticed or was still hoarse, the fact is that he coughed several times, placing both hands on the parapet of the Holy Tribune. The Holy Spirit was above his head, freshly painted: white, clean, with pink feet and beak. Most Excellent Sir (to the mayor), most virtuous priests, Christians, brothers in Jesus Christ! Here he paused solemnly, once again casting his gaze over the audience, whose attention and devotion filled him with satisfaction. The first part of the sermon was to be in Spanish and the other in Tagalog: loquebantur omnes linguas [109]. After the vocatives and the pause, he majestically extended his right hand toward the altar, fixing his gaze on the mayor; then he slowly crossed his arms without saying a single word, but passing from this calm to mobility, he threw back his head, pointed toward the main door, cutting the air with the edge of his hand, with such force that the sacristans interpreted the gesture as a command and closed the doors; The ensign became restless and hesitated whether to leave or stay, but the preacher was already beginning to speak in a loud, full, and resonant voice: the former housekeeper was definitely intelligent in medicine. Splendorous and dazzling is the altar, wide is the main door, the air is the vehicle of the holy divine word that will issue from my mouth, listen then with the ears of your soul and heart, so that the words of the Lord may not fall on stony ground and be eaten by the birds of Hell, but that you may grow and sprout like a holy seed in the field of our venerable and seraphic PS Francisco. You, great sinners, captives of the Moors of the soul, who infest the seas of eternal life in powerful vessels of the flesh and the world, you who are burdened with the shackles of lust and concupiscence and row in the galleys of the infernal Satan, Look there with reverent compunction at the one who rescues souls from the captivity of the devil, the intrepid Gideon, the valiant David, the victorious Roland of Christianity, the celestial civil guard, braver than all the civil guards together, past and present…–(The ensign wrinkles his brow),–yes, sir ensign, braver and more arrogant, who with no other rifle than a wooden cross, courageously defeats the eternal tulisán of darkness and all of Lucifer’s henchmen and would have eradicated them all forever, if spirits were not immortal. This marvel of divine creation, this impossible portent, is the blessed Diego de Alcalá, who, using a comparison (because comparisons are very helpful in understanding incomprehensible things, as the other said), I say then that this great saint is only the last soldier, a rancher in our most powerful company, commanded from heaven by our seraphic PS Francisco, to which I have the honor of belonging as a corporal or sergeant by the grace of God. The rude indigenous people, as the correspondent reports, did not glean anything from the paragraph other than the words civil guard, tulisán, S. Diego, and S. Francisco. They observed the ill face of the ensign, the bellicose gesture of the preacher, and deduced that he was scolding the former because he did not pursue the tulisanes. San Diego and St. Francis would see to it, and very well, as is proven by a painting in the convent of Manila, in which St. Francis, with only his cord, had held back the Chinese invasion in the early years of the discovery. The devotees were therefore quite overjoyed and thanked God for this help, not doubting that once the tulisanes had disappeared, St. Francis would also destroy the Civil Guards. They redoubled their attention, following Father Dámaso, who continued:  » Your Excellency: Great things are always great things, even compared to small ones, and small things are always small, even compared to great ones. This is what History says, but since History hits the nail on the head and a hundred in the horseshoe, as something made by men, and men make mistakes: to miss is hominum [110] as Cicero says, he who has a mouth makes mistakes, as they say in my country, it turns out that there are deeper truths that History does not tell us. These truths, Your Excellency . Lord, the divine Spirit has said in His supreme wisdom, a wisdom never understood by human intelligence since the times of Seneca and Aristotle, those religious sages of antiquity, until our sinful days, and these truths are that small things are not always small, but rather great, not compared to the small things, but compared to the greatest things of the earth and the sky and the air and the clouds and the waters and space and life and death… « Amen! » replied the VOT teacher and crossed himself. With this figure of speech, which he had learned from a great preacher in Manila, Father Dámaso wanted to surprise his audience, and indeed, His Holy Spirit, enraptured by so many truths, needed to be touched by His foot to remind Him of His mission. « It is clear to you! » said the Spirit from below. Clear before your eyes is the conclusive and overwhelming proof of this eternal philosophical truth! Clear is that sun of virtues, and I say sun and not moon, because there is no great merit in the moon shining during the night: in the land of the blind, the one-eyed man is king; at night a light can shine, a little star: the greatest merit is to be able to shine even in the middle of the day as the sun does: thus Brother Diego shines even among the greatest saints. There you have, clear before your eyes, clear before your impious incredulity, the masterpiece of the Almighty to confound the great ones of the earth, yes, my brothers, clear, clear to all, clear! A man rose pale and trembling and hid in a confessional. He was a liquor seller, dozing and dreamed that the police were asking him for the patent he did not have. It is assured that he did not leave his hiding place during the sermon. Humble and collected saint, your wooden cross—the one with the image was silver—your modest habit honors the great Francis, whose children and imitators we are! We spread your holy race throughout the world, in every corner, in the cities, in the towns, without distinguishing between white and black—(the mayor holds his breath)—suffering abstinences and martyrdoms, your holy race of faith and armed religion—(Ah! the mayor breathes)—that keeps the world in balance and prevents it from falling into the abyss of perdition. The listeners, even Captain Tiago himself, were yawning little by little.
María Clara was not listening to the sermon; she knew Ibarra was nearby and thought of him while fanning herself at the bull belonging to one of the evangelists, which had all the features of a small carabao. We should all know the Holy Scriptures by heart, the lives of the saints, and then I wouldn’t have to preach to you sinners; you should know things as important and necessary as the Lord’s Prayer, even though many of you have already forgotten it, living like Protestants or heretics, who do not respect the ministers of God, like the Chinese people, but you are going to be damned, worse for you, damned! « Oh, that pale Lamasus [111], that one! » murmured the Chinese person Carlos, looking angrily at the preacher, who continued improvising, unleashing a series of apostrophes and imprecations. « You will die in final impenitence, race of heretics! God is already punishing you from this earth with jails and prisons! » Families and women should flee from you; rulers should hang you all so that the seed of Satan does not spread in the Lord’s town!… If you have a bad member that leads you to sin, cut it off, throw it into the fire…! Fray Dámaso was nervous; he had forgotten his sermon and his rhetoric. « Do you hear? » a young student from Manila asked his companion; « shall you cut it off?  » « Oh! Let him do it first! » the other replied, pointing at the preacher. Ibarra became restless; he looked around for a corner, but the entire church was full. María Clara heard and saw nothing as she studied the painting of the blessed souls in purgatory, souls in the form of naked men and women, with mitres, hats, or veils, roasting in the fire and clinging to the cord of St. Francis, which did not break despite so much weight. The Holy Spirit friar, with that improvisation, lost the thread of the sermon and skipped three long paragraphs, pointing incorrectly at Father Dámaso, who was panting from his apostrophe. Who among you sinners listening to me would lick the wounds of a poor and ragged beggar? Who? Let him answer and raise his hand! No one! I already knew it: only a saint like Diego de Alcalá can do it; he licked all the rottenness, saying to an astonished brother: « This is how this sick man is cured! » Oh Christian charity! Oh unparalleled piety! Oh virtue of virtues! Oh inimitable example! Oh spotless talisman!… And he continued with a long list of exclamations, placing his arms in a cross, raising and lowering them as if he wanted to fly or scare the birds. Before dying, he spoke in Latin without knowing Latin. « Amazed, sinners! » You, despite the fact that you study it and are flogged for it, will not speak Latin; you will die without knowing it! Speaking Latin is a grace from God; that is why the Church speaks Latin. I speak Latin too! How could that be? Could God deny this consolation to his beloved Diego? Could he die, could he let him die without speaking Latin? Impossible! God would not be just, he would not be God! He spoke, then, Latin, as the authors of that time bear witness to. And he ended his introduction with the passage that cost him the most work and which he plagiarized from a great writer, Sinibaldo de Mas. I greet you, then, illustrious Diego, honor of our corporation. You are a paragon of virtues, modest with honor, humble with nobility, submissive with fortitude, sober with ambition, hostile with loyalty, compassionate with forgiveness, religious with scrupulous, devout believer, candidly credulous, chaste with love, silent with secrecy, patient with patience, brave with fear, continent with voluptuousness, daring with resolution, obedient with subjection, shy with honor, careful of your interests with detachment, skillful with ability, ceremonious with urbanity, astute with sagacity, merciful with piety, modest with shame, vengeful with courage, poor through industriousness with conformity, prodigal with economy, active with negligence, economical with liberality, innocent with penetration, reformer with consequence, indifferent with a desire to learn. God created you to feel the enchantments of platonic love…! Help me to sing your greatness and your name higher than the stars and clearer than the sun itself that revolves at your feet! Help me, you, ask God for sufficient inspiration by reciting the Hail Mary. They all knelt, raising a murmur like the buzzing of a thousand blowflies. The mayor bent one knee with difficulty, shaking his head in disgust; the second lieutenant was pale and contrite. « To hell with the priest! » murmured one of the two young men who had come from Manila. « Silence! » replied the other, « his wife can hear us. » Meanwhile, Father Dámaso, instead of praying the Hail Mary, scolded his Holy Spirit for having skipped three of his best paragraphs, drank two meringues and a glass of Malaga, certain of finding greater inspiration in them than in all the Holy Spirits, whether made of wood in the form of a dove or made of flesh in the form of a distracted friar. He was about to begin the Tagalog sermon. The devout old woman slapped her granddaughter on the back of her head, who woke up grumpily and asked, « Is it time to cry? » « Not yet, but don’t go to sleep, damn it! » replied the good grandmother. Of the second part of the sermon, that is, the Tagalog, we have only brief sketches. Father Dámaso improvised in this language, not because he was any better at it, but because, considering the provincial Filipinos ignorant of rhetoric, he wasn’t afraid of making blunders in front of them. With the Spaniards, it was a different story: he had heard about the rules of oratory, and among his listeners there might be someone who had attended the lecture halls, perhaps the mayor. Therefore , he wrote his sermons, corrected them, polished them, and then memorized them, rehearsing them for about two days beforehand. It is well known that none of those present understood the whole of the sermon: they were so dull-witted, and the preacher was very profound, as Sister Rufa said. So the audience waited in vain for an opportunity to weep, and the doomed granddaughter of the old pious woman fell asleep again. However, this part had more consequences than the first, at least for some listeners, as we shall see later. He began with a Christian Maná capatir [112], which was followed by an avalanche of untranslatable phrases; he spoke of the soul, of Hell, of the mahal na santo pintacasi [113], of the sinful indigenous people, and of the virtuous Franciscan Fathers. « Menche! » [114] said one of the irreverent Manilans to his companion; « that’s in Greek for me, I’m leaving. » And seeing the doors closed, he left by way of the sacristy, much to the scandal of the people and of the preacher, who turned pale and stopped in the middle of his sentence; Some expected a violent apostrophe, but Father Dámaso simply followed him with his eyes and continued his sermon. Curses were unleashed against the century, against the lack of respect, the nascent irreligiosity. This subject seemed to be his forte, since he seemed inspired and expressed himself with force and clarity. He spoke of sinners who do not confess, who die in prisons without sacraments, of cursed families, of proud and puffed-up mestizos, of wise-guy young men, philosophers or hairy-heads, of lawyers, students, etc. The custom that many have when they want to ridicule their enemies is well known: they bring out the ending in -illo in everything, because the skull seems to give nothing else, and They are very happy. Ibarra heard everything and understood the allusions. Maintaining an apparent tranquility, he looked with his eyes for God and the authorities, but there were only images of saints, and the mayor dozed. Meanwhile, the preacher’s enthusiasm increased by degrees. He spoke of the ancient times when every Filipino, upon meeting a priest, would uncover his head, bend one knee, and kiss his hand. « But now, » he added, « you only take off your salakot or your beaver hat, which you place half-tilted on your head so as not to disturb your hair! You content yourselves with saying: ‘Good morning, among!’ [115] and there are proud students with little Latin, who, because they have studied in Manila or Europe, believe themselves entitled to shake our hands instead of kissing it… Ah! The day of judgment is soon coming, the world is ending, many saints have prophesied it! » It will rain fire, stones, and ashes to punish our pride! And he exhorted the people not to imitate these personages, but to flee and hate them, because they were excommunicated. “Hear what the Holy Councils say!” he exclaimed. “When an indigenous person meets a priest in the street, he will bow his head and offer his neck so that the priest can lean on him; if the priest and the indigenous person are both on horseback, then the indigenous person will stop and reverently take off his salakot or hat; finally, if the indigenous person is on horseback and the priest is on foot, the indigenous person will dismount and will not remount until the priest says, “Sulung!” [116] or is already very far away. This is what the Holy Councils say, and whoever does not obey will be excommunicated.” « And when does one ride a carabao? » a scrupulous peasant asks his neighbor. « Then… go ahead! » replies the latter, who is a casuist. But despite the preacher’s shouts and gestures, many fell asleep or were distracted, for those sermons were the same as always and by everyone else. In vain, some devout women tried to sigh and whine about the sins of the impious; they had to give up their enterprise for lack of partners. Sister Putê herself thought quite the opposite. A man sitting next to her had fallen so asleep that he fell on her, ruining her habit. The good old woman took her clog and began to wake him up with blows, shouting: « Oh! Take away, person, animal, demon, carabao, dog, damn it! » A tumult broke out, as was to be expected. The preacher stopped, raised his eyebrows, surprised by so much commotion. Indignation choked the word in her throat, and all she managed was to bellow, banging her fists on the platform. This had its effect: the old woman dropped her clog, grumbling, and, crossing herself repeatedly, fell devoutly to her knees. « Aaah! Aaah! » the indignant priest finally managed to exclaim, crossing his arms and shaking his head. « That’s why I’ve been preaching to you here all morning, personae! Here, in the house of God, you quarrel and swear , you shameless people! Aaah! You no longer respect anything!… This is the work of the lust and incontinence of the century! I told you so, aaah! » And he continued preaching on this subject for half an hour. The mayor snored, María Clara nodded: the poor thing couldn’t resist sleep, no longer having any painting or image to analyze or distract herself with. Ibarra was no longer impressed by words or allusions; now he thought of a little house on the top of a hill and saw María Clara in a garden. How could men grovel in their miserable villages at the bottom of the valley ! Father Salví had rung the bell twice, but this was only adding fuel to the fire: Brother Dámaso was stubborn and prolonged the sermon. Brother Sibyla bit his lip and repeatedly adjusted his gold-mounted rock crystal glasses: Brother Manuel Martín was the only one who seemed to listen with pleasure, for he smiled. Finally, God said, « Enough! » The orator grew tired and stepped down from the pulpit. Everyone knelt to give thanks to God. The mayor rubbed his eyes, stretched out an arm as if to stretch, and let out a Ah! Deep and yawning. The mass continued. When, as Balbino and Chananay sang Incarnatus est, everyone knelt and the priests bowed their heads, a man whispered in Ibarra’s ear: « During the blessing ceremony, do not leave the priest’s side, do not descend into the pit, do not approach the stone, for your life depends on it! » Ibarra saw Elias, who, having said this, disappeared into the crowd. Chapter 33. THE GOAT The yellow man had kept his word: it was not a simple goose that he had built over the open pit to lower the enormous granite mass; it was not the tripod that Sir Juan had desired to suspend a pulley from its summit, it was something more; it was at the same time a machine, an ornament, but a grandiose and imposing ornament. The confusing and complicated scaffolding rises to a height of eight meters: four thick timbers sunk into the ground served as trusses, held together by colossal diagonal beams, joined together by thick nails driven only halfway in, perhaps because the structure was temporary and could easily be dismantled later. Enormous cables, dangling from all sides, gave the whole structure an air of solidity and grandeur, crowned above by colorful flags, floating pennants, and monstrous garlands of flowers and leaves, artfully interwoven. Up above, in the shadow cast by timbers, garlands, and flags, hangs a colossal three-wheeled pulley, held by ropes and iron hooks. Three cables, even larger than the others, straddle the shining edges of the pulley. These cables, suspended from the center, are cut out to form, along with the excavation of the other stone already placed in the pit, the small space destined to store the history of the day—newspapers, documents, coins, medals, etc.—and perhaps to transmit it to very distant generations. These cables descended from top to bottom, connected to another equally thick pulley attached to the foot of the device, and wound around the cylinder of a winch, held in place by thick timbers. This winch, which can be set in motion by means of two handlebars, increases a man’s strength a hundredfold thanks to a set of toothed wheels, although what is gained in strength is lost in speed. « Look, » said the yellow man, turning the handle. « Look, Ñor Juan, how, with my sole strength, I can raise and lower this immense mass… It is so well arranged that I can adjust the ascent or descent at will, inch by inch, so that a man from the bottom can comfortably adjust both stones while I handle it from here. » Ñor Juan could not help but admire the man who smiled so distinctively. The curious onlookers commented and praised the yellow man. « Who taught you the machinery? » asked Ñor Juan. « My father, my late father! » he answered with his characteristic smile. « And your father? » « Don Saturnino, Don Crisóstomo’s grandfather.  » « I didn’t know that Don Saturnino…  » « Oh! He knew many things! Not only did he beat well and expose his workers to the sun; he also knew how to awaken the sleeping and put those awake to sleep. » You’ll see in time what my father taught me, you’ll see! And the yellow man laughed, but in a strange way. On a table, covered with a Persian tapestry, were the lead cylinder and the objects that were to be kept in that kind of tomb: a thick-walled glass box would contain that mummy of an era and would keep for the future the memories of a past. The philosopher Tasio, who was thinking about it there, murmured: « Perhaps one day, when the work that is beginning to be born today, aged after so many vicissitudes, falls into ruins, either to the shocks of nature, or to the destructive hand of man, and ivy and moss will grow over the ruins; then, when time destroy the moss, the ivy, and the ruins, and scatter their ashes to the wind, erasing from the pages of history the memory of it and of those who destroyed it, long lost in the memory of men; perhaps, when the races have been buried or disappeared with the layers of the soil, only by chance will the pick of some miner, striking a spark from the granite, be able to unearth mysteries and enigmas from the heart of the rock. Perhaps the wise men of the nation that inhabits these regions will work, as Egyptologists today work, with the remains of a grand civilization, preoccupied with eternity and unsuspecting that such a long night was about to descend upon it. Perhaps some wise professor will say to his five- and seven-year-old students in a language spoken by all men: Gentlemen! Having carefully studied and examined the objects found in the subsoil of our land, deciphered some symbols, and translated some words, we can, without any fear, presume that these objects belonged to the barbaric age of man, to the dark era we usually call fabulous. Indeed, gentlemen, to give you an approximate idea of ​​the backwardness of our ancestors, it will suffice for me to say that those who lived here not only still recognized kings, but to resolve matters of their internal government, they still had to go to the other end of the world, which is as if we were to say a body that, in order to move, needed to consult its head, which existed in another part of the globe, perhaps in places now hidden by the waves. This incredible imperfection, however improbable it may seem to you, ceases to be so if we consider the circumstances of those beings, whom I hardly dare to call human. In those primitive times, these beings were still (or at least so they believed) in direct relation with their Creator, for they had ministers of the same, beings different from the others and always denominated with the mysterious characters: MRP fray, on whose interpretation our wise men do not agree. According to the mediocre language professor we have, for he only speaks a hundred of the defective languages ​​of the past, MRP would mean Very Rich Owner, for these ministers were a kind of demigods, extremely virtuous, eloquent orators, extremely learned, and despite their great power and prestige, they would never commit the slightest fault, which strengthens my belief by supposing them of a different nature from the others. And if this were not enough to support my opinion, I still have the argument, undeniable and more and more confirmed every day, that such mysterious beings brought God down to earth simply by uttering a few words, which God could only speak through their own mouths, and whom they ate, drank the blood of, and not infrequently gave to common men as well… These and other things the incredulous philosopher put in the mouths of all the corrupted men of the future. Perhaps old Tasio is mistaken, which is very easy, but let us return to our story. In the kiosks that we saw the schoolmaster and students occupying the day before yesterday, a sumptuous and abundant lunch was now being prepared. However , on the table designated for the school children, there wasn’t a single bottle of wine, but fruit was more abundant. In the bower were seats for the musicians and a table covered with sweets and preserves, flasks of water crowned with leaves and flowers for the thirsty public. The schoolmaster had had poles and barriers erected, and pans and pots hung for cheerful games. The crowd, wearing gaily colored costumes, crowded together to escape the bright sun, sometimes under the shade of the trees, sometimes under the arbor. The boys climbed onto the branches and rocks to better see the ceremony, thus compensating for their small stature; they looked with envy at the school children who, clean and well dressed, occupied a place designated for them. The parents were excited; they, poor peasants, would see their children eat. on a white tablecloth almost like the priest and the mayor. Just thinking about it would keep you from hunger, and such an event would be told from father to son. Soon the distant strains of music were heard; it was preceded by a motley crowd, composed of all ages and dressed in all colors. The yellow man grew restless and examined his entire setup with a glance. A curious peasant followed his gaze and observed his every movement: it was Elías, who had also come to witness the ceremony; judging by his salakot and his way of dressing, he was practically unknown. He had secured the best spot, almost right next to the lathe, at the edge of the excavation. With the music came the mayor, the council members, the friars (except for Father Dámaso), and the Spanish employees. Ibarra was conversing with the former, with whom he had become very friendly since he had paid him some fine compliments about his decorations and bands: the aristocratic connoisseurs were His Excellency Captain Tiago’s skinny one; The ensign and some other wealthy people were among the golden throng of young women with their silk parasols. Father Salví remained, as always, silent and thoughtful. « You can count on my support whenever it’s a good deed, » the mayor was saying to Ibarra; « I will provide whatever you need, and if not, I will have the others provide it. » As they drew closer, the young man felt his heart pounding. Instinctively, he glanced at the strange scaffolding erected there; he saw the yellow-faced man greet him respectfully and fix his gaze on him for a moment. With surprise, he discovered Elías, who with a significant blink indicated that he remembered what he had told him in the church. The priest put on his priestly vestments and began the ceremony: the one-eyed head sacristan held the book, and an altar boy held the hyssop and the vessel of holy water. The others, standing around him with their heads uncovered, maintained such profound silence that, despite reading in a low voice, it was clear that Father Salví’s voice trembled. Meanwhile, everything that needed to be put in had been placed in the glass box , such as manuscripts, newspapers, medals, coins, etc., and everything had been enclosed within the lead cylinder, hermetically sealed. « Mr. Ibarra, would you like to put the box back in its place? The priest is waiting for you! » the mayor murmured in the young man’s ear. « Gladly, » he murmured; « but I would be usurping that honorable duty from the clerk: the clerk must attest to the act! » The clerk took it gravely, descended the carpeted stairs that led to the bottom of the excavation, and with due solemnity placed it in the hollow of the stone. The priest then took the hyssop and sprinkled the stones with holy water. The time came for each man to place his spoonful of grout on the surface of the ashlar lying in the pit, so that the other man would fit in properly and get a grip. Ibarra presented the mayor with a trowel, on whose broad silver blade was engraved the date; but before doing so, he gave a speech in Spanish. « Residents of San Diego! » he said with a grave accent, « we have the honor of presiding over a ceremony of an importance that you will understand without us telling you. A school is being founded; the school is the foundation of society, the school is the book where the future of a people is written! Show us the school of a people, and we will tell you what kind of people it is. Residents of San Diego! Bless God, who has given you virtuous priests, and the government of the mother country, which tirelessly spreads civilization throughout these fertile islands, sheltered by her under her glorious mantle! » Bless God, who has taken pity on you by bringing you these humble priests who enlighten you and teach you the divine word! Bless the Government that has made, is making, and will make so many sacrifices for you and your children! And now that the first stone of this transcendental building is being blessed, we, the mayor of this province, in the name of His Majesty the King, may God save you, King of Spain, in the name of the illustrious Spanish government, and under the protection of your immaculate and ever- victorious flag, we consecrate this act and begin the construction of this school! Residents of San Diego, long live the king! Long live Spain! Long live the religious! Long live the Catholic religion! « Long live! Long live! » many voices answered, « Long live the Lord Mayor! » He then majestically descended to the strains of the music he began to play; he placed a few spoonfuls of grout on the stone and with the same majesty as at the beginning, he rose again. The employees applauded. Ibarra offered another silver spoon to the priest who, after fixing his eyes on it for a moment, slowly descended. Halfway down the stairs, he raised his gaze to look at the stone hanging from the powerful cables, but it was only for a second, and he continued descending. He did the same as the mayor, but this time there was more applause. The clerks had been joined by some friars and Captain Tiago. Father Salví seemed to be looking for someone to give the spoon to; he looked doubtfully at María Clara, but changing his mind, offered it to the clerk. The latter, out of gallantry, approached María Clara, who smiled and refused. The friars, the clerks, and the ensign all got off one after another. Captain Tiago was not forgotten. Ibarra was missing, and was about to order the yellow man to lower the stone when the priest remembered the young man and said to him in a joking tone, affecting familiarity: « Aren’t you putting your spoon in, Señor Ibarra?  » « You’d be a Juan Palomo; I’ll cook it and eat it myself! » he replied in the same tone. « Come on! » said the mayor, gently pushing him. If not, I give orders that the stone not be lowered, and we will remain here until Judgment Day. » Faced with such a terrible threat, Ibarra had to obey. He exchanged the small silver trowel for a large iron one, which made some people smile, and calmly advanced. Elías looked at him with an indefinable expression; upon seeing him, one would have thought his whole life was concentrated in his eyes. The yellow man gazed into the abyss at his feet. Ibarra, after casting a quick glance at the stone hanging over his head and another at Elías and the yellow man, said to Ñor Juan in a somewhat trembling voice: « Give me the bucket and get me another trowel up above! » The young man was left alone. Elías was no longer looking at him: his eyes were fixed on the hand of the yellow man, who, bent over the grave, anxiously followed the young man’s movements. The sound of the scoop stirring the mass of sand and lime could be heard through the faint murmur of the employees, who were congratulating the mayor on his speech. Suddenly, a loud crash erupted: the pulley, attached to the base of the derrick, jumped, and after it, the winch, which struck the apparatus like a battering ram. The timbers swayed, the ties flew, and everything collapsed in a second with a terrifying crash. A cloud of dust rose: a scream of horror, composed of a thousand voices, filled the air. Almost everyone fled and ran; very few rushed into the pit. Only María Clara and Father Salví remained in their place, unable to move, pale and speechless. When the dust had somewhat dissipated, they saw Ibarra standing among beams, reeds, and cables, between the winch and the mass of stone, which, descending so rapidly, had shaken and crushed everything . The young man still held the spoon in his hand and stared with terrified eyes at the corpse of a man lying at his feet, half buried among the beams. “Aren’t you dead?” “Are you still alive?” “For God’s sake, speak up !” said some of the employees, filled with terror and interest. “Miracle! Miracle!” cried some of them. “Come and take out the corpse of this wretch!” said Ibarra, as if awakening from a dream. Hearing his voice, María Clara felt her strength leave her and she fell half-fainting into the arms of her friends. There was great confusion: everyone was talking, gesticulating, running from one place to another. From side to side, they went down into the grave, they came up, all stunned and dismayed. « Who is the dead man? Is he still alive? » asked the ensign. They recognized the corpse as the yellow-faced man standing beside the lathe. « Let the master builder be prosecuted! » was the first thing the mayor could say. They examined the corpse, placed their hands on its chest, but the heart was no longer beating. The blow had hit him in the head, and blood was gushing from his nose, mouth, and ears. They saw strange marks on his neck: four deep depressions on one side and one on the other, although somewhat larger: to see them, one would have thought a steel hand had grasped him like a pair of pincers. The priests warmly congratulated the young man and shook his hand. The humble-looking Franciscan, who served as the Holy Spirit to Father Dámaso, said with tearful eyes: « God is just, God is good!  » « When I think that moments before he was there! » one of the employees said to Ibarra, « I say! If I were the last one, Jesus!  » « My hair stands on end! » another bald man said. « Well, it’s a good thing that happened to you and not me! » an old man murmured, still trembling. « Don Pascual! » some Spaniards exclaimed. « Gentlemen, I said that because the gentleman didn’t die: if I hadn’t been crushed, I would have died later just thinking about it. » But Ibarra was already far away, learning about María Clara’s condition. « Let this not prevent the celebration from continuing, Señor de Ibarra! » the mayor said. « Praise God! The dead man is neither a priest nor a Spaniard. » We must celebrate your salvation. Just look, if the stone catches you underneath! « There are presentiments, there are presentiments! » exclaimed the clerk. « I already said it: Señor Ibarra was not going down at ease. I already saw it!  » « The dead man is nothing more than an indigenous person!  » « Let the celebration continue! Music! Sadness does not resurrect the dead ! Captain, the proceedings will be carried out here!… Let the director come!… Arrest the foreman! »  » To the stocks with him!  » « To the stocks! Hey! Music, music! To the foreman!  » « Mayor, » Ibarra replied gravely. « If sadness will not resurrect the dead, even less will the imprisonment of a man about whose guilt we know nothing achieve it. I stand guarantor for his person and ask for his freedom for a few days at least.  » « Good! Good! But do not reoffend! » All sorts of rumors circulated. The idea of ​​a miracle was already accepted. Friar Salví, however, seemed to take little pleasure in the miracle, which was attributed to a saint of his congregation and parish. There were also those who added that they had seen a figure dressed in a dark Franciscan robe descend into the pit as everything collapsed . There was no doubt: it was Saint Diego himself. It was also known that Ibarra had heard mass, but the yellow man had not; as clear as sunlight. « See? You didn’t want to hear mass, » a mother would say to her son. « If I hadn’t beaten you to force you, you’d be going to court like that, in a cart!  » Indeed, the yellow man or his corpse, wrapped in a mat, was being taken to court. Ibarra ran home to move. « Bad start, hum! » said old Tasio, walking away. Chapter 34. FREE THOUGHT. Ibarra was finishing getting ready when a servant announced that a peasant was asking for him. Supposing it was one of his workers, he ordered him to be taken to his office or study room, a library as well as a chemical laboratory. But with surprise, he saw the stern and mysterious figure of Elias there. « You saved my life, » he said in Tagalog, understanding Ibarra’s movement. « I have paid you half my debt and you have nothing to thank me for, quite the contrary. I have come to ask you a favor…  » « Talk! » the young man replied in the same language, surprised by the seriousness of the peasant. Elias fixed his gaze on Ibarra’s eyes for a few seconds and replied: « When the justice of men wishes to clarify this mystery, I beg you not to speak to anyone about the warning I gave you in the church.  » « Negligence, » replied the young man with a certain tone of disgust; « I know they are persecuting you, but I am no informer.  » « Oh, it’s not for me, it’s not for me! » exclaimed Elias with a certain vivacity and haughtiness; « it’s for you: I fear nothing from men. » Our young man’s surprise increased: the tone in which the peasant, formerly a pilot, spoke was new and did not seem to be related either to his status or his fortune. « What do you mean? » he asked, questioning the mysterious man with his eyes. « I do not speak in riddles; I try to express myself clearly. For your greater safety, it is necessary that your enemies consider you unprepared and trusting.  » Ibarra stepped back. « My enemies? Do I have enemies? » « We all have them, sir, from the smallest insect to the smallest man, from the poorest to the richest and most powerful! Enmity is the law of life!  » Ibarra looked at Elías in silence. « You are neither a pilot nor a peasant! » he murmured. « You have enemies in high and low places, » Elías continued, not noticing the young man’s words. « You are contemplating a great undertaking, you have a past. Your father and your grandfather have had enemies, because they had passions, and in life it is not criminals who provoke the most hatred, but honorable men.  » « Do you know my enemies? » Elías didn’t answer immediately and meditated. « I knew one, who is dead, » he replied. « Last night I discovered that he was plotting something against you, through some words exchanged with a stranger who got lost in the crowd. This one won’t be eaten by the fish like his father: you’ll see him tomorrow, » he said. These words caught my attention not only because of their meaning, but also because of the person who uttered them, who had presented himself to the foreman a few days earlier, with the express desire to supervise the stone-laying work, asking for no large salary and displaying great knowledge. I had no reason to believe his ill will, but something inside me told me that my presumptions were correct, and for this reason I chose, to warn you, a time and occasion appropriate so that you could not ask me questions. You already saw the rest. Elías had been silent for a long time, and Ibarra had not yet answered or said a word. He was thoughtful. « I’m sorry that man is dead! » he replied finally.  » Something more could have been learned about him! » « If he had lived, he would have escaped the trembling hand of blind human justice. God has judged him, God has killed him, God be the only Judge! » Chrysostom looked for a moment at the man who was thus addressing him, and uncovering his muscular arms, covered with bruises and great contusions, said, « Do you also believe in miracles? » he said, smiling; « see the miracle of which the people speak!  » « If I believed in miracles, I would not believe in God: I would believe in a deified man, I would believe that man had truly created God in his own image and likeness, » he answered solemnly: « but I believe in Him; I have felt His hand more than once. When everything was collapsing, threatening destruction to all that was in the place, I—I held the criminal, I stood by him: he was wounded, and I am safe and sound.  » « You? So you? » « Yes! I held him when he tried to escape, once his fatal work had begun: I saw his crime. And I tell you: let God be the sole judge among men, let Him be the only one who has the right to life; « Let man never think of replacing him! » « And yet, this time you…  » « No! » Elias interrupted, guessing the objection, « it’s not the same thing. When a man condemns others to death or destroys their future forever, he does so without restraint and has the power of other men to carry out his sentences, which after all may be mistaken or erroneous. But I, by exposing the criminal to the same danger that he has prepared for the others, participated in the same risks. I didn’t kill him; I let the hand of God kill him. « Don’t you believe in chance?  » Believing in chance is like believing in miracles: both presuppose that God doesn’t know the future. What is a miracle? A contradiction, a disruption of natural laws. Unforeseen circumstances and contradictions in the Intelligence that directs the machine of the world signify two great imperfections. « Who are you? » Ibarra asked again with some fear. « Have you studied?  » « I’ve had to believe a lot in God, because I’ve lost faith in men, » the pilot replied, evading the question. Ibarra thought he understood that persecuted young man: he denied human justice , he ignored man’s right to judge his equals, he protested against the strength and superiority of certain classes over others. « Nevertheless, you must admit the necessity of human justice, however imperfect it may be, » he replied. « God, no matter how many ministers He has on earth, cannot—that is, He does not clearly express His judgment to settle the millions of disputes that our passions arouse. It is necessary, it is necessary, it is right that man should sometimes judge his fellow men!  » « Yes, to do good, not evil, to correct and improve, not to destroy, because if his judgments fail, he does not have the power to remedy the evil he has done. But, » he added, changing his tone, « this discussion is beyond my strength, and I will detain you now while you are awaited. Do not forget what I just told you: you have enemies; preserve yourselves for the good of your country. » And he took his leave. « When will I see you again? » Ibarra asked. « Whenever you wish and whenever I can be useful to you. » I am still your debtor! Chapter 35. THE DINNER There under the decorated kiosk the great men of the province were eating. The mayor occupied one end of the table; Ibarra, the other. To the young man’s right sat María Clara, and the clerk to his left. Captain Tiago, the ensign, the gobernadorcillo, the friars, the clerks, and the few young ladies who had remained sat, not according to rank, but according to their inclinations. The meal was quite lively and cheerful, but, halfway through, a telegraph clerk came in search of Captain Tiago, bringing a dispatch. Captain Tiago naturally asked permission to read it, and naturally everyone begged him. The worthy Captain first frowned, then raised his eyebrows; his face paled, then lit up, and, hastily folding the document and rising: « Gentlemen, » he said, bewildered, « His Captain General comes this afternoon to honor my house! » And he runs off, taking the report and the napkin with him, but without a hat, harassed by exclamations and questions. The announcement of the arrival of the tulisanes would not have had more effect. « But listen! » « When are you coming? » « Tell us! » « Your Excellency! » Captain Tiago was already far away. « Your Excellency is coming and staying at Captain Tiago’s house! » some exclaimed, not considering that the daughter and future son-in-law were there. « The choice couldn’t have been better! » the latter replied. The friars looked at each other; the look meant: The Captain General is doing something wrong; he’s offending us; they think like this, they keep quiet , and no one expresses their thoughts. « They’d already spoken to me about this yesterday, » said the mayor, « but then it hadn’t been decided yet.  » « Do You know, Mr. Mayor, how long the Captain General plans to stay here? » the ensign asked anxiously. « Not with certainty; He likes to spring surprises. « Here come more dispatches! » They were for the mayor, the ensign, and the governor, announcing the same thing. The friars note clearly that none of them is addressed to the priest. « We’ll be there at four in the afternoon, gentlemen! » the mayor says solemnly. « We can eat in peace! » Leonidas couldn’t have said anything better at Thermopylae: « Tonight we’ll dine with Pluto! » The conversation resumed its ordinary course. « I notice the absence of our great preacher! » said timidly one of the employees, with a harmless appearance, who hadn’t opened his mouth until lunchtime and was now speaking for the first time all morning. Everyone who knew the story of Crisóstomo’s father made a movement and a wink that seemed to say: « Come on! At the first cork, you’ll get beaten! » But some more benevolent ones answered: « You must be a little tired…  » « What a little? » exclaimed the ensign; « you must be exhausted and, as they say around here, down on your luck. Watch your talk!  » « A superb, gigantic sermon! » said the clerk. « Magnificent, profound! » added the correspondent. « To be able to talk so much, you need to have the lungs he has, » observed Father Manuel Martín. The Augustinian granted him nothing but lungs. « And your ease of expression, » added Father Salví. « Do you know that Mr. Ibarra has the best cook in the province? » said the mayor, cutting off the conversation. « That’s what I was saying, but your beautiful neighbor doesn’t want to grace the table, since she barely eats a bite, » replied one of the employees. María Clara blushed. « I thank the gentleman… he takes too much care of me, » she stammered timidly, « but… » « But you honor her enough just by your attendance, » concluded the gallant mayor, and turning to Father Salví: « Father, » he added aloud, « I notice that all day long you are Chapter 36. R. silent and thoughtful…  » « The mayor is a terrible observer! » exclaimed Father Sibyla in a particular tone. « That’s my habit, » stammered the Franciscan; « I like to listen more than I like to speak. » « Your Excellency always focuses on winning, not losing! » the second lieutenant said jokingly . Father Salví didn’t take the matter lightly: his eyes lit up for a moment , and he replied: « Your Excellency knows very well that these days I’m not the one who wins or loses the most!  » The second lieutenant covered up the blow with a fake laugh and didn’t take the hint. « But, gentlemen, I don’t understand how one can speak of profits or losses, » the mayor intervened. « What would those amiable and discreet young ladies, who honor us with their presence, think of us? To me, young women are like Aeolian harps in the middle of the night: one must listen to them and listen attentively, so that their ineffable harmonies, which elevate the soul to the celestial spheres of the infinite and the ideal…  » « Your Excellency is waxing poetic! » the clerk said happily, and they both drained their glasses. « I can’t help it, » says the mayor, wiping his lips. « Opportunity, if it doesn’t always make the thief, makes the poet. In my youth, I composed verses, and certainly not bad ones.  » « So Your Excellency has been unfaithful to the Muses by following Themis! » says our mythical or mythological correspondent emphatically. « Psh! What do you want? To rise up the social ladder has always been my dream. Yesterday I picked flowers and sang songs; today I wield the rod of justice and serve humanity; tomorrow…  » « Tomorrow, Your Excellency will throw the rod into the fire to warm himself with it in the winter of life and take up a ministerial portfolio, » adds Father Sibyla. « Psh! Yes… no… being a minister is not exactly my golden ideal: any upstart can become one. » A villa in the north to spend the summer, a hotel in Madrid and some properties in Andalusia for the winter… We will live remembering our beloved Philippines!… Voltaire will never say of me: We never were at these people who would enrich us and slander them [117]. The employees believed that HE had said a joke and began to laugh in celebration; the friars imitated them, for they did not know that Voltaire was the Voltaïré so often cursed by them and put in hell. However, Father Sibyla knew this and became serious, supposing that the mayor had uttered a heresy or impiety. In the other kiosk the children were eating, presided over by their teacher. For Filipino children, they made quite a lot of noise, for generally at the table and in front of other people they are more likely to be short-sighted than loose. Anyone who made a mistake in the use of cutlery was corrected by a neighbor; from this a discussion would arise, and both would find supporters: some would opt for the spoon, others for the fork or the knife. And since they did not consider anyone an authority, there would be a God- is-Christ argument, or more clearly, a discussion among theologians. The fathers would wink at each other, nudge each other, and make signs, and in their smiles one could see that they were happy. « Okay! » a peasant woman would say to an old man who was grinding buyo in his kalikut [118]; « even if my husband doesn’t want it, my Androy will be a priest. We are truly poor, but we will work, and if necessary, we will beg. There is no shortage of people who will give money so that the poor can be ordained. Doesn’t Brother Mateo, a man who cannot lie, say that Pope Sixtus was a carabao shepherd in Batangas? » Well , look at my Andoy! Look, he doesn’t already have the face of Saint Vincent! And the good mother’s mouth watered as she watched her son grasp the fork with both hands. « God help us! » added the old man, chewing his sapá. « If Andoy becomes Pope, we’ll go to Rome, hehe! I can still walk quite well. And if I die… hehe!  » « Don’t worry, Grandfather! Andoy won’t forget that you taught him to weave cane baskets and dikines.  » « You’re right, Petra; I also believe that your son will be a great thing …
at least a patriarch. I haven’t seen another who learned the trade in less time! Yes, he’ll remember me when the Pope or bishop is busy making baskets for his cook. He’ll say masses for my soul, hehe! » And the good old man, with this hope, fully loaded his kalikut with a large buyo. « If God hears my prayers and my hopes are fulfilled, I will say to Andoy: Son, take away all our sins and send us to heaven. We will no longer need to pray, fast, or buy papal bulls. Anyone who has a son who is a saintly Pope can commit sins!  » « Send him home tomorrow, Petra, » the old man said enthusiastically; « I’ll teach him how to work the nitô! » [120] « Hum! Abá! What do you think, grandfather? Do you think priests still move their hands? The priest, although he is only a priest, only works at mass… when he is walking around! The archbishop no longer walks around, he says mass sitting down; so the Pope… the Pope will say it in bed, with a fan! What did you imagine? » « It wouldn’t hurt, Petra, if he knew how to prepare nitô. It’s good that he could sell salakots and flasks so he wouldn’t have to beg, as the priest does here every year in the name of the Pope. It makes me feel sorry to see a poor saint, and I always give what I save.  » Another peasant came up and said, « It’s decided, cumare, my son has to be a doctor; there’s no way to be a doctor ! » « Doctor! Be quiet, cumpare [121], » Petra answered; « there’s no way to be a priest!  » « Priest? Brr! Priest? The doctor gets paid a lot of money, the sick venerate him, cumare!  » « Please! » The priest, by turning around three or four times and saying déminos pabiscum, eats God and receives money. Everyone, even the women, tells him their secrets!  » « And the doctor? Well, what do you think the doctor is? » The doctor sees everything you women have, he takes the pulses of the dalagas… I’d only like to be a doctor for a week! « And the priest? Doesn’t the priest also see what your doctor does? And even better! You know the saying: a fat hen, a round leg for the priest.  » « So what? Do doctors eat dried sardines? Do their fingers hurt eating salt?  » « Does the priest get his hands dirty like your doctors? That’s why he has large estates, and when he works, he works with music and the sacristans help him.  » « And confessing, cumare? Isn’t that a job?  » « What a job! You wish you were confessing everyone ! We work and sweat to find out what the men and women are doing, what our neighbors are doing! » The priest does nothing but sit, and they tell him everything; sometimes he falls asleep, but he lets out a few Or three blessings and we’re children of God again! I would like to be a priest on a Lenten afternoon! « And the… the preaching? You won’t tell me that isn’t work. Just see how the old priest was sweating this morning! » objected the man, who felt he was retreating. « Preaching? Is preaching work? Where’s your senses? I would like to be talking for half a day from the pulpit, scolding and chiding everyone, without anyone daring to reply, and still getting paid for it! I would like to be a priest just one morning when those who owe me are hearing Mass! Just look, just look at Father Dámaso, how he’s getting fat from so much scolding and hitting! » Indeed, Father Dámaso came along with the gait of a fat man, half smiling, but in such a malicious manner that Ibarra, upon seeing him, lost the thread of his speech. Father Dámaso was greeted, albeit somewhat strangely, with signs of joy by everyone except Ibarra. They were already at dessert and the champagne was foaming in the glasses. Father Dámaso’s smile turned nervous when he saw María Clara sitting to Crisóstomo’s right; but, taking a chair next to the mayor, he asked amid a significant silence: « Was something being discussed, gentlemen? Go on! » « It was being offered, » replied the mayor. « Mr. Ibarra was mentioning all those who had helped him in his philanthropic enterprise and was speaking of the architect, when Your Excellency…  » « Well, I don’t understand architecture, » interrupted Father Dámaso, « but I laugh at architects and the fools who come to them. » There it is: I drew up the plan of that church, and it’s perfectly constructed: that’s what an English jeweler who stayed at the convent one day told me. To draw up a plan, you only need two brain cells! « However, » replied the mayor, seeing that Ibarra remained silent, « when it comes to certain buildings, for example, like this school, we need an expert! » « What expert, what experts! » exclaimed Father Dámaso mockingly . « Anyone who needs experts is a little dog! You’d have to be more stupid than the indigenous people, who build their own houses, not to know how to build four walls and put a loft on top, which is all a school! » Everyone looked at Ibarra, but although he turned pale, he continued as if conversing with María Clara. –But consider, Your Excellency… –Look,–continues the Franciscan, not letting the Mayor speak,–look how one of our lay brothers, the most stupid we have, has built a good, pretty, and cheap hospital. He made people work well and only paid eight centavos a day to those who still had to come from other towns. He knew how to treat them, not like lunatics and half-breeds, who spoil them by paying them three or four reales. –Your Excellency says he only paid eight centavos? Impossible!–says the Mayor to change the course of the conversation. –Yes, sir, and that’s what those who pride themselves on being good Spaniards should imitate. You see, since the Suez Canal was opened, corruption has come here. Before, when we had to round the Cape, not so many lost souls came, nor did others go there to perish! « But, Father Dámaso! » « You already know what an indigenous person is like: as soon as he learns something, he kicks you out of being a doctor. All those brats who go to Europe…  » « But, listen, Your Excellency! » interrupted the mayor, who was becoming worried by the aggressiveness of those words. « They’re all going to end up as they deserve, » continued the friar; « the hand of God is visible in their midst; you’d have to be blind not to see it. The parents of such vipers already receive their punishment in this life… they die in prison, ha ha! As if to say, they have nowhere to… » But he didn’t finish the sentence. Ibarra, livid, had been following him with his eyes; upon hearing the allusion to his father, he stood up and, with a single leap, brought his robust hand down on the priest’s head, who fell backward, stunned. Filled with surprise and terror, no one dared to intervene. « Far away! » cried the young man in a terrible voice, and stretched out his hand to a sharp knife while holding the friar’s neck with his foot, as he recovered from his daze; « Whoever doesn’t want to die, don’t come near! » Ibarra was beside himself: his body was trembling, his eyes were rolling threateningly in their sockets. Fray Dámaso, making an effort, stood up, but he, grabbing him by the neck, shook him until he was on his knees and bending him over. « Señor de Ibarra! Señor de Ibarra! » some stammered. But no one, not even the ensign himself, dared to come near, seeing the knife flash, calculating the young man’s strength and state of mind . Everyone felt paralyzed. « You there! You’ve kept quiet, now it’s my turn. I prevented him. God will bring him to me, may God judge! » The young man was breathing heavily, but with an iron grip he held the Franciscan, who struggled in vain to free himself. “My heart beats calmly, my hand is secure.” And looking around him, he said, “Besides, is there anyone among you, anyone who has not loved his father, who has hated his memory, anyone born in shame and humiliation? Do you see? Do you hear that silence? Priest of a God of peace, with your mouth full of holiness and religion, and your heart full of misery, you should not have known what a father is… you should have thought of your own! Do you see? Among that crowd you despise, there is not one like you! You are judged!” The people surrounding him, believing that he was about to commit murder, made a movement. “Away!” he shouted again in a threatening voice. “What! Are you afraid that I will stain my hand with impure blood?” Have I not told you that my heart beats peacefully? Far be it from us! Listen, priests, judges, you who think you are other men and attribute other rights to yourselves! My father was an honorable man; ask this people who venerate his memory. My father was a good citizen: he sacrificed himself for me and for the good of his country. His house was open, his table set for the stranger or the exile who came to him in his misery! He was a good Christian: he always did good and never oppressed the helpless, nor distressed the wretched… To this one he opened the doors of his house, made him sit at his table, and called him his friend. How has he responded? He has slandered him, persecuted him, armed ignorance against him, availing himself of the sanctity of his office; he has desecrated his tomb, dishonored his memory, and persecuted him in the very repose of death. And, not content with this, he now persecutes his son! I fled from him, I avoided his presence… You heard him this morning desecrate the pulpit, point me out to popular fanaticism, and I remained silent. Now he comes here to seek my quarrel; I have suffered in silence, to your surprise; but once again he insults the memory most sacred to all children… You who are here, priests, judges, did you see your elderly father wither away working for you, separate from you for your good, die of sadness in prison, yearning to embrace you, seeking a being to console him, alone, sick, while you were abroad?… Did you later hear his name dishonored, did you find his tomb empty when you wanted to pray over it? No? You remain silent, then you condemn him! He raised his arm; but a young woman, swift as light, stepped in between and with her delicate hands stayed his avenging arm: it was Maria Clara. Ibarra looked at her with a look that seemed to reflect madness. Little by little, the clenched fingers of his hands loosened, letting the body of the Franciscan and the knife fall, and covering his face, he fled through the crowd. Chapter 37. COMMENTS. The event soon spread throughout the town. At first, no one wanted to believe it, but, having to give in to reality, everyone broke into exclamations of surprise. Each one, according to his degree of moral elevation, made his comments. « Father Damaso is dead! » some said; « when they lifted him up, his face was covered in blood and he was not breathing.  » « May he rest in peace, but he has only settled his fate. » « Debt! » exclaimed a young man. « Look, what he did this morning at the convent is beyond words.  » « What did he do? Did he hit the assistant priest again?  » « What did he do? Let’s see! Tell us.  » « Did you see a Spanish mestizo coming out of the sacristy this morning during the sermon?  » « Yes! We did. » Father Dámaso noticed him. « Well… after the sermon, he called him over and asked him why he had come out. ‘I don’t understand Tagalog, Father,’ he replied. « And why did you make fun of it, saying it was Greek? » Father Dámaso shouted at him, slapping him. The young man answered, and the two of them exchanged punches until they were separated. « If that happened to me… » a student muttered under his breath. « I don’t approve of the Franciscan’s actions, » replied another, « for religion should not be imposed on anyone as a punishment or a penance; but I almost celebrate it because I know that young man; I know he’s from San Pedro Macati, and he speaks Tagalog well. Now, he wants to be considered a recent arrival from Russia and takes pride in pretending to ignore his parents’ language.  » « Then God creates them and they fight!  » « However, we must protest against this act, » exclaimed another student; « to remain silent would be to agree, and what happened could happen to any of us. We’re going back to the times of Nero!  » « You’re wrong! » replied another. « Nero was a great artist, and Father Damaso was a terrible preacher! » The older people’s comments were different. While they waited for the arrival of the captain-general in a small house outside the town, the gobernadorcillo said: « Saying who is right and who is wrong is not an easy thing; However , if Señor Ibarra had been more prudent… « If Father Dámaso had been half as prudent as Señor Ibarra, you probably meant? » Don Filipo interrupted. « The problem is that the roles have been reversed; the young man has shown himself to be an old man, and the old man to be a young man.  » « And you say that no one moved, no one came to separate them, except for Captain Tiago’s daughter ? » Captain Martín asks. « None of the friars, nor the mayor? Hmm! It could be worse! I wouldn’t want to be in the young man’s shoes. No one will be able to forgive him for having been afraid of him. It could be worse, hmm!  » « Do you believe it? » Captain Basilio asks with interest. « I hope, » says Don Filipo, exchanging a look with the latter, « that the town will not abandon him. We must think about what his family has done and what he is doing now. » And if by chance, cowed, the people fall silent, their friends… « But, gentlemen, » interrupted the little governor, « what can we do? What can the people do? Whatever happens, the friars are always right.  » « They are always right, because we always agree with them, » replied Don Filipo impatiently, placing emphasis on the word  » always. » « Let’s agree with each other once and then we’ll talk! » The little governor scratched his head and, looking up at the ceiling, replied in a sour voice: « Oh! The heat of the blood! It seems you still don’t know what country we’re in; you don’t know our countrymen. The friars are rich and united, and we are divided and poor. Yes! Try to defend them and you’ll see how they’ll leave you alone in the commitment.  » « Yes! » exclaimed Don Filipo bitterly, « that will happen, as long as people think like that, as long as fear and prudence are synonymous. » More attention is paid to a possible evil than to the necessary good; fear immediately arises , not trust; each person thinks only of themselves, no one of others; that’s why we’re all weak. « Well, think of others before yourself and you’ll see how they’ll leave you hanging! » « Don’t you know the Spanish saying: ‘Charity, properly understood, begins with oneself? ‘ » « You might as well say, » the exasperated lieutenant chief replies, « that cowardice, properly understood, begins with selfishness and ends with shame! I’m submitting my resignation to the mayor right now; I’m tired of making a fool of myself without being useful to anyone… Goodbye! » The women thought differently. « Oh! » sighed a woman with a kind expression; « young people will always be like that. If their good mother were alive, what would she say? Oh, God! When I think that the same thing could happen to my son, who also has a hot head… oh, Jesus! I almost envy his dead mother… I would die of grief.  » « Well, not me, » replied another woman; « I wouldn’t be sorry if such a thing happened to my two sons.  » « What are you saying, Captain Maria? » exclaimed the first, clasping her hands. « I like it when children defend the memory of their parents, Captain Tinay; what would you say if one day, as a widow, you heard someone talking about your husband, and your son Antonio lowered his head and remained silent? » “I would deny him my blessing!” exclaims a third, Sister Rufa, “but… ” “Deny him my blessing, never!” interrupts the kind-hearted Captain Tinay, “a mother shouldn’t say that… but I don’t know what I would do … I don’t know… I think I would die… no! My God! but I wouldn’t want to see him again… but what are your thoughts, Captain Maria? ” “However,” added Sister Rufa, “we mustn’t forget that it is a great sin to lay a hand on a sacred person. ” “The memory of parents is more sacred!” replies Captain Maria. “No one, not even the Pope, and even less so Padre Damaso, can profane such a holy memory! ” “That’s true!” murmured Captain Tinay, admiring the wisdom of both of them; “where do you get such good reasons?” “But what about excommunication and damnation?” retorted Rufa. “What are honors and a good name in this life if we are damned in the next? Everything passes quickly… but excommunication… insulting a minister of Jesus Christ… no one forgives that but the Pope! ” “God, who commands us to honor our father and mother, will forgive him; God will not excommunicate him! And I tell you: if that young man comes to my house, I will receive him and speak with him; if I had a daughter, I would want him as a son-in-law: a good son will be a good husband and a good father, believe me, Sister Rufa! ” “Well, I don’t think so; say what you will, and even if it seems you are right, I will always believe the priest more. Above all, my soul except me, what are you saying, Captain Tinay? ” “Ah! What do you want me to say! You are both right; the priest is right, but God must be right too!” I don’t know, I’m nothing but a fool… What I’m going to do is tell my son not to study anymore! They say that wise men die by hanging. Holy Mary! My son, who wanted to go to Europe! What do you think you’ll do? Tell him he’s staying by my side; why learn more? Tomorrow or the day after we die; the wise man dies like the ignorant man… the point is to live in peace. And the good woman sighed and raised her eyes to heaven. Well, Captain Maria said gravely, if I were rich like you, I would let my children travel: they are young and must one day become men… I have little time left to live… we would see each other in the next life … Children should aspire to be something more than their parents, and in our bosoms we only teach them to be children. “Oh, what strange thoughts you have!” exclaimed Captain Tinay, clasping her hands. “It seems you did not give birth to your twins in pain! ” “For the same reason that I gave birth to them in pain, raised and educated them despite our poverty, I do not want them, after all the hardships they have cost me, to be only half men… ” “It seems to me you do not love your children as God commands!” said Sister Rufa in a somewhat severe tone. “Forgive me, every mother loves her children in her own way: some love them for themselves, others for themselves, and some for themselves. I am one of the latter; my husband taught me so. ” “All your thoughts, Captain Maria,” said Rufa as if preaching, “are not very religious: become sisters of the Most Holy Rosary, of Saint Francis, of Saint Rita, or of Saint Clare!” « Sister Rufa, when I am a worthy sister of men, I will try to be a sister of the saints, » the other replied smiling. To conclude this chapter of commentaries, and so that readers can see at least in passing what the simple peasants thought of the incident, We will go to the plaza, where some people are conversing under the awning. There we will see an acquaintance of ours, the man who dreamed of doctors of medicine. « What I regret most, » he said, « is that school is never finished!  » « How? How? » asked those present with interest. « My son will no longer be a doctor, but a cart driver! Nothing! There will be no more school!  » « Who says there will be no more school? » asked a rough and robust villager, with wide jaws and a narrow skull. « Me! The white fathers have called Don Crisóstomo plibastiero [122]. There is no more school! » They all stood there, wondering with their eyes. The name was new to them. « And is that name bad? » the rough villager finally dared to ask. « The worst thing one Christian can say to another!  » « Worse than ‘tarantado’ and ‘saragate’? » [123] « If only it weren’t more than that! I’ve been called that several times, and it hasn’t even given me a stomach ache.  » « Come on, he’ll be no worse than an indigenous person [124], as the ensign says! » The man who is going to have a son who is a cart driver becomes more gloomy; the other scratches his head and thinks. « Then he’ll be like betelopora [125], as the ensign’s old woman says! Worse than that is spitting in the host.  » « Well, worse than spitting in the host on Good Friday, » he answered gravely. « You remember the word ‘ispichoso,’ which was enough to apply to a man for the civilians of Villa-Abrille to take him to the desert or to jail; for ‘plebestiero’ is much worse. » According to what the telegraph operator and the director said, « a plebistero, » when spoken of by a Christian, a priest, or a Spaniard to another Christian like us, sounds like santusdeus con requimiternam: if they once call you a plebistiero, you might as well confess and pay your debts, for you have no choice but to let yourself be hanged. You know how much the director and the telegraph operator know: one speaks with wires, and the other knows Spanish and can handle nothing but a pen. Everyone was terrified. « Let them force me to wear shoes and drink nothing but that horse urine they call beer my whole life , if I ever let myself be called a plebistero! » the villager swore, clenching his fists. « Who? I, as rich as Don Crisóstomo, knowing Spanish as he does, and being able to eat quickly with a knife and spoon, would laugh at five priests! » –The first civilian I see stealing chickens, I’ll call him a palabistiero….. and I’ll confess immediately!– one of the peasants murmurs in a very low voice, moving away from the group. Chapter 38. THE FIRST CLOUD Less confusion reigned in Captain Tiago’s house than in people’s imaginations . María Clara did nothing but cry and did not listen to the comforting words of her aunt and Andeng, her foster sister. Her father had forbidden her to speak to Ibarra until the priests absolved him from his excommunication. Captain Tiago, who was very busy preparing his house to worthily receive the captain general, had been called to the convent. « Don’t cry, my child, » Aunt Isabel would say, passing the chamois over the shining glass of the mirrors. « They’ll lift the excommunication, they’ll write to the Holy Father… we’ll make a great donation… Padre Dámaso only fainted… he didn’t die!  » « Don’t cry, » Andeng would say in a low voice. « I’ll make you talk to him: what were the confessionals for, if not to commit sin? Everything is forgiven if you just tell the priest!  » « At last, Captain Tiago has arrived! » They searched his face for the answer to many questions, but Captain Tiago’s face betrayed discouragement. The poor man was sweating, he was passing his hand over his forehead , and he couldn’t utter a word. « What’s up, Santiago? » Aunt Isabel asked anxiously. He answered with a sigh, wiping away a tear. « For God’s sake, speak! What’s wrong? » « What I already feared! » she finally bursts out, half in tears. « Everything is lost! Father Damaso orders me to break off the engagement, otherwise I’ll be damned in this life and the next! Everyone tells me the same thing, even Father Sibyla! I must close the doors of my house to him. » and… I owe him more than fifty thousand pesos! I told this to her parents, but they wouldn’t listen to me. ‘What would you rather lose,’ they said, ‘fifty thousand pesos or your life and soul? Oh, Saint Anthony! If only I had known, if only I had known! ‘ María Clara sobbed. ‘Don’t cry, my child,’ she added, turning to her; ‘you’re not like your mother, who never cried… she only cried for whims… Padre Dámaso told me that a relative of his has already arrived from Spain … and he’s destined him for your suitor…’ María Clara covered her ears. ‘But, Santiago, are you crazy?’ Aunt Isabel cried at her; ‘to talk to her about another suitor now! Do you think your daughter changes suitors like she changes her shirt?’ ‘That’s what I thought, Isabel; Don Crisóstomo is rich… Spaniards only marry for the love of money… but what do you want me to do?’ They’ve threatened me with another excommunication… they say that not only my soul is in great danger, but also my body… my body, do you hear? My body! « But you only make your daughter sad! Isn’t the archbishop a friend of yours? Why don’t you write to him?  » « The archbishop is also a friar; the archbishop only does what the friars tell him. But, Maria, don’t cry; the Captain General will come, he’ll want to see you, and your eyes will be red… Oh! I thought I would have a happy afternoon… without this great misfortune I would be the happiest of men, and everyone would envy me… Calm down, my daughter: I am more miserable than you, and I don’t cry! You can have another, better fiancé, but I, I lose fifty thousand pesos! Oh, Virgin of Antipolo, if only I had luck tonight!  » Shots of fire, the rolling of carriages, the galloping of horses, and music playing the royal march announced the arrival of His Excellency the Governor-General of the Philippine Islands. Maria Clara ran to hide in her bedroom… Poor young woman! Rude hands unfamiliar with its delicate fibers are playing with your heart. While the house filled with people, and heavy footsteps, shouts of command, and the clang of sabers and spurs resounded throughout, the distressed young woman lay half-kneeling before a picture of the Virgin, which represented her in that attitude of painful solitude, felt only by Delaroche, as if he had surprised her returning from the tomb of her Son. Maria Clara wasn’t thinking about that mother’s pain, she was thinking about her own. With her head bowed on her chest and her hands resting on the ground, she resembled the stem of a lily bent by the storm. A future dreamed of and cherished for years, whose illusions, born in childhood and grown with youth, shaped the cells of her body, to want to erase it now, with a single word, from her mind and heart! It was as good as paralyzing the heartbeat of one and depriving the other of her light! María Clara was as good and pious a Christian as she was a loving daughter. Not only did the excommunication frighten her: the mandate and the threatened tranquility of her father now demanded the sacrifice of her love. She felt the full force of that affection she hadn’t suspected until then. Once upon a time, there was a river that flowed gently; fragrant flowers carpeted its banks, and its bed was formed by fine sand. Its current was barely ruffled by the wind; one would have thought, upon seeing it, that it was slowing down. But suddenly the channel narrowed, rough rocks barred its way, ancient tree trunks crossed each other, forming a dike—ah! Then the river roars, rises, the waves boil, shakes out plumes of foam, batters the rocks, and hurls itself into the abyss! He wanted to pray, but who prays in despair? One prays when one hopes, and when one doesn’t, and we turn to God, we only breathe out complaints. « My God! » his heart cried, « why separate a man like this, why deny him the love of others? You do not deny him your sun, nor your air, nor hide his sight of your sky. Why deny him love, when without sky, without air, and without sun one can live, but never without love? Would those cries, which men cannot hear, reach the throne of God? Would the Mother of the Wretched hear them? » Alas! The poor young woman, who had never known a mother, dared to confide these sorrows caused by earthly loves to that purest heart, which had only known the love of a daughter and that of a mother. In her sadness, she turned to that divinized image of woman, the most beautiful idealization of the most ideal of creatures, to that poetic creation of Christianity, which unites in itself the two most beautiful states of womanhood, virgin and mother, without their miseries, and whom we call Mary. « Mother, mother! » she moaned. Aunt Isabel came to rescue her. Some friends had arrived, and the Captain-General wanted to speak to her. « Aunt, say I’m sick! » the terrified young woman pleaded.  » They’re going to make me play the piano and sing!  » « Your father promised. Are you going to let someone displease your father? » María Clara stood up, looked at her aunt, twisted her beautiful arms , and stammered: « Oh! If only I had… » But she didn’t finish her sentence and began to dress up. Chapter 39. YOUR EXCELLENCY. « I wish to speak with that young man! » His Excellency said to an aide; « he has awakened my complete interest.  » « They have already gone to fetch him, My General. But there is a young man from Manila here who insistently demands to be brought in. We told him that Your Excellency had no time and that he had not come to hold audiences but to see the town and the procession, but he replied that Your Excellency always has time available to administer justice…  » His Excellency turned to the mayor, marveling. « If I’m not mistaken, » the latter replied with a slight bow, « it is the young man who had a dispute with Father Dámaso this morning over the sermon.  » « Another one? Has that friar intended to stir up the province, or does he believe he is in charge here? Tell the young man to come in! » His Excellency paced nervously from one end of the room to the other. In the anteroom were several Spaniards, mingled with military personnel and authorities from the town of San Diego and the surrounding area: grouped in a circle, they were conversing or arguing. All the friars were also there, except for Father Dámaso, and they wanted to come in to pay their respects to His Excellency . « His Excellency the Captain General begs Your Royal Highness to wait a moment! » said the aide. « Come in, young man! » That Manila native, who confused Greek with Tagalog, entered the room pale and trembling. Everyone was filled with surprise: His Excellency must have been very irritated to dare to keep the friars waiting. Father Sibyla said: « I have nothing to say to you!… I’m wasting time here! »  » I’m saying the same thing, » added an Augustinian. « Shall we go? » « Wouldn’t it be better if we found out what he thinks? » asked Father Salví; « we would avoid a scandal… and… we could remind him… of his duties to religion…  » « Your Royal Highnesses may come in, if you please! » said the assistant, leading the young man who didn’t understand Greek, who now came out with a face full of satisfaction. Brother Sibyla entered first; behind them came Father Salví, Father Manuel Martín, and the other religious. They greeted him humbly, except for Father Sibyla, who, even in his bow, retained a certain air of superiority; Father Salví, on the other hand, almost bent at the waist. « Which of Your Royal Highnesses is Father Dámaso? » His Royal Highness asked suddenly , without making them sit down, or inquiring about their health, or addressing them with the flattering phrases to which such high personages were accustomed. « Father Dámaso is not with us, sir! » Father Sibyla replied in almost the same dry tone. « Your Excellency’s servant is lying sick in bed, » Father Salví humbly added. « After having the pleasure of greeting him and learning of Your Excellency’s health, as is fitting for all the king’s good servants and all people of education, we also came on behalf of Your Excellency’s respectful servant who has the misfortune…  » « Oh! » the Captain General interrupted, spinning a chair on one foot and smiling nervously. « If all of My Excellency’s servants were like Your Reverence, Father Dámaso would prefer to I myself will serve My Excellency! Their Reverences, who were already standing in body, also remained so in spirit at this interruption. « Please be seated, Your Royal Highness! » he added after a brief pause, softening his tone somewhat. Captain Tiago was wearing a tailcoat and walked on tiptoe; he was leading María Clara by the hand, who entered hesitantly and full of shyness, yet nevertheless made a graceful and ceremonious bow. « Is that young lady your daughter? » asked the Captain General in surprise. « And Your Excellency, My General! » replied Captain Tiago seriously. The mayor and the aides opened their eyes; but His Excellency, without losing his seriousness, extended his hand to the young woman and said affably: « Happy are the parents who have daughters like you, young lady! They have spoken to me of you with respect and admiration… I have longed to see you to thank you for the beautiful act you have performed today .  » I am aware of everything, and when I write to His Majesty’s government, I will not forget your generous behavior . In the meantime, allow me, Mademoiselle, in the name of His Majesty the King whom I represent here, who loves the peace and tranquility of his faithful subjects, and in my own name, in that of a father who also has daughters your age, to offer you my most sincere thanks and propose you for a reward! « Sir! » replied Maria Clara, trembling. He guessed what she meant and replied: « It is very well, Mademoiselle, that you be content with your conscience and with the esteem of your fellow citizens: by faith, it is the best reward, and we should not have asked for more. But do not deprive me of a beautiful opportunity to show that if justice knows how to punish, it also knows how to reward, and that it is not always blind. » All the words in italics were pronounced with greater significance and in a louder voice. “Señor Don Juan Crisóstomo Ibarra awaits orders from Chapter 40. E.!” an aide said loudly. María Clara shuddered. “Ah!” exclaimed the Captain General, “allow me, miss, to express my desire to see you again before leaving this town: I still have some very important things to tell you. Señor Mayor, VS will accompany me during the walk, which I wish to take on foot, after the conference I will have privately with Señor Ibarra. ” “Your Excellency will allow us to warn you,” said Father Salví humbly, “that Señor Ibarra is excommunicated… ” He interrupted him, saying: “I am very glad that I have nothing to deplore except the condition of Padre Dámaso, for whom I sincerely wish a complete recovery, because at his age a trip to Spain for health reasons cannot be very pleasant. But this depends on him… and in the meantime, may God preserve your health.” RR.! Both sides withdrew. « And so much depends on him! » Father Salví murmured as he left. « We’ll see who will make the trip sooner! » another Franciscan added. « I’m leaving right now! » Father Sibyla said angrily. « And we’ll go back to our province! » the Augustinians said. Both sides could not bear that, because of a Franciscan, HE had received them coldly. In the anteroom, they met Ibarra, their host of a few hours. They didn’t exchange greetings with him, but they did exchange glances that spoke volumes. The mayor, on the other hand, when the friars had disappeared, greeted him and extended his hand familiarly, but the arrival of the assistant who was looking for the young man didn’t give rise to any conversation. At the door, he met María Clara: their glances also spoke many things, but quite different from what the friars’ eyes said. Ibarra was dressed in strict mourning. He appeared serene and bowed deeply, even though the friars’ visit did not seem to him to be a good omen. The Captain General took a few steps toward him. « I am very pleased, Señor Ibarra, to shake your hand. Allow me to receive you in my confidence. » His Excellency, indeed, contemplated and examined the young man with marked pleasure. « Sir… such kindness! » « Your surprise on your part offends me; it tells me you did not expect a warm welcome from me: this is doubting my justice!  » « A friendly welcome, sir, for an insignificant subject of Her Majesty like myself, is not justice, it is a favor.  » « Good, good! » said His Excellency, sitting down and pointing to a seat for him. « Let us enjoy a moment of relaxation; I am very pleased with your conduct and have already proposed you to His Majesty’s government for a decoration for the philanthropic thought of erecting a school… Had you addressed yourself to me, I would have witnessed the ceremony with pleasure and perhaps would have saved you some trouble.  » « The thought seemed so small to me, » replied the young man, « that I did not believe it worthy enough to distract Your Excellency’s attention from your numerous occupations; besides, it was my duty to first address the highest authority in my province. » He shook his head with a satisfied air, and, adopting an increasingly familiar tone, continued: “As for the disagreement you have had with Father Dámaso, bear no fear or resentment: not a hair of your head will be touched as long as I govern the islands; and as for the excommunication, I will speak to the archbishop later, because it is necessary that we adapt to the circumstances: here we could not laugh about these things in public as in the peninsula or in cultured Europe. Nevertheless, be more prudent from now on; you have placed yourself face to face with religious corporations which, because of their importance and wealth, need to be respected. But I will protect you because I like good children, I like the memory of parents to be honored; I too have loved mine, and by God! I don’t know what I would have done in your place.” And quickly changing the subject, he asked: “I’ve been told you come from Europe.” Were you in Madrid? —Yes, sir, for a few months. —Did you perhaps hear of my family? —Your Excellency had just left when I had the honor of being introduced to them.
—And how then did you come without bringing me any recommendation? —Sir,—replied Ibarra, bowing,—because I do not come directly from Spain, and because, having been told of Your Excellency’s character, I believed that a letter of recommendation would not only be useless, but even offensive: all of us Filipinos are recommended to you. —A smile appeared on the lips of the old soldier, who replied slowly, as if measuring and weighing his words: —I am flattered that you think so, and… so it should be! However, young man, you must know what burdens weigh on our shoulders in the Philippines. Here, we old military men have to do or be everything: king, minister of State, of War, of the Interior, of Public Works, of Grace and Justice, etc., and the worst part is that for each matter we have to consult the distant mother country, which approves or rejects, depending on the circumstances, sometimes blindly! our proposals. As we Spaniards say: he who grasps too much, accomplishes little! We also generally come here with little knowledge of the country and leave it when we begin to get to know it. I can be frank with you, for it would be useless to pretend otherwise. So, if in Spain, where each branch has its minister, born and raised in the same locality, where there is press and public opinion, where the open opposition opens the eyes of the government and enlightens it, everything is imperfect and defective, it is a miracle that here everything is not in turmoil, lacking those advantages, and a more powerful opposition living and plotting in the shadows. We rulers do not lack good will, but we are forced to rely on the eyes and arms of others, whom we generally do not recognize, and who perhaps instead of serving their country, only serve their own interests. This is not our fault, it is due to circumstances; the friars help us a great deal to get through this situation, but they are no longer enough… You inspire my interest and I wish that the imperfection of our current government system wouldn’t harm you in any way… I can’t look after everyone, nor can everyone come to me. Can I be of any use to you? Do you have anything to ask for? Ibarra reflected. « Sir, » he replied, « my greatest wish is the happiness of my country, a happiness that I would like to be due to the mother country and the efforts of my fellow citizens, united by eternal ties of common vision and common interests. What I ask for can only be given by the government after many years of continuous work and wise reforms.  » He looked at him for a few seconds, with a look that Ibarra met naturally. « You are the first man I have spoken to in this country! » he exclaimed, extending his hand. « Your Excellency has only seen those who grovel in the city, you have not visited the slandered huts of our towns: Your Excellency would have been able to see true men if to be a man it was enough to have a generous heart and simple customs.  » The Captain General stood up and began pacing up and down the room. « Señor Ibarra, » he exclaimed, suddenly stopping. The young man rose; « perhaps you will leave in a month; your education and your way of thinking are not suited to this country. Sell everything you own, pack your bag, and come with me to Europe: that climate would be more suitable for you.  » « I will keep the memory of Your Excellency’s kindness as long as I live! » Ibarra replied, somewhat moved; « but I must live in the country where my parents lived…  » « Where they died, you would say more exactly! Believe me, I perhaps know your country better than you do yourself… Ah! Now I remember, » he exclaimed, changing his tone, « you are marrying a lovely young woman, and I am detaining you here. » Go, go to her side, and for greater freedom, send me the priest, » he added, smiling. « Don’t forget, however, that I want you to accompany me for a walk. » Ibarra bowed and walked away. He called his assistant. « I’m happy! » he said, patting him lightly on the shoulder. « Today I saw for the first time how one can be a good Spaniard without ceasing to be a good Filipino and love one’s country. Today I have finally shown the reverences that we are not all their playthings. This young man has given me the opportunity, and soon I shall have settled all my accounts with the friar. It’s a pity that this young man, one day or another… but call the mayor for me!  » He appeared immediately. « Mr. Mayor, » he said upon entering, « to prevent a repetition of scenes like those you witnessed this afternoon, scenes which I deplore because they bring discredit to the government and to all Spaniards, I beg you to make a strong recommendation to Mr. Ibarra, not only to provide you with the means to achieve your patriotic goals, but also to prevent you from being bothered in the future by people of any class and under any pretext.  » The mayor understood the reprimand and bowed to hide his embarrassment. « Have the same thing be said by the ensign who commands the section here, and find out if it is true that this gentleman has his own ideas, which are not mentioned in the regulations; I have heard more than one complaint about this.  » Captain Tiago appeared stiff and ironed. « Don Santiago, » said His Excellency in an affectionate tone, « I recently congratulated you on the good fortune of having a daughter like Miss de los Santos; Now I congratulate you on your future son-in-law: the most virtuous of daughters is surely worthy of the best citizen of the Philippines. May I know when the wedding is? « Sir! » Captain Tiago stammered, wiping the sweat that ran down his forehead. « Come on, I see nothing is final yet! If there are no godfathers, I will be very happy to be one of them. It’s to remove the bad taste left in my mouth by so many weddings as I have sponsored up to now! » he added, addressing the mayor. « Yes, sir! » Captain Tiago replied with a smile that inspired compassion. Ibarra almost ran to find María Clara: he had so many things to say to her and tell her. He heard cheerful voices in one of the rooms. and knocked lightly on the door. « Who’s knocking? » asked María Clara. « Me! » The voices fell silent, and the door… did not open. « It’s me. May I come in? » asked the young man, his heart beating violently. The silence continued. Seconds later, light footsteps approached the door, and Sinang’s cheerful voice murmured through the keyhole : « Crisóstomo, we’re going to the theater tonight; write down what you have to say to María Clara. » And the footsteps moved away again, as quickly as they came. « What does this mean? » Ibarra murmured thoughtfully, slowly moving away from the door. Chapter 41. THE PROCESSION At night, with all the lanterns in the windows now lit, the procession left for the fourth time to the ringing of the bells and the usual explosions. The Captain General, who had set out on foot accompanied by his two aides, Captain Tiago, the mayor, the ensign, and Ibarra, preceded by Civil Guards and officials who cleared the way and cleared the road, was invited to watch the procession pass by the house of the Gobernadorcillo, who had erected a platform in front of it so that a praise could be recited in honor of the patron saint. Ibarra would have gladly refused to hear this poetic composition and preferred to watch the procession at Captain Tiago’s house, where María Clara had stayed with her friends, but he wanted to hear the praise and had no choice but to console himself with the idea of ​​seeing it in the theater. The procession began with the silver candlesticks, carried by three gloved sacristans; the school children followed, accompanied by their teacher; Then the boys with the paper lanterns, of various shapes and colors, placed at the end of a longer or shorter cane and decorated according to the boy’s whim, since this lighting was paid for by the children of the neighborhoods. They gladly fulfill this duty, imposed by the matandâ sa nayon [126]; each one imagines and composes his lantern, his fancy adorns it with more or less trinkets and flags, also taking into account the state of his pocket, and he lights it with a candle stub if he has a friend or relative who is a sacristan, or he buys a little red candle that the Chinese people use before their altars. In the middle, constables, lieutenants of justice, come and go to ensure that the lines do not break and the people do not crowd together. To this end, they use their staffs, with whose blows, delivered appropriately and with a certain force, they seek to contribute to the glory and brilliance of the processions for the edification of souls and the luster of religious pageantry. While the constables distribute these sanctifying liqueurs free of charge, others, to console the whipped, distribute tapers and candles of different sizes, also free of charge. « Mr. Mayor, » Ibarra says in a low voice, « are these blows given as punishment for sins or just for pleasure?  » « You are right, Mr. Ibarra! » replies the Captain General, who heard the question; « this spectacle… barbarously shocks everyone who comes from other countries. It would be advisable to prohibit it. » Without being able to explain why, the first saint to appear is Saint John the Baptist. To see him, one would say that the fame of Your Excellency’s cousin was not very well-established among the people; it is true that he had the feet and legs of a maiden and the face of an anchorite, but he rode on an old wooden litter and was obscured by a few boys, armed with their unlit paper lanterns, surreptitiously clinging to one another. « Wretch! » murmured the philosopher Tasio, who was watching the procession from the street; « it is of no use to you to be the forerunner of the Good News, nor that Jesus bowed down before you! It is of no use to you your great faith, your austerity, nor your dying for the truth and your convictions: all this is forgotten by men when only one’s own merits count ! It is better to preach poorly in churches than to be the eloquent voice crying in the wilderness; this is what the Philippines teaches you. If you had eaten turkey instead of lobsters, worn silk instead of furs, and you would have joined a corporation… But the old man suspended his apostrophe, for Saint Francis was coming. « Didn’t I say so? » he continued, smiling sarcastically; « this one is in a chariot, and—good heavens, what a chariot, how many lights and how many crystal lanterns! Never have you seen yourself surrounded by so many luminaries, Giovanni Bernardone! And what music! Other melodies your children heard after your death! But, venerable and humble founder, if you rise again now, you will see only degenerates Eliases of Cortona, and if your children recognize you, they will lock you up and you may share the fate of Caesarius of Spira. » Behind the music came a banner representing the same saint, but with seven wings, carried by the Third Brothers, wearing the gingham habit and praying in loud and mournful voices. Without knowing the reason for this, Saint Mary Magdalene came, a very beautiful image with abundant hair, a pineapple handkerchief embroidered between her ring-covered fingers, and a silk dress adorned with gold plates. Lights and incense surrounded her; her glass tears could be seen reflecting the colors of the Bengal lights, which gave the procession a fantastic appearance; so that the sinful saint wept now green, now red, now blue, etc. The houses did not begin to light these lights until Saint Francis passed by; Saint John the Baptist did not enjoy these honors, and he passed quickly, ashamed of being the only one dressed in furs among so many people covered in gold and precious stones. « There goes our saint! » the daughter of the little governor told her visitors. « I’ve lent her my rings, but it’s to win heaven.  » The lamplighters stopped around the platform to hear the praise, the saints did the same: they or their bearers wanted to hear verses. Those carrying Saint John, tired of waiting, squatted down and agreed to leave him on the ground. « The bailiff can scold me, » one objected. « Perhaps in the sacristy they leave him in a corner among cobwebs! » And Saint John, once on the ground, became like common people. From the Magdalene onwards, the women came, only instead of starting with the girls, as with the men, the old women came first, the single women bringing up the rear of the procession to the Virgin’s chariot, behind which came the priest under his canopy. This custom was shared by Father Damasus, who said: « The Virgin likes young women, not old women, » which made many pious women frown, but did not change the Virgin’s taste. Saint Diego followed Mary Magdalene, although he did not seem pleased about it, for he remained as contrite as this morning when he followed Saint Francis. Six Third Sisters pulled his chariot, for I know not what promise or illness: in fact, they pulled, and with eagerness. Saint Diego stopped in front of the platform and waited to be greeted. But they had to wait for the Virgin’s chariot, preceded by people dressed as ghosts, which frightened the children, and that is why the crying and shrieking of the careless babies could be heard. Yet, amidst that dark mass of habits, hoods, cords, and headdresses, to the sound of that monotonous, nasal prayer, one sees, like white jasmines, like fresh sampagas among old rags, twelve girls dressed in white, crowned with flowers, their hair curly, their eyes as bright as their necklaces; they looked like little spirits of light imprisoned by ghosts. They were clinging to two wide blue ribbons attached to the Virgin’s carriage, reminiscent of the doves that pull the carriage of Spring. By now all the images were attentive, pressed close together to listen to the verses; everyone’s eyes were fixed on the half-open curtain; finally, an « aaah! » of admiration escaped everyone’s lips. And he deserved it: it was a young boy with wings, riding boots, a sash, a belt, and a hat with feathers. « The mayor! » someone shouted, but the prodigy of creation began to recite a poem like him and was not offended by the comparison. Why translate here what the poor victim of the little governor said in Latin, Tagalog, and Spanish, all versified? Our Readers have already savored Father Dámaso’s sermon this morning, and we don’t want to spoil them with so many wonders. Besides, the Franciscan might look at us with resentment if we find a competitor, and this is what we don’t want, peaceful people like we are fortunate enough to be. The procession then continued: Saint John followed his path of bitterness. As the Virgin passed in front of Captain Tiago’s house, a heavenly song greeted her with the words of the Archangel. It was a tender, melodious, supplicating voice, weeping Gounod’s Ave Maria, accompanied by the piano that prayed with her. The music of the procession fell silent, the prayer ceased, and Father Salví himself stopped. The voice trembled and drew tears: it expressed more than a greeting, a prayer, a complaint. Ibarra heard the voice from the window where he was, and terror and melancholy descended upon his heart. He understood what that soul was suffering and expressing in song, and he feared to ask the cause of that pain. The Captain General found him somber and thoughtful. « Will you join me at table; there we will talk about those children who have disappeared, » he said. « Could I be the cause? » the young man murmured, looking sightlessly at His Excellency, whom he followed mechanically. Chapter 42. DOÑA CONSOLACIÓN. Why are the windows of the Ensign’s house closed? Where were, as the procession passed, the masculine face and flannel shirt of the Medusa or the Muse of the Civil Guard? Did Doña Consolación understand how unpleasant her forehead, furrowed with thick veins, apparently carrying not blood but vinegar and gall, the thick tobacco, worthy adornment of her purple lips, and her envious gaze were, and, yielding to a generous impulse, did she not want to disturb the joys of the multitude with her sinister appearance? Alas! For her, generous impulses lived in the Golden Age. The house is sad because the people are rejoicing, as Sinang said; it has neither lanterns nor flags. If the sentry were not pacing in front of the door, one would say the house was uninhabited. A weak light illuminates the untidy room and makes transparent the dirty shells [127] in which the cobweb has taken hold and the dust has settled. The lady, following her custom of being idle, dozes in a wide armchair. She dresses as she does every day, that is to say, badly and horribly: all over her head is a handkerchief tied around her head, letting loose thin, short strands of tangled hair; a blue flannel shirt over one that should have been white; and a faded skirt that shapes her thin, flat thighs, placed one on top of the other and agitated feverishly. From her mouth come puffs of smoke, which she angrily expels into the space in which she looks when she opens her eyes. If Don Francisco de Cañamaque [128] had seen her at that moment, he would have taken her for a village chief or a mankukulam [129], later embellishing his discovery with commentaries in the store language, invented by him for his own use. That morning, the lady had not heard mass, not because she had not wanted to; on the contrary, she wanted to show herself to the crowd and hear the sermon, but her husband had not allowed it, and the prohibition was accompanied, as always, by two or three insults, oaths, and threats of kicks. The ensign understood that his wife was dressed ridiculously, that she smelled of what they call a soldier’s mistress, and that it was not advisable to expose her to the gaze of the dignitaries at the head of the house or of strangers. But she did not understand it that way. He knew she was beautiful, attractive, that she had the airs of a queen and that she dressed much better and more luxuriously than María Clara herself: the latter wore a tapis, the latter a loose skirt. It was necessary for the ensign to say to her: « Either you shut up or I’ll kick you back to your f… town!  » Doña Consolación did not want to kick you back to her town, but she thought of revenge. The dark face of the lady, nor when she was painted, but that morning she was greatly disturbing, especially when they saw her pacing the house from one end to the other, silent and as if meditating on something terrible or malignant. Her gaze had the reflection that emanates from the pupil of a snake when, caught, it is about to be crushed: it was cold, luminous, penetrating, and had something viscous, disgusting, and cruel about it. The smallest fault, the most insignificant unusual noise, would draw from her a clumsy and infamous insult that slapped her soul, but no one responded: to excuse herself was another crime. Thus she spent the day. Unable to find an obstacle in her path —her husband was invited—she saturated herself with bile: one thought that the cells of her organism were charged with electricity and threatened to explode in an infamous storm. Everything around her folded, like the ears of wheat at the first breath of a hurricane; She encountered no resistance, no point or eminence on which to vent her ill humor: soldiers and servants crawled at her side. To avoid hearing the rejoicing outside, she ordered the windows closed and instructed the sentry not to let anyone in. She tied a handkerchief around her head as if to prevent it from exploding, and despite the sun still shining, she ordered the lights to be lit. Sisa, as we saw, was arrested for disturbing the peace and taken to the barracks. The ensign was not there then, and the unfortunate woman had to spend the night on a bench, with an indifferent look on her face. The next day, the ensign saw her, and fearing for her in those days of uproar, and not wanting to present an unpleasant spectacle, he ordered the soldiers to keep her under guard, treat her with compassion, and give her something to eat. Thus the demented woman spent two days. That night, whether the proximity of Captain Tiago’s house had brought María Clara’s sad song to her, or whether other strains had awakened her old songs, or whatever the cause, Sisa also began to sing, in her sweet and melancholy voice, the kundiman [130] of her youth. The soldiers heard her and fell silent: ah! those strains awakened ancient memories, memories of a time when they had not yet been corrupted. Doña Consolación also heard her in her boredom, and, aware of the person singing, ordered, after a few seconds of meditation, « Let him come up at once! » Something like a smile wandered across her dry lips. They brought Sisa, who presented herself without being perturbed, without showing surprise or fear: she seemed not to see any lady. This wounded the vanity of the Muse, who intended to inspire respect and terror. The lieutenant coughed, signaled to the soldiers to leave, and, taking down her husband’s whip, said in a sinister tone to the madwoman: « Come on, magcantar icau! » [131] Sisa, naturally, did not understand her, and this ignorance appeased her anger. One of this lady’s fine qualities was that she tried to ignore Tagalog, or at least to pretend not to know it, speaking it as poorly as possible: thus she would give herself the airs of a true orofea, [132] as she used to say. And she was right, because if she tormented Tagalog, Spanish was no better off, either as far as grammar or pronunciation were concerned. And yet her husband, the chairs, and the shoes— each one had done their best to teach her! One of the words that cost her more trouble, even than Champollion the hieroglyphics, was the word Filipinas. It is said that the day after her wedding, speaking with her husband, who was then a corporal, she had said Pilipinas; the corporal thought it his duty to correct her, and said, giving her a smack on the head: « Say Felipinas, woman! Don’t be stupid. Don’t you know that your f… country is called that because it comes from Felipe? » The woman, who was dreaming of her honeymoon, wanted to obey and said Felepinas. At last, it seemed to her that she was getting closer, she increased the smacking and rebuked her: « But, woman, can’t you pronounce Felipe? Don’t forget, he knows that King Philip… the fifth… Say Felipe, and add nas, which in Latin means islands of indigenous people, and you have the name of your rep… country.  » Consolación, a washerwoman at that time, feeling her bump or bumps, he repeated, beginning to lose patience: « Fe… lipe, Felipe… nas, Felipenas, is that right? » The corporal was left seeing visions. Why did it turn out to be Felipenas instead of Felipinas? One of two things: either it is Felipenas or should it be Felipi? That day he thought it prudent to remain silent; he left his wife and went to carefully consult the printouts. Here his admiration reached its peak; he rubbed his eyes: « Let’s see… slowly! » « Filipinas » was what all the printouts spelled out correctly: neither he nor his wife were right. « How? » he murmured, « can history lie? Doesn’t this book say that Alonso Saavedra had given this name to the country as a tribute to the Infante Don Felipe? How did this name become corrupted? » Could this Alonso Saavedra be an indigenous person? He consulted his doubts with Sergeant Gómez, who in his youth had wanted to be a priest. The latter, without deigning to look at him and blowing a puff of smoke, answered with the greatest pomp: « In ancient times, they used to say Filipi instead of Felipe; we moderns, since we’re becoming French, can’t tolerate two ‘i’s in a row. That’s why cultured people, especially in Madrid—haven’t you been to Madrid? Cultured people, I mean, are already beginning to say: minister, enritación, embitación, endino, etc., which is what is called getting up to speed in a modern way. » The poor corporal had never been to Madrid; that’s why he didn’t know the drill. What things one learns in Madrid! « So today it must be said? » « The old-fashioned way, man! » « This country is not yet cultured, in the old-fashioned way: the Philippines! » Gómez replied with disdain. The corporal, if he was a bad philologist, was on the other hand a good husband: what he had just learned, his wife ought to know as well, and she continued her education. « Consola, what do you call your f… country?  » « What should I call it? Like you taught me: Felifenas.  » « I’ll throw my chair at you, b…! Yesterday you pronounced it somewhat better, in the modern way; but now it must be pronounced in the old-fashioned way! Feli, I mean, the Philippines!  » « I see, I’m not an old-fashioned one! What do you think you are?  » « It doesn’t matter! Say the Philippines!  » « I don’t feel like it! I’m not some old-fashioned thing… barely thirty years old, » he replied, rolling up his sleeves as if preparing for battle. « Say it, rep…, or I’ll throw my chair at you! » Consolación saw the movement, reflected, and stammered, breathing heavily: « Feli… Fele… File… Bang! Crack! » The chair finished with the word. And the lesson ended with punches, scratches, and slaps. The corporal grabbed her by the hair, she grabbed him by the beard and another part of his body—she couldn’t bite because her teeth were all moving—the corporal screamed, let her go, begged her for forgiveness, blood spurted, one eye was redder than the other, a shirt was in tatters, many organs came out of their hiding places, but Filipinas didn’t come out. Similar adventures happened whenever language was involved. The corporal, who saw her linguistic progress, calculated with sorrow that in ten years his wife would completely lose the use of speech. Indeed, that is what happened. When they married, she still understood Tagalog and made herself understood in Spanish; Now, at the time of our story, she no longer spoke any language: she had become so fond of the language of gestures, and of these she chose the loudest and most forceful, that she gave fifteen and a half to the inventor of the volapük. Sisa, then, was fortunate not to understand her. Her brows loosened slightly , a smile of satisfaction animated her face; undoubtedly she no longer knew Tagalog, she was now an orofea. « Attendant, tell this one to sing in Tagalog! She doesn’t understand me, she doesn’t know Spanish! » The crazy woman understood the attendant and sang the song of the night. Doña Consolación listened at first with a mocking laugh, but the laughter gradually disappeared from her lips; she became attentive, then serious and somewhat thoughtful. The voice, the meaning of the verses, and the song itself impressed her: that arid and dry heart was perhaps thirsty for rain. She understood it well: the sadness, the cold, and the humidity that descend from the sky wrapped in the cloak of night, according to the kundiman, seemed to descend upon her heart as well; the withered and wilted flower that, during the day, had displayed its finery, eager for applause and full of vanity, at nightfall, repentant and disillusioned, makes an effort to lift its withered petals to the sky, asking for a little shade to hide in and die without the mockery of the light that saw it in its pomp, without seeing the vanity of its pride, a little dew also to weep upon it. The nocturnal bird leaves its solitary retreat, the hollow of the ancient trunk, and disturbs the melancholy of the forests… « No, don’t sing! » exclaimed the ensign in perfect Tagalog, rising agitatedly; « Don’t sing! Those verses hurt me! » The crazy woman fell silent; the attendant blurted out: « Abá! Does she know Tagalog? » and stared at the lady full of admiration. She realized she had given herself away; she was ashamed, and, as her nature was not that of a woman, her shame took the form of rage and hatred. She pointed the door at the imprudent man and with a kick closed it behind him. She walked around the room a few times, twisting the whip in her sinewy hands, and, suddenly stopping in front of the madwoman, said to her in Spanish: « Dance!  » Sisa did not move. « Dance, dance! » she repeated in a sinister voice. The madwoman looked at her with vague, expressionless eyes: the lieutenant raised one arm, then the other, shaking them: useless, Sisa did not understand. She began to jump, to shake herself, encouraging the other to imitate her. In the distance, the procession music could be heard playing a grave and majestic march, but the lady was jumping furiously to a different beat, a different kind of music, the one that resonated within her. Sisa looked at her motionless: something like curiosity appeared in her eyes, and a faint smile moved her pale lips: she found the lady’s dance amusing. She stopped as if embarrassed, raised the whip, that terrible whip known to thieves and soldiers, made in Ulangô and perfected by the ensign with twisted wires, and said: « Now it’s your turn to dance… dance! » And she began to weakly lash the crazy woman’s bare feet, whose face contorted with pain, forcing her to defend herself with her hands. « Aha! Here you go! » she exclaimed with personable joy, and from the slow dance she passed to an allegro vivace. The unfortunate woman let out a moan of pain and quickly lifted her foot. « Must you dance, you damn Indian woman? » the lady would say, and the whip vibrated and whistled. Sisa sank to the ground, clutching her legs and staring at her executioner with wild eyes. Two sharp lashes across her back made her rise; it wasn’t a moan anymore, it was two howls the unfortunate woman let out. Her fine shirt tore, her skin split, and blood spurted out. The sight of blood thrilled the tiger; the blood of her victim exhilarated Doña Consolación. « Dance, dance, you damned wretch! Damn the mother who bore you! » she would shout; « dance or I’ll whip you to death! » And she herself, holding her with one hand and lashing her with the other, began to jump and dance. The madwoman finally understood her and continued to move her arms wildly. A satisfied smile spread across the teacher’s lips, the smile of a female Mephistopheles who has succeeded in producing a great disciple; there was hatred, contempt, mockery, and cruelty: a laugh could not have expressed more. And, absorbed in the enjoyment of her spectacle, she didn’t hear her husband’s arrival until the door was loudly kicked open. The ensign appeared, pale and somber; he saw what was happening there and cast a terrible glance at his wife. She didn’t move from her place and remained smiling cynically. The ensign placed his hand as gently as he could on the strange dancer’s shoulder and made her stop. The madwoman breathed and slowly sat down on the floor, stained with her blood. The silence continued: the ensign was breathing heavily; the woman, who was watching him with questioning eyes, picked up the whip and asked him in a calm, slow voice: « What’s the matter with you? You haven’t even said good night to me! » The ensign, without answering, called his attendant. « Take that woman away, » he said; « let Marta give her another shirt and get her well taken care of! You’ll give her a good meal, a good bed… be careful not to mistreated her! Tomorrow she will be taken to Señor Ibarra’s house. » Then he carefully closed the door, bolted it, and approached his wife. « You’re looking for me to break you! » he said, clenching his fists. « What’s the matter with you? » she asked, getting up and stepping back. « What’s the matter with me? » he shouted in a thunderous voice, uttering a blasphemy and showing her a piece of paper covered in scribbles, he continued: « Didn’t you write this letter to the mayor, saying that I’m being paid to allow gambling, you p…? I don’t know how I don’t crush you! » « Let’s see! » « Let’s see if you dare! » she said, laughing mockingly. « Whoever beats me must be a bigger man than you! » He heard the insult, but saw the whip. He picked up a plate from the table and threw it at her head. The woman, accustomed to these fights, quickly stepped down, and the plate smashed against the wall; the same fate befell a cup and a knife. « Coward! » she said to him, « you dare not come near. » And she spat at him to exasperate him further. The man went wild and, bellowing, threw himself at her, but with astonishing swiftness, she whipped him across the face and ran wildly away, locking herself in her room, the door of which she violently closed. Roaring with rage and pain, the ensign pursued her, only to crash against the door, which made him vomit out blasphemies. « Damn your offspring, you swine! Open up, b… open up, or I’ll break your head! » he howled, pounding on the door with his fists and feet. Doña Consolación didn’t answer. Chairs and trunks creaked, like someone trying to erect a barricade with household furniture. The house shook with her husband’s kicks and oaths. « Don’t come in, don’t come in! » came the woman’s harsh voice. « If you even look out, I’ll shoot you. » He seemed to calm down little by little and contented himself with pacing up and down the room like a wild beast in its cage. « Go outside and cool your head! » continued the woman, who seemed to have already completed her defensive preparations. « I swear, if I catch you, not even God will see you, you filthy b…!  » « Yes! » « Now you can say what you want… You didn’t want me to go to mass! You didn’t let me do my duty to God! » she said sarcastically, as only she knew how. The second lieutenant took his helmet, tidied himself up a bit, and strode off , but after a few minutes he returned without making the slightest noise: he had taken off his boots. The servants, accustomed to such spectacles, were usually bored, but the novelty of the boots attracted their attention, and they winked at each other. The second lieutenant sat down on a chair next to the sublime door and had the patience to wait for more than half an hour. « Have you really left or are you there, bastard? » the voice asked from time to time, changing epithets but rising in tone. Finally, she began to slowly clear away the furniture; he heard the noise and smiled. « Attendant! » « Has the gentleman gone out? » cried Doña Consolación. The attendant, at a sign from the ensign, answered: « Yes, madam, he has. » She was heard laughing joyfully and drew back the bolt. Her husband slowly rose; the door opened a crack… A shout, the sound of a body falling, oaths, howls, curses, blows, hoarse voices… Who can describe what happened in the darkness of the bedroom? The attendant, going out into the kitchen, made a very significant sign to the cook. « And you’ll pay for it! » he said. « Me? In any case, the people! She asked me if I had gone out, not if I had returned. » Chapter 43. RIGHT AND MIGHT It was about ten o’clock at night. The last rockets climb lazily into the dark sky, where, like new stars, some paper balloons, recently elevated by the smoke and the air, shine heated. Some, adorned with fireworks, caught fire, threatening all the houses; for this reason, men can still be seen on the ridges of the roofs, armed with a long pole with a rag on the end and carrying a bucket of water. Their black silhouettes stand out in the vague clarity of the air, and they seem like ghosts descended from space to witness the rejoicings of men. A multitude of wheels, castles, bulls or carabaos of fire, and a great volcano that surpassed in beauty and grandeur anything the inhabitants of San Diego had seen until then, had also been burned. Now the people are heading en masse toward the town square to attend the theater for the last time. Here and there, Bengal lights are seen, fantastically illuminating the merry groups; the children use torches to search among the grass for broken bombs and other debris that could be used, but the music gives the signal and everyone abandons the meadow. The great stage is splendidly illuminated: thousands of lights surround the struts, hang from the ceiling, and litter the floor in tightly packed clusters. A bailiff looks after them, and when he comes forward to arrange them, the audience whistles and shouts: « There it is, there it is! » In front of the stage, the orchestra tunes its instruments and preludes tunes; behind it is the place the correspondent mentioned in his letter. The town’s leading figures, the Spaniards, and the wealthy foreigners were occupying the rows of chairs. The common people, people without titles or titles, occupied the rest of the plaza; some carried a bench on their backs, more to compensate for their lack of height than to sit down. This provoked noisy protests from those who had been removed from the seats; they immediately got off, but soon got back on as if nothing had happened. Comings and goings, shouts, exclamations, laughter, a stray bazooka, a firecracker or a firecracker increased the din. Here, a bench’s leg breaks and people who had come from far away to see, and now they are seen, fall to the ground; there, they quarrel and fight for their place; a little further away, a clatter of glasses and bottles breaking can be heard: it is Andeng carrying refreshments and drinks; with both hands, she carefully holds the wide tray, but she runs into the groom who wants to take advantage of the situation… The lieutenant-mayor, Don Filipo, presides over the spectacle, for the gobernadorcillo is fond of the mountain; Don Filipo speaks with old Tasio: « What should I do? » he said; « the mayor has not wanted to accept my resignation; don’t you feel strong enough to fulfill your duties? » he asked me. « And what did you answer?  » « Mr. Mayor! » I replied; the strength of a lieutenant-major, however insignificant, is like that of any authority: it comes from higher spheres. The king himself receives his from the people, and the people from God. I lack precisely this, Mr. Mayor. But the mayor wouldn’t listen to me and told me we would talk about this after the festivities. « Then may God help you! » said the old man and tried to leave. « Don’t you want to see the performance?  » « Thank you! I’m enough to dream and rave about on my own, » replied the philosopher with a sarcastic laugh. « But now I remember, hasn’t the character of our people ever caught your attention? Peaceful, they like warlike spectacles, bloody battles; democratic, they adore emperors, kings, and princes; irreligious, they are ruined by the pomp of worship; our women have a sweet character and go delirious when a princess brandishes her lance… Do you know why? » Well… The arrival of María Clara and her friends cut short the conversation. Don Filipo welcomed them and escorted them to their seats. Behind them came the priest, and also other neighbors whose job it is to escort the friars. « May God reward you in the afterlife too! » said old Tasio, walking away. The performance began with Chananay and Marianito in Crispino and the Comare. Everyone had eyes and ears on the stage except one: Father Salví. He seemed to have gone there only to keep an eye on María Clara, whose sadness gave her beauty such an ideal and interesting air that it’s understandable why he contemplated her with rapture. But the Franciscan’s eyes , deeply hidden in their hollowed-out orbits, spoke nothing of rapture: in that somber gaze, something desperately sad could be read: with such eyes, Cain must have contemplated from afar the paradise whose delights his mother had painted for him! The act was ending when Ibarra entered; his presence caused a murmur: everyone’s attention was fixed on him and the priest. But the young man didn’t seem to notice, for he greeted María Clara and her friends naturally , sitting down next to them. The only one who spoke was Sinang. « Have you been to see the volcano? » she asked. « No, my friend, I had to accompany the Captain General. » « Well, that’s a pity! The priest came with us, and he told us stories about the damned; do you think so? To frighten us so we won’t have fun, do you think?  » The priest stood up and approached Don Filipo, with whom he seemed to engage in a lively discussion. The priest spoke briskly, Don Filipo measuredly and in a low voice. « I’m sorry I can’t please Your Excellency, » he said; « Señor Ibarra is one of the largest taxpayers and has the right to stay here as long as he doesn’t disturb order.  » « But isn’t disturbing order scandalizing good Christians? It’s letting a wolf into the fold! You’ll answer for this before God and the authorities!  » « I always answer for acts that emanate from my own will, Father, » replied Don Filipo, bowing slightly; « but my small authority does not entitle me to interfere in religious matters.  » Those who wish to avoid his contact should not speak to him: Señor Ibarra doesn’t force anyone either. « But it is giving rise to danger, and whoever loves danger perishes in it.  » « I don’t see any danger, Father: the Mayor and the Captain General, my superiors, have been talking to him all afternoon, and I don’t have to teach them a lesson.  » « If you don’t throw him out of here, we’ll leave.  » « I would be terribly sorry, but I can’t throw anyone out of here. » The priest regretted it, but there was no remedy. He signaled to his companion, who stood up reluctantly, and they both left. The loyal people imitated them, but not before casting a look of hatred at Ibarra. The murmurs and whispers increased in intensity: several people approached and greeted the young man and said: « We are with you; don’t pay attention to those people.  » « Who are those? » he asked in surprise. « Those who have left to avoid his contact! » « Yes! They say you’re excommunicated. » Ibarra, surprised, didn’t know what to say and looked around. He saw María Clara hiding her face behind her fan. « But is it possible? » he finally exclaimed; « are we still in the Middle Ages? So… » And approaching the young women and changing his tone: « Excuse me, » he said; « I had forgotten an appointment; I’ll come back to accompany you.  » « Stay! » Sinang told him; « Yeyeng is going to dance at the Calandria; she dances divinely.  » « I can’t, my friend, but I’ll come back. » The murmurs redoubled. While Yeyeng came out dressed as a chula with the « Do you give me permission? » and Carvajal answered her, « Come on in, » etc., two Civil Guard soldiers approached Don Filipo, asking that the performance be suspended. « And why? » he asked, surprised. « Because the lieutenant and his wife have had a fight and can’t sleep.  » « Tell the lieutenant we have permission; no one in town has authority, not even the little governor, who is my only superior.  » « Then we must cancel the performance! » the soldiers repeated. Don Filipo turned his back on them. The guards left. In order not to disturb the peace, Don Filipo didn’t say a word to anyone about the incident. After the zarzuela piece, which was widely applauded, the Prince Villardo challenging all the Moors, who had his father prisoner, to combat; the hero threatened to cut off all their heads with a single blow and send them to the moon. Fortunately for the Moors, who were preparing for battle to the sound of Riego’s hymn, a riot broke out. The orchestra members suddenly stopped and stormed the theater, throwing their instruments. The brave Villardo, who had not expected them, mistaking them for allies of the Moors, also threw down his sword and shield and began to run. The Moors, seeing such a terrible Christian fleeing, had no problem imitating him: shouts, groans, curses, blasphemies were heard, people were running, trampling each other, lights were going out, glasses of light were thrown into the air, etc. « Tulisanes! Tulisanes! » some shouted. « Fire! » « Thieves! » others shouted; women and children were crying; benches and spectators were rolling on the ground amidst the confusion, uproar, and tumult. What had happened? Two Civil Guardsmen had chased the musicians with sticks in their hands to stop the show; the lieutenant-major and the police officers, armed with their old sabers, managed to stop them despite their resistance. « Take them to the tribunal! » shouted Don Filipo, « be careful not to let them go! » Ibarra had returned and was looking for María Clara. The frightened young women clung to him, trembling and pale; Aunt Isabel was reciting the litanies in Latin. The people, somewhat recovered from their shock and having realized what had happened, indignation burst from everyone’s hearts. Stones rained down on the group of police officers who were leading the two Civil Guardsmen; There were those who proposed burning the barracks and roasting Doña Consolación along with the ensign. « That’s what they’re for! » cried a woman, rolling up her sleeves and spreading her arms; « to disturb the town! They only persecute honest men! There are the tulisanes and gamblers! Let’s burn the barracks!  » One of them, feeling his arm, begged for confession; wailing voices came from under the fallen benches: it was a poor musician. The stage was filled with performers and townspeople, all talking at once. There was Chananay, dressed as Leonor in The Troubadour, speaking in shop language with Ratia, dressed as a schoolteacher; Yeyeng, wrapped in her silk shawl, with Prince Villardo; Balbino and the Moors were trying to console the musicians, who were more or less injured. Some Spaniards went from one place to another talking and haranguing everyone they met. But a group had already formed. Don Filipo learned of their intent and rushed to contain them. « Do not disturb order! » he shouted. « Tomorrow we will demand satisfaction, justice will be done to us; I guarantee that justice will be done to us!  » « No! » some answered. « The same thing was done in Calamba [133]; the same was promised, but the mayor did nothing. We want justice at our own hands! To the barracks! » The lieutenant-chief harangued them in vain; the group continued in its attitude. Don Filipo looked around for help and saw Ibarra. « Señor Ibarra, please! Stop them while I look for squad members!  » « What can I do? » asked the perplexed young man, but the lieutenant- chief was already far away. Ibarra, in turn, looked around, searching for someone, but without knowing who. Fortunately, he thought he spotted Elías, who was impassively witnessing the movement. Ibarra ran up to him, took him by the arm, and said in Spanish: « For God’s sake! Do something if you can; I can’t do anything! » The pilot must have understood, because he disappeared into the group. Lively discussions and rapid interjections were heard; then, little by little, the group began to disperse, each assuming a less hostile attitude. It was time, for the soldiers were emerging armed, bayonets fixed. In the meantime, what was the priest doing? Father Salví hadn’t gone to bed. Standing with his forehead against the shutters, he gazed motionless toward the plaza, occasionally letting out a compressed sigh. If the light from his lamp had not been so dim, perhaps one would have been able to see that her eyes were filling with tears. Almost an hour passed like this. From this state, he was brought out by the tumult in the square. He followed with astonished eyes the confused coming and going of the people, whose voices and shouts vaguely reached him. « One of the servants, who came breathless, informed him what was happening. » A thought crossed his mind. It is in the midst of confusion and tumult that libertines take advantage of a woman’s terror and weakness; everyone flees and is saved, no one thinks of anyone else, the scream is not heard, the women faint, trample each other, fall, terror and fear ignore modesty, and in the middle of the night… and when they love each other! He thought he saw Crisóstomo carry the fainting María Clara in his arms and disappear into the darkness. He skipped down the stairs without a hat or a cane, and like a madman headed for the plaza. There he found the Spaniards reprimanding the soldiers. He looked toward the seats occupied by María Clara and her friends and saw them empty. « Father Priest! Father Priest! » the Spaniards shouted to him, but he paid no attention and ran in the direction of Captain Tiago’s house. There he breathed: he saw in the fallen transparent window a silhouette, the adorable silhouette, full of grace and soft contours, of María Clara, and that of her aunt who was carrying cups and glasses. « Come on! » he murmured; « it seems she’s just taken ill! » Aunt Isabel then closed the shutters of the windows, and the graceful shadow disappeared. The priest left that place without seeing the crowd. Before his eyes was the beautiful bust of a maiden, sleeping and breathing sweetly. The eyelids were shaded by long eyelashes, forming graceful curves like those of Raphael’s Virgins; the small mouth smiled; the whole countenance breathed virginity, purity, innocence; that face was a sweet vision amidst the white linens of her bed, like a cherub’s head among clouds. Imagination continued seeing other things… but who writes everything that a fiery brain can imagine? Perhaps the newspaper correspondent, who ended his description of the party and all the events in this way: A thousand thanks, infinite thanks to the timely and active intervention of MRP Fr. Bernardo Salví, who, defying all danger, among those enraged people, in the midst of the unbridled mob, without a hat, without a cane, calmed the wrath of the crowd, using only his persuasive words, the majesty and authority that are never lacking in the priest of a Religion of Peace. The virtuous priest, with unparalleled self-denial, abandoned the delights of sleep, which every good conscience, like his own, enjoys, to prevent a minor misfortune from befalling his flock. The residents of San Diego will undoubtedly never forget this sublime act of their heroic Shepherd and will remain eternally grateful to him! Chapter 44. TWO VISITS. In Ibarra’s present state of mind, it was impossible for him to sleep; so, to distract his spirit and ward off the sad thoughts that become exaggerated during the night, he set to work in his solitary study. Daylight was spent making mixtures and combinations, to which he subjected pieces of cane and other substances, which he then enclosed in numbered and sealed flasks. A servant entered, announcing the arrival of a peasant. « Send him in! » he said without even turning around. Elías entered, remaining standing in silence. « Ah! » « Is that you? » Ibarra exclaimed in Tagalog upon recognizing him. « Forgive me for keeping you waiting, I hadn’t noticed: I was conducting an important experiment…  » « I don’t want to distract you! » the young pilot replied. « I came first to ask you if you wanted anything for the province of Batangas, where I’m leaving now, and then to give you some bad news… » Ibarra looked at the pilot in question. « Captain Tiago’s daughter is ill, » Elias added. quietly; but not seriously. « I already feared as much! » exclaimed Ibarra in a weak voice; « do you know what illness it is?  » « A fever! Now, if you have nothing to send…  » « Thank you, my friend; I wish you a safe journey… but first, allow me to ask you a question; if it is indiscreet, do not answer.  » Elías bowed. « How were you able to avert last night’s mutiny? » asked Ibarra, fixing his eyes on him. « Very simply! » replied Elías with the greatest naturalness; « those who directed the movement were two brothers whose father had died, beaten by the Civil Guard; one day I had the good fortune to save them from the same hands into which their father had fallen, and both of them are grateful to me for this. I addressed myself to them last night, and they took charge of dissuading the others. » « And what about those two brothers whose father was beaten to death? »  » They’ll end up like their father, » Elías replied in a low voice. « When misfortune has marked a family once, all the members must perish; when lightning strikes a tree, it reduces everything to ashes. » And Elías, seeing that Ibarra remained silent, took his leave. The latter, finding himself alone, lost the serene demeanor he had retained in the pilot’s presence, and grief showed on his face. « I, I martyred her! » he murmured. He dressed quickly and went downstairs. A little man, dressed in mourning, with a large scar on his left cheek, greeted him humbly, stopping him in his tracks. « What do you want? » Ibarra asked him. « Sir, my name is Lucas, I am the brother of the man who died yesterday.  » « Ah! I offer my condolences… and all right? » « Sir, I want to know how much you’re going to pay my brother’s family.  » « Pay? » the young man repeated, unable to suppress his displeasure.  » We’ll talk about this. » « Come back this afternoon, I’m in a hurry.  » « Just tell us how much you want to pay! » Lucas insisted. « I told you we’ll talk another day; I don’t have time today! » Ibarra said impatiently. « Don’t you have time now, sir? » Lucas asked bitterly, standing in front of him. « Don’t you have time to take care of the dead?  » « Come back this afternoon, good man! » Ibarra repeated, restraining himself. « Today I have to see a sick person.  » « Ah! And because of a sick person, you forget the dead? Do you think it’s because we’re poor? » Ibarra looked at him and cut him off. « Don’t test my patience! » he said, and continued on his way. Lucas stared at him with a hateful smile. “It’s known you’re the grandson of the one who put my father in the sun!” he muttered between his teeth. “You’re still of the same blood!” And changing his tone, he added: “But if you pay well… friends!” Chapter 45. THE HUSBANDS OF ESPADAÑA. The feast is over; the townspeople find once again, as they do every year, that the treasury is poorer, that they have worked, sweated , and stayed up all night without having fun, without acquiring new friends; in short , they have bought dearly for the bustle and the headaches. But it doesn’t matter; the same will happen next year, and the same will happen in the coming century, for this has been the custom until now. A fair amount of gloom reigns in Captain Tiago’s house: all the windows are closed, people hardly make a sound when they walk, and only in the kitchen do they dare to speak aloud. María Clara, the soul of the house, lies sick in bed; Her condition is evident in every countenance, just as spiritual ailments are evident in the features of an individual. “What do you think, Isabel: should I give alms to the Tunasan cross or to the Matahong cross?” the distressed father asks in a low voice. “The Tunasan cross grows, but the Matahong cross sweats; which do you think is more miraculous?” Aunt Isabel thinks, shakes her head, and murmurs. “Growing… growing is a greater miracle than sweating: we all sweat, but not all of us grow. ” “That’s true, Isabel, but note that sweating… sweating the wood they made for the foot of the bench is no small miracle… Come on, it would be best to give alms to both crosses; that way neither will suffer and María Clara will heal sooner… Are the quarters okay? You know that A new gentleman, a half-relative of Father Dámaso, is coming with the doctors; it is necessary that nothing be missing. At the other end of the dining room are the two cousins, Sinang and Victoria, who have come to keep the sick woman company. Andeng is helping them clean a silver tea service. « Do you know Dr. Espadaña? » María Clara’s foster sister asks Victoria with interest . « No! » answers the person being questioned; « the only thing I know about him is that he charges a lot, according to Captain Tiago.  » « Then he must be very good! » says Andeng; « the one who pierced Doña María’s belly charged a lot; that’s why he was wise.  » « Fool! » exclaims Sinang, « not everyone who charges a lot is wise. Look, Dr. Guevara, after failing to deliver the baby by cutting off the baby’s head, charges the widower fifty pesos… What he knows how to do is collect. » « What do you know? » his cousin asked, nudging him. « Should I not know? The husband, a lumberman, after losing his wife, also had to lose his house, because the mayor, a friend of the doctor, forced him to pay… Should I not know? My father lent him the money to make the trip to Santa Cruz . [134] A carriage stopped in front of the house, cutting short all conversation. Captain Tiago, followed by Aunt Isabel, ran down the stairs to greet the new arrivals. They were Doctor Don Tiburcio de Espadaña, his wife, Doctor Doña Victorina de los Reyes de Espadaña, and a young Spaniard with a pleasant countenance and agreeable appearance. She wore a silk gown embroidered with flowers and a hat with a large parrot, half crushed between blue and red ribbons; the dust of the road, mingling with the rice powder on her cheeks, seemed to increase her wrinkles. As when we saw her in Manila, today she is also leading her lame husband by the arm. “I have the pleasure of presenting to you our cousin, Don Alfonso Linares de Espadaña!” said Doña Victorina, pointing to the young man; the gentleman is the godson of a relative of Padre Dámaso, private secretary to all the ministers… The young man bowed graciously; Captain Tiago almost kissed her hand. While the numerous suitcases and traveling bags were being carried up, while Captain Tiago led them to their apartments, let us say something about this couple, whose acquaintance we have so briefly touched upon in the first chapters. Doña Victorina was a lady of her forty-five years, equivalent to thirty-two years, according to her arithmetic calculations. She had been pretty in her youth, had good flesh—so she was fond of saying—but enraptured by the contemplation of herself, she had looked with great disdain on many Filipino adorers she had, for her aspirations were of another race. She refused to grant her white, tiny hand to anyone, but not out of distrust, for she had often given jewels of inestimable value to various foreign and domestic adventurers. Six months before the time of our story, she saw her most beautiful dream realized, the dream of her entire life, for which she would scorn the flattery of youth and even the promises of love from Captain Tiago, once whispered in her ears or sung in some serenade. It is true that the dream came true late; but Doña Victorina, who, although she spoke Spanish poorly, was more Spanish than Agustina de Zaragoza, and knew the proverb, « Better late than never, » consoled herself by saying it to herself. « There is no complete happiness on earth, » was her other intimate proverb, because neither ever left her lips in front of other people. Doña Victorina, who had spent her first, second, third, and fourth youth casting nets to fish in the seas of the world for the object of her sleepless nights, had at last to be content with what fate had in store for her. The poor thing, if instead of being thirty- two years old, she had only been thirty-one—the difference in her arithmetic was very great—she would have returned to fate the prey it had offered her, to wait for another one in accordance with her wishes. tastes. But since man proposes and necessity disposes, she, who was already in dire need of a husband, was forced to settle for a poor man who had left Extremadura and, after wandering the world for six or seven years, a modern Ulysses, finally found on the island of Luzon hospitality, money, and an outdated Calypso, his better half… alas! And the orange was sour. The unfortunate man’s name was Tiburcio Espadaña, and although he was thirty-five and looked old, he was younger than Doña Victorina, who was only thirty-two. The reason for this is easy to understand, but dangerous to say. He had gone to the Philippines as a fifth-ranking customs officer, but he had such bad luck that, in addition to getting seasick a lot and fracturing his leg during the voyage, he found himself fifteen days after his arrival with the severance pay that the Salvadora opportunely brought him, when he was already penniless. Having learned his lesson from the sea, he refused to return to Spain without making a fortune, and he considered dedicating himself to something. His Spanish pride didn’t allow any physical labor: the poor man would have gladly worked to live honestly, but the prestige of the Spanish people wouldn’t have allowed it, and this prestige didn’t save him from hardship. At first, he lived at the expense of some of his fellow countrymen, but since Tiburcio was honest, his bread tasted bitter, and instead of gaining weight, he grew thinner. Having neither knowledge, nor money, nor any recommendations, his fellow countrymen advised him , to get rid of him, to go to the provinces and pass himself off as a medical doctor. The man was reluctant at first, for although he had been a servant at the San Carlos Hospital, he had learned nothing about the science of healing: his job was to sweep the dust off the benches and light the braziers, and this lasted only a short time. But as necessity was pressing and his friends dispelled his scruples, he finally listened to them, went to the provinces, and began by visiting some sick people, charging modestly as his conscience dictated.
But, like the young philosopher Samaniego speaks of, he ended up charging dearly and setting a high price for his visits; hence, he was soon considered a great physician and would probably have made his fortune if the chief physician of Manila had not learned of his exorbitant fees and the competition he offered the others. Private individuals and professors interceded on his behalf. « Come on! Dr. C., let him make his little capital, and as soon as he has six or seven thousand pesos, he will be able to return to his homeland and live there in peace. In the end, what does that do to you? Deceive the unwary indigenous people? Well, let them be smarter. He’s a wretch; don’t take the bread out of his mouth; be a good Spaniard! » The doctor was a good Spaniard and agreed to turn a blind eye; but when the news reached the ears of the people, they began to distrust him, and soon Don Tiburcio Espadaña lost his clientele and found himself almost obliged to beg for his daily bread. At that time, he learned from a close friend of his, who had been Doña Victorina’s, of the lady’s predicament , her patriotism, and her good heart. Don Tiburcio saw a piece of heaven there and asked to be introduced. Doña Victorina and Don Tiburcio met. « Tard veniéntibus ossa, » he would have exclaimed, had he known Latin. « She was no longer passable, she was out of date. » Her abundant hair had been reduced to a bun, as large, as her maid said, as a head of garlic; wrinkles furrowed her face, and her teeth were beginning to move; her eyes had also suffered considerably. She had to squint frequently to look into the distance: her character was the only thing she had left. After half an hour of conversation, they understood each other and accepted each other. She would have preferred a Spaniard with less lameness, less stuttering, less baldness, less jagged hair, who spit less when he spoke and had more spirit and class, as she used to say; but this kind of Spaniard never approached her to ask for her hand in marriage. She had heard it said more than once that the occasion They paint her bald, and she honestly believed that Don Tiburcio was the same cause, since thanks to her dark nights she was suffering from premature baldness. What woman isn’t prudent at thirty-two? Don Tiburcio, for his part, felt a vague melancholy when thinking about his honeymoon. He smiled with resignation and evoked the ghost of hunger to his aid. He had never had ambition or pretensions; his tastes were simple, his thoughts limited; but his heart, virgin until then, had dreamed of a very different divinity. Back in his youth, when, tired of working after a frugal supper, he went to lie down in a bad bed to digest his gazpacho, he fell asleep thinking of a smiling, caressing image. Later, when the troubles and privations increased, the years passed, and the poetic image no longer appeared. He simply thought of a good, industrious, hard-working woman who could provide him with a small dowry, console him for the fatigue of work, and scold him from time to time—yes, he thought of quarrels as a source of happiness! But when, forced to wander from country to country in search, not of fortune, but of some comfort to live out his remaining days; when, deluded by the acquaintances of his countrymen who had come from overseas, he embarked for the Philippines, realism gave way to an arrogant mestiza, a beautiful Indian woman with large black eyes, wrapped in silks and transparent fabrics, loaded with diamonds and gold, offering him her love, her carriages, etc. He arrived in the Philippines and believed he had realized his dream, for the young women, who in silver carriages came to the Luneta and the Malecón, had looked at him with a certain curiosity. But once laid off, the mestizo or Indian woman disappeared, and with difficulty he forged the image of a widow, but a pleasant one. So when he saw his dream take shape in part, he became sad, but, as he had a certain amount of natural philosophy, he said to himself: That was a dream, and one doesn’t live dreaming in the world ! This was how he resolved his doubts: she uses rice powder, well! When they get married, she’ll have it removed; she has many wrinkles, but his frock coat has even more rips and mendings; she’s a pretentious, imposing, and manly old woman, but hunger is more imposing, terrible, and even more pretentious, and then that’s what he was born for, sweet-tempered, and love changes character. She speaks Spanish very badly; he doesn’t speak it well either, according to what the head of the Bureau said when he notified him of his dismissal, and besides, what does it matter? Is she an ugly, ridiculous old woman? He ‘s lame, toothless, and bald! Don Tiburcio preferred to care for someone rather than not be cared for because he was starving. When a friend mocked him, he would respond: « Give me bread and call me a fool.  » Don Tiburcio was what they commonly call a man who wouldn’t hurt a fly. Modest and incapable of harboring a bad thought, he would have become a missionary in the old days. His stay in the country hadn’t been able to give him that conviction of lofty superiority, of great worth, and of lofty importance that most of his countrymen acquire after a few weeks . His heart has never been able to harbor hatred; he has yet to encounter a single filibuster; he only saw unfortunates whom he had to fleece, if he didn’t want to be more unhappy than them. When they tried to bring a case against him for passing himself off as a doctor, he didn’t resent it, he didn’t complain; he acknowledged justice and only replied: « But we must live! » They married or hunted, then, and went to Santa Ana to spend their honeymoon . But on their wedding night, Doña Victorina suffered a terrible indigestion, and Don Tiburcio thanked God, showing himself solicitous and careful. On the second night, however, he behaved like an honorable man, and the next day, when he looked in the mirror, he smiled melancholy, revealing his gumless gums; he had aged at least ten years. Doña Victorina, very pleased with her husband, had him fitted for a good set of false teeth, and had him dressed and outfitted by the best tailors in the city; she ordered chandeliers and carriages, and asked Batangas and Albay the best trunks and even forced him to have two horses for the upcoming races. While she was transforming her husband, she didn’t forget her own person: she left the silk skirt and pineapple shirt for European dress; she replaced the simple headdress of the Philippines with fake bangs, and with her clothes, which suited her divinely ill, she disturbed the peace of the entire quiet and idle neighborhood. Her husband, who never went out on foot—she didn’t want his limp to be seen—took her for walks in the most solitary places, much to Eva’s chagrin. She wanted to show off her husband in the most public outings, but kept quiet out of respect for their honeymoon. The last quarter moon began when he tried to talk to her about the rice powder , saying that it was fake, unnatural; Doña Victorina furrowed her eyebrows and looked at his false teeth. He fell silent, and she understood his weakness. She soon believed she was a mother and announced it to all her friends: « Next month, de Espadaña and I are going to the Peninsula; I don’t want our son to be born here and be called a revolutionary.  » She added a « d » to her husband’s surname; the « d » didn’t cost anything and gave the name its status. When she signed, she wrote: Victorina de los Reyes de de Espadaña; this « d » was her obsession; neither the person who lithographed her cards nor her husband could get it out of her head. « If I only put a « d, » he’d think you didn’t have it, you fool! » she would say to her husband. She talked continuously about her travel preparations, memorized the names of the ports of call, and it was a pleasure to hear her speak: « I’m going to see the ism in the Suez Canal: De Espadaña thinks it’s the most beautiful thing. She has traveled all over the world from De Espadaña.  » « Probably I won’t return to this country as a person. »  » I wasn’t born to live here; Aden or Port Said would be more suitable for me; I’ve believed so since I was a child, etc. In her geography, Doña Victorina divided the world into the Philippines and Spain, unlike the pimps who divide it into Spain and America, or China by another name. Her husband knew that some of these things were barbaric, but he kept quiet so that she wouldn’t shout at him and reproach him for his stuttering. She acted capricious to increase her maternal illusions and decided to dress in colors, cover herself with flowers and ribbons , and parade around the Escolta in a negligee, but oh, disappointment! Three months passed and the dream evaporated, and there being no longer any reason for her son not to be a revolutionary, she gave up the trip. She consulted doctors, midwives, old women, etc. , but to no avail. She, who, to the displeasure of Captain Tiago, mocked Saint Pascual Bailón, did not want to resort to any saint or holy woman. so a friend of her husband told her: « Believe me, madam; you are the only strong spirit in this dull country! » She smiled, not understanding what a strong spirit was, and at night, at bedtime, she asked her husband. « Daughter, » he replied, « the e… strong spirit I know is ammonia: my friend must have been speaking out of rhetoric. » From then on, she would always say whenever she could: « I am the only ammonia in this very dull country, speaking out of rhetoric; that is what Señor N. de N., a peninsular of the highest caliber, said .  » Whatever she said had to be done, she had come to completely dominate her husband, who for his part offered little resistance, becoming a kind of lapdog to her. If he bothered her, she wouldn’t let him go for a walk, and when she got really angry, she would knock out his teeth, leaving him horrible for a day or more. It occurred to her that her husband should be a doctor of medicine and surgery , and she told him so. « Daughter! Do you want me arrested? » he asked, frightened. « Don’t be silly and let me sort things out; you’re not going to cure anyone, but I want them to call you doctor and me doctoress; that’s it!  » And the next day Rodoreda was commissioned to engrave on a marble slab the black person: DOCTOR OF ESPADAÑA, SPECIALIST IN ALL KINDS OF DISEASES. All the servants were to be given the new titles, and consequently From this came an increase in the number of bangs, the layer of rice powder, the ribbons, and lace, and she looked with more disdain than ever on her poor and unfortunate countrywomen, whose husbands were of lesser rank than hers. Every day she felt herself becoming more dignified and elevated, and if she continued on this path, within a year she would believe herself to be of divine origin. These sublime thoughts, however, did not prevent her from becoming older and more ridiculous every day. Every time Captain Tiago met her and remembered having made love to her in vain, he would immediately send a peso to the church for a thanksgiving mass. Despite this, Captain Tiago greatly respected her husband for his title as a specialist in all kinds of illnesses, and she listened attentively to the few sentences he managed to utter in his stuttering manner. For this reason, and because this doctor did not see everyone like other physicians, Captain Tiago chose him to attend to his daughter. As for young Linares, things were a different story. When the voyage to Spain was being prepared, Doña Victorina considered a peninsular administrator, not trusting the Filipinos. Her husband remembered a nephew in Madrid, who was studying to be a lawyer and was considered the cleverest in the family. They wrote to him, paying his passage in advance, and when the dream faded, the young man was already sailing. These are the three individuals who had just arrived. While they were having their second lunch, Father Salví arrived, and the couple, who already knew him, presented young Linares with all his titles, who blushed. They spoke of María Clara, as was natural; the young woman was resting and sleeping. They spoke of the voyage; Doña Victorina displayed her verbosity by criticizing the customs of the provincials, their nipa houses, the cane bridges, without forgetting to tell the priest about her friendships with the second corporal, with such-and-such mayor, with such-and-such judge, with the intendant, etc., all people of rank who showed her great respect. « You could have come two days earlier, Doña Victorina, » replied Captain Tiago after a brief pause, « and you would have found His Excellency the Captain General: he was sitting there.  » « What? How? You were here, Your Excellency? And at your house? Lie!  » « I tell you, he used to sit there! You could have come two days earlier…  » « Ah! What a pity Clarita didn’t get sick sooner! » she exclaimed with true regret, and turning to Linares: « Do you hear, cousin? Your Excellency was here! See if De Espadaña was right when he told you that you weren’t going to the house of a miserable indigenous person? » Because you know, Don Santiago, that our cousin was a friend of ministers and dukes in Madrid and ate at the house of the Count del Campanario. « About the Duke of la Torre, Victorina, » her husband corrects her. « It doesn’t matter, will you tell me? » « Would I find Padre Dámaso in his village today? » Linares interrupted, addressing Padre Salví; « they told me he’s near here.  » « He’s right here and will be back shortly, » the priest replied. « How glad I am! I have a letter for him, » the young man exclaimed, « and if it weren’t for this happy coincidence that brings me here, I would have come expressly to visit him.  » Happy coincidence had meanwhile awakened. « From Espadaña, » says Doña Victorina, finishing her lunch, « are we going to see Clarita? » And to Captain Tiago: « Only you, Don Santiago, only you! » My husband only cures people of rank, and even more! My husband is not like those here… in Madrid he only visited people of rank. They went to the sick woman’s room. The room was almost dark, the windows closed for fear of a draft, and the little light that illuminated it came from the candles burning in front of an image of the Virgin of Antipolo. Her head covered with a handkerchief soaked in cologne, her body carefully wrapped in white sheets of abundant folds that veiled her virginal form, the young woman lay on her kamagon [136] cot, between curtains of jusi and pineapple. Her hair, forming a frame around her oval face, increased that transparent pallor, animated only by her large eyes, full of sadness. At her side were her two friends and Andeng with a bouquet of lilies. De Espadaña took her pulse, examined her tongue, asked a few questions, and said, shaking his head from side to side: « She… she’s sick, but she can be cured!  » Doña Victorina looked proudly at those present. « Lichen with milk in the morning, syrup of marshmallow, two pills of cynoglossa! » ordered de Espadaña. « Take heart, Clarita, » said Doña Victorina, approaching; « we’ve come to cure you… I’m going to introduce you to our cousin.  » Linares was absorbed, contemplating those eloquent eyes that seemed to be searching for someone, and he did not hear Doña Victorina calling him. « Señor Linares, » said the priest, snapping him out of his ecstasy, « here comes Father Damaso.  » Indeed, Father Damaso came, pale and somewhat sad; upon leaving the bed, his first visit was to Maria Clara. He was no longer the Father Damaso of yesteryear, so robust and talkative; now he walked silently and somewhat hesitantly. Chapter 46. PROJECTS. Without caring for anyone, he went straight to the sick woman’s bedside and, taking her by the hand, said: « Mary! » he said with inexpressible tenderness, and tears sprang from his eyes. « Mary, my child, you will not die! » Maria opened her eyes and looked at him with a certain surprise. No one who knew the Franciscan suspected any tender feelings in him; under that rough and coarse appearance, no one believed that a heart existed. Father Dámaso could stand it no longer and left the young woman, weeping like a child. He went to the ground to give free rein to his grief, under the favorite vines of María Clara’s balcony. « How he loves his goddaughter! » everyone thought. Brother Salví watched him, motionless and silent, lightly biting his lip. Somewhat calmed, Doña Victorina introduced him to young Linares, who approached him respectfully. Brother Dámaso looked at him in silence, from head to toe, took the letter that the other handed him, and read it without seeming to understand it, for he asked: « And who are you?  » « Alfonso Linares, your brother-in-law’s godson… » the young man stammered. Father Dámaso leaned back, examined the young man again , and, brightening his expression, stood up. « So you’re Carlicos’s godson! » she exclaimed, embracing him. « Come , let me embrace you… I received a letter from him a few days ago… so it’s you! I didn’t know you… you can see, you hadn’t even been born when I left the country; I didn’t know you!  » And Father Dámaso held the young man in his robust arms , turning red, whether from shame or suffocation, who knows. Father Dámaso seemed to have completely forgotten his pain. After the first moments of effusion had passed and the first questions about Carlicos and Pepa had been asked, Father Dámaso asked: « So, come on! What does Carlicos want me to do for you?  » « I think it says something in the letter… » Linares stammered again. « In the letter? Let’s see? It’s true! And he wants me to get you a job and a wife! Hmm! A job… a job, it’s easy; can you read and write?  » « I got my law degree from the Central University! » “Good heavens! So you’re a troublemaker? Well, you don’t have the face… you look like a madam, but so much the better! But to give you a woman… um! um! A woman… ” “Father, I’m in no hurry,” said Linares, confused. But Father Dámaso was pacing up and down the slope, murmuring: “A woman, a woman!” His face was no longer sad or happy; now it expressed the utmost seriousness and seemed to be thinking. Father Salví watched this whole scene from afar. “I didn’t think the whole thing would give me so much pain!” murmured Father Dámaso in a tearful voice; “but the lesser of two evils.” And raising his voice and approaching Linares, he said: “Come here, lad,” he said; “let’s go and speak to Santiago.” Linares turned pale and allowed himself to be dragged away by the priest, who was leaving. pensive. Then it was Father Salví’s turn to pace, pensive as always. A voice wishing him good morning brought him out of his monotonous pacing; he raised his head and met Lucas, who greeted him humbly. « What do you want? » the priest’s eyes asked. « Father, I am the brother of the man who died on the day of the feast! » Lucas answered tearfully. Father Salví stepped back. « So what? » he murmured in an imperceptible voice. Lucas struggled to cry and wiped his eyes with his handkerchief. « Father, » he said, whimpering, « I have been to Don Crisóstomo’s house to demand compensation… » At first, he kicked me, saying that he did not want to pay anything, since he had been in danger of dying because of my dear and unfortunate brother. Yesterday I returned to speak to him, but he had already left for Manila, leaving me, as if out of charity, five hundred pesos and charging me never to return. Ah, Father, five hundred pesos for my poor brother, five hundred pesos! Ah, Father!… The priest listened to him at first with surprise and attention, and slowly a smile of such contempt and sarcasm appeared on his lips at the sight of this farce that, had Lucas seen it, he would have run away at full speed. « And what do you want now? » he asked, turning his back on him. « Oh, Father! Tell me, for the love of God, what I should do: the father has always given good advice.  » « Who told you that? You’re not from here…  » « The father is known throughout the province! » Father Salví approached him with irritated eyes and, pointing toward the street, said to the frightened Lucas: « Go home and thank Don Crisóstomo for not sending you to jail! Get out of here! » Lucas forgot his charade and muttered: « Well, I thought…  » « Get out of here! » Father Salví shouted nervously. « I’d like to see Father Dámaso…  » « Father Dámaso has something to do… get out of here! » the priest commanded again imperiously. Lucas went down the stairs muttering: « This one’s another one… if he doesn’t pay well!… Whoever pays better… » At the priest’s calls, everyone had come running, even Father Dámaso, Captain Tiago, and Linares. « An insolent vagabond who comes to beg for alms and doesn’t want to work! » said Father Salví, grabbing his hat and cane and heading for the convent. Chapter 47. Examination of Consciousness. Long days and sad nights have been spent at the bedside. María Clara had relapsed moments after confessing, and during her delirium she uttered nothing but the name of her mother, whom she had never met. But her friends, her father, and her aunt kept watch; masses and alms were sent to all the miraculous images; Captain Tiago promised to give a golden cane to the Virgin of Antipolo, and at last the fever began to descend slowly and regularly. Doctor Espadaña is amazed by the virtues of the marshmallow syrup and the lichen decoction, prescriptions he has not changed. Doña Victorina is so pleased with her husband that one day when he stepped on the train of her gown, she did not apply her penal code by removing his dentures, but contented herself with saying: « If you don’t become lame, you’ll step on my corset! » And she didn’t use it! One afternoon, while Sinang and Victoria were visiting their friend, the priest, Captain Tiago, and Doña Victoria’s family were talking over lunch in the dining room. « Well, I’m very sorry, » the doctor was saying; « Father Damaso will be very sorry too.  » « And where do you say they’re transferring him to? » Linares asked the priest. « To the province of Tayabas! » he replied negligently. « María will also be very sorry when she finds out, » Captain Tiago said; « she loves him like a father. » Fray Salví looked at him askance. « I think, Father, » Captain Tiago continued, « that this whole illness is due to the upset she had on the day of the fiesta.  » « I am of the same opinion, and you did well not to allow the Mr. Ibarra to speak to her; she would have gotten worse. « And if it weren’t for us, » interrupted Doña Victorina, « Clarita would already be in heaven singing praises to God.  » « Amen, Jesus! » Captain Tiago thought he should say. « Fortunately, my husband didn’t have a more serious patient, because you would have had to call someone else, and everyone here is ignorant; my husband…  » « I believe and continue in what I have said, » interrupted the priest in turn; « the confession that María Clara made has provoked that favorable crisis that has saved her life. A clear conscience is worth more than many medicines, and mind you, I do not deny the power of science, especially that of surgery! But a clear conscience… Read the pious books and you will see how many cures are brought about by just a good confession! » “Excuse me,” objects Doña Victorina, stung; “this thing about the power of confession… cure the lieutenant’s wife with a confession! ” “A wound, madam, is not an illness that conscience can influence!” replies Father Salví sternly; “however, a good confession would protect her from receiving blows like the ones she received this morning in the future. ” “She deserves it!” continues Doña Victorina, as if she hadn’t heard what Father Salví had said. “That woman is very insolent! In church, she does nothing but stare at me, you can see! She’s just a nobody; on Sunday I was going to ask her if she had monkeys on her face, but who gets dirty talking to people who are not of rank?” For his part, the priest, as if he hadn’t heard all this harangue, continued: “Believe me, Don Santiago; to completely cure your daughter, it’s necessary that she make communion tomorrow.” « I’ll bring her the viaticum… I don’t think she’ll have anything to confess, however… if she wants to reconcile herself tonight… » « I don’t know, » added Doña Victorina immediately, taking advantage of a pause, « I don’t understand how there can be men capable of marrying such shambles like that woman. You can see where she comes from from afar; it’s obvious she’s dying of envy; you can see it! What does an ensign gain? » « So, Don Santiago, tell your cousin to warn the sick woman of communion tomorrow; I’ll come tonight to absolve her of her sins. » And seeing that Aunt Isabel was leaving, he said to her in Tagalog: « Prepare your niece for confession tonight; tomorrow I’ll bring her the viaticum; that way she’ll recover more quickly.  » « But, Father, » Linares dared to object timidly, « lest she think she’s in danger of death. » « Don’t worry! » she replied without looking at him. « I know what I’m doing: I’ve already attended to many sick people. Besides, she’ll decide whether or not she wants to take Holy Communion, and you’ll see how she says yes to everything. » For now, Captain Tiago had to say yes to everything. Aunt Isabel entered the sick woman’s bedroom. María Clara was still in bed, pale, very pale; her two friends were at her side . « Take one more grain, » Sinang said in a low voice, presenting her with a white granule that she took from a small glass tube. « He says that when you feel a noise or a ringing in your ears, you should stop taking the medicine.  » « Hasn’t he written to you again? » the sick woman asked in a low voice. « No, he must be very busy!  » « Didn’t he tell me anything? » « He says no more than that he is going to try to get the archbishop to absolve him from the excommunication so that… » The conversation is suspended because the aunt is coming. « The father wants you to get ready for confession, daughter, » she says; « leave her so she can do her examination of conscience.  » « But she didn’t confess a week ago! » Sinang protests. « I ‘m not sick and I don’t sin that often.  » « Abba! Don’t you know what the priest says? The just man sins seven times a day. Come on, do you want me to bring you the Anchor, the Bouquet, or the Straight Path to Heaven? » Maria Clara didn’t reply. « Come on, don’t tire yourself, » the good aunt adds to console her.  » I will read the examination of conscience to you myself, and you will only remember your sins.  » « Write to him not to think about me anymore! » Maria Clara murmured in her ear. Sinang’s words as she took leave of her. « How so? » But her aunt entered, and Sinang had to walk away, unable to understand what her friend had said. The good aunt drew a chair closer to the light, placed her glasses on the end of her nose, and, opening a small book, said: « Pay close attention, my child. I’m going to begin with the commandments of the law of God. I’ll go slowly so you can meditate. If you haven’t heard me correctly, tell me so I can repeat them; you know that for your own good I never tire.  » She began to read, in a monotonous, nasal voice, her considerations about sinful cases. At the end of each paragraph, she placed a long pause to give the young woman time to remember her sins and repent. Maria Clara gazed vaguely into space. Having finished the first commandment, to love God above all things, Aunt Isabel observed her over her glasses and was satisfied with her thoughtful and sad air. She coughs piously, and after a long pause, begins the second commandment. The good old woman reads with unction, and having concluded her considerations, looks again at her niece, who slowly turns her head away. « Bah! » said Aunt Isabel to herself; « in this matter of swearing to her holy name, the poor thing will have nothing to do with it. Let us pass to the third. » And the third commandment was broken down and commented on, and after having read all the cases in which it is sinned against, she looks again toward the bed; but now the aunt raises her spectacles and rubs her eyes: she has seen her niece raise her handkerchief to her face as if to dry tears. « Hmm! » she says, « ahem! » The poor thing fell asleep during the sermon. And replacing her spectacles on the end of her nose, she said to herself: « Let us see if, just as she has not sanctified the holidays, she has not honored father and mother. » And she read the fourth commandment in an even slower and more nasal voice, believing she was thereby giving greater solemnity to the act, as she had seen many friars do. Aunt Isabel had never heard a Quaker preach, or she would have begun to tremble as well. The young woman, meanwhile, several times puts her handkerchief to her eyes, and her breathing becomes more perceptible. « What a good soul! » the old woman thinks to herself; « she who is so obedient and submissive to everyone! I have had more sins, and I have never been able to truly weep. » And she began the fifth commandment with greater pauses and an even more perfect nasality, if possible, with such enthusiasm that she did not hear her niece’s stifled sobs. Only during a pause she made, after the considerations about armed homicide, did she perceive the groans of the sinner. Then her tone changed from sublime. She read the remainder of the commandment with an accent she tried to make threatening, and seeing that her niece was still weeping: « Weep, child, weep! » she said, approaching the bedside. « The more you weep, the sooner God will forgive you. Respect the sorrow of contrition rather than that of attrition. Weep, child, weep! I don’t know how much joy it gives me to see you weep! Beat your breast too, but not too hard, for you are still ill. » But, as if sorrow needed mystery and solitude to grow, Maria Clara, seeing herself surprised, gradually ceased sighing and dried her eyes without saying a word or replying to her aunt. She continued reading, but, as the weeping of her audience had ceased, she lost her enthusiasm. The last commandments made her sleepy and made her yawn, much to the detriment of the monotonous nasality that was thus interrupted. « If I didn’t see it, I wouldn’t believe it! » the good old woman thought afterwards; « this girl sins like a soldier compared to the first five, and from the sixth to the tenth not a single venial sin, unlike us! How the world is going these days! » And she lit a large candle for the Virgin of Antipolo and two smaller ones for Our Lady of the Rosary and Our Lady of the Pillar, taking care to set aside and place in a corner an ivory crucifix, to make him understand that the candles had not been lit for him . The Virgin of Delaroche also had no part: she is a an unknown foreigner, and Aunt Isabel had not heard of any of her miracles until now. We do not know what happened during that night’s confession; we respect such secrets. The confession was long, and the aunt, who watched her niece from a distance, noticed that the priest, instead of listening to the sick woman’s words, had on the contrary his face turned towards her, and seemed to want to read or divine the thoughts of the young woman’s beautiful eyes. Pale and with pursed lips, Father Salví left the room. Seeing his dark forehead covered with sweat, one would have thought that he was the one who had confessed and did not deserve absolution. « Jesus, Mary, and Joseph! » said the aunt, crossing herself to dispel an evil thought; « who understands young women now? » Chapter 48. THE PERSECUTED. Benefiting from the faint light diffused by the moon through the thick branches of the trees, a man wanders through the forest with a slow, measured step. From time to time, as if to orient himself, he whistles a particular melody, which is usually answered by another distant one, intoning the same tune. The man listens attentively, then continues his way in the direction of the distant sound. Finally, through the thousand difficulties that a virgin forest presents at night, he reaches a small clearing bathed in the first quarter of the moon. Towering rocks, crowned with trees, rise around him , forming a sort of ruined amphitheater; freshly cut trees and charred trunks fill the middle, mingling with enormous boulders, which nature partially covers with its blanket of green foliage. The stranger had barely arrived when another figure, suddenly emerging from behind a large rock, advances and, drawing a revolver: « Who are you? » he asks in Tagalog in an imperious voice, cocking the trigger of his weapon. « Is old Pablo among you? » the first asked in a calm voice, without answering the question or being intimidated. « Are you talking about the captain? Yes, he is.  » « Tell him then that Elias is looking for him here, » said the man who was none other than the mysterious pilot. « Is it you, Elias? » the stranger asked with a certain respect, approaching, still pointing his revolver at him. « Then… come.  » Elias followed him. They entered a kind of cavern that sank into the depths of the earth. The guide, who knew the way, warned the pilot when he should descend, bend down, or crawl; however, they didn’t take long and arrived at a sort of room, miserably lit by pitch torches, occupied by twelve or fifteen armed individuals, with sinister faces and dirty clothes, some sitting, others lying down, barely speaking to each other. Leaning his elbows on a stone, which served as a table, and meditatively gazing into the light that diffused so little clarity for so much smoke, was an old man with a sad countenance, his head wrapped in a bloody bandage. If we did not know that this was a cavern of tulisanes, we would say, reading the despair on the old man’s face, that it was the tower of Hunger on the eve of Ugolino’s devouring of his children. At the arrival of Elias and his guide, the men half sat up, but at a signal from the latter they calmed down, contenting themselves with examining the pilot, who was completely unarmed. The old man slowly turned his head and found himself staring at him, uncovered, full of sadness and interest. « Is that you? » asked the old man, whose gaze, upon recognizing the young man, brightened somewhat. « What state do I see you in! » Elias murmured in an undertone, shaking his head. The old man lowered his head in silence, signaled to the men, who stood up and walked away, not without first gauging the pilot’s height and muscles. « Yes! » said the old man to Elias when they were alone;  » six months ago, when I gave you shelter in my house, it was I who felt sorry for you. » of you; now fortunes have changed, and it is you who pity me. But sit down, and tell me how you came to be here.  » « About two weeks ago I heard of your misfortune, » the young man replied slowly in a low voice, looking towards the light; « I set out at once and have been searching for you from mountain to mountain; I have traveled through almost two provinces. To avoid shedding innocent blood, I had to flee; my enemies were afraid to come forward and only put before me a few unfortunates who have done me no harm. » After a short pause, which Elias used to read the thoughts in the old man’s gloomy countenance, he replied: « I have come to propose something to you. Having searched in vain for some remnant of the family that caused the misfortune of mine, I have decided to leave the province where I live, to emigrate north and live among the infidel or independent tribes. Do you want to leave the life you are beginning and come with me? » I will be your son, since you have lost those you had, and I, having no family, will have a father in you. The old man shook his head and said: “At my age, when one makes a desperate resolution, it is because there is no other. A man who, like myself, has spent his youth and his mature age working for his own future and that of his children; a man who has been submissive to all the wishes of his superiors, who has conscientiously fulfilled heavy duties, suffered everything to live in peace and as much tranquility as possible; when this man, whose blood has cooled with time, renounces his entire past and his entire future on the very brink of the grave, it is because he has maturely judged that peace neither exists nor is the supreme good. Why live miserable days in a foreign land? I had two sons, a daughter, a home, a fortune; I enjoyed consideration and esteem; Now I am like a tree stripped of its branches, a vagrant fugitive, hunted like a wild beast in the forest, and all for what? Because a man has dishonored my daughter, because the brothers called that man to account for the infamy, and because that man is placed above all others with the title of minister of God. Yet I, father, I, dishonored in my old age, have forgiven the injury, indulgent of the passions of youth and the weaknesses of the flesh, and in the face of irreparable evil, what should I do but keep silent and save what remains to me? But the criminal was afraid of a more or less imminent revenge, and sought the ruin of my children. Do you know what he did? No? Don’t you know that a robbery was faked in the convent, and one of my sons was among the accused? The other could not be included because he was absent. Do you know the tortures to which they were subjected? You know them because they are the same as every village! I, I saw my son hanging by his hair, I heard his screams, I heard him calling me, and I, a coward accustomed to peace, didn’t have the courage to kill or be killed! Do you know that the theft was never proven, that the slander was seen through, and that as punishment the priest was transferred to another village, and my son died as a result of the torture? The other one, the one I had left, was not a coward like his father, and the executioner, fearing that he would not avenge his brother’s death, under the pretext of not having a resident identity card, which he had momentarily forgotten, was arrested by the Civil Guard, mistreated, irritated, and provoked by insults until he was forced to commit suicide. And I, I have survived after so much shame, but if I haven’t had the courage of a father to defend my children, let me have a heart for revenge, and I will take revenge! The malcontents are gathering under my command, my enemies are increasing my camp, and the day I consider myself strong, I will descend to the plain and extinguish in the fire my vengeance and my very existence! And that day will come or there will be no God! [137] And the old man rose agitated, and with flashing eyes and a hollow voice, he added, tearing at his long hair: « Curse, curse on me that I have stayed the avenging hand of my children; I have murdered them! I would have let the guilty one Had I died, I would have believed less in the justice of God and of men, and now I would have my children, fugitives perhaps, but I would have them, and they would not have died amidst torture! I was not born to be a father, that is why I do not have them! A curse upon me that I have not learned with my years to understand the environment in which I lived! But in fire and blood, and in my own death, I will know how to avenge you! The unfortunate father, in the paroxysm of his grief, had torn off the bandage, opening a wound on his forehead from which drops of blood fell. « I respect your pain, » replied Elijah, « and I understand your revenge. I too am like you, and yet, for fear of wounding an innocent person, I prefer to forget my misfortunes.  » « You can forget because you are young and because you have lost no child, no last hope! But I assure you, I will not wound any innocent person. Do you see this wound? » In order not to kill a poor policeman doing his duty, I let it happen. « But see, » said Elias after a moment of silence, « see what a dreadful bonfire you are going to plunge our unfortunate people into. If
you take revenge by your own hands, your enemies will take terrible reprisals, not against you, not against those who are armed, but against the people who are usually the accused, according to custom, and then how much injustice will happen! » « Let the people learn to defend themselves, let each one defend himself!  » « You know that is impossible! Sir, I knew you in another time when you were happy, then you gave me wise advice; will you allow me? » The old man crossed his arms and seemed to listen. « Sir, » continued Elias, weighing his words carefully, « I have had the good fortune to have been able to render a service to a rich, kind -hearted, noble young man who loves the good of his country. They say this young man has friends in Madrid; I don’t know, but I can assure you that he is a friend of the Captain General. What do you say if we make him the bearer of the people’s grievances, if we interest him in the cause of the unfortunate?  » The old man shook his head. « You say he’s rich? The rich think only of increasing their wealth; pride and pomp blind them, and since they are generally well-off, especially when they have powerful friends, none of them is bothered by the unfortunate. I know everything because I was rich!  » « But the man I’m speaking of is not like the others; he is a son who has been insulted in his father’s memory; he is a young man who, since he will soon have a family, thinks of the future, a good future for his children. » « Then he is a man who is going to be happy; our cause is not that of happy men.  » « But it is that of men of heart!  » « So be it! » replied the old man, sitting down. « Suppose he consents to carry our voice even to the Captain-General, suppose he finds deputies at court who will plead our case, do you think justice will be done?  » « Let us try it before taking a bloody measure, » replied Elias. « You must be surprised that I, another wretch, young and robust, should propose peaceful measures to you, old and weak; but the fact is that I have seen as much misery caused by ourselves as by tyrants: it is the unarmed who pays.  » « And if we achieve nothing?  » « Something will be achieved, believe me; not all who govern are unjust. » And if we achieve nothing, if they ignore our voices, if man has become deaf to the cries of pain of his fellow men, then I will be at your command! The old man, filled with enthusiasm, embraced Elias. « I accept your proposal, Elias; I know that you keep your word. You will come to me and I will help you avenge your ancestors, you will help me avenge my children, my children who were like you!  » « In the meantime, sir, you will avoid all violent measures. »  » You will express the people’s grievances; you already know them. When will I know the answer?  » « In four days, send me a man to the beach at San Diego, and I will tell him what the person I hope in gives me… If he accepts, justice will be done for us, and if not, I will be the first to fall in the fight. » that we will undertake. « Elias will not die, Elias will be the leader, when Captain Pablo falls satisfied in his revenge, » said the old man. And he himself accompanied the young man out of the cave. Chapter 49. THE COCKPIT To sanctify Sunday afternoon, people generally go to the cockpit in the Philippines, as to the bullfights in Spain. Cockfighting, a passion introduced into the country and exploited a century ago, is one of the vices of the people, more transcendental than opium among the Chinese people; there the poor go to risk what they have, eager to earn money without working; there the rich go to amuse themselves, using the money left over from their feasts and grace masses; but the fortune they gamble is theirs; the rooster is trained with great care, perhaps more carefully than the son, successor to the father in the cockpit, and this excuses the players. Since the government permits it, and almost recommends it, mandating that the spectacle only be held in public squares on holidays (so that everyone can see it and set an example?), after high mass until dark (eight hours), we will attend this game to find some acquaintances. The San Diego cockpit is no different from the others found in other towns except in some features. It consists of three compartments: the first, or the entrance, is a large rectangle about twenty meters long by fourteen meters wide; on one side is a door, usually guarded by a woman, who is in charge of collecting the sa pintû, or entrance fee. Of this contribution, which each person contributes there, the government receives a portion, some hundreds of thousands of pesos a year. They say that with this money, with which vice pays for its freedom, magnificent schools are built, bridges and roads constructed, prizes are instituted to promote agriculture and commerce… Blessed be the vice that produces such good results! In this first enclosure are the sellers of buyo, cigars, sweets and groceries, etc.; there swarm the boys who accompany their parents or uncles, who carefully initiate them into the secrets of life. This enclosure communicates with another of slightly larger proportions, a kind of foyer where the public gathers before the release [138]. There are most of the cocks, tied by a rope to the ground by means of a nail made of bone or a palm tree; there are the gamblers, the amateurs, the expert knife tyer; There, contracts are made, people meditate, borrow, curse, swear, and laugh aloud. One strokes his rooster, running his hand over its bright plumage; another examines and counts the scales on its legs; the deeds of heroes are recounted; there you will see many, with sullen faces, carrying a plucked carcass by the foot: the animal that was their favorite for months, pampered, cared for day and night, and in which they placed flattering hopes, is now nothing more than a corpse and is going to be sold for a peseta, to be cooked with ginger and eaten that same night: sic transit gloria mundi! The loser returns home where his restless wife and ragged children await him, without his capital and without the rooster. From all that golden dream, from all those cares for months, from dawn to sunset, from all those toils and labors, a peseta results, the ashes left by so much smoke. In this foyer , the least intelligent argue; the most frivolous conscientiously examines the matter, weighs, contemplates, stretches his wings, feels the muscles of those animals. Some are very well dressed, followed and surrounded by supporters of their cocks; others, dirty, with the seal of vice marked on their gaunt faces, anxiously follow the movements of the rich and pay attention to the bets, because the purse can be emptied, but passion cannot be satiated: there is no face there that is not animated; there is no indolent Filipino, the apathetic, the silent: everything is movement, passion, eagerness; one would say they have that thirst that fuels the mud water. From this place, one passes to the arena called the « ruera. » The floor, fenced with reeds, is usually higher than the previous two. At the top, almost touching the ceiling, there are stands for the spectators or players, which are essentially the same thing. During the fight, these stands are filled with men and boys who shout, yell, sweat, argue, and swear; fortunately, almost no women make it up there. The prominent men, the rich, the famous gamblers, the contractor, and the judge are on the « ruera. » On the perfectly packed ground, the animals fight, and from there, fate distributes laughter or tears, feasts or hunger to the families. At the time we enter, we already see the gobernadorcillo, Captain Pablo, Captain Basilio, and Lucas, the man with the scar on his face, who so mourned the death of his brother. Captain Basilio approaches a villager and asks: « Do you know what rooster Captain Tiago is bringing? » « I don’t know, sir; two arrived this morning, one of them is the lásak that won the consul’s talisain. » « Do you think my búlik [139] can fight him?  » « I certainly do! I’ll put my house and my shirt on it! » At that moment Captain Tiago arrived. He was dressed like the great gamblers, a Cantón linen shirt, wool trousers, and a jipijapa hat. Behind him came two servants, carrying the lásak and a white rooster of colossal dimensions. « Sinang told me that María is getting better and better! » said Captain Basilio. « Did you lose last night?  » « A little; I know you won… I’ll see if I can get even.  » « Do you want to play the lásak? » asked Captain Basilio , looking at the rooster and asking the servant. « Depends, if there’s a bet. » « How much are you betting? » « Less than two, I won’t play it.  » « Have you seen my búlik? » Captain Basilio asks, and calls over a man carrying a small rooster. Captain Tiago examines it, and after weighing it and analyzing the scales, returns it. « How much are you betting? » he asks. « What you’re betting. » « Two and five hundred?  » « Three?  » « Three!  » « Next time!  » The group of curious players spreads the news that two famous roosters will be fighting; both had their history and their fame earned. Everyone wants to see, to examine the two celebrities; opinions are expressed, prophesies are made. Meanwhile, voices grow louder, confusion increases, the circle is invaded, the stands are assaulted. The releasers bring two roosters into the arena , one white and one red, already armed, but their knives are still sheathed. Shouts of « Target! » « Target! » are heard; some voices shout « Target! » The white one was the so-called one, and the red one was the left-behind one—that is, the favorite and the outsider (discarded). Among the crowd circulate Civil Guards; they don’t wear the uniform of the worthy force, but they’re not in civilian clothes either. Guingon trousers with a red stripe, a shirt stained with the blue from the faded blouse, a garrison cap—this is the disguise in harmony with their behavior: they bet and keep watch, disturb and talk about keeping the peace. While shouting, they hold out their hands, waving coins and making them jingle; while they search their pockets for the last coin or, failing that, try to pledge their word, promising to sell the carabao, the next harvest, etc., two young men, apparently brothers, follow the gamblers with envious eyes. They come closer, murmur timid words that no one hears, grow increasingly gloomy, and look at each other with disgust and spite. Lucas watches them surreptitiously, smiles evilly, jingles silver pesos, passes near the two brothers, and looks toward the wheel, shouting: « I’ll pay fifty, fifty against twenty for the white one!  » The two brothers exchange a look. « I told you, » murmurs the elder, « not to bet all the money; if you had obeyed me, we’d have it for the red one now! » The younger timidly approaches Lucas and touches his arm. « Is that you? » he exclaims, turning around and feigning surprise; « Do you accept? » Your brother, my proposition, or have you come to bet? How do you expect us to bet, since we’ve lost everything? Then you accept? He doesn’t want to! If you could lend us something, since you say you know us… Lucas scratched his head, straightened his shirt, and replied: Yes, I know you; you are Tarsilo and Bruno, young and strong. I know that your brave father died as a result of the hundred lashes a day that those soldiers gave him; I know that you don’t think of avenging him… Don’t interfere in our story, interrupted Tarsilo, the eldest; it brings disgrace. If we didn’t have a sister, we would have been hanged long ago! Hanged? They only hang cowards, those who have neither money nor protection. And in any case, the mountain is close at hand. One hundred against twenty, I’m going for it! shouted one as he passed. « Lend us four pesos… three… two, » begged the youngest;  » then we’ll pay you back double; the freeing is about to begin.  » Lucas scratched his head again. « Psst! This money isn’t mine, Don Crisóstomo gave it to me for those who want to serve him. But I see you’re not like your father; he was certainly brave; whoever isn’t, let him not seek amusement. » And he moved away from them, though not far. « Let’s accept it now, what does it matter? » said Bruno. « It’s the same whether we die by hanging or by shooting: us poor people are good for nothing else.  » « You’re right, but think of our sister. » Meanwhile, the ring has cleared; the fight is about to begin. The voices begin to fall silent, and the two freemen and the expert knife-tied man remain in the middle. At a signal from the sentencer, he draws his steel, and the fine blades gleam, threatening and shining. The two brothers approach the fence, sad and silent, and watch, leaning their foreheads against the cane. A man approaches and whispers in their ear: « Stop! [140] One hundred against ten; I’m for the white one! » Tarsilo looks at him with a stunned air. Bruno nudges him, to which he responds with a grunt. The releasers hold the cocks with masterful delicacy, taking care not to hurt themselves. A solemn silence reigns: one would think that those present, except for the two releasers, were horrible wax dolls. They bring one cock close to the other, holding the head of one so that when it is pecked it will become irritated, and vice versa: in every duel there must be equality, the same between Parisian Gauls as between Filipino cocks. Then they are brought face to face, brought close together, so that the poor little creatures know who has plucked one of their feathers and with whom they must fight. The feathers on their necks ruffle, they stare at each other fixedly, and flashes of anger escape from their round eyes. Then the moment has arrived: they are placed on the ground at a distance and the field is clear for them. They advance slowly. Their footsteps can be heard on the hard ground; no one speaks, no one breathes. Lowering and raising their heads as if measuring each other with a glance, the two roosters emit sounds, perhaps of threat and contempt. They have spotted the shining leaf, which casts cold, blue reflections; danger animates them, and they head toward each other resolutely, but a step away they stop, and with their gaze fixed, they lower their heads and ruffle their feathers again. At that moment their little brains are bathed in blood, lightning flashes, and with their natural courage they rush impetuously at each other. They clash beak against beak, chest against chest, steel against steel, and wing against wing: the blows have been skillfully parried, and only a few feathers have fallen. They measure each other again; suddenly the white one flies, soars up brandishing the deadly knife, but the red one has bent his legs, lowered his head, and the white one has only lashed the air; but upon touching the ground, avoiding being hit on his back, he quickly turns and faces them. The red one attacks him furiously, but he defends himself calmly: not in vain is he the public’s favorite. Everyone follows the vicissitudes of the combat, trembling and anxious, uttering the occasional involuntary cry. The ground is covered with red and white feathers, dyed in blood: but the duel is not at first blood; The Filipino, following the laws here given by the government, wants it to be a deathmatch or a match for whoever flees first. Blood is already dripping on the ground, blows are falling in abundance, but victory remains undecided. Finally, attempting a supreme effort, the white man throws himself forward to deliver the final blow, plunges his knife into the red man’s wing, and it catches his bones. But the white man has been wounded in the chest, and both, drained of blood, exhausted, panting, clinging to each other, remain motionless until the white man falls, spurts blood from his beak, kicks, and is dying. The red man, holding onto the wing, remains at his side, slowly bends his legs, and slowly closes his eyes. Then the judge, in accordance with government regulations, declares the red man the winner; a loud voice greets the sentence, a shout that can be heard throughout the town, prolonged, uniform, and lasting for some time. Anyone who hears it from afar understands then that the one who has won is the one left behind; otherwise, the joy would be shorter. This is what happens among nations: a small one that manages to achieve a victory over a great one sings of it and recounts it for ever and ever. « You see? » Bruno said spitefully to his brother, « if you had believed me, we would have had a hundred pesos today; thanks to you, we’re broke.  » Társilo didn’t reply, but looked around with half-closed eyes, as if searching for someone. « He’s talking to Pedro over there, » Bruno added; « he’s giving him money, so much money! » In fact, Lucas was counting silver coins on Sisa’s husband’s hand . They exchange a few more words in secret and part, apparently satisfied. « Pedro must have been hired: that one, that one is decisive! » Bruno sighs. Társilo remains somber and thoughtful; he wipes the sweat running down his forehead with his shirtsleeve . « Brother, » says Bruno, « I’ll go if you don’t make up your mind; the law [141] continues, the lásak must win, and we can’t lose such a good opportunity. I want to bet on the next throw; what does it matter? That way we’ll avenge the father.  » « Wait! » says Társilo, looking him straight in the eyes: both were pale; « I’m going with you, you’re right: we’ll avenge the father. » He stops, however, and wipes his sweat again. « What are you standing on? » asks Bruno impatiently. « Do you know what throw is next? Is it worth it?  » « No, no! Haven’t you heard? Captain Basilio’s bulik against Captain Tiago’s lásak; according to the law of the game, the lásak must win.  » « Ah, the lásak! I’d bet too… but let’s be sure first. » Bruno makes an impatient gesture, but follows his brother, who examines the rooster closely, analyzes him, meditates, reflects, asks a few questions. The unfortunate man hesitates. Bruno is nervous and glares at him angrily. « But don’t you see that wide scale he has there, near the spur? Don’t you see those legs? What more do you want? Look at those legs, spread those wings! And this split scale on top of this wide one, and this double one?  » Tarsilo doesn’t hear him; he continues examining the animal: the sound of gold and silver reaches his ears. « Now let’s look at the bulik, » he says in a stifled voice. Bruno stamps his foot, gnashes his teeth, but obeys his brother. They approach another group. There they arm the rooster, select knives, the rover prepares red silk, waxes it, and rubs it several times. Társilo surrounds the animal with a somberly impassive gaze: it seemed he didn’t see the rooster, but something else in the future. He runs his hand over his forehead. « Are you ready? » he asks his brother in a muffled voice. « Me? From before; without needing to see them!  » « It’s just that… our poor sister…  » « Abá! Didn’t they tell you that the leader is Don Crisóstomo? Haven’t you seen him walking with the Captain General? What danger are we in? » « What if we die?  » « What does it matter? Our father was beaten to death.  » « You’re right! » Both brothers search for Lucas among the groups. As soon as they spot him, Társilo stops. « No! Let’s get out of here, we’ll get lost! » he exclaims. –Go if you want, I’ll accept! –Bruno! Unfortunately, a man approaches them and says: –Are you betting? I’m for the bulik. The two brothers don’t answer. –Profit! –How much?–asks Bruno. The man began to count his four-peso coins: Bruno looked at him breathlessly. –I have two hundred; fifty against forty! –No!–says Bruno resolutely;–put… –Good; fifty against thirty! –Double up if you want! –Good! The bullik belongs to my boss and I just won; one hundred against sixty. –Deal! Wait for me to get some money out. –But I’ll be the custodian,–says the other, not trusting Bruno’s wiles much. –It’s all the same to me!–responds the latter, who trusts in his fists. And turning to his brother, he says: –If you stay, I’ll leave. Társilo thought for a moment: he loved his brother and the game. He couldn’t leave him alone, and he murmured, « So be it! » They approached Lucas; he saw them coming and smiled. « Mama! » said Társilo. « What’s up?  » « How much are you giving? » they both asked. « I’ve already said: if you take charge of finding others to attack the barracks, I’ll give you each thirty pesos, and ten to each companion. If all goes well, each of you will receive one hundred, and you two will receive double: Don Crisóstomo is rich.  » « Accepted! » exclaimed Bruno; « here comes the money.  » « I knew you were as brave as your father! Come, so those who killed him don’t hear us! » said Lucas, pointing to the Civil Guards. And taking them to a corner, he said while counting their coins: « Don Crisóstomo will arrive tomorrow and he’s bringing weapons; The day after tomorrow, at night, around eight o’clock, go to the cemetery and I will tell you his last wishes. You have time to find companions. They said goodbye. The two brothers seemed to have switched roles: Társilo was calm, Bruno restless. Chapter 50. THE TWO LADIES. While Captain Tiago played his lásak, Doña Victorina took a walk through the town, intending to see how the indolent indigenous people were tending their houses and fields. She had dressed as elegantly as she could, putting on all her ribbons and flowers over her silk gown, to impress the provincials and make them see how much distance lay between them and her sacred person. And, linking her arm with her lame husband, she strutted through the town streets, amidst the stupefaction and astonishment of the inhabitants. Cousin Linares had stayed at home. « What ugly houses those native people have! » began Doña Victorina, making a face. « I don’t know how they can live there: you have to be an indigenous person. And how rude and proud they are! They meet us and don’t take their hats off! Hit them on the hat like the priests and the lieutenants of the Civil Guard do, teach them civility.  » « And what if they hit me? » asked Doctor Espadaña. « That’s what you’re a man for!  » « But… but I’m lame! » Doña Victorina was getting into a bad mood: the streets were not paved, and the train of her gown was filling with dust. She also met many young women who, as they passed by her, lowered their eyes and did not admire, as they should, her luxurious dress. Sinang’s coachman, who was driving her and her cousin in an elegant 3 per cent [142], had the nerve to shout « tabi » at her. with such an imposing voice that she had to step aside and could only protest: « Look at that brute of a coachman! I’ll tell his master to educate his servants better.  » « Let’s go home! » she ordered her husband. He, fearing a storm, turned on his crutch obeying the command. They met the second lieutenant, greeted each other, and this increased Doña Victorina’s discontent : the soldier not only did not pay her any compliments on her dress, but almost examined it mockingly. « You shouldn’t have shaken hands with a simple second lieutenant, » she said to her husband as he left; he barely touched his helmet and you took off yours. hat; you don’t know how to keep your position! « He’s the chief here!  » « And what do we care? Are we indigenous people?  » « You’re right! » he replied, not wanting to argue. They passed in front of the soldier’s house. Doña Consolación was at the window, as usual, dressed in flannel and smoking her cigar. Since the house was low, they looked at each other, and Doña Victorina saw her clearly: the Muse of the Civil Guard calmly examined her from head to toe, and then, sticking her lower lip out, she spat, turning her face away. This exhausted Doña Victorina’s patience, and leaving her husband without support, she stood at attention in front of the lieutenant, trembling with anger and unable to speak. Doña Consolación slowly turned her head, calmly examined her again, and spat again, but with greater disdain. « What’s the matter with you, doña? » she asked. “Can you tell me, madam, why are you looking at me like that? Are you envious?” Doña Victorina finally manages to speak. “I am envious, and of you?” says Medusa sarcastically; “Yes! I envy your curls! ” “Come on, woman!” says the doctor; “don’t pay any attention to her! ” “Let me teach this shameless vulgar woman a lesson!” replies the woman, giving her husband a shove so that he almost kisses the ground, and turning to Doña Consolación. “Look who you’re dealing with!” she says; “don’t think I’m a provincial or a soldier’s mistress! Second lieutenants don’t enter my house in Manila ; they wait at the door. ” “Hello, Your Excellency, Mrs. Puput! Second lieutenants won’t enter, but invalids like that one will, ha! ha! ha!” If it hadn’t been for her blush, Doña Victorina would have been seen blushing. She wanted to attack her enemy, but the sentry stopped her. Meanwhile, the street was filling with curious onlookers. « Listen! I demean myself by talking to you; people of rank… Will you wash my clothes? I’ll pay you well! Do you think I don’t know you were a laundress? » Doña Consolacion stiffened furiously; the mention of washing hurt her. « Do you think we don’t know who you are and what kind of people you’re bringing? Gosh! My husband already told me! Madam, I at least have only belonged to one, but what about you? You’d have to die of hunger to carry the surplus, everyone’s rags. » The shot hit Doña Victorina in the head; she rolled up her sleeves, made fists, and, gritting her teeth, began to say: « Get down, you filthy old woman, I’ll smash that filthy mouth of yours! » « Mistress of a battalion, a whore by birth! » Medusa quickly disappeared from the window, and was soon seen running down, brandishing her husband’s whip. Don Tiburcio intervened supplicantly, but they would have come to blows if the second lieutenant had not arrived. « But ladies… Don Tiburcio!  » « Educate your wife better, buy her better clothes, and if you have no money, rob the people, that’s what you have soldiers for! » cried Doña Victorina. « Here I am, madam! Why don’t Your Excellency smash my mouth? You have nothing but your tongue and saliva, Your Excellencies!  » « Madam! » said the second lieutenant, furious; « be thankful I remember you’re a woman, otherwise I’d have kicked you to bits with all your curls and ribbons!  » « Sir… second lieutenant! » « Come on, quack! You’re not wearing any trousers, Juan Lanas! » A row broke out with words and gestures, shouts, insults, and abuse; they unleashed all the filth they had hidden in their coffers, and since four of them were talking at once and saying so many things that discredit certain classes, while bringing out many truths, we renounce writing down what they said here. The curious, although they didn’t understand everything they said, were quite amused and hoped they would come to blows. Unfortunately, the priest came and made peace. « Gentlemen, ladies! What a shame! Sir Ensign!  » « What are you getting into here, you hypocrite, Carlist?  » « Don Tiburcio, take your wife away! Madam, restrain yourself. » his tongue! —Tell that to those poor thieves! Little by little he exhausted his dictionary of epithets, finished the account of the shameless acts of each couple and, threatening and insulting each other, they gradually separated. Fray Salví went from one place to another, livening up the spectacle; if only our friend, the correspondent, had been present!…. —Today we’re going to Manila and presenting ourselves to the Captain General! —Doña Victorina would say furiously to her husband. —You’re no man; what a pity you wear such trousers! —But… but, woman, what about the guards? I’m lame! —You must challenge him with a pistol or a saber, or else… else… And Doña Victorina looked him in the teeth. « Daughter, I’ve never had sex… » Doña Victorina didn’t let him finish: with a sublime movement, she yanked out his dentures in the middle of the street and trampled on them. He, half- crying, and she fuming, arrived home. Linares was talking at that moment with María Clara, Sinang, and Victoria, and since he hadn’t heard anything about the disagreement, he was quite worried to see his cousins. María Clara, who was reclining in an armchair between pillows and blankets, was quite surprised to see her doctor’s new appearance. « Cousin, » says Doña Victorina, « are you going to challenge the ensign right now , or else…  » « And why? » asks Linares, surprised. « Are you going to challenge him right now, or else I’ll tell everyone here who you are?  » « But Doña Victorina! » The three friends look at each other. « Do you think so? » « The ensign insulted us and said that you are what you are! The old hag came down with a whip, and this one, this one let himself be insulted… a man!  » « Abá! » said Sinang; « they had a fight and we didn’t see him!  » « The ensign broke the doctor’s teeth! » added Victoria. « We’re leaving for Manila today; you stay here and challenge him, and if I don’t tell Don Santiago that everything you told him is a lie, I’ll tell him…  » « But, Doña Victorina, Doña Victorina! » interrupted Linares, pale, approaching her, « calm down; don’t make me remember… » and he added in a low voice: « Don’t be imprudent, just now. » Just as this was happening, Captain Tiago arrived from the cockpit, sad and sighing: he had lost his lásak. Doña Victorina didn’t give him time to sigh; In a few words and with many insults, she told him everything that had happened, of course, trying to put herself in a good light. « Linares is going to challenge him, do you hear? If not, don’t let him marry your daughter, don’t let him! If he doesn’t have courage, he doesn’t deserve Clarita…  » « So you’re marrying that man? » asks Sinang, her joyful eyes filling with tears; « I knew you were discreet, but not fickle.  » María Clara, pale as wax, half sits up and looks with frightened eyes at her father, Doña Victorina, and Linares. He blushes, Captain Tiago lowers his eyes, and the lady adds: « Clarita, keep this in mind; never marry a man who doesn’t wear trousers; you’re exposing yourself to being insulted even by dogs.  » But the young woman didn’t reply and said to her friends: « Take me to my room, I can’t walk alone. » They helped her get up; and with her friends’ round arms around her waist , her marble head resting on the shoulder of the beautiful Victoria, the young woman entered her bedroom. That same night, the two spouses gathered their things, gave Captain Tiago the bill, which amounted to several thousand, and left very early the next day for Manila in his carriage. The timid Linares was entrusted with the role of avenger. Chapter 51. THE ENIGMA. The dark swallows will return… (Becquer). As Lucas had announced, Ibarra arrived the next day. His first visit was to Captain Tiago’s family in order to see María Clara and report that Her Grace had already reconciled him to religion. He brought a letter of recommendation for the priest, written in the Archbishop’s own hand. Aunt Isabel was no little pleased by this. who loved the young man and did not look kindly on her niece’s marriage to Linares. Captain Tiago was not at home. « Come in, » the aunt was saying in her half-Spanish; « María, Don Crisóstomo is once again in God’s grace; the archbishop has excommunicated him.  » But the young man could not advance; the smile froze on his lips, and the word fled from his memory. Standing next to María Clara on the balcony was Linares, weaving bouquets with the flowers and leaves of the vines; roses and sampagas lay scattered on the ground. María Clara, leaning back in her armchair, pale and thoughtful, her gaze sad, was playing with an ivory fan, not as white as her sharp fingers. At Ibarra’s presence, Linares turned pale, and María Clara’s cheeks were tinged with carmine. He tried to get up, but, failing him, he lowered his eyes and dropped his fan. An awkward silence reigned for a few seconds. Finally, Ibarra was able to come forward and murmur, trembling: « I just arrived, and I came running to see you… I find you’re better than I thought.  » María Clara seemed to have become mute; she didn’t utter a word , her eyes still lowered. Ibarra looked Linares up and down, a look the embarrassed young man held haughtily. « Come, I see my arrival was unexpected, » he replied slowly. « Maria, forgive me for not having announced myself; another day I will be able to give you an explanation of my conduct… we will meet again… for sure.  » These last words were accompanied by a glance at Linares. The young woman raised her beautiful eyes to him, full of purity and melancholy, so pleading and eloquent that Ibarra stopped, confused. « Can I come tomorrow? » « You know that I always welcome you, » she replied barely. Ibarra walked away, seemingly calm, but with a storm in his head and a cold heart. What he had just seen and felt was incomprehensible: what was that, doubt, lack of love, betrayal? « Oh, woman at last! » he murmured. Without noticing, he arrived at the site where the school was being built. The work was well underway; Ñor Juan, with his meter stick and plumb line, was moving back and forth among the many workers. When she saw him, she ran to meet him. « Don Crisóstomo, » she said, « you have finally arrived; we were all waiting for you. Look at the condition of the walls: they are already one meter ten high; in two days they will be as tall as a man. I have only admitted molave, dungon, ipil, langil; I have asked for tindalo, malatapay, pine, and narra [143] for the topsides. » « Do you want to visit the underground passages? » The workers greeted them respectfully. « Here is the canal I’ve allowed myself to add, » said Ñor Juan; « these underground canals lead to a kind of reservoir thirty paces away. It will be used for garden fertilizer; there wasn’t any on the plan. Do you dislike it?  » « On the contrary, I approve of it and congratulate you on your idea; you are a true architect: who did you learn from?  » « From me, sir, » the old man answered modestly. « Ah! Before I forget, let the scrupulous ones know (in case anyone fears speaking to me) that I am no longer excommunicated; the archbishop has invited me to dinner.  » « Abá, sir, we pay no attention to excommunications! We are all already excommunicated; Father Dámaso himself is, and yet he remains so fat.  » « How?  » « I believe it. » A year ago he hit the assistant priest with a stick, and the assistant priest is just as much a priest as he is. Who cares about excommunications, sir? Ibarra spotted Elías among the workers; he greeted him like the others, but with a look he made it clear he had something to say to him . « Ñor Juan, » Ibarra said, « will you bring me the list of the workers?  » Ñor Juan disappeared, and Ibarra approached Elías, who was lifting a large stone alone and loading it onto a cart. « If you could grant me, sir, a few hours of conversation, Take a walk along the lakeshore in the afternoon and board my bench, for I have serious matters to speak to you about, said Elías, moving away after seeing the young man shake his head. Ñor Juan brought the list, but Ibarra read it in vain; Elías ‘s name did not appear on it. Chapter 52. THE VOICE OF THE PERSECUTED Before the sun set, Ibarra would set foot on Elías’s bench on the lakeshore. The young man seemed upset. « Forgive me, sir, » said Elías somewhat sadly upon seeing him; « forgive me for daring to make this appointment; I wanted to speak to you freely, and we will have no witnesses here: in an hour we can return.  » « You are mistaken, friend Elías, » replied Ibarra, trying to smile;  » you must take me to that town whose bell tower we can see from here. Fate compels me to do it. » « Fate?  » « Yes; imagine that when I arrive I run into the ensign, who is making an effort to offer me his company. I was thinking of you and knew that he knew you, but to get him away I told him I was going to that town, where I’ll have to stay all day, since the man wants to look for me tomorrow afternoon.  » « I appreciate this courtesy, but you should have simply invited him to accompany you, » Elías replied naturally. « What! And you?  » « He wouldn’t have recognized me, since the only time he saw me he couldn’t have thought of establishing my identity.  » « I’m in a bad mood! » Ibarra sighed, thinking of María Clara. « What did you have to tell me? » Elías looked around him. They were already far from the shore; the sun had set, and, since twilight barely lasts in these latitudes, the shadows were beginning to lengthen, making the disk of the full moon shine. « Sir, » Elias replied in a grave voice, « I am the bearer of the wishes of many unfortunate people.  » « Of the unfortunate people? What do you mean? » Elias briefly recounted the conversation he had had with the leader of the tulisanes, omitting the latter’s doubts and threats. Ibarra listened attentively, and when Elias concluded his story, a long silence reigned, which Ibarra was the first to break: « So you desire… » « Radical reforms in the armed forces, in the priests, in the administration of justice; that is, they demand a paternalistic look from the government.  » « Reforms in what sense?  » « For example; more respect for human dignity, more security for the individual, less force for the already armed forces, fewer privileges for this body that easily abuses them.  » « Elias, » the young man replied, « I don’t know who you are, but I guess you’re not a common man; You think and act differently than others. You will understand me when I tell you that, although the current state of affairs is defective, it would be even more so if it were changed. I could get my friends in Madrid to talk, by paying them, I could talk to the Captain General, but neither would they achieve anything, nor does he have the power to introduce so many innovations, nor would I ever take a step in this direction, because I understand very well that if it is true that these Corporations have their defects, they are now necessary: ​​they are what is called a necessary evil. Elias, very surprised, raised his head and looked at him in astonishment. « Do you also believe, sir, in necessary evil? » he asked in a slightly trembling voice. « Do you believe that to do good, it is necessary to do evil?  » « No; I believe in it as in a violent remedy that we use when we want to cure an illness. » Now, the country is an organism suffering from a chronic illness, and to cure it, the government is forced to use means, harsh and violent if you will, but useful and necessary. « A bad doctor, sir, is one who only seeks to correct the symptoms and suppress them, without trying to investigate the origin of the evil, or knowing it, is afraid to attack it. The Civil Guard has no other purpose than this: the suppression of crime by terror and force, a purpose that is neither fulfilled nor accomplished. » more than by chance. And it must be borne in mind that society can only be severe with individuals when it has provided them with the necessary means for their moral perfectibility. In our country, since there is no society, since the people and the government do not form a unity, the latter must be indulgent, not only because it needs indulgence, but because the individual, neglected and abandoned by it, is less enlightened. Furthermore, following your comparison, the treatment applied to the country’s ills is so destructive that it is only felt in the healthy organism, whose vitality it weakens and prepares for evil. Wouldn’t it be more reasonable to strengthen the sick organism and lessen the violence of the medicine a little? « Weakening the Civil Guard would endanger the safety of the towns.  » « The safety of the towns! » Elías exclaimed bitterly. « It will soon be fifteen years since these towns have had their Civil Guard, and look: we still have tulisanes, we still hear of towns being sacked, roads are still blocked ; the robberies continue, and the perpetrators are not found. » Crime exists, and the true criminal roams free, but not the peaceful inhabitant of the town. Ask every honest citizen if they view this institution as a good, a protection from the government and not as an imposition, a despotism whose excesses hurt more than the violence of criminals. These are indeed great, but rare, and against them one is empowered to defend oneself; against the vexations of legal force, not even protest is permitted, and if they are not so great, they are nevertheless continuous and sanctioned. What effect does this institution have on the life of our towns? It paralyzes communications, because everyone fears being mistreated for trivial reasons; it focuses more on formalities than on the substance of things, the first symptom of incapacity; because someone has forgotten their ID, they must be tied up and mistreated; it doesn’t matter if they are a decent and well-regarded person ; The chiefs have as their first duty to be greeted, willingly or by force, even in the darkness of the night, while their inferiors imitate them in order to mistreat and rob the peasants, and they have no shortage of pretexts. There is no sanctity of the home: recently in Calamba, they attacked, by passing through the window, the house of a peaceful inhabitant to whom the chief owed favors; there is no security for the individual: when they need to clean the barracks or the house, they go out and seize anyone who does not resist to make them work during the day. Do you want more? For during these festivities, the prohibited games have continued, but they have brutally disturbed the rejoicings permitted by the authorities. You saw what the people thought of them; what did they gain by putting aside their anger and hoping in the justice of men? « Ah, sir, if this is what you call preserving order! »  » I agree that there are evils, » Ibarra replied, « but let us accept these evils for the good that accompanies them. This institution may be imperfect, but, believe me, it prevents the number of criminals from increasing, through the terror it inspires .  » « Rather, say that this terror increases the number, » Elías corrected himself. « Before the creation of this body, almost all criminals, with the exception of a very few, were criminals due to hunger; they plundered and stole to live, but the famine passed, and the roads were clear again; the poor but brave squad members, so slandered by those who have written about our country, were enough to drive them away with their imperfect weapons. Those who have a right to die, a duty to fight, and a reward for mockery. Now there are tulisanes, and they are for life. » A fault, a crime inhumanly punished, resistance against the excesses of this power, the fear of atrocious tortures cast them out of society forever and condemn them to kill or die. The terrorism of the Civil Guard closes the doors of repentance to them, and like a tulisán they fight and defend themselves in the mountains better than a soldier of Whoever mocks, it turns out that we are incapable of extinguishing the evil we have created. Remember what the prudence of Captain General de la Torre has done: the pardon he granted to those unfortunates has proven that in these mountains the heart of man still beats and only awaits forgiveness. Terrorism is useful when the people are enslaved, when the mountain has no caverns, when power posts a sentinel behind every tree, and when in the body of a slave there is only stomach and guts; but when the desperate man fighting for his life feels its strong arm, his heart beating, and his being filling with bile, can terrorism extinguish the fire it fuels? « You confuse me, Elias, to hear you speak like this; I would believe you were right if I didn’t have my own convictions. » But note one fact—don’t take offense, for I exclude you and view you as an exception—see who those demanding this reform are. Almost all of them are criminals or people who are about to become criminals! Criminals or future criminals, but why are they? Because their peace has been disturbed, their happiness snatched away, their most cherished affections wounded, and in asking for protection from justice, they have convinced themselves that they could only expect it from themselves. But you are mistaken, sir, if you think that only criminals ask for it. Go from town to town, from house to house; listen to the secret sighs of families, and you will be convinced that the evils the Civil Guard corrects are equal to, if not less than, those it continually causes. Would we deduce from this that all the neighbors are criminals? Then why defend them from the others? Why not destroy them all? « There is some error here that escapes me now, some error in theory that undermines practice, for in Spain, in the homeland, this body provides and has provided very great benefits.  » « I have no doubt: perhaps it is better organized there, the personnel more select; perhaps also because Spain needs it, but not the Philippines. Our customs, our way of being, which are always invoked when they want to deny us a right, are completely forgotten when they want to impose something on us. And tell me, sir: why have other nations not adopted this institution, which, by virtue of their proximity to Spain, should resemble it more than the Philippines? Is this why they have even fewer robberies on their railroads, fewer riots, fewer murders, and fewer stabbings in their great capitals?  » Ibarra lowered his head as if in meditation, then raised it and answered: « This question, my friend, requires serious study; if my inquiries tell me that these complaints are well-founded, I will write to my friends in Madrid, since we have no representatives.  » Meanwhile, believe that the government needs a body with unlimited power to command respect and the authority to impose its authority. « That, sir, is when the government is at war with the country; but, for the good of the government, we must not make the people believe that they are in opposition to the government. And if that were the case, if we preferred power to prestige, we should consider carefully to whom we grant this unlimited power, this authority. So much power in the hands of men—ignorant men, full of passions, without moral education, without proven honesty—is a weapon in the hands of a madman among a defenseless crowd. I concede, and I want to believe with you, that the government needs this arm; so let it choose its arm well, let it choose the most worthy; and since it prefers to give itself authority to the people rather than have it granted to it, at least let it show that it knows how to give it to them.  » Elías spoke with passion, with enthusiasm; his eyes shone, and the timbre of his voice resonated vibrantly. A solemn pause followed: the banca, not propelled by the oar, seemed to remain calm on the water; the moon shone majestically in a sapphire sky; a few lights shone far away on the shore. « And what more do they ask for? » Ibarra asked. « Reform of the priesthood, » Elías replied in a discouraged and sad voice; « the unfortunates ask for more protection against… » « Against the religious orders?  » « Against their oppressors, sir.  » « Have the Philippines forgotten what they owe to these orders? Have they forgotten the immense debt of gratitude to those who have led them out of error and given them faith, to those who have protected them against the tyrannies of civil power? This is the evil of not knowing the history of the country!  » Elías, surprised, could hardly believe what he was hearing. « Sir, » he replied in a grave voice, « you accuse the people of ingratitude; allow me, one of the suffering people, to defend them. Favors done, in order to have the right to recognition, must be disinterested. Let us ignore the mission, the much-abused Christian charity; let us disregard history; let us not ask what Spain has done to the Jewish people, who have given all of Europe one book, one religion, and one God; What has been done to the Arab people that has given them culture, has been tolerant of their religion, and has reawakened their national self-esteem, dormant and almost destroyed during Roman and Gothic domination ? You say they have given us faith and have led us out of error; do you call those external practices faith, that trade in belts and scapulars religion, those miracles and tales we hear every day truth? Is this the law of Jesus Christ? For this, God did not need to allow himself to be crucified, nor did we need to oblige ourselves to eternal gratitude: superstition existed long before; it only needed to be perfected and the price of goods raised. You will tell me that, however imperfect our current religion may be, it is preferable to the one we had; I believe it and agree with it, but it is too expensive, for for it we have renounced our nationality, our independence; for it we have given our best towns and our fields to its priests, and we still contribute our savings by purchasing religious objects. A foreign industry has been introduced to us , we pay well for it, and we are at peace. If you speak to me of the protection given against the encomenderos [144], I could answer that it was because of them that we fell under the power of these encomenderos; but no, I recognize that a true faith and a true love of humanity guided the first missionaries who came to our shores; I acknowledge the debt of gratitude toward those noble hearts; I know that the Spain of that time abounded in heroes of all kinds, religious, political, civil, and military. But because our ancestors were virtuous, would we consent to abuse in their degenerate descendants? Because a great good has been done to us, would we be guilty of preventing them from doing us harm? The country is not asking for abolition; it only asks for reforms that new circumstances and new needs demand. « I love our homeland, as you can love it, Elias; I understand something of what you want. I have listened attentively to what you said, and yet, my friend, I believe we see a little with the eyes of passion: here I see less of the need for reforms than elsewhere. « Is it possible, sir? » asked Elias, spreading his hands in discouragement. « Don’t you see the need for reforms, you whose family misfortunes…  » « Ah, I forget myself and my own troubles for the safety of the Philippines, for the interests of Spain! » interrupted Ibarra briskly. « To preserve the Philippines, it is necessary that the friars continue as they are, and the good of our country lies in union with Spain. » Ibarra had already finished speaking, and Elias was still listening; his face was sad, his eyes had lost their sparkle. « The missionaries have conquered the country, it is true, » he replied; « do you think that the Philippines will be preserved through the friars? » « Yes, only because of them, so believe all those who have written about the Philippines.  » « Oh! » exclaimed Elias, throwing down his oar on the bench in dismay; « I didn’t believe you had such a poor idea of ​​the government and the country. Why don’t you despise both? What would you say of a family that only lives in peace because of the intervention of a stranger? A country that obeys because He is being deceived, a government that rules because it uses deception, a government that does not know how to make itself loved or respected! Forgive me, sir, but I believe your government is clumsy and suicidal when it rejoices in being believed as such. I thank you for your kindness. Where do you want me to lead you now? « No, » replied Ibarra; « let us discuss; it is necessary to know who is right in such an important matter.  » « Forgive me, sir, » replied Elías, shaking his head; « I am not eloquent enough to convince you; although I have had some education, I am an indigenous person; my existence is doubtful to you, and my words will always seem suspect to you. Those who have expressed the contrary opinion are Spaniards, and as such, even if they say trivial or simplistic things, their tone, their titles, and their origins consecrate them, giving them such authority that I desist forever from combating them. » Furthermore, when I see that you, who love your country, you whose father rests beneath these tranquil waves, you who have been provoked, insulted, and persecuted, hold such opinions despite everything and your enlightenment, I begin to doubt my convictions and admit the possibility that the people may be mistaken. I must tell those unfortunates who have placed their trust in men to place it in God or in their arms. I thank you again, and command you where I must lead you. Elias, your bitter words reach my heart and make me doubt as well. What do you want? I was not educated among the people, whose needs I perhaps do not understand; I spent my childhood in the Jesuit school, I grew up in Europe, I was educated in books, and I have read only what men have been able to bring to light; what remains in the shadows, what writers do not say, that I do not know. Nevertheless, I love our country, as you do, not only because it is the duty of every man to love the country to which he owes his existence and to which he may perhaps owe his final refuge; not only because my father taught me so, because my mother was an Indian, and because all my most beautiful memories live on in it; I also love it because I owe it and will owe it my happiness! « And I because I owe it my misfortune, » Elias murmured. « Yes, my friend, I know that you suffer, you are unhappy, and this makes your future seem dark and influences your way of thinking; that is why I listen to your complaints with a certain amount of caution. If I could appreciate the reasons, part of that past… » « My misfortunes have another origin; if I knew they were going to be of some use, I would tell you about them, for apart from not making a mystery of them, they are quite well known to many.  » « Perhaps knowing them will rectify my judgments; You know that I am very suspicious of theories; I am guided more by facts. Elias remained thoughtful for a few moments. « If that is so, sir, » he replied, « I will tell you my story briefly. Chapter 53. THE FAMILY OF ELIAS About sixty years ago, my grandfather lived in Manila and served as a bookkeeper in the house of a Spanish merchant. My grandfather was then very young, married, and had a son. One night, somehow or other, the storehouse burned down. The fire spread to the entire house, and from there to many others. The losses were innumerable; a criminal was sought, and the merchant accused my grandfather. He protested in vain, and since he was poor and could not afford to pay the famous lawyers, he was condemned to be publicly whipped and paraded through the streets of Manila. Not long ago, this infamous punishment, which the people call « horse and cow, » was still in use, a thousand times worse than death itself. My grandfather, abandoned by all but his young wife, found himself tied to a horse, followed by a cruel crowd, whipped at every corner, in the face of men, his brothers, and in the vicinity of the numerous temples of a God of peace. When the wretch, now infamous forever, had satisfied the vengeance of men with his blood, his tortures and his screams, they had to pull him from the horse because he had lost consciousness, and Would that he had died! For one of those refined cruelties, he was set free; his poor wife, then pregnant, begged in vain from door to door for work or alms to care for her sick husband and poor child. Who would trust the wife of an arsonist and infamous man? The wife, then, had to turn to prostitution! Ibarra rose from his seat. Oh, don’t worry! Prostitution was no longer a disgrace to her nor a dishonor to her husband: honor and shame no longer existed. The husband recovered from his wounds and came to hide with his wife and child in the mountains of this province. Here the woman gave birth to a damaged and diseased fetus, which had the good fortune to die. Here they lived for a few more months, miserable, isolated, hated and feared by all. Unable to bear his misery and less courageous than his wife, my grandfather hanged himself, despairing of seeing his wife sick, deprived of all help and care. The body rotted before the eyes of the son, who could barely care for his ailing mother, and the foul odor was brought to the attention of the court. My grandmother was accused and convicted for not having reported the death; she was blamed for her husband’s death, and this was believed, for what is the wife of a wretch, who later became a prostitute, not capable of? If she swears, they call her a perjurer; if she cries, they say she is lying, and if she invokes God, she is blaspheming. Nevertheless, they showed her consideration and waited for her delivery before whipping her. You know that the friars spread the belief that indigenous people can only be treated with beatings: read what Father Gaspar de S. Agustín says. Thus condemned, a woman will curse the day her child is born : which, besides prolonging the torture, violates maternal feelings. The woman gave birth happily, but unfortunately, the child was also born strong. Two months later, the sentence was carried out, to the great satisfaction of the men, who believed they were thus fulfilling their duty. No longer at ease in these mountains, she fled with her two sons to the neighboring province, and there they lived like wild beasts: hating and hated. The elder of the two brothers, who remembered his happy childhood amidst so much misery, became a tulisán as soon as he found the strength. Soon, the bloodthirsty name of Balat spread from province to province, terrorizing the people, because in his vengeance, he turned everything into blood and fire. The youngest, who had been given a kind heart by nature, had resigned himself to his fate and infamy at his mother’s side: they lived off what the forest provided, dressed in the rags thrown to them by wayfarers; she had lost her name, and was known only by the epithets of criminal, prostitute, and beaten woman. He was known only as his mother’s son, because, due to his sweet nature, they didn’t believe him to be the son of the arsonist, and because the morality of the indigenous people could be questioned . Finally, the famous Bálat one day fell into the hands of Justice, who demanded a strict accounting of his crimes, she who had done nothing to teach him good; And one morning, as the young man was looking for his mother, who had gone into the woods to pick mushrooms and had not yet returned, he found her lying on the ground by the side of the road, under a cotton plant, her face turned to the sky, her eyes wide open and fixed, her fingers clenched, buried in the ground, on which bloodstains were visible. The young man happened to look up and follow the gaze of the corpse, and he saw a basket hanging from the branch, and inside the basket the bloody head of his brother! « My God! » exclaimed Ibarra. « That’s what my father could have exclaimed! » continued Elías coldly. « The men had quartered the robber and buried the body, but the limbs were scattered and hung in different villages. » If you ever go from Calamba to Santo Tomas, you will still find a miserable lomboy tree where one of my uncle’s legs hung rotting: Nature has cursed it and the tree neither grows nor bears fruit. They did the same with the other limbs, but the head, the head As the best in an individual, as that which is most easily recognized, they hung her in front of her mother’s cabin! Ibarra lowered his head. « The young man fled like a cursed man, » Elías continued; « he fled from town to town, through mountains and valleys, and when he already believed himself unknown, he became a worker in the house of a rich man in the province of Tayabas. His activity, the sweetness of his character, earned him the esteem of all those who did not know his past. Through hard work and thrift, he managed to build a small fortune, and since poverty had passed and he was young, he thought he would be happy. His good looks, his youth, and his somewhat comfortable situation won him the love of a young woman from the town, whose hand he did not dare to ask for for fear of revealing his past. But love won, and both failed in their duties. The man, to save his woman’s honor, risks everything, asks for her hand in marriage, documents are sought, and everything is revealed: the young woman’s father was rich, managed to have the man prosecuted, but the man made no attempt to defend himself, admitted everything, and was sent to prison. The young woman gave birth to a boy and a girl, who were raised in secret, making them believe their father was dead, which was not difficult, given that they had seen their mother die at a tender age, and little thought was given to investigating genealogies. Since our grandfather was wealthy, our childhood was very fortunate; my sister and I were raised together, loving each other as only twins who know no other love can love. Very young, I went to study at the Jesuit school, and my sister, so as not to be completely separated, transferred to the Concordia boarding school. After completing our brief education, because our only desire was to be farmers, we retired to the village to take possession of our grandfather’s inheritance. We lived happily for some time ; the future smiled upon us, we had many servants, our fields yielded good crops, and my sister was on the verge of marrying a young man whom she adored and whose affection she reciprocated. For financial reasons, and because of my then haughty character, I alienated myself from the will of a distant relative, and one day he reproached me for my sinister birth and my infamous ancestry. I believed it to be slander and demanded satisfaction. The grave in which so much rottenness lay slumbered opened again, and the truth came out to confound me. To make matters worse, for years we had an old servant who suffered my every whim without ever leaving us, contenting himself only with crying and moaning amid the jeers of the other servants. I don’t know how my relative found out ; the fact is that he summoned this old man to court and made him declare the truth. The old servant was our father, who clung to his beloved children and whom I had mistreated several times. Our happiness faded, I renounced our fortune, my sister lost her fiancé, and my father and I left town for some other place. The thought of having contributed to our misfortune shortened the days of the old man, from whose lips I learned the entire painful past. My sister and I were left alone. She wept a lot, but amidst all the sorrows that piled up upon us, she could not forget her love. Without complaining, without saying a word, she watched her former fiancé marry another woman, and I watched her gradually become ill without being able to console her. One day she disappeared; in vain I searched for her everywhere, in vain I asked for her, until six months later I learned that around that time, after a flood of the lake, the body of a young woman, drowned or murdered, had been found on the beach of Calamba among some rice paddies . She had, they say, a knife stuck in her chest. The authorities of that town had the incident publicized in the neighboring villages. No one came forward to claim the body, no young woman had disappeared. From the details they gave me later, from her dress, her jewelry, the beauty of her face and her abundant hair, I recognized her as my poor sister. Since then I have wandered from province to province; My fame and my story are on the lips of many, deeds are attributed to me, sometimes I am slandered, but I pay little attention to men and continue on my way. Here is a brief account of my story, and the story of one of the trials of men. Elijah fell silent and continued rowing. « I am beginning to believe that you are not wrong, » Chrysostom murmured in a low voice, « when you say that justice should seek good by rewarding virtue and the education of criminals. Only … this is impossible, utopian; for where can one get so much money, so many new employees?  » « And what are the priests for who proclaim their mission of peace and charity? Will it be more meritorious to wet a child’s head with water, to feed him salt, than to awaken in the darkened conscience of a criminal that spark, given by God to every man to seek good? » Is it more humane to accompany a prisoner to the gallows than to accompany him along the difficult path that leads from vice to virtue? Aren’t spies, executioners, and civil guards also paid? This, besides being dirty, also costs money. « My friend, neither you nor I, even if we wanted to, will achieve it.  » « Alone, in truth, we are nothing; but take up the cause of the people, unite with the people, do not ignore their voices, set an example to others, give the idea of ​​what is called a homeland!  » « What the people ask for is impossible; it is necessary to wait.  » « To wait, to wait is equivalent to suffering!  » « If I asked for it, they would laugh at me.  » « And if the people support you?  » « Never! I will never be the one to lead the multitude to achieve by force what the government does not deem appropriate, no! » And if I ever saw that armed multitude, I would side with the government and fight it, for in that mob I would not see my country. I want its good, that is why I am building a school; I seek it through instruction, through progressive advancement; without light there is no path. « Without struggle there is no freedom either! » Elias replied. « It is that I do not want that freedom!  » « It is that without freedom there is no light, » the pilot replied briskly. « You say you know little about your country, I believe it. You do not see the battle that is being prepared, you do not see the cloud on the horizon; the battle begins in the sphere of ideas to descend into the arena, which will be stained with blood. I hear the voice of God. Woe to those who want to resist him! History has not been written for them! » Elias was transfigured: standing, uncovered, his manly countenance, illuminated by the moon, had something extraordinary about it. He shook his abundant hair and continued: « Do you not see how everything awakens? The dream lasted centuries, but one day lightning struck, and the lightning, in destroying, called forth life; since then, new tendencies have been at work in the spirits, and these tendencies, now separated, will one day unite, guided by God. God has not failed other peoples, nor will He fail ours; his cause is the cause of liberty.  » A solemn silence followed these words. Meanwhile, the boat, imperceptibly carried by the waves, was approaching the shore. Elijah was the first to break the silence. « What shall I say to those who sent me? » he asked, changing his tone. « I have already told you: that I greatly deplore their condition, but that they should wait, for evils are not cured with other evils, and in our misfortune we all have our faults.  » Elijah did not reply again; He lowered his head, continued rowing, and upon reaching the shore, he bade farewell to Ibarra, saying: « I thank you, sir, for the condescension you have shown me; in your own interest I ask that from now on you forget me and do not recognize me in any situation you find me. » And with that, he returned to steering the banca, rowing in the direction of a thicket on the beach. During the long journey he remained silent; he seemed to see nothing but the thousands of diamonds, which with the oar he pulled up and returned to the lake where they mysteriously disappeared among the blue waves. Finally he arrived; a man came out of the thicket and approached him. « What do I say to the captain? » he asked. « Tell him that Elias, if he doesn’t die first, will keep his word, » he answered sadly. « Then when will you join us?  » « When your captain believes the hour of danger has arrived.  » « All right, goodbye!  » « If I don’t die first! » Elias murmured. Chapter 54. CHANGES. The prudish Linares is serious and full of anxiety; has just received a letter from Doña Victorina, which reads as follows: Dear cousin: In three days I hope to hear from you. If the ensign has already killed you or you have, I do not want another day to go by without this animal having its punishment. If this period passes, do not even read it challenged. I tell Don Santiago that you were never a secretary, nor did you joke with Canobas, nor did you go to hell with General Don Arsenó Martines. I tell Clarita that it is all bullshit, I will not give you a penny more if you challenge him. I promise you everything you want to have if you trust him. I warn you that there are no questions or reasons. Your cousin who loves you with all her heart, with Victorina de los Reyes de Espadaña. Sampaloc, Monday at 7 p.m. The matter was serious: Linares knew Doña Victorina’s character and knew what she was capable of; To speak to him about reason was to speak about honesty and civility to a Treasury officer, when he sets out to find contraband where there is none; pleading was useless; deception was worse; there was no choice but to defy. « But how? » he said, strolling alone; « if he receives me in a fit of temper? If I meet his wife? Who will want to be my godfather? The priest? Captain Tiago? Damn the hour when I listened to his advice! Boring! Who forced me to show off, to tell rumors, to cajole with boasts! What is that young lady going to say about me? Now I regret having been secretary to all the ministers!  » The good Linares was in the midst of this sad soliloquy when Father Salví arrived. The Franciscan was indeed thinner and paler than usual, but his eyes shone with a singular light and a strange smile appeared on his lips. « Señor Linares, are you alone? » he greeted, heading for the living room, through whose half-open door a few piano notes escaped. Linares tried to smile. « And Don Santiago? » added the priest. Captain Tiago appeared at that very moment, kissed the priest’s hand, took off his hat and cane, smiling like a saint. « Come, come! » said the priest, entering the living room, followed by Linares and Captain Tiago. « I have good news to share with everyone. I have received letters from Manila confirming what Señor Ibarra brought me yesterday… so, Don Santiago, the impediment disappears. » María Clara, who was sitting at the piano between her two friends, half rises, but loses her strength and sits back down. Linares turns pale and looks at Captain Tiago, who lowers his eyes. « That young man is beginning to seem very likeable to me, » the priest continued. « At first I misjudged him… he’s a bit quick-tempered, but later he knows how to correct his faults so well that one can’t hold a grudge against him. If it weren’t for Padre Dámaso… » And the priest glanced quickly at María Clara, who was listening, but without taking her eyes off the music paper, despite the covert pinches from Sinang, who thus expressed her joy, and if she were alone she would have danced. « Father Dámaso? » Linares asked. « Yes, Padre Dámaso said, » the priest continued without taking his eyes off María Clara, « that as… a godfather at baptism, he couldn’t allow it… but anyway, I believe that if Señor Ibarra asks for her forgiveness, which I have no doubt he will, everything will be all right. » María Clara got up, made an excuse, and retired to her room, accompanied by Victoria. « And what if Father Dámaso doesn’t forgive him? » Captain Tiago asks in a low voice. « Then… María Clara will see… Father Dámaso is her spiritual father; but I believe they will understand each other. » At that moment, footsteps were heard and Ibarra appeared, followed by the Aunt Isabel: her presence made a very mixed impression. She affably greeted Captain Tiago, who didn’t know whether to smile or cry, and Linares with a profound bow. Fray Salví stood up and extended his hand so affectionately that Ibarra couldn’t contain a look of surprise. « Don’t be surprised, » Fray Salví said; « I was just praising you.  » Ibarra thanked him and approached Sinang. « Where have you been all day? » she asked with her youthful chattiness. « We wondered and said to ourselves: Where has that soul redeemed from purgatory gone? » And each of us said something. « And may I ask what you were saying?  » « No, that’s a secret, but I’ll tell you privately. Now tell us where you’ve been, so we can see who can guess. » « No, that’s also a secret, but I’ll tell you in private, if the gentlemen permit it.  » « I certainly do! I certainly do! » said Father Salví. Sinang led Crisóstomo to one end of the room; she was very happy at the idea of ​​knowing a secret. « Tell me, my dear friend, » asked Ibarra, « is María angry with me? » « I don’t know, but she says it’s better for you to forget her, and she begins to cry. Captain Tiago wants her to marry that gentleman, and so does Father Dámaso, but she won’t say yes or no. This morning, when we were asking about you and I said, ‘Has he gone to make love to someone?’ she answered, ‘I wish!’ and began to cry. Ibarra was serious. « Tell María I want to speak to her alone.  » « Alone? » asked Sinang, frowning and looking at him. « Not entirely alone, no; but he shouldn’t be there.  » « It’s difficult: but don’t worry, I’ll tell him.  » « And when will I know the answer?  » « Tomorrow, go home early. Maria never wants to be alone; we accompany her; Victorina sleeps one night at her side and I the next; tomorrow it’s my turn. But listen, what about the secret? Are you leaving without telling me the main thing?  » « It’s true! I was in the town of Los Baños; I’m going to exploit the coca fields, because I’m planning to set up a factory; your father will be my partner.  » « Nothing more than that? What a secret! » exclaimed Sinang aloud, in the tone of a swindled usurer; « I thought…  » « Careful! I won’t allow you to publish it!  » « You won’t! » replied Sinang, wrinkling her nose. « If it were something more important, I’d tell my friends; but buying coconuts! Coconuts! » Who ‘s interested in coconuts? And she hurried off to find her friends. Moments later, Ibarra said goodbye, seeing that the gathering could only languish; Captain Tiago had a bittersweet face, Linares was silent and observed, the priest, feigning joy, spoke of strange things. None of the young women had returned. Chapter 55. THE LETTER OF THE DEAD AND THE SHADOWS The cloudy sky hides the moon; a cold wind, a harbinger of approaching December, sweeps some dry leaves and dust across the narrow path that leads to the cemetery. Three shadows speak to each other in low voices beneath the door. « Have you spoken to Elías? » a voice asked. « No, you know he is very strange and circumspect, but he must be one of us: Don Crisóstomo saved his life. » « That’s why I also accepted, » says the first voice; « Don Crisóstomo is having my wife treated at a doctor’s house in Manila. I’ve taken charge of the convent to settle my accounts with the priest.  » « And we’re going to the barracks to tell the civilians that our father had children.  » « How many of you will there be?  » « Five, five is enough. Don Crisóstomo’s servant says there will be twenty.  » « And if you don’t come out all right?  » « Holy! » said one, and they all fell silent. Through the semi-darkness, a shadow could be seen approaching, gliding along the fence: from time to time it stopped as if it were turning its face back. And it had good reason. Behind it, about twenty paces away, came another shadow, larger, and which seemed more shadowy than the first: so lightly did it step the ground disappeared rapidly as if swallowed up by the earth each time the first stopped and turned around. « They’re following me! » the latter murmured. « Could it be the Civil Guard? Is the head sacristan lying?  » « They say the rendezvous is here, » the second shadow said in a low voice. « There must be something bad going on when the two brothers keep it from me. » The first shadow finally reached the cemetery gate. The first three moved forward. « Is it you?  » « Is it you?  » « Let’s split up, they’ve followed me! Tomorrow you’ll have your weapons, and at night it will be. The cry is: Long live Don Crisóstomo! Go! » The three shadows disappeared behind the walls. The newcomer hid in the hollow of the gate and waited silently. « Let’s see who’s following me! » he murmured. The second shadow arrived very cautiously and stopped as if to look around. « I’ve come late! » he said in a low voice; « but perhaps they’ll come back. » And as a fine, light rain was beginning to fall, which threatened to last longer, he thought of taking shelter under the door. Naturally, he met the other. « Ah! Who are you? » asked the newcomer in a manly voice. « And who are you? » replied the other calmly. A moment’s pause; both tried to recognize each other by the tone of their voices and distinguish each other’s features. « What are you waiting for here? » asked the one with the manly voice. « When eight o’clock strikes, I’ll have the letter from the dead; I want to win a sum tonight, » replied the other in a matter-of-fact voice; « and what are you here for?  » « The… same.  » « Abá! [145] I’m glad: thus I shall be without a companion. I have cards; at the first stroke I’ll put a chance on them; at the second, a rooster; Those that move are the dead’s cards, and we must fight them out with all our might. Do you also bring cards? ‘ ‘No! ‘ ‘Then? ‘ ‘Quite simply; just as you provide a bank for them, I hope they ‘ll provide one for me. ‘ ‘And if the dead don’t? ‘ ‘What to do? Gambling hasn’t yet become obligatory among the dead… ‘ There was a moment of silence. ‘Are you armed? How are you going to fight the dead? ‘ ‘With my fists,’ replied the larger of the two. ‘Ah, devil, now I remember! The dead don’t aim when there’s more than one living person, and there are two of us. ‘ ‘Really? Well, I don’t want to leave. ‘ ‘Nor I, I need money,’ replied the smaller one; ‘but let’s do one thing: let’s play together, and whoever loses, let him go away. ‘ ‘So be it…’ replied the other with some disgust. ‘Then let’s go in… Do you have any matches?’ They entered and searched in the semi-darkness for a suitable place, and soon found a niche in which they sat. The shorter one took some cards out of his salakot, and the other lit a match. In the light they looked at each other, but judging by the expressions on their faces, they didn’t know each other. However, we will recognize Elias in the taller one with his manly voice, and Lucas with his scar on his cheek in the younger one. « Cut! » said the latter, still watching him. He moved aside some bones he found on the niche and took out an ace and a knight. Elias lit matches one after the other. « Knight! » he said, and to mark the card, he placed a vertebra on top. « Game! » said Lucas, and after four or five cards he took out an ace. « You’ve lost, » he added; « now leave me alone to make a living. » Elias, without saying a word, walked away, disappearing into the darkness. A few minutes later, the church clock struck eight, and the bell announced the hour of the souls; but Lucas did not invite anyone to play: he did not evoke the dead, as superstition dictates, but instead uncovered his head and murmured a few prayers, crossing himself with the same fervor as the leader of the brotherhood of the most holy rosary would have done at that moment. It continued to drizzle all night. By nine o’clock the streets were already dark and deserted; the oil lamps, which each neighbor must hanging, they barely illuminated a sphere of one meter in radius: they seemed to be lit to make the darkness visible. Two civil guards were pacing up and down the street, near the church. « It’s cold! » one was saying in Tagalog, with a Visayan accent [146]; « We can’t catch a sacristan; there’s no one to fix the lieutenant’s henhouse… With the death of the other, they’ve learned their lesson; this bores me.  » « And me, » the other replied, « no one steals or causes trouble; but, thank God, they say Elías is in town. The lieutenant says that whoever catches him will be free from flogging for three months.  » « Ah! Do you know the signs by heart? » asked the Visayan. « I believe it! Tall, according to the lieutenant; average, according to Father Dámaso; Black person color, Black eyes, regular nose, regular mouth, no beard, Black person hair… –Oh! And any distinguishing features? –Black shirt, Black person pants, lumberjack… –Ah! He won’t get away; I think I see him now. –I can’t confuse him with anyone else, even though he looks similar. And both soldiers continue their patrol. In the light of the lanterns we see two shadows again, walking one behind the other with great caution. An energetic « Who’s there? » stops them both, and the first answers « Spain! » in a trembling voice. The soldiers drag him and take him to a lantern to identify him. It was Lucas, but the soldiers hesitate and consult each other with their eyes. –The ensign didn’t say he has a scar!–says the Visayan in a low voice.–Where are you going? –To send for a mass for tomorrow. –Haven’t you seen Elías? –« I don’t know him, sir! » answers Lucas. –I’m not asking you if you know him, fool! We don’t know him either; I’m asking you if you’ve seen him. « No, sir.  » « Listen carefully, I’ll tell you his address. Sometimes tall, sometimes average; black hair and eyes; everything else is average, » says the Visaya. « Do you know him now?  » « No, sir! » answered Lucas, stunned. « Then, sulung! donkey! donkey! » And they gave him a shove. « Do you know why Elías is tall for the ensign, and average for the priest? » the Tagalog thoughtfully asks the Visaya. « No. »
« Because the ensign was sunken in the puddle when he saw him, and the priest was standing.  » « It’s true! » exclaims the Visaya; « you have talent… how are you a civil guard?  » « I wasn’t always one; I was a smuggler, » answers the Tagalog boastfully. But another shadow distracted them: they gave it the « Who’s there? » and brought it into the light. This time it was Elias himself who appeared. “Where are you going? ” “To chase, sir, a man who hit and threatened my brother; he has a scar on his face and his name is Elias… ” “Ah!” the two exclaimed, looking at each other in terror. And immediately they began to run in the direction of the church, where Lucas had disappeared minutes before. Chapter 56. GOOD DAY IF YOU KNOW THE MORNING [147] Early in the morning, the news spread through the town that many lights had been seen in the cemetery the previous night. The leader of the VOT spoke of lit candles and described their shapes and sizes, but he could not say exactly how many, because he had counted more than twenty. Sister Sipa, of the confraternity of the Most Holy Rosary, should not tolerate the boasting of having seen this grace of God by one of the enemy confraternity: Sister Sipa, although not living nearby, heard lamentations and moans, and even thought she recognized in the voices certain people with whom she had once been… but, out of Christian charity, she not only forgave, but prayed and kept silent about their names, for which reason everyone declared her a saint incontinenti. Sister Rufa does not truly have such fine hearing, but she must not suffer that Sister Sipa heard it, and she did not; for this reason she had a dream and many souls were presented to her, not only of dead people, but also of living ones; the souls in torment asked for a share of her indulgences, carefully noted and stored up. She will be able to recite their names. to the families concerned, and asks only for a small alms to help the Pope in his needs. A young boy, a shepherd by trade, who dared to claim to have seen nothing but a light and two men with salakot, barely escaped beatings and insults. He swore in vain; his carabaos were with him and could speak. « Are you going to know more than the warden and the sisters, a para-mason [148], a heretic? » they said to him, looking at him with displeasure. The priest went up to the pulpit and returned to preaching about purgatory, and the pesos came out of their hiding places again to win a mass. But let us leave the souls in pain and listen to the conversation of Don Filipo and old Tasio, sick in his solitary little house. For days the philosopher or madman had not left his bed, confined by a weakness that was rapidly progressing. « I truly don’t know whether to congratulate you on having accepted your resignation. Before, when the gobernadorcillo so blatantly ignored the opinion of the majority, requesting it was only right; but now that you’re fighting with the Civil Guard, it’s inappropriate. In times of war, one should remain at one’s post.  » « Yes, but not when the general sells himself out, » Don Filipo replied.  » You know that the next morning the gobernadorcillo released the soldiers I managed to capture, and he has refused to take a single step. Without my superior’s consent, I can do nothing.  » « You alone, nothing, but with the others, a lot. You would have taken advantage of this opportunity to set an example for the other towns. Above the ridiculous authority of the gobernadorcillo rests the rights of the people; it was the beginning of a good lesson, and you lost it.  » « And what could I have done against the representative of our concerns? There you have Señor Ibarra; he has yielded to the beliefs of the multitude. » Do you think he believes in excommunication? « You’re not in the same situation: Señor Ibarra wants to sow, and to sow, you have to lower yourself and obey the material; your mission was to shake, and to shake requires strength and drive. Besides, the fight shouldn’t have been against the gobernadorcillo; the phrase should have been: against him who abuses his power, against him who disturbs public tranquility , against him who fails in his duty; and you wouldn’t have been alone, since the country today is not the same as it was twenty years ago.  » « Do you believe it? » asked Don Filipo. « And don’t you feel it? » replied the old man, half-sitting up in bed. « Ah! It’s because you haven’t seen the past, you haven’t studied the effect of European immigration, of the arrival of new books, and of the departure of young people to Europe. » Study and compare: it is true that the Royal Pontifical University of Saint Thomas still exists with its most learned faculty, and some minds are still exercising their powers in formulating distinctions and perfecting the subtleties of scholasticism. But where will you find now that metaphysical youth of our times, of archaeological instruction, who, their brains tortured, died sophisticating in a provincial corner, without fully understanding the attributes of being, without resolving the question of essence and existence, lofty concepts that made us forget the essential: our existence and our own entity? Look now at childhood! Full of enthusiasm in view of broader horizons, they study history, mathematics, geography, literature, science, physics, languages, all subjects that in our time we heard with horror, as if they were heresies; the freest thinker of my age declared them inferior to the categories of Aristotle and the laws of the syllogism. Man has finally understood that he is man; He renounces the analysis of his God, penetrating the impalpable, what he has not seen, giving laws to the phantoms of his brain; man understands that his inheritance is the vast world whose dominion is within his reach; tired of his useless and presumptuous work, he lowers his head and examines everything around him. See now how our poets are born; the muses of nature gradually open their treasures to us. And they begin to smile upon us, encouraging us to work. The experimental sciences have already borne their first fruits; now it remains for time to perfect them. New lawyers are being trained in the new molds of legal philosophy; some are beginning to shine amidst the darkness surrounding our platform, and they note a change in the march of the times. Listen to how the youth speak, visit the centers of learning, and other names resonate in the cloisters, where we only hear those of Saint Thomas, Suárez, Amat, Sánchez, and others, idols of my time. In vain do the friars cry out from the pulpit against demoralization, as fishmongers cry out against the greed of buyers, without noticing that their merchandise is stale and useless. In vain do the convents extend their extensions and roots to stifle the new current in the villages; the gods are leaving; The roots of a tree can weaken the plants that support it, but they cannot take the life of other beings, which, like the bird, soar to the heavens. The philosopher spoke animatedly; his eyes shone. « However, the new germ is small; if everyone aims at progress, which we buy so dearly, it can be stifled, » objected Don Filipo, incredulous. « Stifle it… who? Man, that sick dwarf, stifle progress, the powerful son of time and activity? When could he do it? Dogma, the scaffold, and the stake, trying to suspend it, push it forward. E pur si muove, » said Galileo, when the Dominicans forced him to declare that the earth did not move; the same phrase applies to human progress. Some wills will be violated, some individuals will be sacrificed, but it does not matter: progress will continue on its way, and from the blood of those who fall, new and vigorous shoots will sprout. « Look! The press itself, however retrograde it might like to be, is also taking a step forward; the Dominicans themselves are no exception to this law, and they imitate the Jesuits, their irreconcilable enemies: they give festivals in their cloisters, build little theaters, and compose poetry, because, as they are not lacking in intelligence despite believing themselves to be in the fifteenth century, they understand that the Jesuits are right, and will still take part in the future of the young peoples they have educated.  » « According to you, are the Jesuits in step with progress? » Don Filipo asked in wonder. « Why, then, are they being fought in Europe?  » « I will answer you like an ancient scholastic, » replied the philosopher, lying down again and recovering his mocking countenance: « There are three ways to go with progress: in front, beside, and behind. » The former guide him, the latter allow themselves to be led, the latter are dragged along, and to these belong the Jesuits. They would like to lead him, but, seeing him strong and with other tendencies, they capitulate, preferring to follow rather than be crushed or remain in the middle of the road in the shadows. Now, we in the Philippines are at least two centuries behind the chariot: we are barely beginning to emerge from the Middle Ages; that is why the Jesuits, who are a step backward in Europe, seen from here, represent progress. The Philippines owes to them its nascent instruction, the natural sciences, the soul of the 19th century, as scholasticism, already dead despite Leo XIII, owes to the Dominicans. There is no pope to resurrect what common sense has condemned… « But where have we gone? » he asked, changing his tone. « Ah! We were speaking of the current state of the Philippines… Yes, now we are entering the period of struggle, I mean, you: our generation belongs to the night, we are leaving. » The struggle is between the past, which clings and holds fast with curses to the wavering feudal castle, and the future, whose song of triumph is heard in the distance, in the glow of a rising dawn, bringing good news from other countries… Who will fall and be buried among the rubble? The old man fell silent, and seeing that Don Filipo was looking at him thoughtfully, he smiled and replied: « I can almost guess what you are thinking.  » « Really? » « You think I may very well be mistaken, » he said, smiling sadly. « I have a fever today, and I am not infallible: homo sum et nihil humani a me alienum puto [149], said Terence. But if one may sometimes dream, why not dream pleasantly in the last hours of one’s life? And then, I have lived on nothing but dreams! You are right; I dream! Our young men think of nothing but love affairs and pleasures; they spend more time and work harder deceiving and dishonoring a young woman than thinking of the good of their country; our women, in caring for the house and family of God, forget their own; our men are only active in vice and heroic in shame; childhood awakens in darkness and routine; youth lives out its best years without an ideal, and mature age, sterile, only serves to corrupt youth by its example… I am glad to die… claudite jam rivos, pueri [150]. “Do you want some medicine?” asked Don Filipo to change the course of the conversation, which had cast a somber expression on the sick man’s face. “Those who are dying don’t need medicine; those of you who are left behind do. Tell Don Crisóstomo to visit me tomorrow, for I have some very important things to tell him. In a few days I will be leaving. The Philippines is in darkness!” After a few more minutes of conversation, Don Filipo left the sick man’s house, grave and thoughtful. Chapter 57. Quidquid latet, apparebit, Nil inultum remanebit [151]. The bell announces the evening prayer; upon hearing the religious ringing, everyone stops, leaves their occupations, and uncovers themselves. The farmer coming in from the field stops singing, stops the rhythmic gait of the carabao he is riding, and prays; The women cross themselves in the middle of the street and affectively move their lips so that no one doubts their devotion; the man stops stroking his rooster and prays the Angelus for favorable luck; in the houses, people pray aloud … every noise except the Hail Mary dissipates and falls silent. However, the priest, wearing a hat, quickly crosses the street and scandalizes many old women; and more scandal! He heads for the second lieutenant’s house. The devout women think it’s time to suspend the movement of their lips to kiss the priest’s hand, but Father Salví pays no attention to them; today he finds no pleasure in placing his bony hand on a Christian nose, and from there gently sliding it (as Doña Consolación has observed) into the bosom of a graceful young woman, who bends down to ask for his blessing. What an important matter must be preoccupying him , to forget his own interests and those of the Church! Indeed, he rushes up the stairs and knocks impatiently on the door of the second lieutenant, who appears frowning, followed by his better half, who is grinning like a damned woman. « Ah, Father Priest! I was going to see you now; you bastard…  » « I have some very important business…  » « I can’t allow them to break into my siege… I’ll shoot you if you come back!  » « That’s if you have time to live until tomorrow! » said the priest , panting, heading towards the living room. « What! Do you think that seven-month-old puppet will kill me? I’ll kick him to bits! » Father Salví stepped back and instinctively looked towards the second lieutenant’s foot. « Who are you talking about? » he asked, trembling. « Who am I supposed to talk about, if not that fool who’s challenging me with a revolver at a hundred paces? » « Ah! » breathed the priest, and added: « I have come to speak to you about a very urgent matter.  » « Leave me alone! It will be like that of the two boys! » If the light had not been oil-powered and the globe had not been so dirty, the ensign would have seen the priest’s pallor. « Today we are seriously dealing with everyone’s life! » replied the priest in a low voice. « Seriously! » repeated the ensign, turning pale. « Is that young man shooting well ? » « I’m not talking about him.  » « Then? » The friar indicated the door, which he closed in his own way, with a kick. The ensign found his hands superfluous and would have lost nothing by ceasing to be a two-handed man. A curse and a roar responded from outside. “You brute! You’ve split my forehead!” cried his wife. “Now, spill the beans!” he said calmly to the priest. The latter looked at him for a long moment; then the nasal, monotonous voice of a preacher asked: “Didn’t you see me coming running? ” “Good heavens! I thought you had diarrhea! ” “Well,” said the priest, ignoring the ensign’s rudeness, “when I fail in my duty like this, there are serious reasons for it. ” “And what else?” asked the other, stamping his foot. “Calm down! ” “Then why come in such a hurry?” The priest approached him and asked mysteriously: “Don’t you… know… anything new?” The ensign shrugged his shoulders. « You confess that you know absolutely nothing.  » « Do you want to talk to me about Elias, whom your head sacristan hid last night? » he asked. « No, I’m not talking about those stories now, » replied the priest sulkily; I’m talking about a great danger.  » « Well, b—! Come on then!  » « Well! » said the friar slowly and with a certain disdain; « you will see once again the importance we religious men have; the last lay brother is worth a regiment; so a priest… » And lowering his voice and with great mystery: « I have discovered a great conspiracy! » The ensign jumped and looked at the friar in astonishment. « A terrible and well-planned conspiracy, which is to explode this very night.  » « This very night! » exclaimed the ensign, rushing at the priest; and, running to his revolver and saber hanging on the wall, « Who shall I arrest? Who shall I arrest? » he shouted. « Calm down; there’s still time, thanks to my haste; until eight o’clock! »  » I’ll shoot them all!  » « Listen! This afternoon, a woman whose name I must not reveal (it’s a secret of confession) approached me and revealed everything. At eight o’clock they took the barracks by surprise, sacked the convent, captured the barge, and murdered all the Spaniards.  » The ensign was stunned. « The woman hasn’t told me more than this, » added the priest. « She hasn’t said more? Then I’ll arrest her!  » « I can’t allow it: the tribunal of penitence is the throne of the God of mercy.  » « There is no God and no mercy that counts! I’ll arrest her!  » « You’re losing your mind. What you should do is prepare yourself; silently arm the soldiers and ambush them ; Send me four guards to the convent and warn those on the barge. « The barge isn’t here! I’m asking the other sections for help!  » « No, then it’ll be obvious, and they won’t follow what they’re plotting. What matters is that we catch them alive and make them sing—I mean, you’ll make them sing; as a priest, I shouldn’t interfere in these matters. Pay attention! You can earn crosses and stars here; I only ask that you make it clear that I’m the one who warned you.  » « It’ll be on record, Father, it’ll be on record, and perhaps you’ll get a mitre! » replied the radiant second lieutenant, looking down at the sleeves of his uniform. « So you’re sending me four guards in disguise, eh? Be discreet! Tonight at eight it’ll be raining stars and crosses. » While this was happening, a man was running down the road that led to Crisóstomo’s house and quickly climbed the stairs. « Is the gentleman in? » Elias’s voice asks the servant. « He’s in his office working.  » Ibarra, to distract his impatience while waiting for the time when he could have explanations with Maria Clara, had started working in his laboratory. « Oh, is it you, Elias? » he exclaimed; « I was thinking of you: yesterday I had forgotten to ask you the name of that Spaniard in whose house your grandfather lived.  » « It’s not about me, sir…  » « Look, » Ibarra continued, not noticing the young man’s agitation and holding a piece of cane to the flame; « I have made a great discovery: this  » Cane is fireproof…  » « It’s not about the cane now, sir; it’s about gathering your papers and fleeing in a minute. » Ibarra looked at Elías in surprise and, seeing the seriousness of his expression, dropped the object he was holding. « Burn everything that could compromise you and, within the hour, find yourselves in a safer place.  » « And why? » he asked finally. « Make sure that everything you have that’s most precious is safe…  » « And why?  » « Burn every paper written by you or for you: the most innocent can be misinterpreted…  » « But why?  » « Why? Because I’ve just discovered a conspiracy attributed to you to destroy you.  » « A conspiracy? And who’s plotting it?  » « It has been impossible for me to discover the name of its author; just now I spoke with one of the unfortunate men paid to do so, and whom I have been unable to dissuade.  » « And hasn’t he told you who is paying him?  » « Yes, demanding that I keep it a secret, he told me it was you.  » « My God! » Ibarra exclaimed, and was terrified. « Sir, don’t doubt it, let’s not waste time, the conspiracy may break out tonight!  » Ibarra, with his eyes wide open and his hands on his head, seemed not to hear him. « The coup can’t be prevented, » Elías continued. « I arrived late, I don’t know the leaders… save yourselves, sir, stay for your country!  » « Where can I flee? They’re waiting for me tonight! » Ibarra exclaimed, thinking of María Clara. « To some other town, to Manila, to the house of some authority, but somewhere else, so that it can’t be said that you were leading the movement!  » « And what if I myself denounce the conspiracy? » « You denounce! » exclaimed Elías, looking at him and stepping back. « You would be considered a traitor and a coward in the eyes of the conspirators, and a coward in the eyes of the others. One would say that you had set a trap for them to gain merit, one would say…  » « But what can you do? » « I already told you: destroy all the papers you have that relate to your person, flee, and await the events…  » « And María Clara? » exclaimed the young man. « No, rather die! » Elías wrung his hands and said: « Well then, at least avoid the blow, prepare yourselves for when they accuse you!  » Ibarra looked around him in a stunned gesture. « Then help me; there in those folders I have the letters from my family; choose those from my father, because they are the ones that could perhaps compromise me. Read the signatures. » And the young man, dazed and bewildered, opened and closed drawers, gathered papers, read letters quickly, tore some, put others away, took out books, leafed through them, etc. Elías did the same, although with less disorder but with equal zeal; but suddenly he stopped, his eyes widened, he turned over a piece of paper in his hand and asked in a trembling voice: « Did your family know Don Pedro Eibarramendía?  » « I believe so! » replied Ibarra, opening a drawer and taking out a pile of paper; « he was my great-grandfather!  » « Your great-grandfather Don Pedro Eibarramendía? » Elías asked again , pale and with altered features. « Yes, » Ibarra answered distractedly; « we shortened the surname, because it was too long.  » « Was he Basque? » repeated Elías, approaching him. “Vascongado, what’s wrong with you?” he asks, surprised. Elías makes a fist, presses it against his forehead, and looks at Crisóstomo, who steps back upon reading the expression on his face. “Do you know who Don Pedro Eibarramendía was?” he asks through gritted teeth. “Don Pedro Eibarramendía was that wretch who slandered my grandfather and caused all our misfortune… I was looking for his last name, God has given you over to me… tell me about our misfortunes!” Crisóstomo looked at him in terror, but Elías shook him by the arm and said in a bitter voice roaring with hatred: “Look at me carefully, see if I have suffered, and you live, you love, you have fortune, a home, consideration, you live… you live!” And out of his mind, he ran toward a small collection of weapons, but no sooner had he pulled out two daggers than he dropped them and stared madly at Ibarra, who remained motionless. « What could I do? » he muttered, and fled from the house. Chapter 58. THE CATASTROPHE Over in the dining room, Captain Tiago, Linares, and Aunt Isabel are dining; from the living room, the sound of plates and cutlery can be heard. María Clara has said she has no appetite and has sat down at the piano, accompanied by the cheerful Sinang, who murmurs mysterious phrases in her ear, while Father Salví paces restlessly from one end of the room to the other. It’s not that the convalescent woman isn’t hungry, no; it’s that she’s waiting for someone to arrive and has taken advantage of the moment when her Argos can’t be present: the hour of dinner for Linares. « You’ll see how that ghost stays until eight, » murmurs Sinang, pointing to the priest; « he should come at eight. » He’s as in love as Linares. María Clara looked at her friend in terror. Without noticing, she continued her terrible conversation: « Ah! Now I know why he doesn’t go out despite my hints: he doesn’t want to waste electricity in the convent! You know? Ever since you fell ill, the two lamps I had lit have gone out again… But look at his eyes and that face! » At that moment, the clock in the house struck eight. The priest shuddered and went to sit in a corner. « He’s coming! » said Sinang, pinching María Clara. « Do you hear? » The church bell rang eight, and everyone got up to pray. Father Salví offered prayers in a weak, trembling voice, but since everyone had their own thoughts, no one paid attention . As soon as the prayers were finished, Ibarra appeared. The young man was wearing mourning not only on his clothes but also on his face, so much so that, upon seeing him, María Clara stood up and took a step toward him as if to ask what was wrong, but at the same instant a volley of rifle fire was heard. Ibarra stops, his eyes roll, he loses his words. The priest hides behind a pillar. New shots, new detonations are heard from the side of the convent, followed by shouts and running. Captain Tiago, Aunt Isabel, and Linares rush in, shouting « Tulisán, tulisán! » Andeng follows them, brandishing the spit and running toward his foster sister. Aunt Isabel falls to her knees and weeps and prays the kyrie eleyson; Captain Tiago, pale and trembling, carries a hen’s liver on a fork, which he weepingly offers to the Virgin of Antipolo; Linares has his mouth full and is armed with a spoon; Sinang and María Clara embraced; the only one who remained motionless, as if petrified, was Crisóstomo, whose pallor was indescribable. The shouts and blows continued, the windows slammed shut , and a whistle could be heard, a shot every now and then. « Christe eleyson! Santiago, the prophecy is being fulfilled… close the windows! » wailed Aunt Isabel. « Fifty large bombs with two Masses of Grace! » replied Captain Tiago; « ora pro nobis! » Little by little, a terrible silence returned… The second lieutenant’s voice could be heard running up, shouting: « Father Priest! Father Salví! Come here!  » « Miserere! The second lieutenant asks for confession! » cried Aunt Isabel. « Is the second lieutenant wounded? » Linares finally asked; « ah! And now she noticed that he hadn’t even swallowed what was in his mouth. « Father, come here! There’s nothing left to fear! » the ensign continued shouting. Fra Salví, pale, finally makes up his mind, comes out of his hiding place, and goes down the stairs. « The tulisanes have killed the ensign! María, Sinang, to the room; barricade the door tightly! Kyrie eleyson!  » Ibarra also went to the stairs, despite Aunt Isabel, who said: « Don’t go out, you haven’t confessed, don’t go out!  » The good old woman had been a close friend of his mother. But Ibarra left the house; it seemed to him that everything revolved around him, that he was missing the ground. His ears were ringing, his legs moved heavily and unevenly: waves of blood, light, and darkness followed one another across his retina. Despite the moon shining brightly in the sky, the young man stumbled over the stones and timbers in the lonely, deserted street. Near the barracks, he saw soldiers with fixed bayonets talking loudly, so he went unnoticed. In the courtroom, blows, shouts, groans, and curses could be heard: the second lieutenant’s voice stood out and dominated everything. « In the stocks! Handcuffs! Two shots for anyone who moves! Sergeant, you’ll stand guard! No one’s walking around today, not even God! Captain, there’s no need to sleep! » Ibarra hurried toward his house; his servants waited anxiously for him. « Saddle the best horse and go to sleep! » he told them. He entered his study and hurriedly tried to pack a suitcase. He opened an iron box, took out all the money there, and put it in a sack. He gathered his jewelry, took down a portrait of María Clara, and, arming himself with a dagger and two revolvers, went to a closet where he kept his tools. At that moment, three sharp, loud knocks sounded at the door. « Who’s there? » Ibarra asked in a gloomy voice. « Open up in the name of the King, open up at once, or we’ll break down the door! » an imperious voice answered in Spanish. Ibarra looked toward the window; his eyes flashed, and he cocked his revolver; but, changing his mind, he laid down his weapons and went to open it himself just as the servants approached. Three guards seized him instantly. « Give yourself up in the name of the King! » said the sergeant. « Why?  » « They’ll tell you there; we’re forbidden to say so. » The young man reflected for a moment, and perhaps not wanting the soldiers to discover his preparations for escape, he took a hat and said: « I am at your disposal! I suppose it will be for a few hours.  » « If you promise not to escape, we will not tie you up; the ensign is doing you this favor; but if you flee… » Ibarra followed them, leaving his servants dismayed. In the meantime, what had become of Elías? Upon leaving Crisóstomo’s house, he ran like a madman, not knowing where he was going . He crossed the fields and reached the forest in a violent agitation; he fled from the town, he fled from the light; the moon bothered him; he entered the mysterious shadows of the trees. There, sometimes stopping, sometimes walking along unknown paths, leaning against ancient tree trunks, tangling in the undergrowth, he looked down at the village below, bathed in the moonlight, stretched out on the plain, nestled against the sea. Birds, awakened from their slumber, flew about; gigantic bats, owls, and screeches flitted from branch to branch with shrill cries, staring at him with their round eyes. Elijah neither heard nor noticed them. He thought he was being followed by the angry shadows of his ancestors; on every branch he saw the fateful basket containing Balat’s bloody head, just as his father had told him; he thought he stumbled upon the dead old woman at the foot of every tree; he thought he saw the foul skeleton of his infamous grandfather swaying among the shadows… and the skeleton, the old woman, and the head all cried out at him: « Coward, coward! » Elijah abandoned the mountain, fled, and went down to the sea, to the beach he was walking on in agitation. But far away, in the middle of the waters, where the moonlight seemed to raise a mist, he thought he saw a shadow rising and swaying, the shadow of his sister, her chest covered in blood, her loose hair scattered in the air. Elijah fell to his knees on the sand. « You too! » he murmured, stretching out his arms. But, with his gaze fixed on the mist, he slowly got up, walked forward , and entered the water as if following someone. He walked along that gentle slope formed by the bar; he was already far from the shore, the water reached his waist, and he continued, continued as if fascinated by a seductive spirit. The water now reached his chest… but the volley of rifle fire resounds, the vision disappears, and the young man He returns to reality. Thanks to the quiet of the night and the greater density of the air, the explosions reach him clearly and distinctly. He stops, reflects, realizes he’s in the water; the lake is calm, and he can still make out the lights on the fishermen’s huts. He returns to the shore and heads for the village. Why? He himself doesn’t know. The village seemed uninhabited; the houses were all closed; even the animals, the dogs that usually bark during the night, have hidden fearfully. The silvery moonlight increased the sadness and loneliness. Fearing he might encounter the Civil Guards, he ventured into the orchards and gardens, in one of which he thought he saw two human figures. But he continued on his way and, jumping over fences and walls, reached with great difficulty the other end of the town, heading for Crisóstomo’s house. The servants were standing at the door, discussing and lamenting their master’s imprisonment. Upon learning what had happened, Elías left, went around the house, jumped over the wall, climbed through the window, and entered the study, where the candle Ibarra had left was still burning. Elías saw the papers and books; he found the weapons and the small bags containing the money and jewelry. He reconstructed in his mind what had happened there, and seeing so many potentially compromising papers, he considered gathering them up, throwing them out the window, and burying them. He glanced at the garden, and in the moonlight saw two Civil Guards approaching with an assistant: their bayonets and helmets gleamed in the darkness. Then he made a decision: he piled clothes and papers in the middle of the study, poured a kerosene lamp on top, and lit it. He hurriedly strapped on his weapons, saw the portrait of María Clara, hesitated … he put it in one of the little bags, and, taking them, jumped out the window. It was time; the Civil Guards were forcing their way in. « Let us go up to get your master’s papers! » said the little director. « Do you have permission? If not, you won’t get in, » said an old man. The soldiers pushed them back with rifle butt blows and went upstairs … but thick smoke filled the whole house and gigantic flames burst from the living room, licking at the doors and windows. « Fire! Fire! Fire! » they all shouted. Everyone rushed to save whatever they could, but the fire had reached the small laboratory and the flammable materials were exploding . The Civil Guards had to retreat; their way was blocked by the blaze, which roared and swept away everything it found. Water was drawn in vain from the well; Everyone screams, everyone cries for help, but they are isolated. The fire spreads to the other rooms and rises to the sky, raising thick spirals of smoke. The whole house is now prey to the flames; the wind, heated, increases; some peasants come from afar, but they arrive to see the terrifying bonfire, the end of that old building, so long spared by the elements. Chapter 59. WHAT IS SAID AND WHAT IS BELIEVED God finally dawned for the terrified people. The street where the barracks and the courthouse are located is still deserted and solitary; the houses show no signs of life. However, the wooden sash of a window opens with a bang, and a child’s head appears, turning in all directions, stretching its neck, and looking in all directions… Clap! The noise announces the abrupt contact of tanned hide against fresh human flesh; the child’s mouth makes a grimace, his eyes close, he disappears, and the window closes again . The example has been given; that opening and closing has undoubtedly been heard, because another window opens slowly, and the head of an old woman, wrinkled and toothless, cautiously peeks out: it is the same Sister Putê who caused such a stir while Father Dámaso was preaching. Children and old women are the representatives of curiosity on earth: the former for their desire to know, the latter for their desire to remember. Surely no one would dare to give her a slap, for she stands there, stares into the distance, furrowing her eyebrows, rinses her mouth, spits loudly, and then crosses herself. The house across the street also timidly opens a window and admits Sister Rufa, who doesn’t want to deceive or be deceived. The two look at each other for a moment, smile, make signs, and cross themselves again. « Jesus! It looked like a Mass, a castle! » says Sister Rufa. « Since Bálat sacked the village, I haven’t seen another night like it, » replies Sister Putê. « So many shots! They say it’s old Pablo’s party.  » « Tulisanes? It can’t be! They say it’s the squadrons against the civilians. That’s why Don Filipo is in prison.  » « Holy cow! They say there are at least fourteen dead. » Other windows were opening, and different faces appeared, exchanging greetings and making comments. In the light of day, which promised to be splendid, soldiers could be seen in the distance, coming and going, confusedly, like ashen silhouettes. « There goes another dead man! » said one from a window. « One? I see two.  » « And I… but anyway, don’t you know what it was? » asked a man with a sarcastic face. « Yes! The squad members.  » « No, sir; an uprising in the barracks!  » « What uprising? The priest against the second lieutenant?  » « Well, nothing of the sort, » said the one who had asked the question; « it’s the Chinese people who have rebelled.  » And he closed his window again. « The Chinese people! » they all repeated with the greatest astonishment. « That’s why you can’t see any of them!  » « They must all have died. » « I already suspected they were going to do something bad. Yesterday…  » « I already saw it. Last night…  » « What a pity! » said Sister Rufa; « they all die before Easter, when they come with their gifts… They should have waited until the New Year… » The street gradually became more lively: first it was the dogs, chickens, pigs, and pigeons that tried to get through; these animals were followed by some ragged children, arm in arm and timidly approaching the barracks; then some old women, with their headscarves tied under their beards, a thick rosary in their hands, pretending to pray that the soldiers would let them pass . When it was seen that they could walk without being shot, then the men began to come out, affecting indifference. At first, their walks were limited to in front of their house, stroking the rooster; then they tried to lengthen them, stopping from time to time, and so they came right up to in front of the tribunal. Within a quarter of an hour, other versions circulated. Ibarra and his servants had tried to rob María Clara, and Captain Tiago had defended her, aided by the Civil Guard. The death toll was no longer fourteen, but thirty; Captain Tiago was wounded and is leaving immediately with his family for Manila. The arrival of two patrolmen, carrying a human figure on a litter, followed by a Civil Guard, caused a great sensation. It was understood that they were coming from the convent; from the shape of the dangling feet , one guessed who it could be; a little further on, it was said that it was; further on, the death toll multiplied, and the mystery of the Holy Trinity was fulfilled ; then the miracle of the loaves and fishes was renewed , and the death toll now reached thirty-eight. At seven-thirty, when other Civil Guards arrived from neighboring towns, the version circulating was already clear and detailed. « I’ve just come from the tribunal, where I saw Don Filipo and Don Crisóstomo imprisoned, » a man was saying to Sister Putê; « I’ve spoken with one of the guards on guard. Well, Bruno, the son of the man who was beaten to death, declared everything last night. As you know, Captain Tiago is marrying his daughter to the young Spaniard; Don Crisóstomo, offended, wanted revenge and tried to kill all the Spaniards, even the priest; last night they attacked the barracks and the convent; and fortunately, by the mercy of God, the priest was at Captain Tiago’s house. They say that many escaped. The Civil Guards burned Don Crisóstomo’s house, and if they don’t arrest him first, they’ll burn him too. « They burned the house?  » « All the servants are imprisoned. See how the smoke can still be seen from here! » says the narrator, approaching the window; « those who come from there tell very sad things. » They all look toward the indicated place: a light column of smoke was still slowly rising to the sky. They all make comments more or less pious, more or less accusatory. « Poor young man! » exclaims an old man, Putê’s husband. « Yes! » she answers; « but look, yesterday he didn’t order a mass to be said for his father’s soul, who undoubtedly needs it more than the others.  » « But, woman, don’t you have compassion? » « Compassion for the excommunicated? It’s a sin to have compassion for the enemies of God, say the priests. » Do you remember? In the cemetery, he walked like he was in a corral! « But the corral and the cemetery are similar, » the old man replies; « only only animals of one kind enter there…  » « Come on! » Sister Putê shouts at him; « you’re still going to defend the one God so clearly punishes. You’ll see how they’ll arrest you too. Hold up a house that’s falling down!  » The husband fell silent at this argument. « Come on! » the old woman continues; « after beating Father Dámaso, there was nothing left for him but to kill Father Salví.  » « But you can’t deny that he was good when he was a boy.  » « Yes, he was good, » the old woman replies; « but he went to Spain; all those who go to Spain become heretics, the priests have said. » « Oy! » retorted the husband, who had seen her revenge; « and the priest, and all the priests, and the archbishop, and the Pope, and the Virgin, aren’t they from Spain? Abá! Are they also heretics? Abá! » Fortunately for Sister Putê, the arrival of a maid, running up, all flustered and pale, cut short the discussion. « A hanged man in the neighbor’s garden! » she gasped. « A hanged man! » everyone exclaimed, filled with amazement. The women crossed themselves; no one could move from their place. « Yes, sir, » continued the trembling maid; « I was going to pick peas … I looked at the neighbor’s garden to see if he was there… I saw a man swaying; I thought it was Teo, the servant, who always gives me… » I went over to… pick peas, and I saw that it wasn’t him but someone else, a dead man. » I run, I run and… « Let’s go see him, » said the old man, getting up; « lead us.  » « Don’t go! » cried Sister Putê, grabbing him by the shirt;  » a misfortune is going to befall you! Has he hanged himself? So much the worse for him!  » « Let me see him, woman; go to the tribunal, Juan, and report it; perhaps he isn’t dead yet.  » And he went to the garden, followed by the maid, who was hiding behind him; the women and Sister Putê herself were coming up behind, full of fear and curiosity. « There he is, sir, » said the maid, stopping and pointing with her finger. The committee halted at a respectable distance, leaving the old man to advance alone. A human body, hanging from the branch of a santol tree [152], was swaying gently, driven by the breeze. The old man watched it for some time; he saw those stiff feet, the arms, the stained clothes, the bowed head. « We mustn’t touch him until justice is served, » she said aloud . « He’s already stiff; he’s been dead for a long time.  » The women approached little by little. « It’s the neighbor who lived in that little house, the one who arrived two weeks ago; look at the scar on his face.  » « Hail Mary! » some of the women exclaimed. « Shall we pray for his soul? » asked a young woman after she had finished looking and examining him. « Fool, heretic! » Sister Putê scolded her. « Don’t you know what Father Damaso said? It’s tempting God to pray for a condemned man; he who commits suicide is irremissibly damned; that’s why he isn’t buried in a sacred place.  » And she added: « I thought that man was going to come to a bad end; I was never able to find out how he made a living.  » « I saw him speak to the head sacristan twice, » a young woman observed. « It wouldn’t be time to confess or order a Mass! » The neighbors came, and a large circle surrounded the body, which was still swaying. Half an hour later, a bailiff, the director, and two constables arrived; they took it down and placed it on a stretcher. « People are in a hurry to die, » laughed the director, while removing the feather he had above his ear. He asked his leading questions, took a statement from the maid, whom he tried to entangle, sometimes looking at her with evil eyes, sometimes threatening her, sometimes attributing to her words she hadn’t said, so much so that she, believing she was going to prison, began to cry and ended by declaring that she wasn’t looking for peas, but… and he brought out Teo as a witness. Meanwhile, a peasant wearing a wide salakot and a large patch around his neck was examining the body and the rope. The face was no more bruised than the rest of the body; Above the ligature were two scratches and two small bruises or ecchymoses; the abrasions caused by the rope were white and bloodless. The curious peasant examined the shirt and trousers carefully and noticed that they were covered in dust and freshly stained personae in some places; but what caught his attention most were the seeds of dried amores [153] stuck even to the collar of the shirt. « What are you looking at? » the little director asked him. « I was seeing, sir, if I could recognize him, » he stammered, half uncovering his head, that is, lowering his salakot further. « Haven’t you heard it’s a certain Lucas? Are you sleeping? » They all burst out laughing. The peasant, embarrassed, uttered a few words and walked slowly away, head down. « Hey! Where are you going? » the old man shouted at him. « That’s the way out; that’s the way to the dead man’s house! » « The man is still asleep! » said the little conductor mockingly; « we’ll have to throw water on him. » The bystanders laughed again. The peasant left the place where he had played such a bad role and went to the church. In the vestry, he asked for the head sexton. « He’s still asleep! » they answered rudely. « Don’t you know the convent was looted last night?  » « I’ll wait for him to wake up. » The sextons looked at him with the rudeness typical of people accustomed to being ill-treated. In a corner, which remained in the shadows, the one-eyed man slept in a long chair. His glasses were perched on his forehead among his long locks of hair; his chest, thin and emaciated, was bare and rose and fell regularly. The peasant sat down nearby, ready to wait patiently, but a coin fell from his hand and, aided by a candle, he went to look for it under the head sexton’s chair. The peasant also notices the seeds of dried love on the trousers and shirtsleeves of the sleeper , who finally awakens, rubs his one good eye, and rather ill-humoredly rebukes the man. « I wanted to order a Mass to be said, sir! » he replies apologetically. « All the Masses are over, » the one-eyed man then says, softening his accent a little; « if you want it tomorrow… Is it for the souls in Purgatory?  » « No, sir, » the peasant replies, giving him a peso. And looking him fixedly in the one eye, he added: « It’s for a person who is soon to die. » And he left the sacristy. « I could have caught him last night! » he said, sighing, as he removed the patch and straightened up to recover the face and stature of Elijah. Chapter 60. Væ Victis! My joy in a well. Some Civil Guards saunter sinisterly past the court door, threatening with the butts of their rifles the daring kids, who stand on tiptoe or charge at each other to see something through the bars. The courtroom no longer presents the cheerful appearance it had when the festival program was being discussed; now it is somber and unsettling. The Civil Guards and the patrolmen who occupy it barely speak. and even in a low voice, uttering a few words. The director, two clerks, and some soldiers are scribbling papers on the table; the second lieutenant paces back and forth, occasionally glancing fiercely toward the door; Themistocles could not have appeared more proud at the Olympic Games after the Battle of Salamis. Doña Consolación yawns in a corner, showing black jaws and uneven teeth; her cold, sinister gaze is fixed on the prison door, covered with indecent figures. She had persuaded her husband, whom victory had made amiable, to allow her to witness the interrogation and perhaps the ensuing torture. The hyena was sniffing at the corpse, licking its lips, and bored by the delay of the ordeal. The governor is very contrite: his chair, that large chair placed beneath His Majesty’s portrait, is empty and seems destined for someone else. Around nine o’clock, the priest arrives, pale and frowning. « Well, you haven’t kept us waiting! » the ensign told him. « I’d rather not attend, » Father Salví replied in a low voice, ignoring that bitter tone; « I’m very nervous. » « Since no one came so as not to leave their post, I judged that your presence… You know that they’re leaving this afternoon.  » « Young Ibarra and the lieutenant major… » The ensign pointed toward the jail. « Eight are there, » he said; « Bruno died at midnight, but his statement is already recorded. » The priest pointed to Doña Consolación, who responded with a yawn and an « aah! » and sat in the armchair beneath His Majesty’s portrait. « We can begin! » she replied. « Take out the two who are in the stocks! » the ensign ordered in a voice that tried to make it as terrible as possible, and turning to the priest, he added, changing his tone: « They’re stuck jumping over two holes! » For those unfamiliar with these instruments of torture, the stocks are one of the most innocent. The holes into which the prisoners’ legs are inserted are spaced a little more than a hand’s width apart; by jumping two holes, the prisoner would find himself in a somewhat awkward position, with a peculiar discomfort in the ankles and an opening in the lower extremities of more than a yard’s width. It does not kill instantly, as one might well imagine. The jailer, followed by four soldiers, removed the bolt and opened the door. A nauseating odor and thick, damp air escaped from the dense darkness, while some moans and sobs were heard. A soldier lit a match, but the flame went out in the stale, corrupt atmosphere, and they had to wait for the air to clear. In the vague light of a candle, several human forms could be seen: men clasping their knees and burying their heads in them, lying face down , standing, facing the wall, etc. A banging and grinding noise was heard, accompanied by oaths: the stocks were being opened. Doña Consolación was half-leaning forward, her neck muscles stretched out, her bulging eyes fixed on the half-open door. Between two soldiers, a shadowy figure emerged, Társilo, Bruno’s brother . He held handcuffs in his hands; his torn clothes revealed well-developed muscles. His eyes insolently fixed on the second lieutenant’s wife. « This is the one who defended himself most bravely and ordered his companions to flee, » the second lieutenant said to Father Salví. Behind him came another of wretched appearance, wailing and crying like a child; he limped and his trousers were stained with blood. « Mercy, sir, mercy! I will never enter the courtyard again! » he shouted. « He’s a scoundrel, » the ensign observed, speaking to the priest; « he tried to flee, but he was wounded in the thigh. These two are the only ones we have alive.  » « What is your name? » the ensign asked Társilo. « Társilo Alasigan.  » « What did Don Crisóstomo promise you to make you attack the barracks?  » « Don Crisóstomo has never communicated with us. » « Don’t deny it! That’s why you wanted to surprise us.  » « You’re wrong: you beat our father to death. Let’s avenge him, and nothing more. Look for your two companions.  » The ensign looked at the sergeant in surprise. « They’re over there on a cliff, we threw them down there yesterday, they’ll rot there. Now kill me: you’ll know nothing more.  » There was a moment of silence. « You’re going to tell us who your other accomplices are, » the ensign uttered, brandishing a vine. A smile of contempt appeared on the prisoner’s lips. The ensign conferred for a few moments, in a low voice, with the priest; and turning to the soldiers, « Take him to where the bodies are! » he ordered. In a corner of the courtyard, on an old cart , five corpses were piled up, half covered by a piece of filth -strewn straw matting. A soldier paced from one end to the other, spitting constantly. « Do you know them? » asked the ensign, lifting the matting. Társilo didn’t reply; he saw the corpse of the madwoman’s husband with two others: that of his brother, riddled with bayonets, and that of Lucas, still with the rope around his neck. His gaze turned somber, and a sigh seemed to escape his chest. « Do you know them? » they asked him again. Társilo remained silent. A hissing sound rent the air, and the vine lashed at his back. He shuddered, his muscles contracted. The vines were whipped repeatedly, but Társilo remained impassive. « Let them beat him until he bursts or declares! » shouted the ensign, exasperated. « Speak up! » said the little director; « they’ll kill you anyway. » They led him back to the room where the other prisoner was invoking the saints, his teeth chattering and his legs buckling. « Do you know him? » asked Father Salví. « This is the first time I’ve seen him! » replied Társilo, looking at the other with some compassion. The ensign punched him and kicked him. « Tie him to the bench! » Without removing the blood-stained handcuffs, he was secured to a wooden bench. The unfortunate man looked around as if searching for something and saw Doña Consolación; he laughed sarcastically. Surprised, those present followed his gaze and saw the lady, who was lightly biting her lip. “I have never seen an uglier woman!” exclaimed Tarsilo amid the general silence. “I prefer to lie on a bench, as I am, than beside her, like the ensign.” The Muse turned pale. “You will beat me to death, Sire Ensign,” she continued. “Tonight your wife will avenge me by embracing you. ” “Gag her!” cried the ensign, trembling with rage. It seemed that Tarsilo only wanted the gag, because when he had it, his eyes shot out a ray of satisfaction. At a signal from the ensign, a guard, armed with a vine, began his sad task. Tarsilo’s whole body contracted; a muffled, prolonged roar was heard despite the cloth that covered his mouth; he lowered his head: his clothes were stained with blood. Father Salví, pale, his gaze vacant, stood up with difficulty, signaled with his hand, and left the room with a hesitant step. In the street, he saw a young woman leaning with her back against the wall, rigid, motionless, listening attentively, staring into space, her clenched hands extended against the old wall. The sun bathed her fully. She counted, apparently without breathing, the dull, sharp blows and that heartbreaking moan. It was Társilo’s sister. Meanwhile, the scene continued in the room: the unfortunate man, exhausted by pain, fell silent and waited for his executioners to tire. Finally, the panting soldier dropped his arm, and the second lieutenant, pale with anger and astonishment, signaled for him to be untied. Doña Consolación then stood up and whispered a few words in her husband’s ear. He nodded his head in a sign of understanding. « Down with him! » he said. The Filipinos know what this means; in Tagalog they translate it as timbaín [154]. We do not know who invented it. This procedure, but we judge it must be quite ancient. Truth, emerging from a well, is perhaps its sarcastic interpretation. In the middle of the courthouse courtyard rises the picturesque curb of a well, crudely made of living stones. A rustic lever-shaped reed device is used to draw water, viscous, dirty, and foul-smelling. Personal rubbish, garbage, and other liquids were collected there, for that well was like a prison; it housed everything society discarded or deemed useless; anything that fell in, however good it may have been, was already lost. However, it was never blinded: sometimes prisoners were condemned to dig deeper and deeper, not because they thought they would gain any use from that punishment, but because of the difficulties the work presented: a prisoner who had descended there, once caught a fever from which he almost always died. Tarsilo watched all the soldiers’ preparations with a fixed gaze; he was very pale, and his lips trembled or murmured a prayer. The haughtiness of his despair seemed to have disappeared , or at least weakened. Several times he bent his erect neck and fixed his gaze on the ground, resigned to suffering. They took him to the side of the wellhead, followed by Doña Consolación, who was smiling. The unfortunate man cast an envious glance toward the pile of corpses, and a sigh escaped his chest. « Speak up! » the director repeated. « They’ll hang you anyway ; at least you’ll die without having suffered so much.  » « You’ll come out of here to die, » a policeman told him. They removed the gag and hung him by his feet. He had to descend headfirst and remain underwater for some time, the same as they do with the bucket, only they give men more time. The ensign went away to look for a clock and count the minutes. Meanwhile, Társilo hung, his long hair waving in the air; his eyes were half closed. « If you are Christians, if you have a heart, » he murmured pleadingly , « bring me down quickly, or make my head hit the wall and die. God will reward you for this good deed… perhaps one day you will see yourselves like me!  » The ensign returned and presided over the descent, watch in hand. « Slowly, slowly! » shouted Doña Consolación, following the unfortunate man with her eyes; « careful! » The lever was lowered slowly, Társilo scraping against the protruding stones and the filthy plants growing between the cracks. Then the lever stopped moving: the ensign was counting the seconds. « Up! » he ordered curtly after half a minute. The silvery, harmonious sound of the drops of water falling on the water announced the prisoner’s return to the light. This time, since the weight of the seesaw was greater, it rose quickly. Rocks and pebbles, torn from the walls, fell with a crash. His forehead and hair covered in disgusting mud, his face covered in wounds and abrasions, his body wet and dripping, he appeared before the eyes of the silent crowd; the wind made him shiver with cold. « Do you want to testify? » they asked him. « Take care of my sister! » murmured the unfortunate man, looking pleadingly at a patrolman. The tiller creaked again, and the condemned man disappeared . Doña Consolación observed that the water remained calm. The second lieutenant counted a minute. When Társilo climbed back up, his features were drawn and bruised. He glanced at those present and kept his bloodshot eyes open. « Are you going to testify? » the second lieutenant asked again, dejectedly. Társilo shook his head, and they lowered him back down. Her eyelids were closing, her pupils still staring up at the sky where white clouds floated; she craned her neck to continue seeing the daylight, but soon she had to sink into the water, and that infamous curtain hid the spectacle of the world from her. A minute passed; the Muse, watching, saw thick air bubbles rising to the surface. « He’s thirsty! » she said, laughing. And the water became calm again. This time it lasted a minute and a half, and the second lieutenant made a sign. Társilo’s features were no longer contorted; his half-open eyelids revealed the white back of his eye; muddy water streaked with blood flowed from his mouth; the cold wind blew, but his body no longer shuddered. Everyone stared at each other in silence, pale and dismayed. The second lieutenant signaled for him to be taken down and walked away thoughtfully. Doña Consolación repeatedly touched the fire button of her cigar to his bare legs, but his body didn’t shudder, and the fire went out. « He’s suffocated himself! » murmured a guard. « Look how his tongue has turned as if trying to swallow it.  » The other prisoner watched the scene, trembling and sweating; he looked everywhere like a madman. The ensign ordered the little director to interrogate him. “Sir, sir!” he groaned; “I’ll say whatever you want! ” “Well! Let’s see: what’s your name? ” “Andong [155], sir! ” “Bernardo… Leonardo… Ricardo… Eduardo… Gerardo… or what? ” “Andong, sir!” repeated the official. “Call him Bernardo or something,” decided the ensign. “A surname?” The man looked at him in horror. “What’s your name? What do they add to Andong? ” “Ah, sir! Andong! You’re half-witted, sir!” The bystanders couldn’t contain their laughter; the ensign himself stopped pacing. “Occupation?” “Coconut pruner, sir, and servant to my mother-in-law. ” “Who ordered you to attack the barracks?” “No one, sir! ” “How come no one?” Don’t lie, or they’ll throw you in the pit! Who sent you? Tell the truth! « The truth, sir!  » « Who?  » « Who, sir!  » « I ask you, who sent you to make the revolution?  » « What revolution, sir?  » « That’s because you were in the barracks courtyard last night.  » « Ah, sir! » Andong exclaimed, blushing. « Who, then, is to blame for that?  » « My mother-in-law, sir! » A burst of laughter greeted these words. The ensign stopped and looked with mild eyes at the poor fellow, who, believing that his words had had a good effect, continued more cheerfully: « Yes, sir: my mother-in-law gives me nothing to eat but everything rotten and useless. Last night, when I came, my stomach hurt, I saw the barracks courtyard nearby, and I said to myself: It’s nighttime, no one will see you. » I entered… and as I stood up, many shots rang out; I was tying my breeches… A vine cut him off. « To jail! » ordered the ensign; « this afternoon to the Cabecera with him! » Chapter 61. THE DAMNED. The news that the prisoners were about to leave soon spread through the town; at first it was heard with terror, then came weeping and wailing. The families of the prisoners ran like mad: they went from the convent to the barracks, from the barracks to the tribunal, and finding no comfort anywhere, they filled the air with screams and groans. The priest had shut himself in because he was ill; the ensign had increased his guards, who met the women supplicants with their rifle butts; the little governor, a useless being, seemed more foolish and more useless than ever. In front of the jail, those who still had strength ran from one end to the other ; Those who did not, sat on the ground, calling out the names of their loved ones. The sun was blazing, and none of those unfortunate women thought of retiring. Doray, the joyful and happy wife of Don Filipo, wandered about helplessly, carrying her tender son in her arms; both were crying. « Go back, » they told her; « your son is going to catch a fever.  » « Why live if he doesn’t have a father to raise him? » replied the disconsolate woman. « Your husband is innocent; perhaps he will return!  » « Yes, when we will be dead! » Captain Tinay cried and called her son Antonio; the valiant Captain María looked toward the small gate, behind which were her two children. Twins, his only children. There was the coconut pruner’s mother-in-law; she didn’t cry: she walked around, gesticulated with her sleeves rolled up, and harangued the crowd. « Have you ever seen anything like this? Arresting my Andong, shooting him, putting him in the stocks, and taking him to the head of the bed, just because… because he had new pants? This calls for revenge! The Civil Guards are abusive! I swear, if I ever find any of them looking for a secluded spot in my garden again, as has often happened, I’ll mutilate him, I’ll mutilate him! Or else… let them mutilate me! » But few people joined in the chorus with the Muslim mother-in-law. « Don Crisóstomo is to blame for all this, » a woman sighed. The schoolteacher also wandered confusedly among the crowd; Ñor Juan no longer rubs his hands, he no longer carries his plumb line or his meter stick: the man dresses like a black person, for he has heard bad news, and true to his habit of seeing the future as something that has already happened, he is already mourning the death of Ibarra. At two in the afternoon, an open cart, pulled by two oxen, stopped in front of the tribunal. The cart was surrounded by the crowd, who wanted to unhitch it and destroy it. « Don’t do that, » said Captain María; « do you want them to go on foot? » This stopped the families. Twenty soldiers got out and surrounded the vehicle. Then the prisoners appeared. The first was Don Filipo, tied up; he greeted his wife smilingly; Doray burst into bitter tears, and two guards had a hard time keeping her from embracing her husband. Antonio, Captain Tinay’s son, appeared crying like a child, which only increased the cries of his family. The officer Andong burst into tears upon seeing his mother-in-law, the cause of his misfortune. Albino, the ex-seminarian, was also tied up, as were Captain Maria’s twins. These three young men were serious and grave. The last to leave was Ibarra, free, but led between two Civil Guards. The young man was pale; he looked for a friendly face. « That’s the one who’s to blame! » shouted many voices. « That’s the one who’s to blame, and he’s free!  » « My son-in-law hasn’t done anything, and he’s in handcuffs! » Ibarra turned to his guards. « Tie me up, but tie me up tight, elbow to elbow! » he said. « We have no order!  » « Tie me up! » The soldiers obeyed. The second lieutenant appeared on horseback, armed to the teeth; he was followed by ten or fifteen other soldiers. Each prisoner had his family there, praying for him, crying for him , and calling him the most affectionate names. Ibarra was the only one who had no one; Ñor Juan himself and the schoolteacher had disappeared. « What have they done to you, my husband and my son? » Doray wept. « Look at my poor son! You’ve deprived him of his father!  » « You’re a coward! » Andong’s mother-in-law shouted at him. « While the others were fighting for you, you hid, coward!  » « Cursed you! » said an old man following him. « Cursed be the gold your family amassed to disturb our peace! Cursed! Cursed!  » « Hang you, heretic! » shouted a relative of Albino’s. Unable to contain herself, she picked up a stone and threw it at him. Her example was soon imitated, and a shower of dust and stones fell upon the unfortunate young man . Ibarra suffered impassively, without anger, without complaint, the just revenge of so many wounded hearts. That was the farewell, the goodbye from his people, where he had all his loves. He lowered his head; perhaps he thought of a man, whipped through the streets of Manila, of an old woman falling dead at the sight of her son’s head; perhaps the story of Elías passed before his eyes. The ensign thought it necessary to remove the crowd, but the stone-throwing and insults continued. Only one mother did not avenge her pain on him: Captain María. Motionless, with pursed lips, her eyes filled with silent tears, she watched her two sons walk away; her immobility and her silent pain were greater than those of the fabled Niobe. The procession moved away. Of the people peering through the rare open windows, those who showed the most compassion for the young man were the indifferent or the curious. All his friends had hidden, yes, even Captain Basilio himself, who forbade his daughter Sinang from crying. Ibarra saw the smoking ruins of his house, his parents’ house, where he had been born, where the sweetest memories of his childhood and adolescence lived. Tears, long suppressed, sprang from his eyes. He bowed his head and wept, without the consolation of being able to hide his tears, tied up as he was, or that his pain would inspire compassion in anyone. Now he had no country, no home, no love, no friends, no future! From high above, a man contemplated the funereal convoy. He was an old man, pale, gaunt, wrapped in a wool blanket, leaning wearily on a cane. It was the old philosopher Tasio, who, upon hearing the news of the event, wanted to leave his bed and go to the hospital, but his strength wouldn’t allow it. The old man followed the cart with his eyes until it disappeared in the distance. He remained thoughtful and dejected for some time, then got up and, with difficulty, made his way home, resting at every step. The next day, the shepherds found him dead on the very threshold of his solitary retreat. Chapter 62. COUNTRY AND INTERESTS. The telegraph secretly transmitted the event to Manila, and thirty -six hours later , the newspapers, augmented, corrected, and mutilated by the prosecutor, were reporting it with great mystery and no small number of threats . Meanwhile, private news emanating from the convents was the first to spread by word of mouth, in secret, and to the great terror of those who came to know. The event, distorted in a thousand versions, was believed with more or less ease depending on whether it flattered or contradicted the passions and way of thinking of each individual. Without disturbing the public tranquility, at least apparently, the peace of the home was disturbed, as in a pond: while the surface appears smooth and terse, deep down the silent fish swarm, run, and chase each other. Crosses, decorations, stripes, jobs, prestige, power, importance, dignities, etc., began to flutter like butterflies in an atmosphere of gold coins, before the eyes of one part of the population. For the other, a dark cloud rose on the horizon, standing out from its ashen background like black silhouettes, bars, chains, and even the fateful gallows pole. One thought one could hear in the air the interrogations, the sentences, the screams of torture; The Marianas and Bagumbayan were presented wrapped in a ragged and bloody veil: fishermen and fish were confused. Fate presented the event to the imagination of the Manilans like certain Chinese fans: one side painted with a black person; the other filled with gold, bright colors, birds, and flowers. The greatest excitement reigned in the convents. Carriages were being hitched, provincials visited each other, and held secret conferences. They appeared at the palaces to offer their support to the government, which was in grave danger. There was renewed talk of comets, allusions, pinpricks, etc. « A Te Deum, a Te Deum! » said a friar in a convent; « this time let no one be missing from the choir! It is no small kindness of God to show us now, precisely in such lost times, how much we are worth!  » « With this little lesson, General Mal Agüero [156] must be biting his lips , » replied another. –What would have become of him without the corporations? –And to better celebrate the feast, let them warn the brother cook and the procurator… Gaudeamus for three days! –Amen!–Amen–Long live Salví!–Long live! In another convent they spoke differently. –You see? That’s a student of the Jesuits; the filibusters come from the Athenaeum!–said a friar. –And the anti-religious ones. –I already said it: the Jesuits lose the country, they corrupt the youth; but they are tolerated because they make a few blots on the paper when there is an earthquake… « And God knows how they are made!  » « Yes, go and contradict them! When everything trembles and moves, who writes scribbles? Nothing, Father Secchi… » And they smile with sovereign contempt. « But what about the storms? And the baguios [157]? » another asks with sarcastic irony; « isn’t that divine?  » « Any fisherman can predict them! » « When the one in power is a fool… tell me what your head is like and I’ll tell you what your father is like! But you will see if friends favor one another: the newspapers are almost asking for a mitre for Father Salví.  » « And he’s going to have it! He sucks! » « Do you believe it?  » « Well, no! Today they’ll give it for anything. I know of one who got it for less; wrote a vulgar little work, showed that the indigenous people were incapable of anything other than being artisans… psh! Old vulgarities! « It’s true! So many injustices damage religion! » exclaimed another; « if mitres had eyes and could see on what skulls…  » « If mitres were objects of nature… » added another in a nasal voice. « Natura abhorret vacuum… » « That’s why they cling to them; the void attracts them! » replied another. These and other things were said in the convents, and we amuse our readers with other comments with political, metaphysical, or spicy overtones. Let us take the reader to the house of a private individual, and since we have few acquaintances in Manila, we go to the house of Captain Tinong, the entertaining man, whom we saw insistently inviting Ibarra to honor him with a visit. In the rich and spacious living room of his house in Tondo, Captain Tinong sat in a wide armchair, rubbing his hands over his forehead and the back of his neck in a gesture of disconsolation, while his wife, Captain Tinchang, wept and lectured him in front of her two daughters, who listened from a corner, mute, stunned, and moved. “Oh, Virgin of Antipolo!” cried the woman. “Oh, Virgin of the Rosary and the Belt! Oh! Oh! Our Lady of Novaliches! ” “Nanay!” replied the youngest of the daughters. “I told you so!” continued the woman in a tone of reproach; “ I told you so! Oh, Virgin of Carmen, oh!” “But you haven’t told me anything!” Captain Tinong dared to reply tearfully. “On the contrary, you were telling me that I was right to visit the house and to maintain Captain Tiago’s friendship because… because he was rich… and you told me… ” “What? What did I tell you? I didn’t tell you that, I didn’t tell you anything! Oh, if only you had listened to me! ” “Now you’re blaming me!” he retorted in a bitter tone, slapping the arm of the chair. “Didn’t you tell me that I was right to invite him to dine with us, because since he was rich… you said that we should only be friends with rich people? Abá! ” “It’s true that I told you that because… because there was no other way out: all you did was praise him; Don Ibarra here, Don Ibarra there, Don Ibarra everywhere, abaá!” But I didn’t advise you to see him or speak to him at that meeting; you can’t deny that. « Did I know he was going there, by any chance?  » « Well, you should have known!  » « How, I didn’t even know him?  » « Well, you should have known him!  » « But, Tinchang, it was the first time I’d seen him, heard of him!
 » « Well, you should have seen him before, heard of him! You’re a man, you wear trousers and read El Diario de Manila! » his wife replied imperturbably, giving him a terrible look. Captain Tinong didn’t know what to reply. Captain Tinchang, not content with this victory, wanted to annihilate him, and approaching with her fists clenched: « Is this what I have been working for years and years, saving, so that you with your clumsiness spoil the fruit of my labors? » she rebuked him. « Now they will come to take you into exile, they will strip us of our possessions, like the wife of… Oh, if I were a man…! » And seeing that her husband lowered his head, she began to sob again, but still repeating: « Oh, if I were a man, if I were a man!  » « And if you were a man, » her husband finally asked, stung, « what would you do?  » « What? Well… well… well, today I would present myself to the Captain General, to offer to fight against the rebels, right now!  » « But haven’t you read what the Diary says? Read! The infamous and bastard treason has been repressed with energy, force, and vigor, and soon the rebel enemies of the country and their accomplices will feel the full weight and severity of the laws… you see? There is no uprising anymore.  » « It doesn’t matter, you must present yourself as they did in ’72, and they have been saved.  » « Yes! So has Father Burg… » But he couldn’t finish the word; the woman running over his mouth. « Go on! » « Pronounce that name and you’ll be hanged tomorrow at Bagumbayan! Don’t you know that it’s enough to pronounce it and you’ll be sentenced without trial? Pull it! Say it! » Captain Tinong, even if he had wanted to obey her, he couldn’t have: his wife was covering his mouth with both hands, pressing his little head against the back of the chair, and the poor man might have suffocated to death if a new person hadn’t intervened. This was his cousin Don Primitivo, who knew Amat by heart, a man of about forty, neatly dressed, pot-bellied, and somewhat plump. « Quid video? » he exclaimed upon entering; « what’s the matter? Quare? » [158] « Oh, cousin! » said the woman, running tearfully toward him; « I sent for you, for I don’t know what will become of us… what do you advise us? Speak, you who have studied Latin and know arguments…  » « But first, quid quaeritis? » Nihil est in intellectu quod prius non fuerit in sensu; nihil volitum quin praecognitum [159]. And he sat down slowly. As if Latin phrases had possessed a calming power, both spouses stopped crying and approached him, awaiting his advice, like the Greeks once upon a time before the saving phrase of the oracle that was to free them from the invading Persians. « Why are you crying? Ubinam gentium sumus? » [160] « You already know the news of the uprising… » « Alzamentum Ibarrae ab alferesio Guardiae civilis destructum? Et nunc? » [161] « And what? Does Don Crisóstomo owe you something? » « No, but you know, Tinong invited him to dinner, greeted him at the Puente de España… in broad daylight! They’re going to say he’s a friend of his! » « Friend? » exclaimed the Latin, surprised, rising; « amice, amicus Plato sed magis amica veritas! Tell me who you keep company with, and I’ll tell you who you are! Malum est negotium et est timendum rerum istarum horrendissimum resultatum! Hmmm! » [162] Captain Tinong turned frightfully pale at hearing so many words in Um; this sound boded ill for him. His wife clasped her hands in supplication and said: « Cousin, don’t speak to us in Latin now; you know we are not philosophers like yourself; speak to us in Tagalog or Spanish, but give us some advice.  » « It’s a pity you don’t understand Latin, cousin: Latin truths are Tagalog lies, for example, contra principia negantem fustibus est argüendum, [163] in Latin it is a truth like Noah’s Ark; I once put it into practice in Tagalog, and I was the one who got beaten. For this reason, it is a pity that you do not know Latin; in Latin everything could be fixed. “We also know many oremus, parcenobis, and Agnus Dei Catolis [164] but now we would not understand each other. Give Tinong an argument so that he will not be hanged! ” “You have done wrong, very wrong, cousin, to befriend that young man!” replied the Latin. “The righteous pay for the sinners; I almost advised you to make your will… Vae illis! Ubi est ignis! Similis simili gaudet; atqui Ibarra ahorcatur, ergo ahorcaberis [165]…” And he shook his head from side to side, disgusted. “Saturnino, what is the matter with you!” cried Captain Tinchang, filled with terror; “Oh, my God! He is dead!” A doctor! Tinong, Tinongoy! The two daughters rushed up, and all three began to lament. “It’s only a faint, cousin, a faint! I would have been happier if… if… but unfortunately it’s only a faint. Non timeo mortem in catre sed super espaldonem Bagumbayanis.” [166] “Bring me some water! ” “Don’t die!” the woman wept. “Don’t die, or they’ll come and arrest you! Oh, if you die and the soldiers come, oh! oh!” The cousin sprinkled water on his face, and the poor man came to. “Come on, don’t cry! Inveni remedium, I found the remedy. Let’s carry him back to his bed; come on! Courage!” that I am here with you and all the wisdom of the ancients… Let them call a doctor; and right now, cousin, go to the Captain-General and take him a gift, a gold chain, a ring… Dadivae quebrant peñas; you say it is an Easter gift. Close the windows, the doors, and tell anyone who asks for my cousin that he is seriously ill. In the meantime, I am burning all the letters, papers, and books so that they cannot find anything, as Don Crisóstomo has done. Scripti testes sunt! Quod medicamenta non sanant, ferrum sanat, quod ferrum non sanat, ignis sanat [167]. “Yes, take it, cousin; burn everything!” said Captain Tinchang; “here are the keys, here are Captain Tiago’s letters, burn them! Let there not be a single newspaper from Europe left, for they are very dangerous. Here are these The Times that I kept to wrap soap and clothes. Here are the books.” « Go to the Captain General, cousin, » said Don Primitivo; « leave me alone. In extremis extrema [168]. Give me the power of a Roman director and you will see how I can save the pat… I mean, the cousin. » And he began to give orders and more orders, to rummage through shelves, tear up papers, books, letters, etc. Soon a fire was burning in the kitchen; old shotguns were split with axes; rusty revolvers were thrown into the toilet; the maid who wanted to keep the barrel of one for a blower, received a snippet. « Conservare etiam sperasti, perfida? » [169] Into the fire! And he continued his auto-da-fé. He saw an old parchment volume and read the title: « Revolutions of the Celestial Globes by Copernicus, pfui! » « Hide, curses, in ignem kalanis [170], « he exclaimed, throwing it into the flames. « Revolutions and Copernicus! Crime upon crime! If I don’t arrive in time… Freedom in the Philippines. Ta-da-ta! What books! To the fire! » And innocent books, written by simple authors, were burned. Not even Captain Juan, a candid little work, managed to escape. Primo Primitivo was right: the just pay for the sinners. Four or five hours later, at a pretentious gathering in Intramuros, the events of the day were being discussed. There were many old women and marriageable spinsters, wives or daughters of employees, dressed in gowns, fanning themselves and yawning. Among the men, who, like the women, betrayed their education and origins in their features, there was a small, one-armed, elderly gentleman whom they treated with great consideration and who maintained a disdainful silence toward the others . « The truth is that before I couldn’t stand the friars and civil guards because of their poor manners, » said a stout woman; « but now that I see their usefulness and services, I would almost gladly marry any of them. I am a patriot.  » « I say the same! » added a thin woman; « what a pity we don’t have the previous governor: he would have left the country squeaky clean!  » « And there would be no more of those filibusters!  » « Don’t they say there are many islands left to populate? Why don’t they deport so many crazy indigenous people there? If I were the Captain General…  » « Ladies, » said the one-armed man, « the Captain General knows his duty; According to what I’ve heard, he’s very irritated, because they had showered favors on that Ibarra. « Showered with favors! » repeated the skinny woman, fanning herself furiously. « Look how ungrateful these indigenous people are! Can they even be treated like people? Jesus!  » « And do you know what I heard? » asked a soldier. « Let’s see! » « What is it? What are they saying? » « Reliable people, » said the one-armed man amidst the utmost silence, « assure that all that talk of building a school was pure fiction.  » « Jesus! Have you seen it? » they exclaimed, now believing the story. « The school was a pretext; what he wanted to build was a fort, from which he could properly defend himself when we come to attack him…  » « Jesus! What infamy! Only an indigenous person is capable of such cowardly thoughts, » exclaimed the fat woman. « If I were the Captain General, you would see… you would see…  » « I say the same! » exclaimed the skinny woman, addressing the one-armed man. « He would arrest every lawyer, clergyman, merchant, and anyone without a formal trial, whether they were in exile or under a registry order! He would uproot evil! » « Well, they say that filibuster is the son of Spaniards! » the one-armed man observed without looking at anyone. « Oh, right! » the fat woman exclaimed, imperturbably. « It was always going to be the personae! No indigenous person understands revolution! He’s raising crows… he’s raising crows! » « Do you know what I heard? » asked a Creole woman, thus interrupting the conversation. « Captain Tinong’s wife… do you remember ? The one in whose house we danced and dined at the Tondo festival…  » « The one who has two daughters? So what?  » « Well, this afternoon the wife gave the Captain-General a ring worth a thousand pesos!  » The one-armed man turned around. « Really? And why? » he asked, his eyes shining. « The woman was saying, as an Easter present…  » « Easter won’t come for a month! » « She’s probably afraid a downpour might hit her… » the fat woman observes. « And she takes cover, » adds the skinny woman. « Unclaimed satisfaction, confessed guilt!  » « That’s what I was thinking; you’ve hit the nail on the head.  » « It’s worth looking into, » the one-armed man observes thoughtfully; « I’m afraid there’s something fishy about it.  » « Some fishy fish, that’s what I was going to say, » the skinny woman repeats. « And I, » says another woman, snatching the word away from him; « Captain Tinong’s wife is very stingy… she hasn’t sent us a single present yet, and we’ve been to her house. So when a tight-fisted, greedy woman lets out a little gift worth a thousand pesos…  » « But is that true? » asked the one-armed man. « Yes! And so true! » My cousin’s boyfriend, His Excellency’s assistant, told me, and I’m almost convinced it’s the same ring the eldest was wearing on the day of the party. She’s always covered in diamonds! « A walking window display!  » « A way of making a show like no other! Instead of buying a fashion model or paying a store…  » The one-armed man left the gathering, giving an excuse. And two hours later, when everyone was already asleep , several residents of Tondo received an invitation through soldiers… The authorities could not allow certain people of position and property to sleep in such poorly guarded and poorly refreshed houses: in the Fuerza de Santiago and other government buildings, sleep would be more peaceful and restful. Among these favored people was the unfortunate Captain Tinong. Chapter 63. MARIA CLARA GETS MARRIED. Captain Tiago is very happy. Throughout this terrible season, no one has taken any notice of him: they have not arrested him, they have not subjected him to isolation, interrogations, electric machines, continuous footbaths in underground rooms, and other such mischiefs, which are well known to certain personages who call themselves civilized. His friends, that is to say, those who were his (because the man already disowned his Filipino friends, from the moment they became suspects to the government) have also returned to their homes, after a few days of vacation in the State buildings. The Captain General himself had ordered that they be evicted from their possessions, not judging them worthy enough to remain there, much to the displeasure of the one-armed man, who wanted to celebrate the next Easter in his abundant and wealthy company. Captain Tinong returned home sick, pale, swollen, The excursion had not been good for him, and he was so changed that he did not say a word, nor greet his family, who cried, laughed, talked, and went mad with joy. The poor man no longer left the house so as not to run the risk of greeting a filibuster. Cousin Primitivo himself, with all the wisdom of the ancients, could not bring him out of his silence. « Crede, prime, » he would say to him: « if I don’t burn all your papers, they’ll have your throat cut; but if I burn the whole house, they won’t even touch your hair. Pero quod eventum, eventum; Gratias agamus Domino Deo quia non in Marianis Insulis es, camotes seminando [171]. Captain Tiago was not unaware of stories similar to those of Captain Tinong . The man was overflowing with gratitude, without knowing exactly to whom he owed such notable favors. Aunt Isabel attributed the miracle to the Virgin of Antipolo, to the Virgin of the Rosary, or at least to the Virgin of Carmen, and at the very least, at the very least, the least she can concede, to Our Lady of Correa: according to her, the miracle could not have escaped from there. Captain Tiago did not deny the miracle, but added: « I believe it, Isabel, but the Virgin of Antipolo couldn’t have done it alone; my friends must have helped, my future son-in-law, Mr. Linares, who, you know, is making fun of Mr. Antonio Cánovas himself, the one whose portrait the illustration brings us, the one who doesn’t deign to show people more than half his face. » And the good man couldn’t repress a smile of satisfaction every time he heard important news about the events. And no wonder. It was whispered that Ibarra would be hanged; that although much evidence was needed to convict him, recently one had appeared that confirmed the accusation; that the experts had declared that, in effect, the school works could pass for a bastion, a fortification, although somewhat defective, as could only be expected from ignorant indigenous people. These rumors reassured him and made him smile. Just as Captain Tiago and his cousin differed in their opinions, the family friends were also divided into two parties: one for miracles and the other for the government, although the latter was insignificant. The miracle workers were subdivided: the chief sacristan of Binondo, the candle seller, and the head of a brotherhood saw the hand of God, moved by the Virgin of the Rosary; the Chinese candle maker—his supplier when he goes to Antipolo—said, fanning himself and waving his leg: “No siya osti gongong; Miligen li Antipolo esi! Esi pueli más con tolo; no siya osti gongong [172]. Captain Tiago held the Chinese person, who passed himself off as a prophet, doctor, etc., in high esteem. Examining the palm of his deceased wife’s hand in the sixth month of pregnancy, he had predicted: « If this man does not love her and make a pact, she will be a real mess! » [173] And Maria Ciara came into the world to fulfill the infidel’s prophecy. Captain Tiago, being a prudent and fearful man, could not make up his mind as easily as the Trojan Paris; he could not give preference to one of the two Virgins for fear of offending the other, which could have serious consequences. « Prudence! » he said to himself ; « let us not spoil it now. » He was in these doubts when the government party arrived: Doña Victorina, Don Tiburcio, and Linares. Doña Victorina spoke for the three men and for herself, mentioned Linares’s visits to the Captain General, and repeatedly hinted at the suitability of a high-ranking relative. « No! » she concluded, « as usual: he who shelters himself in a good shadow, gives himself a good beating.  » « A… a… the other way around, woman! » the doctor corrected her. For days she’s been trying to become Andalusian by eliminating the « d » and replacing the  » z » with an « s, » and this idea couldn’t be erased from her head; first she let her false curls be pulled out. « Yes! » she added, speaking of Ibarra; « he deserved it; I already knew it when I saw him the first time: he’s a filibuster. What did the general say to you, cousin? What did you say to him, what news did you give him, Ibarra? » And seeing that her cousin was taking a long time to answer, she continued, addressing Captain Tiago: « Believe me, if they condemn him to death, as long as they wait, it will be for my cousin.  » « Madam! Ma’am! » Linares protested. But she didn’t give him time. « Oh, how diplomatic you are! We know you’re the general’s advisor, who can’t live without you… Ah, Clarita, what a pleasure to see you! » María Clara still appeared pale, although already quite recovered from her illness. Her long hair was tied back with a light blue silk ribbon . She bowed timidly, smiling sadly, and approached Doña Victorina for the ceremonial kiss. After the customary phrases, the pseudo-Andalusian continued: « We’re coming to visit you; You have been saved thanks to your relationship! – and she looked meaningfully at Linares. « God has protected my father! » the young woman replied in a low voice. « Yes, Clarita, but time and miracles have passed: we Spaniards say: Distrust the Virgin and run.  » « A… a… the other way around! » Captain Tiago, who until then had not found time to speak, dared to ask, paying close attention to the answer: « So you, Doña Victorina, believe that the Virgin? » « We have come precisely to speak with you and the Virgin, » she replied mysteriously, pointing to María Clara; « we have to discuss business. » The young woman understood that she had to withdraw; she looked for an excuse and moved away, leaning against the furniture. What was said and discussed at this conference is so base and petty that we prefer not to recount it. Suffice it to say that when they said goodbye, everyone was cheerful, and then Captain Tiago said to Aunt Isabel: « Tell the inn that we’re having a party tomorrow! Go get Maria ready, we’ll be getting her married soon.  » Aunt Isabel looked at her in horror. « You’ll see! When Señor Linares becomes our son-in-law, we’ll be going up and down all the palaces; they’ll be jealous, they’ll all die of envy! » And so it was that at eight o’clock the following evening, Captain Tiago’s house was full again, only now his guests are exclusively Spanish and Chinese women; the fairer sex is represented by Spanish, Spanish, and Filipino women. Most of our acquaintances are there: Father Sibyla, Father Salví, among several Franciscans and Dominicans; the old lieutenant of the Civil Guard, Señor Guevara, more somber than before; the second lieutenant recounting his battle for the thousandth time, looking down on everyone, believing himself to be a Don Juan of Austria; now he is a lieutenant with the rank of major; de Espadaña, who looks at him with respect and fear and avoids his glances; and Doña Victorina, scorned. Linares had not yet arrived, since, as an important personage, he ought to arrive later than the others: there are people so naive that being an hour late in everything makes great men fall short. In the group of women, María Clara was the object of gossip: the young woman had greeted and received them ceremoniously, without losing her air of sadness. « Pst! » said one young woman; « proud…  » « Pretty, » replied another; « but he could have chosen someone who looked less foolish.  » « Gold, girl; handsome men sell. » Elsewhere it was said: « Getting married when the first groom is about to be hanged! » « That’s what I call being prudent: having a replacement on hand.  » « Well, when I’m widowed… » The young woman, who was sitting in a chair arranging a tray of flowers, perhaps overheard these conversations , because she could be seen trembling, turning pale, and biting her lip several times. In the circle of men, the conversation was loud, and naturally, it revolved around recent events. Everyone was talking, even Don Tiburcio; everyone except Father Sibyla, who maintained a disdainful silence. « I’ve heard that your reverence is leaving the town, Father. » « Salví, » asks the new lieutenant, whom his new star has made more lovable. « I have nothing more to do there; I must settle forever in Manila… and you?  » « I’m leaving the town too, » he answered, stretching out; « the government needs me to use a flying column to disinfect the provinces of filibusters. » Fray Sibyla quickly looks him over from head to toe and turns his back on him completely. « Is it known for sure what will become of the leader, the little filibuster? » asked an employee. « Are you talking about Crisóstomo Ibarra? » asks another. « The most likely and most just thing is that he will be hanged like those of ’72.  » « He’s going to be exiled! » says the old lieutenant dryly. « Exiled! Nothing more than banished! But it will be a perpetual exile! » exclaim several at once. « If that young man, » Lieutenant Guevara continued in a loud and severe voice, « had been more cautious; if he had trusted less in certain people with whom he corresponds; if our prosecutors had not known how to interpret what was written too subtly, that young man would surely have been acquitted. » This statement from the old lieutenant and the tone of his voice produced great surprise in the audience, who did not know what to say. Father Salví looked away, perhaps to avoid seeing the somber look the old man was giving him. María Clara dropped the flowers and remained motionless. Father Sibyla, who knew how to keep silent, also seemed to be the only one who knew how to ask questions. « Are you talking about letters, Mr. Guevara? » « I’m talking about what the defense attorney told me, who has taken up the case with zeal and interest. » Aside from a few ambiguous lines that this young man wrote to a woman before leaving for Europe, lines in which the prosecutor saw a project and a threat against the government, and which he recognized as his own, there was no basis for accusing him. « And the bandit’s statement before his death?  » The defense attorney quashed it, since, according to the bandit himself, they had never communicated with the young man, but only with a certain Lucas, who was, as could be verified, an enemy of his, and who had perhaps committed suicide out of remorse. It was proven that the papers found in the possession of the corpse were forged, since the handwriting was the same as Mr. Ibarra’s seven years ago, but not the current one, which leads one to suppose that this accusatory letter is the model. Furthermore, the defense attorney said that if Mr. Ibarra had not wanted to acknowledge the letter, much could have been done for him; but at the sight of it, he turned pale, lost heart, and confirmed everything he had written in it. « You said, » asked a Franciscan, « that the letter was addressed to a woman; how did it get into the hands of the prosecutor?  » The lieutenant didn’t reply; he looked at Father Salví for a moment and walked away, nervously twisting the sharp tip of his gray beard, while the others commented. « There you see the hand of God! » said one; « even women hate him. » « He had his house burned down, thinking he would save himself, but he didn’t count on the hostess, that is, his mistress, his babai, » added another, laughing. « It’s God’s doing! Santiago closes Spain! » Meanwhile, the old soldier stopped in one of his strolls and approached María Clara, who sat motionless in her seat and listened to the conversation; the flowers could be seen at her feet. « You are a very cautious young woman, » the old lieutenant told her in a low voice; « you did well to deliver the letter… that way you will ensure a peaceful future. » She watched him walk away and shuddered, biting her lip. Fortunately, Aunt Isabel passed by. María Clara was strong enough to grab her by the dress. « Aunt! » she murmured. « What’s wrong? » she asked, terrified, seeing the young woman’s face. « Take me to my room! » she begged, hanging on to the old woman’s arm to get up. « Are you sick, my child? What’s wrong? » « I’m feeling dizzy… the people in the living room… so much light… I need to rest. Tell my father I’ll sleep. » « You’re cold! Do you want tea? » María Clara shook her head, locked the door to her bedroom, and, limply, sank to the floor at the foot of a statue, sobbing: « Mother, mother, my mother! » Moonlight streamed in through the window and the door leading to the rooftop . The music continued to play cheerful waltzes; laughter and the murmur of conversation reached the bedroom . Several times her father, Aunt Isabel, Doña Victorina, and even Linares knocked on the door, but María Clara didn’t move: a gasp escaped from her chest. Hours passed; the merriment of the table ended; dancing and singing could be heard ; the candle burned out and went out, but the young woman remained motionless on the floor, illuminated by the moonbeams, at the foot of the statue of the Mother of Jesus. The house gradually fell silent again, the lights went out, and Aunt Isabel knocked again at the door. « Come on, he’s asleep! » her aunt said loudly. « Because he’s young and careless, he sleeps like a corpse. » When all was silent, she slowly got up and looked around. She saw the rooftop, the small arbors, bathed in the melancholy moonlight. « A peaceful future! Sleeping like a corpse! » she murmured in a low voice and went to the rooftop. The city was asleep; only the occasional sound of a carriage could be heard passing the wooden bridge over the river, whose solitary waters calmly reflected the moonlight. The young woman raised her eyes to the sapphire-clear sky; she slowly removed her rings, earrings, needles, and comb, placing them on the roof parapet and looking toward the river. A bench laden with grass stopped at the foot of the landing stage, which every house has on the riverbank. One of the two men on it climbed the stone steps, jumped over the wall, and seconds later, his footsteps could be heard ascending the stairs to the roof. María Clara saw him stop when he discovered her, but it was only for a moment, because the man advanced slowly, and stopped three steps from the young woman . María Clara stepped back. « Crisóstomo! » she murmured, filled with terror. « Yes, I am Crisóstomo! » the young man replied in a deep voice. « An enemy, a man who had reason to hate me, Elías, has freed me from the prison into which my friends have thrown me.  » These words were followed by a sad silence; María Clara bowed her head and let both hands fall. Ibarra continued: « Next to my mother’s corpse, I swore to make you happy, whatever my fate! » You may have broken your oath; she was not your mother; but I, her son, hold her memory sacred, and through a thousand dangers I have come here to fulfill mine. And chance allows me to speak to you, Maria, we shall not see each other again. You are young, and perhaps one day your conscience will accuse you… I have come to tell you, before leaving, that I forgive you. Now be happy, and goodbye! Ibarra tried to walk away, but the young woman stopped him. « Chrysostom! » he said. « God sent you to save me from despair… hear me, and judge me! » Ibarra tried to gently dismiss her. « I have not come to ask you to account for your actions… I have come to give you peace of mind.  » « I do not want the peace of mind you are giving me; I will give myself peace of mind ! You despise me, and your contempt will make me bitter until death! » Ibarra saw the poor woman’s despair and pain and asked her what she wanted. « I want you to believe I’ve always loved you! » Crisóstomo smiled bitterly. « Ah! You doubt me, you doubt your childhood friend, who has never hidden a single thought from you! » the young woman exclaimed in pain. « I understand you! When you learn my story, the sad story they revealed to me during my illness, you will pity me and you will no longer smile at my pain. Why didn’t you let me die in the hands of my ignorant doctor? You and I would have been happier! » María Clara paused for a moment and continued: « You wanted it, you doubted me, may my mother forgive me! During one of the painful nights of my suffering, a man revealed to me the name of my real father, and forbade me to love you… unless my father himself forgave you for the wrong you have done him! » Ibarra stepped back and looked at the young woman in horror. « Yes, » she continued; « the man told me that he could not permit our union, for his conscience would forbid it, and he would be forced to publish it, at the risk of causing a great scandal, because my father is… » And she murmured a name in the young man’s ear in such a low voice that only he heard it.
« What was I going to do? Should I sacrifice to my love the memory of my mother, the honor of my false father, and the good name of my real one? Could I do it without you yourself despising me? » « But proof? Did you have proof? » « You needed proof! » exclaimed Crisóstomo, convulsed. The young woman pulled two papers from her bosom. « Two letters from my mother, two letters written in the midst of her remorse, when she was carrying me in her womb! Here, read them, and you will see how she curses me and wishes for my death… my death which my father sought in vain with medicines! He forgot these letters in the house where he lived; the man found and kept them, and only gave them to me in exchange for your letter… to assure himself, as he said, that I would not marry you without my father’s consent. Since I have been carrying them on me, instead of your letter, I feel the cold on my heart. I sacrificed you, I sacrificed my love… what doesn’t one do for a dead mother and two living fathers? Did I suspect the use they were going to make of your letter?  » Ibarra was terrified. María Clara continued: « What was left for me? » Could I perhaps tell you who my father was? Could I tell you to ask his forgiveness, he who had made yours suffer so much? Could I perhaps tell my father to forgive you? Could I tell him that I was his daughter, he who had so desired my death? All that remained for me was to suffer, to keep the secret from myself, and to die suffering! Now, my friend, now that you know the sad story of your Maria, will you still have that disdainful smile for her? « Maria, you are a saint!  » « I am happy, since you believe me…  » « However, » added the young man, changing his tone, « I have heard that you are getting married…  » « Yes! » sobbed the young woman; « my father demands this sacrifice from me… he
has loved and fed me, and it was not his duty; I repay him this debt of gratitude by assuring him of peace through this new kinship, but…
 » « But? » « I will not forget the oaths of fidelity I made you. » « What are you planning to do? » Ibarra asked, trying to read her eyes. « The future is dark, and Destiny is in the shadows! I don’t know what I shall do; but know that I love only once, and without love I will never belong to anyone. And what will become of you?  » « I am nothing more than a fugitive… I am fleeing. My escape will soon be discovered , María… » María Clara took the young man’s head in her hands, kissed him repeatedly on the lips, embraced him, and then, abruptly pushing him away, « Run away, run away! » she said; « Run away, goodbye! » Ibarra looked at her with shining eyes, but at a sign from the young woman, he walked away, drunken and hesitant… He jumped over the wall again and entered the bench. María Clara, leaning on the parapet, watched him walk away. Elías took off his hat and greeted her cordially. Chapter 64. THE HUNTING ON THE LAKE « Listen, sir, to the plan I have thought about, » said Elias thoughtfully as they headed for San Gabriel. « I will now hide you in the house of a friend of mine in Mandaluyong; I will bring you all your money, which I have saved and kept at the foot of the balití, in the mysterious tomb of your grandfather; you will leave the country…  » « To go abroad? » interrupted Ibarra. « To live in peace the days that remain to you. You have friends in Spain, you are rich, you will be able to get a pardon. In any case, For us, a foreigner is a better country than our own. Crisóstomo didn’t reply; he meditated in silence. At that moment they were reaching the Pasig River, and the banca began to rise . A horseman was riding quickly over the Puente de España, and a long, sharp whistle could be heard. « Elías, » replied Ibarra, « you owe your misfortune to my family; you have saved my life twice, and I owe you not only gratitude, but also restitution of your fortune. You advise me to live abroad; then come with me, and let us live like brothers. Here you are also unhappy.  » Elías sadly shook his head and answered: « Impossible! It is true that I cannot love or be happy in my country, but I can suffer and die in it, and perhaps for it: that is always something. » Let the misfortune of my country be my own misfortune, and since we are not united by a noble thought, since our hearts do not beat in a single name, at least let my countrymen be united by a common misfortune, at least let me weep with them for our sorrows, let the same misfortune oppress our hearts! « Then why do you advise me to leave? » « Because you can be happy elsewhere and I cannot, because you are not made to suffer, and because you would hate your country if one day you were to find yourself unhappy because of it; and to hate one’s country is the greatest misfortune.  » « You are unjust to me! » exclaimed Ibarra with bitter reproach; « you forget that, as soon as I arrived here, I set about seeking its good…  » « Do not be offended, sir, I do not reproach you: I wish everyone could imitate you! » But I don’t ask the impossible of you, and don’t be offended if I tell you that your heart deceives you. You loved your country because your father taught you so; you loved it because there you had love, fortune, youth, because everything smiled upon you, your country had done you no injustice; you loved it as we love everything that makes us happy. But the day you see yourselves poor, hungry, persecuted, betrayed, and sold by your own countrymen, that day you will deny yourself, your country, and everyone else. « Your words hurt me, » Ibarra said resentfully. Elías lowered his head, considered, and replied: « I want to disabuse you, sir, and spare you a sad future. Remember that time when I spoke to you on this very bench and in the light of this very moon, a month ago, give or take a few days: then you were happy. » The plea of ​​the wretches did not reach you: you disdained their complaints because they were the complaints of criminals; you listened more to their enemies and, despite my arguments and pleas, you sided with their oppressors, and it was up to you whether I became a criminal or let myself be killed to fulfill a sacred word. God did not allow it because the ancient leader of the criminals is dead… A month has passed and now you think differently! You are right, Elias, but man is a creature of circumstances: then I was blinded, disgusted, what do I know? Now misfortune has torn off the bandage; the solitude and misery of my imprisonment have taught me; now I see the horrible cancer that gnaws at this society, that clings to its flesh and demands violent extirpation. They have opened my eyes, they have made me see the wound, and they force me to become a criminal! And since they’ve wanted it, I’ll be a filibuster, but a true filibuster; I’ll call on all the unfortunates, all those who feel a heart beating inside their chests, those who sent you to me… No, I won’t be a criminal, he who fights for his country never is, on the contrary! For three centuries, we’ve extended our hand to them, asked for their love, longed to call them our brothers. How do they answer us? With insults and mockery, denying us even the quality of human beings. There is no God, there is no hope, there is no humanity; there is only the right of might! Ibarra was nervous; his whole body was trembling. They passed in front of the General’s palace and thought they noticed movement and agitation among the guards. « Has the escape been discovered? » Elias murmured. « Lie down, sir, so I can cover you with the grass, because we’ll be passing by the Powder Maker, and the fact that there are two of us might shock the sentry. » The banca was one of those thin, narrow canoes that don’t row but glide over the water. As Elias had anticipated, the sentry stopped him and asked where he had come from. « From Manila, to give grass to the judges and priests, » he replied, imitating the accent of those from Pandakan. A sergeant came out and learned what was going on. « Sulung! » he said to him. « I warn you not to receive anyone on the banca; a prisoner has just escaped. If you capture him and hand him over to me, I’ll give you a good tip.  » « All right, sir; what are his signs? » « He’s wearing a frock coat and speaks Spanish; so be careful! » The bench moved away. Elías turned and saw the silhouette of the sentry, standing by the bank. « We’ll lose a few minutes, » he said in a low voice. « We must enter the Beata River to pretend I’m from Peña Francia. You’ll see the river Francisco Baltasar sang about.  » The town slept in the moonlight. Crisóstomo got up to admire the sepulchral peace of nature. The river was narrow, and its banks formed a flat plain, covered with grass. Elías threw his load on the bank, took a long rod, and pulled out some empty bayons or sacks made of palm leaves from under the grass . They continued sailing. « You are the master of your will, sir, and of your future, » he said to Crisóstomo, who remained silent. « But if you will allow me an observation, I will tell you: Consider carefully what you are going to do. You are going to ignite the war, for you have money, intelligence, and you will soon find many workers; unfortunately, there are many discontented people. But in this struggle you are about to undertake, those who will suffer most are the defenseless and innocent. The same sentiments that a month ago made me address you asking for reforms are also those that now move me to tell you to meditate. The country, sir, does not intend to separate from the mother country; it asks for nothing more than a little liberty, justice, and love. The discontented, the criminals, the desperate will support you, but the people will abstain. You are mistaken if, seeing everything dark, you believe that the country is desperate. » The country suffers, yes, but it still hopes, it believes, and it will only rise when it has lost patience, that is, when those who govern want it to, which is still far off. I myself would not follow you; I will never resort to such extreme remedies while I see hope in men. « Then I will go without you! » Chrysostom replied resolutely. « Is your decision firm?  » « Firm and sole, may the memory of my father witness! I will not allow peace and happiness to be taken from me with impunity, I who have desired only good, I who have respected and suffered everything for love of a hypocritical religion, for love of a country. How have they repaid me? By sinking me into an infamous dungeon and prostituting my future wife. No, not taking revenge would be a crime; it would be encouraging them to new injustices! No, it would be cowardice, pusillanimity, to moan and weep when there is blood and life, when insult and challenge are joined by scorn! I will call upon this ignorant people, I will make them see their misery; let them not think of brothers; there are only wolves that devour each other, and I will tell them that against this oppression the eternal right of man to conquer his freedom rises and protests ! “The innocent people will suffer! ” “Better! Can you lead me to the mountains? ” “Until you are safe!” Elias replied. They went out again to the Pasig. They talked from time to time of indifferent things. “Santa Ana!” Ibarra murmured; “Do you know this house? ” They passed in front of the Jesuits’ country house. “I spent many happy and joyful days there!” Elias sighed. “In my time we came every month… then I was like the others: I had a fortune, a family, I dreamed and glimpsed a future. In those days I saw my sister at the neighboring school; she gave me a piece of work.” by her hand… she was accompanied by a friend, a beautiful young woman. Everything had passed like a dream. They remained silent until they reached Malapad-na-bató [174]. Those who have ever sailed the Pasig at night, on one of those magical nights that the Philippines offers, when the moon pours forth melancholy poetry from the limpid blue; when shadows hide the misery of men and silence extinguishes the petty accents of their voice; when only Nature speaks, they will understand what the two young men were meditating on. In Malapad-na-bató, the carabiniere was sleepy, and, seeing that the banca was empty and offered no loot to be taken according to the traditional custom of his body and use of that post, he let them pass easily. The civil guard of Pasig also suspected nothing, and they were not bothered. Dawn was beginning to break when they reached the lake, tame and tranquil like a gigantic mirror. The moon was paling and the East was tinged with rosy tints. In the distance, they saw a gray mass advancing slowly. « The barge is coming, » Elias murmured. « Lie down and I’ll cover you with these sacks. » The shape of the boat became clearer and more perceptible. « It’s coming between us and the shore, » Elias observed uneasily. And he gradually changed the direction of his banca, rowing toward Binangonan. To his great astonishment, he noticed that the barge was also changing direction, while a voice called to him. Elias stopped and reflected. The shore was still far away, and they would soon be within range of the barge’s rifles. He thought of returning to the Pasig: his banca was faster than that one. But, fatally! Another banca was coming from the Pasig, and the helmets and bayonets of the Civil Guards could be seen gleaming. « We’re trapped! » he murmured, turning pale. He looked at his sturdy arms and, taking the only resolution he had left, began to row with all his might toward Talim Island . Meanwhile, the sun was rising. The banca was gliding rapidly; Elías saw some men standing on the dinghy, signaling to him. « Do you know how to steer a banca? » he asked Ibarra. « Yes; why?  » « Because we’re lost if I don’t jump into the water and make them lose track. They’ll chase me; I swim and dive well… I’ll draw them away from you, and then you can try to save yourselves.  » « No; stay and let’s sell our lives dearly!  »  » It’s useless! We have no weapons, and with their rifles they’ll kill us like birds. » At that moment, a hiss was heard in the water like the fall of a hot body, immediately followed by a detonation. « See? » said Elias, placing the oar on the bench. « We’ll see each other on Christmas Eve at your grandfather’s grave. Save yourselves!  » « And you ?  » « God has saved me from greater dangers.  » Elias took off his shirt; a bullet tore it from his hands, and two shots rang out. Without flinching, he shook hands with Ibarra, who was still lying at the bottom of the bench; he got up and jumped into the water, pushing the small boat with his foot. Several shouts were heard, and soon the young man’s head appeared in the distance as if breathing, then disappeared instantly. « There, there it is! » shouted several voices, and the bullets whistled again . The longboat and the bench gave chase: a light wake marked their passage, moving further and further away from Ibarra’s bench, which rowed as if abandoned. Every time the swimmer poked his head out to breathe, the Civil Guard and the boatmen fired at him. The chase continued; Ibarra’s dock was far away, the swimmer was approaching the shore, about fifty fathoms away. The rowers were already tired, but Elías was too, for he stuck his head out frequently, each time in a different direction, as if to confuse his pursuers. The treacherous wake no longer signaled the diver’s passage. For the last time they saw him near the shore, about ten fathoms away, they opened fire… then minutes and minutes passed; nothing. reappeared on the calm and deserted surface of the lake. Half an hour later, an oarsman was trying to find signs of blood in the water near the shore, but his companions shook their heads with an air that meant both yes and no. Chapter 65. Padre Damaso Explains Himself The precious wedding gifts are piled up on a table in vain; neither the diamonds in their blue velvet cases, nor the pineapple embroidery, nor the silk pieces attract María Clara’s attention. The young woman stares, without seeing or reading, at the newspaper reporting Ibarra’s death, drowned in the lake. Suddenly she feels two hands placed over her eyes, holding her up, and a cheerful voice, that of Padre Damaso, says to her: « Who am I? Who am I? » María Clara jumps from her seat and looks at him in terror. « Silly me, were you scared, eh? You weren’t expecting me, eh? » Well, I’ve come from the provinces to attend your wedding. » And approaching with a satisfied smile, he held out his hand for her to kiss. Maria Clara bent down tremblingly and brought it respectfully to her lips. « What’s the matter, Maria? » asked the Franciscan, losing her joyful smile and becoming anxious. « Your hand is cold, you’re pale… Are you ill, my little girl? » And Father Damaso drew her to him with a tenderness of which one would not have thought he was capable. He took both of the young woman’s hands and questioned her with his gaze. « Don’t you trust your godfather anymore? » he asked in a reproachful tone. « Come, sit here and tell me your troubles, as you did with me as a child, when you wanted candles to make wax dolls. You know I’ve always loved you… I’ve never scolded you… » Father Damaso’s voice was no longer harsh and began to take on affectionate overtones. Maria Clara began to cry. « Are you crying, my child? Why are you crying? Have you had a quarrel with Linares? » Maria Clara covered her ears. « Not a word about him… now! » cried the young woman. Father Damaso looked at her in astonishment. « Don’t you want to confide your secrets to me? Haven’t I always tried to satisfy your smallest whims? » The young woman raised her tearful eyes to him, looked at him for a moment, and then wept bitterly again. « Don’t cry like that, my child, your tears hurt me! Tell me your troubles; you’ll see how your godfather loves you! » Maria Clara approached her slowly, fell on her knees at her feet , and raising her face, bathed in tears, said in a low, barely audible voice: « Do you still love me?  » « Child!  » « Then… protect my father and break up my marriage! » And the young woman recounted her last interview with Ibarra, concealing the secret of her birth. Father Dámaso could hardly believe what he heard. « While he was alive, » the young woman continued, « I planned to fight, I hoped, I trusted. I wanted to live to hear about him… but now that he ‘s dead, there’s no reason for me to live and suffer.  » She said this slowly, in a low voice, calmly, without tears. « But, silly girl, isn’t Linares a thousand times better than… » « When he was alive, I could have married… I planned to run away afterward… my father wants nothing but kinship! Now that he’s dead, no one else will call me his wife… When he was alive, I could have debased myself; all I had was the consolation of knowing that he existed and perhaps would think of me; now that he’s dead… the convent or the grave. » The young woman’s accent had such firmness that Father Dámaso lost his cheerful air and became very thoughtful. « Did you love him so much? » she asked, stammering. Maria Clara did not reply. Fray Damaso bowed his head on his breast and remained silent. « My child! » he exclaimed in a pained voice, « forgive me for having made you unhappy without knowing it. I was thinking of your future, I wanted your happiness. How could I allow you to marry a local, only to see you an unhappy wife and an unhappy mother? I could not get your love out of your mind, and I opposed it with all my might, I abused everything, You, only for you. If you had been his wife, you would weep later for the condition of your husband, exposed to every vexation without any means of defense; mother, you would weep for the fate of your children: if you educate them, you prepare a sad future for them; they become enemies of Religion, and you will see them hanged or exiled; if you leave them ignorant, you will see them tyrannized and degraded! I could not consent to it! That is why I was looking for a husband for you who could make you a happy mother of children who command and not obey, who punish and not suffer… I knew that your childhood friend was good, I loved him as a father, but I hated them from the moment I saw that they were going to cause your unhappiness, because I love you, I idolize you, I love you as one loves a daughter; I have no affection other than yours; I have seen you grow; not an hour goes by that I do not think of you; I dream of you; You are my only joy… And Father Dámaso began to cry like a child. « Well then, if you love me, don’t make me eternally unhappy; he is no longer alive; I want to be a nun.  » « To be a nun, to be a nun! » he repeated. « You don’t know, my daughter, life, the mystery hidden behind the convent walls, you don’t know it! I would rather see you unhappy in the world than in a cloister… Here your complaints can be heard; there you will only have the walls… You are beautiful; very beautiful, and you were not born for it, for the bride of Christ. Believe me, my daughter, time erases everything; later you will forget, you will love, and you will love your husband… Linares.  » « Either the convent or… death! » repeated María Clara. “The convent, the convent or death!” exclaimed Father Dámaso. “Maria, I am old now; I will no longer be able to watch over you and your peace of mind. Choose something else, seek another love, another young man, whoever he may be, anything but the convent. ” “The convent or death! ” “My God, my God!” cried the priest, covering his head with his hands. “You may punish me; but watch over my daughter.” And turning to the young woman, he said, “Do you want to be a nun? You will; I don’t want you to die.” Maria Clara took both of his hands, shook them, and knelt and kissed them . “Godfather, my godfather!” she repeated. Afterward, Fra Dámaso left sadly, his head bowed and sighing. “God, God, you exist since you punish! But take revenge on me and do not harm the innocent; save my daughter.” Chapter 66. CHRISTMAS EVE High above, on the mountainside, beside a stream, a hut built of logs is hidden among the trees. A gourd climbs, branching and laden with fruit and flowers, over its kogon [175] roof ; deer antlers and boar skulls , some with long tusks, adorn the rustic hearth. There lives a Tagalog family, dedicated to hunting and chopping firewood. In the shade of a tree, the grandfather makes brooms from the veins of the palm tree, while a young woman places hen’s eggs, lemons , and vegetables in a basket. Two children, a boy and a girl, play beside another, pale, melancholic man with large eyes and a deep gaze, sitting on a fallen tree trunk. In his emaciated features we recognize Sisa’s son , Basilio, Crispín’s brother. « When your foot gets better, » the little girl told him, « we’ll play hide-and-seek. I’ll be the mother. » « You’ll climb with us to the top of the mountain, » the boy added. « You’ll drink deer blood with lemon juice and you’ll get fat, and then I’ll teach you to jump from rock to rock, over the stream.  » Basilio smiled sadly, looked at the wound on his foot, and then looked up at the sun that was shining brightly. « Sell these brooms, » the grandfather said to the girl, « and buy something for your brothers, because today is Easter.  » « Broomsticks, I want bricklayers! » the boy cried. « I want a head for my doll! » the girl cried, picking up her sister from the matis. « And what do you want? » the grandfather asked Basilio. Basilio got up with difficulty and approached the old man. « Sir, » he said, « have I been sick for more than a month? » « Since we found you unconscious and covered in wounds, two moons have passed; we thought you were going to die…  » « God bless you; we are very poor! » replied Basilio; « but since today is Easter, I want to go to the village to see my mother and my little brother. They will be looking for me.  » « But, son, you are not well yet, and your village is far away; you won’t be home until midnight.  » « No matter, sir! My mother and my little brother must be very sad; every year we spend this holiday together… last year we ate one fish between the three of us… Mother will have been crying while looking for me.  » « You will never reach the village alive, lad! Tonight we have chicken and wild boar tapa. My sons will look for you when they come from the fields…  » « You have many children, and my mother only has the two of us; perhaps she thinks I am already dead. Tonight I want to give her something to cheer her up, a bonus… a son. » The old man felt his eyes moisten, placed his hand on the boy’s head, and said, moved: « You look like an old man! Go on, go, find your mother, give her a gift… from God, as you say; if I had known the name of your town, I would have gone there when you were sick. Go on, my son, may God and the Lord Jesus be with you. Lucia, my granddaughter, will go with you to the next town.  » « What? Are you going? » the boy asked. « There are soldiers down there, there are thieving men. Don’t you want to see my robbers? Pum purumpum!  » « Don’t you want to play blind man’s buff with hide-and-seek? » the girl asked in turn . « Have you ever hidden? True, there is nothing more pleasant than being chased and hiding.  » Basilio smiled; He picked up his cane and, with tears in his eyes , said, « I’ll be back soon. » « I ‘ll bring my little brother. You’ll see him and play with him; he’s as big as you.  » « Does he walk with a limp too? » the girl asked. « Then we’ll make him a mother on the peak.  » « Don’t forget us, » the old man told her. « Take this boar’s head and give it to your mother. » The children accompanied him to the reed bridge over the turbulent stream. Lucia made him lean on her arm, and they disappeared from the children’s sight . Basilio walked lightly despite his bandaged leg. The north wind whistles, and the inhabitants of San Diego shiver with cold. It is Christmas Eve, and yet the town is sad. Not a single paper lantern hangs from the windows, nor does any noise in the houses announce joy as in other years. On the mezzanine of Captain Basilio’s house, he and Don Filipo are talking beside a railing (the latter’s misfortune had made them friends), while from the other side, his cousin Victoria and the beautiful Iday are looking out toward Sinang Street. The waning moon was beginning to shine on the horizon, gilding clouds, trees, and houses, projecting long, fantastic shadows. « Your fortune is no small feat, to be acquitted in these times! » Captain Basilio was saying to Don Filipo. « They’ve burned your books, yes, but others have lost more.  » A woman approached the railing and looked inside. Her eyes were bright, her features haggard, her hair loose and disheveled: the moon gave her a singular appearance. « Sisa! » exclaimed Don Filipo, surprised, turning to Captain Basilio as the madwoman walked away. “Weren’t you at a doctor’s house?” she asked. “Has she been cured now?” Captain Basilio smiled bitterly. “The doctor was afraid of being accused of being Don Crisóstomo’s friend and sent her away from his house. Now she’s wandering around again as crazy as ever, she sings, she’s harmless, and she lives in the woods… ” “What else has happened in the village since we left? I know we have a new priest and a new ensign… ” “Terrible times, humanity is going backwards!” Captain Basilio murmured, thinking of the past. “You see: the day after you left, they found the head sacristan dead, hanging from the zaquizamí of his house. Father Salví felt her death very much and seized all his papers. Ah! The philosopher Tasio also died and was buried in the cemetery of the Chinese people. « Poor Don Anastasio! » sighed Don Filipo; « and his books?  » « They were burned by the pious, who thought they were thus pleasing God. I could save nothing, not even Cicero’s books… the gobernadorcillo did nothing to prevent it.  » Both remained silent. At that moment, the sad and melancholy singing of the madwoman could be heard. « Do you know when María Clara is getting married? » Yday asked Sinang. « I don’t know, » she replied. « I received a letter from her, but I won’t open it for fear of finding out. Poor Crisóstomo!  » « They say that if it weren’t for Linares, Captain Tiago would be hanged; what would María Clara do? » Victoria observed. A boy limped by; He ran toward the plaza, from where Sisa’s song was emanating. It’s Basilio. The boy had found his house, deserted and in ruins; after many questions, he only learned that his mother was crazy and wandering the town; not a word about Crispín. Basilio swallowed his tears, drowned his pain, and without resting, went to find his mother. He reached the town, asked for her, and a song pierced his ears. The unfortunate man controlled the trembling in his legs and wanted to run and throw himself into his mother’s arms. The crazy woman left the plaza and arrived in front of the new lieutenant’s house. Now, as before, there is a sentry at the gate, and a woman’s head appears at the window, but it is not Medusa, it is a young woman: lieutenant and wretch are not synonymous. Sisa began to sing in front of the house, looking at the moon, which swayed majestically in the blue sky among golden clouds. Basilio watched her and didn’t dare approach, perhaps hoping she would leave the place; he paced back and forth, but avoided approaching the barracks. The young woman at the window listened intently to the madwoman’s song and ordered the sentry to bring her up. Sisa, seeing the soldier approaching and hearing his voice, was filled with terror and ran, and God knows how a madwoman runs. Basilio followed behind her, and fearing to lose her, he ran and forgot the pain in his feet. « Look how that boy is chasing the madwoman! » exclaimed an indignant servant who was in the street. Seeing him still chasing her, she picked up a stone and threw it at him, saying, « Take it! What a pity the dog is tied up! » Basilio felt a blow to his head, but continued running without paying attention. The dogs barked at him, the geese honked, and windows opened to admit a curious visitor. Other doors were closing, fearing another night of disturbances. They arrived outside the town. Sisa began to slow down; a great distance separated her from her pursuer. « Mother! » she shouted when she spotted her. The crazy woman, barely hearing the voice, began to flee again. « Mother, it’s me! » cried the desperate boy. The crazy woman couldn’t hear; the son was still panting. The crops had passed and they were now close to the woods. Basilio saw his mother enter and went in too. The bushes, the shrubs, the thorny rushes, and the protruding roots of the trees impeded their progress. The son followed his mother’s silhouette, illuminated from time to time by the moonbeams, penetrating through the clearings and branches. It was the mysterious forest of Ibarra’s family. The boy stumbled several times, falling, but he got up; he felt no pain. His whole soul was concentrated on his eyes, which followed the beloved figure. They crossed the sweetly murmuring stream; the thorns of the reeds, fallen into the mud on the bank, sank into his bare feet: Basilio did not pause to pull them out. To his great surprise, he saw his mother go deeper into the thicket and enter through the wooden door that closes the old Spaniard’s tomb at the foot of the balitî. Basilio tried to do the same but found the door closed. The madwoman defended the entrance with her emaciated arms and disheveled head, holding it closed with all her strength. « Mother, it’s me, it’s me, it’s Basilio, your son! » cried the exhausted boy, letting himself fall. But the madwoman wouldn’t budge; braced herself with her feet on the ground, she offered a vigorous resistance. Basilio pounded on the door with his fist, his head bathed in blood, and wept, but in vain. He got up with difficulty and looked at the wall, thinking of scaling it, but found nothing. He then circled around and saw a branch of the fateful baliti crossing with that of another tree. He climbed: his filial love worked miracles, and from branch to branch he crossed the baliti, and saw his mother still holding the leaves of the door with her head. The noise she made on the branches caught Sisa’s attention; she turned and tried to flee, but her son, letting himself fall from the tree, embraced her and covered her with kisses, then fainted. Sisa saw his forehead bathed in blood; she bent toward him, her eyes seemed to jump out of their sockets. He looked into her face, and those pale features stirred the dormant cells of his brain. Something like a spark flew in his mind. He recognized his son and, with a cry, fell upon the fainting boy, embracing and kissing him. Mother and son remained motionless. When Basilio came to, he found his mother unconscious. He called her, lavished the most tender names on her, and seeing that she neither breathed nor awoke, he got up, went to the stream, drew some water in a small bowl of banana leaves, and sprinkled it on his mother’s pale face. But the mad woman made not the slightest movement; her eyes remained closed. Basilio looked at her in terror; he pressed his ear to her heart, but the thin, withered breast was cold, and the heart did not beat. He placed his lips against hers and perceived no breath. The unfortunate man embraced the corpse and wept bitterly. The moon shone majestically in the sky, the breeze sighed, and crickets chirped beneath the grass. The night of light and joy for so many children, who in the loving bosom of their families celebrate the feast of the sweetest memories, the feast that commemorates the first glance of love that heaven sent to earth; that night when all Christian families eat, drink, dance , sing, laugh, play, love, kiss… that night, which in cold countries is magical for children with its traditional pine tree, laden with lights, dolls, candy, and tinsel, who gaze dazzled with round eyes reflecting innocence, that night offers Basilio nothing but an orphanhood. Who knows? Perhaps in the home of the taciturn Father Salví the children also play, perhaps they sing: Christmas Eve is coming, Christmas Eve is going… The boy cried and moaned a lot and when he raised his head, he saw a man standing in front of him, who was looking at him in silence. The stranger asked him in a low voice: « Are you the son? » The boy nodded. « What are you planning to do? » « Bury her!  » « In the cemetery? » « I don’t have any money, and besides, the priest wouldn’t allow it.  » « Then…?  » « If you wanted to help me… » « I am very weak, » replied the stranger, who slowly sank to the ground, supporting himself with both hands on the earth. « I am hurt… I haven’t eaten or slept for two days… Hasn’t anyone come tonight?  » The man remained thoughtful, contemplating the boy’s interesting physiognomy. “Listen!” he continued in a weaker voice; “I will also be dead before daylight comes… Twenty paces from here, on the other bank of the stream, there is a great deal of firewood piled up; bring it, make a pyre, place our corpses on it, cover them, and light a fire, a great deal of fire until we are turned to ashes…” Basilio listened. “Then, if no one else comes… you will dig here, find much gold… and it will all be yours. Study!” The stranger’s voice became increasingly unintelligible. “Go and get the firewood… I want to help you.” Basilio walked away. The stranger turned his face toward the East and She murmured as if praying: « I am dying without seeing the dawn shine upon my homeland!… You who are to see it, salute it… Do not forget those who have fallen during the night!  » She raised her eyes to heaven, her lips moved as if murmuring a prayer, then she lowered her head and slowly fell to the ground… Two hours later, Sister Rufa was in the batalan [176] of her house performing her morning ablutions to go to mass. The pious woman looked at the nearby woods and saw a thick column of smoke rise; she frowned and, filled with holy indignation, exclaimed: « Who can be the heretic who does kaingin [177] on a feast day? That is why so many misfortunes come! Try going to Purgatory and you will see if I can get you out of there, person!  » EPILOGUE With many of our characters still alive, and the others having been lost from sight, a true epilogue is impossible. For the good of the people, we would gladly kill all our characters, starting with Father Salví and ending with Doña Victorina, but it is not possible… let them live! The country, not we, must feed them in the end… Since María Clara entered the convent, Father Dámaso left the town to live in Manila, like Father Salví, who, while awaiting a vacant miter, preached several times at the church of Santa Clara, in whose convent he held an important position. Not many months passed, and Father Dámaso received orders from the Provincial Priest to serve as a parish priest in a very distant province. It is said that he was so distressed by this that the next day he was found dead in his bedroom. Some said he died of apoplexy, others of a nightmare, but the doctor dispelled any doubts by declaring that he died suddenly. None of our readers would recognize Captain Tiago if they saw him. Already weeks before professing, María Clara fell into such a state of dejection that he began to grow weak and very sad, brooding, and distrustful, like his former friend, the unfortunate Captain Tinong. As soon as the convent doors closed, he ordered his disconsolate cousin, Aunt Isabel, to gather everything that had belonged to his daughter and deceased wife and go to Malabón or San Diego, for he wanted to live alone from then on. He devoted himself furiously to liampó and cockfighting and began to smoke opium. He no longer goes to Antipolo, nor does he order masses to be said; Doña Patrocinio, his old competitor, piously celebrates his triumph, snoring during the sermons. If you ever walk down the first street of Santo Cristo at nightfall, you will see, sitting in a Chinese person’s shop, a small, yellow, thin, bent-backed man with sunken, sleepy eyes and dirty-colored lips and nails, looking at the people as if he didn’t see them. When night falls, you will see him get up with difficulty and, leaning on a stick, go to a narrow corner and enter a dirty shack, above whose door is written in large red letters: ANFION PUBLIC SMOKING-ROOM [178]. This is that famous Captain Tiago, now completely forgotten, even by the head sacristan himself. Doña Victorina has added to her false curls and her Andalusian air, if we may use the word, the new habit of trying to guide the carriage horses, forcing Don Tiburcio to remain still. Since her failing eyesight caused many calamities, she now wore pince-nez, which gave her a famous appearance. The doctor was not called upon to assist anyone again; the servants saw him toothless many days a week, which, as our readers know, was a very bad omen. Linares, this unfortunate man’s sole defender, had been resting with Paco for some time, a victim of dysentery and the ill-treatment of his sister-in-law. The victorious ensign went to Spain as a lieutenant with the rank of commander, leaving his amiable wife in her flannel shirt, whose color was already beyond description. Poor Ariadne, seeing herself abandoned, also devoted herself, like the daughter of Minos, to the worship of Bacchus and the cultivation of tobacco, and she drinks and smokes with such passion that people now fear her. Not only the young girls, but also the old women and children. Our acquaintances from the town of San Diego are probably still alive, if they did not die in the explosion of the steamer Lipa, which was making the trip to the province. Since no one cared to find out who the unfortunates who died in that catastrophe were, or who the legs and arms scattered on Convalesce Island and on the banks of the river belonged to, we are completely unaware if any of our readers’ acquaintances were among them. We are satisfied, like the government and the press of that time, with knowing that the only friar who was on the steamer was saved, and we ask for no more. Our main concern is the life of the virtuous priests, whose reign in the Philippines may God preserve for the good of our souls [179]. Nothing more was heard of María Clara, except that her tomb seems to be guarded in her womb. We have questioned several influential people in the holy convent of Santa Clara, but no one has been willing to say a single word to us, not even the chatty devotees, who are served the famous fried chicken livers and the even more famous sauce, called « the nuns’ sauce, » prepared by the intelligent cook of the Virgins of the Lord. However, one September night, a hurricane roared and whipped its gigantic wings against the buildings of Manila; thunder rumbled every moment; flashes of lightning and thunderbolts illuminated the ravages of the gale and plunged the inhabitants into utter terror. The rain fell in torrents. In the light of the flash or the snaking lightning bolt, a piece of the roof or a window could be seen flying through the air, collapsing with a horrible crash: not a car, not a passerby crossed the streets. When the hoarse echo of thunder, echoed a hundred times, faded in the distance, the wind could be heard sighing, swirling the rain, producing a repeated clatter against the shells of the closed windows. Two guards were sheltering in a building being built near the convent: a soldier and a distinguished man. « What are we doing here? » said the soldier; « no one’s out on the street… we should go to a house; my dear girl lives on Archbishop Street .  » « It’s a long way from here to there, and we’ll get wet, » replied the distinguished man. « What does it matter as long as the lightning doesn’t kill?  » « Bah! Don’t worry; the nuns must have a lightning rod to avoid it.  » « Yes! » said the soldier; « but what’s the use if the night is so dark? » And he raised his eyes to the heights to see in the darkness: at that moment a repeated flash of lightning flashed, followed by a tremendous crash of thunder. « Naku! Susmariósep! » [180] exclaimed the soldier, crossing himself and, pulling at his companion: « Let’s get away from here!  » « What’s the matter with you?  » « Let’s go, let’s get away from here! » he repeated, his teeth chattering with fear. « What have you seen?  » « A ghost! » he murmured, trembling. « A ghost?  » « On the roof… it must be the nun who collects embers during the night! » The distinguished man stuck his head out and tried to see. Another flash of lightning flashed, and a vein of fire crossed the sky, and a horrible explosion was heard. « Jesus! » he exclaimed, crossing himself as well. Indeed, in the brilliant light of the meteor, he had seen a white figure standing almost on the ridge of the roof, its arms and face raised to heaven, as if imploring him. The sky responded with lightning and thunder! After the thunder, a mournful moan was heard. « It’s not the wind, it’s the ghost! » murmured the soldier, as if responding to the pressure of his companion’s hand. « Alas! alas! » it crossed the air, overcoming the noise of the rain. The wind could not cover with its whistling that sweet, mournful voice, full of despair. Another flash of lightning shone, dazzling in intensity. « No, it’s not a ghost! » exclaimed the distinguished man; « I’ve seen her again; she’s as beautiful as the Virgin… Let’s get away from here and report it! » The soldier did not have the invitation repeated, and both disappeared. Who moans in the middle of the night, despite the wind, the rain, and the storm? Who is the timid virgin, the spouse of Jesus Christ, who defies the unleashed elements and chooses the tremendous night and the free sky to utter her complaints to God from a perilous height ? Has the Lord abandoned his temple in the convent and no longer hears prayers? Perhaps his vaults do not allow the soul’s aspirations to rise to the throne of the Merciful? The storm raged furiously for almost the entire night; during the night, not a single star shone; the desperate cries, mingled with the sighs of the wind, continued, but they found nature and men deaf: God had veiled Himself and did not hear. The following day, when the sky had cleared of dark clouds and the sun shone again in the purified ether, a carriage stopped at the door of the convent of Saint Clare, and a man stepped out. He introduced himself as a representative of the authorities and asked to speak immediately with the abbess and see all the nuns. It is said that one appeared with her habit all wet, in tatters, and weepingly begged for humankind’s protection against the violence of hypocrisy, revealing horrors. It is also said that she was extremely beautiful, that she had the most beautiful and expressive eyes ever seen. The representative of the authorities did not welcome her: he parleyed with the abbess and abandoned her despite her pleas and tears. The young nun saw the door close behind the man, just as the condemned man would see the gates of heaven close for him, if heaven ever became as cruel and insensitive as men. The abbess said she was crazy. The man might not have known that there was a hospice for the insane in Manila, or perhaps he might have thought that the nunnery was merely an asylum for the insane, although it is claimed that the man was ignorant enough, especially to be able to decide when a person was in their right mind or not. It is also said that General J. [181] thought otherwise, and that when the story reached his ears, he wanted to protect the crazy woman and asked for her. But this time no beautiful and helpless young woman appeared, and the abbess did not allow the cloister to be visited, invoking the name of religion and the Holy Statutes for this purpose. Nothing more was said about the incident, nor about the unfortunate María Clara. THE END We have reached the end of Noli me tángere by José Rizal, a work that transcends fiction to become a testimony of struggle and hope. With his pen, Rizal bravely exposed the shadows of his time, at the same time offering a human portrait filled with love, sacrifice, and dreams of justice. May this narrative remind us of the power of literature to open consciences and transform societies. Thank you for joining us for Ahora de Cuentos, and don’t forget to come back to discover more stories that illuminate memory and the collective imagination. .

Déroulement de la vidéo:

0.0 Welcome to Now for Stories. Today we delve into one of the
5.56 most influential works of Philippine literature: Noli me tángere by José
10.84 Rizal. Published in 1887, this novel marked a before and after in
16.92 the history of the Philippines, not only as a literary story, but also as a call to social conscience. Through the experiences of Crisóstomo
26.28 Ibarra and a group of unforgettable characters, Rizal reveals the injustices of the Spanish colonial regime, ecclesiastical corruption, and
34.88 the suffering of the people. Listening to this story is like traveling to the heart of a nation in search of dignity and freedom.
42.36 Chapter 1. A MEETING. At the end of October, Don Santiago de los Santos, popularly known
49.4 as Captain Tiago, was hosting a dinner party, which, despite having been announced only that afternoon, contrary to custom, was already
58.24 the topic of conversation in Binondo, other suburbs, and even in Intramuros. Captain Tiago was then considered the most
66.28 effusive of men, and it was known that his house, like his country, was closed to no one, except to commerce or any new or daring idea.
75.6 The news spread like an electric shock throughout the world of parasites, flies, or worms that God created in His infinite goodness
84.52 and so lovingly multiplies in Manila. Some sought shoe polish for their boots; others, buttons and ties, but all were concerned with how
93.72 to greet the owner of the house more familiarly, to make him believe in old friendships, or to excuse themselves, if necessary,
103.36 for not having been able to arrive earlier. This dinner was held in a house on Anloague Street, and since we don’t
110.04 remember the number, we will describe it in a way that will still be recognizable , if the tremors haven’t ruined it. We do not believe that
117.88 its owner will have it demolished, because this work is usually carried out there by God or Nature, which also has
126.76 many works contracted by our Government. It is a fairly large building, in the style of many in the country, located towards the part
135.04 that overlooks an arm of the Pasig, called by some the Binondo estuary, and which plays, like all the rivers of Manila, the multiple role
143.84 of bathroom, sewer, laundry, fishing, means of transport and
148.88 communication and even drinking water, if the Chinese water carrier deems it convenient .
154.296 It is noteworthy that this powerful artery of the suburb, where the traffic bustles most and the comings and goings stun, for a distance of
163.536 almost a kilometer, only has a wooden bridge, broken on one side for six months and impassable on the other the rest
172.376 of the year. Such that, during the hot season, the horses take advantage of this permanent status quo to jump into the water,
179.816 much to the surprise of the distracted mortal, who, inside the carriage , dozes or philosophizes about the progress of the century.
187.056 The house we are referring to is somewhat low and of not very correct lines:
192.216 whether the architect who built it did not see well, or whether this was the effect of earthquakes and hurricanes, no one can say with
199.896 certainty. A wide staircase with green balusters and carpeted in places leads from the tiled entrance hall or porch to the
208.576 main floor, amid flowerpots and flower pots on pedestals of Chinese tiles in variegated colors and fantastic designs.
217.016 Since there are no doormen or servants to ask for or inquire about the invitation, we will go up, oh you who read me, friend or
227.976 foe! If you are attracted by the chords of the orchestra, the light , or the meaningful clatter of the crockery and cutlery, and
237.256 you want to see what the gatherings are like there in the Pearl of the Orient. I would gladly, and for my own convenience, spare you the description of
245.896 the house, but this is very important, for we mortals in general are like turtles: we are worth and are classified by
253.336 our shells; for this and other qualities, the mortals of the Philippines are also like turtles. If we go up, we will
263.096 suddenly find ourselves in a spacious room, called there a « fall, » I know not why, which tonight serves as a dining room as well as an
271.856 orchestra hall. In the middle, a long table, profusely and luxuriously decorated,
278.104 seems to wink at the crasher with sweet promises, and threaten the timid one.
283.304 young, in the simple dalaga, with two mortal hours in the company of strangers, whose language and conversation usually have a very
292.304 particular character. Contrasting with these earthly preparations are the motley paintings on the walls, representing religious subjects
301.304 such as Purgatory, Hell, The Last Judgment, The Death of the Just,
307.104 That of the Sinner, and in the background, imprisoned in a splendid and elegant
313.104 Renaissance-style frame carved by Arevalo, a curious large canvas in which two old women can be seen… The inscription reads:
323.064 Our Lady of Peace and Good Voyage, who is venerated in Antipolo,
328.304 in the form of a beggar, visits the pious
333.784 and famous Captain Ines in her illness. [1] The composition, if it does not reveal much taste or art, is, on the other hand, quite realistic: the sick woman
342.784 already seems like a putrefying corpse because of the yellow and blue hues of her face; The vessels and other objects, that cortege of long
353.304 illnesses, are reproduced so minutely that even their contents are visible . Contemplating these pictures, which excite the appetite
361.824 and inspire bucolic ideas, one might think that the evil owner of the house knew very well the character of most of those who
370.504 would sit at the table, and to veil his thoughts a little, he has hung from the ceiling beautiful Chinese lanterns, birdcage without birds,
378.864 silvered glass spheres, red, green, and blue, withered air plants, dried and inflated fish, which they call small boats, etc.,
388.424 enclosing the whole on the side facing the river with whimsical wooden arches, half Chinese, half European, and revealing on a rooftop
397.504 arbors and gazebos dimly lit by paper lanterns of all colors. Over there in the living room are those who are about to dine, amid colossal mirrors and
407.824 glittering chandeliers. Over there, on a pine platform, is the magnificent grand piano, exorbitantly priced, and even more precious tonight
416.864 because no one is playing it. Over there is a large oil portrait of a handsome man in a tailcoat, stiff, straight, symmetrical like the tasseled cane
424.824 he carries between his stiff, ring-covered fingers. The portrait
430.144 seems to be saying: « Ahem! Look at all the clothes I’m wearing and how serious I am! »
435.744 The furniture is elegant, perhaps uncomfortable and unhealthy: the master of the house wouldn’t be thinking about the hygiene of his guests, but about
443.904 luxury itself. « Dysentery is a terrible thing, but you sit in European armchairs, and you don’t always have that! » he would tell them.
452.104 The living room is almost full of people: the men are separated from the women, as in Catholic churches and synagogues. They are
460.744 a few young women, among the Filipinos and the Spanish: they open their mouths to
465.784 stifle a yawn, but immediately cover them with their fans; they barely
471.344 murmur a few words; any conversation that ventures on them dies in monosyllables, like those noises heard at night in
479.264 a house, noises caused by mice and lizards. Is it perhaps the images of various Our Ladies hanging on the walls
487.944 that oblige them to maintain silence and religious composure, or are the women here an exception?
494.664 The only one who received the ladies was the old woman, a cousin of Captain Tiago,
500.184 with kindly features and who spoke Spanish rather poorly. Her entire policy and urbanity consisted of offering the Spanish women a
509.544 tray of cigars and buyos [2], and in giving the Filipinos their hands to kiss , exactly like the friars.
516.648 The poor old woman finally grew bored and, taking advantage of the sound of a plate breaking,
524.048 rushed out, muttering, « Jesus! Wait, you unworthy people! » And she didn’t appear again.
530.208 As for the men, they were already making more noise. Some cadets were talking animatedly, but in low voices, in one of the corners,
538.848 occasionally looking and sometimes pointing at various people in the room; and they were laughing among themselves more or less
546.488 secretly. On the other hand, two foreigners, dressed in white, with their hands clasped behind them and without saying a word, were pacing from one end
555.888 of the room to the other with long strides, like bored passengers do on the deck of a ship. All the interest and the greater animation
564.328 They were part of a group formed by two religious men, two countrymen, and a soldier around a small table on which bottles of wine and
572.808 English biscuits could be seen. The soldier was a tall old lieutenant with a stern countenance; he looked like a
579.168 Duke of Alba, a laggard in the Civil Guard ranks; he spoke little, but harshly and briefly. One of the friars, a young Dominican,
587.808 handsome, neat, and brilliant like his gold-framed glasses, had a precocious gravitas: he was the priest of Binondo, and in earlier years had been
597.888 a professor at San Juan de Letrán. He had a reputation as an accomplished dialectician, so much so that in the days when the sons of Guzmán still dared
606.768 to fight in subtleties like the laity, the skillful debater B. de
612.088 Luna had never been able to embroil or ensnare him: Fray Sibyla’s distinctions
617.168 left him like a fisherman trying to catch eels with nets. The Dominican spoke little and seemed to weigh his words.
625.648 On the contrary, the other, a Franciscan, spoke a lot and gesticulated more. Although his hair was beginning to
633.888 turn gray, his robust nature seemed to be well preserved. His correct features, his unreasonable gaze, his broad
643.504 jaw and Herculean form gave him the appearance of a disguised Roman patrician, and, unwittingly, you will remember one of those three
651.824 monks Heine speaks of in his Gods in Exile, who, around the September Equinox, there in the Tyrol, would cross a lake in a boat at midnight
659.984 , and each time they would place in the hand of the poor boatman a silver coin, as cold as ice, which filled him with
667.744 terror. However, Friar Damasus was not mysterious like those; He was cheerful, and if the tone of his voice was gruff like that of a man
677.264 who has never held his tongue, who believes everything he says to be holy and unbeatable, his cheerful and frank laugh erased this unpleasant impression,
687.424 and one was even forced to forgive him for showing in the hall his sockless feet and hairy legs, which would have made the fortune
696.224 of a Mendieta at the fairs of Quiapo [3]. One of the countrymen, a tiny man with a black beard, was
703.624 notable only for his nose, which, judging by its size, could not have been his; the other, a blond young man, seemed to have recently arrived in the country; with
713.584 him the Franciscan was carrying on a lively discussion. « You’ll see, » said the friar; « if he stays in the country for a few months,
720.624 he will be convinced of what I am telling you: it is one thing to govern in Madrid
725.944 and quite another to be in the Philippines. » –But… –I, for example,–continued Fray Dámaso, raising his voice so as
732.224 not to let the other have the floor,–I, who have been growing bananas and morisqueta [4] for twenty-three years, can speak with authority on this matter. Don’t
739.384 come at me with theories or rhetoric; I know the indigenous person. Tell me
745.104 that from the moment I arrived in the country, I was assigned to a town, small, it’s true, but very dedicated to agriculture.
752.136 I still didn’t know Tagalog very well, but I could already hear the women’s confessions, and we understood each other,
758.296 and they grew to love me so much that, three years later, when they transferred me
764.216 to another, larger town, a vacant one due to the death of the priest, an indigenous person, they all began to cry, showered me with gifts, and accompanied me with music…
773.216 –But that only proves… –Wait, wait! Don’t be so clever! The one who succeeded me stayed
779.496 less time, and when he left, he had more accompaniment, more tears
784.696 , and more music, even though he was more popular and had raised the parish fees almost double.
791.696 « But you will allow me…  » « Even longer; I have been in the town of San Diego for twenty years, and I only
798.976 left it a few months ago (here he seemed to get upset). Twenty years, no one can deny it, are more than enough to
807.576 get to know a town. San Diego had six thousand souls, and I knew every inhabitant as if I had given birth and breastfed them: I knew which foot
816.776 this one limped on, where the shoe pinched that one, who was making
823.656 love to that girl, what indiscretions this one had had and with whom,
828.816 who the boy’s real father was, etc., as if I confessed everything; they were careful not to fail in their duty. Tell me, if I’m lying,
838.136 Santiago, the owner of the house; he has a lot of land there, and that’s where we made our friends. Well, you’ll see what
846.976 an indigenous person is like; when I left, only a few old women and some third brothers accompanied me, and I’ve been here for twenty years!
855.416 « But I don’t see that this has anything to do with the tobacco embargo , » replied the blond man, taking advantage of a pause while the
862.856 Franciscan took a small glass of sherry. Fray Dámaso, filled with surprise, almost dropped the glass. He
869.256 stared at the young man for a moment. « How? How? » he then exclaimed, with the utmost astonishment.
875.664 « But is it possible that you don’t see that which is as clear as day? Don’t you see,
881.704 Son of God, that all this clearly proves that the ministers ‘ reforms are irrational?
887.624  » This time it was the blond man who was perplexed; the lieutenant furrowed his eyebrows even more; The tiny man shook his head as if to agree
896.944 with Friar Dámaso or deny it. The Dominican contented himself with almost turning his back on them all.
903.104 « Do you believe? » the young man was finally able to ask, very seriously, looking curiously at the friar.
908.704 « Do I believe? Just like in the Gospel! The indigenous person is so indolent!
914.744  » « Ah! Excuse me for interrupting you, » said the young man, lowering his voice
919.904 and moving his chair a little closer. « You have uttered a word that has caught my attention: does such indolence truly exist, native
928.064 , or is it, according to a foreign traveler, that with this indolence we excuse our own, our backwardness, and
937.904 our colonial system? He was speaking of other colonies whose inhabitants are of the same race…
943.504  » « Wow! Envy! Ask Mr. Laruja, who also knows
949.584 the country; ask him if the ignorance and indolence of the indigenous person
954.624 are equal! » « Indeed, » replied the little man, who was the one alluded to,  »
959.784 nowhere in the world can you see another more indolent than an indigenous person, nowhere in the world!
966.504  » « Nor anyone more vicious, nor more ungrateful!  » « Nor anyone more ill-mannered! » The blond young man began to look around uneasily.
975.104 « Gentlemen, » he said in a low voice, « I believe we are in the house of an indigenous person; those young ladies…
981.304  » « Bah! Don’t be so apprehensive! Santiago does not consider himself an indigenous person,
986.744 and besides, he is not present, and… even if he were! That is just the nonsense of newcomers.
992.544 Let a few months go by; you will change your mind when you have attended many parties and dances [5],
1000.064 slept on cots, and eaten much tinola.  » « Is what you call tinola a fruit of the lotus species
1006.224 that makes men… well… forgetful? » « What lottery or lottery! » replied Father Dámaso, laughing.  »
1013.984 You’re playing the bass drum. Tinola is a gourd [6] of a hen and a pumpkin. How long have you been here?
1021.144  » « Four days, » exclaimed the young man, somewhat irritated. « Are you here as an employee?  » « No, sir: I’ve come on my own to see the country.
1030.904  » « Man, what a strange bird! » exclaimed Brother Dámaso, looking at him curiously. « Coming on my own account and for no reason! What
1038.464 a phenomenon! Having so many books… with half a brain … many have written such great books! With half
1046.704 a brain…  » « Your Reverence was saying, Father Dámaso, » the
1052.984 Dominican interrupted abruptly, cutting short the conversation, « that Your Reverence has been in the town of San Diego for twenty years and has left… Wasn’t
1061.224 Your Reverence happy with the town? » At this question, asked in such a natural and almost
1070.064 negligent tone, Brother Damaso suddenly lost his cheerfulness and stopped laughing. « No! » he growled sharply, and sank violently back into
1079.144 his chair. The Dominican continued in an even more indifferent tone: « It must be painful to leave a town where one has been for twenty years,
1088.064 and which is known as the habit one wears. I, at least, was sorry to leave Camiling, and I was there only a few months… but the superiors
1097.344 did it for the good of the Community… for my good. » For the first time that evening, Brother Damaso seemed very worried.
1105.368 Suddenly , he slammed his fist on the arm of his chair and, breathing heavily, exclaimed:
1111.768 « Either there is religion or there isn’t! That is, either the priests are free or
1116.848 they aren’t! The country is lost, it’s lost! » And he slammed his fist again. The entire room, surprised, turned toward the group: the Dominican
1128.128 raised his head to look at him from under his glasses. The two foreigners who were strolling by stopped for a moment, looked at each other,
1136.528 showed their front teeth a bit, and then continued
1141.688 their pacing. « He’s in a bad mood because you treated him with reverence! » Mr. Laruja murmured in the blond young man’s ear.
1148.688 « What do you mean by Your Reverence? What’s the matter? » asked the Dominican and the lieutenant in different tones of voice.
1155.088 « That’s why so many calamities come! » “The rulers support the heretics against the ministers of God!” continued the Franciscan,
1163.928 raising his sturdy fists. “What do you mean?” asked the frowning lieutenant again,
1170.048 half rising. “What do I mean?” repeated Fray Dámaso, raising his voice even more and
1175.608 confronting the lieutenant. “I say what I mean! I, I mean that when the priest throws the corpse of
1185.168 a heretic out of his cemetery, no one, not even the king himself, has the right to interfere, much less to
1190.688 impose punishments. So a little general, a little general Calamity [7]…
1196.048 ” “Father, Your Excellency is Vice Royal Patron!” shouted the soldier, rising.
1201.808 “What Excellency, or what Vice Royal Patron!” replied the Franciscan, also rising. “In the past, he would have been dragged
1209.728 down the stairs, as the Corporations once did with the impious Governor Bustamante.” Those were times of faith!
1217.128 « I warn you that I do not allow it… Your Excellency represents His Excellency!
1222.208  » « What king or what Roque! For us, there is no king but the legitimate one…  » « Stop! » shouted the lieutenant threateningly, as if addressing his
1230.952 soldiers; « either take back everything you have said or tomorrow I will report to Your Excellency…
1236.232  » « Go right now, go! » replied Friar Dámaso sarcastically
1241.312 , approaching him with his fists clenched. « Do you think that because
1247.352 I wear the habit, I am missing them?… Go ahead, I’ll still lend you my carriage!  » The matter was taking a comical turn, but fortunately
1254.992 the Dominican intervened. « Gentlemen! » he said in a tone of authority and with that nasal voice that
1260.832 so well suits friars, « let’s not confuse things or look for offenses where there are none. » We must distinguish in Fray Dámaso’s words
1269.712 those of a man from those of a priest. The latter’s, as such, per se, can never offend, for they come from absolute truth. In
1278.792 the words of a man, a subdistinction must be made: those he says ab irato, those he says ex ore but not in corde, and those he says in corde. These
1288.912 last are the ones that can only offend, and that depends on whether they already existed in mind for a reason, or only come per accidens in
1298.032 the heat of conversation, if there is… « Well, I know the reasons by accidens and by myself, Father
1303.832 Sibyla! » interrupted the soldier who was getting entangled in so many distinctions and feared that if these continued, he would still not be found
1312.032 guilty. « I know the reasons, and Your Grace will distinguish them. During
1317.232 Father Dámaso’s absence in San Diego, the assistant buried the body of a very worthy person… yes, sir, very worthy; I
1327.832 have met him several times and have stayed at his house. That he has never confessed, so what? I don’t confess either; but to say that he
1336.912 committed suicide is a lie, a slander. A man like him, who has a son in whom he places his affection and his hopes, a man
1346.68 who has faith in God, who knows his duties to society, an honorable and just man does not commit suicide. I say this, and I will not say
1356.4 anything else here. And thank me, Your Honor. And turning his back on the Franciscan, he continued:
1362.48 « Well, this priest, on his return to town, after mistreating
1367.72 the poor assistant, had the body dug up and taken out of the cemetery to be buried I don’t know where. The town of San Diego
1377.2 He had the cowardice not to protest; it is true that very few knew: the dead man had no relatives, and his only son is in
1387.16 Europe; but Your Excellency found out and, being a man of upright heart, he asked for punishment… and Father Dámaso was transferred to a
1396.8 better town. That’s all. Now make your distinctions. » And with that, he left the group.
1403.4 « I am very sorry to have unwittingly touched on such a delicate matter, » said Father Sibyla regretfully. « But, in the end, if there has been
1411.52 any gain in changing towns…  » « What is there to gain! And what is lost in the transfers… and the papers… and the… and everything that is lost? »
1419.84 Fra Dámaso interrupted, stammering, unable to contain his anger. Little by little the gathering returned to its former tranquility.
1427.36 Other people had arrived, among them an old, lame Spaniard with a sweet and harmless face, leaning on the arm of an old
1436.32 Filipino woman, full of curls and makeup and dressed in European style. The group greeted them in a friendly manner; Dr. de Espadaña and his wife,
1446.36 Dr. Doña Victorina, sat among our acquaintances. Some journalists and grocers could be seen greeting each other, wandering around
1456.0 without knowing what to do. « But can you tell me, Señor Laruja, what is the owner of
1461.88 the house like? » asked the blond young man. « I haven’t been introduced yet.
1467.28  » « They say he’s gone out; I haven’t seen him either.  » « There’s no need for introductions here! » Fray
1473.08 Dámaso intervened. « Santiago is a man of good means.  » « A man who didn’t invent gunpowder, » Laruja added.
1479.88 « You too, Señor de Laruja! » exclaimed Doña Victorina with sweet reproach
1484.92 , fanning herself. « How could the poor fellow invent gunpowder, if, as they say, it had already been invented by Chinese people centuries ago?
1494.68  » « Chinese people? Are you mad? » exclaimed Friar Dámaso. « Get away from
1500.04 it! It was invented by a Franciscan, one of my order, Friar Savalls I don’t know how many times in the seventh century!
1506.36  » « A Franciscan! » « Well, he must have been a missionary in China, that Father Savalls, » replied the lady, who did not abandon her thoughts like that.
1516.04 « You mean Schwartz, madam, » replied Friar Sibyla without looking at her. « I don’t know; Friar Dámaso said Savalls: I only repeat myself!
1525.64  » « Good! Savalls or Chevás, what does it matter? » « A letter doesn’t make a person Chinese! » the Franciscan retorted sulkily.
1533.4 « And in the fourteenth century, not the seventh, » the Dominican added in a corrective tone, as if to mortify the other’s pride.
1541.28 « Well, a century more or a century less doesn’t make you a Dominican either!  » « Well, don’t get angry, Your Honor! » said Father Sibyla, smiling. « So much the
1551.88 better that he invented it; that way he’s saved
1556.96 his brothers the trouble.  » « And you say, Father Sibyla, that this was in the fourteenth century? » Dona Victorina asked with great interest; « before or after
1565.48 Christ? » Fortunately for the person being questioned, two people entered the room.
1570.68 Chapter 2. CHRISÓSTOMO IBARRA. They were not beautiful, well-dressed young women who attracted everyone’s attention
1577.8 , even Brother Sibyla’s; It wasn’t His Excellency the Captain General with
1583.472 his aides, who would bring the lieutenant out of his reverie, take a few steps forward, and leave Brother Dámaso frozen as if petrified:
1593.672 it was simply the original portrait in tails, leading by the hand a young man dressed in strict mourning.
1600.672 « Good evening, gentlemen! Good evening, Father! » was the first thing Colonel Tiago said, kissing the hands of the priests who had forgotten to
1610.392 give the blessing. The Dominican had taken off his glasses to look at the young man who had just arrived, and Brother Dámaso went pale and with
1619.592 wide eyes . « I have the honor to present to you Don Crisóstomo Ibarra,
1625.552 son of my late friend! » continued Colonel Tiago; « this gentleman has just
1631.032 arrived from Europe, and I have gone to greet him. » At this name, a few exclamations were heard; the lieutenant forgot
1638.752 to greet the owner of the house; He approached the young man and examined him from head to toe. He then exchanged his usual remarks with
1647.712 the whole group, and did not seem to present anything unusual except his black person suit in the middle of that room. His towering height, his
1656.552 features, his movements, nevertheless, breathed that perfume of a
1661.792 healthy youth in which both body and soul have been cultivated simultaneously . On his face, frank and cheerful, some slight traces
1671.472 of Spanish blood could be seen through a beautiful personal complexion, a touch of rosiness
1676.592 in the cheeks, perhaps the effect of his time in cold countries. « Shut up! » he exclaimed with joyful surprise. « The priest of my town!
1686.472 Father Dámaso, my father’s close friend!  » All eyes turned to the Franciscan; he did not move.
1694.152 « Excuse me, I was mistaken! » Ibarra added, confused. « You were not mistaken! » he finally managed to answer in a
1701.992 strained voice. « But your father was never a close friend of mine. » Ibarra slowly withdrew the hand he had extended, looking at him
1709.696 in surprise, turned, and found himself
1714.816 staring at the lieutenant’s stern figure. « Young man, are you the son of Don Rafael Ibarra? »
1720.136 The young man bowed. Fray Dámaso sat up in his chair and stared at the
1725.976 lieutenant. « Welcome to your country, and may you be happier there than your father! » exclaimed the soldier in a trembling voice. « I have known and
1735.296 treated him, and I can say that he was one of the most worthy and honorable men in the Philippines.
1740.456  » « Sir! » replied Ibarra, moved. « Your praise of my father dispels my doubts about his fate, which I, his son, still have no doubts about. »
1751.576 The old man’s eyes filled with tears, and he turned and walked hurriedly away.
1758.136 The young man found himself alone in the middle of the room. The master of the house had
1763.376 disappeared, and he could find no one to introduce him to the young ladies, many of whom were looking at him with interest. After hesitating for
1771.696 a few seconds, with simple and natural grace, he addressed them: « Allow me, » he said, « to disregard the rules of
1780.736 rigorous etiquette. I have been away from my country for seven years, and upon returning, I cannot contain my admiration and fail to greet its
1789.856 most precious adornment, its women. » As no one dared to reply, the young man was forced to
1796.336 withdraw. He addressed the group of some gentlemen who, upon seeing him approaching, formed a semicircle.
1803.056 « Gentlemen! » he said; « there is a custom in Germany that when a stranger comes to a party and cannot find anyone to introduce him to the
1810.936 others, he himself gives his name and introduces himself, to which the others reply in the same way.  » Allow me this custom, not to introduce
1820.336 foreign customs, for ours are also very beautiful, but because I feel obliged to do so.
1826.904 I have already greeted the heavens and the women of my homeland: now I wish to greet the citizens, my
1834.264 compatriots. Gentlemen, my name is Juan Crisóstomo Ibarra y Magsalin!
1839.344 The others gave their more or less insignificant, more or less unknown names.
1845.144 « My name is A… a! » said a young man curtly, bowing slightly. « May I perhaps have the honor of speaking with the poet whose works have
1853.104 sustained my enthusiasm for my homeland? They have told me that you no longer write, but they have not been able to explain why…
1859.264  » « Why? Because inspiration is not invoked to drag itself along and lie. Someone has been prosecuted for having put into
1867.384 verse a truism from Pero Grullo. They have called me a poet, but they will not call me crazy. »
1872.664 « And may I ask what truth that was? » He said that the son of the lion was also a lion; he was almost
1878.584 exiled. And the strange young man left the group. Almost running, a man with a smiling countenance arrived, dressed like
1886.344 the natives of the country, with brilliant buttons on his shirtfront. He approached Ibarra, shook his hand, and said:
1893.504 « Mr. Ibarra, I wanted to meet you. Capt. Tiago is a very good friend
1899.424 of mine, I knew your father… My name is Capt. Tinong, I live in Tondo, where you have your house; I hope you will honor me with your visit;
1909.344 come and dine with us tomorrow. » Ibarra was delighted with such kindness; Capt. Tinong smiled and
1916.024 rubbed his hands. « Thank you! » he replied affectionately, « but I’m leaving tomorrow for San Diego…
1921.864 —Too bad! Then it will be for when you return! —The table is set!—announced a waiter at the Campana café. The
1929.944 people began to file in, not without much urging from the women, especially the Filipinos.
1935.544 Chapter 3. DINNER Jele Jele bago quiere [9] Friar Sibyla seemed very satisfied: he walked calmly and his
1944.928 contracted, fine lips no longer reflected disdain; he even
1950.488 deigned to speak to the lame doctor from Espadaña, who answered in monosyllables, for he was something of a stutterer. The Franciscan was in a
1958.448 terrible mood, kicked the chairs that obstructed his
1963.648 path and even elbowed a cadet. The lieutenant was serious; the others spoke with great animation and praised the magnificence of
1971.848 the table. Doña Victorina, however, wrinkled her nose in contempt, but immediately turned around, as furious as a trampled snake: indeed
1980.608 , the lieutenant had put his foot on the train of her dress. « But don’t you have eyes? » she said.
1987.968 « Yes, madam, and two better ones than yours; but I was looking at those curls, » replied the ungallant soldier, and walked away.
1995.808 Instinctively, the two religious men went to the head of the table, perhaps out of habit, and as was to be expected, what happened
2005.488 with candidates for a chair happened: they praise the merits and superiority of their adversaries with words , but then imply the exact
2014.808 opposite, and grunt and murmur when they don’t obtain it. « For you, Brother Dámaso!  » « For you, Brother Sibyla!
2022.808  » « Oldest acquaintance in the house… confessor of the deceased… age, dignity, and government…
2028.448  » « Not very old, let’s say! » « On the other hand, you are the priest of the
2033.568 suburb! » replied Friar Dámaso in a sour tone, without letting go of the chair. « As you command, I obey! » concluded Father Sibyla,
2041.248 preparing to sit down. « I do not command! » protested the Franciscan; « I do not command! »
2046.808 Friar Sibyla was about to sit down, ignoring the protests, when his eyes met those of the lieutenant.
2053.8 The highest officer is, according to religious opinion in the Philippines, far inferior to the lay
2060.44 cook. Cedant arma togæ, said Cicero in the Senate; cedant arma
2066.36 cottæ, the friars say in the Philippines. But Friar Sibyla was a refined person and replied:
2072.2 « Lieutenant, we are here in the world and not in the church; the seat belongs to him.  » But, judging by the tone of his voice, even in the world it belonged to
2082.2 him. The lieutenant, either to avoid being bothered or to avoid sitting between two friars, briefly declined.
2089.28 None of the candidates had remembered the owner of the house. Ibarra saw him contemplating the scene with satisfaction and
2095.48 smiling. « What, Don Santiago! Aren’t you sitting among us? »
2100.52 But all the seats were already occupied: Lucullus didn’t eat at Lucullus’s house.
« Hush! Don’t get up! » said Capt. Tiago, placing his hand
2110.92 on the young man’s shoulder. « This feast is precisely to give thanks to the Virgin for your arrival. Oy! Bring the
2118.6 tinola. I ordered tinola to be made for you, it’s been a while since you ‘ve tasted it. »
2123.76 A large, steaming basin was brought in. The Dominican, after murmuring the « Benedicite, » to which almost no one knew how to respond, began to distribute
2131.88 the contents. But whether through carelessness or something else, Father Dámaso ended up with the plate containing a
2140.04 bare neck and a tough chicken wing swimming amidst the squash and broth, while the others ate legs
2145.6 and breasts, especially Ibarra, who was left with the giblets. The Franciscan saw everything, mashed the zucchini,
2154.04 took a little broth, dropped the spoon with a clatter, and abruptly pushed the plate forward. The Dominican was very distracted,
2161.88 talking with the blond young man. « How long have you been missing from the country? » Laruja asked Ibarra.
2167.08 « Almost seven years.  » « Come on, you’ve probably forgotten about him! »
2172.128 « Quite the contrary: and although my country seemed to have forgotten me, I’ve always thought about him.  » « What do you mean? » asked the blond man.
2179.408 « I wanted to say that a year ago I stopped receiving news from here,
2184.808 so much so that I feel like a stranger, not even knowing when or how your father died.
2190.448  » « Ah! » exclaimed the lieutenant. « And where were you that you haven’t telegraphed? » asked Doña
2196.048 Victorina. « When we were married, we telegraphed to the Peninsula [10]. « Madam, these last two years I was in the north of Europe: in
2205.408 Germany and in Russian Poland.  » Doctor de Espadaña, who until now had not dared to speak,
2211.008 thought it advisable to say something. « W… I knew in Spain a Pole from Warsaw,
2217.168 named Stadnitzki, if I remember correctly; have you seen him by chance? » he asked timidly, almost blushing.
2225.488 « It’s quite possible, » Ibarra answered kindly; « but at this moment I don’t remember. »
2231.608 « Well, you couldn’t mistake him for anyone else! » added the doctor, who had regained his composure. He was blond as gold and spoke Spanish very poorly.
2241.648 « They’re good signs, but unfortunately I haven’t spoken a word of Spanish there except in a few consulates.
2247.448  » « And how did you manage? » asked Doña Victorina, amazed. « I used the language of the country, madam.
2254.248  » « Do you also speak English? » asked the Dominican, who had been to Hong Kong and spoke Pidgin English well, [11] that adulteration
2261.448 of Shakespeare’s language by the children of the Celestial Empire. « I spent a year in England among people who only spoke
2267.888 English.  » « And what is the country you like most in Europe? » asked the blond young man.
2273.088 « After Spain, my second homeland, any country in free Europe.  » « And you, who seem to have traveled so much…
2279.232 well, what is the most remarkable thing you have seen? » asked Laruja. Ibarra seemed to reflect.
2286.352 –Notable in what sense? –For example….. regarding the life of the people….. social,
2291.672 political, religious life, in general, in essence, in the whole… Ibarra began to meditate for a long time.
2299.032 –Frankly, I like everything about those people, apart from the national pride of each one… Before visiting a country, I tried to study
2307.432 its history, its Exodus, if I may say so, and then I found everything natural; I have always seen that the prosperity or misery of peoples
2316.792 is in direct proportion to their liberties or concerns, and consequently, to the sacrifices or selfishness of their ancestors.
2325.872 –And haven’t you seen more than that?–asked the Franciscan with a mocking laugh, who hadn’t said a single word since the beginning of dinner
2333.432 , perhaps distracted by the food; –it wasn’t worth wasting your fortune to know so little: any
2342.512 school smock [12] knows that! Ibarra was at a loss for words. The others, surprised, looked
2349.472 from one to the other, fearing a scandal. « Dinner is drawing to a close, and
2356.352 Sir Thomas is already fed up, » the young man was about to say, but he checked himself and only
2361.552 said the following: « Gentlemen, do not be surprised at the familiarity with which
2367.112 our old priest treats me; that is how he treated me when I was a child, for for Sir Thomas
2372.152 the years pass in vain; but I am grateful to you because it reminds me of those days when Sir Thomas frequently visited our house and
2381.352 graced my father’s table. » The Dominican glanced furtively at the Franciscan, who had begun
2386.712 to tremble. Ibarra continued, rising: « You will allow me to retire, because, having just arrived
2395.712 and having to leave tomorrow, I have much business to clear up. The main part of dinner is over, and I drink little wine and
2404.592 barely touch any liquor. Gentlemen, everything for Spain and the Philippines! » And he drained a small glass, which he had not touched until then. The old
2412.816 lieutenant imitated him, but without saying a word. « Don’t go! » Captain Tiago was saying to him in a low voice.  »
2421.736 María Clara will arrive: Isabel has gone to get her out. The new priest from your town will come, he’s a saint.
2428.576  » « I’ll come tomorrow before I leave! Today I have a very important visit to make. »
2433.896 And he left. Meanwhile, the Franciscan was unburdening himself. « Have you seen him? » he said to the blond young man, gesturing with his hand.
2441.336 Dessert knife. « That’s out of pride! They can’t tolerate the priest reprimanding them! They already think they’re decent
2450.376 people! It’s the bad consequence of sending young people to Europe. The government should have banned it .
2456.256  » « And the lieutenant? » said Doña Victorina, joining in the Franciscan’s echo. « He hasn’t lifted his brow all night; he
2464.416 did well to leave us. So old and yet he’s still a lieutenant!  » The lady couldn’t forget the allusion to her curls and the
2472.816 trampled tufting of her petticoats. That night the blond young man was writing, among other things, the
2480.176 following chapter of his Colonial Studies: « How a chicken’s neck and wing in a friar’s plate of tinola can disturb the joy of
2488.336 a feast. » And among his observations were these: « In the Philippines, the
2493.376 most useless person at a dinner or party is the one who gives it:
2499.216 they can start by throwing the owner of the house out into the street and everything will continue peacefully.  » In the present state of things, it is almost doing them
2507.256 a favor not to allow the Filipinos to leave their country, nor to teach them to read… Chapter 4.
2513.016 HERETIC AND FILIBUSTER. Ibarra was undecided. The night wind, which in those months
2518.656 is usually quite fresh in Manila, seemed to erase from his brow the light cloud that had obscured it; he uncovered his head and breathed.
2528.328 Carriages flashed by, rented carriages at a sluggish pace,
2533.968 passers-by of different nationalities. With that uneven gait that makes one familiar with the distracted or the idle, the young man headed
2542.008 toward the plaza of Binondo [13], looking everywhere as if he wanted to recognize something. They were the same streets with the same houses painted
2550.408 in white and blue, and walls whitewashed or frescoed in
2555.608 a poor imitation of granite; the church tower still displayed its clock
2560.968 with its translucent face; They were the same Chinese-owned shops with their dirty curtains and iron bars, one of which
2569.208 he had twisted one night, imitating the ill-mannered boys of Manila;
2575.088 no one had straightened it. « It’s going slowly! » he murmured, and continued along Sacristy Street.
2581.848 The sherbet vendors were still shouting, « Sorbet! » The lamps or lanterns still lit up the same stalls of Chinese women and men
2591.088 selling food and fruit. « It’s marvelous! » he exclaimed. « It’s the same Chinese man from seven years ago,
2598.248 and the old woman… the same one! You’d say last night I dreamed of seven years of traveling in Europe!… and, good God! The stone
2607.088 is still as disarrayed as when I left it. In fact, the stone of the sidewalk that forms
2613.048 the corner of San Jacinto Street and Sacristy Street was still loose. As he contemplated this marvel of urban stability in the land
2620.048 of instability, a hand gently rested on his shoulder. He raised
2625.248 his face and found himself staring at him, almost smiling. The soldier no longer had that harsh expression and those
2634.208 furrowed brows that characterized him so much. « Young man, be careful! Learn from your father! » he said.
2642.288 « Forgive me, but it seems to me that you loved my father very much. Could you tell me what his fate was? » Ibarra asked,
2649.696 looking at him. « What, you don’t know? » the soldier asked. « I asked Don Santiago, but he didn’t promise to tell me
2657.496 until tomorrow. Do you happen to know?  » « I certainly do, like everyone else! He died in prison.  »
2663.456 The young man took a step back and stared at the lieutenant. « In prison? Who died in prison? » he asked.
2670.016 « Well, your father, he was in prison! » the soldier replied, somewhat surprised.
2675.416 « My father… in jail… imprisoned in jail? What are you saying? Do you know who my father was? Are you in? » the
2683.856 young man asked, taking the soldier’s arm. « I don’t think I’m mistaken; it was Don Rafael Ibarra.
2689.856  » « Yes, Don Rafael Ibarra! » the young man repeated weakly. « Well, I thought you knew! » the soldier murmured, his voice
2697.336 full of compassion, reading what was going on in Ibarra’s soul. « I supposed that you… but take courage! You can’t be here. »
2705.536 honorable without having gone to jail! « I must believe you’re not playing with me, » Ibarra replied in a weak voice,
2711.816 after a few moments of silence. « Could you tell me why you were in jail? »
2718.616 The old man seemed to reflect. « I find it very strange that they haven’t informed you of
2723.696 your family’s business.  » « Your last letter, a year ago, told me not to worry if
2729.216 you didn’t write to me, as you would be very busy; you recommended that I continue studying… you blessed me!
2734.776  » « Well, then, he wrote that letter to you before he died: it will soon be a year since we buried him in your town.
2742.416  » « For what reason was my father imprisoned?  » « For a very honorable reason. But follow me, I have to go to the
2749.136 barracks; I’ll tell you while walking. Lean on my arm. » They walked for some time in silence: the old man seemed to reflect
2757.584 and ask for inspiration from the beard he was stroking. « As you know very well, » he began, « your father was the
2763.824 richest man in the province, and although he was loved and respected by many, others hated or envied him. We Spaniards who come
2772.064 to the Philippines are unfortunately not what we should have been: I say this as much for one of your grandfathers as for your
2779.744 father’s enemies. The constant changes, the demoralization of the upper echelons, favoritism, the cheapness and shortness of the voyage are to blame for
2789.024 everything: the most lost of the Peninsula come here, and if a good one arrives, he soon corrupts the country. Well, your father had
2797.984 many enemies among the priests and the Spaniards. » Here he paused briefly. « Months after your departure, the disagreements with
2807.584 Father Dámaso began, without me being able to explain the true reason. Brother Dámaso accused him of not going to confession: before, he didn’t go to confession either,
2816.184 and yet they were very close friends, as you will still remember. » Besides, Don Rafael was a very honorable man, and more just than many who
2823.664 confess and keep confessing. He held himself to a very rigid moral code, and he used to say to me when he spoke to me about these unpleasantries: « Mr. Guevara, do
2831.944 you believe that God forgives a crime, a murder, for example, simply by telling it to a priest, a man who, after all, has the duty to keep quiet
2841.944 and fear burning in hell, which is the act of attrition? By being a coward, shameless for sure? I have a different idea of ​​God, » he said.  »
2851.824 For me, you don’t correct an evil with another evil, nor is it forgiven with vain
2857.504 whining, nor with alms to the Church. » And he gave me this example: if I have murdered the father of a family, if I have made a woman
2866.736 an unhappy widow, and some happy children helpless orphans, will I have satisfied eternal Justice by letting myself be hanged, by entrusting
2875.976 the secret to someone who will keep it for me, by giving alms to the priests who need it least, by buying the papal bull of composition, or by whining
2884.096 night and day? And the widow and the orphans? My conscience tells me that I must replace, as far as possible, the person I murdered, devote
2892.456 my entire life to the good of this family whose misfortune I have made, and even then, who can replace the love of a husband and a father? This is how
2900.136 your father reasoned about you, and he always acted with this severe morality, and it may be said that he has never offended anyone. On the contrary,
2908.096 he tried to erase with good works certain injustices that he said his grandparents had committed. But returning to his disagreements with the
2916.696 priest, they took a bad temper. Father Dámaso alluded to him from the
2921.936 pulpit, and if he didn’t name him clearly it was a miracle, because with his character anything could be expected. I foresaw that sooner or later
2930.976 things were going to end badly. The old lieutenant paused again briefly.
2938.296 « A former artilleryman was then traveling through your province, thrown out of the ranks for being too stupid and ignorant… Since the man had to
2946.056 live, and wasn’t allowed to engage in physical labor that might damage our prestige, he obtained from I don’t know who the job
2954.216 of collecting taxes on vehicles. The unfortunate man had received no education, and the indigenous people knew him very quickly: for them,
2963.096 a Spaniard who can’t read or write is a phenomenon. Everything was mocking the wretch, who shamefully paid the tax
2972.136 he collected, and knew he was the object of ridicule, which further soured his already rude and evil character.
2978.232 They intentionally gave him the writing backward; he pretended to read it and signed where he saw
2985.792 white with some scribbles that properly represented him. The indigenous people paid, but they mocked him; he gulped, but collected,
2995.392 and in this frame of mind he respected no one, and with your father he had even exchanged some very harsh words.
3003.112 It happened that one day, while he was turning over a piece of paper that had been given to him in a store, wanting to put it right side up, a boy from
3012.192 the school began to make signs to his classmates, laugh, and point at him with his finger. The man heard the laughter and saw the mockery playing on the
3021.072 serious faces of those present; He lost his patience, turned quickly, and began chasing the boys, who ran
3029.352 shouting: ba, bee, bi, bo, bu. Blinded by rage and unable to catch them , he threw his stick, striking one of them in the head and knocking him
3037.672 down. He then ran toward him, kicked him, and none of those present
3042.832 who were jeering had the courage to intervene. Unfortunately , his father was passing by; indignant, he ran up to the collector, grabbed him by the
3052.032 arm, and harshly rebuked him. The latter, who undoubtedly saw red,
3057.312 raised his hand, but his father didn’t give him time, and with that strength that betrays the grandson of the Basques… some say he hit him,
3066.912 others that he contented himself with pushing him; the fact is that the man faltered, fell a few steps away, hitting his head against a stone. Don Rafael
3077.272 calmly picked up the wounded boy and took him to the tribunal. The former artilleryman spurted blood and never recovered, dying
3085.712 a few minutes later. Naturally, justice intervened, your father was arrested, and all his hidden enemies then rose up
3094.432 . Slander rained down; he was accused of being a filibuster and a heretic.
3100.4 Being a heretic is a great disgrace everywhere, especially at that
3106.32 time, when the province had as mayor a man who boasted of devotion, who with his servants would pray the rosary aloud in church
3115.36 , perhaps so that everyone could hear him and pray with him. But being a filibuster is worse than being a heretic and killing three
3124.92 tax collectors who know how to read, write, and distinguish. Everyone abandoned him; his papers and books were collected. He was accused of
3133.32 subscribing to El Correo de Ultramar and Madrid newspapers, of having sent you to German-speaking Switzerland, of having been found
3142.36 with letters and the portrait of an executed priest, and what else do I know? Accusations were made of everything, even his shirt, even though he was
3150.36 a descendant of peninsular descendants. Had it been someone else, your father might have been released sooner, for a doctor attributed
3159.52 the unfortunate tax collector’s death to congestion; but his fortune,
3164.64 his faith in justice, and his hatred of anything that was neither legal nor just, brought him down. I myself, despite my reluctance to implore
3173.56 anyone’s favor, presented myself to the Captain General, our predecessor . I made it clear to him that no one could be a filibuster who welcomes
3182.44 every Spaniard, poor or immigrant, giving them shelter and food, and in whose veins the generous Spanish blood still boils. In vain I responded with
3191.68 my head, swore on my poverty and my military honor, and only managed to
3196.76 be poorly received, even worse dismissed, and nicknamed a lunatic. The old man paused to take a breath, and seeing the silence of his
3203.96 companion, who listened without looking at him, continued: « I conducted the proceedings for the lawsuit on behalf of your father. » I went to the
3211.64 famous Filipino lawyer, young A, but he refused to take on the case. « I would lose it, » he told me.
3218.544 My defense would be a reason for new accusations against him and perhaps against me. Go to Mr.
3224.984 M, who is a vehement orator, easy to speak, a peninsular native, and who
3230.424 enjoys a great deal of prestige. So I did, and the famous lawyer took charge of the case, which he defended with mastery and brilliance. But the
3238.744 enemies were many, some hidden and unknown. False witnesses abounded, and their slanders, which would have been discredited elsewhere,
3247.224 Dissipated by an ironic or sarcastic remark from the defense attorney, they took
3252.464 shape and substance. If the lawyer managed to nullify them by setting them at odds with each other and with themselves, other
3260.104 accusations soon arose. They accused him of having unjustly seized many plots of land; they demanded damages; they said
3268.664 he maintained relations with the tulisanes so that their crops and animals would be respected. Finally, the matter became so entangled
3275.664 that after a year, no one understood each other. The mayor had to leave his post; another one came who had a reputation for integrity, but this one,
3285.264 unfortunately, barely stayed for a few months; and the one who succeeded him loved
3290.304 good horses too much. The suffering, the disappointments, the inconveniences of imprisonment,
3296.064 or the pain of seeing so many ingrates, altered his iron health, and he fell ill with that ailment that only the grave cures. And when it was all about to
3304.424 end, when he was about to be acquitted of the charge of being an enemy of the Fatherland and of the death of the tax collector, he died in prison without
3313.464 anyone at his side. I arrived to see him expire. The old man fell silent; Ibarra didn’t say a single word. In the meantime, they had
3322.504 reached the barracks door. The soldier stopped and, extending his hand, said:
3328.104 « Young man, ask Captain Tiago for the details. Now, good night! You must see if anything new has happened. »
3336.696 Ibarra shook that gaunt hand effusively and in silence,
3342.416 and silently followed him with his eyes until he disappeared. He turned slowly and saw a carriage passing; he signaled to the
3349.096 coachman. « Lala’s Inn! » he said in a barely intelligible tone. « This one must be coming from the dungeon, » thought the coachman, giving
3356.576 his horses a whiplash . Chapter 5. A STAR IN A DARK NIGHT Ibarra went up to his room overlooking the river, and threw himself into an armchair,
3366.576 looking at the space that expanded in front of him, thanks to the open window. The house opposite, on the other bank, was profusely illuminated
3377.016 , and the cheerful strains of instruments, mostly stringed, reached him . Had the young man been less worried, had he
3384.976 been more curious and chosen to see with the aid of a pair of binoculars what was passing in that atmosphere of light, he would have admired one of those fantastic
3394.216 visions, one of those magical apparitions that are sometimes seen in the great theaters of Europe, in which, to the subdued melodies of an
3402.576 orchestra, a deity, a sylph, appears , in an oriental setting, wrapped in vaporous
3411.176 gauze, advancing almost without touching the ground, surrounded and accompanied by a luminous halo. At her presence
3420.936 , flowers spring up, dances frolic, harmonies are awakened, and choruses of devils, nymphs, satyrs, genii, maidens, angels, and shepherds dance, shake
3431.736 tambourines, perform feats, and place at the feet of the goddess. Each one a tribute. Ibarra would have seen a very beautiful, slender young woman,
3440.256 dressed in the picturesque costume of the Daughters of the Philippines, in the center of a semicircle formed by all kinds of people, gesticulating and
3449.536 moving animatedly: there were Chinese, Spanish, Filipino,
3455.296 military, priests, old, young, etc. Father Dámaso stood beside
3461.648 that beauty; Father Dámaso smiled like a blessed man; Brother
3467.168 Sibyla, Brother Sibyla himself, was speaking to him, and Doña Victorina arranged in the young woman’s magnificent hair a string of pearls and
3476.008 diamonds that reflected the most beautiful colors of the prism. She was white, perhaps too white; her eyes, which were almost always
3484.488 lowered, revealed a very pure soul when she raised them, and when she smiled and revealed her white, small teeth,
3493.888 one could say that a rose is simply a vegetable, and ivory,
3499.928 an elephant’s tusk. Between the transparent tissue of the pineapple [14] and around her white and shapely neck blinked, as
3508.808 the Tagalogs say, the cheerful eyes of a necklace of diamonds. Only one man did not seem to feel its luminous influence, so to speak:
3518.248 this was a young Franciscan, thin, gaunt, pale, who He gazed motionless, from afar, like a statue, hardly breathing.
3526.968 But Ibarra saw none of this: his eyes saw something else. Four
3533.768 bare, filthy walls enclosed a small space; high up in one of them was a grate; on the filthy, disgusting
3544.288 floor, a mat, and on the mat, an old man in his death throes. The old man, breathing with difficulty, looked in all directions
3554.648 and wept, calling out a name. The old man was alone; from time to time, the sound of a chain or a groan could be heard through the
3563.288 wall… and then, far away, a joyful feast, almost a bacchanal, a young man laughing, shouting, spilling wine on the flowers to the applause and
3574.768 the intoxicated laughter of the others. And the old man had his father’s features , the young man resembled him, and the name that the other man
3583.808 wept, calling out was his own! This was what the unfortunate man saw before him.
3588.984 The lights went out in the house across the street, the music and noise ceased, but Ibarra
3594.584 could still hear his father’s anguished cry, searching for a son in his final hour.
3600.024 Silence had breathed its hollow breath over Manila, and everything seemed to
3605.304 sleep in the arms of nothingness. The rooster’s crowing could be heard alternating with the clock towers and the melancholy cry
3614.264 of the bored sentry; a sliver of moonlight was beginning to peek out; everything
3620.024 seemed to rest; yes, Ibarra himself was sleeping now, perhaps tired from his sad thoughts or from the journey.
3627.544 But the young Franciscan, whom we had recently seen motionless and silent in the midst of the bustle of the room, wasn’t sleeping, he was watching. With his elbow
3636.504 on the windowsill of his cell, his pale and emaciated face resting on the palm of his hand, he silently gazed into the distance
3645.824 at a star shining in the dark sky. The star paled and was eclipsed, the moon lost its few glimmering gleams;
3654.264 but the friar did not move from his place: he gazed at the distant horizon that was lost in the morning mist, toward the Bagumbayan countryside,
3661.864 toward the still-sleeping sea. Chapter 6. CAPTAIN TIAGO.
3667.024 Thy will be done on earth! While our characters sleep or have breakfast, let us concern ourselves
3674.504 with Captain Tiago. We have never been his guest;
3680.144 therefore, we have neither the right nor the duty to despise him by ignoring him, even in important circumstances.
3687.544 Short in stature, light in complexion, round of body and face thanks to an abundance of fat, which, according to his admirers, came from
3696.984 heaven, from the blood of the poor according to his enemies, Captain Tiago appeared younger than he really was: one would have believed him to be
3706.344 thirty to thirty-five years old. The expression on his face was constantly beatific at the time to which our narrative refers
3714.752 . His skull, round, small, and covered with hair as black
3719.912 as ebony, long in front and very short in back, contained many things, they say, within its cavity; his eyes were small,
3728.672 but not slanted, and never changed expression; his nose was fine, not flat, and if his mouth had not been disfigured by the
3737.312 abuse of tobacco and buyo, whose sapá [15] meeting in one cheek
3742.752 altered the symmetry of his features, we would say that he did very well to believe himself and sell himself as a handsome man. Nevertheless, despite this abuse,
3751.832 he always kept his own teeth white and the two that the dentist lent him, at the rate of twelve duros.
3758.992 He was considered one of the richest landowners in Binondo and one of the most important landowners because of his lands in Pampanga
3766.672 and in Laguna de Bay, mainly in the town of San Diego, whose canon or rent increased every year. San Diego was
3774.912 his favorite town for its pleasant baths, famous cockpit [16] and the memories he retains of it: he spent at least two months of the year there.
3784.552 Captain Tiago had many farms in Santo Cristo, on Anloague Street and on Rosario Street; he and a Chinese person ran the opium trade
3794.312 , and it is idle to say that they made enormous profits. He supplied
3799.552 food to the prisoners of Bilibid, and grass [17] to many important houses.
3805.032 from Manila, through contracts, of course. On good terms with all authorities, skillful, flexible, and even bold when it came to speculating
3814.552 on the needs of others, he was the sole and fearsome rival of a certain Pérez in the leasing and auctioning of offices or jobs, which the
3823.472 Philippine government always entrusts to private hands. So, at the time of these events, Captain Tiago was a happy man, as
3833.24 far as a man of small mind can be happy in those lands;
3838.36 he was rich, he was at peace with God, with the government, and with men. That he was at peace with God was undeniable,
3847.24 almost dogmatic: there was no reason to be at odds with the good God when one is well off on earth, when one has never communicated with Him, nor lent Him
3854.88 money. He had never turned to Him in his prayers, not even in his greatest straits; he was rich, and his gold prayed for him; for
3864.48 masses and supplications, God had created powerful and haughty priests;
3869.68 For novenas and rosaries, God in his infinite goodness had created
3875.12 poor people for the good of the rich, poor people who for one peso are capable of praying sixteen mysteries and reading all the holy books, even
3883.92 the Hebrew Bible if the payment is increased; and if ever in great difficulty he needed heavenly aid and couldn’t find even a red Chinese candle at hand
3892.84 , he would turn to the saints he worshipped, promising them many things to oblige them and fully convince them
3902.64 of the goodness of his desires. But to whom he promised the most, and kept his promise, was the Virgin of Antipolo, Our Lady of Peace and
3910.6 Buenviaje, for with certain minor saints the man was neither very punctual nor decent. Sometimes, once he had obtained what he desired, he would not
3919.52 remember them again; it is true that he would not bother them again, if the opportunity presented itself. Captain Tiago knew that in the calendar
3929.12 there were many unoccupied saints, who perhaps had nothing to do up there in heaven. To the Virgin of Antipolo, moreover, he attributed greater power
3937.728 and efficacy than to all the other Virgins, whether they carried silver staffs, naked or clothed Infant Jesuses, or scapulars, rosaries
3946.848 , or thongs. Perhaps this is due to her reputation as a very severe lady, very careful with her name, an enemy of photography,
3956.088 according to the Chief Sacristan of Antipolo, and who, when angry, turns as black as ebony. And because the other Virgins are softer-hearted
3964.768 , more indulgent. It is well known that certain souls love an
3970.128 absolute king more than a constitutional one; Louis XIV and Louis XVI,
3975.768 Philip II and Amadeo I can tell you this. Perhaps for this reason, one also sees
3982.008 unfaithful Moors and even Spaniards kneeling in the famous sanctuary
3987.248 ; only it is not explained why the priests escape with the money from the terrible Image, go to America, and marry there.
3995.888 That door in the living room, hidden by a silk curtain, leads to a small chapel or oratory, which should be indispensable in any
4005.288 Filipino home. There are the household gods of Captain Tiago, and we say
4010.768 household gods because this gentleman was more in favor of polytheism than monotheism, which he had never understood. There are
4019.848 images of the Holy Family with ivory busts and limbs , crystal eyes, long eyelashes, and curly blond hair,
4030.848 exquisite sculptures of Santa Cruz. Oil paintings by the artists of Paco and Hermita depict martyrdoms of saints,
4039.128 miracles of the Virgin, etc .; Saint Lucy looking up to heaven and holding on a plate two other eyes with eyelashes and eyebrows, like those seen
4049.512 painted on the triangle of the Trinity or on Egyptian sarcophagi; Saint Pascual Baylon, Saint Anthony of Padua in a gingham habit [18],
4060.992 tearfully contemplating a Child Jesus dressed as a Captain General, with a tricorn hat, sabre and boots as in the children’s dance of Madrid:
4070.872 for Captain Tiago this meant that even if God added to his power that of a Captain General of the Philippines, the
4079.712 Franciscans would always play with him as with a doll. We also see a Saint Anthony the Abbot with a pig at his side, a pig that for the worthy captain was as miraculous
4087.432 as the saint himself, for which reason he did not dare to call him a pig, but a creature of the holy Lord Saint Anthony; a Saint Francis of Assisi with
4096.912 seven wings and a coffee-colored habit placed over a Saint Vincent
4102.112 who has only two, but instead carries a cornet; a Saint Peter the Martyr with his head split open by a criminal’s talibon [19],
4111.952 wielded by an infidel on his knees, next to a Saint Peter who is cutting off the ear of a Moor, Malchus without a doubt, who is biting his lips and
4121.072 writhing in pain, while a sasabungin rooster [20] crows and flaps its wings on a Doric column, from which Captain
4130.512 James deduced that to be a saint was to be divided as to be divided. Who can enumerate that army of images and describe the qualities
4139.192 and perfections treasured there? A chapter would not be enough! However, we will not pass over in silence a beautiful Saint
4147.872 Michael, made of gilded and painted wood, almost a meter high: the archangel, biting his lower lip, has glowing eyes,
4157.072 a wrinkled forehead, and rosy cheeks; he clutches a Greek shield and
4162.392 brandishes a Joloo-style kris in his right hand, ready to wound the devotee or anyone who approaches (as can be deduced from his attitude and gaze) rather
4172.352 than the horned, tailed demon sinking his fangs into his maiden leg. Captain Tiago never approached him, fearing a
4179.912 miracle. How many times has more than one image, no matter how poorly carved, like those that come out of the carpentry shops of
4187.304 Paete [21], come to life, to the confusion and punishment of unbelieving fishermen? It is said that a certain Christ of Spain, invoked as a witness to promises of
4196.664 love, nodded in agreement before the judge, that another
4201.784 Christ unnailed his right arm to embrace Saint Lutgard. So what? Hadn’t he read a little book, recently published about a
4211.104 mime sermon preached by an image of Saint Dominic in Soriano? The saint didn’t say a single word, but from his gestures it was deduced, or
4220.424 the author of the little book deduced, that he announced the end of the world. [22] Wasn’t it also said that the Virgin of Luta from the town of Lipa had one cheek
4228.464 more swollen than the other, and the edges of her dress were muddy? Doesn’t this prove mathematically that sacred images also
4236.664 go for walks without lifting their dresses and even suffer toothaches , perhaps because of us? Hadn’t he seen with his own
4246.664 eyes all the Christs in the sermon on the Seven Words move and bow their heads in time three times, provoking the weeping
4254.464 and screaming of all the women and sensitive souls destined for heaven? More? We ourselves have seen the preacher show the
4262.144 public, at the moment of the descent from the cross, a handkerchief stained
4267.384 with blood, and we were about to weep piously, when, to our souls’ misfortune, a sacristan assured us that it was a joke: it was
4278.184 the blood of a hen, roasted and eaten incontinenti despite it being Good Friday… and the sacristan was fat.
4286.184 Captain Tiago, then, being a prudent and religious man, avoids approaching the Christ of
4292.144 Saint Michael. « Let’s avoid occasions! » he said to himself; I know he’s
4297.464 an archangel, but no, I don’t trust it, I don’t trust it! » Not a year went by without him attending the opulent Antipolo
4304.184 pilgrimage with an orchestra . He then paid for two of the many grace masses that make up the three novenas and the other days when there are no novenas,
4315.144 and then bathed in the renowned batis or fountain where the sacred Image itself bathed. Devout people still see the imprint of
4324.104 the feet and the trail of hair on the hard rock when they wipe them, just like any woman who uses coconut oil,
4332.744 and as if her hair were made of steel or diamond, and weighed a thousand tons. We wish that the terrible Image would
4342.224 once shake its sacred hair before the eyes of these devout people, and place its foot on their tongue or head. There, next to that same
4351.624 fountain, Captain Tiago must eat roast suckling pig, sinigang of dalag with
4356.704 alibambang leaves [23] and other more or less appetizing stews. The
4362.224 two masses cost him a little more than four hundred pesos, but
4367.464 They were cheap if one were to consider the glory that the Mother of God acquired with the wheels of fire, rockets, bombs, and mortars,
4375.984 or versos as they are called there, if one were to calculate the great profits that, thanks to these masses, she was to obtain during the rest
4384.504 of the year. But Antipolo was not the only theater of her noisy devotion. In
Binondo, in Pampanga, and in the town of San Diego, whenever he had to
4393.176 play a rooster with large stakes, he would send the priest gold coins for propitiatory masses, and, like the Romans who consulted their
4403.016 augurs before a battle while feeding the sacred chickens, Captain Tiago also consulted his own, with the modifications
4411.176 appropriate to the times and new truths. He observed the flame of the candles, the smoke of the incense, the voice of the priest, etc., and from their
4421.816 tone he tried to deduce his future fate. It is a widely accepted belief that Captain Tiago loses few bets, and these are due to the
4430.416 officiant being hoarse, the lights being too dim, the candles too fat, or a counterfeit coin slipping among the coins, etc.,
4439.856 etc. The warden of a brotherhood assured him that these disappointments
4444.896 were tests to which heaven subjected him to further assure him of his faith and devotion. Loved by the priests, respected by the sacristans, pampered
4454.576 by the candle makers and the pyrotechnicians or castillers, the man
4460.136 was happy in the religion of this land, and people of character and
4466.096 great piety also attribute great influence to him in the heavenly Court. That he was at peace with the Government is beyond doubt, however difficult
4474.656 the matter may seem. Unable to imagine a new thought, and content with his modus vivendi, he was always ready to obey
4483.096 the lowest official in every office, to give away legs of ham, capons, turkeys, and Chinese fruit at any time of
4490.896 year. If he heard the natives spoken ill of, he, not considering himself as such, would join in and speak worse; if the mestizos
4500.016 sangleyes [24] or Spaniards were criticized, he criticized himself too, perhaps because he already believed himself to be a pure Iberian. He was the first to applaud any imposition or
4508.736 contribution , especially when he smelled a contract or a lease behind it . He always had orchestras at hand to congratulate and confront
4517.216 [25] all kinds of governors, mayors, prosecutors, etc., etc.,
4524.296 on their holidays, birthdays, the birth or death of a relative, in short, at any alteration in the usual monotony. For this purpose, he commissioned
4533.016 laudatory verses, hymns celebrating the gentle and affectionate governor, the brave and courageous mayor, whose
4543.256 palm of honor (or palmeta) awaits him in heaven, among other things. He was a gobernadorcillo (little governor) of the wealthy mestizo guild, despite the
4550.896 protests of many who did not consider him as such. In his two years in office, he ruined ten tailcoats, as many top hats, and half
4558.256 a dozen walking sticks: the tailcoat and the top hat in the City Hall, in Malacañang, and in the barracks; the top hat and the tailcoat in
4568.496 the cockpit, in the market, in processions, in the stores of the Chinese people; and beneath the hat and inside the tailcoat, Captain Tiago
4578.776 sweated while fencing with his tasseled cane, arranging, arranging, and arranging everything with astonishing activity and an
4587.536 even more astonishing seriousness. So the authorities saw in him a man endowed with the best will, peaceful, submissive, obedient, and obsequious,
4597.616 who did not read any book or newspaper from Spain, although he spoke
4602.736 Spanish well; they looked at him with the feeling with which a poor student contemplates the worn heel of his old shoe, bent due to his
4612.616 way of walking. For him, both the Christian and secular phrases « beati pauperes spiritu » and « beati possidentes » were true, and one could very well
4622.416 apply to him that, according to some, mistaken translation from the
4627.976 Greek: « Glory to God in the highest and peace to men of good will on earth! » For, as we shall see later, it is not enough for
4637.216 men to have good will to live in peace. The impious took him for a fool, the poor for a ruthless, cruel exploiter of the
4645.016 misery, and his inferiors for a despot and tyrant. And the women? Ah,
4650.136 the women! Slanderous rumors buzz in the miserable nipa houses [26] and one is sure to hear laments, sobs, sometimes mingled
4659.976 with the wails of an infant. More than one young woman is pointed at by the malicious finger of the neighbors: her gaze is indifferent and
4667.376 her breasts wither. But these things do not keep him awake at night; no young woman disturbs his peace; it is an old woman who makes him suffer, an old woman
4677.136 who competes with him in devotion, and who has earned from many priests more enthusiastic praise and commendation than he ever
4685.096 achieved in his best days. Between Captain Tiago and this widow, heiress of brothers and nephews, there exists a holy emulation, which redounds to the good of the
4693.776 Church, as the competition of the steamers of Pampanga then redounded to the good of the public. Does Captain Tiago give a silver cane
4702.816 with emeralds and topazes to just any Virgin? Well, Doña Patrocinio is already ordering another one, made of gold and with diamonds, from the silversmith Gadáunez.
4712.096 For the Naval procession, Captain Tiago erected a two- sided arch of embossed fabric, with mirrors, glass globes, lamps,
4723.176 and chandeliers. Doña Patrocinio will have another one with four facades, two yards higher, with more flaps and sashes. But then
4732.416 he goes to his forte, his specialty, to masses with bombs and
4738.576 fireworks, and Doña Patrocinio has to bite her lip with her gums, because, excessively nervous, she can’t stand
4747.496 the ringing of the bells, much less the detonations. While he smiles, she thinks of her revenge and, with other people’s money, pays
4756.216 the best orators of the five Manila Corporations, the most famous canons of the Cathedral, and even the Paulists to
4765.216 preach on solemn days on theological and profound subjects
4770.496 to sinners who only understand the language of the store. Captain Tiago’s supporters have observed that she falls asleep during the sermon,
4778.256 but her supporters reply that the sermon has already been paid for, and for her, and in all things, paying is the most important thing. Recently,
4786.656 she astonished him by giving a church three silver and gilded floats, each of which will cost her more than three thousand pesos. Captain Tiago
4796.016 hopes that this old woman will finally breathe her best day or that she will lose five or six of her lawsuits, so that she can serve only God. Unfortunately,
4805.416 they are defended by the best lawyers of the Royal Court, and as for his health, the illness has no way of getting a hold of him: he resembles a
4815.176 steel wire, undoubtedly for the edification of souls, and he clings to this
4820.336 vale of tears with the tenacity of a skin rash. His supporters are confident that upon his death he will be
4828.216 canonized, and that Captain Tiago himself will still venerate him on the altars, which he accepts and promises as long as he dies soon.
4837.376 Such was Captain Tiago at that time. As for his background,
4842.896 he was the only son of a sugar merchant from Malabón, quite wealthy, but so miserly that he did not want to spend a penny to educate his son,
4851.096 for which reason Santiaguillo was raised by a good Dominican, a very virtuous man, who strove to teach him everything good he could and
4858.856 knew. Just when he was about to have the good fortune of being called a logician by his acquaintances—that is, when he was about to study logic—the death
4867.272 of his protector, followed by that of his father, put an end to his studies, and he then had to dedicate himself to business. He married a beautiful
4876.512 young woman from Santa Cruz who helped him make his fortune and gave him his social position. Doña Pía Alba was not content with buying sugar,
4885.392 coffee, and indigo: she wanted to sow, and the new couple bought land in
4890.672 San Diego, from which time she became friends with Father Dámaso and Don Rafael Ibarra, the richest capitalist in town.
4897.752 The lack of an heir in the first six years of marriage made this desire to accumulate wealth almost a reprehensible ambition, and
4906.112 yet Doña Pía was slender, robust, and well-formed. She performed novenas in vain ; she visited the Virgin of Caysasay in Taal
4914.272 on the advice of devotees of Saint Diego ; she gave alms; danced in the procession in
4920.512 In the middle of the May sun before the Virgin of Turumba
4925.712 in Pakil: all was in vain, until Friar Dámaso advised her to go to Obando, and
4932.072 there she danced at the feast of Saint Pascual Bailón, and asked for a son. It is known that in Obando there is a Trinity that grants sons and daughters at choice:
4941.512 Our Lady of Salambau, Saint Clare and Saint Pascual. Thanks to this
4946.832 wise advice, Doña Pía felt like a mother… Alas! Like the fisherman Shakespeare speaks of in Macbeth, who stopped singing when
4955.472 he found a treasure, she lost her joy, became very sad and was never seen to smile again. « Whimsical things! » everyone said,
4964.552 even Captain Tiago. A puerperal fever ended her sadness, leaving an orphaned beautiful girl whom Friar Dámaso
4973.336 himself took to the font ; And since Saint Pascual did not produce the child they asked for,
4979.536 they named her Maria Clara in honor of the Virgin of Salambau and Saint Clare, punishing the honorable Saint Pascual Bailón with silence
4987.696 . The girl grew up in the care of Aunt Isabel, that elderly woman of nun-like manners we saw at the beginning. She lived
4997.176 most of the year in San Diego for its healthy climate, and there Friar Dámaso held celebrations for her.
5002.576 Maria Clara did not have her father’s small eyes: like her mother, she had large, black eyes shaded by long eyelashes, cheerful
5012.216 and smiling when she played, sad, deep, and thoughtful when she wasn’t smiling. As a child, her curly hair was almost blond; her
5022.016 nose, of a correct profile, was neither sharp nor flat; her mouth
5027.296 resembled her mother’s small and graceful one, with the cheerful dimples on her cheeks. Her skin had the fineness of an onion layer and
5036.096 the whiteness of cotton, according to her crazed relatives, who found the trait of Captain Tiago’s paternity in
5044.856 María Clara’s small, well-shaped ears. Aunt Isabel attributed those semi-European features to the whims of Doña
5053.096 Pía; she remembered having seen her many times in the first months of
5058.376 pregnancy weep before Saint Anthony; another cousin of Captain Tiago was of the same opinion, but differed in the choice of
5066.496 saint; for her it was either the Virgin or Saint Michael. A famous philosopher,
5073.216 a cousin of Captain Tinong and who knew the Amat [27] by heart, sought
5078.416 the explanation in planetary influences. María Clara, idol of all, grew up among smiles and loves.
5085.384 The friars themselves celebrated her when, in processions, they dressed her in white, her abundant, curly hair woven with sampagas [28]
5095.744 and lilies, with two little silver and gold wings attached to the back of her dress, and two white doves in her hand, tied with blue ribbons. And
5105.544 then, she was so cheerful, her conversation so candidly childish, that Captain Tiago, mad with love, did nothing but bless the Saints
5114.304 of Obando and advise everyone to acquire beautiful sculptures. In southern countries, a girl at thirteen or fourteen years of age becomes
5123.064 a woman, like the bud of the night, a flower the next morning. During this period of transition, full of mystery and romanticism,
5132.584 María Clara entered the Beaterio de Santa Catalina, on the advice of the priest of Binondo, to receive a strict religious education from the nuns. With
5141.024 tears she said goodbye to Father Dámaso and to the only friend with whom she had played in her childhood, Crisóstomo Ibarra, who later
5149.664 also left for Europe. There, in that convent that communicates with the world through a double gate, and still under the surveillance
5157.504 of Mother Escucha, she lived for seven years. Each with his own particular aims and understanding the mutual inclination of the young people, Don
5165.824 Rafael and Captain Tiago arranged the union of their children and formed a company. This event, which took place some years
5174.464 after the departure of young Ibarra, was celebrated with equal joy by two hearts, each at different ends of the world and in very
5182.544 different circumstances. Chapter 7. IDYLL ON A ROOFTOP.
5188.344 The Song of Songs. Early that morning, Aunt Isabel and María Clara had gone to mass:
5195.072 the latter elegantly dressed, with a rosary of blue beads that Half of it served as a bracelet, and the other with her glasses to read
5203.232 the Anchor of Salvation during the Holy Sacrifice. The priest had scarcely left the altar when the young woman expressed
5210.272 her desire to leave, much to the surprise and displeasure of the good aunt, who believed her niece to be pious and fond of prayer,
5218.592 at least like a nun. Grumbling and crossing herself, the good old woman stood up. « Bah! May the good Lord forgive me, for he must know the
5226.712 hearts of young girls better than you, Aunt Isabel, » she would have said, to cut short her severe, but ultimately maternal, sermons.
5234.632 Now they have fainted, and María Clara distracts her impatience by knitting a silk purse, while the aunt tries to erase all traces
5243.312 of the previous party, beginning to wield the feather duster. Captain Tiago examines and reviews some papers.
5249.872 Every noise in the street, every car that passed, made the Virgin’s bosom throb and made her tremble. Ah, now she wishes she were back in her
5259.432 quiet convent, among her friends! There she could see him without trembling,
5264.592 without being upset! But wasn’t he your childhood friend? Didn’t you play so many games and even quarrel at times? I won’t say
5272.752 the reason for these things ; if you, who are reading this, have loved, you will understand, and if not,
5278.112 it’s useless for me to tell you: laymen don’t understand these mysteries.
5283.152 « I believe, Maria, that the doctor is right, » said Captain Tiago. « You must go to the provinces; you are very pale, you need some good
5290.152 air. What do you think, Malabón… or San Diego? » At the latter name, Maria Clara turned as red as a poppy and
5296.552 was unable to reply. « Now Isabel and you will go to the convent to take out your clothes and say goodbye
5303.104 to your friends, » continued Captain Tiago without raising his head;  »
5308.224 you will never enter it again. » María Clara felt that vague melancholy that takes hold of the soul when
5314.784 one leaves forever a place where one was happy, but another thought softened this pain.
5321.024 « And in four or five days, when you have new clothes, we’ll go to Malabón… Your godfather is no longer in San Diego; the priest you saw
5330.824 here last night, that young priest, is the new priest we have there,
5335.904 he’s a saint.  » « San Diego suits him better, cousin! » Aunt Isabel observed; « besides,
5341.824 the house we have there is better; and the fiesta is approaching. » María Clara wanted to hug her aunt, but she heard a carriage stop
5349.584 and turned pale. « Ah, that’s right! » Captain Tiago replied, and changing her tone, added:
5356.384 « Don Crisóstomo! » María Clara dropped the work she was holding in her hands; she tried
5361.984 to move, but couldn’t: a nervous shudder ran through her body. Footsteps were heard on the stairs, and then, a fresh, manly voice
5370.984 . As if this voice had possessed a magical power, the young woman shook off her emotion and ran, hiding in the oratory
5380.024 where the saints were. The two cousins ​​burst into laughter, and Ibarra still heard the sound of a door closing.
5386.904 Pale, breathing rapidly, the young woman clutched her throbbing
5392.624 breast and tried to listen. She heard the voice, that beloved voice, which for some time she had only heard in dreams; he was asking for her.
5400.336 Mad with joy, she kissed the nearest saint, Saint Anthony the Abbot—a happy saint,
5405.896 in life and in form, always with beautiful temptations! Then she looked for a hole, the one with the keyhole, to see and examine him. She smiled,
5415.416 and when her aunt brought her out of her contemplation, without knowing what she was doing,
5420.736 she threw herself around the old woman’s neck and showered her with repeated kisses. « But, silly, what’s the matter? » the old woman finally managed to say, wiping
5429.296 a tear from her withered eyes. María Clara was embarrassed and covered her eyes with her round arm.
5435.856 « Come on, get ready, come here! » the old woman added in an affectionate tone . « While he talks to your father about you… come, and don’t
5444.216 keep us waiting. » The young woman allowed herself to be led like a child, and there they locked themselves in their
5449.536 room. Captain Tiago and Ibarra were talking animatedly when Aunt
5455.376 Isabel appeared, half dragging her niece, who was looking everywhere
5460.456 , except at the people… What did those two souls say to each other, what did they communicate in that language
5466.936 of the eyes, more perfect than that of the lips, a language given to the
5471.976 soul so that sound does not disturb the ecstasy of feeling? In those moments, when the thoughts of happy beings
5479.536 penetrate through the pupils, the word is slow, coarse, weak, like the rough, clumsy sound of thunder in the dazzling
5488.856 light and the swiftness of a flash: it expresses an already known feeling,
5494.056 an already understood idea, and if it is used, it is because the ambition of the
5499.936 heart, which dominates the entire being and overflows with happiness, wants the entire human organism, with all its physical and psychic faculties,
5509.936 to manifest the poem of joys intoned by the spirit. To the question of love in a gaze that shines or veils,
5518.376 language has no answers: the answer is a smile, a kiss, or a sigh. And then, when the enamored couple, fleeing Aunt Isabel’s
5527.4 duster that raises the dust, went to the rooftop to chat freely among the small arbors, what did they
5535.24 tell each other in whispers, that you trembled, little red flowers with angel hair? Tell it, you who have scents on your
5544.24 breath and colors on your lips; you, zephyr, who learned rare harmonies in the secret of the dark night and in the mystery
5552.24 of our virgin forests; tell it, rays of the sun,
5557.88 brilliant manifestation of the Eternal on earth, the only immaterial in the world of matter; tell it, you, for I only know how to relate prosaic follies!
5566.76 But since you won’t do it, I’ll try it myself. The sky was blue; a fresh breeze, which did not smell of roses, stirred
5577.24 the leaves and flowers of the creepers—which is why the angel hair, the air plants, the dried fish, and the
5587.04 Chinese lanterns trembled. The sound of the saguan [29] stirring the turbid waters of the river, the passage of the carriages and carts over the Binondo bridge
5595.24 reached them distinctly, but not what the aunt was murmuring. “Better yet, there you will be watched by the whole neighborhood,” she would say.
5603.92 At first, they only talked nonsense, that sweet nonsense
5608.96 that is very similar to the boasting of nations in Europe: it tastes and feels like honey to the nationals, but makes
5616.2 foreigners laugh or frown. She, like Cain’s sister, is jealous, and for this reason she asks her lover:
5623.88 “Have you always thought of me? Haven’t you forgotten me on so many journeys?” So many great cities with so many beautiful women!
5631.336 He too, another brother of Cain, knows how to evade questions and is a bit of a liar, and that’s why:
5638.136 « Could I forget you? » he answers, looking spellbound into her black pupils: « Could I break a sacred oath? Do you
5646.176 remember that stormy night when you, seeing me
5651.816 weeping alone beside my mother’s corpse, came up to me, placed your hand on my shoulder, your hand that you hadn’t let me hold for a long time
5660.696 , and said to me: You have lost your mother, I never had her… and
5666.176 you wept with me? You loved her and she loved you like a daughter. Outside
5672.376 it was raining and lightning, but I thought I heard music, saw the pale face of the corpse smiling… Oh, if only my parents were alive and
5680.896 could see you! I then took your hand and my mother’s, swore to love you, to make you happy, whatever fate heaven might have in store for me, and
5690.696 since this oath has never weighed on me, I now renew it. Could
5696.136 I have forgotten you? Your memory has always accompanied me, it has saved me from the dangers of the journey, it has been my consolation in the solitude of my soul
5703.976 in foreign countries; your memory has neutralized the effect of the lotus of Europe, which erases from the memory of many the hopes and
5713.176 misfortunes of the Homeland. In dreams I saw you standing on the beach of Manila, gazing at the distant horizon, wrapped in the warm light of
5722.176 early dawn; I heard a languid and melancholy song, which awakened dormant feelings in me and evoked in the memory of my heart
5731.696 the first years of my childhood, our joys, our games,
5737.336 all the happy past that you encouraged while you were in the village. It seemed to me that you were the fairy, the spirit, the poetic incarnation of my
5746.248 country, beautiful, simple, kind, candid, daughter of the Philippines, of
5751.528 that beautiful country that unites the great virtues of Mother Spain with the beautiful qualities of a young people, just as in your being is united
5759.648 all that is beautiful and lovely, the heritage of both races [30]; and for this reason your love and the one I profess for my country merge into one… Could I
5768.008 forget you? Many times I thought I heard the sounds of your piano and the accents of your voice, and whenever in Germany, at nightfall,
5778.328 when I wandered through the forests, populated by the fantastic creations of its poets and the mysterious legends of its past generations,
5787.528 I evoked your name, I thought I saw you in the mist that rises from the bottom of the valley, I thought I heard your voice in the whispering of the leaves; And when
5797.408 the villagers, returning from work, would let their popular songs be heard from afar, it seemed to me that they harmonized with my
5806.008 inner voices, that they sang for you, and gave reality to my illusions and dreams. Sometimes I would lose myself on the mountain paths, and the
5815.048 night, which gradually descends there, would still find me wandering, seeking my way among the pines, beeches, and oaks. Then, if a few
5825.608 rays of moonlight slipped through the gaps in the branches, I seemed to see you in the heart of the forest, like a vague, amorous shadow oscillating
5833.528 between the light and the darkness of the thicket. And if by chance the nightingale let its varied trills be heard, I believed it was because it saw you and you
5843.208 inspired it. How I have thought of you! The fever of your love not only
5848.264 animated the mist in my sight, but also colored the ice! In Italy, the beautiful Italian sky, with its clarity and depth,
5856.304 spoke to me of your eyes; « Its smiling landscape spoke to me of your smile, as
5861.384 the Andalusian countryside, with its air saturated with aromas, populated with
5866.464 oriental memories, full of poetry and color, spoke to me of your
5871.864 love. On moonlit nights, on that sleepy moon, rowing in
5877.144 a boat on the Rhine, I wondered if I might not deceive my imagination and see you among the poplars on the shore, on the
5885.304 Lorelay rock, or amidst the waves, singing in the silence of the night, like the young fairy of consolation, to cheer the loneliness and
5894.064 sadness of those ruined castles! « I have not traveled like you; I know only your town, Manila
5901.104 and Antipolo, she answers smiling, for she believes everything he tells her, but ever since I said goodbye to you and entered the beguinage, I
5909.384 have always remembered you, and I have not forgotten you no matter how much my confessor ordered me to, imposing many penances on me. I remembered
5917.904 our games, our quarrels when we were children. You chose the
5923.464 most beautiful sigüeyes [31] to play siklot [32]; you searched
5928.624 the river for the roundest and finest pebbles of different colors so we could play sintak; you were very clumsy, you always lost,
5938.104 and as punishment I would hit you with the bantil [33] with the palm of my hand, but I tried not to hit you hard, because I felt sorry for you. In
5945.624 the game of chonka [34] you were very tricky, even more than I, and we used to end up in a fight. Do you remember that time when you
5954.184 got really angry? You made me suffer then, but later, when I remembered it at the beguinage, I smiled, I missed you so I could
5962.744 argue again… and make peace right away. We were still children:
5968.104 we went with your mother to bathe in that stream under the shade of the reeds. On the banks grew many flowers and plants whose
5977.024 strange names you told me in Latin and Spanish, for you were already studying at the Athenaeum then. I paid no attention to you; I amused myself by
5986.064 chasing the butterflies and dragonflies, whose pinprick- like bodies bear all the colors of the rainbow and all the glints
5994.544 of mother-of-pearl, swarming and chasing one another among the flowers.
6000.264 Sometimes with my hands I tried to surprise and catch the little fish as they glide swiftly among the moss and pebbles on the bank. Suddenly
6008.384 you disappeared, and when you returned you were wearing a crown of orange leaves and flowers that you placed on my head, calling me Chloe;
6017.544 For yourself, you made another one of vines. But your mother took my crown, crushed it with a stone, and mixed it with the gogo [35] with which she was going
6028.184 to wash our heads. Tears sprang to your eyes, and you said that she understood nothing of mythology. “Fool!” your mother replied, “you will see
6038.424 how sweet your hair will smell afterward.” I laughed, you were offended, you would not speak to me, and for the rest of the day you were so serious that
6046.344 I felt like crying in turn. On the way back to the village, and the sun was scorching hot, I picked some sage leaves that grew by the side of the road, and
6054.824 gave them to you to put inside your hat and not get a headache . You smiled, then I took your hand, and we made peace.
6064.464 Ibarra smiled with happiness, opened his wallet, and took out a piece of paper, inside
6069.824 which were wrapped some blackish, dry, and aromatic leaves. « Your sage leaves! » he replied to her look; « this is all
6079.304 you’ve given me. » She in turn quickly took a small white satin bag from her bosom.
6085.896 « Psh! » she said, slapping him on the hand; « it is not allowed to be touched; it’s a farewell letter.
6093.016  » « Is this the one I wrote you before leaving?  » « Have you written me another one, my lord?  » « And what was I saying to you then?
6099.456  » « A lot of lies, the excuses of a bad payer! » she replied smiling, giving him to understand how pleasant those lies were. « Stay!
6108.576 I’ll read it to you, but I’ll suppress your flattery so as not to torment you. » And raising the paper to the level of her eyes so that the young man could not
6117.656 see her face, she began: « My… I will not read what follows to you, for it is a lie, » and she scanned a few
6123.656 lines with her eyes. « My father wants me to leave despite my pleas. » « You are a man, » he told me, « you must think of the future and
6133.096 your duties. You must learn the science of life, what your country cannot give you, so that you may be useful to it one day. If you remain at my side, in my
6141.696 shadow, in this atmosphere of worry, you will not learn to look into
6146.736 the distance; and the day I am gone you will find yourself like the plant our poet Balthazar speaks of: Grown in water, its
6155.816 leaves wither as soon as it is not watered; a moment of heat dries it out.
6161.896 You see? You are almost a young man now, and yet you still weep! » This reproach hurt me, and I confessed that I loved you. My father fell silent, reflected, and placing his
6171.696 hand on my shoulder, he said in a trembling voice: « Do you think that you alone know how to love, that your father neither loves you nor regrets parting from you? We recently
6179.536 lost your mother; I am now approaching old age, that age when one seeks the support and consolation of youth, and yet
6188.536 I accept my solitude, and I do not know if I will ever see you again. But I must think of other, greater things…
6193.824 The future opens for you, it closes for me; your loves are born, mine are dying; The fire boils in
6201.904 your blood, the cold creeps into mine, and yet you weep and do not know how to sacrifice the now for a tomorrow useful to you and your country!
6211.744 My father’s eyes filled with tears; I fell to my knees at his feet, embraced him, begged his forgiveness, and told him I was ready to leave…
6221.024 Ibarra’s agitation suspended his reading: the young man was pale and paced from one end of the roof to the other.
6228.584 « What’s the matter? What’s wrong with you? » she asked him. « You’ve made me forget that I have my duties, that I must leave
6234.464 right now for the village! Tomorrow is the Feast of the Dead. » María Clara fell silent, fixed her large,
6242.144 dreamy eyes on him for a few moments, and picking some flowers, said, moved:
6247.824 « Go, I won’t keep you any longer; in a few days we will see each other again! Place this flower on your parents’ grave! »
6256.304 A few minutes later, the young man descended the stairs accompanied by Captain Tiago and Aunt Isabel, while Maria Clara locked herself
6265.984 in the oratory. « Please tell Andeng to get the house ready, Maria and Isabel are about to arrive! Have a good trip! » Captain Tiago said,
6275.504 as Ibarra climbed into the carriage, which departed for the Plaza of San Gabriel. And then, by way of consolation, he said to Maria Clara, who was weeping beside
6285.664 an image of the Virgin: –Go on, light two two-real candles, one for San Roque,
6293.584 and another for San Rafael, patron saint of travelers! Light the lamp of Our Lady of Peace and Good Voyage, for there are many
6301.784 tulisanes [36]. It is better to spend four reales on wax and six cuartos on oil than to have to pay a large ransom later!
6309.784 Chapter 8. MEMORIES. Ibarra’s carriage was traveling through part of the liveliest suburb of Manila;
6316.448 what had made him sad the night before, made him smile in the light of day despite himself.
6322.808 The bustle of life everywhere, so many cars speeding back and forth, the wagons, the carriages, the Europeans, the Chinese,
6334.608 the natives, each in their own costume, the fruit vendors, the joggers, the naked porter, the food stalls,
6344.008 the inns, restaurants, shops, even the carts pulled by the impassive and indifferent carabao, which seems to amuse itself by dragging
6353.488 bundles while philosophizing—everything, the noise, the clatter, even the sun
6359.168 itself, a certain particular smell, the variegated colors, awakened in his memory a world of dormant recollections.
6367.608 Those streets were not yet paved. The sun would shine two days in a row, then turn to dust, covering everything, making people cough, and
6376.128 blinding passersby. It would rain one day, and a swamp would form,
6382.048 reflecting the headlights of cars at night, splashing pedestrians on the narrow sidewalks from five meters away. How many
6391.048 women had left their embroidered slippers in those waves of mud! Then prisoners would be seen trampling the streets in a row,
6398.408 their heads shaved, wearing short-sleeved shirts and knee-length trousers with blue numbers and letters; their legs were chained
6407.808 half-wrapped in dirty rags to soften the friction, or perhaps the cold, of the iron; joined together in pairs, tanned by the sun, exhausted
6418.208 by heat and exhaustion, harassed and whipped with a rod by another prisoner, who perhaps consoled himself with the ability to mistreat
6427.408 others in turn . They were tall men with somber faces, whom he had never seen soothed by the light of a smile. Their pupils, however
6438.008 , shone when the staff, whistling, fell upon their shoulders, or when a passerby threw them the butt of a cigar, half
6445.448 wet and crushed. The one nearest to him would catch it and hide it in his salakot [37]; the rest would stare
6454.768 at the other passersby with a strange expression. He thought he could still hear the noise they made breaking up the stone to fill the potholes, and the joyful sound
6462.568 of the heavy shackles on their swollen ankles. Ibarra still shuddered to recall a scene that had struck his imagination as
6470.248 a child: it was an afternoon siesta, and the sun was casting down its hottest
6475.328 rays. In the shade of a wooden cart lay one of those men, lifeless, his eyes half-open. Two others, silent,
6485.608 were arranging a cane stretcher, without anger, without pain, without impatience,
6491.168 which was typical of the character attributed to the natives. « Today you, tomorrow we, » they would say among themselves. People moved by, without caring
6500.128 , quickly; women passed by, looked at him, and continued on their way; the spectacle was common; it had hardened hearts;
6508.808 the carriages sped by, reflecting on their varnished bodies the rays of that brilliant sun in a cloudless sky; only he, an eleven-
6516.768 year-old boy, just arrived from the village, was moved by it; only he had a nightmare the following night.
6523.048 The good and honorable Boat Bridge was gone, that good Filipino bridge, which did its best to serve despite its natural
6532.608 imperfections, which rose and fell according to the whim of the Pasig River and which the latter had mistreated and destroyed more than once.
6541.488 The almond trees in the Plaza of San Gabriel had not grown; they remained stunted. The Escolta [38] seemed less beautiful to him, although a large
6552.056 building with caryatids occupied the site of the old dressing rooms. The new Puente de España caught his attention; the houses on the
6560.736 right bank of the river among the reed beds and trees, where the Escolta ends and Romero Island begins, reminded him of the cool
6570.096 mornings when they would pass by on their way to the baths
6575.376 at Ulî Ujî on a bicycle [39]. He would find many carriages pulled by magnificent teams of dwarf horses: inside the carriages were employees, still half asleep,
6585.616 perhaps heading to their offices, soldiers, Chinese people in a fatuous
6592.176 and ridiculous posture, grave friars, canons, etc. In an elegant victoria he thought he recognized Father Dámaso, serious and with furrowed eyebrows,
6601.656 but he had already passed and now Captain Tinong, with his wife and two daughters, was greeting him happily from his carriage.
6611.416 As he descended the bridge, the horses began to trot, heading towards the Paseo de la Sabana. To the left, the Arroceros Tobacco Factory
6619.736 could be heard the sound of the cigar makers beating their leaves. Ibarra couldn’t help but smile, remembering that
6626.976 strong smell that filled the Bargas Bridge at five in the afternoon and made him dizzy as a child. The lively conversations and jokes
6635.056 automatically took his mind back to the Lavapiés neighborhood in Madrid , with its cigarette riots, so fatal for the unfortunate
6643.776 chili peppers, etc. The botanical garden drove away his cheerful memories: the demon of
6649.936 comparisons made him think of the botanical gardens of Europe, in countries where it takes a lot of willpower and a lot of gold for
6658.696 a leaf to sprout and a flower to open its calyx; he remembered those of the colonies,
6663.976 rich and well-tended, and all open to the public. Ibarra looked away, to his right, and there he saw the old Manila,
6672.976 still surrounded by its walls and moats, like an anemic young woman wrapped in a dress from her grandmother’s good days.
6679.816 The sight of the sea that stretches on into the distance!….. « On the other shore is Europe! » thought the young man. Europe with its
6686.256 beautiful nations, constantly agitated, seeking happiness, dreaming every morning and becoming disillusioned when the sun sets… happy
6695.816 in the midst of its catastrophes! Yes, on the other shore of the infinite sea are the spiritual nations, although they do not condemn
6703.456 matter, more spiritual even than those who pride themselves on worshipping the spirit!…
6709.056 But these thoughts fled from his imagination at the sight of the small hill in the countryside of Bagumbayan [40]. The isolated mound
6717.576 beside the Paseo de la Luneta now caught his attention and made him meditative.
6723.096 He thought of the man who had opened the eyes of his intelligence, made him understand what was good and just. The ideas he had instilled in him
6731.736 were few, yes, but they were not vain repetitions: they were convictions that did not pale in the light of the greatest centers of Progress. That
6739.976 man was an elderly priest, and the words he had spoken when he had bid him farewell still echoed in his ears. « Do not forget that if
6747.536 knowledge is the heritage of humanity, only those with heart inherit it, » he had reminded him. « I have tried to transmit to you what
6754.736 I have received from my teachers; I have tried to increase that wealth as much as I could, and I will transmit it to the next generation. You will do the
6763.696 same with the one who succeeds you, and you can triple it, for you are going to very rich countries. » And he added, smiling: « They come looking for gold; go
6773.376 you also to their country to look for other gold that we need. Remember, however, that not all that glitters is gold.
6780.432  » That man had died there. To these reminders, he replied in a low voice:
6787.272 « No, despite everything, the homeland comes first, the Philippines comes first, daughter of Spain, the Spanish homeland comes first! No, that which is fatal does not
6796.632 tarnish the homeland, no! » The hermitage, a phoenix of nipa, rising from the
6804.032 ashes in the form of white and blue houses with red-painted zinc roofs, doesn’t attract their attention. Neither Malate nor the
6812.992 cavalry barracks with its trees opposite, nor the inhabitants,
6818.112 nor the nipa houses with more or less pyramidal or prismatic roofs,
6823.272 hidden among banana trees and bongas, built like nests by each
6828.312 father of a family, attract their attention. The carriage continued rolling: it met a wagon drawn by
6833.912 one or two horses, whose abaka harnesses [41] betrayed their
6838.992 provincial origin. The wagon driver tried to see the traveler in the shiny carriage and passed without exchanging a word, without a single greeting. Sometimes a
6848.392 small cart, drawn by a carabao, walked slowly and indifferently, enlivened the wide and dusty roads, bathed in the brilliant sun of the
6857.592 tropics. The melancholy and monotonous song of the guide, mounted on the buffalo, is accompanied by the strident creaking of the dry wheel against the
6867.032 enormous axle of the heavy vehicle; sometimes it is the dull sound of the
6872.112 worn runners or soles of a paragos, that sled of the Philippines, which drags itself with difficulty over the dust or puddles of the road. In
6881.432 the fields, on the open threshing floors, cattle graze, mingling with
6886.672 white herons, peacefully perched on the back of the ox, which ruminates and savors the meadow grass with half-closed eyes. In
6894.592 the distance, herds of horses frolic, leap, and run, pursued by a lively colt with a long tail and abundant mane. The colt whinnies,
6904.952 and the earth leaps with the thuds of its powerful hooves. Let us leave the young man to travel meditating or dozing: the melancholic
6913.64 or lively poetry of the countryside does not attract his attention. That sun that makes the treetops shine and the peasants run, whose feet are burned by
6922.36 the scorching ground despite their calloused shoes, that sun that stops the village girl under the shade of an almond tree or a sugarcane field and
6929.24 makes her think of vague and inexplicable things, that sun holds no charms for our young man.
6935.52 Let’s return to Manila while the carriage rolls staggering, like a drunk, over the rough terrain, while crossing a cane bridge,
6944.4 climbing a steep hill or descending a steep slope. Chapter 9. THINGS OF THE COUNTRY.
6949.72 Ibarra had not been mistaken: Father Dámaso was indeed in that victoria , heading for the house he had just left.
6959.2 « Where are you going? » the friar asked María Clara and Aunt Isabel , who were preparing to climb into a carriage with silver ornaments. Father
6968.36 Dámaso, in his preoccupation, lightly patted the young woman’s cheeks.
6973.52 « To the Beaterio to get my things, » she replied. « Ahaaa! Aha! Let’s see who can do more, let’s see… » he murmured
6981.6 distractedly, leaving the two women no little surprised. With his head down and walking slowly, he reached the stairs and went up.
6989.44 « He must have a sermon, and he’ll be studying it by heart! » said Aunt Isabel. « Come up, Maria, we’ll be late.
6997.08  » Whether Padre Dámaso had a sermon or not, we cannot say; but
7002.68 very important things must have absorbed his attention, for he did not extend his hand to Capitan Tiago, who had to genuflect to kiss it.
7011.52 « Santiago! » was the first thing he said. « We have some very important things to talk about; let’s go to your office.
7018.4  » Capitan Tiago grew restless, lost the ability to speak, but obeyed and followed behind the colossal priest, who closed the door behind
7027.92 him.  » While they confer in secret, let’s find out what has become of
7032.992 Fray Sibyla. The learned Dominican is not in the rectory: very early, after
7038.872 saying Mass, he went to the convent of his order, located at the entrance
7043.912 to the Gate of Isabel II or Magallanes, depending on which family reigns in Madrid. »
7049.592 Ignoring the rich smell of chocolate, nor the sound of drawers and coins coming from the procurator’s office, and barely responding to the
7058.072 respectful and deferential greeting of the brother procurator, Brother Sibyla went upstairs, crossed some corridors, and knocked on a door with
7067.312 his knuckles. « Come in! » a voice sighed.
7072.432 « God restore your reverence’s health! » was the young Dominican’s greeting as he entered.
7077.512 Seated in a large armchair was an old priest, gaunt and somewhat
7083.272 yellowish, like those saints painted by Rivera. His eyes were sunken into hollowed sockets, crowned with bushy eyebrows, which, because they were
7092.232 almost always contracted, increased their intense brilliance. Father Sibyla looked at him, moved, his arms crossed beneath his eyes.
7100.872 of the venerable scapular of Saint Dominic. Then he bowed his head without saying a word and seemed to wait.
7107.552 « Ah! » sighed the sick man. « They advise me to have an operation. Hernando, an operation at my age! The country, this terrible country! It teaches
7116.792 me a lesson, Hernando!  » Friar Sibyla slowly raised his eyes and fixed them on the
7122.632 sick man’s face. « And what has Your Reverence decided? » he asked. « To die! Alas! Is there anything else left for me? I suffer too much, but… I have
7132.072 made many suffer… I have paid my debt! And you, how are you? What have you brought?
7137.512  » « I came to speak to you about the commission you have given me.  » « Ah! And what about it?
7143.304  » « Psh! » replied the young man with disgust, sitting down and
7148.984 disdainfully turning his face elsewhere; they have told us fables; Young
7154.464 Ibarra is a prudent boy; he doesn’t seem stupid, but I believe him to be a good boy. « Do you believe it? » « Hostilities began last night.
7162.184  » « Already? And how? » Brother Sibyla briefly recounted what had happened between Father Dámaso and
7167.744 Crisóstomo Ibarra. « Furthermore, » he added in conclusion, « the young man is marrying the daughter of
7173.664 Capitan Tiago, educated in the school of our sisters, and he is rich,
7178.704 and he won’t want to make enemies to lose his happiness and fortune.  » The sick man nodded his head in agreement.
7186.024 « Yes, I think as you do… With a woman like that and a similar father-in-law, we’ll have him body and soul. And if not, so much the better if he declared himself
7195.304 our enemy!  » Brother Sibyla looked at the old man in surprise. « For the good of our Holy Corporation, of course, » he added,
7204.064 breathing heavily. « I prefer attacks to the foolish praise
7209.744 and flattery of friends… It’s true that they are paid for. » « Does Your Reverence think so? »
7215.024 The old man looked at him sadly. « Keep that in mind! » he replied, breathing heavily. « Our
7221.704 power will last as long as there is belief in it. If we are attacked, the Government says: They are attacked because they see an obstacle to their freedom, so
7230.824 let us preserve it.  » « And if it listens to them? The Government sometimes…
7235.944  » « It won’t!  » « However, if, driven by greed, it should come to want for itself
7242.904 what we collect… if there were a daring and reckless person…  » « Then woe to him! »
7249.384 Both remained silent. « Besides, » continued the sick man, « we need to be attacked,
7255.584 to be awakened: this reveals our weaknesses and improves us.
7261.632 Exaggerated
praise deceives us, lulls us to sleep, but abroad
7266.672 it makes us look ridiculous, and the day we are made to look ridiculous, we will fall as we fell in Europe. » Money will no longer enter our churches,
7275.232 no one will buy scapulars or belts or anything, and when we cease to
7280.352 be rich, we will no longer be able to convince consciences —Psh! We will always have our estates, our farms…—
7288.672 They will all be lost, as we lost them in Europe! And the worst thing is that we are working for our own ruin. For example: this excessive desire to
7296.872 raise the canon on our lands every year, and at our whim, this desire that I have fought in vain in all the Chapters—this
7305.032 desire is ruining us! The indigenous person is forced to buy lands elsewhere that are as good as or better than ours. I fear that
7313.272 we are beginning to decline: Quos vult perdere Júpiter dementat prius. Therefore,
7319.512 let us not increase our weight; the people are already murmuring. You’ve thought well:
7324.792 let’s leave the others to settle their accounts there, let’s preserve the prestige we have left, and since we will soon appear before God,
7334.032 let’s wipe the flies off our faces… May the God of mercies have mercy on our weakness!
7340.112 « So your reverence believes that the canon or tribute? » « Let’s not talk about money anymore! » interrupted the
7347.952 sick man with some displeasure. « You were saying that the lieutenant had promised Father Dámaso…  » « Yes, Father! » answered Friar Sibyla, half smiling. But this morning
7355.752 I saw him and he told me that he was sorry for everything that had happened last night, that the sherry
7360.952 had gone to his head, and that he considered that Father Dámaso was in the same situation as himself. » « And the promise? » I asked him in
7369.192 « Joke. » « Father, » he replied, « I know how to keep my word when
7374.552 it doesn’t stain my honor. I am not, nor have I ever been, an informer; that’s why
7379.992 I only have two stars. » After talking about other insignificant things, Friar Sibyla took his
7386.6 leave. The lieutenant had not actually gone to Malacañan [42], but the Captain General learned what had happened.
7392.68 While talking with his aides about the allusions the Manila newspapers were making to him under the name of comets and celestial apparitions,
7401.12 one of them told him about Father Dámaso in a somewhat more intentional way, although in a more correct manner.
7409.48 « From whom did you hear it? » His Excellency asked, smiling. « From Laruja, who was telling it this morning in the editorial office. »
7416.48 The Captain General smiled again and added: « Woman and friar do no wrong! I intend to live in peace for the time
7425.6 I have left in this country and I don’t want any more trouble with men who wear skirts. What’s more, I have also learned that the provincial has flouted
7433.8 my orders. I requested the transfer of that friar as punishment; and well,
7440.64 they transferred him, taking him to another, much better town: frailadas, as we say in Spain!
7446.0 But when His Excellency found himself alone, he stopped laughing. « Ah! If these people weren’t so stupid, I would put
7454.68 your Reverences in their place! » he sighed. « But every town deserves its
7460.32 fate, and let’s do what everyone else does. » Captain Tiago, meanwhile, finished conferring with Father Dámaso,
7467.12 or rather, he with that one. « So you’ve been warned! » said the Franciscan as he took his leave. « All this could have been avoided if you had
7475.64 consulted me earlier, if you hadn’t lied when I asked you. Try not to commit any more foolish acts and trust his godfather! »
7482.44 Captain Tiago paced the hall two or three times, thoughtful, and suddenly sighing, as if a good
7490.84 thought had occurred to him, he ran to the oratory and quickly extinguished the candles and the lamp he had lit to protect Ibarra.
7498.56 « There is still time, and the road is very long! » he murmured. Chapter 10.
7503.656 THE TOWN. Almost on the shore of the lake lies the town of San Diego [43] amidst
7509.896 fields and rice paddies. It exports sugar, rice, coffee, and fruit or
7515.256 sells them at bargain prices to the Chinese, who exploit the ingenuity or vices of
7520.616 the farmers. When on a clear day the boys climb to the top of the church tower, which is adorned with moss and climbing plants,
7529.456 they burst into joyful exclamations, provoked by the beauty of the panorama before them. Amidst that
7537.176 mass of roofs made of nipa, tile, zinc and cabonegro [44], separated by
7543.696 orchards and gardens, each one knows how to find his little house, his little nest. Everything serves as a sign: a tree, the tamarind with its light
7552.616 foliage, the coconut palm laden with nuts like the generative Astarte or the
7557.816 Ephesian Diana with her numerous breasts, a flexible reed, a bonga,
7563.096 a cross. There is the river, a monstrous crystal serpent, asleep on the green carpet; from time to time pieces of
7572.216 rock curl its current, scattered on the sandy bed; there the channel narrows between
7578.296 two high banks to which trees with bare roots cling in contortions
7583.336 ; here a gentle slope forms and the river widens
7589.456 and becomes calm. There, further away, a small house, built on the edge,
7595.096 defies the height, the winds, and the abyss, and from its thin harigues
7600.296 or props, it seems a monstrous stilt spying on the reptile, ready to attack it. Trunks of palm trees or trees still with bark, shifting and
7609.096 wobbly, join both banks, and if they are poor bridges, they are magnificent gymnastic apparatus for balancing, which is not to
7619.456 be disdained: the children are amused from the river where they bathe, with the anguish of the woman passing by with a basket on her head,
7629.176 or of the old man who trembles and drops his staff into the water. But what always draws attention is what we might call a peninsula of
7637.352 forest in that sea of ​​cultivated land. There are centuries-old trees, with hollow trunks, that die only when lightning strikes the surface.
7644.792 proud crown and sets it ablaze: they say that then the fire is confined
7649.872 and dies in the same place; there are enormous rocks that time and nature dress with velvets of moss: the dust
7658.552 settles layer upon layer in their hollows, the rain fixes them and the birds sow seeds. Tropical vegetation develops freely:
7667.792 bushes, weeds, curtains of vines intertwined with each other,
7673.792 move from one tree to another, hang from the branches, cling to the roots, to the ground, and as if Flora were not yet happy, she plants
7683.072 upon plants; moss and fungi live on the cracked bark,
7688.152 and aerial plants, gracious guests, mistake their embraces for the leaves of the hospitable tree.
7694.592 That forest was respected: strange legends existed about it, but the most credible and therefore least believed and known seems
7704.512 to be the following. When the town was still a miserable heap of huts, and
7709.832 the grass in the so-called streets still grew abundantly, in those days when deer and wild boars came by at night,
7719.032 an old Spaniard with deep eyes and who spoke Tagalog quite well arrived one day. After visiting and exploring the land in various
7727.912 directions, he asked for the owners of the forest where the hot springs ran. Some people presented themselves who claimed to be the owners, and the old man
7736.912 acquired them in exchange for clothes, jewelry, and some money. Then, somehow , he disappeared.
7743.672 The people already believed him to be enchanted, when a fetid odor emanating from the neighboring forest attracted the attention
7751.312 of some shepherds; they tracked him down and found the old man in a state of putrefaction, hanging from the branch of a balitî [45] tree. In life, he had already been
7760.712 frightening because of his deep, hollow voice, those sunken eyes, and that soundless laugh; but now, having committed suicide, he disturbed the
7770.992 women’s sleep. Some threw the jewels into the river and burned the clothes, and from the moment the body was buried at the foot of the balitî,
7779.872 no one dared to venture there. A shepherd, looking for his animals, reported seeing lights; it was the young men,
7789.032 and they heard wailing. An unhappy lover, who, to attract the attention of the disdainful woman, promised to spend the night under the tree
7797.832 by wrapping a long reed around its trunk, died of a rapid fever, which took him the day after the night of his bet.
7804.672 Many tales and legends still circulated about this place. But months passed, and a young man, apparently a Spanish mestizo, who claimed
7813.032 to be the son of the deceased, came and settled in that corner, dedicating himself to farming, especially to planting indigo. Don Saturnino
7821.312 was a taciturn young man with a violent, sometimes cruel, disposition, but he was very active and hardworking: he surrounded his father’s grave with a wall,
7831.112 which he visited only occasionally. As he grew older, he married a young woman from Manila, with whom he had Don Rafael, Crisóstomo’s father.
7840.472 From a very young age, Don Rafael earned the affection of the peasants. Agriculture, brought and fostered by his father, developed
7851.032 rapidly; new inhabitants influxed, many Chinese people, and the hamlet soon became a village and had an indigenous priest. Later, the
7860.792 village became a town, the priest died, and Friar Dámaso arrived, but the tomb and the surrounding territory were respected. The boys
7868.736 sometimes dared, armed with sticks and stones, to wander around the surrounding area to pick guavas, papayas, lomboi [46], etc.,
7879.936 and it happened that at the height of their activity, or while they were silently watching the rope swing from the branch, one or
7888.576 two stones would fall, coming from who knows where; then, at the cry of  » Old man! Old man! » They threw fruit and sticks, jumped from the trees,
7898.136 ran among rocks and bushes and did not stop until they left the forest, some pale, panting, others tearful, and very few laughing.
7906.976 Chapter 11. THE SOVEREIGNS. Divide and reign. (New Machiavelli.)
7913.376 Who were the caciques of the town? Don Rafael was not one when he lived, although he was the richest, he had
7919.496 more land, and almost everyone owed him favors. Since he was modest and tried to downplay everything he did, he never formed
7928.536 a strong following in the town, and we’ve seen how they rose up against him when they saw him waver. « Could it be Captain Tiago? » « When he arrived, he was truly received by
7938.896 his debtors with an orchestra; they gave him a banquet and showered him with gifts:
7944.776 the best fruits covered his table; if a deer or wild boar was shot,
7950.536 he would get a quarter; if he found a debtor’s horse beautiful, half an hour later he would see it in his stable. All this is true, but
7959.656 they laughed at him and secretly called him Sacristan Tiago. Perhaps the little governor?
7965.512 This was an unhappy man who didn’t command, he obeyed; he didn’t scold anyone, he was
7970.752 quarrelsome; he didn’t rule, he was ruled over; On the other hand, he had to answer to the
7976.032 Mayor for everything he had been ordered, commanded, and arranged as if it had all sprung from his own skull. But, to his credit, he
7984.672 has neither stolen nor usurped this dignity: it has cost him five thousand pesos and many humiliations, and for what it earns him, it seems very cheap.
7993.072 Come on! Then it must be God! Ah! The good God did not trouble the consciences or the sleep of his
7999.792 inhabitants: at least He did not make them tremble, and if someone had happened to speak of Him in a sermon, they would surely have
8008.432 sighed: If only there were one God!… They paid
8013.552 little attention to the good Lord: the saints, men and women, gave them plenty to do. For those people, God had become like those poor kings who
8023.352 surround themselves with favorites: the people only pay court to the latter. San Diego was a kind of Rome, but not Rome when Romulus’s disciple
8031.872 drew its walls with a plow, nor when later, bathing
8036.992 in his own and other people’s blood, he dictated laws to the world, no: it was like contemporary Rome
8042.552 with the difference that instead of marble monuments and coliseums, it had monuments of saualî [47] and nipa cockpits. The
8051.552 priest was the Pope in the Vatican; the second lieutenant of the Civil Guard was the King of Italy at the Quirinal, that is, everything in proportion to the
8060.232 saualî and the nipa cockpit. And here as there there were continual disagreements, since each, wanting to be the master, found
8069.192 the other superfluous. Let us explain and describe the qualities of both. Fray Bernardo Salví was that young and silent Franciscan of whom
8078.192 we have spoken before. By his customs and manners he was very distinguished from his brothers and even more from his predecessor, the violent
8087.032 Padre Dámaso. He was thin, sickly, almost constantly thoughtful,
8092.08 strict in the fulfillment of his religious duties and careful of his good name. A month after his arrival, almost all of them
8100.2 became brothers of the VOT [48], much to the sadness of their rival,
8106.96 the Confraternity of the Most Holy Rosary. The soul leaped for joy at seeing four or five scapulars around each neck and a
8115.96 knotted cord around each waist, and those processions of corpses or ghosts in gingham habits. The head sacristan made a small fortune selling
8124.48 or giving alms, as it should be said, all the objects
8129.52 necessary to save the soul and fight the devil. It is well known that
8134.56 this spirit, which previously dared to contradict God Himself face
8140.08 to face, doubting His words, as it is said in the holy book of Job, who carried Our Lord Jesus Christ through the air, as he did later in the
8149.16 Middle Ages with the witches, and continues, they say, to do so even with the Asuang [49] of the Philippines, seems to have become so shameful today
8158.64 that he cannot bear to look at a cloth on which two arms are painted and he fears the knots of a cord; but this proves nothing else
8167.72 but that progress is being made on this side as well, and the devil is retrograde or at least conservative like everyone who lives in the darkness, unless he
8176.0 wants us to attribute to him the weaknesses of a fifteen-year-old maiden. As we were saying, Father Salví was very assiduous in fulfilling his duties;
8184.84 according to the ensign, too assiduous. While he was preaching—he was very fond of preaching—the doors of the church were closed; in this he
8194.08 was like Nero, who did not let anyone out while he was singing in the theater; but the former did it for the good and the latter for the evil of
8202.12 souls. He usually punished any of his subordinates’ faults with fines,
8207.68 for he hit very rarely, in which he also differed greatly from Father
Dámaso, who settled everything with blows and blows with his stick,
8217.153 which he gave laughingly and with the greatest good will. For this reason, no one could dislike him; he was convinced that
8225.073 an indigenous person is treated only with blows; so had a friar who knew how to write books, and
8231.312 he believed it, for he never discussed what was printed: many people could complain about this modesty.
8237.832 Brother Salví hit very rarely, but as an old philosopher of the town said, what he lacked in quantity, he abounded in quality, but
8246.832 for this reason, no one could dislike him. Fasting and abstinence, impoverishing his blood, made his nerves frayed, and, as people said,
8256.872 made the wind go to his head. From this it resulted that the sacristans’ backs couldn’t clearly distinguish when a priest fasted
8267.712 or ate too much. The only enemy of this spiritual power with temporal tendencies
8274.113 was, as we have already said, the lieutenant. The only one, for the women tell us that the devil is on the run from him, because one day, having dared
8282.792 to tempt him, he was caught, tied to the foot of the cot, whipped with the cord,
8288.032 and was only released after nine days. Consequently, whoever after this still makes an enemy
8294.352 of a man as such, comes to have a worse reputation than the poor and unwary devils themselves, and the lieutenant deserved his fate. His mistress,
8303.392 an old Filipina woman with a lot of rouge and paint, was called Doña Consolación; her husband and others called her by another name.
8311.536 The ensign avenged his marital misfortunes on himself
8316.576 by getting drunk, ordering his soldiers to do exercises
8322.056 in the sun, while staying in the shade himself, or, more often, by shaking his
8327.697 wife, who, if not a Lamb of God to take away anyone’s sins , on the other hand served to save her from many pains in Purgatory,
8336.936 if she ever went there, which the devout women doubt. He and she, as if joking, would beat each other up and give free entertainments
8344.976 to the neighbors: vocal and instrumental concerts, four-handed, piano,
8350.737 forte, pedal, and all. Every time these scandals reached Father Salví’s ears, he would
8357.416 smile and cross himself, then pray an Our Father; they called him
8362.976 a hypocrite, a Carlist, a miser; Father Salví would smile too and
8368.496 pray some more. The ensign always told the few Spaniards who visited him the following anecdote:
8375.976 « Are you going to the convent to visit Father Moscamuerta? Watch out! If he offers you chocolate, which I doubt!… but anyway, if he does,
8383.976 pay attention. Does he call the servant and say: ‘So-and-so, make a cup of chocolate,’ then stay, no fear, but if he says: ‘So-and-so,
8394.456 make a cup of chocolate,’ then grab your hat and run away.  » « What? » asked the other, frightened. « Does he give a cup of chocolate? » « Wow!
8402.976  » « You’re not that serious!  » « Then?  » « Chocolate, ‘eh?’ means thick, and chocolate, ‘ah?’ means watery. »
8409.896 But we believe this is slander on the ensign’s part, since the same anecdote is also attributed to many priests. Unless it’s something from
8417.416 the Corporation… To harm him, the soldier, inspired by his mistress, prohibited anyone from walking around after nine at night. Doña Consolación
8425.856 claimed to have seen the priest, disguised in a pineapple shirt and a salakot de nitô [50], walking around late at night. Friar
8434.272 Salví took saintly revenge: upon seeing the ensign enter the church, he would
8439.712 surreptitiously order the sacristan to close all the doors, and then he would climb onto the pulpit and begin to preach until the saints closed
8447.632 their eyes, and the wooden dove above his head, the image of the divine Spirit, would murmur « please! » to him . The ensign, like all
8457.112 unrepentant people, did not correct himself for that: he would go out swearing and as soon
8462.552 as he could catch a sacristan or a servant of the priest, he would arrest him,
8468.632 beat him, make him scrub the floor of the barracks and that of his own house, who then became decent. The sacristan, when he went to pay the fine
8477.472 the priest had imposed for his absence, explained his reasons. Friar Salví listened silently, put away the money, and for the time being, let his
8487.072 goats and sheep go graze in the ensign’s garden, while he looked for a new topic for another, much longer and
8494.152 more edifying sermon. But these things were no obstacle at all, so that,
8499.632 if they saw each other later, they would shake hands and speak courteously. When her husband was dozing off his wine or snoring during his siesta and Doña Consolación
8508.592 couldn’t argue with him, she would settle down at the window with her cigar
8514.072 in her mouth and her blue flannel shirt. She, who can’t stand young people, glares at the girls from there and
8522.272 insults them. They fear her and file past in confusion, unable to raise their eyes,
8527.752 quickening their pace and holding their breath. Doña Consolación had a great virtue: she seemed never to have looked in a mirror.
8536.512 These are the sovereigns of the town of San Diego. Chapter 12. ALL SAINTS.
8541.752 The only thing that undisputedly distinguishes man from animals is the worship they pay to those who have ceased to be. And strangely enough! This
8549.632 custom appears all the more deeply rooted the less civilized the people.
8555.208 Historians write that the ancient inhabitants of the Philippines venerated and deified their ancestors; now the opposite is true:
8565.608 the dead must commend themselves to the living. It is also said that those of New Guinea keep the bones of their dead in boxes
8573.128 and converse with them; most of the peoples of Asia, Africa, and America offer them the most exquisite dishes
8580.568 from their kitchens or those that were their favorite foods in life, and hold banquets that they assume they are present at. The Egyptians built
8589.048 palaces for them, the Muslims built chapels, etc., but the people who are masters
8594.888 in this matter and who have best understood the human heart are those of Dahomey. These Black people know that man is vengeful; so,
8604.648 they say, to please the dead, there is nothing better than to sacrifice
8609.688 all his enemies on the grave. And since man is curious and won’t know
8615.928 how to amuse himself in the afterlife, they send him a messenger every year in the skin of a decapitated slave.
8623.128 We are different from everyone else. Despite the inscriptions on the tombs, almost no one believes that the dead rest, much less in
8631.008 peace. The most optimistic imagine their great-grandparents still toasting in Purgatory, and, if they don’t emerge damned, they will be able to accompany them for
8640.848 many years to come. And whoever wants to contradict us, let them visit the churches and cemeteries of the country on this day, observe and see. But since
8649.168 we are in the town of San Diego, let’s visit yours. To the west, in the middle of the rice fields, is not the city, but
8658.408 the neighborhood of the dead: a narrow path leads to it, dusty on hot days and navigable on rainy days.
8665.608 A wooden gate and a fence, half stone and half reed and stakes, seem to separate
8673.808 the village from the men, but not from the priest’s goats and a few neighborhood pigs, which come and go to explore
8681.888 the graves or brighten that solitude with their presence. In the middle of that vast corral stands a large wooden cross
8689.248 on a stone pedestal. The storm has bent its tin INRI sign , and the rain has erased the letters. At the foot of the cross, as on
8697.928 the real Golgotha, lie in a confused heap of skulls and bones, which
8703.688 the indifferent gravedigger throws from the graves he empties. There they probably await, not the resurrection of the dead, but
8712.768 the arrival of the animals, who with their liquids will warm them and wash those cold nakednesses. Recent
8721.728 excavations can be seen in the surrounding area: here the ground is sunken, there it forms a small
8727.288 hill. The tarambulo and the pandakakî [51] grow in all their luxuriance:
8733.008 the former to prick the legs with its thorny berries, and the latter to add its scent to that of the cemetery, if it were not fragrant
8740.728 enough. However, a few small flowers dot the ground, flowers that,
8746.688 Like those skulls, they are now known only to their Creator:
8751.848 the smile of their petals is pale, and their perfume is the perfume of the tombs. Grass and creepers cover the corners,
8760.248 climb up the walls and niches, dressing and beautifying the naked ugliness; sometimes they penetrate through the cracks that made tremors and
8767.968 earthquakes, hiding from view the venerable emptiness of the tomb. By the time we enter, the men have driven away the animals;
8776.632 only the occasional pig, an animal difficult to convince, peeks out with
8782.152 bright little eyes, poking its head through a large gap in the fence, raising its snout in the air and seeming to say to a woman praying:
8790.872 « Don’t eat it all; leave me some, okay? » Two men are digging a pit near the wall that is threatening to collapse:
8798.152 one, the gravedigger, does so indifferently: he throws in vertebrae and bones, like a gardener throws in stones and dry branches; The other
8808.392 is worried, sweating, smoking, and spitting constantly. « Hey! » says the one smoking, in Tagalog. « Wouldn’t it be better if we dug
8815.912 somewhere else? This is very recent.  » « Some graves are as recent as others.  » « I can’t take it anymore! That bone you broke is still bleeding… um! And
8825.352 that hair?  » « You’re so delicate! » reproaches the other. « As if
8831.192 you were a court clerk! If you had dug up, like I did, a twenty-day-old corpse, at night, in the dark,
8840.312 when it was raining… » My lantern went out. The other shuddered. « The coffin came unnailed, the dead man half came out, it smelled… and you having
8849.072 to carry it… and it was raining, and we were both wet, and…
8854.472  » « Brrr! And why did you dig it up? » The gravedigger looked at him strangely. « Why? » Do I know? They ordered me to!
8861.792 « Who ordered you to? » The gravedigger half stepped back and examined his
8867.872 companion from head to toe. « Well! You look like a Spaniard; a Spaniard asked me the same questions later
8873.952 , but in secret. Well, I’m going to answer you like the other one: the old priest ordered me to.
8879.752  » « Ah! And what did you do after the corpse? » continued the delicate one. « Devil! If I didn’t know you and knew you were a man, I’d say
8888.672 you were truly a civil Spaniard: you ask questions like the other one. Well… the
old priest ordered me to bury it in the
8895.944 Chinese cemetery, but since the coffin was heavy and the Chinese cemetery
8902.464 is far away…  » « No, no! I’m not digging any more! » interrupted the other, filled with horror,
8908.504 dropping the spade and jumping out of the pit; « I’ve split a skull and I’m afraid
8913.624 it won’t let me sleep tonight. » The gravedigger burst into laughter as he watched the fastidious man
8919.984 cross himself as he walked away. The cemetery was filling up with men and women dressed in mourning. Some spent some time searching for the grave, arguing among
8929.024 themselves, and, as if they were at odds, separated and each
8934.304 knelt where he thought best; others, those who had niches for their relatives, lit candles and began to pray devoutly.
8943.944 Sighs and sobs could also be heard, which they tried to exaggerate or suppress. Already a murmur of « orápreo, » « orápreiss, » and « requiemæternams » could be heard.
8953.984 A little old man, with bright eyes, entered with his head covered. Upon seeing him, many
8960.504 laughed, and some of the women frowned. The old man seemed to take no notice of such demonstrations, for he went to the pile
8968.024 of skulls, knelt down, and looked for something among the bones for some time. Then he carefully moved the skulls aside one
8976.784 after the other, and as if he couldn’t find what he was looking for, he wrinkled his eyebrows,
8982.344 shook his head from side to side, looked in every direction, and finally
8987.864 stood up and went to the gravedigger. « Listen! » he said to him. The gravedigger raised his head.
8993.784 « Do you know where there is a beautiful skull, white as coconut meat , with a full set of teeth, that I had there at the foot of the cross
9001.464 , under those leaves? » The gravedigger shrugged his shoulders.
9007.104 « Look! » added the old man, showing him a silver coin. « I have nothing more than this, but I’ll give it to you if you find it for me. »
9013.368 The glitter of the coin made him think. He looked towards the ossuary and said: « Isn’t it there? No? Well, then I don’t know.
9021.568  » « You know, when those who owe me pay me, I’ll give you more, » continued the old man. « It was my wife’s skull; so if you find it for me…
9030.288  » « Isn’t it there? Well, I don’t know! But if you want, I can give you another one.  » « You’re like the grave you’re digging! » the old man apostrophized
9037.848 nervously. « You don’t know the value of what you’re losing. Who’s the grave for?  » « Do I know? For a dead man! » replied the other, sulkily.
9045.528 « Like the grave, like the grave! » repeated the old man, laughing dryly. « You don’t know what you’re throwing in, or what you’re swallowing. Dig, dig! »
9053.488 And he turned and headed for the door. The gravedigger, meanwhile, had finished his task. Two mounds
9061.088 of fresh, reddish earth rose at the edges of the grave. He took his salakot buyo out of his bowl and began to chew it, looking stupidly at
9071.248 everything that was going on around him. Chapter 13. OMEN OF A STORM.
9076.448 At the moment the old man was leaving, a carriage stopped at the entrance to the path that seemed to have made a long journey; it was covered with
9084.808 dust and the horses were sweating. Ibarra got out, followed by an old servant; he dismissed the carriage with a
9091.088 gesture and headed for the cemetery, silent and grave. « My illness and my occupations have prevented me from returning! »
9098.648 the old man said timidly. « Captain Tiago said he would take care of having a niche erected; but I planted flowers and a cross I carved myself.  »
9107.528 Ibarra did not reply. « There behind that large cross, sir! » continued the servant,
9113.168 pointing to a corner when they had passed through the door. Ibarra was so preoccupied that he didn’t notice the expressions of surprise on the faces of
9120.208 some people who recognized him. They stopped praying and followed him with curious eyes.
9126.672 The young man walked carefully, avoiding the graves, easily identifiable by a dip in the ground. He once
9134.872 trod them; today he respected them: his father lay in the same condition. He stopped when he reached the other side of the cross and looked
9143.032 around. His companion was confused and embarrassed; he looked for footprints in the ground, but nowhere was there a cross to be seen.
9150.552 « Is it here? » he murmured under his breath. « No, it’s over there, but the earth has been disturbed! »
9156.912 Ibarra looked at him anxiously. « Yes! » he continued. « I remember there was a stone beside it; the grave was
9162.752 a little short; the gravedigger was ill, and a tenant farmer had to dig it
9168.112 , but we’ll ask him what has become of the cross. » They approached the gravedigger, who was watching them curiously.
9177.112 He greeted them by removing his salakot. « Can you tell us which grave had a cross over there? » asked
9183.112 the servant. The person being addressed looked toward the spot and thought. « A large cross?  » « Yes, large, » affirmed the old man joyfully, looking meaningfully
9192.072 at Ibarra, whose face brightened. « A cross with intricate work, tied with vines? » asked
9198.632 the gravedigger again. « That’s it, that’s it, like this, like this! » And the servant drew a design in the ground
9204.712 in the shape of a Byzantine cross. « And were there flowers planted in the grave?  » « Oleanders, sampagas, and pansies! That’s right! » added the servant joyfully
9213.392 , offering him a cigar. « Tell us which grave it is and where the cross is. »
9219.152 The gravedigger scratched his ear and answered, yawning: « Well, the cross… I burned it!
9225.112  » « Burned it? And why did you burn it?  » « Because the big priest ordered it.  » « Who is the big priest? » Ibarra asked.
9232.032 « Who? The one who hits, Father Garrote. » Ibarra rubbed his hand across his forehead.
9237.352 « But at least, can you tell us where the grave is? You must remember it.
9242.592  » The gravedigger smiled. « The dead man is no longer there! » he replied calmly.
9248.152 « What are you saying?  » « Yes! » the man added jokingly; « I buried
9253.712 a woman in her place a week ago.  » « Are you crazy? » the servant asked him; « if it hasn’t been a year yet. »
9258.992 that we have buried him. « That’s it! I dug him up many months ago. The
9265.192 great priest sent him to me to take him to the Chinese people cemetery. But since it was heavy and it was raining that night…
9272.632  » The man could not go on; he recoiled in terror at the sight of Crisóstomo, who rushed toward him, grabbing him by the arm and
9281.112 shaking him. « And you did it? » the young man asked in an indescribable tone. « Don’t be angry, sir, » he answered, turning pale and trembling. « I didn’t
9290.992 bury him among the Chinese people. Better to drown than to be among the Chinese people, I said to myself, and I threw the dead man into the water!
9298.512  » Ibarra put both fists on his shoulders and looked at him for a long time with an expression that cannot be defined.
9305.232 « You are nothing but a wretch! » he said, and rushed out, trampling on bones, graves, crosses, like a madman.
9312.112 The gravedigger felt his arm and muttered: « What a pain the dead are! Father Grande beat me with
9318.632 a club for letting him be buried when I was sick; now this one’s
9324.432 about to break my arm for digging him up. What Spaniards are! I’m still going to lose my job. »
9332.432 Ibarra walked quickly, his gaze far into the distance; the old servant followed him weeping. The sun was already setting; thick nimbus clouds clouded the sky
9341.832 toward the east; a dry wind stirred the treetops and made the sugarcane fields groan.
9348.312 Ibarra was bareheaded; not a tear fell from his eyes, not a sigh escaped
9354.576 his chest . He walked as if fleeing from someone, perhaps from his father’s shadow, perhaps from the approaching storm. He crossed
9362.496 the town, heading for the outskirts, toward that old house he hadn’t set foot in for many years. Surrounded by a wall
9370.416 where several cacti grew, it seemed to beckon him: the windows opened; the ilang-ilang [52] swayed, joyfully shaking
9380.416 its branches, laden with flowers; doves fluttered around the conical roof of his house, located in the middle of the garden.
9389.936 But the young man paid no attention to these joys offered by the return to his old home: his eyes were fixed on the figure of a priest,
9400.256 who was advancing in the opposite direction. It was the priest of San Diego, that meditative Franciscan we had seen, the enemy of the ensign. The
9408.336 air folded the wide brim of his hat; the gingham habit flattened and molded to his form, highlighting his thin
9418.416 , somewhat bowed thighs. In his right hand he carried a palasan [53] cane with an ivory handle. It was the first time that Ibarra and he had seen each other.
9427.296 When they met, the young man stopped for a moment and looked at him fixedly;
9432.376 Brother Salví avoided his gaze and acted distracted. His hesitation lasted only a second; Ibarra quickly approached him,
9440.336 stopped him by placing his hand firmly on his shoulder in a barely intelligible voice.
9445.736 « What have you done to my father? » he asked. Brother Salví, pale and trembling upon reading the emotions expressed
9454.376 on the young man’s face, was unable to answer: he felt
9460.056 paralyzed. « What have you done to my father? » he asked again in a stifled voice.
9466.336 The priest, gradually overcome by the hand that squeezing him, made an effort and answered:
9472.896 « You are mistaken; I have done nothing to your father! » « I have not? » the young man continued, squeezing him until he fell to
9479.656 his knees. « No, I assure you! It was my predecessor, it was Father Dámaso…
9486.112  » « Ah! » exclaimed the young man, letting go of him and slapping himself on the forehead. And abandoning poor Friar Salví, he hurried
9494.232 home. The servant arrived in the meantime and helped the friar to his feet.
9499.632 Chapter 14. Tasius the Madman, or the Philosopher The strange old man wandered distractedly through the streets.
9507.072 He was a former student of philosophy, who had abandoned his studies to obey his elderly mother, and it was not for lack of means or
9516.112 ability: it was precisely because his mother was rich, and it was said that
9521.832 he had talent. The good woman feared that her son would become a wise man and forget God, so she gave him the choice between being
9530.792 priest or leave the College of San José. He, who was in love, opted for the latter and married. Widowed and orphaned in less than a year,
9540.432 he sought solace in books to free himself from his sadness, from the cockpit, and from idleness. But he became so absorbed in his studies
9550.072 and book buying that he completely neglected his fortune and gradually ruined himself.
9555.672 Well-educated people called him Don Anastasio or the philosopher Tasio, and those with less-educated backgrounds, who were the majority, called him Tasio the madman,
9565.152 because of his strange thoughts and odd manner of treating people. As we were saying, the afternoon was threatening a storm; a few flashes of lightning
9573.192 illuminated the leaden sky with a pale light; the atmosphere was heavy and the air extremely muggy.
9579.552 The philosopher Tasio seems to have already forgotten his beloved skull: now he smiles, looking at the dark clouds.
9586.392 Near the church, he met a man dressed in an alpaca jacket, carrying in his hand more than an arroba worth of candles and a
9594.952 tasseled cane, the symbol of authority. « You seem cheerful? » the latter asked him in Tagalog.
9600.408 « Indeed, Captain; I am cheerful because I have hope.  » « Ah! And what hope is that?
9607.248  » « The storm!  » « The storm! You are surely planning to bathe? » asked the gobernadorcillo in a mocking tone, looking at the old man’s modest attire.
9614.848 « Bathing… isn’t bad, especially when you stumble upon garbage, » replied Tasio in a similar, if somewhat contemptuous, tone,
9622.648 looking his interlocutor in the face; « but I hope for something better.  » « What, then?
9627.928  » « A few lightning bolts that kill people and burn houses! » replied the philosopher seriously.
9634.808 « Just ask for a flood!  » « We all deserve it, you and I! » You, Señor Gobernadorcillo,
9642.168 have an arroba of candles there from the Chinese man’s store. For more than ten years I’ve been suggesting to each new captain the
9650.848 purchase of lightning rods, and they all laugh at me, and they buy bombs and rockets,
9656.888 and pay for bell ringing. What’s more, you yourself, the day after
9661.928 my proposal, ordered a bell for Santa Barbara from the Chinese man’s founders , even though science had proven that it’s dangerous
9670.488 to ring the bells on stormy days. And tell me, why in the year
9675.568 70 when lightning struck Biñan, did it strike precisely the tower and smash the clock and an altar? What was the bell doing for Santa Barbara?
9682.888 At that moment, a flash of lightning flashed. « Jesus, Mary, and Joseph! Blessed Santa Barbara! » murmured the
9689.008 Gobernadorcillo, turning pale and crossing himself. Tasio burst out laughing.
9694.168 « You are worthy of the name of your patron saint! » he said in Spanish, turning his back on him, and headed toward the church.
9701.568 Inside, the sextons were erecting a mound surrounded by candles in wooden candelabras. There were two large tables, one on top of the
9710.688 other, covered with white-striped Black People cloths; painted skulls could be seen here and there.
9718.448 « Is it for the souls or for the candles? » he asked. And seeing two boys, one ten years old and the other
9726.08 approximately seven, he addressed them without waiting for the sextons’ reply.
9731.84 « Are you coming with me, boys? » he asked. « Your mother has prepared a priest’s dinner for you.
9737.76  » « The head sexton won’t let us leave until eight, sir! » replied the eldest boy. « I hope to collect my salary to give
9744.96 to our mother.  » « Oh! And where are you going?  » « To the tower, sir, to toll for the souls. »
9750.96 « Are you going to the tower? Well, be careful! Don’t go near the bells during a storm. »
9757.44 Then he left the church, but not before following with a compassionate glance the two boys as they climbed the stairs
9764.6 to the choir stalls. Tasio rubbed his eyes, looked at the sky again, and murmured,
9770.48 « Now I’d feel like lightning was striking. » And with his head lowered, he headed thoughtfully toward the outskirts of the
9776.96 town. « Come in first! » a voice said to him in Spanish from a window. The philosopher raised his head and saw a man between thirty and thirty.
9785.56 and five years that he smiled at her. « What are you reading there? » asked Tasio, pointing to a book
9791.4 the man was holding. « It’s a current book: The Sorrows Suffered by the Blessed Souls
9796.44 of Purgatory! » replied the other, smiling. « Well, well, well! » exclaimed the old man in different tones of
9803.84 voice as he entered the house; « the author must be very clever. » Upon ascending the stairs, he was greeted in a friendly manner by the owner of
9811.12 the house and his young wife. His name was Don Filipo Lino, and her name was Doña Teodora Viña. Don Filipo was the senior lieutenant and the leader of an
9818.32 almost liberal party, if it can be called that, and if it is possible for
9823.96 parties to exist in the towns of the Philippines. « Have you found the son of the late Don Rafael,
9830.28 who has just arrived from Europe, in the cemetery ?  » « Yes, I saw him when I was getting out of the carriage.  » « They say he’s gone to look for his father’s grave… » The blow must
9839.528 have been terrible. The philosopher shrugged. « Aren’t you interested in this misfortune? » asked the young lady.
9848.128 « You know I was one of the six who accompanied the corpse; I was the one who presented myself to the Captain General when I saw that everyone here
9856.928 , even the authorities, remained silent in the face of such a great desecration,
9862.208 and yet I always prefer to honor a good man in his life rather than adore him in his death.
9867.488  » « So?  » « You know, madam, that I am not in favor of a
9872.568 hereditary monarchy. Because of the drops of Chinese blood my mother gave me, I think a bit like Chinese people: I honor the father for the son, but not
9881.968 the son for the father. Let each person receive reward or punishment for their deeds, but not for those of others.
9889.008  » « Have you ordered a mass to be said for your late wife, as I advised you yesterday? » asked the woman.
9896.248 « No! » replied the old man, smiling. « What a pity! » she exclaimed with genuine regret. « They say that until
9905.448 tomorrow, at ten o’clock, the souls wander free, awaiting the suffrages
9910.528 of the living; that one Mass these days is equivalent to five on other days of the year, or six, as the priest said this morning.
9918.768  » « Hello! So you mean we have a gracious opportunity to take advantage of?  » « But, Doray! » Don Filipo intervened. « You know that Don Anastasio
9927.648 doesn’t believe in purgatory.  » « I don’t believe in purgatory? » the old man protested, rising from his seat. « I even know something of its history!
9936.128  » « The history of purgatory! » both partners exclaimed, full of surprise. « Let’s see! Tell us about it!
9944.632  » « Don’t you know it, and yet you send Masses there and talk about your sufferings? Well! » « Since it’s beginning to rain and it looks like it’s going to last,
9952.112 we’ll have time to not get bored, » replied Tasio, settling down for a moment to meditate.
9957.912 Don Filipo closed the book he was holding, and Doray sat down beside him , determined not to believe anything old Tasio was
9966.992 going to say. He began as follows: « Purgatory existed long before
9973.552 Our Lord Jesus Christ came into the world, and it must have been in the center of the earth according to Father Astete, or near Cluny, according to the monk
9982.272 Father Girard tells us about. The location here is of little importance. Now then,
9987.592 who toasted themselves in those fires that burned from the beginning of the world? Their ancient existence is proven by Christian philosophy,
9995.512 which says that God has created nothing new since He rested.  » « It could have existed in potentia, but not in actu, » objected the
10002.792 lieutenant-chief. « Very well! » However, I will answer that some knew him as existing in actu, and one of them was Zarathustra or Zoroaster,
10013.232 who wrote part of the Avesta and founded a religion, which had certain
10018.672 points of contact with our own; and Zarathustra, according to the wise, existed at least eight hundred years before Jesus Christ. I say at least,
10027.672 for Gaffarel, after examining the testimonies of Plato, Xanthus of Lydia, Pliny, Hermipus and Eudoxus, believes him to be two thousand
10036.512 five hundred years older than our era. Be this as it may, it is certain that Zarathustra already spoke of a kind of purgatory, and gave
10045.312 the means to free oneself from it. The living can redeem the souls of the dead in sin by reciting passages from the Avesta and performing good
10054.552 works, but on the condition that the person praying be a relative up to the fourth generation.
10059.768 The time for this took place every year and lasted five days. Later, when this belief had taken hold among
10066.928 the people, the priests of that religion saw a great business in it and exploited those profoundly dark prisons where
10074.928 remorse reigns, as Zarathustra says. They established, then, that for the price of one derem, a coin of little value they say,
10084.208 the soul can be spared a year of torture; but since for that religion there were sins that cost from 300 to 1,000 years of suffering,
10093.888 such as lying, bad faith, not keeping a given word, etc.,
10099.528 it turned out that the rogues pocketed millions of derems. Here you will see something that resembles our purgatory, although
10108.208 with the implied difference of religious differences. A flash of lightning, followed by a resounding peal of thunder, made Doray stand up, and
10117.168 while crossing himself, he said: « Jesus, Mary, and Joseph! I’m leaving you; I’m going to burn some blessed palm
10123.768 and light candles of forgiveness. » The rain began to fall in torrents. The philosopher Tasio continued,
10130.168 as he watched the young woman walk away: « Now that she’s gone, we can discuss the matter more
10137.088 reasonably. Doray, although a little superstitious, is a good
10142.608 Catholic, and I don’t like to tear faith from the heart. A pure and
10148.128 simple faith is distinguished from fanaticism like flame from smoke, like music from clamor: fools and deaf people
10156.768 confuse them. Among ourselves, we can say that the idea of ​​Purgatory is good, holy, and reasonable. » It continues the union between those who were
10164.928 and those who are, and obliges one to a greater purity of life. The evil lies in the abuse that is made of it.
10171.088 But let us now see how this idea, which did not exist either in the Bible or in the Holy Gospels, could have passed into Catholicism .
10177.896 Neither Moses nor Jesus Christ make the slightest mention of it, and the only passage
10183.456 they cite from the Maccabees is insufficient. In addition, this book was
10188.736 declared apocryphal by the Council of Laodicea, and the Holy Catholic Church only admitted it subsequently. Pagan religion
10196.936 also had nothing similar to it. The oft-quoted passage from Virgil’s Aliæ panduntur inanes [54], which gave St. Gregory
10206.576 the Great occasion to speak of drowned souls, and Dante for another story in his Divine Comedy, cannot be the origin of this belief. Neither the
10214.456 Brahmins, nor the Buddhists, nor the Egyptians, who gave Greece and Rome
10219.576 their Charon and their Avernus, had anything resembling this idea. I am not even speaking of the religions of the peoples of Northern Europe: these
10228.336 religions of warriors, bards, and hunters, but not of philosophers, although they still preserve their beliefs and even Christianized rites,
10236.456 could not accompany their hordes in the sack of Rome or sit on the Capitol: religions of the mists, they dissipated in the
10245.136 midday sun. Well, the Christians of the first centuries did not believe in Purgatory: they died with that joyful confidence of soon seeing
10254.176 God face to face. The first Fathers of the Church who seem to have mentioned it were St. Clement of Alexandria, Origen, and St. Irenaeus,
10263.256 perhaps influenced by the Zarathustrian religion, which was then
10268.536 still flourishing and widespread throughout the East, for we read at every step reproaches to the Orientalism of Origen. St. Irenaeus proved
10277.576 its existence by the fact that Jesus Christ remained three days in the depths of the earth, three days of Purgatory, and he concluded
10286.176 from this that every soul must remain there until the resurrection
10291.856 of the body, although in this the Hodie mecum eris in Paradiso [55] seems to contradict him.
10298.64 St. Augustine also speaks of Purgatory, but, if he does not affirm its existence, he does not believe it impossible,
10307.16 supposing that the punishments we receive in this one for our sins could continue in the other life.
10313.2 “Dear Saint Augustine!” exclaimed Don Filipo; “he was not satisfied
10319.0 with what we suffer here, and he wanted it to continue! ” “Well, that’s how it was: some believed, others did not. Although
10326.0 Saint Gregory had already admitted it in his “de quibusdam levibus culpis
10332.0 esse ante judicium purgatorius ignis credendus est,”[56] nothing was
10338.16 definitive about it until the year 1439, that is, eight centuries later
10344.4 , when the Council of Florence declared that there should be a purifying fire for the souls of those who have died in the love of
10351.36 God, but without having yet satisfied divine Justice. Lastly, the Council of Trent, under Pius IV, in 1563
10360.64 , in the 25th session, issued the decree on Purgatory which begins: Cum catholica ecclesia, Spiriiu Sancto edocta etc. [57] where
10372.24 he says that the suffrages of the living, prayers, alms, and other pious works were the most effective means of freeing souls,
10380.64 although he places the sacrifice of the Mass before everything else. Protestants, however, do not believe in him, and the Greek Fathers neither, for they
10389.0 lack any biblical foundation, and they say that the period of merit or demerit ends at death, and that the Quodcumque
10397.0 ligaberis in terra… [58] does not mean usque ad purgatorium, etc. [59]; but to this it may be replied that Purgatory being
10407.08 in the center of the earth, naturally fell under the dominion of St. Peter. But I should not finish if I had to repeat here all that
10414.36 has been said on the subject. One day when you wish to discuss the matter with me, come to my house, and there we will open volumes and discuss
10424.24 freely and quietly. Now I’m going: I don’t know why tonight the piety of Christians permits theft—you, the authorities,
10434.024 allow it—and I fear for my books. If they were stolen so I could read them, I would let them, but I know that many want to burn them as a
10443.144 work of charity, and this kind of charity, worthy of the Caliph Omar,
10448.864 is fearsome. Some people believe I’m already damned because of these books. « But I suppose you believe in damnation? » asked
10456.944 Doray, smiling, who appeared carrying a brazier of dried palm leaves that gave off a bothersome smoke and a pleasant perfume.
10465.464 « I don’t know, madam, what God will do with me! » replied old Tasio thoughtfully. « When I am dying, I will give myself to Him without fear;
10473.504 do with me what He wills. But a thought occurs to me.  » « And what is that thought? »
10479.624 « If the only ones who can be saved are Catholics, and of these five percent, as many priests say, and
10488.104 Catholics making up a twelfth of the earth’s population if we are to believe what the statistics say, it would follow that after
10496.504 thousands upon thousands of men having been damned during the innumerable centuries that passed before the Savior came into the world,
10505.144 after a Son of God died for us, now only five out of every twelve hundred would be saved. Oh certainly
10513.424 not! I prefer to say and believe with Job: Will you be severe with a flying leaf or chase after a dry twig? No, such misfortune is impossible,
10522.744 to believe it is blasphemy, no, no!  » « What do you want? Justice, divine Purity…
10528.384  » « Oh! But Justice and divine Purity foresaw the future before creation! » replied the old man, shuddering and standing up.
10537.44 –Creation , man is a contingent and not necessary being, and that God
10542.72 should not have created him, no, if to make one happy he had to condemn
10547.76 hundreds to eternal misfortune, and all for inherited or momentary faults. No! If that were true, drown your child
10558.44 who sleeps there; if such a belief were not a blasphemy against that God who is supposed to be the Supreme Good, then the Phoenician Molok who
10566.96 fed on human sacrifices and innocent blood, and in whose entrails children torn from their mothers’ wombs were burned,
10575.6 that bloodthirsty god, that horrible divinity would be next to him a weak maiden, a friend, the mother of Humanity.
10583.44 And filled with horror, the madman or the philosopher left the house, running into the street despite the rain and the darkness.
10590.52 A dazzling flash of lightning, accompanied by a terrifying crash of thunder, sowing the air with deadly sparks, illuminated the old man who, stretching his
10599.2 hands to heaven, cried: “You protest! I know you are not cruel, I know that I should only call you
10606.04 The Good!” The lightning flashes redoubled, the storm raged… Chapter 15. THE SEXTONS.
10612.2 The thunder crashed at short intervals, crossing one another, and each crash was preceded by the terrifying zigzag of the lightning:
10621.0 one would have said that God was writing his name with fire and that the eternal vault trembled in fear. The rain fell in torrents and,
10629.8 lashed by the wind, which whistled dismally, it changed
10635.2 direction in a daze every moment. The bells intoned their melancholy prayer with fearful voices , and in the brief silence left by
10642.92 the robust roar of the unleashed elements, a sad tolling, apparently a complaint, wailed in mourning.
10650.04 On the second floor of the tower were the two boys, whom we saw in passing talking with the philosopher.
10656.0 The younger one, who had large black eyes and a timid countenance, tried to stick his body close to
10661.52 his brother, who closely resembled him in features, only his gaze was deeper and his face more determined. Both were
10669.28 poorly dressed, heavily mended and patched. Seated on a piece of wood, each held a rope in his hand, the end of which
10677.8 was lost in the shadows of the third floor. The rain, driven by the wind, reached them and stirred the end of a
10685.72 candle burning on a large stone, which is used to imitate thunder on Good Friday by rolling it through the choir stalls.
10694.16 « Pull your rope, Crispin! » said the eldest to his little brother. He hung on to it, and a faint wail was heard above,
10704.16 instantly drowned by a crash of thunder, echoed a thousand times over. « Ah! If only we were at home now, with Mother! » sighed the little one,
10712.8 looking at his brother; there he would not be afraid. The eldest did not reply; he was watching the wax spilling and
10719.48 seemed worried. « No one there tells me I steal! » added Crispin; « Mother wouldn’t
10724.68 allow it! If she knew they were hitting me… » The eldest looked away from the flame, raised his head, and bit
10731.56 hard on the thick rope, which he tugged violently, emitting
10737.44 a loud vibration. « Are we going to live like this forever, Brother? » continued Crispin. « I wish I were sick tomorrow at home, I wish I had a
10744.92 long illness so that Mother would take care of me and not let me return to the convent! » That way they wouldn’t call me a thief, or beat me! And you too,
10755.64 brother, should have gotten sick with me. « No! » replied the eldest; « we would all die: Mother of grief,
10761.92 and we of hunger. » Crispín didn’t reply. « How much do you earn this month? » he asked after a moment.
10768.36 « Two pesos: they’ve fined me three times.  » « Pay what they say I stole, that way they won’t call us thieves;
10774.848 pay it, brother!  » « Are you crazy, Crispín? Mother wouldn’t have anything to eat; the head sexton
10781.448 says you stole two ounces, and two ounces are thirty-two pesos. » The little one counted on his fingers until he reached thirty-two.
10789.208 « Six hands and two fingers! And each finger a peso, » he murmured afterward thoughtfully. « And each peso… how many cuartos?
10796.448  » « One hundred and sixty.  » « One hundred and sixty cuartos? One hundred and sixty times a cuarto? Mother! And how many are one hundred and sixty? »
10804.088 “Thirty-two hands,” replied the eldest. Crispin stood for a moment looking at his little hands.
10809.448 “Thirty-two hands!” he repeated; “six hands and two fingers, and each
10814.808 finger thirty-two hands… and each finger a quarter… Mother, how many quarters! You won’t be able to count them in three days… and you can buy
10823.728 slippers for your feet, and a hat for your head when the sun is hot, and a big umbrella when it rains, and food, and clothes for you and
10833.608 Mother and…”
Crispin grew thoughtful. “Now, I’m sorry I didn’t steal! ” “Crispin!” chided his brother,
10841.608 “Don’t be angry! The priest said he would beat me to death if I didn’t appear
10847.208 the money; if I had stolen it, I could make it appear… and if I die, at least you and Mother should have clothes! If I had stolen it!
10856.248 The eldest fell silent and tugged at his rope. Then he replied, sighing: « What I’m afraid of is that Mother will scold you when she finds out!
10863.768  » « Do you believe it? » asked the little one, surprised. « You must say that they’ve already beaten me badly. I’ll show her my bruises and my
10871.888 personal purse. I only had a quarter they gave me at Easter, and the priest took it from me yesterday. I haven’t seen a finer quarter. Mother
10881.368 won’t believe it, she won’t believe it!  » « If the priest says so… » Crispin began to cry, murmuring between his sobs:
10889.584 « Then go away alone, I don’t want to go; tell Mother that I’m sick; I don’t want to go.
10896.984  » « Crispin, don’t cry! » said the eldest. « Mother won’t believe it; Don’t cry;
10903.264 old Tasio said a good dinner awaits us… Crispín raised his head and looked at his brother:
10910.424 « A good dinner! I haven’t eaten yet; they won’t feed me until the two ounces appear… But what if Mother believes it? You
10919.064 ‘ll tell her that the head sexton is lying, and the priest who believes him, too, that they all lie; that they say we’re thieves because our
10927.584 father is a vicious man who… » But a head appeared coming out of the bottom of the stairs that led to the main floor, and this head, like Medusa’s, froze
10938.344 the word on the boy’s lips. It was a long, thin head, with long black hair; blue glasses hid a
10947.624 one-eyed eye. It was the head sexton, who usually appeared like this, without noise, without warning.
10954.344 The two brothers remained frozen. « You, Basilio, I’m imposing a fine of two reales for not playing in
10961.384 time! » he said in a hollow voice as if he had no vocal cords. « And
10966.784 you, Crispín, stay tonight until what you stole turns up. » Crispín looked at his brother as if pleading for protection.
10974.064 « We already have permission… Mother is expecting us at eight, » Basilio murmured timidly.
10979.984 « But you’re not leaving at eight either! Not until ten!  » « But, sir, at nine we can’t walk and the house is far away.
10988.544  » « And you’ll want to send me? » the man asked irritably. And taking Crispín by the arm, he tried to drag him away.
10995.984 « Sir! It’s been a week since we’ve seen our mother! » Basilio pleaded, taking his little brother as if to defend him.
11003.352 The head sexton slapped him away and dragged Crispín away. Crispín began to cry, sinking to the ground as he called
11011.912 to his brother, « Don’t leave me! They’ll kill me! » But the sexton, ignoring him, dragged him down the stairs,
11020.952 disappearing into the shadows. Basilio was left unable to utter a word. He heard
11027.672 his little brother’s body thump against the steps, a scream, several claps, and then those heartbreaking sounds
11036.232 gradually faded away . The boy wasn’t breathing; he stood listening, his eyes wide
11042.272 open, his fists clenched. « When will I be able to plow a field! » he muttered under his breath, and
11048.192 hurried downstairs. When he reached the choir stall, he began to listen attentively; his little brother’s voice
11053.632 was fading rapidly away, and the cry of « Mother! Brother! » was completely extinguished by the closing of a door. Trembling and sweating,
11063.232 he stopped for a moment; he bit his fist to stifle a cry that escaped from his heart and let his gaze wander in the semi-darkness of
11071.832 the church. There the oil lamp burned dimly; the catafalque
11076.872 stood in the middle: the doors were all closed, and the windows had bars.
11082.512 Suddenly he mounted the ladder, passed through the second floor, where the candle was burning, and climbed to the third. He untied the ropes that held the
11090.752 clappers, and then descended again pale, but his eyes shone,
11095.992 and not with tears. Meanwhile, the rain was beginning to cease and the sky was gradually clearing
11101.712 . Basilio knotted the ropes, tied one end to a balustrade,
11108.272 and without remembering to turn off the light, let himself slip into the middle of the darkness.
11113.392 A few minutes later, voices were heard in one of the town’s streets and two shots rang out; but no one was alarmed, and all was
11121.992 silent again. Chapter 16. SISA. The night is dark: the neighbors sleep in silence; the families
11132.424 who have remembered those who have passed away are drifting off to sleep, tranquil and content. They have prayed three parts of the rosary
11141.304 with requiems, the novena for souls, and burned many wax candles
11146.864 before the sacred images. The rich and wealthy have paid their respects to the relatives who had bequeathed them their fortunes; the next day they would hear
11155.384 the three masses said by each priest, give two pesos for another for their intention, and then buy the papal bull for the deceased, full
11164.944 of indulgences. By faith, divine justice does not seem as demanding as human justice.
11170.664 But the poor man, the destitute man who barely earns enough to support himself and has to bribe the ministers, clerks, and soldiers to
11179.664 let him live in peace, does not sleep with the tranquility that court poets believe, who perhaps have not suffered the caresses
11187.184 of misery. The poor man is sad and thoughtful. That night, if he prayed little, he prayed a lot, with pain in his eyes and tears
11195.584 in his heart. He does not have the novenas, nor does he know the ejaculations, the verses, or the oremus that the friars have composed for
11204.184 those who have no ideas or feelings of their own; he does not
11209.224 understand them either. He prays in the language of his misery; his soul weeps for himself and for the dead whose love was his good. His lips
11217.904 may utter greetings, but his mind cries out complaints and utters lamentations. Will you be satisfied, you who blessed poverty, and
11227.064 you tormented shadows, with the simple prayer of the poor, uttered before a badly engraved image, by the light of a timsim
11236.424 [60], or do you perhaps desire candles before bloody Christs, Virgins with small mouths and crystal eyes, the Latin masses,
11246.864 which the priest says mechanically? And you, Religion preached for suffering humanity, have you forgotten your mission to console the
11255.584 oppressed in their misery and to humble the powerful in their pride, and would you now only have promises for the rich, for those who can pay you?
11263.944 The poor widow watches over her children sleeping at her side; she thinks of the bulls she must buy for the repose of her parents and her
11271.784 deceased husband. A peso, she says, a peso is a week of love for my children, a week of laughter and joy, a month’s savings,
11281.944 a dress for my daughter who is becoming a woman… « But it is necessary that you put out these fires, » says the voice she heard preaching; it is
11290.824 necessary that you sacrifice yourself. Yes! It is necessary! The Church does not
11296.144 save your beloved souls for free: it does not distribute free bulls.
11301.584 You must buy it and, instead of sleeping at night, you will work. In the meantime, let your daughter show her modest nakedness; fast, for heaven is
11310.984 expensive! It definitely seems that the poor do not enter heaven! »
11316.464 These thoughts fly through the space that separates the sahig [61], where the humble mat is spread, from the palupu [62] from which
11325.784 hangs the hammock in which the child rocks. His breathing is easy and calm; From time to time he chews his saliva and makes sounds:
11334.224 he dreams of eating his hungry stomach, not satisfied with what his older brothers have given him.
11339.544 The cicadas go on singing monotonously, joining their eternal and continuous note to the trills of the cricket, hidden in the grass, or of the
11349.544 zarandija that comes out of its hole to look for food, while the chacón [63], no longer fearing the water, disturbs the concert with his fateful
11358.224 voice, sticking his head out of the hole of a rotten tree trunk. The dogs bark pitifully in the street, and the superstitious person who
11367.344 listens to them is convinced that animals see spirits and shadows. But neither dogs nor other insects see the sorrows of
11375.184 men, and yet how many there are! Far from the town, about an hour away, lives the
11382.744 mother of Basilio and Crispín, wife of a heartless man, the who tries to live for her children while her husband wanders and plays
11390.424 cock-a-doodle-doo. Their interviews are rare, but always painful. He has been stripping her of her few jewels to feed his vices, and when
11398.784 the long-suffering Sisa [64] no longer possessed anything to sustain her husband’s whims
11405.024 , he began to mistreat her. Weak of character, with more heart than brain, she only knew how to love and weep. For her, her
11414.984 husband was her God; her children were her angels. He, who knew to what extent he was adored and feared, behaved like all
11424.344 false gods; every day he grew more cruel, inhuman, and willful. When Sisa consulted him, once she saw his face more
11433.184 somber than ever, about his plan to make Basilio sacristan, he continued to stroke the cock, said neither yes nor no, and only asked if
11441.784 he would earn much money. She did not dare to insist; But her difficult situation and her desire for the children to learn to read and write
11450.304 in the village school compelled her to carry out the project. Her
11455.664 husband also said nothing. That night, around ten-thirty or eleven, when the stars
11463.2 were already shining in the sky, which the storm had cleared, Sisa was sitting on a wooden bench, looking at some branches
11471.12 half-burning in her hearth, made of more or less angular living stones. On one of these tripods, or tunkô, there was a small pot in
11480.56 which she was cooking rice, and on the embers were three dried sardines,
11485.76 three and a half of which are sold. She rested her chin on the palm of her hand, looking at the
11492.52 weak, yellowish flame given off by the reed, whose fleeting embers soon turned to ash; a sad smile lit her face. She remembered the
11501.96 amusing riddle about the pot and the fire, which Crispín once proposed to her . The boy said:
11508.76 Naupú si Maitim, sinulut ni Mapulá Nang malaó y kumara kará [65].
11514.96 She was still young and it was known that she must have been beautiful and graceful at one time. Her eyes, which she, like her soul, gave to her children,
11524.76 were beautiful, with long eyelashes and a deep gaze; her nose was
11529.84 correct; her pale lips, of a graceful design. She was what the
11534.88 Tagalogs call kayumanging kaligatan, that is, dark, but of a
11540.08 clear and pure color. However, due to her youth, pain, or perhaps
11545.76 hunger, is beginning to undermine her pale cheeks, and her abundant hair, once a symbol and adornment of her person, is still dressed not
11555.08 out of coquetry but out of habit: a very simple bun without needles
11560.48 or combs. She had been several days without leaving the house, sewing a project that she had been asked to complete as quickly as possible. In order to earn money, she
11568.88 skipped Mass that morning, as it would have taken at least two hours to travel to the village: « Poverty compels one to
11576.88 sin! » Her work done, she took it to the owner, but he only
11583.28 promised to pay. All day she thought about the pleasures of the evening: she knew her
11588.792 children were coming, and she thought of giving them gifts. She bought sardines, picked the most beautiful tomatoes from her
11594.232 little garden, because she knew they were Crispín’s favorite
11599.432 food ; she asked her neighbor, the philosopher Tasio, who lived
11605.032 half a kilometer away, for a wild boar’s cap and a leg of wild duck, Basilio’s favorite morsels. And full of hope, she cooked the
11613.912 whitest rice, which she herself had gathered from the threshing floors. It was,
11619.192 in fact, a priest’s dinner for the poor children. But by an unfortunate chance, her husband came and ate the
11626.912 rice, the wild boar’s cap, the duck’s leg, five sardines, and the tomatoes. Sisa said nothing, although it seemed to her that she was being eaten
11635.432 . Having had enough, he remembered to ask about the children; then Sisa was able to smile and, content, she secretly promised not to have dinner
11644.832 that night, since what was left wasn’t enough for three. The father asked about his children, and this was more than just food to her.
11652.472 Then he took his rooster and wanted to leave. « Don’t you want to see them? » she asked tremblingly. « Old Tasio
11659.472 told me they’d be a little late; Crispín is already reading, and… perhaps Basilio
11664.512 will bring his salary! » At this last reason, the husband stopped, hesitated, but his words triumphed.
11670.352 Good angel. « In that case, save me a peso! » she said, and left.
11675.432 Sisa wept bitterly, but remembered her children and dried her tears. She cooked new rice and prepared the three sardines that were left:
11684.032 each one would have one and a half. « They’ll bring a good appetite! » she thought; « the road is long and
11693.112 hungry stomachs have no heart. » Attentive to every sound, we found her listening to the slightest footsteps;
11698.992 strong and clear, Basilio; light and uneven, Crispín, she thought.
11704.752 The kalao [66] sang in the forest two or three times now, since the
11710.832 rain had stopped, and yet her children still hadn’t arrived. She put the sardines back in the pot so they wouldn’t get cold and
11718.792 approached the threshold of the hut to look toward the road. In order to distract herself, she began to sing in a low voice. She had a beautiful voice,
11727.352 and when her children heard her sing kundiman [67] they cried without knowing why. But that night her voice trembled, and the notes came out sluggishly.
11737.352 She stopped singing and gazed into the darkness. No one came from the village, except for the wind that made the water fall from the broad
11745.112 banana leaves. Suddenly she saw a Black Person dog appear in front of her; the animal
11750.192 was tracking something on the path. Sisa was afraid, picked up a stone, and threw it at it. The dog ran away howling mournfully.
11758.192 Sisa was not superstitious, but she had heard so much about premonitions and Black Person dogs that terror seized her. She
11767.872 hurriedly closed the door and sat down next to the light. Night favors beliefs, and imagination fills the air with specters.
11776.032 She tried to pray, to invoke the Virgin, to invoke God to take care of her children, especially her little Crispin. And absentmindedly she forgot
11785.072 her prayer in order to think only of them, remembering each one’s features , those features that smile at her continually, whether in
11793.832 dreams or when awake. But suddenly she felt her hair stand on end, her eyes opened wide; dream or reality, she saw
11803.552 Crispin standing beside the hearth, there where he used to sit and chat with her. Now he said nothing; he looked at her with those large,
11812.152 thoughtful eyes, and smiled. « Mother, open up! Open up, Mother! » said Basilio’s voice from outside.
11819.512 Sisa shuddered violently, and the vision disappeared. Chapter 17.
11824.912 Basilio. Life is a dream. Basilio barely managed to enter and, staggering, threw himself into
11831.648 his mother’s arms. An inexplicable chill seized Sisa when she saw him arrive alone. She wanted
11836.968 to speak, but found no sound; she wanted to embrace her son, but found no strength either; crying was impossible.
11844.408 But at the sight of the blood bathing the child’s forehead, she was able to cry with that accent that seems to announce the breaking of a heartstring:
11853.648 « My children!  » « Fear nothing, Mother! » Basilio answered. « Crispín has stayed
11859.328 at the convent.  » « At the convent? Has he stayed at the convent? Is he alive? » The child raised his eyes to her.
11866.168 « Ah! » he exclaimed, passing from the greatest anguish to the greatest joy. Sisa
11871.208 wept, embraced her son, covering his bleeding forehead with kisses. « Crispín is alive! You left him at the convent… and why are you
11879.768 hurt, my son? Have you fallen? » And she examined him carefully. « The head sexton, when he took Crispín away, told me I couldn’t
11888.408 leave until ten, and since it was very late, I ran away. In the village, the soldiers shouted at me, ‘Who’s alive?’ I started to run, they fired, and a
11896.568 bullet grazed my forehead. I was afraid they would catch me and make me scrub the barracks with clubs like they did to Pablo, who is still sick.
11904.688  » « My God, my God! » the mother murmured, shuddering. « You saved him! »
11910.248 And she added, while she looked for cloths, water, vinegar, and heron’s down:
11915.408 « One more finger and they’ll kill you, they’ll kill my son! The Civil Guards don’t think about mothers!
11921.008  » « You’ll say I fell out of a tree; don’t let anyone know I was persecuted.  » « Why did Crispín stay? » Sisa asked, after she had
11929.648 treated her son. He looked at her for a few moments, then, embracing her,
11935.288 he told her little by little about the ounces; however, he did not mention the tortures they made his little brother suffer.
11942.448 Mother and son mingled in their tears. “My good Crispin! To accuse my good Crispin! It’s because we are poor,
11950.848 and we poor people have to suffer everything!” murmured Sisa, looking with
11956.208 tearful eyes at the tinhoy [68], whose oil was running out.
11961.768 Thus they remained for some time in silence. “Have you had supper yet? Have you not? There are rice and dried sardines.
11968.448 ” “I don’t want any; water, I just want water. ” “Yes!” replied the mother sadly. “I knew you didn’t like
11975.568 dried sardines; I had prepared something else for you, but your father came, my poor boy!”
11981.968 « Did Father come? » asked Basil, instinctively examining his mother’s face and hands. The son’s question made
11990.368 Sisa’s heart ache, and she understood only too well, so she hastened to add:
11996.128 « He came and asked a lot about you, he wanted to see you; he was very hungry. He said that if you continued to be good, he would come back to
12003.208 us.  » « Ah! » interrupted Basil, and his lips contracted with disgust.
12008.848 « Son! » she chided him. « Forgive me, mother! » she replied seriously. « Aren’t we
12015.088 three better off, you, Crispin, and I? But you’re crying; I didn’t say anything.  » Sisa sighed.
12020.608 « Aren’t you having supper? Then let’s go to bed, it’s already late. » Sisa closed the hut and covered the few embers with ashes so
12030.688 they wouldn’t go out, as man does with the feelings of the soul: covering them with the ashes of life they call indifference, so
12040.208 they won’t be extinguished by the daily contact with our fellow human beings. Basilio murmured his prayers and lay down next to his mother, who
12047.288 was kneeling in prayer. He felt hot and cold; he tried to close his eyes, thinking of his little brother,
12054.088 who that night had been dreaming of sleeping on his mother’s lap, and now would be crying and trembling with fear in a dark corner of the convent.
12061.752 His ears echoed those cries, just as he had heard them in the tower, but weary nature began to confuse his thoughts, and the
12071.232 spirit of dreams descended upon his eyes. He saw an alcove where two candles were burning. The priest, holding the vine in
12078.632 his hand, listened gloomily to the head sexton, who spoke to him in a strange language, with horrible gestures. Crispín trembled and turned his
12088.112 tearful eyes in every direction, as if searching for someone or a hiding place. The
12094.272 priest turned to him and spoke angrily, and the vine whistled. The child ran to hide behind the sexton, but the latter caught him,
12103.432 held him, and offered him up to the priest’s fury. The unfortunate boy struggled, kicked,
12109.512 screamed, threw himself to the ground, rolled, got up, fled, slipped, fell,
12114.992 and parried the blows with his hands, which, wounded, he hid loudly , howling
12120.032 . Basilio saw him writhing, beating his head on the ground, saw and heard the vine whistle! His little brother got up in despair;
12128.392 mad with pain, he threw himself at his tormentors and bit the priest’s hand. The priest let out a scream, dropped the vine, and The head sexton
12136.552 takes a stick, hits him on the head, and the boy falls stunned; the priest, seeing himself wounded, kicks him, but he no longer defends himself, no longer cries:
12146.912 he rolls on the ground like an inert mass and leaves a wet trail [69]…
12152.232 Sisa’s voice brought him back to reality. « What’s the matter? Why are you crying? » « I dreamed!… My God! » exclaimed Basilio, sitting up covered in
12161.352 sweat. « It was a dream, tell me, Mother, it was only a dream, just a dream!
12167.632  » « What did you dream? » The boy didn’t answer. He sat down to wipe away his tears and sweat. The hut was completely dark.
12176.472 « A dream, a dream! » repeated Basilio in a low voice. « Tell me what you dreamed; I can’t sleep! » said the mother when
12184.912 her son went back to bed. « Well, » he said in a low voice, « I dreamed that we went to pick
12190.592 ears of corn… in a field where there were many flowers… the women had baskets full of ears of corn… the men also had baskets
12199.488 full of ears of corn… and the children too… I don’t remember anything else, mother, I don’t remember the rest!
12205.088 Sisa didn’t insist; she paid no attention to dreams. « Mother, I made a plan last night, » Basilio said after
12213.288 a few minutes of silence. « What plan? » she asked. Sisa, humble in all things, was humble even with her children; she believed them
12221.248 to be more sensible than herself. « I wouldn’t want to be a sacristan anymore!  » « What?  » « Listen, Mother, to what I’ve been thinking. Today the son of the late Don Rafael arrived from Spain
12230.248 , and he will be as good as his father. Well then, Mother, tomorrow you take Crispín out, collect my salary, and say
12239.648 I will no longer be a sacristan. As soon as I get better, I will go to Don Crisóstomo and beg him to admit me as a herder of cows or
12248.528 carabaos: I am old enough now. Crispín can learn at old Tasio’s house, who is not good and is good, even if the priest doesn’t believe it
12257.368 . » What do we have to fear from Father now? Can he make us poorer than we are? Believe it, Mother, the old man is good; I
12265.928 ‘ve seen him several times in church when no one is there; he kneels and prays, believe it. So, Mother, I’ll stop being a sexton;
12275.168 one earns little, and even what one earns goes to fines. Everyone complains about the same thing. I’ll be a shepherd, and by taking good care of what’s entrusted to me,
12284.248 I’ll endear myself to the owner. Perhaps they’ll let us milk a cow for milk; Crispin loves milk very much. Who knows! Perhaps
12293.128 they’ll give you a calf if they see I’m good; we’ll take care of it and fatten it
12298.168 up like our hen. In the forest, I’ll pick fruit and sell it in town along with the vegetables from our garden,
12306.128 and that way we’ll have money. I’ll set snares and traps to catch birds and wild cats, I’ll fish in the river, and when I’m older, I’ll hunt. I can
12316.064 also cut firewood to sell or give to the owner of the cows, and that way we’ll keep him happy. When I can plow, I’ll ask him to entrust me with a
12324.424 piece of land to plant sugarcane or corn, and you won’t have to
12330.184 sew until midnight. We’ll have new clothes every holiday, we’ll eat meat and large fish. In the meantime, I’ll live free; we’ll see each other every
12339.144 day and eat together. And since old Tasio says Crispín has a lot of wit, we’ll send him to Manila to study. I’ll keep him
12348.504 working, right, Mother? And he’ll be a doctor, what do you say? « What should I say? Yes! » Sisa replied, embracing her son.
12356.064 She had noticed that her son didn’t count on his father for the future, and she wept silent tears.
12362.664 Basilio continued talking about his plans with the confidence of old age, which sees only what one wants to see. Sisa said yes to everything;
12372.184 everything seemed good to her. Sleep slowly descended again upon the child’s tired eyelids, and this time the Ole Luköie of whom
12380.864 Andersen speaks unfurled his beautiful umbrella over him, full of joyful pictures.
12386.784 He could already see a shepherd with his little brother; they picked guavas, alpay [70] and other fruits in the forest; they walked from branch to branch, light as
12396.864 butterflies; they entered the caves and saw that the walls shone;
12402.024 they bathed in the springs, and the sand was like gold dust, and the stones like the stones in the Virgin’s crown. The little fish
12411.024 sang and laughed to them, the plants bowed their branches, laden with coins and fruit. Then he saw a bell hanging from a tree,
12419.544 and a long rope to ring it. A cow was tied to the rope with a bird’s nest between its antlers, and Crispín was inside
12427.704 the bell, etc. And so he dreamed. But his mother, who was not his age and had not run for an hour,
12434.0 did not sleep. Chapter 18. Souls in Pain. It was about seven in the morning when Friar Salví finished saying his
12442.84 last Mass: all three were offered in the space of an hour. « The father is ill, » said the devotees; « he does not move with his
12451.8 usual slowness and elegance.  » He removed his garments without saying a word, without looking at anyone,
12458.48 without making a single observation. « Attention! » whispered the sacristans; « the drill
12463.84 is progressing! Fines are going to rain down, and all because of the two brothers! » He left the sacristy to go up to the parish house, where
12473.08 seven or eight women and a man were waiting for him, sitting on the pews in the vestibule, pacing up and down. Seeing him coming,
12482.6 they stood up. A woman came forward to kiss his hand, but the priest made such an impatient gesture that he stopped her in
12490.68 her tracks. « Has he lost a Kuriput coin? » [71] exclaimed the woman with a mocking laugh
12497.04 , offended by such a welcome. « Sister Rufa, the guardian of the Brotherhood, shouldn’t be allowed to kiss her hand ! » This was
12506.2 unheard of. « This morning he didn’t sit in the confessional! » added Sister
12511.88 Sipa, an old woman with no teeth. « I wanted to go to confession to receive communion and gain indulgences. »
12517.2 « Well, I pity you! » replied a young woman of candid countenance; « this
12522.64 week I won three plenary sessions, and I dedicated them to the soul of my husband.  » « Wrong, Sister Juana! » said the offended Rufa. « One plenary session
12531.64 was enough to get him out of Purgatory; you must not waste the holy indulgences; do as I do.
12538.68  » « I said: the more, the better! » replied the simple Sister Juana, smiling.
12544.056 « But tell me, what are you doing? » Sister Rufa did not reply immediately: first she asked for a buyo, chewed it,
12552.656 looked at her audience who were listening attentively, spat to one side, and began while chewing tobacco:
12559.336 « I don’t waste a single holy day! Since I have belonged to the Sisterhood, I have won 457 plenary indulgences, 760,598 years of
12571.296 indulgences. » I write down all the ones I win, because I like to keep clean accounts; I don’t want to cheat, nor be cheated.
12578.296 Sister Rufa paused and continued chewing; the women
12584.096 looked at her with admiration, but the man who was strolling by stopped and said a little disdainfully:
12589.456 « Well, this year alone, I’ve won four more plenaries than you,
12594.736 Sister Rufa, and a hundred more years, and that’s even though I haven’t prayed much this year.
12600.536  » « More than me? More than 689 plenaries out of 994,856 years? » repeated Sister
12610.496 Rufa, somewhat annoyed. « That’s right, eight more plenaries and a hundred and fifteen more years, and in just a few
12617.056 months, » repeated the man, around whose neck hung dirty scapulars and rosaries.
12622.576 « No wonder, » said Rufa, giving up; « you are the master
12627.976 and the leader in the province!  » He smiled flatteringly. « It’s no wonder I earn more than you, indeed; I can almost
12635.576 say that even in my sleep I gain indulgences.  » « And what do you do with them, Master? » four or five voices asked
12642.376 at once. « Psh! » the man replied, making a grimace of supreme contempt;
12648.096 « I throw them here and there!  » « Well, I can’t praise you for that, Master! » protested La
12654.736 Rufa. « You’ll go to purgatory for wasting indulgences! You know that for every useless word, you suffer forty days of fire, according to
12662.656 the priest; for every hand’s breadth of thread, sixty; for every drop of water, twenty. You’re going to purgatory!
12669.416  » « I’ll know how to get out of it! » Brother Pedro answered with sublime confidence . « I’ve pulled so many souls out of the fire! I’ve made so many saints! » And
12678.232 besides, in articulo mortis I can still earn, if I wish, at least seven plenary sessions, and I will be able to save others by dying!
12685.792 And with that, he proudly walked away. « However, you should do what I do, for I never waste a day and I keep
12693.312 my accounts well. I don’t want to cheat or be cheated!  » « What are you doing? » asked Joan.
12698.752 « Well, you should imitate what I do. For example: suppose I earn a year of indulgences, I write it down in my notebook and say: Blessed
12708.432 Father, Lord Saint Dominic, please see if there is anyone in purgatory who needs exactly one year, not one day more or
12716.832 one day less. » I toss heads or tails; if heads, no; if tails, yes. Well, suppose tails, then I write: Collected; if
12725.552 heads? then I retain the indulgence, and in this way I make little groups of one hundred years that I have carefully noted. It’s a shame you can’t do with them
12733.392 what you can with money: give them at interest; more souls could be saved. Believe me, do what I do.
12740.632 « Well, I do something better! » Sister Sipa replied. « What? Better? » asked Rufa, surprised. « It can’t be! What
12750.712 I do is unbeatable!  » « Listen for a moment and you’ll see, sister! » replied old Sipa
12757.112 in a sour tone. « Let’s see, let’s see! Let’s hear it! » said the others.
12762.672 After coughing ceremoniously, the old woman spoke in this way: « You know very well that by praying the Blessed be your Purity, and
12771.072 the Lord Jesus Christ, my Father most sweet for joy, you gain ten years for each letter…
12776.992  » « Twenty! » « No, less! » « Five! » said several voices. « One more, one less, it doesn’t matter! Now; when a servant or a
12786.552 maid breaks a plate, glass, or cup, etc. , I make him pick up all the pieces, and for each one, even the smallest, he has to pray to me,
12796.128 Blessed be your Purity and My Lord Jesus Christ, Father most sweet for joy, and the indulgences I gain I dedicate to souls.
12805.728 Everyone at home knows this, except the cats. « But these indulgences are earned by the maids, not you, Sister
12812.968 Sipa, » objects Rufa. « And who pays for my cups and plates? They are happy
12819.568 to pay for them this way, and so am I; I don’t hit them, just the occasional smack or pinch…
12825.328  » « I’ll imitate you! » « I’ll do the same! » « And me! » the women said. « But if the plate has only been broken into two or three pieces,
12833.328 you earn little! » still stubborn Rufa observes. « Bah! » replies old Sipa, « I make them pray too, I strain
12841.408 the pieces, and we lose nothing.  » Sister Rufa no longer knew what to object. « Allow me to submit a doubt to you, » says young
12849.008 Juana timidly. « You ladies understand these things of heaven,
12854.168 purgatory, and hell so well… I confess I am ignorant.  » « Speak! » I often find this instruction in novenas and other books:
12864.288 Three Our Fathers, three Hail Marys, and three Glorias…
12869.888  » « Well? » « Well, I wanted to know how to pray them; or three Our Fathers in a row, three Hail Marys in a row, and three Glorias in a row,
12879.808 or three times, one Our Father, one Hail Mary, and one Gloria? » « Well, that’s right, three times an Our Father…
12886.968  » « Forgive me, Sister Sipa! » interrupts Rufa; « they should be prayed the other way around: males shouldn’t be mixed with females:
12896.008 Our Fathers are male, Hail Marys are female, and Glorias are children.
12901.608  » « Hey! Forgive me, Sister Rufa; Our Father, Hail Mary, and Gloria are
12906.968 like rice, meat, and sauce, a morsel from the saints…  » « You’re wrong! Just see, you who pray like that
12916.248 never get what you ask for.  » « And because you pray like that, you get nothing from your
12921.352 novenas! » replies old Sipa. « Who? » says Rufa, standing up; « recently I lost a little pig, I prayed
12928.352 to Saint Anthony, and I found it, and so much so that I sold it for a good price…  » « Yes? » « That’s why your neighbor said you sold one of her piglets!
12937.592  » « Who? The scoundrel! Am I like you? » The teacher had to intervene to make peace: no one remembered
12946.432 the Our Fathers anymore; all they talked about was pigs. « Come on, come on, there’s no need to quarrel over a piglet, sisters! The
12954.192 Holy Scriptures give us an example: heretics and Protestants have not scolded Our Lord Jesus Christ, who threw a herd of
12963.672 pigs that belonged to them into the water, and we, who are Christians and also
12969.432 Brothers of the Most Holy Rosary, should we quarrel over a piglet? What would our rivals, the Third Brothers, say about us? »
12977.912 They all fell silent, admiring the profound wisdom of the teacher and fearing what the Third Brothers would say. The former, satisfied with
12985.752 such obedience, changed his tone and continued: « The priest will soon call us. » We must tell him which preacher
12993.192 we should choose from the three he proposed yesterday: Father Dámaso, Father
12998.512 Martín, or the assistant priest. I don’t know if they’ve already chosen the Thirds; it’s necessary to decide.
13004.312 « The assistant priest… » Juana murmurs timidly. « Hmm! The assistant priest doesn’t know how to preach! » says Sipa; « Father Martín is better
13011.192 .  » « Father Martín? » another exclaims disdainfully; « he has no voice: better
13017.192 It’s Father Dámaso. « That’s him, that’s the one! » exclaimed Rufa. « Father Dámaso sure knows how
13023.912 to preach! He sounds like a comedian!  » « But we can’t understand him! » murmured Juana.
13029.352 « Because he’s very profound! And as long as he preaches well… » At this point, Sisa arrived, carrying a basket on her head, said good
13038.472 morning to the women, and went upstairs. « That one’s coming up! Let’s go up too! » they said.
13044.024 Sisa felt her heart beating violently as she went upstairs : she didn’t know what she was going to say to the father to calm his anger
13053.344 or what reasons she was going to give him to defend her son. That morning, at the first light of dawn, she had gone down to the garden to
13061.624 pick her most beautiful vegetables, which she placed in a basket among the banana leaves and flowers. She went to the riverbank to look for pako [72], which
13071.144 she knew the priest liked to eat in salad. She dressed in her best clothes, and with the basket on her head, without waking her son, she left for
13080.104 the village. Trying to make as little noise as possible, she climbed the stairs slowly, listening attentively in case she heard a familiar,
13088.704 fresh, childish voice. But she didn’t hear anyone, and she went to the kitchen.
13094.464 There she looked in every corner: servants and sacristans received her
13100.704 coldly. She greeted them and they barely answered. « Where can I leave these vegetables? » she asked, not seeming offended.
13107.504 « There… anywhere! » the cook replied , barely looking at them, intent on his task: he was plucking a capon.
13115.144 Sisa arranged the eggplants, bittersweet mushrooms, patolas, zarzalida, and tender bunches of pako
13124.784 [73] in order on the table. Then she put the flowers on top, half smiled, and asked a servant, who seemed more sociable than the cook:
13133.584 « May I speak to the priest?  » « He’s sick, » the latter answered in a low voice. « And Crispín? Do you know if he’s in the vestry?  »
13141.264 The servant looked at her in surprise. « Crispín? » he asked, frowning. « Isn’t he at your
13147.024 house? Do you want to deny it?  » « Basilio is at home, but Crispín has stayed here, » replied
13152.624 Sisa; « I want to see him…  » « Yes! » said the servant; « he stayed, but then… then he ran away,
13159.664 stealing many things. The priest sent me early this morning to the barracks to inform the Civil Guard. They must have already gone to
13168.6 your house to look for the boys.  » Sisa covered her ears, opened her mouth, but her lips moved
13176.2 in vain: not a sound came out. « What children you have! » added the cook. « You are known
13182.32 to be a faithful wife: the children have turned out just like their father! Be careful , the little one will surpass him!
13189.84  » Sisa burst into bitter tears, sinking down on a bench. « Don’t cry here! » cried the cook. « Don’t you know that the father
13198.96 is ill? Go and weep in the street. » The poor woman almost pushed herself down the stairs, at the same
13206.08 time as the sisters, who were murmuring and conjecturing about the priest’s illness.
13212.56 The unfortunate mother hid her face with her handkerchief and suppressed her tears. When she reached the street, she looked around uncertainly, and then, as
13221.72 if she had made up her mind, she quickly walked away. Chapter 19.
13227.56 ADVENTURES OF A SCHOOLMASTER The common people are foolish, and since they pay for it, it is right To speak to them in foolish ways to please them.
13234.36 (Lope de Vega). The lake, surrounded by its mountains, sleeps peacefully with the hypocrisy
13241.28 of the elements, as if the previous night had not joined in the chorus of the storm. At the first reflections of light, which awaken the
13249.24 phosphorescent spirits in the waters, brownish silhouettes are drawn in the distance, almost at the edge
13254.36 of the horizon: they are the benches of the fishermen who are collecting their nets; helmets and paraos [74] who stretch their sails.
13264.36 Two men, dressed in strict mourning, silently contemplate the
13269.56 water from a height: one of them is Ibarra and the other is a young man of humble appearance and melancholic physiognomy.
13276.584 « This is it! » said the latter; « this is where the corpse of his father was thrown. » Father. Here the gravedigger led Lieutenant Guevara and me!
13285.504 Ibarra shook the young man’s hand effusively. « You don’t have to thank me! » the latter replied. « I owed
13293.384 your father many favors, and the only one I did was accompany him to the grave. He had
13298.504 come without knowing anyone, without recommendations, without a name, without fortune, as he is now. My predecessor had abandoned school to
13307.264 dedicate himself to selling tobacco. Your father protected me, found me
13313.024 a house, and provided me with whatever I might need for the advancement of my education. He went to school and distributed a few coins to the
13320.544 poor and diligent boys, providing them with books and papers. But this, like all good things, lasted very little!
13327.744 Ibarra uncovered his head and seemed to pray for a long time. Then he turned to his companion and said:
13333.544 « You said that my father helped the poor boys. And now? » « Now they do their best and write when they can, » the young man replied.
13342.544 « Why?  » « The cause is in their personae, their shirts, and their ashamed eyes.  » Ibarra remained silent.
13348.304 « How many students do you have now? » he asked with some interest. « More than two hundred on the roll, and in the twenty-fifth class.
13355.304  » « How is that? » The schoolmaster smiled melancholically and exclaimed:
13362.024 « To tell you the reasons is to tell you a long and tedious story.  » « Do not attribute my question to idle curiosity, »
13369.984 Ibarra replied gravely, looking at the distant horizon. « I have reflected more deeply, and I believe that realizing my father’s thoughts is worth more than
13379.904 mourning him, much more than avenging him. His tomb is sacred Nature, and his enemies have been the people and a priest: I forgive the former
13388.224 for his ignorance, and I respect the latter for his character, and because I want the religion that educated society to be respected. » I wish
13396.224 to be inspired by the spirit of the One who gave me life, and for this reason I would like to know the obstacles that teaching encounters here.
13404.544 « The country, » said the teacher, « will bless your memory if you fulfill the beautiful intentions of your late father. Do you wish
13413.064 to know the obstacles that teaching encounters? Well, in the circumstances in which we find ourselves, without a powerful support, teaching
13421.344 will never be a reality; first, because in childhood there is no incentive or stimulus, and second, because even if there were, they are killed by a
13430.064 lack of means and many worries. They say that in Germany the child of a peasant studies eight years in the village school;
13437.624 who would want to spend half that time here, when such meager fruits are reaped? They read, write, and memorize passages and
13446.944 sometimes entire books in Spanish, without understanding a word of them. What use does the child of our villagers get from school?
13455.784  » « And you, who sees the evil, why haven’t you thought of remedying it? » « Alas! » he replied, shaking his head sadly. « A poor
13462.624 teacher, alone, cannot fight against worries, against certain influences. Above all, he would need a school, a place,
13471.224 and not like now, where I teach next to the priest’s carriage, beneath the convent. There, the children who like to read aloud
13479.784 naturally annoy the priest, who sometimes comes down agitated, especially when he has his fits. He shouts at them and sometimes insults me
13489.464 . You will understand that this is neither how to teach nor how to learn; the child does not respect the teacher from the moment he sees him mistreated
13499.008 without asserting his rights. The teacher, to be heard, to have his authority not questioned, needs prestige,
13506.488 a good name, moral strength, a certain freedom, and allow me
13512.688 to tell you about the sad details. I have tried to introduce reforms, and they have laughed at me.  » To remedy this evil I was speaking of, I tried
13520.768 to teach the children Spanish, because not only was it mandated by the Government, but I judged it would also be advantageous to everyone. I used
13529.528 the simplest method, using phrases and nouns, without resorting to complicated
13534.728 rules, hoping to teach them grammar when they already understood the language. After a few weeks, the cleverest ones almost understood me.
13543.768 and they were composing a few sentences. The teacher paused and seemed to hesitate; then, as if he had
13550.328 made up his mind, he continued: « I mustn’t be ashamed of the story of my grievances; anyone in
13556.448 my place would have behaved the same. As I said, I was starting out well; but a few days later, Father Dámaso, the priest at the time,
13566.288 had the head sacristan summon me. Since I knew his character and was afraid to keep him waiting, I went up immediately, greeted him, and said good
13575.368 morning in Spanish. He, who, by way of greeting, extended his hand for me to kiss, withdrew it and, without answering, began to laugh
13585.008 uproariously, mockingly. I was disconcerted;
13590.328 the head sacristan was standing before me. At first, I didn’t know what to say; I stared at him, but he continued laughing. I was already growing impatient and saw that I was about to commit
13599.088 an imprudence, since being a good Christian and being worthy at the same time are not incompatible things. »
13605.336 I was about to ask him a question when, suddenly, passing from laughter to insult, he said sarcastically,  »
13612.536 Good morning, what? Good morning! Funny! Now you know how to speak Spanish! » And he continued laughing.
13618.736 Ibarra couldn’t suppress a smile. « You’re laughing, » replied the teacher, laughing too; « I confess that
13625.896 at the time I didn’t feel like laughing. I was standing; I felt the blood rush to my head, and a flash of lightning darkened my brain.
13633.896 I saw the priest far away, very far away; I went up to him to reply, not knowing
13639.056 what I was going to say. The head sexton intervened; he stood up and
13644.096 said to me seriously in Tagalog: « Don’t use borrowed clothes; be content to speak your own language and don’t spoil my Spanish, for it’s not for
13652.176 you. » Do you know Teacher Ciruela? Well, Ciruela was a teacher who
13657.336 couldn’t read and who ran a school. I wanted to stop him, but he went into his room and slammed the door shut. What could I do? I
13666.896 barely had enough to live on my salary, and to collect it I needed the
13672.976 priest’s approval and a trip to the provincial capital. What could I do against him, the highest moral, political, and
13680.016 civil authority in a town, supported by its Corporation, feared by the government, rich, powerful, consulted, listened to, believed, and heeded by
13690.136 all? If he insults me, I must remain silent. If I reply, I will be thrown out of my position, losing my career forever. And I wouldn’t win the
13699.336 teaching job for that. On the contrary, everyone would side with the priest, they would abhor me and call me vain, proud, arrogant, a bad Christian,
13709.456 ill-mannered, and, if not, an anti-Spanish and a filibuster. No knowledge or zeal is expected from a schoolteacher; All that is asked of you is resignation,
13719.12 humiliation, inertia, and God forgive me if I have renounced my conscience
13724.32 and reason, but I was born in this country, I have to live, I have a
13729.96 mother, and I abandon myself to my fate like a corpse dragged by the wave. « And because of this obstacle, you have become forever discouraged? And is this how
13737.2 you have lived since?  » « I wish I had learned my lesson! » he replied;  »
13743.6 my misfortunes would have been limited to that! It is true that from then on I developed an aversion to my career; I thought of looking for another trade like my predecessor, because
13752.28 work, when done reluctantly and with shame, is a martyrdom,
13757.4 and because school reminded me every day of my disgrace, making me spend
13762.48 very bitter hours. But what could I do? I could not disabuse my mother; I had to tell her that her three years of sacrifice to give me this
13772.32 career now make me happy; It is necessary to make him believe that the
13777.4 profession is most honorable, the work delightful, the path strewn with flowers; that the fulfillment of my duty only brings me friendships; that
13785.68 the people respect me and shower me with consideration; otherwise, without ceasing to be unhappy, I would commit another unfortunate act, which besides
13794.68 being useless is a sin. I remained at my post and did not want to lose heart: I tried to fight.
13801.56 The schoolmaster paused briefly and then continued: « From the day I was so grossly insulted, I examined
13810.16 myself and found myself very ignorant indeed. I began to study Spanish day and night and everything related to my career;
13819.68 An old philosopher lent me some books, I read everything I could find, and analyzed everything I read. With the new ideas
13828.72 I acquired from one side and the other, my point of view changed, and I saw many things in a different light than before.
13835.448 I saw errors where before I saw only truths, and truths in many things that seemed to me to be
13840.928 errors. Spanking, for example, which from time immemorial had been the hallmark of schools, and which formerly was considered the only
13849.608 effective means of teaching—so we had been accustomed to believe— later seemed to me that, far from contributing to the child’s progress,
13858.368 it rendered him considerably useless. I became convinced that it was impossible to reason with the cane or the disciplines in plain sight; fear
13867.728 and terror disturb even the calmest person, and besides, a child’s imagination is more vivid and more impressionable. And since, for
13876.328 ideas to be imprinted in the brain, it is necessary for there to be calm, both externally
13881.408 and internally, serenity of spirit, material and moral tranquility, and good cheer, I believed that above all I should instill
13889.248 in children confidence, security, and self-esteem. I
13894.288 also understood that the daily spectacle of whipping killed compassion in the heart and extinguished that flame of dignity, the lever of the world,
13903.928 losing with it the shame that now only rarely returns. I have also observed that when someone is whipped, they find consolation in
13912.528 seeing others whipped in turn, and smile with satisfaction upon hearing the cries of others. And the one in charge of whipping, although they obey
13923.008 the first day with reluctance, later grows accustomed to it and finds delight in their sad mission. The past horrified me; I wanted to save
13933.048 the present by modifying the old system. I tried to make studying pleasant and cheerful. I wanted to make the primer not the
13942.728 tear-soaked, black-faced little book of childhood, but a friend who will reveal marvelous secrets; I wanted to make the school not a place of sorrow, but a
13952.928 place of intellectual recreation. So, little by little, I eliminated the spanking, brought the discipline home, and replaced it with emulation and
13961.088 self-esteem. If a lesson was neglected, I attributed it to a lack of will, never to a lack of ability. I made them believe
13970.368 they had better dispositions than they actually had, and this belief, which I sought to confirm, compelled them to study,
13979.688 just as confidence leads to heroism. At first, it seemed that changing the method was impractical: many stopped studying;
13989.008 but I continued and noticed that little by little, spirits were lifted, more children attended, and more frequently; and whoever was once praised
13999.288 in front of everyone, learned twice as much the next day. It soon spread throughout the town that I didn’t hit; the priest summoned me,
14007.168 and fearing another scene, I greeted him curtly in Tagalog. This time he was very serious with me. He told me that I was spoiling the children,
14016.128 that I was wasting my time, that I wasn’t doing my duty, that a father who forgave the beating hated his son, according to the Holy Spirit,
14025.448 that a letter enters with blood, etc., etc.; he brought me a number of sayings from barbarian times, as if it were enough for something to have been
14033.568 said by the ancients to be indisputable; according to this, we should
14039.848 believe that the monsters those ages created and sculpted in their palaces and cathedrals really existed . In short, he
14048.648 recommended that I be diligent and return to the old system, otherwise he would report me to the mayor. My
14055.288 misfortune did not end there: days later, the boys’ parents appeared outside the convent
14060.328 , and I had to summon all my patience and resignation to my aid. They began by praising me for the old days
14068.568 when teachers had character and taught as their grandparents had taught. « Those were truly wise! » they said; those who glued
14077.896 and straightened the crooked tree. Those were not young, they were old men of much experience, gray-haired and severe! Don Catalino, the king of
14086.896 them all and founder of that school, never gave less than twenty-five. sticks, and that’s why he produced wise sons and priests. Ah! The ancients
14096.736 were worth more than us, yes, sir, more than us. Others were not content with these crude hints; they told me plainly that
14106.296 if I followed my system, their children would learn nothing and that they would be
14111.656 forced to withdraw from school. It was useless to reason with them: as a young man, they didn’t give much credit to me. What I would have given to
14120.016 have gray hair! They quoted the authority of the priest, of So-and-so, of So-and-so, and they quoted themselves, saying that if it hadn’t been for
14129.216 the floggings of their teachers, they would have learned nothing. The sympathy shown me by some people somewhat sweetened the bitterness of
14137.256 this disappointment. In view of this, I had to renounce a system which, after much labor, was beginning to bear fruit. In despair, I took
14146.496 the floggings to school the next day and began my barbaric task anew . Serenity disappeared and sadness returned to the
14155.376 faces of the children, who were already beginning to love me: they were my only acquaintances, my only friends. Although I tried to spare the spankings
14164.696 and administer them as leniently as possible, the children nevertheless felt deeply hurt, demeaned, and wept bitterly. This
14173.696 touched my heart, and although I was inwardly irritated with their stupid families, I couldn’t take revenge on those innocent victims of
14182.296 their parents’ worries. Their tears burned me; my heart
14187.456 was sore in my chest, and that day I left class before time
14192.776 and went home to cry alone… Perhaps you find my sensitivity strange, but if you were in my place, you would understand.
14201.864 Old Don Anastasio said to me: « Do parents ask for spankings? Why didn’t you give them one? » As a result, I fell ill.
14210.464 Ibarra listened thoughtfully. –As soon as I recovered, I returned to school and found my students
14217.664 reduced to a fifth. The best had deserted with the return of the old system, and of those who remained, a few who had gone to
14226.784 school to escape domestic labor, none expressed joy, none congratulated me on my recovery. It was all the same to them whether
14234.904 I recovered or not; perhaps they would have preferred that I had remained ill, because the substitute, although he was more effective, rarely went to
14244.184 class. My other students, those whose parents managed to force to go to school, went off on excursions elsewhere. They blamed me for having
14254.064 spoiled them and showered me with recriminations. One, however, the son of a peasant woman who visited me during my illness, did not return because
14261.664 he had become a sexton. The head sexton says that sextons should not attend school: they would debase themselves.
14269.624 « And did you resign yourself to your new students? » Ibarra asked. « Could you have done anything else? » he replied. « However, since
14279.064 many things had happened during my illness, we changed priests. I conceived a new hope and tried to introduce another test so that the children
14285.824 wouldn’t waste their time completely and would make the most of their whipping; that at least those shameful acts would bear some
14292.824 fruit for them, I thought. I wanted to ensure, since they couldn’t love me now, that at least by preserving something useful from me, they would remember me later with less
14301.664 bitterness. You already know that in most schools the books are in Spanish, with the exception of the Tagalog Catechism, which
14311.232 varies according to the religious group to which the priest belongs. These
14316.272 books are usually novenas, trisagions, and Father Astete’s catechism, from which they derive as much pity as from the books of heretics. » Since
14324.992 it was impossible to teach them Spanish or translate so many books, I have tried to replace them little by little with short excerpts
14333.352 taken from useful Tagalog works, such as the Treatise on Urbanity by Hortensio y Feliza, some small agricultural manuals, etc., etc.
14343.312 Sometimes I myself translated small works such as the History of the Philippines by Father Barranera and dictated them afterwards, so that they could compile them in
14351.352 notebooks, sometimes adding to them with their own observations. Since I had no maps to teach them Geography, I copied one of the province that
14360.192 I saw it in the chancel, and with this reproduction and the floor tiles, I gave them some ideas of the country. This time it was the women who got
14368.392 excited; the men contented themselves with smiling, seeing in it one of my follies. The new priest called me, and although he didn’t
14376.632 reprimand me, he told me that I should first take care of religion, and that before teaching these things, the children should prove in an examination
14384.912 that they know the Mysteries, the Trisagion, and the Catechism
14390.632 of Christian Doctrine by heart. In the meantime, then, I’m working to make the children become
14396.272 parrots and be able to memorize so many things of which they don’t understand a single word. Many already know the Mysteries
14404.152 and the Trisagion, but I’m afraid my efforts won’t come to nothing with Father Astete, since most of my students still don’t distinguish
14413.152 very well between questions and answers and what the two can mean. And so we shall die, and so shall those yet to be born, and in
14422.096 Europe there will be talk of Progress! « Let us not be so pessimistic! » replied Ibarra, rising. « The
14427.816 chief lieutenant has sent me an invitation to attend a meeting at the tribunal… Who knows if you will have an answer to
14436.016 your questions there? » The maestro also rose, but shaking his head in a sign of doubt, replied:
14441.976 « You’ll see how that project they told me about remains like mine! And if not, let’s see it! »
14448.856 Chapter 20. THE MEETING AT THE TRIBUNAL [75] It was a room twelve to fifteen meters long by eight to ten
14457.696 wide. Its walls, whitewashed, were covered with charcoal drawings, more or less ugly, more or less indecent, with inscriptions that
14467.616 completed their meaning. In a corner, neatly placed against the wall, were about ten old flintlock rifles among the rusty sabers,
14476.376 rapiers, and talibones: this was the armament of the squadrons [76].
14481.936 At one end of the room, adorned with dirty red curtains, hung a portrait of His Majesty; beneath the portrait,
14491.416 on a wooden platform, an old armchair spread its tattered arms; in front of it, a large wooden table, stained with ink, pitted
14500.976 , and carved with inscriptions and monograms, like many tables in German taverns frequented by students.
14508.816 Rickety benches and chairs completed the furnishings. This is the session room, the tribunal, the torture room, etc. Here
14516.256 the authorities of the town and the neighborhoods now converse: the party
14522.736 of the old does not mix with that of the young, and the two cannot
14527.816 tolerate each other: they represent the conservative and liberal parties, only their struggles take on an extreme character in the towns.
14536.392 « The Gobernadorcillo’s conduct is alarming to me! » said Don Filipo, the
14541.632 leader of the Liberal party, to his friends. « He has a preconceived plan to leave the discussion of the budget until the last minute. Note
14549.992 that we have barely eleven days left.  » « And he has stayed at the convent conferring with the priest who is
14557.072 ill! » observed one of the young men. « It doesn’t matter! » replied another; « we have everything already prepared. As long as
14564.272 the old men’s project doesn’t obtain a majority…  » « I don’t believe it! » said Don Filipo. « I will present the
14571.432 old men ‘s project .  » « What? What are you saying? » asked his surprised listeners.
14576.672 « I say that if I speak first, I will present our enemies’ project .  » « And ours?  » « You will take care of presenting it, » replied the lieutenant, smiling
14584.952 , and addressing a young cabeza de barangay [77]; « You will speak after
14590.312 I have been defeated.  » “We don’t understand you, sir!” said his interlocutors, looking at him
14596.392 full of doubt. “Listen!” said Don Filipo in a low voice to two or three others who
14601.992 were listening. “This morning I met with old Tasio. ” “So what? ” The old man said to me: “Your enemies hate you more than
14611.192 your ideas. Do you want something not to be done? Well, propose it, and even if it were more useful than a mitre, it will be rejected. Once
14619.792 « Have you defeated, make the most modest of all explain what you wanted , and your enemies, to humiliate you, will approve it.
14628.712 But keep it a secret.  » « But… » « That’s why I will propose the project of our enemies, exaggerating it
14635.192 to the point of ridicule. » « Silence! Señor Ibarra and the schoolmaster! »
14640.992 Both young men greeted one group or another without taking part in their conversations. A few moments later, the little governor entered with a displeased face:
14650.112 it was the same one we saw yesterday carrying an arroba of candles. Upon his entrance , the murmurs ceased, everyone took a seat, and little by little
14658.64 silence reigned. The captain [78] sat down in the armchair placed under His
14664.48 Majesty’s portrait, coughed four or five times, passed his hands over his head and face, placed his elbows on the table, removed them, coughed again,
14673.56 and so on. « Gentlemen! » he finally replied in a faint voice, « I have dared
14680.04 to call you all together for this meeting… ahem! ahem!… we have to celebrate the feast of our patron saint, Saint Diego, on the 12th of this
14687.84 month… ahem! ahem! Today we are two apart… ahem! ahem! »
14693.36 And here a slow, dry cough attacked him, which reduced him to silence. Then a man of about forty , with an arrogant appearance,
14700.76 rose from the old people’s bench . He was the wealthy Captain Basilio, the opposite
14705.84 of the late Don Rafael, a man who claimed that since the death of Saint Thomas Aquinas the world had not taken a step forward,
14714.8 and that since he left San Juan de Letrán, humanity had begun to regress. « Allow me, Your Graces. » to speak on such an
14723.44 interesting matter, » he said. « I will speak first, although others present here have more rights than I, but I speak first
14732.28 because it seems to me that in these matters, speaking first does not mean being first, just as speaking last does not mean
14741.36 being last. Furthermore, the things I will have to say are of such importance that they are not to be left or said last, and
14750.96 that is why I would like to speak first to give them their proper tone. Your Graces will therefore allow
14757.192 me to speak first in this meeting, where I see very notable people such as the current captain; the past captain,
14766.032 my distinguished friend Don Valentín; the past captain, my childhood friend Don Julio; our celebrated captain of the squad, Don
14775.432 Melchor, and many other lordships, whom I do not wish to mention for the sake of brevity , that Your Graces see here present. I beg Your Graces to
14786.552 allow me to speak before anyone else speaks.  » Would I be fortunate enough to have the Junta grant my humble request?
14794.712 And the orator bowed respectfully, smiling. « Now you may speak, for we are eagerly listening! » said the
14801.632 aforementioned friends and other people who considered him a great orator. The old people coughed with satisfaction and rubbed their hands together.
14809.152 Captain Basilio, after wiping the sweat from his face with his silk handkerchief, continued:
14815.232 « Since Your Excellencies have been so kind and so accommodating to my humble person, granting me the right to speak before
14824.272 anyone else present here, I will take advantage of this permission, so generously granted, and I am going to speak. » I imagine with
14831.792 my mind that I find myself in the midst of the highly respected Roman Senate, senatus populusque romanus as we called it in those beautiful
14840.512 times, which fatally for humanity will never return, and I will ask the patres conscripti, as the wise Cicero would say, if he were in my
14850.552 place, I will ask, since we are short of time, and time is money as Solomon said, that on this important matter each one express their
14859.112 opinion clearly, briefly, and simply. I have said. And satisfied with himself and with the attention of the room, the orator
14867.528 sat down not without giving Ibarra, who was sitting in a corner, a superior look , and another very meaningful one to his friends as if
14876.168 to say: Ah! Did I speak well? Ah! His friends also reflected both looks, turning toward the
14884.368 young men as if to kill them with envy. « Now whoever wishes may speak, ahem! » replied the little governor,
14891.168 unable to finish his sentence… which was interrupted by coughing and sighs. Judging by the silence, no one wanted to be called one of the
14899.608 patres conscripti; no one stood up: then Don Filipo seized the opportunity and asked to speak.
14906.208 The conservatives winked and made meaningful signs to each other. « I am going to present my budget, gentlemen, for the festival, » said
14915.888 Don Filipo. « We cannot accept it! » replied an old consumptive, an
14922.408 intransigent conservative. « We vote against it! » said the other adversaries. « Gentlemen! » said Don Filipo, suppressing a smile; « I have not yet
14930.968 presented the project that we young people have brought here. We are sure that this great project will be preferred by all to the
14938.608 one that our adversaries devise or may devise. » This presumptuous introduction only irritated the
14945.368 conservatives, who swore to oppose him in corde. Don Filipo continued:
14951.088 « We have a budget of 3,500 pesos. Well then, with this amount
14956.648 we can celebrate a festival that will eclipse in magnificence all those seen up to now, both in our province and in the neighboring ones.
14962.848  » « Hum! » exclaimed the incredulous; « Town A. had 5,000, Town
14967.928 B. 4,000, hum! A hamburger stand! » [79] « Listen to me, gentlemen, and you will be convinced! » continued Don Filipo,
14975.768 unperturbed. « I propose that a large theater be built in the middle of the plaza, costing 150 pesos!
14981.824  » « 150 is not enough, we have to put in 160! » objected a tenacious conservative.
14987.184 « Write down, Mr. Director, 200 pesos for the theater! » said Don Filipo. « I propose that the Tondo comedy be contracted
14996.144 for seven consecutive nights. Seven performances at 200 pesos a night
15001.304 make 1,400: write down 1,400, Mr. Director! »
15006.584 Old and young alike looked at each other in surprise; only those who were in on the secret didn’t budge.
15012.584 « I also propose huge fireworks; no little lights or little wheels that children and single women like; none of that. We
15022.384 want huge bombs and colossal rockets. So I propose 200 huge bombs at two pesos each, and 200 rockets at the same price. We’ll order them
15032.304 from the castle-keepers at Malabón.  » « Hmm! » interrupted an old man: « a two-peso bomb doesn’t scare me
15039.184 or make me deaf; it has to be three pesos. » « Set aside 1,000 pesos for 200 bombs and 200 rockets! »
15045.144 The conservatives could no longer contain themselves; some stood up and conferred among themselves.
15050.904 « Furthermore, so that our neighbors can see that we are splendid people and have money to spare, » continued Don Filipo, raising his voice and casting a
15060.904 quick glance at the group of old men, « I propose: 1. Four older brothers for the two days of the festival, and 2. That each day
15071.384 200 fried hens, 100 stuffed capons, and 50 suckling pigs be thrown into the lake,
15076.864 as did Sulla, a contemporary of that Cicero, of whom Capt. Basilio just spoke.
15082.704  » « That’s right, like Sulla! » repeated Capt. Basilio, flattered. The astonishment increased by degrees.
15088.584 –Since so many rich people are coming, and each one is bringing thousands and thousands of pesos, their best roosters, and the liam-pó [80] and cards, I propose
15099.704 two weeks of cockfighting, and freedom to open all the gambling houses… But the young men interrupted him, standing up; they thought the lieutenant
15108.472 -chief had gone mad. The old men were arguing heatedly. –And finally, so as not to neglect the pleasures of the soul…
15116.952 The murmurs and shouts that arose from all corners of the room completely drowned out his voice: it was now nothing more than
15124.952 a tumult. –No!–shouted an intransigent conservative;–I don’t want anyone to boast about having thrown a party, no! Let me, let me speak!
15133.472 –Don Filipo has deceived us!–said the liberals. We’ll vote against it! He’s gone over to the old men! Let’s vote against it!
15141.592 The little governor, more dejected than ever, did nothing to restore order: he waited for them to do so.
15149.432 The captain of the squad asked to speak; they gave it to him, but He didn’t open his mouth and sat back down, confused and embarrassed.
15157.032 Fortunately, Captain Valentín, the most moderate of all the conservatives, stood up and spoke:
15163.992 « We cannot accept what the lieutenant-chief has proposed, because it seems exaggerated to us. So many bombs and so many nights of comedy
15172.272 could only be desired by a young man, like the lieutenant-chief, who can spend many sleepless nights and hear many explosions without going deaf. I have
15180.512 consulted the opinions of sensible people, and they all unanimously disapprove of Don Filipo’s project. Isn’t that it, gentlemen?
15188.352  » « Yes! Yes! » said young and old alike in unison. The young were
15193.672 delighted to hear an old man speak like this. « What are we going to do with four older brothers? » continued
15200.792 the old man. « What do these chickens, capons, and piglets thrown into the lake mean? ‘Hamburgue!’ our neighbors will say, and then
15210.112 we’ll fast for half a year. » What do we have to do with Sulla or the Romans? Have they ever invited us to their festivals? I, at
15218.888 least, have never received a single note from them, and beware, I’m already old!
15224.568 « The Romans live in Rome, where the Pope is! » Captain Basilio muttered to him under his breath.
15230.128 « Now I understand! » the old man exclaimed, unperturbed. « They would celebrate their festivals during the vigil, and the Pope would order the food to be thrown into the sea
15238.848 so as not to commit a sin. But, in any case, your festival project is inadmissible, impossible, it’s madness! »
15247.448 Don Filipo, bitterly opposed, had to withdraw his proposal.
15252.528 The most intransigent conservatives, satisfied with the defeat of their greatest enemy, watched without concern as a young cabeza
15260.808 de barangay stood up and asked to speak. « I ask Your Majesty. » Excuse me, if, young as I am, I dare to speak
15270.208 before so many highly respected persons, both for their age and for the prudence and discernment with which they judge all matters
15278.328 ; but since the eloquent orator, Capt. Basil, has invited
15284.088 everyone to express their opinions here, let his authoritative words serve as
15289.128 an excuse for the smallness of my person. The conservatives shook their heads in satisfaction.
15295.488 “This young man speaks well!” “He is modest!” “He reasons admirably!” they said to one another.
15301.848 “It’s a pity he can’t gesticulate well!” observed Capt. Basil. “But
15307.048 you see! He hasn’t studied Cicero, and he’s still very young. ” “If I present to you, gentlemen, a program or project,” continued the
15315.288 young man, “I do not do so with the thought that you will find it perfect, nor accept it; I want, while once again submitting myself
15325.368 to the will of everyone, to prove to the elders that we always think like them, since we embrace all the ideas so
15332.688 elegantly expressed by Captain Basilio. « Well said, well said! » said the flattered conservatives.
15341.168 Captain Basilio signaled to the young man how he should move his arm and place his foot. The only one who remained impassive was the
15348.888 little governor, distracted or preoccupied: both, he seemed. The
15354.128 young man continued, gaining courage: « My project, gentlemen, boils down to the following: to invent new
15361.328 spectacles that are not the ordinary and common ones we see every day,
15367.048 and to ensure that the money collected does not leave the town, nor is wasted in vain on gunpowder, but is used for something useful
15374.888 to everyone.
 » « That’s it! That’s it! » the young men agreed; « that’s what we want.
15380.648  » « Very well! » added the old men. –What do we gain from a week of comedies that the lieutenant-
15386.968 chief requests? What do we learn from the kings of Bohemia and Granada, who order their daughters’ heads to be cut off or load them into a cannon, and then the
15396.168 cannon becomes a throne? We are neither kings, nor barbarians, nor do we have cannons, and if we imitated them we would be hanged at Bagumbayan. What
15405.248 are these princesses who mix in battles, distribute blows and cuts, fight with princes, and wander alone through mountains and valleys,
15414.848 as if seduced by the Tikbalang [81]? In our customs we love sweetness and tenderness in women, and we would fear to shake the hands
15424.128 of a maiden, stained with blood, even if that blood were that of a Moor or a giant; among us, we despise and consider vile any
15433.768 man who raises his hand against a woman, be he a prince, a second lieutenant, or a rude peasant. Would it not be a thousand times better if we presented a
15442.488 portrait of our own customs, to correct our vices and defects and extol our good qualities?
15450.408 « That’s right! That’s right! » repeated his supporters. « You’re right! » murmured some of the old men thoughtfully.
15457.888 « I had never thought of that! » continued Captain Basilio. « But how are you going to do that? » objected the intransigent.
15466.904 « Very easily! » replied the young man. « I have two comedies here, which surely the good taste and well-known discernment of the
15474.544 respectable elders gathered here will find very acceptable and entertaining. One is entitled The Election of the Little Governor;
15483.624 it is a prose comedy in five acts, written by one of those
15488.824 present.  » The other, in nine acts, for two nights, is a fantastic drama of a satirical character, written by one of the best poets
15497.944 of the province, and entitled Mariang Makiling [82]. Seeing
15504.064 that the discussion of the preparations for the festival was dragging on, and fearing that we were short of time, we secretly sought out our
15513.104 actors and made them learn their parts. We hope that with a week’s rehearsal, they will have more than enough to carry out
15521.424 their task successfully. This, gentlemen, besides being new, useful, and reasonable,
15527.024 is also economical: we don’t need costumes; ours will do, those
15532.744 of common life. « I’ll pay for the theater! » exclaimed Captain Basilio enthusiastically.
15539.824 « If any soldiers are coming, I’ll lend mine! » said the captain of the squad. « And I… and I… if you need an old man… » stammered another, and stood
15549.424 up with pompous expression. « Accepted! Accepted! » cried many voices.
15555.504 The senior lieutenant was pale with emotion; His eyes filled with tears . « He’s crying with spite! » thought the intransigent man, and he cried,
15563.704 « Accepted, accepted without question! » And satisfied with his revenge and the complete defeat of his adversary,
15571.104 the man began to praise the young man’s project. The young man continued, « A fifth of the money raised can be used to
15578.944 distribute certain prizes, for example, to the best boy in school, the best shepherd, farmer, fisherman, etc.
15587.304 We can organize regattas on the river and the lake, horse races, raise greased poles, and institute
15593.784 other games in which our peasants can take part. I grant that, because of our time-honored customs, we may have fireworks
15601.824 : wheels and castles offer very beautiful
15607.144 and entertaining spectacles, but I don’t think we need the bombs that the lieutenant-chief proposed. To liven up the festivities, two bands of music are
15614.544 sufficient; Thus, we avoid those quarrels and enmities that turn the
15621.224 poor musicians, who come to liven up our festivities with their work,
15626.344 into veritable fighting cocks, who then retire poorly paid, poorly
15631.984 fed, bruised, and sometimes wounded. With the money left over, we can begin the construction of a small building to serve
15640.424 as a school, for we must not wait for God himself to descend and build it for us: it is a sad thing that while we have a first-
15650.584 rate cockpit, our children learn little more than in the priest’s stable.
15656.504 Here is the hasty project; perfecting it will be the work of everyone.
15661.544 A joyful murmur arose in the room: almost everyone agreed with what the young man had said; only a few murmured:
15668.504 « New things! New things! In our youth… » « Let’s accept it for now, » said the others; « let’s humiliate him. »
15677.304 And they pointed at the lieutenant-chief. When silence was restored, everyone was in agreement.
15683.584 The governor’s decision was still pending . He was sweating, fidgeting, rubbing his forehead, and
15690.864 finally managed to stammer with his eyes lowered: « I’m in agreement too… but ahem! »
15697.744 The court listened to him in silence. « But? » asked Captain Basilio.
15702.904 « Very in agreement! » repeated the governor: « that is to say… I’m not. » ok… yes, but…
15708.464 And he rubbed his eyes with the back of his hand. « But the priest, » continued the unfortunate man, « the priest wants something else.
15715.736  » « Is the priest paying for the festival or are we? Has he even given a quarter? » exclaimed a penetrating voice.
15721.856 Everyone looked toward the place where these questions had come from: there stood the philosopher Tasio.
15728.056 The senior lieutenant stood motionless, his eyes fixed, looking at the little governor. « And what does the priest want? » asked Captain Basilio.
15735.936 « Well, the priest wants… six processions, three sermons, three high masses… and if there’s money left over, a comedy of Tondo and singing during
15744.576 the intermissions.  » « Well, we don’t want them! » said the young people and some of the old people.
15750.496 « The priest wants it! » repeated the little governor. « I promised the priest that his wishes would be fulfilled.
15757.136  » « Then why have you called us together? » « Precisely… to tell you.  » « And why didn’t you say so from the beginning? »
15764.016 « I wanted to say it, gentlemen, but Captain Basilio spoke and I haven’t had time… We must obey the priest!
15771.016  » « We must obey him! » repeated some of the old men. « We must obey! Otherwise the Mayor will imprison us
15778.816 all,  » added other old men sadly. « Then obey and celebrate yourselves! » exclaimed the young men,
15786.656 standing up. « We’ll withdraw our contribution.  » « Everything’s already been collected! » said the little governor.
15793.576 Don Filipo approached him and said bitterly: « I sacrificed my self-respect for a good cause; you
15801.416 sacrificed your dignity as a man for a bad one and you destroyed everything. »
15807.296 Ibarra said to the schoolmaster: « Do you want something for the provincial capital? I’m leaving
15813.856 immediately today.  » « Do you have a business? » “We have a business!” Ibarra answered mysteriously.
15820.2 Along the way, the old philosopher was saying to Don Filipo, who was cursing his fate:
15826.04 “It’s our fault! You didn’t protest when they gave you a slave as your leader, and I, crazy that I am, have forgotten!”
15833.92 Chapter 21. THE STORY OF A MOTHER. He wandered uncertainly—he flew errantly,
15839.52 not resting for a single instant…. (Alaejos). Sisa ran home with that confusion of ideas that occurs in
15847.88 our being when, in the midst of a misfortune, we find ourselves abandoned
15853.24 by everyone and all hope flees from us. Then it seems that everything goes dark around us, and if we see some little light shining in
15862.08 the distance, we run to it, we pursue it; it doesn’t matter if an abyss opens in the middle of the path!
15868.0 The mother wanted to save her children; how? Mothers don’t ask
15873.68 about the means when it comes to their children. She ran wildly, pursued by fears and sinister
15879.92 premonitions. Had they already arrested her son Basilio? Where had her Crispín fled to?
15886.4 Near her house, she made out the helmets of two soldiers above the fence of her garden. It was impossible to describe what passed through her
15893.68 heart: she forgot everything. She was aware of the audacity of those men, who showed no regard even for the richest people in town.
15902.88 What would become of her and her sons now, accused of theft? The Civil Guards are not men; they are only Civil Guards; they don’t hear
15913.12 pleas and are accustomed to seeing tears. Sisa instinctively raised her eyes to the sky, and the heavens smiled
15921.64 with an ineffable light: a few white clouds swam in the transparent
15927.36 blue. She stopped to suppress the trembling that took hold of her whole body. The soldiers were leaving their house and coming alone: ​​they had caught nothing
15937.584 but the hen that Sisa was fattening. She breathed and took heart. “How good they are and what a kind heart they have!” she murmured, almost weeping
15945.264 with joy. The soldiers would have burned the house, but they would have left her children free , and she would have showered them with blessings.
15952.864 She looked again gratefully at the sky, where a flock of herons crossed, those light clouds of the Philippine skies, and, reborn in her
15961.464 With her heart full of confidence, she continued on her way. As she approached those fearsome men, Sisa pretended to look around
15970.024 as if distracted, pretending not to see her hen, which was twittering for
15975.464 help. As soon as she passed them, she wanted to run, but prudence slowed her steps. She hadn’t gone far when she heard someone calling her
15983.144 imperiously. She shuddered, but pretended not to hear and continued
15988.504 walking. They called her again, but this time with a shout and an insulting word. In spite of herself, she turned around, pale and trembling. A
15998.184 Civil Guard was signaling to her with his hand. Sisa approached mechanically, feeling her tongue freeze with terror
16005.944 and her throat go dry. « Tell us the truth, or we’ll tie you to that tree and shoot you twice
16011.864 ! » said one of them in a threatening voice. The woman looked toward the tree.
16018.104 “Are you the mother of thieves?” asked the other. “Mother of thieves!” repeated Sisa mechanically.
16024.944 “Where is the money your sons brought you last night? ” “Ah! The money… ” “Don’t deny it to us, it will be worse for you!” added the other. “We have
16034.224 come to arrest your sons, and the eldest has escaped; where
16039.704 have you hidden the youngest?” Hearing this, Sisa breathed. “Sir!” she answered; “it is many days since I have seen my son Crispin:
16049.864 I expected to see him this morning at the convent, and there they only told me
16055.024 that…” The two soldiers exchanged a significant glance. “Well!” exclaimed one of them; “give us the money and we will leave you
16062.488 in peace. ” “Sir!” begged the unfortunate woman; “my sons do not steal even when
16068.328 they are hungry: we are accustomed to suffering it. Basilio has not brought me even a farthing; Search the whole house, and if you find a single
16077.088 real, do with us what you wish. We poor people are not all thieves!
16082.448 « Then, » the soldier replied slowly, fixing his gaze on Sisa’s, « you are coming with us; your children will try to appear
16090.968 and give up the money they have stolen. Follow us!  » « Me?… follow you? » the woman murmured, drawing back and looking in
16097.728 horror at the soldiers’ uniforms. « Why not?  » « Ah! Have pity on me! » she begged, almost on her knees. « I am very poor,
16106.328 I have neither gold nor jewels to offer you: the only thing I had you
16112.408 have already taken from me, the hen I was thinking of selling… take everything you find in my hut, but leave me here in peace, let me
16121.328 here die!  » « Go on! You must come, and if you do not come back at ease, we will tie you up.  » Sisa burst into bitter tears. Those men were inflexible.
16131.488 « At least let me go ahead at a distance! » she begged when she felt
16136.528 herself being brutally seized and pushed. The two soldiers were moved and conferred among themselves in low voices.
16143.128 « Good! » said one; « since you can run from here until we enter the village , you’ll be between us. Once there, you can
16151.528 march ahead at about twenty paces; but be careful! Don’t enter
16156.608 any tent, don’t stop. Onward and quickly! » In vain were the entreaties, in vain the arguments, useless the
16163.928 promises. The soldiers said they were promising enough and granting her too much.
16169.408 Finding herself between the two, she felt ashamed to death… No one was really coming along the road, but what about the fresh air and the light of day?
16177.76 True modesty sees glances everywhere. She covered her face with her handkerchief and, marching blindly, wept in silence over her
16185.48 humiliation. She knew her misery, she knew that she was abandoned by everyone, even by her own husband, but until now she had considered herself honorable
16194.44 and esteemed: until now she had looked with compassion on those women,
16199.84 scandalously dressed, whom the people called the soldiers’ concubines . Now it seemed to her that she had descended one step further than them
16208.16 in the scale of life. The sound of horses’ feet was heard: they were carrying fish to the
16214.16 villages in the interior. They made their journeys in small caravans, men and women mounted on poor horses, between two baskets hung on the
16223.0 sides of the animals. Several of them, as they passed in front of her hut, They had asked her for water to drink and given her some fish. Now,
16232.28 as she passed by, it seemed to her that they were trampling and shoving her, and that their glances, compassionate or disdainful, pierced through her
16240.28 handkerchief and stabbed her face. Finally, the travelers moved away, and Sisa sighed. She lifted
16247.72 her handkerchief for a moment to see if they were still far from the town. There were a few telegraph poles before reaching the bantayan, or sentry box.
16255.36 That distance had never seemed so long to her. Along the roadside grew a leafy sugarcane field, in whose shade
16262.04 she had once rested. There, her fiancé engaged her in sweet conversation; he helped her carry the basket of fruits and vegetables.
16270.96 Alas! That passed like a dream; the fiancé became a husband, and the husband became cabeza de barangay, and then misfortune began to knock
16281.8 at her door. As the sun began to burn, the soldiers asked her if she wanted to rest.
16287.4 « Thank you! » she replied, horrified. But it was as they approached
16292.712 the village that she truly felt terror. Distraught, she looked around: vast rice paddies, a small irrigation canal, stunted trees; not a
16302.672 precipice or a rock to crash against! She regretted having followed the soldiers there; she missed the deep
16311.272 river that ran near her hut, whose high banks, strewn with sharp rocks, offered such sweet death. But the thought of
16319.992 her children, of her son Crispín, whose fate she still didn’t know, illuminated her
16325.632 that night, and she was able to murmur with resignation: « Later… later we’ll go live in the depths of the forest! »
16332.552 She dried her eyes, tried to calm herself, and addressing the guards, she said in a low voice:
16338.752 « We’re back in the village! » Her accent was indefinable; it was a complaint, a rebuke, a lament; it was a
16345.432 prayer, it was pain condensed into sound. The soldiers, moved, responded with a gesture. Sisa
16353.432 quickly stepped forward, trying to affect a calm air. At that moment, the bells began to ring, announcing the
16360.672 end of high mass. Sisa quickened her pace so as not to run into the people leaving, if possible. But in vain; there was no way to
16370.232 avoid them. With a bitter smile, she greeted two acquaintances who were questioning her with
16376.952 their eyes. From then on, to avoid such mortifications, she lowered
16382.312 her head and stared only at the ground, and strangely enough, she stumbled over the stones in the road.
16389.072 People stopped for a moment when they saw her, conversing among themselves, following her with their eyes: she saw all this, she felt it, despite
16398.191 constantly keeping her eyes lowered. She heard a shameless woman’s voice asking from behind her,
16405.111 almost shouting: « Where did you get it? And the money? » It was a woman, without a tapis or tunic, wearing a yellow and green skirt and a blue gauze
16415.312 shirt . It was clear from her dress that she was a beloved of the soldiery. Sisa thought she felt a slap: that woman had stripped her naked
16425.992 in front of the crowd. She raised her eyes for a moment to satiate herself with the mockery and contempt; she saw the people far, far away from her,
16435.393 and yet she felt the cold of their gazes and heard their whispers. The poor woman walked without feeling the ground.
16442.152 « Hey, this way! » a guard shouted to her. Like an automaton whose mechanism has broken, she quickly spun around
16449.633 . Without seeing anything, without thinking, she ran to hide. She saw
16454.912 a door with a sentry, tried to go through it, but another voice, even more imperious, pulled her back. With hesitant steps,
16464.072 she searched for the direction of that voice, felt someone pushing her from behind, closed her eyes, took two steps, and, failing,
16473.111 let herself fall to the ground, first on her knees and then sitting. A cry without tears, without screams, without moans, shook her convulsively.
16482.672 That was the barracks. There were soldiers, women, pigs, and chickens. Some were sewing their clothes while their beloved lay
16491.432 on the bench, using the man’s thigh as a pillow, smoking and staring boredly at the ceiling. Others were helping the men
16499.633 cleaning the clothes, weapons, etc., singing lewd songs in low voices.
16505.633 « It seems the chickens have escaped! You’ve only got the hen! » said a woman to the new arrivals. It has not been determined
16515.352 whether she was referring to Sisa or to the hen that continued to chirp. « Yes, the hen is always worth more than the chickens! » she answered herself
16523.832 when she saw that the soldiers had fallen silent. « Where is the sergeant? » asked one of the
16530.016 Civil Guards in a disgruntled tone. « Have they notified the second lieutenant yet? » Shrugging shoulders were the replies: no one
16539.377 bothered to find out anything about the poor woman’s fate. There she spent two hours in a state of semi-asleep, huddled in
16548.377 a corner, her head hidden in her hands, her hair disheveled and in disarray. At noon, the ensign found out, and the first thing he did
16557.336 was to discredit the priest’s accusation. « Bah! The petty friar’s tricks! » he said, and ordered that
16565.936 the woman be released and that no one else should be involved in the matter. « If she wants to recover what she lost, » he added, « let her ask her Saint
16572.695 Anthony or complain to the nuncio! Clear up the matter! » As a result, Sisa was thrown out of the barracks, almost pushed,
16580.137 because she wouldn’t move. When she found herself in the middle of the street, she began to walk mechanically toward her
16585.855 house, quickly, with her head uncovered, her hair disheveled, and
16591.455 her gaze fixed on the distant horizon. The sun was blazing at its zenith, and
16597.137 there was not a cloud to veil its resplendent disc; the wind weakly stirred the leaves of the trees; the road was already almost dry;
16605.416 Not a single bird dared to leave the shade of the branches. Sisa finally reached her little house. She entered, mute, silent;
16614.816 she walked around it, left, and started walking in all directions. Then she ran to old Tasio’s house and knocked on the door, but the old man
16623.695 wasn’t there. The unfortunate woman returned home and began to call out loud:
16628.855 « Basilio! Crispín! » pausing every now and then and listening
16634.896 intently. The echo repeated her voice; the sweet murmur of the water in the nearby river, the music of the reed leaves were the only
16644.455 voices in the solitude. She called again, climbed to a height, descended into a ravine, and went down into the river. His eyes wandered with a sinister expression,
16654.801 illuminating from time to time with vivid flashes, then darkening, like the sky on a stormy night: it seemed as if the
16663.881 light of reason was flickering and about to go out. He went back up to his little house, sat down on the mat where they had slept
16672.4 the night before, raised his eyes, and saw a shred of Basilio’s shirt
16677.52 at the end of a reed from the dinding or partition, which falls near the precipice. He got up, picked it up, and examined it in the sunlight
16686.4 : the shred had bloodstains. But Sisa perhaps didn’t see them, for he went down and continued examining it in the midst of the scorching rays,
16695.801 holding it up high; and as if he felt everything darkening and his
16700.881 clarity fading, he looked straight at the sun with his eyes wide open.
16707.0 She continued to wander from one side to the other, screaming or howling strange
16712.24 sounds; anyone who had heard her would have been afraid: her voice had a strange timbre, such as the human larynx does not usually produce. At
16721.0 night, when the storm rages and the wind flies with dizzying speed, beating with its invisible wings an army of shadows that
16730.119 pursue it, if you find yourself in a ruined and solitary building, you hear certain moans, certain sighs that you suppose are the
16739.08 wind rustling against the high towers or the ruined walls, but which fill you with terror and make you shudder beyond help;
16747.961 well, that mother’s tone was even more lugubrious than those
16753.24 unknown laments on dark nights when the storm rages.
16758.439 Thus the night surprised her. Perhaps heaven would grant him a few hours of sleep, during which the invisible wing of an angel,
16766.336 brushing his pale face, would have erased his memory, reduced all to pain; perhaps so much suffering would not be within the measure of weak
16775.936 human resistance, and then Mother Providence would intervene with her sweet palliative, oblivion; whatever it may be, the fact is
16784.576 that, the following day, Sisa wandered around smiling, singing or talking with all the beings of Nature.
16790.416 Chapter 22. LIGHTS AND SHADOWS. Three days have passed since the events we have narrated. These
16797.696 three days and nights have been dedicated by the people of San Diego to making preparations for the festival and to commentating, murmuring all the while.
16806.176 While they savored the future rejoicings, some spoke ill of the gobernadorcillo, others of the teniente mayor, others of the young people,
16815.376 and there were those who blamed everyone for everything. They commented on the arrival of María Clara, accompanied by Aunt Isabel. They
16823.256 rejoiced at this because they loved her, and while they greatly admired her beauty, they also marveled at the changes that
16831.656 Father Salví’s character had undergone. He is often distracted during the holy sacrifice; He doesn’t talk much with us anymore and is visibly becoming thinner and more
16840.056 taciturn, his penitents said. The cook saw him growing thinner by the minute and complained about the lack of honor he showed his dishes. But
16848.496 what most excited the people’s gossip was the fact that more than two lights were on in the convent during the night while Father Salví
16856.656 was visiting a private home… María Clara’s house! The nuns crossed themselves, but continued murmuring.
16864.416 Juan Crisóstomo Ibarra had telegraphed from the provincial capital greeting Aunt Isabel and her niece, but without explaining the
16873.696 reason for his absence. Many believed him to be in prison for his behavior with Father Salví on the afternoon of All Saints’ Day. But the gossip
16882.68 escalated when, on the afternoon of the third day, they saw him get out of a carriage in front of his future wife’s house and politely greet
16891.36 the religious man who was also on his way to her. No one cared about Sisa and her children.
16898.68 If we now go to María Clara’s house, a beautiful nest among orange and ilang ilang trees, we will still catch sight of the two young people, leaning out of a
16907.6 window overlooking the lake. It was shaded by flowers and vines, which climbed canes and wires, spreading a light perfume.
16915.96 Their lips murmured words, softer than the whisper of the leaves
16921.4 and more fragrant than the scented air that drifted through the
16926.72 garden. It was the hour when the sirens of the lake, taking advantage of the shadows of the swift twilight, poked
16935.68 their cheerful little heads above the waves to admire and salute the dying sun with their songs. They say their eyes and hair are blue, that they are crowned
16945.72 with aquatic plants with white and red flowers; They say that from time to time the white foam reveals its sculptural forms, whiter
16955.28 even than the foam itself, and that when night has completely descended, they begin their divine games and let out mysterious chords like
16963.44 those of Aeolian harps; they also say… but let us return to our young people and listen to the end of their conversation, Ibarra said to María Clara.
16973.6 « Tomorrow, before dawn breaks, your wish will be granted. Tonight I will arrange everything so that nothing is lacking.
16981.48  » « Then I will write to my friends, so that they may come. Make sure that the priest cannot continue!  » « And why?
16988.16  » « Because he seems to be watching me. His sunken, somber eyes hurt me ; when he fixes them on me, they frighten me. When he speaks to me
16996.72 , he has a voice… he speaks to me of things so strange, incomprehensible, so strange… He asked me once if I had not dreamed of letters
17004.68 from my mother; I think he is half mad. » My friend Sinang and Andeng, my foster sister, say he’s a bit sick because he doesn’t eat or
17013.36 bathe and lives in the dark. Make sure he doesn’t come! « We can’t help but not invite him, » Ibarra answers thoughtfully. « The
17019.96 customs of the country require it; he’s in your house, and besides, he’s behaved nobly toward me. When the mayor consulted him about the
17027.92 business I mentioned to you, he had nothing but praise for me and didn’t try to put the slightest obstacle in the way. But I see you’re getting serious;
17037.68 don’t worry, he won’t be able to join us on the bench. » Light footsteps were heard: it was the priest approaching with a forced
17045.48 smile on his lips. « The wind is cold! » he said. « When you catch a cold, it doesn’t go away until the warm weather comes. Aren’t you afraid of catching a cold? »
17053.52 His voice was trembling, and his gaze was directed toward the distant horizon;
17058.8 he didn’t look at the young men. « On the contrary, we find the night pleasant and the wind delightful! » Ibarra replied. « In these months we have our autumn
17068.2 and our spring; some leaves fall, but flowers always sprout.
17074.28  » The friar sighed. « I find the combination of these two seasons very beautiful without the
17079.88 intervention of the cold winter, » Ibarra continued. « In February the buds will sprout on the branches of the fruit trees, and by March we will have
17088.6 ripe fruit. When the warmer months come, we will go somewhere else.
17093.96  » Friar Salví smiled. They began to talk about indifferent things—the weather, the town, the festival; María Clara found an excuse and
17103.64 left.
“And since we’re talking about festivals, allow me to invite you to the one we’ll be holding tomorrow. It’s a country festival that
17111.52 our friends and we give each other. ” “And where will it be held? ” “The young women want it at the stream that runs in the neighboring woods,
17118.864 near the balitî; that’s why we’ll get up early so the sun doesn’t reach us.”
17124.184 The priest reflected; a moment later, he replied: “The invitation is very tempting, and I accept to prove that I no longer
17132.904 hold a grudge against you. But I’ll have to come later after I’ve fulfilled my obligations. Happy you are free, completely free!”
17140.984 Minutes later, Ibarra took his leave to take charge of the next day’s festival
17146.344 . “It was already dark night. Someone approached him on the street and greeted him reverently.
17152.024 “Who are you?” Ibarra asked. « You don’t know my name, sir, » replied the stranger. « I’ve
17157.544 been waiting for you for two days.  » « And why?  » « Because they haven’t taken pity on me anywhere, because they say
17163.904 I’m a bandit, sir! But I’ve lost my children, my wife is crazy , and everyone says I deserve my fate! »
17170.744 Ibarra quickly examined the man and asked, « What do you want now?
17175.904  » « To implore your mercy for my wife and children! » « I can’t stop, » replied Ibarra. « If you want to follow me,
17183.704 you can walk and tell me what happened to you. » The man thanked them, and they soon disappeared into the darkness
17189.904 of the dimly lit streets. Chapter 23. THE FISHING The stars were still shining in the sapphire vault, and the birds
17198.504 were still slumbering on the branches, when a cheerful procession was now passing through the streets of the town, on its way to the lake, by the cheerful light of the
17207.304 pitch torches commonly called huepes. They were five young girls, walking quickly, holding hands or
17214.824 at the waist, followed by some old women and several maids, who
17220.024 gracefully carried on their heads baskets full of provisions,
17225.104 dishes, etc. Seeing their faces, where youth laughs and
17230.168 hopes shine, contemplating their abundant black hair and the wide folds of their dresses floating in the wind, we would take them
17238.328 for divinities of the night fleeing from the day, if we did not know that they were María Clara with her four friends: the cheerful Sinang, her
17247.088 stern cousin Victoria, the beautiful Iday, and the thoughtful Neneng, of modest and fearful beauty.
17253.008 They conversed animatedly, laughed, pinched each other, whispered in each other’s ears, and then burst out laughing.
17260.408 « You’re going to wake up the people who are still sleeping! » Aunt Isabel scolded them. « When we were young, we didn’t make such a racket.
17268.168  » « Nor would you get up as early as we do, nor would the old people be so sleepy! » replied little Sinang.
17274.608 They would fall silent for a moment, trying to lower their voices, but soon they would forget, laughing and filling the street with their youthful, fresh
17283.488 accents. « Pretend to be resentful; don’t talk to him! » Sinang would say to María Clara. « Scold him so he doesn’t get into bad habits! »
17290.888 « Don’t be so demanding, » Iday would say. « Be demanding, don’t be silly! The groom must obey while
17297.888 he’s a groom, and then when he’s a husband, he does whatever he wants! » little Sinang would advise.
17303.608 « What do you understand about that, child? » her cousin Victoria would correct her. « Psst, be quiet, they’re coming! »
17309.168 Indeed, a group of young men were coming, lighting themselves with large reed torches. They were marching quite seriously to the sound of a guitar.
17316.968 « It sounds like a beggar’s guitar! » Sinang said, laughing. When the two groups met, it was the women who
17324.528 maintained a serious and formal demeanor, as if they hadn’t yet learned to laugh; on the contrary, the men were talking, greeting each other,
17332.688 smiling, and asking six questions to get half an answer. « Is the lake calm? Do you think we’ll have good
17340.328 weather? » the mothers would ask. « Don’t worry, ladies; « I know how to swim well, » replied a
17346.8 tall, thin, and slender young man. « We should have heard Mass first! » sighed Aunt Isabel, clasping
17352.08 her hands. « There’s still time, madam; Albino, who was a seminarian, can
17358.32 say it in the pew, » replied another, pointing at the tall, thin young man. This one, who had a sarcastic expression, upon hearing this alluded to,
17367.88 adopted a contrite expression, caricaturing Father Salví. Ibarra, without losing his seriousness, also took part in the joy
17377.2 of his companions. Upon reaching the beach, exclamations of astonishment and joy involuntarily escaped the women’s lips
17382.8 . They saw two large benches, joined together, picturesquely adorned with garlands of
17392.32 flowers and leaves, with tattered fabrics of various colors:
17397.52 paper lanterns hung from the improvised deck alternating between roses and carnations, fruits such as pineapples, kasuy, bananas, guavas, and lanzones
17407.64 [83], etc. Ibarra had brought his rugs, tapestries, and cushions, and
17413.2 made comfortable seats for the women. The tikines [84]
17418.8 and oars also had their decorations. On the most adorned bench
17423.84 there was a harp, guitars, accordions, and a carabao horn; on the other a fire was burning in clay kalanes [85]; tea, coffee
17433.4 , and salabat [86] were being prepared for breakfast. « Here the women, there the men! » the mothers would say as
17441.0 they boarded. « Stay still! Don’t move too much, or we’ll sink. »
17446.28 « Make the sign of the cross first! » Aunt Isabel would say, crossing herself. « And will we be so alone here? » Sinang would ask
17453.84 , pouting. « Just us? » « Aray!  » This « aray! » was caused by a pinch her mother had given her just in time.
17461.6 The benches were slowly moving away from the beach, reflecting the light from the lanterns in the mirror of the completely tranquil lake.
17469.264 In the east, the first shades of dawn were appearing. Relatively, silence reigned; the youth, with the separation established
17477.664 by their mothers, seemed to be engaged in meditation. « Be careful! » Albino, the seminarian, said aloud to another
17485.984 young man. « Tread carefully on the tow under your foot. » « What is it? » « It could jump out and the water could get in: this bench has many holes.
17494.944  » « Oh, we’re going to sink! » the terrified women cried. « Don’t worry, ladies! » the seminarian assured them. « That
17503.184 bench is safe: it only has five holes, and they’re not very big.  » « Five holes! Jesus! Are you trying to drown us? »
17512.904 the horrified women exclaimed. « Only five, ladies, and about this big! » the
17518.384 seminarian assured them, showing them the small circle formed by his index finger and thumb. « Tread on the tow carefully so they don’t jump out.
17526.704  » « My God! Holy Mary! Water’s coming in! » cried an old woman who felt she was getting wet.
17533.024 There was a small tumult; some were screaming, others thought of jumping into the water.
17538.424 « Tread on the tow carefully, over there! » Albino continued, pointing to the place where the young women were.
17545.584 « Where? Where? God! We don’t know! Please come, we don’t know! » the fearful women implored.
17552.064 It was necessary for five young people to go to the other bench to calm the terrified mothers. Strange coincidence! It seemed that
17561.384 There was a danger beside each of the dalagas: the old ones had no joints or even a compromised hole. And even stranger! Ibarra
17570.384 was sitting next to María Clara, Albino next to Victoria, etc. Tranquility reigned again in the circle of the caring mothers,
17578.984 but not in that of the young ones. Since the water was completely calm, the fishing pens were not
17585.784 far away, and it was still very early, it was decided to leave the oars and
17590.824 everyone would have breakfast. The lanterns were extinguished, for dawn was already illuminating the space.
17597.288 « There is nothing that can compare to salabat, taken in the morning before going to mass! » said Captain Ticá, the mother of the cheerful
17605.568 Sinang. « Take salabat with poto [87], Albino, and you will see that it will even
17610.808 make you want to pray.  » « That’s what I do, » he replied. « I plan to confess. » « No! » Sinang would say, « have some coffee, it gives you cheerful thoughts.
17619.048  » « Right now, because I’m feeling a little sad.  » « Don’t do that! » Aunt Isabel would warn her; « have some tea with biscuits;
17627.048 they say tea calms your thoughts.  » « I’ll have some tea with biscuits too! » the obliging
17632.928 seminarian would reply; « fortunately, none of these drinks is Catholicism.  » « But can you? » Victoria asked.
17641.168 « Have some chocolate too? I believe so! As long as lunch doesn’t take too long…
17646.928  » The morning was beautiful: the waters were beginning to shine, and from the
17652.128 direct light from the sky and the light reflected by the waters, a clarity resulted that illuminated objects, almost without casting shadows, a
17660.888 brilliant and fresh clarity, saturated with colors, which we glimpse in some seascapes.
17666.888 Almost everyone was cheerful, breathing in the light breeze that was beginning to stir; even the mothers, so full of foresight and
17676.088 warnings, were laughing and joking among themselves. « Do you remember? » one of them said to Captain Ticá, « do you remember when
17682.848 we used to bathe in the river, when we were still single? They would go down the stream, perhaps, on benches made of banana bark,
17691.248 with various kinds of fruit among fragrant flowers. Each one carried a little flag on which we could read our names…
17700.368 « And when we returned home? » another added, without letting the first finish; « we would find the cane bridges destroyed and then
17709.368 we had to wade through the streams… the rascals!  » « Yes! » Captain Ticá would say, « but I preferred to wet the edges of
17716.824 my skirt rather than uncover my foot: I knew that in the bushes along
17721.984 the bank there were eyes watching. » The young women listening to these things looked at each other and smiled; the others
17728.744 were having their own conversations and paid no attention. Only one man, the one acting as pilot, remained silent
17736.304 and oblivious to all the merriment. He was a young man with athletic build and
17741.424 an interesting physiognomy, thanks to his large, sad eyes and the severe contours of his lips. His long, unkempt black hair
17749.864 fell over his robust neck; a shirt of coarse, dark cloth
17755.744 revealed through its folds the powerful muscles that helped his sinewy, bare arms maneuver, like a
17763.584 feather, a wide, enormous oar, which served as a rudder to guide the two benches.
17769.504 María Clara had caught him watching her more than once: he would then quickly turn his gaze elsewhere and look into the distance,
17779.064 at the mountain, at the shore. The young woman took pity on his loneliness and, taking some cookies, offered them to him. The pilot looked at her with some surprise,
17787.384 but this look only lasted a second; he took a biscuit and thanked her briefly and in a barely audible voice.
17795.864 And no one thought of him again. The joyful laughter and the jokes of the young people didn’t twitch a muscle on his face;
17804.024 the cheerful Sinang didn’t make him smile when he received pinches, which made her furrow her eyebrows for a moment, only to return to her
17811.584 former cheerfulness. After breakfast, they continued their excursion toward the
17816.664 fishing pens. There were two of them, placed some distance from each other: both
17822.664 belonged to Captain Tiago. From a distance, some herons could be seen perched on the tips of the reeds of the fence, in a contemplative attitude,
17831.504 while some white birds, which the Tagalogs call kalauay or calao, flew in different directions
17836.984 , skimming the surface of the lake with their wings
17843.104 and filling the air with shrill cries. María Clara watched the herons, which, as the
17850.024 benches approached, began to fly off in the direction of the neighboring mountain. « Do those birds nest in the mountain? » the young woman asked the pilot, perhaps
17858.704 more to find out and make him talk. « Probably, madam, » he replied; « but no one has seen their nests so far
17864.184 .  » « Do those birds not have nests?  » « I suppose they must, otherwise they would be very
17869.664 unhappy.  » María Clara did not notice the sad tone with which the
17874.904 pilot pronounced these words. « So? »  » They say, madam, » replied the young man, « that the nests of these birds are
17881.984 invisible and have the quality of making whoever holds them invisible ; and, like the soul that is seen only in the smooth mirror of
17891.264 the eyes, it is also in the mirror of the waters that only these nests can be contemplated.  »
17897.784 Maria Clara became thoughtful. In the meantime, they had reached the baklad [88]: the old banker tied the
17904.304 boats to a rod. « Wait! » said Aunt Isabel to the old man’s son, who was preparing to
17910.504 board equipped with his panalok, or rod and net bag;  » the sinigang must be ready so that the fish can pass from the
17918.264 water to the broth.  » « Good Aunt Isabel! » exclaimed the seminarian; « she doesn’t want the fish to miss the water for even a moment. »
17925.664 Andeng, Maria Clara’s foster sister, despite her clean and cheerful face, had a reputation as a good cook. She prepared rice water,
17934.784 tomatoes, and mangoes, with some helping or hindering her, perhaps wanting
17940.384 to earn her sympathy. The young women cleaned the squash heads and peas, and cut the paayab [89] into short pieces as long
17950.4 as cigarettes. To distract the impatience of those who wanted to see how
17955.84 the fish would emerge from their prison, alive and kicking, the beautiful Iday took up the harp. Iday not only played this instrument well, but
17964.8 also had very beautiful fingers. The young woman clapped her hands, and Maria Clara kissed her; the harp is
17971.12 the most played instrument in that province and was the one appropriate for those moments. « Sing, Victoria, the wedding song! » the mothers requested.
17980.72 The men protested, and Victoria, who had a good voice, complained of hoarseness. The wedding song is a beautiful Tagalog elegy
17990.12 that depicts all the miseries and sadness of this state, without mentioning any of its joys.
17997.16 Then they asked María Clara to sing. « All my songs are sad.
18002.32  » « It doesn’t matter, it doesn’t matter! » they all said. She didn’t need to be asked; she picked up the harp, played a prelude, and sang in a
18009.0 vibrant, harmonious, and soulful voice. Sweet are the hours in one’s own homeland,
18014.4 Where all that shines in the sun is a friend, Life is the breeze that flies through its fields,
18020.0 Death is pleasant, and love is more tender! Ardent kisses play on the lips,
18025.52 A mother’s bosom upon awakening, Arms seek to encircle the neck,
18030.64 And eyes smile as they look. Sweet is death for one’s own homeland, Where all that shines in the sun is a friend:
18037.32 Death is the breeze for one who has no homeland, no mother, no love!
18042.52 The voices faded, the song ceased, the harp fell silent, and still they continued listening: no one applauded. The young women felt their eyes fill
18051.4 with tears. Ibarra seemed upset, and the young pilot stared
18056.488 motionless into the distance. Suddenly, a thunderous crash was heard: the women let out a cry and covered their ears. It was the former seminarian Albino,
18065.528 blowing at the top of his lungs into the carabao horn, called a tambulî. Laughter and animation returned; their eyes, filled
18073.608 with tears, shone joyfully. « But are you going to make us deaf, heretic? » Aunt Isabel cried at him.
18079.928 « Madam, » the ex-seminarian answered solemnly, « I have heard of a poor trumpeter, down on the banks of the Rhine, who
18088.488 married a noble and rich maiden for playing the trumpet.  » « That’s right, the trumpeter of Säckingen, » added Ibarra, unable to
18096.088 resist taking part in the new excitement. « Do you hear him? » Albino continued, « well, I want to see if I have the same
18101.968 luck. » And he blew the resonant horn even more vigorously, bringing the horn particularly close to the ears of the young women who
18111.048 had become the saddest. Naturally, there was a small commotion; the mothers silenced him by slapping and pinching them.
18118.168 « Aray! » « Aray! » he said, feeling his arms. « The distance that separates the Philippines from the banks of the Rhine! Oh tempora! Oh mores! To
18127.168 some they give encomiendas and to others sambenitos!  » Everyone was already laughing, even Victoria herself; however, Sinang, she of
18136.408 the joyful eyes, said in a low voice to Maria Clara: « Happy you! Ah, I too would sing if I could! »
18142.888 Andeng finally announced that the broth was now ready to receive its guests.
18148.048 The young man, the fisherman’s son, then climbed onto the corral or bag, placed at the narrowest end of it,
18157.128 where one could write Lasciati ogni speranza voi ch’entrate, if the unfortunate fish knew how to read and understand Italian:
18166.048 a fish that entered there came out only to die. It is an almost circular space about a meter in diameter, arranged so
18175.208 that a man could stand on top and from there remove the fish with the net.
18181.768 « I wouldn’t get bored fishing with a rod there! » Sinang said, shuddering with pleasure.
18187.528 Everyone was attentive: some already thought they could see the fish wriggling and squirming inside the net, their gleaming scales shining, etc. However
18196.768 , when the young man put it in, not a single fish jumped out. « It must be full, » Albino said in a low voice; « it’s been more than five
18204.728 days since we last visited it.  » The fisherman pulled in his rod… alas! not a single fish adorned the net;
18212.408 the water, falling in abundant drops illuminated by the sun, seemed to laugh with a silvery laugh. An « ah! » of admiration, of disgust, of
18221.808 disappointment escaped everyone’s lips. The young man repeated the same operation, and the same result.
18228.168 « You don’t understand your job! » Albino said, climbing into the enclosure and snatching the net from the young man’s hands.
18234.728 « Now you’ll see! Andeng, open the pot! » But Albino didn’t understand either and kept the net empty. Everyone
18240.728 burst out laughing. « Don’t make a noise, the fish can hear you and won’t let you catch them! » he said. « This net must be dirty. »
18247.888 But the net had all its meshes intact. « Leave it to me, » said Leon, Iday’s boyfriend.
18254.488 He made sure of the condition of the enclosure, examined the net, and, satisfied, asked:
18260.608 « Are you sure it hasn’t been visited for five days?  » « Absolutely sure! The last time was All Saints’ Eve.
18268.288  » « Well then, either the lake is enchanted or I’ll catch something. » Leon put the line in the water, but his face was filled with astonishment
18275.968 . He looked silently at the neighboring mountain for a moment and continued moving the rod in the water. Then, without withdrawing it, he murmured in a low voice:
18286.648 « An alligator.  » « An alligator! » they repeated. The word spread from mouth to mouth amidst the
18293.352 general horror and stupefaction. « What are you saying? » they asked him. « I say there’s an alligator caught, » León affirmed, and putting the
18302.312 rod handle in the water, he continued: « Do you hear that sound? That’s not the sand, it’s the tough skin, the
18309.552 alligator’s back. Do you see how the rods move? It’s him struggling, but he’s curled up on himself. Wait… he’s big; his body is
18319.072 almost a palm or more wide.  » « What to do? » was the question. « Catch him! » said a voice.
18324.912 « Jesus! And who’s going to catch him? » No one dared to descend into the abyss. The water was deep.
18331.872 « We should have tied him to our bench and dragged him away in triumph! » said Sinang; « eat the fish we were meant to eat!
18338.992  » « I haven’t seen a live alligator yet! » murmured María Clara. The pilot stood up, grabbed a long rope, and nimbly climbed onto the
18347.352 platform. León gave him his place. Except for María Clara, no one had noticed him before;
18354.712 now everyone admired his slender stature. To his great surprise, and despite everyone’s shouts, the pilot jumped
18361.992 into the enclosure. « Take this knife! » shouted Crisóstomo, pulling out a broad
18367.112 Toledo blade. But the water was already rising in a thousand jets, and the chasm mysteriously closed in.
18373.192 « Jesus, Mary, and Joseph! » exclaimed the women. « We’re going to have a
18378.552 disaster! Jesus, Mary, and Joseph! » « Don’t worry, ladies, » the old banker told them. « If there’s
18386.392 anyone in the whole province who can do it, it’s him.  » « What’s that man’s name? » they asked.
18392.272 « We call him the Pilot: he’s the best I’ve ever seen; only he doesn’t love the job. »
18397.872 The water stirred, the water churned: it seemed that a struggle was raging at the bottom; the siege wavered. Everyone fell silent and held their
18406.632 breath. Ibarra convulsively gripped the hilt of the sharp knife. The struggle seemed to be over. The young man’s head appeared above
18417.4 and was greeted with joyful shouts; the women’s eyes were
18422.64 full of tears. The pilot climbed up, holding the end of the rope in his hand, and once on the platform, he pulled it up.
18429.48 The monster appeared: the rope was tied in a double band around his neck and under his forelegs. It was large, as
18437.4 León had already predicted, painted, and on its back grew green moss, which is to alligators what gray hair is to men. It bellowed
18447.88 like an ox, lashed its tail against the cane walls, clung to them, and opened its black, tremendous jaws, revealing its
18457.0 long fangs. The pilot hoisted it alone; no one remembered to help him.
18463.08 Once out of the water and positioned on the platform, he placed his foot on it, with a strong hand closed its enormous jaws, and tried to tie its
18471.96 snout with strong knots. The reptile attempted another effort, arched its body, beat the ground with its powerful tail, and, escaping, leaped
18482.28 into the lake outside the corral, dragging its trainer with it. The pilot was a dead man; a cry of horror escaped from everyone’s hearts.
18490.76 Quick as lightning, another body fell into the water; they barely had time
18495.8 to see that it was Ibarra. Maria Clara did not faint, because the Philippines
18501.4 do not yet know how to faint. They saw the waves turn red, tinged with blood. The young fisherman
18507.52 jumped into the abyss with his bolo [90] in his hand, his father following him; but they had hardly disappeared when they saw Crisóstomo and the pilot
18516.64 reappear, clutching the corpse of the reptile. Its entire white belly was ripped open and the knife stuck in its throat.
18523.88 It is impossible to describe the joy of those present: a thousand arms stretched out to pull the young men from the water. The old women were
18532.72 half-mad and laughed and prayed. Andeng forgot that her sinigang had boiled three times: all the broth spilled out and extinguished the fire. The
18542.112 only one who could not speak was Maria Clara. Ibarra was unharmed; the pilot had a slight scratch on his arm.
18550.032 « I owe you my life! » he said to Ibarra, who was wrapping himself in wool blankets and tapestries.
18555.192 The pilot’s voice seemed to reveal some sorrow. « You are too intrepid, » Ibarra replied; « you will not tempt
18562.432 God again .  » « If you had followed me, if we had died, » the young man replied,
18567.512 completing his thought, « at the bottom of the lake, I would have been with my family!
18573.112  » Ibarra did not remember that his father’s remains lay there. The old women no longer wanted to go to the other baklad, but to withdraw, alleging
18581.072 that the day had begun badly and many misfortunes could occur.
18586.192 « It’s all because we didn’t hear mass! » one sighed. « But what misfortune have we had, ladies? » Ibarra asked. « The
18592.392 The alligator is truly unhappy! « Which proves, » concluded the ex-seminarian, « that in his entire sinful
18599.352 life this reptile has never heard mass. I have never seen him among the numerous alligators that frequent the church. »
18605.512 The pews then moved toward the other baklad, and Andeng had to prepare another sinigang.
18612.232 The day was advancing; the breeze was blowing; the waves were awakening and rippling
18617.312 around the alligator, raising mounds of foam where the sunlight shines, rich in color, as the poet Paterno speaks.
18626.392 Music began again: Iday played the harp; the men played accordions and guitars, more or less in tune, but the one who
18636.512 played the best was Albino, who strummed truly out of tune and lost the beat every moment, or perhaps forgot it and
18644.552 moved on to an entirely different sonata. The other corral was visited with suspicion.
18651.168 Many hoped to find the female alligator there; but nature is tricky,
18657.168 and the net always came out full. Aunt Isable commanded: « The ayungin is good for the sinigang; leave the biâ for the escabeche,
18666.128 the dalay and the buan-buan for pesâ: the dalag can live a long time. Put them
18671.208 in the net so they stay in the water. The lobsters in the pan! The bânak is for roasting, wrapped in banana leaves and stuffed with tomatoes.
18680.848  » « Leave the rest to serve as a lure: it’s not good to empty the baklad completely, » she added.
18686.848 Then they tried to land on the shore, in that forest of centuries-old trees belonging to Ibarra. There, in the shade and by
18695.088 the crystalline stream, they would have lunch among the flowers or under makeshift tents.
18700.528 Music resonated in the space; The smoke from the kalanes rose
18705.728 joyfully in the form of faint whirlwinds; the water sang inside the burning vessel, perhaps words of consolation for the dead fish,
18715.248 perhaps words of sarcasm and mockery; the alligator’s corpse spun, now displaying its white and mangled belly, now its painted and greenish
18724.808 back, and man, nature’s favorite, was not worried about so many fratricides, as the Brahmins or vegetarians would say.
18734.008 Chapter 24. IN THE FOREST. Early, very early, Father Salví had said his mass and cleansed
18741.248 a dozen filthy souls in a few minutes, which was not his custom. Afterward, after reading some letters that arrived well sealed and
18749.648 sealed, the worthy priest lost his appetite and let the chocolate cool completely.
18756.288 « The father is getting sick, » said the cook as he prepared another cup; « he hasn’t eaten for days: of the six plates I put
18764.088 on the table, he doesn’t touch two.  » « He sleeps badly, » replied the other servant; « he’s had nightmares since
18770.808 he changed rooms. His eyes are getting sunken in more and more, he’s getting thinner by the day, and he’s very yellow.
18777.68 Indeed, it’s pitiful to see Father Salví. He wouldn’t even touch the second cup of hot chocolate, nor try the Cebú pastries: he paced
18786.76 thoughtfully around the spacious living room, crumpling in his bony hands some letters that he reads from time to time. Finally, he called for his carriage,
18795.64 got dressed, and ordered to be taken to the forest where the fateful tree was located, near which the picnic was being held.
18804.12 Once there, Father Salví dispatched his vehicle and headed into the forest alone.
18810.2 A shady path winds laboriously through the thicket and leads to a stream, formed by several hot springs like many on
18818.6 the slopes of Makiling. Its banks are adorned with wild flowers, many of which have not yet received Latin names, but
18826.84 are undoubtedly already known to the golden insects, the butterflies of all sizes and colors, blue and gold, white and black, variegated,
18836.28 brilliant, opaque, carrying rubies and emeralds on their wings, and
18841.4 the thousands of beetles with metallic sheens, dusted with fine gold. The buzzing of these insects, the chirping of the cicada
18849.36 that disturbs day and night, the song of the bird, or the dry sound of the rotten branch that falls, catching everywhere, are the only
18858.56 that disturb the silence of that mysterious place. For some time he wandered among the thick vines, avoiding the
18865.56 thorns that grabbed him by his gingham habit as if to stop him, the tree roots that emerged from the ground, causing
18873.36 the unaccustomed walker to stumble every moment. He suddenly stopped: joyful laughter and fresh voices reached his ears, and the
18883.04 laughter came from the stream and came closer and closer. « I’m going to see if I can find a nest, » said a beautiful and sweet voice
18891.712 that the priest knew. « I would like to see him without him seeing me, I would like to
18897.072 follow him everywhere. » Father Salví hid behind the thick trunk of a tree and began to listen.
18902.992 « So you want to do to him what the priest does to you, who watches you everywhere? » replied a cheerful voice. « Be careful
18910.952 , jealousy makes one weak and hollow-eyed! » « No, it’s not jealousy, it’s pure curiosity! » replied the silver voice,
18919.432 while the cheerful one repeated, « Yes, jealousy, jealousy! » and laughed aloud.
18925.112 « If I were jealous, instead of making myself invisible, I’d make him invisible so that no one could see him.
18931.032  » « But you wouldn’t see him either, and that’s not right. The best thing would be if we find the nest, we give it to the priest: that way he can watch
18938.912 us without us having to see him, don’t you think?  » « I don’t believe in herons’ nests, » replied another voice; « but
18947.592 if I were ever jealous, I’d know how to watch and make myself invisible…  » « And how? How? Perhaps like Sister Listen? »
18955.192 This schoolgirl memory provoked joyful laughter. « You know how to trick Sister Listen! »
18961.752 From his hiding place, Father Salví saw María Clara, Victoria, and
18966.872 Sinang cruising the river. The three of them were walking with their eyes on the mirror of the waters, searching for the mysterious heron’s nest: they were wet
18976.552 up to their knees, revealing the graceful curves of their legs in the wide folds of their bathing skirts. They wore their hair
18983.072 loose and their arms bare, their busts covered by a shirt with wide stripes and cheerful colors. The three young women, while searching for the
18991.312 impossible, were gathering flowers and vegetables that grew on the bank. The religious Actaeon gazed pale and motionless at that modest
18999.072 Diana: his eyes, shining in their dark orbits, never tired
19004.192 of admiring those white and well-shaped arms, that elegant neck with the beginning of the breast; The tiny, rosy feet
19012.512 playing in the water awakened strange sensations in his impoverished being and made his ardent brain dream of new ideas.
19021.912 Behind a bend in the stream, among thick reeds, those sweet figures disappeared, and their cruel
19030.872 allusions could no longer be heard. Drunk, hesitant, covered in sweat, Father Salví emerged from his hiding place and looked around with wild eyes. He stood
19040.592 still, doubtful; he took a few steps as if trying to follow the young women, but he turned back and, walking along the bank, tried to find the
19049.632 rest of the procession. Some distance away, he saw in the middle of the stream a kind of
19055.512 bath, well fenced, its roof formed by a leafy reed bed: from
19062.112 it came joyful and feminine sounds. It was adorned with palm leaves, flowers, and banners. Further on, he saw a cane bridge and, in the distance,
19072.152 men bathing, while a crowd of servants bustled around improvised kalanes, busy plucking
19080.832 chickens, washing rice, roasting suckling pig, etc. And there, on the opposite bank,
19087.072 in a clearing they had made, many men and women were gathered under a canvas roof, hung partly from the branches of
19094.312 ancient trees, partly from newly erected stakes. There were the second lieutenant, the coadjutor, the governor, the lieutenant major,
19103.632 the schoolteacher, and many former captains and lieutenants, even
19109.432 Captain Basilio, Sinang’s father, an old adversary of the late Don Rafael in an old dispute. Ibarra had told him: We are discussing
19118.952 a right, and discussing does not mean being enemies. And the famous orator of the conservatives enthusiastically accepted the invitation,
19127.664 sending three turkeys and placing his servants at the young man’s disposal.
19132.824 The priest was received with respect and deference by all, even by the ensign. « But where does Your Reverence come from? » he asked, seeing
19142.024 his face covered in scratches and his habit covered with leaves and pieces of dry twigs. « Has Your Reverence fallen?
19149.464  » « No, I’ve strayed! » replied Father Salví, lowering his eyes to examine his attire.
19155.824 Flasks of lemonade were opened, green coconuts were split open so that those emerging from the bath could drink the fresh water and eat the tender flesh,
19165.184 whiter than milk; the young women also received a rosary of sampagas, interspersed with roses and ilang-ilang, which perfumed
19175.104 their flowing hair. They sat or reclined in hammocks suspended from the branches, or amused themselves by playing around a
19183.464 wide rock, on which were scattered cards, boards, small books, sigüeyes, and small stones.
19189.744 They showed the priest the alligator, but he seemed distracted and only paid attention when they told him that
19197.584 Ibarra had made that wide wound. Otherwise, it was impossible to see the famous and unknown pilot; he had already disappeared before the second lieutenant’s arrival.
19206.104 Finally, María Clara emerged from the bath, accompanied by her friends, fresh as a rose on its first morning when the dew shines
19213.904 with diamond sparkles on its divine petals. Her first smile was for Crisóstomo, and the first cloud of sunshine on her forehead was for Father
19222.184 Salví. He noticed and didn’t sigh. The time for dinner arrived. The priest, the assistant priest, the second lieutenant, the
19230.344 governor, and several other captains with the lieutenant-chief sat at a table presided over by Ibarra. The mothers did not allow
19238.824 any men to eat at the young women’s table. « This time, Albino, you’re not inventing holes like in the pews, »
19246.2 León said to the ex-seminarian. « What? What’s that? » the old women asked. « The pews, ladies, were as whole as this plate, »
19254.88 León explained. « Jesus! » Aunt Isabel exclaimed, smiling. « Do you know anything now, Second Lieutenant, about the criminal who mistreated
19262.8 Father Dámaso? » Friar Salví asked him at the meal. « What criminal, Father Priest? » the second lieutenant asked, looking at the
19271.0 friar through the glass of wine he was emptying. « Whose could it be? » « The one who hit Father Dámaso
19278.28 on the road the day before yesterday afternoon!  » « He hit Father Dámaso? » several voices asked. The assistant priest seemed to smile.
19284.2 « Yes, and Father Dámaso is now in bed! It is believed to be the same Elías who threw you into the puddle, Ensign. »
19292.28 The Ensign turned red with embarrassment or wine. « Well, I thought, » Father Salví continued with a certain mockery, « that
19300.64 you knew about the matter… that the Ensign of the Civil Guard… » The soldier bit his lip and stammered a foolish excuse.
19308.0 At this point, a pale, thin, shabbily dressed woman appeared;
19313.8 no one had seen her coming, for she walked silently and made so little noise that at night she would have been taken for a ghost.
19321.08 « Give that poor woman something to eat! » the old women said. « Hey! Come here! »
But she continued on her way and approached the table where the
19330.4 priest was sitting. He turned around, recognized her, and dropped the knife from
19336.12 his hand. « Give this woman something to eat! » Ibarra ordered. « The night is dark, and children are disappearing! » the beggar woman murmured.
19344.12 But at the sight of the second lieutenant who addressed her, the woman became
19349.32 frightened and ran off, disappearing into the trees. « Who is that? » she asked. « An unfortunate woman who has been driven mad by fright and
19358.016 pain! » Don Filipo replied. « She has been like this for four days.  » « Is she perhaps a certain Sisa? » Ibarra asked with interest.
19366.416 « Your soldiers have arrested her, » the lieutenant-chief continued with some bitterness. « They have taken her all over the town for some unknown
19374.256 reason concerning her children that… they have not been able to clarify. » « What? » asked the ensign, turning to the priest. « Is she perhaps the
19382.616 mother of your two sacristans? » The priest nodded. “They’ve disappeared without anything being discovered about them!” added
19389.976 Don Filipo sternly, looking at the gobernadorcillo, who lowered his eyes.
19395.056 “Seek out that woman!” Crisóstomo ordered the servants. “I have promised
19400.496 to work to discover the whereabouts of her children… ” “You say they’ve disappeared?” asked the ensign. “Have your
19407.456 sacristans disappeared, Father Curé? ” He drained the glass of wine he had in front of him and nodded in
19414.536 agreement. “Good heavens, Father Curé!” exclaimed the ensign with a mocking laugh, joyful
19420.616 at the thought of revenge; “some of Chapter 25.
19425.816 R.’s pesos have disappeared, and my sergeant is woken up very early to go and search for them.” Two sacristans disappear, and Your Excellency doesn’t say anything, and you,
19436.576 Captain… It’s also true that you… And he didn’t finish his sentence, but instead burst out laughing, dipping his spoon
19443.736 into the red flesh of a wild papaya. The priest, confused and losing his mind, replied:
19451.576 « It’s that I have to answer for the money…  » « Good answer, reverend pastor of souls! » interrupted the ensign
19458.656 with his mouth full. « Good answer, holy man!  » Ibarra wanted to intervene, but Father Salví, making an effort
19465.816 within himself, replied with a forced smile: « And do you know, Ensign, what is being said about the disappearance of
19473.816 those boys? No? Well, ask your soldiers!  » « What? » he exclaimed, losing his joy.
19481.656 « It is said that several shots were fired on the night of their disappearance!  » « Several shots? » repeated the ensign, looking at those present.
19490.616 They nodded in the affirmative. Father Salví replied slowly and with cruel mockery:
19497.616 « Come on, I see that you neither catch criminals nor know what those in your household are doing, and yet you want to become a preacher and teach others their
19506.936 duty. You must know the saying: ‘The madman knows more in his own house… ‘ » « Gentlemen! » interrupted Crisóstomo, seeing that the ensign was turning
19515.176 pale; « in this regard, I would like to know what you have to say about a project of mine. I intend to entrust this madwoman to the care of a good
19525.096 doctor, and in the meantime, with your help and advice, look for her children. » The return of the servants, who had been unable to find the madwoman,
19533.576 finally pacified the two enemies, turning the conversation to another subject.
19538.976 After the meal, and while tea and coffee were being served, the young and old divided themselves into several groups. Some took up the
19546.976 boards, others the cards, but the young women, curious to know the future, preferred to ask questions of the Wheel of Fortune.
19556.336 « Come on, Señor Ibarra! » shouted Captain Basilio, who was a
19561.416 little cheerful. « We have a lawsuit that’s been going on for fifteen years, and there’s no judge in the Court to decide it: let’s see if we can finish it on the board.
19569.816  » « At once and with pleasure! » replied the young man. « Just a moment, while the ensign takes his leave. »
19575.744 Upon learning of this game, all the old men who understood chess gathered around the board: the game was interesting and
19584.784 attracted even the laymen. The old women, however, surrounded the priest to converse with him about spiritual matters, but Brother
19593.104 Salví didn’t deem the place or the occasion appropriate, for he gave vague answers and his sad and somewhat irritated glances were fixed
19602.304 everywhere except on his interlocutors. The game began with great solemnity.
19607.664 « If the game ends in a draw, we’ll conclude, that’s understood, » Ibarra said. Halfway through the game, Ibarra received a telegram that made his
19617.144 eyes sparkle and his face turn pale. He put it untouched in his briefcase, but not without glancing at the group of young men, who continued
19624.864 to question Fate amid laughter and shouts. « Check to the king! » said the young man.
19630.344 Captain Basilio had no choice but to hide him behind the queen. « Check to the queen! » he repeated, threatening it with his rook,
19638.784 which was defended by a pawn. Unable to cover the queen or withdraw it because of the king
19645.744 behind him, Captain Basilio asked for time to reflect. « With pleasure! » Ibarra replied. « I had something to
19654.584 say right now to some people at that meeting. » And he stood up, granting his opponent a quarter of an hour.
19661.984 Iday had the cardboard disk on which were written forty-eight questions, Albino the book of answers.
19668.224 « Lie! It’s not true! Lie! » Sinang cried, half-tearfully. « What’s the matter with you? » María Clara asked him.
19675.784 « Imagine, I ask: When will I have my trial? » I throw the dice, and that old-fashioned priest reads in the book: « When the frog grows
19683.944 hair! » Do you think so? » And Sinang makes a face at the ex-seminarian, who continues laughing.
19690.264 « Who told you to ask that question? » his cousin Victoria tells him. « Just asking it is enough to deserve such answers! »
19696.584 « Ask! » they said to Ibarra, presenting him with the wheel. « We have decided that whoever gets the best answer would receive a gift
19705.344 from the others. We have all asked.  » « And who got the best?  » « Maria Clara, Maria Clara! » Sinang replied. « We made him ask,
19714.864 whether he wants to or not: Is his love faithful and constant? » And the book answered…
19719.904 But Maria Clara, all red-faced, covered her mouth with her hands and wouldn’t let her continue.
19725.504 « Then give me the wheel! » Crisóstomo said, smiling. « I ask: Will I succeed in my current undertaking?
19732.464  » « What an ugly question! » Sinang exclaimed. Ibarra threw the dice, and according to their number they looked for the page
19738.904 and the line. « Dreams are dreams! » Albino read. Ibarra took out the telegraph report and opened it, trembling.
19747.184 « This time, your book has lied! » he exclaimed, full of joy. « Read it! School project approved, another sentence in your favor.
19755.384  » « What does this mean? » they asked him. « Didn’t you say that we have to give something to the one who
19761.544 gets the best answer? » he asked, his voice trembling with emotion as he carefully tore the paper in two.
19768.184 « Yes! Yes!  » « Well, this is my gift, » he said, handing half to María Clara
19774.184 . « In the town I am going to build a school for boys and girls; this school will be my gift.
19780.504  » « And what does that other piece mean?  » « I will give this to the one who gets the worst answer.
19786.184  » « Well, me! Then it’s me! » cried Sinang. Ibarra gave him the paper and quickly walked away.
19792.904 « And what does this mean? » But the happy young man was already far away and was returning to his game
19798.504 of chess. Fra Salví approached the cheerful circle of
19803.944 young people as if distracted. María Clara wiped away a tear of joy. Then the laughter ceased and the conversation fell silent.
19811.52 The priest looked at the young people, unable to say a single word; they waited
19817.68 for him to speak and remained silent. « What is this? » he finally managed to ask, picking up the little book and half
19823.64 -leafing through it. « The Wheel of Fortune, a gambling book, » León replied. « Don’t you know it’s a sin to believe in these things? » he said,
19832.24 angrily tearing up the pages. Cries of surprise and disgust escaped from everyone’s lips.
19837.96 « A greater sin is to dispose of something that is not yours against the owner’s will! » Albino replied, standing up. « Father Priest, that is called
19846.28 stealing, and God and men forbid it. » María Clara clasped her hands and looked with tearful eyes at the remains of
19853.08 that book that had recently made her so happy. Contrary to the expectations of those present, Fray Salví did not reply
19859.92 to Albino. He stood watching the torn leaves flutter, some ending up in the woods, others in the water. Then he
19869.52 staggered away with both hands on his head. He stopped for a few seconds talking to Ibarra, who accompanied him to one of the carriages,
19877.76 ready to carry or convey the guests. « That joyless man is right to leave! »
19885.44 Sinang murmured. « He has a face that seems to say: Don’t laugh, I know your sins. »
19890.72 After the gift he had given his fiancée, Ibarra was so happy that he began to play without thinking or lingering.
19898.4 carefully examining the state of the pieces. The result was that, although Captain Basilio was now defending himself only with
19905.32 difficulty, the game was tied, thanks to many mistakes the young man made later.
19911.64 « We dismiss, we dismiss! » Captain Basilio said happily.
19916.8 « We dismiss! » the young man repeated, « whatever the judges’ verdict may have given. »
19922.72 They both shook hands and shook them effusively. While those present were celebrating this event, which put an end
19930.136 to a lawsuit that had already annoyed both sides, the sudden
19935.496 arrival of four Civil Guards and a sergeant, all armed and with fixed bayonets, disturbed the joy and introduced terror into
19942.856 the circle of women. « Everyone stop! » shouted the sergeant. « Shoot anyone who moves! »
19949.216 Despite this brutal boast, Ibarra got up and approached him. « What do you want? » he asked.
19955.216 « That you hand over to us right now a criminal named Elías, who was serving as their pilot this morning, » he answered in a threatening tone.
19962.816 « A criminal? The pilot? You must be mistaken! »
19967.976 Ibarra replied. « No, sir: this Elías is once again accused of having laid his hand on a priest…
19973.656  » « Oh! And is that the pilot?  » « The same one, according to what we’re told. You admit people
19981.656 of ill repute to your festivities, Señor Ibarra.  » Ibarra looked him up and down and answered with supreme contempt:
19988.976 « I don’t have to give you an account of my actions! At our festivities everyone is welcome, and if you had
19996.936 come, you yourself would have found a place at the table, like your lieutenant, who was among us two hours ago. »
20005.696 And with that, he turned his back on him. The sergeant bit his mustache, and considering it to be his
20013.136 weakest part, ordered them to search everywhere and among the trees for the
20018.336 pilot whose address they had on a piece of paper. Don Filipo said to him:
20024.576 « Note that those address correspond to nine-tenths of the natives; don’t make a false step! »
20033.016 Finally, the soldiers returned, saying they hadn’t been able to see a single bench or any man who might have aroused suspicion. The sergeant stammered
20040.976 a few words and left as he had come. Little by little, joy returned, questions rained down, and
20048.776 comments abounded. « So that’s the Elías who threw the second lieutenant into a puddle! »
20054.056 León said thoughtfully. « And how did that happen? How did it happen? » some curious onlookers asked.  »
20059.496 They say that in September, on a very rainy day, the second lieutenant met a man carrying firewood. » The street was
20066.696 very muddy, and only at the edge was a narrow passage passable by one person. They say that the ensign, instead of halting
20074.896 his horse, spurred his horse, shouting at the man to turn back. The man seemed to have little desire to retrace his steps because of the load
20083.376 he was carrying on his shoulder, or he didn’t want to sink into the puddle, and continued onward. The ensign, irritated, tried to run him over, but the man
20092.056 grabbed a piece of wood and hit the horse on the head with such force that the horse fell, dragging its rider into the mud. They also say
20099.616 that the man continued calmly on his way, ignoring the five bullets that the ensign, blinded by fury and mud, fired at him one after the other from the puddle
20108.736 . Since the man was completely unknown to him, it was assumed that he was the famous Elías, who had arrived in the province
20115.856 some months earlier, from unknown where, and who had made himself known to the civil guards of some villages for similar deeds.
20123.856 « Is he, then, a tulisán? » Victoria asked, shuddering. « I don’t believe it, because they say he once fought against the
20131.696 tulisáns who were looting a house.  » « He doesn’t have the face of a criminal! » Sinang added.
20136.976 « No, only his gaze is very sad: I haven’t seen him smile all morning, » María Clara replied thoughtfully.
20143.616 Thus the afternoon passed, and it was time to return to the village. In the last rays of the dying sun, they left the forest, passing in
20151.216 silence near the mysterious tomb of Ibarra’s ancestor. Then
20156.248 the cheerful conversations resumed, lively and full of color, under those branches, unaccustomed to hearing so many
20164.968 accents. The trees seemed sad; the vines swayed as if to say: « Farewell, youth! Farewell, a day’s dream! »
20174.568 And now, by the light of the reddish, gigantic cane torches and to the sound of the guitars, let us leave them on their way to the
20182.768 village. The groups thin out, the lights go out, the singing ceases,
20188.088 the guitar falls silent as they approach the dwellings of the men. Put on your masks, for you are once again among your
20196.808 brothers! Chapter 26. AT THE PHILOSOPHER’S HOUSE. Early the next morning, Juan Crisóstomo Ibarra, after
20204.928 visiting his lands, went to the house of old Tasio. Complete tranquility reigned in the garden, for the swallows,
20213.048 fluttering around the eaves, made hardly a sound. Moss grew on the old wall where a kind of ivy climbed,
20221.088 bordering the windows. That little house seemed like a mansion of silence. Ibarra carefully tied his horse to a post and, walking almost on
20230.448 tiptoe, crossed the clean and scrupulously maintained garden.
20235.928 He climbed the stairs and, since the door was open, entered. The first thing that met his eyes was the old man, bent over a
20243.688 book in which he seemed to be writing. On the walls were collections of insects and leaves, among maps and old shelves full of books
20251.208 and manuscripts. The old man was so absorbed in his occupation that he only noticed the young man’s arrival
20257.328 when the latter, not wanting to disturb him, tried to withdraw. « How were you there? » he asked, looking at Ibarra with some
20265.728 surprise. « Excuse me, » he replied, « I see you’re very busy. » « Indeed, I was writing a little, but it’s not urgent, and I want to rest.
20274.312 May I be of any use to you?  » « A lot! » Ibarra replied, approaching; « but… »
20280.192 And he glanced at the book on the table. « What? » he exclaimed in surprise; « are you dedicated to deciphering
20287.112 hieroglyphics?  » « No! » the old man replied, offering him a chair; « I don’t understand
20292.192 Egyptian or even Coptic, but I understand the
20297.272 writing system somewhat, and I write in hieroglyphics.  » « Do you write in hieroglyphics? And why? » the young man asked,
20302.712 doubting what he was seeing and hearing. « So they can’t read me now! » Ibarra stared at him, wondering if the old man was in
20311.152 fact crazy. He quickly examined the book to see if this was true and saw well-drawn animals, circles, semicircles,
20320.352 flowers, feet , hands, arms, etc. « And why do you write if you don’t want to be read? » « Because
20327.912 I don’t write for this generation, I write for other ages. If this one could read me, it would burn my books, the work of my entire
20336.512 life; on the other hand, the generation that deciphers these characters will be an educated generation; they will understand me and say: Not everyone slept through the
20345.392 night of our grandparents! The mystery or these curious characters will save my work from the ignorance of men, just as mystery and
20353.672 strange rites have saved many truths from the destructive priestly classes.
20359.352  » « And in what language do you write? » Ibarra asked after a pause. « In ours, in Tagalog.
20365.912  » « And are hieroglyphic symbols useful? » –If it weren’t for the difficulty of the drawing, which demands time and
20372.592 patience, I would almost say that they are better than the Latin alphabet. Ancient Egyptian had our vowels; our o, which is only
20382.016 final and is not like the Spanish, but an intermediate vowel between
20387.176 oyu; like us, Egyptian had no true e sound;
20392.376 we find in it our ha and our kha, which we don’t have in the Latin alphabet as we use it in Spanish. For example: in this
20401.256 word mukhâ,–he added, pointing in the book,–I transcribe the syllable ha more properly with this fish figure than with the Latin h, which
20409.456 in Europe is pronounced in different ways. For another aspiration Less strongly, for example, in this word hain, where the h is
20418.776 less strong, I use this lion’s bust, or these three
20423.856 lotus flowers depending on the number of vowels. What’s more, I have the nasal sound, which also doesn’t exist in the Spanish-language Latin alphabet. I repeat
20432.096 that if it weren’t for the difficulty of the drawing, which must be perfect, hieroglyphics could almost be adopted, but this very difficulty
20440.376 forces me to be concise and to say no more than what is necessary.
20445.856 This work also keeps me company when my guests from China and Japan leave.
20451.376 « What?  » « Can’t you hear them? My guests are the swallows;
20456.736 one is missing this year; some bad boy, Chinese or Japanese, must have caught it.
20462.056  » « How do you know they come from those countries?  » « Simply: a few years ago, before leaving, I would tie
20469.936 a piece of paper to their feet with the name of the Philippines in English, assuming they wouldn’t have to go far, and because English is spoken in almost all
20477.936 these regions. » For years my little note received no reply, until finally I had it written in a Chinese person, and lo and behold, the
20487.208 following November they returned with other little notes that I had deciphered: one was written in a Chinese person and was a greeting from the banks
20496.288 of the Hoang-ho, and the other, the Chinese person I consulted supposes, must be
20501.848 Japanese. But I am keeping you busy with these things and am not asking how I can be of use to you.
20508.328 « I came to speak to you about a matter of importance, » the young man replied. « Yesterday afternoon…
20514.968  » « Have they arrested that wretch? » the old man interrupted, full of interest. « Are you talking about Elías? How did you know?
20522.368  » « I saw the Muse of the Civil Guard.  » « The Muse of the Civil Guard! And who is this Muse?
20529.408  » « The wife of the second lieutenant, whom you did not invite to your party. Yesterday morning, news of what had happened with the alligator spread throughout the town.  » The Muse
20537.608 of the Civil Guard is as penetrating as she is malicious, and she surmised that the pilot must be the daredevil who threw her husband into the puddle
20545.888 and beat Padre Dámaso; and since she reads the reports her husband was to receive, he had scarcely arrived home, drunk and out of his mind, when
20555.888 , to wreak vengeance on you, she dispatched the sergeant and the soldiers to disturb the joy of the festivities. Take care! Eva
20564.568 was a good woman, from the hands of God… Doña Consolación,
20569.728 they say, is evil, and no one knows whose hands she came from! To be good, a woman needs to have been at least once either a maiden or a mother.
20578.728 Ibarra smiled slightly and replied, taking some papers from his briefcase:
20583.968 « My late father used to consult you on some matters, and I remember
20589.088 that all he had to do was congratulate himself on having followed your advice. I have a small undertaking on my hands, whose success I need to ensure. »
20598.384 And Ibarra briefly described the school project he had offered to his fiancée, laying out the plans he had received from Manila
20607.584 before the astonished philosopher . « I would like you to tell me who I should recruit first in
20612.664 the town to ensure the project’s success. You know the inhabitants well; I’ve just arrived, and I’m practically a foreigner in my own country.
20620.584  » Old Tasio examined the plans before him with tear-stained eyes
20626.344 . « What you’re going to accomplish was my dream, the dream of a poor madman! » he exclaimed, moved; « and now, the first thing I advise you is never
20635.704 to come and consult me ​​again.  » The young man looked at him in surprise. « Because sensible people, » he continued with bitter irony, « would consider
20643.504 you mad too. People believe those who don’t think like them to be mad; that’s why they consider me such, and I’m grateful for it, because woe betide
20651.824 me! The day they try to restore my sanity, That day they would deprive me of the small amount of freedom I had bought at the cost of my reputation
20660.504 for being reasonable. And who knows if they are right? I do not think or live according to their laws; my principles, my ideals are different. The little governor enjoys a reputation for being reasonable
20669.464 among them because, having learned nothing more than to serve hot chocolate and suffer the bad temper of Padre Dámaso,
20678.424 Now he’s rich, he troubles the petty destinies of his fellow citizens, and sometimes he even talks about justice. That’s the man of talent!
20686.304 the common people think; look, he hasn’t become great with anything! But I, I have
20691.344 inherited fortune, consideration, I have studied, and now I am poor;
20696.784 they haven’t entrusted me with even the most ridiculous position, and everyone says: That’s a madman; he doesn’t understand life! The priest calls me a philosopher by nickname,
20705.904 and implies that I am a charlatan who boasts about what he learned in the university classrooms, when that is precisely what is of least
20713.584 use to me. Perhaps I am truly the madman and they are the sane ones;
20719.712 who can say? And the old man shook his head as if to dispel a thought and
20724.792 continued: « What I can also advise you is to consult the priest, the
20729.952 little governor, all the people of position: they will give you bad, clumsy, or useless advice, but consulting does not
20739.472 mean obeying; You should appear to follow them whenever possible and make it clear that you are acting in accordance with them.
20745.752 Ibarra reflected for a moment and then replied: « The advice is good, but difficult to follow. Could I not carry
20754.832 out my idea without a shadow being cast upon it? Could not goodness make its way through everything, and that truth need not
20761.912 borrow clothing from error?  » « No one loves the naked truth for that reason! » the old man replied. « That is
20768.792 good in theory, feasible in the world that youth dreams of. There is the schoolmaster who has been agitated in the void; the heart of a child
20776.872 who desired good and only received mockery and laughter. You have told me that you are a foreigner in your country, and I believe it. From the first day of your
20785.472 arrival, you began by wounding the pride of a religious man, who has the reputation of being a saint among the people and a wise man among his own. God
20794.912 grant that this step has not determined your future. » Do not think that because the Dominicans and Augustinians look with disdain on the gingham habit
20803.552 [91], the cord, and the indecent footwear; because a great doctor of Saint Thomas once recalled
20812.192 that Pope Innocent III had described the statutes of this order as more suitable for swine than for men, that they do not all join hands to affirm what a
20821.752 procurator once said: The most insignificant layman is powerful enough to do more than the government with all its soldiers. Cave ne cadas [92].
20830.44 Gold is very powerful; the golden calf has often knocked God down from his altars,
20837.72 even since the time of Moses. « I am not so pessimistic, nor do I consider life in my country so dangerous, » Ibarra replied, smiling. « I believe that these fears are a little
20846.96 exaggerated, and I hope to be able to carry out all my plans without encountering great resistance from that quarter.
20853.32  » « Yes, if they extend their hand; no, if they withdraw it. » All your efforts would be dashed against the walls of the
20862.68 parish house with only a wave of the friar’s cord or a shake of his habit; the mayor, under any pretext, would deny you tomorrow what he has
20871.28 granted today; no mother would allow her son to attend school,
20876.76 and then all your efforts would have a counterproductive effect: they would discourage those who later wanted to attempt generous enterprises.
20885.88 « However, » replied the young man, « I cannot believe in this power you speak of, and even supposing it, admitting it, I would still have on my side the
20895.16 sensible people, the government that is animated by very good intentions, has great aims, and sincerely wants the good of the Philippines.
20904.44  » « The government! The government! » murmured the philosopher, raising his eyes to look at the ceiling. « No matter how animated it may be by the desire to
20912.0 make the country great for its own benefit and for the mother country, Even
20917.4 though the generous spirit of the Catholic Monarchs may still remind some officials and they may think it alone, the government does not
20926.72 see, does not hear, does not judge anything other than what the
20932.24 priest or the provincial makes it see, hear and judge; it is convinced that it only relies on them,
20937.28 that if it sustains itself it is because they support it, that if it lives it is because they allow it to live and the day they are gone, it will fall.
20946.28 like a mannequin that has lost its support. The government is intimidated by the idea of ​​raising the people, and the people with the forces of the government: from
20955.2 this originates a simple game that resembles what happens to the
20960.64 fearful when visiting gloomy places: they mistake their own shadows for ghosts
20966.24 and their own echoes for strange voices. As long as the government does not come to an understanding with the country, it will not escape this tutelage; it will live like those
20976.0 imbecile young people who tremble at the voice of their tutor, whose condescension they beg for. The government does not dream of any robust future; it is an arm;
20985.72 the head is the convent, and because of this inertia with which it allows itself to be dragged
20990.88 from abyss to abyss, it becomes a shadow, its entity disappears, and, weak and incapable, it entrusts everything to mercenary hands. « Compare,
21000.12 if not, our system of government with that of the countries you have visited…
21005.8  » « Oh! » interrupted Ibarra; « that is asking too much. Let us be content with seeing that our people do not complain or suffer like the people of
21013.0 other countries, and that is thanks to religion and the benignity of their rulers.
21018.52  » « The people do not complain because they have no voice, they do not move because they are lethargic, and you say that they do not suffer because they have not seen what
21027.56 their hearts bleed. But one day you will see it and hear it, and woe
21033.4 to those who base their strength on ignorance or fanaticism! woe to those who revel in deception and work at night believing that
21040.6 everyone is asleep! » When the light of day illuminates the abortion of shadows, the horrific reaction will come: so much force, compressed for centuries,
21049.32 so much poison distilled drop by drop, so many stifled sighs will come
21054.88 to light and explode… Who will then pay those accounts that the
21060.96 people present from time to time and that History preserves for us in its bloody pages?
21067.16 « God, the government, and religion will not allow that day to come! » replied Crisóstomo, impressed despite himself.
21074.424 « The Philippines is religious and loves Spain; the Philippines will know how much the
21080.344 nation does for it. There are abuses, yes, there are defects, I will not deny it, but Spain
21085.464 works to introduce reforms to correct them, it matures projects, it is not selfish.
21091.584  » « I know, and this is the worst of it. » Reforms that come from above are nullified in the lower spheres, thanks to the vices of all,
21099.864 thanks, for example, to the greedy desire to get rich quickly and to the ignorance of the people who tolerate everything. Abuses are not
21108.344 corrected by a royal decree as long as a zealous authority does not oversee their execution, as long as freedom of speech is not granted against
21117.624 the excesses of petty tyrants: projects remain projects,
21122.984 abuses remain abuses, and the minister, satisfied, will sleep more peacefully,
21128.024 however. Furthermore, if a high-ranking figure comes along with great and generous ideas, he soon begins to hear, while behind
21137.344 his back they consider him a madman: Your Excellency doesn’t know the country, Your Excellency doesn’t know the character of the indigenous people, Your Excellency is going to lose them, Your Excellency would do
21147.984 well to trust so-and-so, etc. And since Your Excellency didn’t
21154.304 really know the country, which until now he had placed in America, and also has defects and weaknesses like any human being, he lets himself
21161.984 be convinced. His Excellency also remembers that to obtain the position, he had to sweat a lot and suffer even more, that he only has it for
21171.144 three years, that he is getting old and it is necessary not to think about quixotic tricks
21177.184 but about his future: a small hotel in Madrid, a small house in the country
21182.504 , and a good income to live in luxury at court; this is what he should have sought in the Philippines. Let us not ask for miracles, let us not ask that
21190.824 someone who comes as a foreigner to make his fortune and then leave, be interested in the good of the country.
21196.32 What does he care about the gratitude or the curses of a people he does not know, where he does not have his
21204.32 memories, where he does not have his loves? Glory, to be pleasing, must resound in the ears of those we love, in the atmosphere
21213.52 of our home or of the country that will guard our ashes:
21219.0 we want glory to sit over our tomb to warm with its rays the cold of death, so that we are not
21226.64 completely reduced to nothing, but that something of us remains. We cannot promise any of this to those who come to look after our destinies. And the
21236.28 worst of all is that they leave when they begin to understand their duty. But we are straying from our subject.
21242.6 « No, before returning to it, I need to clarify certain things, » the young man interrupted briskly. « I can grant that the
21250.08 government ignores the people, but I believe that the people know the government even less. There are useless officials—bad ones, if you will—
21257.88 but there are also good ones, and if these can’t do anything, it’s because they are faced with an inert mass: the population, which takes little
21266.24 part in the things that concern it. But I didn’t come to argue with you on this point: I came to ask your advice, and you
21275.16 tell me to bow my head before grotesque idols.  » « Yes, and I repeat, because here you have to bow your head or let it fall.  »
21284.24 « Should I lower my head or let it fall? » Ibarra repeated thoughtfully. « It ‘s a difficult dilemma! But why? Is love for my
21292.824 country incompatible with love for Spain? Is it necessary to lower oneself to be a good Christian, to prostitute one’s conscience in order to achieve a good
21301.744 goal? I love my country, the Philippines, because I owe my life and my happiness to it, and because every man should love his country; I love Spain,
21312.264 the country of my ancestors, because, despite everything, the Philippines owes and will owe its happiness and its future to it; I am a Catholic, I keep the faith of my fathers pure
21322.744 , and I don’t see why I should lower my head when I can raise it, and hand it over to my enemies when I can trample them underfoot. »
21331.344 « Because the field where you want to sow is in the power of your enemies, and you have no strength against them… It is necessary that
21338.784 you first kiss that hand that… » But the young man did not let him continue and exclaimed, raptly:
21345.304 « Kiss! But you forget that among them they have killed my father,
21350.624 they have thrown him from his grave… but I, who am the son, do not forget, and if I do not avenge you, it is because I look out for the prestige of religion.
21359.104  » The old philosopher lowered his head. « Mr. Ibarra, » he replied slowly, « if you retain those memories,
21366.464 memories which I cannot advise you to forget, abandon the enterprise you are attempting and seek the good of your countrymen elsewhere. The enterprise
21374.744 calls for another man because, to carry it out, one not only needs to have money and desire; in our country, self-denial,
21384.224 tenacity, and faith are also required, because the ground is not prepared; it is sown only with discord. »
21389.944 Ibarra understood the value of these words, but he must not be discouraged; The memory of Maria Clara was in his mind: it was
21397.184 necessary to carry out his offer. « Does your experience not suggest more than this harsh means? » he asked in a
21403.584 low voice. The old man took him by the arm and led him to the window. A fresh wind,
21409.496 a precursor to the north, was blowing; before his eyes stretched the garden,
21415.496 bordered by the extensive wood that served as a park. « Why should we not do what that weak stem, laden with roses
21422.176 and buds, does? » said the philosopher, pointing to a beautiful rosebush. « The wind
21427.576 blows, shakes it, and it bends as if hiding its precious burden. If
21432.936 the stem were to remain straight, it would break, the wind would scatter the flowers, and the buds would be ruined. The wind passes, and the stem
21441.936 rises again, proud with its treasure: who will accuse it of
21447.696 having yielded to necessity? There, see that gigantic kupang [93], majestically moving its airy foliage where the
21455.536 eagle nests. I brought it from the forest, a weak plant; With thin reeds I supported its stem for months. If I had brought it large and full of life,
21463.736 it would certainly not have lived here: the wind would have shaken it before its roots could take root in the ground, before the ground
21473.216 could firm around it and provide the proper support for its size and height. This is how you will end up, a plant transplanted from Europe
21481.656 to this stony soil, if you do not seek support and become small. You are in poor condition, alone, elevated: the ground wavers, the sky
21491.576 announces a storm, and the tops of his family’s trees have proven to attract lightning. It is not courage, but temerity, to fight alone against
21501.376 all that exists; no one blames the pilot who takes refuge in a port
21506.856 at the first gust of a storm. To get out when the bullet passes is not cowardice; what is wrong is to defy it, only to fall and never get up again.
21516.072 « And would this sacrifice produce the fruits I hope for? » Ibarra asked. « Would the priest believe in me and forget his grievance? Would
21523.832 they openly help me for the benefit of the education that competes with the convents for the country’s riches? Can’t they feign friendship,
21530.872 appear to protect him, and from behind, in the shadows, fight him, undermine him, strike him in the heel to make him falter more quickly than
21539.992 attacking him head-on? Given the background you suppose, anything can be expected.  »
21546.232 The old man remained silent, unable to answer. He thought for a while and replied:
21552.352 « If such a thing were to happen, if the enterprise were to fail, you would be consoled by the thought of having done everything in your power, and even so,
21561.912 something would have been gained: laying the first stone, sowing, after the storm breaks, some seed may perhaps germinate, survive
21571.552 the catastrophe, save the crop from destruction, and later serve as seed for the children of the dead sower. The example may
21578.952 encourage others who are only afraid to begin. » Ibarra considered these reasons, saw his situation, and understood that,
21587.272 with all his pessimism, the old man was quite right. « I believe you! » he exclaimed, shaking his hand. « It was not in vain
21595.152 that I hoped for good advice. Today I will go and speak to the priest, who, after all, has done me no harm and must be good,
21604.872 since not all of them are like my father’s persecutor. » I also have to appeal to you on behalf of that unfortunate madwoman and her children: I trust
21613.592 in God and in men. He said goodbye to the old man and, mounting his horse, departed.
21619.112 « Attention! » murmured the pessimistic philosopher, following him with his eyes; let us observe carefully how fate will unfold the comedy that began
21628.632 in the cemetery. This time he was truly mistaken: the comedy had begun
21634.752 long before. Chapter 27. THE EVE OF THE FEAST It is November 10th, the eve of the feast.
21642.536 Breaking away from the usual monotony, the town is engaged in incomparable activity
21647.576 in the house, in the street, in the church, in the cockpit, and in the countryside: the windows are covered with flags and damasks of various
21656.016 colors; the space is filled with explosions and music; the air is
21661.776 impregnated and saturated with rejoicing. Various preserves of local fruits are arranged in gaily colored
21667.696 glass jars by the dalaga on a small table, which is covered with a white embroidered tablecloth. In the courtyard, chickens squawk, hens
21676.736 cluck, pigs grunt, frightened by the joys of the people. Servants go up and down carrying gilded dishes and silverware: here they
21686.456 quarrel over a broken plate, there they laugh at the simple peasant woman: everywhere they command, whisper, shout, make comments,
21695.336 conjecture, and no one encourages one another, and everything is confusion, noise, and
21700.856 bustle. And all this effort and all this effort is for the guest, known or unknown; it is to entertain some person who
21709.256 perhaps has never been seen before, nor will be seen again later; so that the stranger, the foreigner, the friend, the enemy, the Filipino,
21719.296 the Spaniard, the poor, the rich, all leave happy and satisfied.
21725.176 They are not even asked for gratitude, nor are they expected to do harm to the hospitable family during or after digestion. The rich,
21733.176 those who have been to Manila at some point and have seen more than the others, have bought beer, champagne, liqueurs, wines, and foodstuffs
21742.256 from Europe, of which they will barely taste a mouthful or drink a sip. Their
21747.536 table is gallantly set. In the middle is a large artificial pineapple, very well imitated, into which are stuck
21755.256 toothpicks, elaborately cut by the prisoners during their hours of rest.
21761.064 Already in the picture are a fan, a bouquet of flowers, a bird, a rose, a palm tree or some chains, all carved from a single
21769.624 piece of wood: the artist is a forced one, the instrument is a bad knife and the inspiration the voice of the baton maker. –On the sides of this
21778.584 pineapple, which is called a palillera, rise on glass fruit bowls, pyramids of oranges, lanzones, ates, chicory and even sleeves [94] despite
21789.704 it being November. Then, on wide platters, on openwork papers painted in brilliant colors, are presented hams from
21798.704 Europe, China, a large cake in the form of Agnus Dei or a dove, the Holy Spirit perhaps, stuffed turkeys, etc., and between these
21807.984 the appetizers are jars of acharas [95] with fanciful designs,
21813.344 made of the bonga flower and other vegetables and fruits, artistically cut and stuck with syrup to the sides of the decanters.
21821.824 The glass globes, passed down from father to son, are cleaned; the copper rings are made to shine; the
21830.424 kerosene lamps are stripped of their red covers, which keep them free of flies and mosquitoes for the year and render them useless; the
21838.904 prismatic glass beads and pendants sway, clash harmoniously, sing,
21844.144 seeming to take part in the celebration, rejoicing and breaking the light,
21849.264 reflecting the colors of the rainbow on the white wall. The children play, have fun, chase colors, trip, break tubes,
21858.384 but this doesn’t prevent the joy of the celebration from continuing: at another
21863.424 time of year, the tears in their round eyes would tell a different story . Just as these venerable lamps emerge,
21871.808 the young woman’s handiwork also emerges from its hiding places: crocheted veils, rugs,
21878.648 artificial flowers; Ancient glass trays appear, their bottoms depicting
21884.088 a miniature lake with small fish, alligators, mollusks, seaweed, corals,
21889.848 and brightly colored glass rocks. These trays are covered with cigars, cigarettes, and tiny buyos, twisted by the delicate fingers of
21899.208 the single women. The floor of the house shines like a mirror; piña or jusi curtains [96] adorn the doors; glass or paper
21910.168 lanterns in pink, blue, green, or red hang from the windows ; the house is filled with
21916.168 flowers and flowerpots placed on pedestals of Chinese earthenware; even the saints are adorned; images and relics are dressed up for
21925.488 celebration; the dust is shaken off, their windows are cleaned, and bouquets of flowers hang from their frames.
21932.528 Along the streets, from time to time, rise whimsical arches of carved cane in a thousand ways, called sinkaban, surrounded by kalushús
21941.928 [97], the mere sight of which gladdens the hearts of the young people. Surrounding the church courtyard is the large and expensive awning, supported
21951.528 by cane trunks, for the procession to pass through. Beneath it, the children play, run, climb, jump, and tear the new shirts they
21959.528 were supposed to wear on the day of the festival. Over there, in the plaza, the stage has been erected, a stage made of cane,
21966.808 nipa, and wood: there, the comedy of Tondo will perform wonders and compete with the gods in improbable miracles; there
21976.528 , Marianito, Chananay, Balbino, Ratia, Carvajal, Yeyeng, Liceria, etc., will sing and dance
21983.008 . The Filipino loves the theater and attends dramatic performances with passion; he listens silently to the singing, admires the dancing and mime,
21991.048 and doesn’t whistle, but neither does he applaud. Doesn’t he like the performance? Then he chews his buyo or leaves without disturbing the others who perhaps find
22000.408 pleasure in it. Only occasionally do the common people howl when the playwrights kiss or embrace the actresses, but it never goes any further. In the
22009.808 past, only dramas were performed; the town poet would compose a play that necessarily had to have fights every two
22018.528 minutes, a joke, and terrifying metamorphoses. But since
22024.168 the artists of Tondo began to fight every fifteen seconds, they had two jokes and got into even more improbable things, they killed
22033.968 their provincial colleagues. The little governor was fond of it,
22039.368 and in agreement with the priest, he chose the comedy: Prince Villardo or the Slaves Torn from the Infamous Cave, a play with magic and
22047.968 Fireworks. From time to time, the bells ring joyfully, those same
22054.248 bells that had tolled so sadly ten days before. Wheels of fire and mortars thunder in the air: the Filipino pyrotechnician, who learned
22063.328 his art without any known teacher, is about to display his skills, preparing bulls, castles of fire with flares, paper balloons
22072.288 inflated with hot air, wheels of diamonds, bombs, rockets, etc.
22078.128 Do distant chords resonate? For the boys are already running hastily toward the outskirts of town to welcome
22084.968 the marching bands. There are five hired bands, in addition to three orchestras. The music from Pagsanghan, the property of the notary,
22092.728 must not be missing, nor that from the SP de T. village, famous then because it
22098.728 was conducted by Maestro Austria, the vagabond Corporal Mariano, who,
22103.968 they say, brings fame and harmony to the debut of his baton. The musicians praise his funeral march, El Sauce, and deplore the fact that they had no
22112.568 musical training, for with their genius they would have brought glory to their country. The band enters the town playing cheerful marches, followed by
22121.344 ragged or half-naked boys: some wearing their brother’s shirt, some their father’s trousers. As soon as the music has stopped,
22130.624 they know it by heart, hum it, whistle it with a strange intonation, and give their opinion.
22135.704 Meanwhile, relatives, friends, strangers, and gamblers arrive in wagons, carriages, or cars with their best roosters,
22144.504 carrying sacks of gold, ready to risk their fortunes on the green baize or inside the cockpit.
22151.784 « The ensign earns fifty pesos a night! » a short, plump man murmurs in the ear of the newcomers. Captain Tiago is about
22160.024 to come and set up a bank; Captain Joaquín is bringing eighteen thousand. There will be liam pó: the Chinese man Carlos is putting it up with a capital of ten thousand. From Tanauan,
22170.224 Lipa, and Batangas, as well as from Santa Cruz, come big points. It’s going to
22175.264 be big! It’s going to be big! But here’s some chocolate. This year Captain Tiago won’t be peeling us, like last year: he has only paid for
22184.104 three masses of grace, and I have a mutyâ [98] of cocoa. And how is the family?
22190.304 « Well, well! Thank you! » the strangers answered. « And Father Dámaso?
22195.624  » « Father Dámaso will preach in the morning and will work with us at night.
22200.824  » « Better, better! There’s no danger then!  » « Safe, we’re safe! » The Chinese man Carlos lets out, too!
22209.664 And the plump man makes a gesture with his fingers, like someone counting coins.
22214.808 Outside the village, the mountaineers, the Kasama, put on their best
22219.968 clothes to take well-fed hens , wild boars, deer, and birds to the houses of the capitalist partners; some load
22230.088 firewood onto heavy carts, others fruit and the rarest of
22235.768 the forest-growing aerial plants; others carry broad-leaved biga [99] and
22242.648 fiery-colored tika tika [100] flowers to adorn the doors of the houses. But the greatest excitement, now bordering on tumult, is
22250.288 over there on a sort of wide plateau a few steps from Ibarra’s house . Pulleys creak, shouts are heard, the metallic sound of a
22259.968 stone being broken, a hammer driving a nail, an axe hewing
22265.728 a beam. A crowd digs the earth and opens a wide, deep ditch; Others line up stones taken from the town’s quarries,
22275.248 unload carts, pile up sand, set up winches and capstans… « Over here! Over there! Alive! » shouted an old man with a lively
22285.088 and intelligent face, who carried a copper-edged meter stick around a plumb line for a walking stick. He was the foreman,
22293.048 Ñor Juan, architect, bricklayer, carpenter, whitewasher, locksmith,
22298.208 stonecutter, and sometimes sculptor. « It must be finished right now! Tomorrow we can’t work,
22304.688 and the day after tomorrow is the ceremony! Alive!  » « Make the hole so that it fits exactly with this
22310.848 cylinder! » he said to some stonecutter who were polishing a large quadrangular stone; within this, our names will be preserved.
22319.848 And he repeated to each new stranger who approached what he had already said a thousand times. he had said.
22325.648 « Do you know what we’re going to build? Well, it’s a school, a model of its kind, like those in Germany, or better yet! The plan was drawn up by the
22334.328 architect Señor R. , and I—I’m supervising the work! Yes, sir, look, this
22340.656 is going to be a palace with two wings: one for the boys and one for the girls. Here in the middle is a large garden with three fountains; there, on the
22349.176 sides, groves, small vegetable gardens so the children can plant and cultivate plants during recess hours, making the most of their time and not
22357.696 wasting it. See how deep the foundations are! Three meters sixty -five centimeters! The building is going to have cellars, underground passages,
22367.336 cells for the lazy ones, close, very close to the games and the gymnasium so that the punished can hear how the diligent ones
22374.576 are having fun. Do you see that large space? That will be the esplanade for
22380.456 running and jumping in the open air. » The girls will have a garden with benches, swings, avenues for playing jump rope, [101] fountains,
22389.976 birdhouses, etc. This is going to be magnificent! And Sir Juan rubbed his hands together, thinking of the fame he was going to
22398.096 acquire. Foreigners would come to see it and ask: « Who is the great architect who built this? » « Don’t you know? It’s
22406.336 incredible that you don’t know Sir Juan. You must have come from very far away! » they would all reply. With these thoughts in mind, he went from one end to the other, inspecting
22415.296 and reviewing everything. « I find too much wood for a derrick! » he said to a
22421.856 yellow-haired man who was directing some workmen. « I would have enough with three long pieces to form a tripod and three more to hold them together.
22432.736  » « Abá! » [102] replied the yellow-haired man, smiling in a peculiar way; « the more display we give to the work, the greater the effect
22442.736 we shall achieve. » The whole thing will look better, more important, and they’ll say: « How much work has been done! You’ll see, you’ll see what a load
22452.056 I’ll raise! » And then I’ll adorn it with banners, garlands of leaves and flowers … you’ll say later that you were right to admit me among your
22461.72 workers, and Señor Ibarra could not wish for more. And the man laughed and smiled; Señor Juan smiled too and shook his head.
22471.44 Some distance away, two kiosks were seen connected by a kind of trellis covered with banana leaves.
22478.44 The schoolmaster, with about thirty boys, was weaving wreaths and fastening banners to the thin cane pillars covered with
22487.48 tattered white canvas. « Take care that the letters are written well! » he would say to those drawing inscriptions. « The mayor is coming, many priests will be in attendance,
22498.64 perhaps the Captain General, who is in the province! If they see that you draw well, perhaps they will praise you. »
22505.92 « And give us a slate as a present? » « Who knows! But Señor Ibarra has already ordered one from Manila. Tomorrow
22512.4 some things will arrive, which will be distributed among you as prizes… But leave those flowers in the water, tomorrow we will make the
22521.08 bouquets, you can bring more flowers, because it is necessary that the table be covered with them; flowers brighten the sight.
22528.84  » « My father will bring bainô flowers [103] tomorrow and a basket of sampagas.
22534.48  » « Mine has brought three cartloads of sand and has not received payment.  » « My uncle has promised to pay a teacher! » added Captain Basilio’s nephew
22542.84 . Indeed, the project had found support among almost everyone. The
22548.48 priest had asked to sponsor and bless himself the laying of the first stone, a ceremony that would take place on the last day of the
22557.12 festival, being one of its greatest solemnities. The same assistant had timidly approached Ibarra, offering him as many masses
22565.96 as the devotees would pay for until the building was finished. Even more; Sister Rufa, the wealthy and thrifty woman, said that if
22575.232 money ever ran out, she would travel around some towns to beg for alms, on the sole condition that they would pay for her travel and food,
22582.512 etc. Ibarra thanked her and replied: « We wouldn’t get much, since I’m not rich, nor is this building
22590.192 a church. Besides, I haven’t promised to raise it at the expense of others. » The young men, the students who came from Manila to celebrate the
22598.192 festival, admired him and took him as their prototype; but, as almost
22603.792 always happens, when we want to imitate notable men, we only imitate their pettiness, if not their defects, because we are incapable of anything else
22612.432 , and many of these admirers focused on the way the young man tied his tie, others on the shape of his
22621.152 shirt collar, and quite a few on the number of buttons on his jacket and waistcoat. Old Tasio’s dire premonitions seemed to have
22629.672 dissipated forever. Thus Ibarra told him one day, but the pessimistic old man replied:
22635.712 « Remember what Baltasar says: Kung ang isalúbong sa iyong pagdating Ay masayang mukhâ ‘t may pakitang giliu,
22643.552 Lalong pag ingata ‘t kaauay na li him… » [104] Baltasar was as good a poet as he was a thinker.
22651.152 These and other things happened the day before, before sunset. Chapter 28.
22657.592 At dusk. At Captain Tiago’s house, very grand preparations had also been made . We know the owner; his fondness for ostentation and his pride
22666.112 as a Manila native must have humbled the provincials with splendor. There was another reason that compelled him to try to outshine the others:
22673.912 he had his daughter María Clara, and his future son-in-law was there, who
22678.952 spoke only of him. Indeed, one of the most serious newspapers in Manila had dedicated
22684.656 an article to him on its front page, entitled « Imitate Him! » (Imitate Him!), heaping praise on him and giving him some advice. It had called him the enlightened young
22693.776 and rich capitalist; two lines below, the distinguished philanthropist;
22699.776 in the next paragraph, the student of Minerva who had gone to the motherland to salute the genuine soil of the arts and sciences; and a
22708.336 little further down, the Filipino Spaniard, etc., etc. Captain Tiago burned with generous emulation and thought that perhaps it was also his duty
22716.976 to build a convent at his own expense. Days before,
22723.096 a multitude of boxes of European food and drink,
22728.136 colossal mirrors, paintings, and the young woman’s piano had arrived at the house inhabited by María Clara and her aunt Isabel. Captain Tiago arrived the same day before: when his daughter kissed
22735.296 his hand, he gave her a beautiful gold reliquary with diamonds and emeralds, containing a sliver of the boat of Saint Peter, where
22744.216 Our Lady had sat while fishing. The interview with the future son-in-law could not have been more cordial; naturally, they discussed
22751.736 the school. Captain Tiago wanted it to be called the School of Saint Francis.
22756.776 « Believe me, » he would say, « Saint Francis is a good patron. If you call it a school of primary instruction, don’t do anything. Who
22765.896 is primary instruction?  » Some of María Clara’s friends arrived and invited her out for a walk.
22772.376 « But come back soon, » said Captain Tiago to his daughter, who was asking his permission. « You know that Padre Dámaso,
22780.616 who has just arrived, is dining with us tonight.  » And turning to Ibarra, who had become thoughtful, he added:
22786.016 « Dine with us as well; you will be alone in his house.  » « With great pleasure, but I must be at home in case
22793.576 visitors come, » stammered the young man, avoiding María Clara’s gaze. « Bring your friends, » replied Captain Tiago coolly.  »
22803.4 There is always plenty of food in my house. I would also like you and Padre Dámaso to come to an understanding.
22809.96  » « There will be time for that! » replied Ibarra, smiling with a forced smile , and prepared to escort the young women.
22817.84 They went down the stairs. María Clara walked between Victoria and Iday; Aunt Isabel followed
22823.6 behind. The people respectfully moved aside to make way for them. Maria Clara was surprisingly beautiful: her pallor had disappeared, and if her
22834.36 eyes were still thoughtful, her mouth, on the contrary, seemed to know only the smile. With the kindness of a happy maiden, she greeted
22843.36 the old acquaintances of her childhood, now admirers of her happy youth. In less than two weeks she had regained that
22851.32 Frank confidence, that childish chatter that seemed to have grown dormant within the narrow walls of the convent: one might say that a
22859.32 butterfly, upon leaving its cocoon, recognized every flower; it only took a moment to fly and bask in the golden rays of the sun to lose the rigidity of its chrysalis. The
22868.32 young woman’s new life was reflected in her entire being : she found everything good and beautiful; she expressed her love
22875.52 with that virginal grace that, seeing nothing but pure thoughts, knows no reason for false blushes. Nevertheless, she covered her
22884.28 face with her fan when someone joked with her, but then her eyes smiled, and a slight shudder ran through her.
22893.8 The houses began to light up, and in the streets where
22899.08 the music flowed, the cane and wooden chandeliers were lit, imitating those in the church.
22904.52 From the street, through the open windows, one could see the people
22909.6 bustling about in the houses, in an atmosphere of light and the scent of flowers,
22914.68 to the strains of the piano, harp, or orchestra. Chinese,
22920.04 Spanish, and Filipino people crossed the streets, sometimes dressed in European or local attire. Servants carrying
22929.16 meat and chickens, students dressed in white, men and women, walked in confusion, jostling and pushing each other, exposing themselves to being run over by cars and carriages, which, despite
22939.0 the taboo [105] of the drivers, found it difficult to make way. In front of Captain Basilio’s house, some young people greeted
22948.32 our acquaintances and invited them to visit. The cheerful voice of Sinang running down the stairs put an end
22957.12 to all excuses. « Come up for a moment so I can go out with you, » he said. « I’m
22963.4 bored being among so many strangers, who only talk about roosters and cards.  »
22968.52 They went up. The room was full of people. Some came forward to greet Ibarra, whose name was known to everyone; they gazed in ecstasy
22978.12 at the beauty of María Clara, and some old women murmured while chewing buyo: « She looks like the Virgin! »
22984.76 There they had to drink hot chocolate. Captain Basilio had become Ibarra’s close friend and defender since the picnic. He learned from the
22992.68 telegram, given to his daughter Sinang, that he was aware that the lawsuit had been decided in his favor, and so, not wanting
23000.96 to be outdone in generosity, he tried to cancel the chess game . But since Ibarra didn’t agree to it, Captain Basilio proposed
23010.12 that the money with which he was to pay the costs be used to pay a teacher at the future school. As a result, the orator
23018.76 used his oratory to convince the other opponents to desist from their strange pretensions, saying:
23024.96 « Believe me: in lawsuits, the one who wins ends up without a shirt! » But he couldn’t convince anyone, despite quoting the Romans.
23033.424 After drinking hot chocolate, our young men had to listen to the piano, played by the town organist.
23039.704 « When I hear you in church, » Sinang would say, pointing to him, « I feel like dancing; now that you’re playing the piano, it makes me think of praying. That’s why
23047.344 I’m leaving with you.  » « Do you want to come with us tonight? » Captain
23053.744 Basilio would ask Ibarra in his ear as he said goodbye. « Father Dámaso is going to put up a small bench. »
23058.904 Ibarra smiled and answered with a nod that meant both yes and no.
23065.944 « Who is that? » Maria Clara asked Victoria, pointing with a quick glance at a young man following them.
23072.984 “That one… that one is a cousin of mine,” she replied, somewhat flustered. “And the other one?
23078.064 ” “That one is not my cousin,” Sinang replied briskly; “he’s a son of my aunt’s. ” They passed in front of the parish house, which, by the way, was not one of the
23086.904 least lively. Sinang couldn’t contain an exclamation of astonishment when she saw the lamps burning, of a very old-fashioned kind, which Father Salví
23096.224 never allowed to be lit so as not to waste oil. Shouts and loud laughter could be heard, and the friars could be seen walking slowly, moving
23105.184 their heads in time with the thick cigar that adorned their lips. The lay people among them tried to imitate everything they did.
23112.344 The good religious. Judging by the European attire they wore, they must have been employees or authorities in the province.
23118.704 María Clara distinguished the rounded contours of Father Dámaso next to the correct silhouette of Father Sibyla. The
23127.704 mysterious and taciturn Father Salví stood motionless in his place. « He’s sad! » Sinang observed; « think about how much
23133.824 so many visits are going to cost him. But you’ll see how it’s not him who pays, but the sacristans. His visitors always eat elsewhere.
23141.424  » « Sinang! » Victoria chided him. « I can’t stand him since he broke the Wheel of Fortune; I
23148.304 don’t confess to him anymore. » Among all the houses, one could be distinguished that was neither lit
23154.96 nor had its windows open: it was the second lieutenant’s. María Clara was surprised by this.
23161.0 « The witch! The Muse of the Civil Guard, as the old man says! » exclaimed the terrible Sinang. « What does she have to do with our
23167.84 joys? She must be raving! » Let cholera come and you’ll see how it gives
23172.92 a feast. « But, Sinang! » her cousin chides again. « I’ve never been able to tolerate her, and even less so since she disturbed our party
23181.44 with her civil guards. If I were archbishop, I’d marry her off to
23186.48 Father Salvi… what children! Just imagine arresting that poor pilot, who threw himself into the water to please… »
23193.56 She couldn’t finish her sentence: in the corner of the square where a blind man was singing the ballad of the fishes to the sound of a guitar,
23201.12 a strange spectacle presented itself. It was a man covered with a wide salakot of palm leaves,
23206.72 and miserably dressed. His attire consisted of a tattered frock coat and baggy trousers, like those of Chinese personae, personae
23216.44 in various places. His feet were shod with miserable sandals. His face remained completely in shadow thanks to his salakot, but from
23224.0 that darkness, two gleams would occasionally emerge, only to be extinguished instantly. He was tall, and from his movements, one might have thought
23232.72 he was young. He would place a basket on the ground and then walk away, uttering strange, incomprehensible sounds. He remained standing,
23241.16 completely isolated, as if he and the crowd were avoiding each other. Then, some women would approach his basket and
23249.56 place fruit, fish, rice, etc. in it. When no one else was around, other sadder
23258.72 but less mournful sounds would emerge from the shadows, perhaps of thanksgiving. He would pick up his basket
23264.56 and walk away, only to repeat the same thing elsewhere. Maria Clara sensed a misfortune there and asked, full of interest,
23272.512 about this strange creature. « It’s the leper, » Iday replied. « He contracted the disease four years ago
23279.272 : some say from caring for his mother, others from being
23284.352 in the damp prison. » He lives out there in the country, near the Chinese cemetery; he doesn’t communicate with anyone; everyone flees from him for fear
23294.112 of catching the virus. If you could see his little house! It’s Giring-giring’s little house [106]: the wind, the rain, and the sun go in and out like a needle through a
23304.392 cloth. He has been forbidden to touch anything that belonged to other people. One day a little boy fell into the canal; the canal wasn’t deep, but he, who
23313.672 was passing by, helped him out. The father found out and complained to the
23318.912 little governor, who ordered him to be whipped six times in the middle of the street, then burned the vine. It was atrocious! The leper ran
23328.272 away, the whipper chased him, and the little governor shouted: « Learn! It’s better for one of you to drown than to get sick like you.
23337.632  » « That’s true! » murmured María Clara. And without realizing what she was doing, she quickly approached the unfortunate man’s basket
23344.192 and placed in it the locket her father had just given her . « What have you done? » her friends asked her.
23351.712 « I didn’t have anything else! » she replied, hiding the tears in her eyes with a laugh. « And what is he going to do with your locket? » Victoria asked her. « One day
23361.232 they gave him money, but he used a stick to drag it away. What did he want it for
23366.272 if no one would accept anything from him? If only the locket could be eaten! » María Clara looked enviously at the women selling groceries
23375.352 and shrugged her shoulders. But the lazarin approached the basket, took the jewel, which glittered in
23381.072 his hands, knelt down, kissed it, and then, uncovering himself, buried his
23386.112 forehead in the dust the young woman had trodden on. Maria Clara hid her face behind her fan and put her
23393.688 handkerchief to her eyes. Meanwhile, a woman had approached the unfortunate man and seemed to be
23398.968 praying. Her long hair was loose and disheveled, and in the light of
23404.008 the lanterns, the extremely haggard features of the madwoman Sisa could be seen.
23409.208 Upon feeling her touch, the lazarin gave a cry and jumped up . But the madwoman clutched his arm, to the great horror of the people,
23418.288 and said: « Let us pray, let us pray! Today is the Day of the Dead! Those lights are
23424.048 the lives of men; let us pray for my children!  » « Separate her, separate them! » « The crazy woman is going to catch the virus! »
23432.168 the crowd shouted, but no one dared to come near. « Do you see that light in the tower? That’s my son Basilio
23440.368 coming down a rope! Do you see that one over there in the convent? That’s my son Crispín, but I’m not going to see them because the priest is sick and
23448.768 has too many ounces, and ounces are lost. Let us pray, let us pray for the
23454.048 priest’s soul! I brought him bitter gourds and brambles; my garden was full of flowers, and he had two sons. I had a garden, I tended flowers,
23463.328 and I had two sons!  » And releasing the lazarino, he walked away singing: « I had a garden and flowers, I had children, a garden and flowers!
23471.608  » « What could you have done for that poor woman? » María Clara asked Ibarra.
23476.688 « Nothing; « She’d disappeared from the village these days and couldn’t be found! » the young man replied, half-confused. « I’ve also been very
23485.848 busy, but don’t worry; the priest is very interested in her!  » « Didn’t the ensign say he would have the children searched for?
23493.168  » « Yes, but he was a little… drunk then! » He had barely finished saying this when they saw the crazy woman, being dragged
23500.248 rather than led by a soldier: Sisa was putting up a fight. « Why are you arresting her? What has she done? » Ibarra asked.
23508.672 « What? Haven’t you seen how loud she’s been? » replied the custodian of public tranquility.
23514.792 The lazarino hurriedly picked up his basket and walked away. María Clara wanted to leave, for she had lost her cheerfulness and
23522.272 good humor. « There are people who aren’t happy too! » she murmured. When she reached the door of her house, she felt her sadness increase when she saw
23531.392 that her fiancé refused to come up and was saying goodbye. « It’s necessary! » said the young man.
23537.272 María Clara went upstairs, thinking how boring feast days are when visitors from abroad come.
23544.992 Chapter 29. CORRESPONDENCES. Everyone talks about the festival according to how it goes for them.
23551.752 Nothing important having happened to our characters, neither the night before nor the following day, we would gladly skip to
23560.552 the last one, if we didn’t consider that perhaps some foreign reader might wish to know how the Filipinos celebrate their festivals. For this purpose, we will copy
23568.912 several letters verbatim, one of them being that of the correspondent of a serious and distinguished newspaper from Manila, venerable for its tone
23577.632 and high severity. Our readers will rectify some slight and natural inaccuracies.
23583.312 The worthy correspondent of the noble newspaper wrote thus: Mr. Editor…
23588.392 My distinguished friend: I have never witnessed, nor do I expect to see in the provinces, a religious festival as solemn, splendid, and moving
23598.872 as the one celebrated in this town by the MMRR and
23604.312 virtuous Franciscan Fathers. The attendance was enormous; here I had the good fortune to
23610.552 greet almost all the Spaniards residing in this province, three Augustinian Priests from the Province of Batangas, two
23620.232 Dominican Priests, one of them, Father Fr. Hernando de la Sibyla, who with his presence has come to honor this town, a fact
23629.664 that its worthy inhabitants should never forget. I also saw a large number of leaders from Cavite, Pampanga, many wealthy people
23638.544 from Manila, and many musical bands, among them the most refined of Pagsanghan, property of the notary, Don Miguel Guevara, and a
23647.824 multitude of Chinese and indigenous people, who with the curiosity that characterizes
23653.144 the former and religiosity of the latter, anxiously awaited
23658.224 the day in which the solemn festival was to be celebrated, to attend the comic-mimic-lyrical-choreographic-dramatic spectacle,
23665.704 for which purpose a large and spacious stage had been erected in the middle of the plaza. At nine o’clock in the evening on the tenth, the eve of the festival,
23673.864 after the sumptuous dinner with which the Senior Brother treated us, the strains of two bands of music caught the attention of all the Spaniards and friars who were in
23680.384 the convent, accompanied by a packed crowd and the noise of rockets and bombs, and preceded
23688.264 by the main people of the town, came to the convent to take us out and lead us to the place prepared and designated for us
23696.504 to witness the spectacle. We had to yield to such a gallant offer, even though I
23701.984 would have preferred to rest in the arms of Morpheus and give pleasant repose to my aching limbs, thanks to the jolts of the
23711.144 vehicle provided by the governor of the town of B. We got out, then, and went to look for our companions who were dining
23719.784 at the house owned here by the pious and opulent Don Santiago de los Santos. The town priest, Mr. Father Bernardo Salví, and
23727.824 Mr. Father Dámaso Verdolagas, who is now, by special favor
23733.328 of the Almighty, recovered from the illness that an impious hand had brought upon him, in the company of Mr. Father Hernando de la Sibyla
23741.368 and the virtuous priest of Tenauan, with other Spaniards, were the guests at the house of the Filipino Croesus. There we had the good fortune
23750.368 to admire not only the luxury and good taste of the owners of the house, which is uncommon among the natives, but also
23758.088 the precious, beautiful, and wealthy heiress, who proved herself a consummate disciple of Saint Cecilia, playing her elegant piano
23765.088 with a mastery that reminded me of Gálvez and the finest German and Italian compositions. It’s a shame that such a perfect
23773.968 young lady is so excessively modest and hides her merits from society, which has only admiration for her. I must not forget
23782.888 that at the host’s house they served us champagne and fine liquors with the profusion and splendor that characterize
23791.168 the renowned capitalist. We attended the spectacle. You already know our artists
23797.248 Ratia, Carvajal, and Fernández; their graces were understood only by us, since the uneducated class didn’t get
23805.968 a jot of it. Chananay and Balbino were fine, although somewhat hoarse; the latter released a chick, but their overall goodwill and integrity
23814.248 were admirable. The indigenous people, especially the little governor, greatly enjoyed the Tagalog comedy. The latter rubbed his hands together and
23823.088 told us what a shame they hadn’t made the princess fight the giant who had stolen her, which, in his
23830.768 opinion, would have been even more wonderful, especially if the giant had been invulnerable except in his navel, like a certain Ferragús
23838.888 mentioned in the story of the Twelve Peers. The MRP Friar Dámaso,
23844.192 with his characteristic kindness of heart, shared the little governor’s opinion and added that in that case, the princess
23852.672 would arrange to uncover the giant’s navel and deliver the coup de grace. Needless to say, during the spectacle
23860.792 , the kindness of the Filipino Rothschildt left nothing lacking : sherbets, carbonated lemonades, soft drinks, sweets, wines, etc., etc. were freely available
23870.672 to those of us who were there. The absence of the well-known and illustrious young Don Juan Crisóstomo
23879.192 Ibarra was very noticeable, and rightly so. As you know, he is to preside tomorrow over the blessing of the cornerstone of the great monument that you are so philanthropically
23886.832 having erected. This worthy descendant of the Pelayos and Elcanos (because, as I have learned, one of his paternal grandfathers is from
23895.192 our heroic and noble northern provinces, perhaps one of the first companions of Magellan or Legaspi) has not missed it either.
23904.792 see for the rest of the day, due to a minor malaise. His name is spread from mouth to mouth and is only pronounced with praise that cannot
23912.912 but redound to the glory of Spain and of legitimate Spaniards like ourselves, who never deny our blood,
23920.872 however mixed it may be. Today, the 11th, in the morning, we witnessed a highly moving spectacle
23927.712 . This day, as is public and well-known, is the feast of Our Lady of Peace, and it is celebrated by the Brothers of the
23934.592 Holy Rosary. Tomorrow will be the feast of the Patron Saint Diego, and
23939.912 the Brothers of the VOT are mainly taking part in it. Between these two corporations there is a pious emulation to serve
23948.52 God, and this piety goes so far as to provoke holy displeasure between them, as happened recently due to
23956.16 the dispute over the great preacher of renowned fame, the oft- named MRP Fr. Dámaso, who will occupy the chair of the
23965.32 Holy Spirit tomorrow with a sermon that will be, according to general belief,
23970.68 a religious and literary event. Well, as we were saying, we witnessed a
23976.48 highly edifying and moving spectacle . Six young religious men, three who were to say Mass and the other three as acolytes,
23983.92 emerged from the sacristy and, prostrate before the altar, the celebrant, Father Fr. Hernando de la Sibyla, intoned
23992.0 the Surge Dómine, with which the procession around the church was to begin, with that magnificent voice and religious anointing that
24000.16 everyone recognizes and makes him so worthy of general admiration. After the Surge Dómine was finished, the gobernadorcillo, dressed in
24008.56 tails, with the banner, followed by four acolytes with censers, began the procession. Following them came the silver candlesticks,
24016.48 the municipality, the precious images dressed in satin and gold, representing Saint Dominic, Saint Diego, and the Virgin of Peace,
24025.76 wearing a magnificent blue mantle with gilded silver plates, a gift from the virtuous former governor, well worthy of imitation and never
24034.12 sufficiently celebrated, Don Santiago de los Santos. All these images rode on silver chariots. Following the Mother of God came
24042.48 the Spaniards and other religious figures: the celebrant was protected by a canopy carried by the heads of the barangay, and
24050.8 the worthy corps of the Civil Guard closed the procession. I believe it’s needless to mention that a multitude of indigenous people formed the two rows of the
24060.392 procession, carrying lighted candles with great piety. Music played religious marches; repeated salvos made bombs and wheels
24070.152 of fire. It is astonishing to see the modesty and fervor these acts inspire in the hearts of believers, the pure and great faith
24079.632 they profess in the Virgin of Peace, and the solemnity and fervent devotion with which those of us who had the good fortune
24087.192 to be born under the sacred and immaculate flag of Spain celebrate such solemnities. Once the procession was over, the Mass began, performed
24094.552 by the orchestra and theater artists. After the Gospel, Fray Manuel Martín, an Augustinian from the province of Batangas, ascended the pulpit
24103.512 . He had the entire audience, especially the Spaniards , rapt and attentive to his words
24112.112 during the exordium in Spanish, which he delivered with courage and phrases so easily translated and appropriate that they filled our
24120.912 hearts with fervor and enthusiasm. This word, then, is what should be given to what is felt or we feel when it comes to the
24128.472 Virgin and our beloved Spain, and especially when the ideas of a prince of the Church, Mr. Monescillo [107],
24137.592 which are surely those of all Spaniards, can be inserted into the text, since the subject matter lends itself to it
24144.632 . After the mass, we all went up to the convent together with the leaders of the town and other important people, where
24152.472 they were very well entertained with the finesse, attention and prodigality that characterize the MRP
24159.264 Fray Salví, offering them cigars and a strong snack that the Senior Brother had prepared
24166.504 below the convent, for anyone who needed to quiet the needs of his stomach.
24171.544 During the day, nothing was lacking to make the celebration cheerful and to maintain the characteristic vivacity of the Spanish,
24178.144 who on such occasions cannot contain themselves, demonstrating, whether in songs or dances, or in other simple and joyful distractions,
24186.944 that they have noble and strong hearts, that sorrow does not overwhelm them, and that it is enough for three Spaniards to gather in a given place for
24196.464 sadness and unease to disappear. Thus, worship of Terpsichore was rendered in many homes, but especially in that of the
24205.024 illustrious Filipino millionaire, where we were all invited to dine. Needless to say, the banquet, lavish and
24214.384 brilliantly served, was the second edition of the wedding at Cana or Camacho, revised and enlarged. While we enjoyed the
24223.224 pleasures of the bucolic directed by a cook from La Campana, the orchestra played harmonious melodies. The beautiful young lady
24230.704 of the house wore a mestiza dress and a cascade of diamonds, and was, as always, the belle of the ball. We all deeply regret
24239.304 that a slight sprain in her pretty foot has deprived her of the pleasures of the dance, for if we are to judge
24247.504 by what her perfection in all things demonstrates, Miss de los Santos must dance like a sylph.
24253.544 The mayor of the province arrived this afternoon to solemnize tomorrow’s ceremony with his presence. He lamented the
24260.744 discomfort of the distinguished proprietor, Mr. Ibarra, who, thank God, according to what we have been told, is already better.
24266.592 There was a solemn procession last night, but I will tell you about this in my letter tomorrow, because, in addition to the bomb blasts that have
24276.672 stunned me and made me somewhat deaf, I am very tired and am falling asleep. Meanwhile, then, while I regain my strength in the arms of Morpheus, or
24284.592 rather on the convent cot, I wish you, my distinguished friend,
24289.632 good night and until tomorrow, which will be the big day. Your affmo. friend qbsm
24298.192 San Diego, November 11. The correspondent. This is what the good correspondent wrote. Let’s see what
24305.712 Captain Martín wrote to his friend Luis Chiquito: Dear Choy: Come running, if you can, the fiesta is very
24313.632 joyful; imagine that Captain Joaquín is almost ousted: Captain Tiago has doubled him three times, and all three times at the gates,
24322.352 so that Cabezang Manuel, the owner of the house, becomes increasingly smaller with joy. Father Dámaso broke
24330.792 a lamp with a blow of his punch because up to now he hasn’t won a card; the consul has lost at his cockfights and in banking everything he won from us
24339.232 at the Biñang and Pilar festivals in Santa Cruz. We were hoping that Captain Tiago would bring us his future son-in-law,
24346.512 the rich heir of Don Rafael, but it seems he wants to imitate his father, because he hasn’t even shown up. Too bad! It seems
24355.432 he’ll never be of any use. The Chinese man Carlos is making a huge fortune with liam-pó;
24361.472 I suspect he’s carrying something hidden inside, perhaps a magnet. He continually complains of headaches, which he bandages, and when
24370.112 the liam-pó bucket slowly stops, he leans down almost to touch it, as if he wanted to get a good look at it. I’m suspicious,
24379.432 because I know other similar stories. Goodbye, Choy; my roosters are doing well, and my wife is happy and having
24386.712 fun. Your friend Martín Aristorenas. Ibarra had also received a small, perfumed note that Andeng,
24393.32 María Clara’s foster sister, had given him on the evening of the first day of the festival. The note read:
24400.16 Crisóstomo: You haven’t been seen for more than a day; I heard you’re a little sick, I’ve prayed for you and lit two candles,
24408.44 even though Papa says you’re not seriously ill. Last night and today, they’ve bored me by making me play the piano and inviting me to
24416.92 dance. I didn’t know there were so many annoying people on earth! If it weren’t for Father Damaso, who tries to distract me by telling me and
24424.96 telling me many things, I would have locked myself in my bedroom to sleep. Write to me what’s wrong, and I’ll tell Papa to visit you. For
24432.96 now, I’m sending Andeng to make you tea; she knows how to make it.
24438.44 well, and perhaps better than your servants. María Clara. P.S. If you don’t come tomorrow, I won’t go to the ceremony. Fine.
24446.0 Chapter 30. MORNING The brass bands played reveille at the first light of dawn,
24453.16 awakening the weary townspeople with a joyful air. Life and animation were reborn, the bells rang again, and
24461.8 the explosions began. It was the last day of the festival; it was truly the festival itself. They expected to see much more than the day before. The brothers
24471.12 of the VOT were more numerous than those of the Holy Rosary, and the brothers smiled piously, certain of humiliating their
24479.8 rivals. They had bought a greater number of candles: the Chinese candle makers
24485.0 made a fortune, and in gratitude they planned to be baptized, although
24490.16 some assured them that it was not because of faith in Catholicism, but because of the desire to take a wife.
24495.864 But to this the pious women replied: « Even if that were the case, the fact that so many Chinese people were marrying at once would still
24504.224 be a miracle, and their wives would be converted. » The people put on their finest clothes; all their
24512.504 jewelry came out of their boxes. The gamblers and the players themselves wore embroidered shirts with heavy, brilliant-cut buttons, heavy gold chains, and white
24521.464 straw hats. Only the old philosopher remained as always: his dark-striped sinamay shirt [108] buttoned to the
24530.944 neck, loose shoes, and a wide, ash-colored felt hat. « You are sadder today than ever! » said the lieutenant-
24539.424 major. « Don’t you want us to be happy now and then, since we have so much to grieve about?
24544.704  » « Being happy doesn’t mean doing crazy things! » replied the old man. « It’s the same senseless annual orgy! And why all this? » To waste
24553.824 money when there is so much misery and need! I understand now, it’s the orgy, the bacchanal to drown out everyone’s lamentations!
24562.784 « You know I share your opinion, » replied Don Filipo, half serious, half smiling. « I defended her, but what could I do
24571.424 against the little governor and the priest?  » « Resign! » replied the philosopher and walked away. Don Filipo remained perplexed, following the old man with his eyes.
24580.824 « Resign! » he murmured, addressing the church, « resign! Yes! If
24586.504 this position were a dignity and not a burden, yes, I would resign! »
24591.984 The church courtyard was full of people: men and women, children
24597.024 and old people, dressed in the finest clothes, mingling with one another,
24602.184 entering and leaving through the narrow doors. It smelled of gunpowder, flowers,
24607.584 incense, perfume; Bombs, rockets, and squints made
24613.744 the women run and scream, and the children laugh. A brass band played in front of the convent; others, leading to the town hall, paraded through
24622.632 the streets, where a multitude of flags fluttered and waved. Motley lights and colors distracted the eye, harmonies and thunder the
24632.432 ear. The bells rang incessantly; carriages and buggies passed by,
24638.232 their horses sometimes shooing, rearing up, or raising their hands, which, although not included in the festival program,
24646.592 constituted a free and most interesting spectacle. The Senior Brother that day had sent servants to look for
24654.992 guests in the street, like the one who gave the feast mentioned in the Gospel. People were invited, almost by force, to drink hot chocolate, coffee,
24663.632 tea, sweets, etc. Not infrequently, the invitation took on the proportions
24669.112 of a quarrel. The high mass was about to be celebrated, the so-called dalmatic mass, like
24674.512 the one yesterday mentioned by the worthy correspondent, only now the celebrant would be Father Salví, and among those who were going to hear it
24683.432 would be the mayor of the province with many other Spaniards and learned people to listen to Father Dámaso, who enjoyed great fame in the
24692.032 province. The ensign himself, having learned his lesson from Father Salví’s preaching , also came to give proof of his good
24700.512 will and to make up for the bad times the priest had given him, if possible . Such was the reputation of Father Dámaso that the correspondent
24709.712 He wrote the following in advance to the newspaper editor: As I had announced to you in my poorly drafted lines yesterday,
24718.672 so it has happened. We have had the special good fortune of hearing Father Father Dámaso Verdolagas, former priest of this town, transferred today to a
24728.512 higher priest as a reward for his good services. The distinguished sacred orator occupied the chair of the Holy Spirit, delivering a most eloquent and
24736.672 profound sermon, which edified and astonished all the faithful
24742.152 who anxiously awaited to see the salutary source of eternal life spring from his fertile lips. Sublimity and boldness in his concepts,
24750.192 novelty in his phrases, elegance in his style, naturalness in his gestures, grace in his speech, gallantry in his ideas—these are the
24760.032 hallmarks of the Spanish Bossuet, who has justly earned his high reputation, not only among enlightened Spaniards, but also among
24768.832 the rough native people and the astute children of the Celestial Empire. However, the unsuspecting correspondent was almost forced to
24778.552 delete everything he had written. Father Dámaso was complaining of a slight cold he had caught the night before: after
24785.312 singing some lively peteneras, he had drunk three glasses of sherbet and briefly attended the spectacle. As a result, he wanted
24793.992 to give up being God’s interpreter to men, but since no one else had learned the life and miracles of Saint
24801.352 Diego—the priest knew them, it is true, but he had to officiate—the other religious unanimously agreed that Father Dámaso’s voice
24810.072 was unsurpassable and that it would be a great shame to fail to deliver a sermon as eloquent as the one already written and learned.
24818.992 Therefore, the former housekeeper prepared him lemonades, anointed his chest and neck with ointments and oils, wrapped him in warm cloths,
24828.432 massaged him, etc., etc. Father Dámaso ate raw eggs beaten with
24834.256 wine, and all morning he neither spoke nor ate breakfast. He drank only a glass of milk, a cup of hot chocolate, and a dozen biscuits,
24842.656 heroically renouncing his fried chicken and his usual half-piece of Laguna cheese because, according to his housekeeper, chicken and cheese
24851.096 were salty and greasy and could cause coughing. « All to win heaven and convert! » the
24858.096 sisters of the VOT would say, moved, upon learning of these sacrifices. « The Virgin of Peace is punishing him! » the sisters of the
24865.896 Most Holy Rosary would murmur, unable to forgive him for siding with their enemies.
24871.576 At eight-thirty, the procession set out in the shade of the canvas awning. It was similar to yesterday’s, although there was one novelty: the
24879.976 Brotherhood of the VOT. Old men, old women, and some young women on the cusp of
24886.216 old age displayed long gingham habits; The poor wore them made of
24891.616 coarse cloth, the rich wore them made of silk, or Franciscan gingham, as the reverend Franciscan friars call it because it is more commonly used. All these
24900.296 sacred habits were legitimate; they came from the convent of Manila, where the people acquired them for alms, in exchange for money, a prix fixe, if
24908.376 a store’s phrase may be used. This fixed price can be increased,
24913.456 but not decreased. Just like these habits, others are also sold in the same convent and in the monastery of Santa Clara, which possess,
24923.096 besides the special grace of procuring many indulgences for the dead who are shrouded in them, the even more special grace of being
24931.696 more expensive the older, more worn, and more useless they are. We write this
24936.832 in case some pious reader needs such sacred relics,
24941.912 or some loutish rag-picker from Europe wants to make a fortune by taking a shipment of mended and filthy habits to the Philippines, since they can
24949.832 cost sixteen pesos or more depending on their more or less ragged appearance.
24954.872 Saint Diego de Alcalá rode in a chariot adorned with embossed silver plates . The Saint, quite thin, had an ivory bust with
24963.152 a severe and majestic expression, despite the abundant curly bangs like those of African Americans. His robe was of satin embroidered with gold.
24973.112 Our venerable father Saint Francis followed. Then the Virgin, like yesterday, only the priest under the canopy was
24981.112 this time Father Salví and not the elegant Father Sibyla with his distinguished manners. But if the former lacked a handsome appearance,
24989.752 he had plenty of anointing: his hands were clasped in a mystical attitude, his
24995.112 eyes lowered, and he walked half-hunched. Those carrying the canopy were the same cabezas de barangay, sweating with satisfaction at seeing themselves at
25005.192 the same time as semi-sacristans, tax collectors, redeemers of the vagrant and poor humanity, and consequently Christs who give their
25014.352 blood for the sins of others. The assistant, wearing a surplice, went from one cart to another carrying the censer, with whose smoke he
25023.632 occasionally regaled the priest’s nose, who then became even more serious and grave.
25029.512 Thus the procession moved slowly, leisurely to the sound of bombas, songs, and religious melodies, launched into the air by the marching bands
25037.312 , which followed behind each cart. Meanwhile, the Senior Brother distributed candles
25042.472 with such zeal that many of the companions retired to their homes, where they had enough light for four nights while playing
25050.152 cards. The curious onlookers knelt devoutly as the carriage of the Mother of God passed by, fervently praying creeds and Hail Marys.
25057.224 In front of a house from whose windows, adorned with ornate hangings,
25062.984 the mayor, Captain Tiago, María Clara, Ibarra, several
25068.464 Spaniards, and young ladies were peering, the carriage stopped. Father Salví managed to
25073.584 raise his eyes, but he didn’t make the slightest gesture to show greeting or acknowledge them: he merely straightened up, stood more
25082.224 erect, and his pluvial cape fell gracefully and elegantly over his shoulders.
25088.464 On the street below the window, stood a young woman with a pleasant face, dressed in great luxury, carrying a young child in her arms
25097.224 . She must have been a nurse or nanny, for the boy was white and blond, and she was dark, and her hair was blacker than jet.
25105.664 Seeing the priest, the tender infant stretched out his little hands, laughed with that laughter of childhood that neither provokes nor is
25114.024 provoked by pain, and cried out, stammering, amid a brief silence: « Pa… pa! Pa! Pa! »
25119.344 The young woman shuddered, hastily put her hand over her mouth , and ran away in great confusion. The child began to cry.
25127.024 The malicious people winked at each other, and the Spaniards who witnessed the brief scene smiled. Father Salví’s natural pallor
25134.944 turned poppy red. And yet the people were wrong: the priest did not even know
25141.704 the woman, who was a stranger. Chapter 31. IN THE CHURCH
25147.024 From end to end was the dressing room filled, which men assign as a house to the Creator of all that exists.
25153.664 They shoved, pressed, and crushed one another,
25158.744 the few who were leaving and the many who were entering gasping for air. Still, from a distance, people would reach out to dip their fingers in the holy water,
25167.2 but perhaps a surge would come and they would pull their hand away. Then a grunt would be heard, a trampled woman would swear, but the
25175.28 pushing continued. Some old men who managed to cool their fingers in the water, now the color of mud, where an
25183.8 entire town, along with the strangers, had once washed, would devoutly, if with difficulty, anoint their necks, crowns, foreheads, noses, beards,
25192.44 chests, and navels with it, convinced that in this way they were sanctifying all those parts and would suffer neither stiff necks, nor headaches,
25201.2 nor consumption, nor indigestion. Young people, either because they weren’t so sickly or didn’t believe in that sacred prophylaxis,
25210.0 would just moisten the tip of their finger—so that the devout people wouldn’t have anything to say—and pretended to point to their forehead without touching it,
25218.08 of course. It must be blessed and all that, some young woman would think, but it has a color!
25223.16 It was hard to breathe; it was hot and smelled like a biman animal; but
25229.36 the preacher was worth all that trouble: his sermon cost the town 250 pesos. Old Tasio had said:
25237.96 “250 pesos for a sermon! Just one man and one woman!” time! A third of what the comedians who will work
25246.16 for three nights cost!… You must necessarily be very rich! « What has that to do with comedy? » the
25254.32 nervous teacher of the Brothers of the VOT replied sulkily; « with comedy
25259.76 souls go to hell, and with the sermon to heaven. If he had
25265.48 asked for a thousand, we would pay him and we would still have to thank him for it…
25270.84  » « After all, you are right! » replied the philosopher; « at least I am more amused by the sermon than by the comedy.
25277.2  » « Well, neither do I understand comedy! » shouted the other furiously. « I believe it, you understand as much about one as about the other! »
25285.488 And the impious man left without paying attention to the insults and dire prophecies that the irritable teacher made about his future life.
25293.808 While they waited for the mayor, the people sweated and yawned;
25298.848 they waved fans, hats and handkerchiefs in the air; The children were screaming and crying , which gave the sacristans a hard time getting them out
25307.928 of the church. This made the conscientious and phlegmatic master of the Brotherhood of the Most Holy Rosary think:
25314.568 « Let the children come to me, » Our Lord Jesus Christ said,  »
25319.768 it’s true; but here it must be understood that children don’t cry.  » An old woman, one of those dressed in gingham, Sister Putê, was saying to her
25329.448 granddaughter, a little girl of six, who was kneeling beside her: « You damned girl! Pay attention, you’re going to hear a sermon like the one on
25338.368 Good Friday!  » And she pinched her, awakening the girl’s pity, who
25343.688 grimaced, stretched out her snout, and wrinkled her eyebrows. Some men, squatting, were dozing near the
25350.848 confessionals. An old man, nodding, made our old woman believe he was muttering prayers and quickly running his fingers over the beads
25359.288 of his rosary, that this was the most reverent way of obeying heaven’s designs, and little by little she began to imitate him.
25366.648 Ibarra was in a corner; María Clara was kneeling near the
25371.928 main altar in a place that your priest had the gallantry to have cleared for the sacristans. Captain Tiago, dressed in tails, sat on the
25380.568 benches reserved for the dignitaries, so the children who didn’t know him took him for just another little governor and didn’t dare approach him.
25389.408 Finally, the mayor arrived with his staff, coming from the vestry and occupying one of the magnificent armchairs
25398.088 placed on a carpet. The mayor was dressed in full regalia, wearing the sash of Charles III and four or five other decorations.
25406.864 The townspeople didn’t recognize him. « Abá! » exclaimed a peasant; « a civilian dressed as a comedian!
25413.624  » « Simpleton! » replied the neighbor, nudging him: « it’s Prince Villardo, whom we saw last night at the theater! »
25420.304 The mayor rose in the eyes of the people, becoming an enchanted prince, a conqueror of giants.
25426.784 Mass began. Those who were seated rose; those who were sleeping were awakened by the ringing of bells and the sonorous voices of the singers.
25434.984 Father Salví, despite his seriousness, seemed very satisfied, since he was served as deacon and subdeacon by no less than two Augustinians.
25442.184 Each sang well when his turn came, with a more or less
25447.784 nasal voice and obscure pronunciation, except for the officiant, whose voice was somewhat tremulous, often going off-key, to the great surprise of those
25455.944 who knew him. He moved, however, with precision and elegance; He said the Dominus vobiscum with unction, tilting his head slightly and
25464.264 looking toward the vault. Seeing him receive the incense smoke, one would have said that Galen was right in admitting the passage of smoke from the
25471.824 nostrils to the skull through the ethmoid sieve, for he stood up, threw back his head, and then walked toward the center of the
25479.664 altar with such pomp and gravity that Captain Tiago found him more majestic than the Chinese comedian from the previous night, dressed as
25488.024 an emperor, painted with paint, with little banners on his back, a horse-bristle beard
25493.144 , and high-soled slippers. « Undoubtedly, » he thought, « a single priest of ours has more majesty
25498.664 than all the emperors.  » Finally, the long-awaited moment arrived to hear Father Damaso. The three
25504.208 priests sat in their chairs in an edifying attitude, as the honorable correspondent would say; the mayor and other people with staffs and
25512.648 canes imitated them; the music ceased. That transition from noise to silence awakened our old sister
25518.688 Putê, who was already snoring, thanks to the music. Like Sigismund, or like the
25523.928 cook in the Dornröschen story, the first thing she did upon waking was to smack her granddaughter, who had also fallen asleep, on the back of her neck. She
25533.248 shrieked, but was soon distracted by the sight of a woman beating her breast with conviction and enthusiasm.
25539.768 Everyone tried to arrange themselves comfortably; those without a bench squatted, the women on the floor or on their laps.
25549.408 Father Dámaso crossed the crowd, preceded by two sacristans and followed by another friar carrying a large notebook. He disappeared as
25557.048 he ascended the spiral staircase, but his round head soon reappeared,
25562.328 then the thick neck of his neck, immediately followed by his body. He looked around confidently, half coughing; he saw Ibarra; a
25572.208 particular blink indicated that he would not forget him in his prayers; then a look of satisfaction at Father Sibyla and another of disdain
25581.168 at Father Manuel Martín, yesterday’s preacher. Having finished this review, he turned surreptitiously to his companion, saying: « Attention, brother! »
25590.448 He opened his notebook. But the sermon deserves a separate chapter. A young man who was then learning
25598.768 shorthand and who idolizes great orators, stenographed it; thanks to this, we can bring here a piece of the sacred oratory of
25606.368 those regions. Chapter 32. THE SERMON. Brother Dámaso began slowly, saying in a low voice:
25614.248 And you gave them your good spirit to teach them, and you did not take your manna from
25623.528 their mouths, but gave them water
25628.728 for their thirst! Words spoken by the Lord through the mouth of Ezra, Book II, Chapter IX,
25636.968 Verse 20. Father Sibyla looked at the preacher in surprise; Father Manuel Martín
25643.008 paled and swallowed; this was better than his own. Whether Father Dámaso noticed or was still hoarse, the fact is that
25652.728 he coughed several times, placing both hands on the parapet of the Holy Tribune. The Holy Spirit was above his head, freshly painted:
25661.608 white, clean, with pink feet and beak. Most Excellent Sir (to the mayor), most virtuous priests,
25670.328 Christians, brothers in Jesus Christ! Here he paused solemnly, once again casting his gaze over the
25676.608 audience, whose attention and devotion filled him with satisfaction. The first part of the sermon was to be in Spanish and the other in
25684.888 Tagalog: loquebantur omnes linguas [109]. After the vocatives and the pause, he majestically extended his
25693.128 right hand toward the altar, fixing his gaze on the mayor; then he
25698.168 slowly crossed his arms without saying a single word, but passing from this calm to mobility, he threw back his head, pointed toward
25707.368 the main door, cutting the air with the edge of his hand, with such force that the sacristans interpreted the gesture as a command and
25715.688 closed the doors; The ensign became restless and hesitated whether to leave or stay, but the preacher was already beginning to speak in a
25723.928 loud, full, and resonant voice: the former housekeeper was definitely intelligent
25729.248 in medicine. Splendorous and dazzling is the altar, wide is the main door, the
25735.008 air is the vehicle of the holy divine word that will issue from my mouth, listen then with the ears of your soul and heart, so that the
25743.528 words of the Lord may not fall on stony ground and be eaten by the birds
25748.568 of Hell, but that you may grow and sprout like a holy seed in the field of our venerable and seraphic PS Francisco. You,
25758.248 great sinners, captives of the Moors of the soul, who infest the seas of eternal life in powerful vessels of the flesh
25767.168 and the world, you who are burdened with the shackles of lust and concupiscence and row in the galleys of the infernal Satan,
25776.568 Look there with reverent compunction at the one who rescues souls from the captivity of the devil, the intrepid Gideon, the valiant David,
25784.448 the victorious Roland of Christianity, the celestial civil guard,
25789.568 braver than all the civil guards together, past and present…–(The ensign wrinkles his brow),–yes, sir ensign,
25799.008 braver and more arrogant, who with no other rifle than a wooden cross, courageously defeats the eternal tulisán of darkness and all of
25808.128 Lucifer’s henchmen and would have eradicated them all forever, if spirits were not immortal. This marvel of divine creation,
25816.568 this impossible portent, is the blessed Diego de Alcalá, who, using a comparison (because comparisons are very helpful
25825.128 in understanding incomprehensible things, as the other said), I say then that this great saint is only the last soldier,
25832.688 a rancher in our most powerful company, commanded from heaven by our seraphic PS Francisco, to which I have the honor of
25840.168 belonging as a corporal or sergeant by the grace of God. The rude indigenous people, as the correspondent reports, did not glean
25848.064 anything from the paragraph other than the words civil guard, tulisán, S. Diego, and S. Francisco. They observed the ill face of the ensign,
25857.384 the bellicose gesture of the preacher, and deduced that he was scolding the former because he did not pursue the tulisanes. San Diego and St. Francis
25866.584 would see to it, and very well, as is proven by a painting in the convent of Manila, in which St. Francis, with only his
25875.144 cord, had held back the Chinese invasion in the early years of the discovery. The devotees were therefore quite overjoyed and thanked
25885.224 God for this help, not doubting that once the tulisanes had disappeared, St. Francis would also destroy the Civil Guards. They redoubled
25893.584 their attention, following Father Dámaso, who continued:  » Your Excellency: Great things are always great things,
25902.504 even compared to small ones, and small things are always small, even
25907.664 compared to great ones. This is what History says, but since History
25912.824 hits the nail on the head and a hundred in the horseshoe, as something made by men, and men make mistakes: to miss is hominum [110] as
25923.184 Cicero says, he who has a mouth makes mistakes, as they say in my country, it turns out
25928.344 that there are deeper truths that History does not tell us. These truths, Your Excellency . Lord, the divine Spirit has said in His supreme wisdom, a
25938.024 wisdom never understood by human intelligence since the times of Seneca and Aristotle, those religious sages of antiquity, until our
25947.544 sinful days, and these truths are that small things are not always small, but rather great, not compared to the small things, but
25957.704 compared to the greatest things of the earth and the sky and the air and the clouds and the waters and space and life and death…
25964.584 « Amen! » replied the VOT teacher and crossed himself. With this figure of speech, which he had learned from a great preacher in
25972.784 Manila, Father Dámaso wanted to surprise his audience, and indeed,
25978.304 His Holy Spirit, enraptured by so many truths, needed to be touched by His foot to remind Him of His mission.
25985.504 « It is clear to you! » said the Spirit from below.
25990.624 Clear before your eyes is the conclusive and overwhelming proof of this eternal philosophical truth! Clear is that sun of virtues,
25999.984 and I say sun and not moon, because there is no great merit in the moon shining during the night: in the land of the blind, the one-eyed man is king;
26007.944 at night a light can shine, a little star: the greatest merit
26014.384 is to be able to shine even in the middle of the day as the sun does: thus
26019.704 Brother Diego shines even among the greatest saints. There you have, clear before your eyes, clear before your impious incredulity, the masterpiece
26027.744 of the Almighty to confound the great ones of the earth, yes, my brothers, clear, clear to all, clear!
26035.704 A man rose pale and trembling and hid in a confessional. He was a liquor seller, dozing and dreamed that
26043.424 the police were asking him for the patent he did not have. It is assured that he did not leave his hiding place during the sermon.
26051.904 Humble and collected saint, your wooden cross—the one with the image was silver—your modest habit honors the great Francis,
26059.824 whose children and imitators we are! We spread your holy race throughout the world, in every corner, in the cities, in the
26068.944 towns, without distinguishing between white and black—(the mayor holds his
26074.584 breath)—suffering abstinences and martyrdoms, your holy race of faith and armed religion—(Ah! the mayor breathes)—that keeps
26083.424 the world in balance and prevents it from falling into the abyss of perdition. The listeners, even Captain Tiago himself, were yawning little by
26091.664 little.
María Clara was not listening to the sermon; she knew Ibarra was nearby and thought of him while fanning herself at the bull belonging to one of the
26101.024 evangelists, which had all the features of a small carabao. We should all know the Holy Scriptures by heart, the lives of
26108.664 the saints, and then I wouldn’t have to preach to you sinners; you should know things as important and necessary as the Lord’s Prayer, even
26117.184 though many of you have already forgotten it, living like Protestants or heretics, who do not respect the ministers of God, like
26125.904 the Chinese people, but you are going to be damned, worse for you, damned! « Oh, that pale Lamasus [111], that one! » murmured the Chinese person Carlos,
26136.424 looking angrily at the preacher, who continued improvising, unleashing a series of apostrophes and imprecations.
26144.184 « You will die in final impenitence, race of heretics! God is
26149.384 already punishing you from this earth with jails and prisons! » Families and women should flee from you; rulers should hang you
26157.704 all so that the seed of Satan does not spread in the Lord’s town!… If you have a bad member that leads you to sin,
26165.384 cut it off, throw it into the fire…! Fray Dámaso was nervous; he had forgotten his sermon and his rhetoric.
26172.864 « Do you hear? » a young student from Manila asked his companion; « shall you cut it off?  » « Oh! Let him do it first! » the other replied, pointing at the
26181.864 preacher. Ibarra became restless; he looked around for a corner,
26187.144 but the entire church was full. María Clara heard and saw nothing as she studied the painting of the blessed souls in purgatory, souls in
26196.104 the form of naked men and women, with mitres, hats, or veils, roasting in the fire and clinging to the cord of St. Francis, which
26205.184 did not break despite so much weight. The Holy Spirit friar, with that improvisation, lost the thread
26211.352 of the sermon and skipped three long paragraphs, pointing incorrectly at Father Dámaso, who was panting from his apostrophe.
26217.872 Who among you sinners listening to me would lick the wounds of a poor and ragged beggar? Who? Let him answer and raise his
26225.632 hand! No one! I already knew it: only a saint like Diego de Alcalá
26231.672 can do it; he licked all the rottenness, saying to an astonished brother: « This is how this sick man is cured! » Oh Christian charity! Oh
26241.072 unparalleled piety! Oh virtue of virtues! Oh inimitable example! Oh
26246.192 spotless talisman!… And he continued with a long list of exclamations, placing his arms
26252.432 in a cross, raising and lowering them as if he wanted to fly or scare the birds.
26258.392 Before dying, he spoke in Latin without knowing Latin. « Amazed, sinners! » You, despite the fact that you study it and are
26265.632 flogged for it, will not speak Latin; you will die without knowing it! Speaking Latin is a grace from God; that is why the Church speaks Latin. I
26273.512 speak Latin too! How could that be? Could God deny this consolation to his beloved Diego? Could he die, could he let him die without speaking
26281.992 Latin? Impossible! God would not be just, he would not be God! He spoke,
26287.072 then, Latin, as the authors of that time bear witness to. And he ended his introduction with the passage that cost him the most work and which
26294.512 he plagiarized from a great writer, Sinibaldo de Mas. I greet you, then, illustrious Diego, honor of our
26302.432 corporation. You are a paragon of virtues, modest with honor, humble with nobility, submissive with fortitude, sober with ambition,
26311.408 hostile with loyalty, compassionate with forgiveness, religious with scrupulous, devout believer, candidly credulous, chaste
26320.368 with love, silent with secrecy, patient with patience, brave with fear, continent with voluptuousness, daring with resolution,
26330.408 obedient with subjection, shy with honor, careful of your interests with detachment, skillful with ability, ceremonious
26340.528 with urbanity, astute with sagacity, merciful with piety, modest with shame, vengeful with courage, poor through industriousness
26349.168 with conformity, prodigal with economy, active with negligence, economical with liberality, innocent with penetration, reformer with
26358.128 consequence, indifferent with a desire to learn. God created you to feel the enchantments of platonic love…! Help me to sing your
26366.288 greatness and your name higher than the stars and clearer than the sun itself that revolves at your feet! Help me, you, ask God for
26375.248 sufficient inspiration by reciting the Hail Mary. They all knelt, raising a murmur like the buzzing of a thousand
26381.088 blowflies. The mayor bent one knee with difficulty, shaking his head in disgust; the second lieutenant was pale and contrite.
26389.568 « To hell with the priest! » murmured one of the two young men who had come from Manila. « Silence! » replied the other, « his wife can hear us. »
26397.208 Meanwhile, Father Dámaso, instead of praying the Hail Mary, scolded his Holy Spirit for having skipped three of his best paragraphs,
26405.248 drank two meringues and a glass of Malaga, certain of finding greater inspiration in them than in all the Holy Spirits, whether made of
26413.408 wood in the form of a dove or made of flesh in the form of a distracted friar. He was about to begin the Tagalog sermon.
26420.832 The devout old woman slapped her granddaughter on the back of her head, who woke up grumpily and asked,
26426.632 « Is it time to cry? » « Not yet, but don’t go to sleep, damn it! » replied the good grandmother.
26432.952 Of the second part of the sermon, that is, the Tagalog, we have only brief sketches. Father Dámaso improvised in this language, not because
26442.192 he was any better at it, but because, considering the provincial Filipinos
26447.792 ignorant of rhetoric, he wasn’t afraid of making blunders in front of them. With the Spaniards, it was a different story: he had heard about
26456.112 the rules of oratory, and among his listeners there might be someone who had attended the lecture halls, perhaps the mayor. Therefore
26466.312 , he wrote his sermons, corrected them, polished them, and then memorized them, rehearsing them for about two days beforehand.
26475.072 It is well known that none of those present understood the whole of the sermon: they were so dull-witted, and the preacher was very profound,
26483.672 as Sister Rufa said. So the audience waited in vain for an
26489.032 opportunity to weep, and the doomed granddaughter of the old pious woman fell asleep again.
26494.832 However, this part had more consequences than the first, at least for some listeners, as we shall see later.
26502.832 He began with a Christian Maná capatir [112], which was followed by an
26507.992 avalanche of untranslatable phrases; he spoke of the soul, of Hell,
26513.192 of the mahal na santo pintacasi [113], of the sinful indigenous people, and of the
26520.392 virtuous Franciscan Fathers. « Menche! » [114] said one of the irreverent Manilans to his
26527.872 companion; « that’s in Greek for me, I’m leaving. » And seeing the doors closed, he left by way of the sacristy, much to
26535.672 the scandal of the people and of the preacher, who turned pale and stopped in the middle of his sentence; Some expected a violent apostrophe,
26544.032 but Father Dámaso simply followed him with his eyes and continued his sermon.
26549.088 Curses were unleashed against the century, against the lack of respect, the nascent irreligiosity. This subject seemed to be his forte,
26557.608 since he seemed inspired and expressed himself with force and clarity. He spoke of sinners who do not confess, who die in prisons
26566.568 without sacraments, of cursed families, of proud and puffed-up mestizos, of wise-guy young men, philosophers or
26576.648 hairy-heads, of lawyers, students, etc. The custom that many have when they want to ridicule their enemies is well known: they bring out the
26586.648 ending in -illo in everything, because the skull seems to give nothing else, and They are very happy. Ibarra heard everything and understood the allusions. Maintaining an apparent
26596.208 tranquility, he looked with his eyes for God and the authorities, but there were only images of saints, and the mayor dozed.
26605.248 Meanwhile, the preacher’s enthusiasm increased by degrees. He spoke of the ancient times when every Filipino, upon meeting a
26612.728 priest, would uncover his head, bend one knee, and kiss his
26618.088 hand. « But now, » he added, « you only take off your salakot or your
26624.608 beaver hat, which you place half-tilted on your head so as not to disturb your hair! You content yourselves with saying: ‘Good morning,
26632.808 among!’ [115] and there are proud students with little Latin, who,
26638.168 because they have studied in Manila or Europe, believe themselves entitled to shake our hands instead of kissing it… Ah! The day of judgment
26646.648 is soon coming, the world is ending, many saints have prophesied it! » It will rain fire, stones, and ashes to punish our pride!
26655.688 And he exhorted the people not to imitate these personages, but to
26661.248 flee and hate them, because they were excommunicated. “Hear what the Holy Councils say!” he exclaimed.
26667.744 “When an indigenous person meets a priest in the street, he will bow his head and offer his
26673.984 neck so that the priest can lean on him; if the priest and the indigenous person are
26679.304 both on horseback, then the indigenous person will stop and
26685.104 reverently take off his salakot or hat; finally, if the indigenous person is on horseback and the priest
26690.544 is on foot, the indigenous person will dismount and will not remount until
26696.024 the priest says, “Sulung!” [116] or is already very far away. This is what the
26702.944 Holy Councils say, and whoever does not obey will be excommunicated.” « And when does one ride a carabao? » a scrupulous peasant asks
26710.104 his neighbor. « Then… go ahead! » replies the latter, who is a casuist.
26715.864 But despite the preacher’s shouts and gestures, many fell asleep or were distracted, for those sermons were the same as always and by everyone else.
26724.704 In vain, some devout women tried to sigh and whine about the sins of the impious; they had to give up their enterprise for
26733.104 lack of partners. Sister Putê herself thought quite the opposite. A man sitting next to her had fallen so asleep that he fell
26741.824 on her, ruining her habit. The good old woman took her
26747.344 clog and began to wake him up with blows, shouting: « Oh! Take away, person, animal, demon, carabao, dog, damn it! »
26756.064 A tumult broke out, as was to be expected. The preacher stopped, raised his eyebrows, surprised by so much commotion. Indignation choked the
26765.224 word in her throat, and all she managed was to bellow, banging her fists on the platform. This had its effect: the old woman dropped her clog,
26773.904 grumbling, and, crossing herself repeatedly, fell devoutly
26779.264 to her knees. « Aaah! Aaah! » the indignant priest finally managed to exclaim, crossing
26785.416 his arms and shaking his head. « That’s why I’ve been preaching to you here all morning, personae! Here, in the house of God, you quarrel and swear
26794.536 , you shameless people! Aaah! You no longer respect anything!… This is the work of the lust and incontinence of the century! I told you so, aaah! »
26804.016 And he continued preaching on this subject for half an hour. The mayor snored, María Clara nodded: the poor thing couldn’t resist
26814.656 sleep, no longer having any painting or image to analyze or distract herself with. Ibarra was no longer impressed by words or
26822.296 allusions; now he thought of a little house on the top of a hill and saw
26827.376 María Clara in a garden. How could men grovel in their miserable villages at the bottom of the valley
26833.976 ! Father Salví had rung the bell twice, but this was only adding fuel to the fire: Brother Dámaso was stubborn and prolonged the
26843.216 sermon. Brother Sibyla bit his lip and repeatedly adjusted his gold-mounted rock crystal glasses: Brother Manuel Martín
26853.176 was the only one who seemed to listen with pleasure, for he smiled. Finally, God said, « Enough! » The orator grew tired and stepped down from the pulpit.
26861.776 Everyone knelt to give thanks to God. The mayor rubbed his eyes, stretched out an arm as if to stretch, and let out a
26870.216 Ah! Deep and yawning. The mass continued. When, as Balbino and Chananay sang Incarnatus est, everyone
26878.296 knelt and the priests bowed their heads, a man whispered in Ibarra’s ear: « During the blessing ceremony, do not leave
26887.456 the priest’s side, do not descend into the pit, do not approach the stone, for your
26893.416 life depends on it! » Ibarra saw Elias, who, having said this, disappeared into the crowd.
26898.496 Chapter 33. THE GOAT The yellow man had kept his word: it was not a simple
26905.92 goose that he had built over the open pit to lower the enormous granite mass; it was not the tripod that Sir Juan
26913.32 had desired to suspend a pulley from its summit, it was something more; it was at the same time a machine, an ornament, but a grandiose and imposing
26922.4 ornament. The confusing and complicated scaffolding rises to a height of eight meters:
26928.64 four thick timbers sunk into the ground served as trusses, held together by colossal diagonal beams,
26937.92 joined together by thick nails driven only halfway in, perhaps because the structure was temporary and could
26946.04 easily be dismantled later. Enormous cables, dangling from all sides,
26951.24 gave the whole structure an air of solidity and grandeur, crowned above by colorful flags, floating pennants, and
26960.4 monstrous garlands of flowers and leaves, artfully interwoven.
26965.84 Up above, in the shadow cast by timbers, garlands, and flags, hangs a colossal three-wheeled pulley,
26975.16 held by ropes and iron hooks. Three cables, even larger than the others, straddle the shining edges
26984.64 of the pulley. These cables, suspended from the center, are cut out to form, along with the excavation of the other stone already placed in the pit, the small space destined to store
26995.04 the history of the day—newspapers, documents, coins, medals, etc.—and perhaps to transmit it to very distant generations. These cables
27004.52 descended from top to bottom, connected to another equally thick pulley attached to the foot of the device, and wound around the cylinder of
27012.92 a winch, held in place by thick timbers. This winch, which can be set in motion by means of two handlebars, increases
27021.664 a man’s strength a hundredfold thanks to a set of toothed wheels, although what is gained in strength is lost in speed.
27029.064 « Look, » said the yellow man, turning the handle. « Look, Ñor Juan, how, with my sole strength, I can raise and lower this
27037.864 immense mass… It is so well arranged that I can adjust
27042.984 the ascent or descent at will, inch by inch, so that a man from the bottom can comfortably adjust both stones
27051.824 while I handle it from here. » Ñor Juan could not help but admire the man who smiled so
27056.904 distinctively. The curious onlookers commented and praised the yellow man. « Who taught you the machinery? » asked Ñor Juan.
27065.384 « My father, my late father! » he answered with his characteristic smile.
27070.944 « And your father? » « Don Saturnino, Don Crisóstomo’s grandfather.
27076.224  » « I didn’t know that Don Saturnino…  » « Oh! He knew many things! Not only did he beat well and expose
27083.144 his workers to the sun; he also knew how to awaken the sleeping and put
27088.784 those awake to sleep. » You’ll see in time what my father taught me, you’ll see!
27094.824 And the yellow man laughed, but in a strange way. On a table, covered with a Persian tapestry, were the
27101.544 lead cylinder and the objects that were to be kept in that kind of tomb:
27106.824 a thick-walled glass box would contain that mummy of an era and would keep for the future the memories of a past.
27115.272 The philosopher Tasio, who was thinking about it there, murmured: « Perhaps one day, when the work that is beginning to be born today, aged
27124.952 after so many vicissitudes, falls into ruins, either to the shocks of nature, or to the destructive hand of man, and
27133.632 ivy and moss will grow over the ruins; then, when time
27139.072 destroy the moss, the ivy, and the ruins, and scatter their ashes to the wind, erasing from the pages of history the memory of it
27147.312 and of those who destroyed it, long lost in the memory of men; perhaps, when the races
27154.352 have been buried or disappeared with the layers of the soil, only by chance will the pick of some miner, striking a spark from the granite, be able
27163.392 to unearth mysteries and enigmas from the heart of the rock. Perhaps the wise men of the nation that inhabits these regions will work, as
27172.592 Egyptologists today work, with the remains of a grand civilization, preoccupied with eternity and unsuspecting that
27181.592 such a long night was about to descend upon it. Perhaps some wise professor will say to his five- and seven-year-old students in a language spoken by all
27190.032 men: Gentlemen! Having carefully studied and examined the objects found in the subsoil of our land, deciphered some
27198.952 symbols, and translated some words, we can, without any fear, presume that these objects belonged to the barbaric age
27208.352 of man, to the dark era we usually call fabulous. Indeed, gentlemen, to give you an approximate idea of ​​the backwardness of
27217.008 our ancestors, it will suffice for me to say that those who lived here
27222.128 not only still recognized kings, but to resolve matters of their internal government, they still had to go to the other end of the
27231.168 world, which is as if we were to say a body that, in order to move, needed to consult its head, which existed in another part of the globe, perhaps in
27240.448 places now hidden by the waves. This incredible imperfection, however improbable it may seem to you, ceases to be so if we consider the
27249.168 circumstances of those beings, whom I hardly dare to call human. In those primitive times, these beings were still
27257.768 (or at least so they believed) in direct relation with their Creator, for they had ministers of the same, beings different from the others and
27265.848 always denominated with the mysterious characters: MRP fray, on whose interpretation our wise men do not agree. According to the
27275.208 mediocre language professor we have, for he only speaks a hundred of the defective languages ​​of the past, MRP would mean Very Rich
27283.328 Owner, for these ministers were a kind of demigods, extremely virtuous, eloquent orators, extremely learned, and despite
27292.768 their great power and prestige, they would never commit the slightest fault, which strengthens my belief by supposing them of a different nature
27300.848 from the others. And if this were not enough to support my opinion, I still have the argument, undeniable and more and more confirmed every day,
27311.648 that such mysterious beings brought God down to earth simply by uttering a few words, which God could only speak
27320.168 through their own mouths, and whom they ate, drank the blood of, and not infrequently
27325.728 gave to common men as well… These and other things the incredulous philosopher put in the mouths of
27332.992 all the corrupted men of the future. Perhaps old Tasio is mistaken, which is very easy, but let us return to our story.
27341.032 In the kiosks that we saw the schoolmaster and students occupying the day before yesterday, a sumptuous and abundant lunch was now being prepared. However
27351.032 , on the table designated for the school children, there wasn’t a single bottle of wine, but fruit was more abundant. In the
27360.472 bower were seats for the musicians and a table covered with sweets and preserves, flasks of water crowned with leaves and flowers
27369.552 for the thirsty public. The schoolmaster had had poles and barriers erected, and
27376.112 pans and pots hung for cheerful games. The crowd, wearing gaily colored costumes, crowded together to escape
27383.312 the bright sun, sometimes under the shade of the trees, sometimes under the arbor. The boys climbed onto the branches and rocks
27391.952 to better see the ceremony, thus compensating for their small stature; they looked with envy at the school children who, clean and well
27399.632 dressed, occupied a place designated for them. The parents were excited; they, poor peasants, would see their children eat.
27409.552 on a white tablecloth almost like the priest and the mayor. Just thinking about it would keep you from hunger, and such an event would be told from father to son.
27418.592 Soon the distant strains of music were heard; it was preceded by a motley crowd, composed of all ages and dressed in all
27427.192 colors. The yellow man grew restless and examined his entire setup with a glance. A curious peasant followed his gaze
27436.232 and observed his every movement: it was Elías, who had also come to witness the ceremony; judging by his salakot and his way of dressing,
27444.912 he was practically unknown. He had secured the best spot, almost right next to the lathe, at the edge of the excavation.
27451.624 With the music came the mayor, the council members, the friars (except for Father Dámaso), and the Spanish employees. Ibarra was conversing with the
27459.864 former, with whom he had become very friendly since he had paid him some fine compliments about his decorations and bands: the
27468.504 aristocratic connoisseurs were His Excellency Captain Tiago’s skinny one; The ensign
27474.544 and some other wealthy people were among the golden throng of young women
27479.824 with their silk parasols. Father Salví remained, as always, silent and thoughtful.
27485.664 « You can count on my support whenever it’s a good deed, » the mayor was saying to Ibarra; « I will provide whatever you
27494.304 need, and if not, I will have the others provide it. » As they drew closer, the young man felt his
27501.984 heart pounding. Instinctively, he glanced at the strange scaffolding erected there; he saw the yellow-faced man greet him respectfully
27511.224 and fix his gaze on him for a moment. With surprise, he discovered Elías, who with a significant blink indicated that he remembered
27521.904 what he had told him in the church. The priest put on his priestly vestments and began the ceremony: the
27529.024 one-eyed head sacristan held the book, and an altar boy held the hyssop and the vessel of holy water. The others, standing around him with their heads uncovered,
27539.544 maintained such profound silence that, despite reading in a low voice,
27544.744 it was clear that Father Salví’s voice trembled. Meanwhile, everything that needed to be put in had been placed in the glass box
27551.704 , such as manuscripts, newspapers, medals, coins, etc., and
27557.704 everything had been enclosed within the lead cylinder, hermetically sealed. « Mr. Ibarra, would you like to put the box back in its place? The priest
27565.584 is waiting for you! » the mayor murmured in the young man’s ear. « Gladly, » he murmured; « but I would be usurping that honorable duty
27574.408 from the clerk: the clerk must attest to the act! » The clerk took it gravely, descended the carpeted stairs that
27583.368 led to the bottom of the excavation, and with due solemnity
27588.808 placed it in the hollow of the stone. The priest then took the hyssop and sprinkled the stones with holy water.
27595.728 The time came for each man to place his spoonful of grout on the surface of the ashlar lying in the pit, so that the other man would
27603.848 fit in properly and get a grip. Ibarra presented the mayor with a trowel, on whose broad
27609.968 silver blade was engraved the date; but before doing so, he gave a speech in Spanish.
27615.968 « Residents of San Diego! » he said with a grave accent, « we have the honor of presiding over a ceremony of an importance that you will understand
27624.368 without us telling you. A school is being founded; the school is the foundation of society, the school is the book where the
27632.128 future of a people is written! Show us the school of a people, and we will tell you what kind of people it is.
27637.968 Residents of San Diego! Bless God, who has given you virtuous priests, and the government of the mother country, which tirelessly spreads
27646.168 civilization throughout these fertile islands, sheltered by her under her glorious mantle! » Bless God, who has taken pity on you
27654.488 by bringing you these humble priests who enlighten you and teach you the divine word! Bless the Government that has made,
27663.528 is making, and will make so many sacrifices for you and your children! And now that the first stone of this transcendental
27670.128 building is being blessed, we, the mayor of this province, in the name of His Majesty
27675.408 the King, may God save you, King of Spain, in the name of the illustrious
27681.288 Spanish government, and under the protection of your immaculate and ever- victorious flag, we consecrate this act and begin the construction
27690.408 of this school! Residents of San Diego, long live the king! Long live Spain! Long live the
27695.648 religious! Long live the Catholic religion! « Long live! Long live! » many voices answered, « Long live the Lord Mayor! »
27703.168 He then majestically descended to the strains of the music he began to play; he placed a few spoonfuls of grout on the
27710.928 stone and with the same majesty as at the beginning, he rose again. The employees applauded.
27716.128 Ibarra offered another silver spoon to the priest who, after fixing his eyes on it for a moment, slowly descended. Halfway down the
27724.128 stairs, he raised his gaze to look at the stone hanging from the powerful cables, but it was only for a second, and he continued
27732.888 descending. He did the same as the mayor, but this time there was more applause. The clerks had been joined by some friars and
27742.928 Captain Tiago. Father Salví seemed to be looking for someone to give the spoon to; he looked doubtfully at María Clara, but changing his mind,
27752.808 offered it to the clerk. The latter, out of gallantry, approached María Clara, who smiled and refused. The friars, the clerks, and the ensign
27763.128 all got off one after another. Captain Tiago was not forgotten. Ibarra was missing, and was about to order the yellow man to
27770.808 lower the stone when the priest remembered the young man and said to him in a joking tone, affecting familiarity:
27778.728 « Aren’t you putting your spoon in, Señor Ibarra?  » « You’d be a Juan Palomo; I’ll cook it and eat it myself! »
27785.448 he replied in the same tone. « Come on! » said the mayor, gently pushing him. If not, I give
27791.688 orders that the stone not be lowered, and we will remain here until Judgment Day. » Faced with such a terrible threat, Ibarra had to obey. He exchanged the small
27801.352 silver trowel for a large iron one, which made some people smile, and calmly advanced. Elías looked at him with
27809.152 an indefinable expression; upon seeing him, one would have thought his whole life was concentrated in his eyes. The yellow man gazed into the abyss
27817.952 at his feet. Ibarra, after casting a quick glance at the stone hanging
27824.112 over his head and another at Elías and the yellow man, said to Ñor Juan in a somewhat trembling voice:
27831.312 « Give me the bucket and get me another trowel up above! » The young man was left alone. Elías was no longer looking at him: his eyes were fixed
27838.832 on the hand of the yellow man, who, bent over the grave, anxiously followed the young man’s movements.
27844.752 The sound of the scoop stirring the mass of sand and lime could be heard through the faint murmur of the employees, who were congratulating
27853.752 the mayor on his speech. Suddenly, a loud crash erupted: the pulley, attached to the base of the
27860.112 derrick, jumped, and after it, the winch, which struck the apparatus like a battering ram. The timbers swayed, the ties flew, and everything collapsed
27868.712 in a second with a terrifying crash. A cloud of dust rose: a scream of horror, composed of a thousand voices, filled the air.
27878.952 Almost everyone fled and ran; very few rushed into the pit. Only María Clara and Father Salví remained in their place, unable to move,
27888.552 pale and speechless. When the dust had somewhat dissipated, they saw Ibarra
27894.272 standing among beams, reeds, and cables, between the winch and the mass of stone, which, descending so rapidly, had shaken and crushed everything
27902.592 . The young man still held the spoon in his hand and stared with terrified eyes at the corpse of a man lying at his feet, half
27912.192 buried among the beams. “Aren’t you dead?” “Are you still alive?” “For God’s sake, speak up
27918.424 !” said some of the employees, filled with terror and interest. “Miracle! Miracle!” cried some of them.
27926.824 “Come and take out the corpse of this wretch!” said Ibarra, as if awakening from a dream.
27932.984 Hearing his voice, María Clara felt her strength leave her and she fell half-fainting into the arms of her friends.
27939.864 There was great confusion: everyone was talking, gesticulating, running from one place to another.
27945.264 From side to side, they went down into the grave, they came up, all stunned and dismayed.
27952.064 « Who is the dead man? Is he still alive? » asked the ensign. They recognized the corpse as the yellow-faced man standing beside
27959.144 the lathe. « Let the master builder be prosecuted! » was the first thing
27964.184 the mayor could say. They examined the corpse, placed their hands on its chest, but the heart was no longer beating. The blow had hit him in the head, and
27972.584 blood was gushing from his nose, mouth, and ears. They saw strange marks on his neck: four deep depressions on one side and
27981.504 one on the other, although somewhat larger: to see them, one would have thought
27986.904 a steel hand had grasped him like a pair of pincers. The priests warmly congratulated the young man and shook his
27993.624 hand. The humble-looking Franciscan, who served as the Holy Spirit to Father Dámaso, said with tearful eyes:
28001.504 « God is just, God is good!  » « When I think that moments before he was there! » one of the
28007.464 employees said to Ibarra, « I say! If I were the last one, Jesus!  » « My hair stands on end! » another bald man said.
28015.624 « Well, it’s a good thing that happened to you and not me! » an old man murmured, still trembling.
28022.184 « Don Pascual! » some Spaniards exclaimed. « Gentlemen, I said that because the gentleman didn’t die: if I hadn’t been
28030.584 crushed, I would have died later just thinking about it. » But Ibarra was already far away, learning about María Clara’s condition.
28039.192 « Let this not prevent the celebration from continuing, Señor de Ibarra! » the mayor said. « Praise God! The dead man is neither a priest nor
28046.672 a Spaniard. » We must celebrate your salvation. Just look, if the stone catches you underneath!
28052.752 « There are presentiments, there are presentiments! » exclaimed the clerk. « I already said it: Señor Ibarra was not going down at ease. I
28061.832 already saw it!  » « The dead man is nothing more than an indigenous person!  » « Let the celebration continue! Music! Sadness does not resurrect the dead
28069.552 ! Captain, the proceedings will be carried out here!… Let the director come!… Arrest the foreman! »  »
28076.992 To the stocks with him!  » « To the stocks! Hey! Music, music! To the foreman!
28083.472  » « Mayor, » Ibarra replied gravely. « If sadness will not
28088.712 resurrect the dead, even less will the imprisonment of a man about whose guilt we know nothing achieve it. I stand guarantor for his person and ask for
28097.592 his freedom for a few days at least.  » « Good! Good! But do not reoffend! »
28102.632 All sorts of rumors circulated. The idea of ​​a miracle was already accepted. Friar Salví, however, seemed to take little pleasure in the miracle,
28111.512 which was attributed to a saint of his congregation and parish. There were also those who added that they had seen a figure dressed in a dark
28119.112 Franciscan robe descend into the pit as everything collapsed . There was no doubt: it was Saint Diego himself. It was
28127.832 also known that Ibarra had heard mass, but the yellow man had not; as clear as sunlight.
28133.672 « See? You didn’t want to hear mass, » a mother would say to her son. « If I hadn’t
28139.072 beaten you to force you, you’d be going to court like that,
28144.192 in a cart!  » Indeed, the yellow man or his corpse, wrapped in a mat,
28150.152 was being taken to court. Ibarra ran home to move. « Bad start, hum! » said old Tasio, walking away.
28158.872 Chapter 34. FREE THOUGHT. Ibarra was finishing getting ready when a servant announced
28165.472 that a peasant was asking for him. Supposing it was one of his workers, he ordered him to be taken to
28171.832 his office or study room, a library as well as a
28177.392 chemical laboratory. But with surprise, he saw the stern and mysterious figure of Elias there. « You saved my life, » he said in Tagalog, understanding
28185.512 Ibarra’s movement. « I have paid you half my debt and you have nothing to thank me for, quite the contrary. I have come to ask you a favor…
28194.472  » « Talk! » the young man replied in the same language, surprised by the seriousness of the peasant.
28200.712 Elias fixed his gaze on Ibarra’s eyes for a few seconds and replied: « When the justice of men wishes to clarify this mystery,
28209.552 I beg you not to speak to anyone about the warning I gave you in the church.  » « Negligence, » replied the young man with a certain tone of disgust; « I know they
28217.072 are persecuting you, but I am no informer.  » « Oh, it’s not for me, it’s not for me! » exclaimed Elias with a certain vivacity and
28223.512 haughtiness; « it’s for you: I fear nothing from men. » Our young man’s surprise increased: the tone in which the
28232.352 peasant, formerly a pilot, spoke was new and did not seem to be related either
28238.512 to his status or his fortune. « What do you mean? » he asked, questioning the
28244.672 mysterious man with his eyes. « I do not speak in riddles; I try to express myself clearly. For
28250.192 your greater safety, it is necessary that your enemies consider you unprepared and trusting.  »
28256.992 Ibarra stepped back. « My enemies? Do I have enemies? » « We all have them, sir, from the smallest insect to the
28264.232 smallest man, from the poorest to the richest and most powerful! Enmity is the law of life!  »
28269.872 Ibarra looked at Elías in silence. « You are neither a pilot nor a peasant! » he murmured.
28275.44 « You have enemies in high and low places, » Elías continued, not noticing the young man’s words. « You are contemplating a great undertaking,
28284.0 you have a past. Your father and your grandfather have had enemies, because they had passions, and in life it is not criminals who
28293.0 provoke the most hatred, but honorable men.  » « Do you know my enemies? »
28298.68 Elías didn’t answer immediately and meditated. « I knew one, who is dead, » he replied. « Last night I discovered that
28305.76 he was plotting something against you, through some words exchanged with a
28311.04 stranger who got lost in the crowd. This one won’t be eaten by the fish like his father: you’ll see him tomorrow, » he said. These words
28319.32 caught my attention not only because of their meaning, but also because of the person who uttered them, who had presented himself to the foreman a few days earlier, with
28327.16 the express desire to supervise the stone-laying work, asking for no large salary and displaying great knowledge. I
28335.56 had no reason to believe his ill will, but something inside me told me that my presumptions were correct, and for this reason I chose,
28344.72 to warn you, a time and occasion appropriate so that you could not ask me questions. You already saw the rest.
28352.52 Elías had been silent for a long time, and Ibarra had not yet answered or said a word. He was thoughtful.
28359.6 « I’m sorry that man is dead! » he replied finally.  » Something more could have been learned about him! »
28364.64 « If he had lived, he would have escaped the trembling hand of blind human justice. God has judged him, God has killed him, God
28373.152 be the only Judge! » Chrysostom looked for a moment at the man who was thus addressing him, and uncovering
28378.432 his muscular arms, covered with bruises and great contusions, said, « Do you also believe in miracles? » he said, smiling; « see the miracle
28387.272 of which the people speak!  » « If I believed in miracles, I would not believe in God: I would believe in a
28393.752 deified man, I would believe that man had truly created God in
28399.792 his own image and likeness, » he answered solemnly: « but I believe in Him; I have
28405.352 felt His hand more than once. When everything was collapsing, threatening destruction to all that was in the place, I—I held the
28413.752 criminal, I stood by him: he was wounded, and I am safe and sound.
28419.272  » « You? So you? » « Yes! I held him when he tried to escape, once his
28426.952 fatal work had begun: I saw his crime. And I tell you: let God be the sole judge among
28432.192 men, let Him be the only one who has the right to life; « Let
28437.352 man never think of replacing him! » « And yet, this time you…
28442.472  » « No! » Elias interrupted, guessing the objection, « it’s not the same thing. When a man condemns others to death or destroys
28450.752 their future forever, he does so without restraint and has the power
28455.792 of other men to carry out his sentences, which after all may be mistaken or erroneous. But I, by exposing the criminal
28464.032 to the same danger that he has prepared for the others, participated in the same risks. I didn’t kill him; I let the hand of God kill him.
28472.752 « Don’t you believe in chance?  » Believing in chance is like believing in miracles: both presuppose
28479.552 that God doesn’t know the future. What is a miracle? A contradiction, a disruption of natural laws. Unforeseen circumstances and contradictions
28488.072 in the Intelligence that directs the machine of the world signify two great imperfections. « Who are you? » Ibarra asked again with some fear. « Have you
28496.784 studied?  » « I’ve had to believe a lot in God, because I’ve lost faith in men, » the pilot replied, evading the question.
28504.104 Ibarra thought he understood that persecuted young man: he denied human justice
28509.744 , he ignored man’s right to judge his equals, he protested against the strength and superiority of certain classes over
28518.264 others. « Nevertheless, you must admit the necessity of human justice, however imperfect it may be, » he replied. « God, no matter how many ministers
28528.064 He has on earth, cannot—that is, He does not clearly express His judgment to settle the millions of disputes that our
28536.504 passions arouse. It is necessary, it is necessary, it is right that man should sometimes judge his fellow men!
28542.824  » « Yes, to do good, not evil, to correct and improve, not to destroy, because if his judgments fail, he does not have the power to
28551.744 remedy the evil he has done. But, » he added, changing his tone, « this discussion is beyond my strength, and I will detain you now while
28560.464 you are awaited. Do not forget what I just told you: you have enemies; preserve yourselves for the good of your country. »
28568.264 And he took his leave. « When will I see you again? » Ibarra asked. « Whenever you wish and whenever I can be useful to you. » I am still
28575.704 your debtor! Chapter 35. THE DINNER There under the decorated kiosk the great men of the
28582.744 province were eating. The mayor occupied one end of the table; Ibarra, the other. To
28588.304 the young man’s right sat María Clara, and the clerk to his left. Captain Tiago, the ensign, the gobernadorcillo, the friars,
28598.464 the clerks, and the few young ladies who had remained sat,
28604.104 not according to rank, but according to their inclinations. The meal was quite lively and cheerful, but, halfway through,
28611.984 a telegraph clerk came in search of Captain Tiago, bringing a dispatch. Captain Tiago naturally asked permission to read it,
28621.488 and naturally everyone begged him. The worthy Captain first frowned, then raised his eyebrows; his
28627.848 face paled, then lit up, and, hastily folding the document and rising:
28634.208 « Gentlemen, » he said, bewildered, « His Captain General comes this afternoon to honor my house! »
28639.328 And he runs off, taking the report and the napkin with him, but without a hat, harassed by exclamations and questions.
28646.168 The announcement of the arrival of the tulisanes would not have had more effect. « But listen! » « When are you coming? » « Tell us! » « Your Excellency! »
28655.888 Captain Tiago was already far away. « Your Excellency is coming and staying at Captain Tiago’s house! » some exclaimed,
28663.568 not considering that the daughter and future son-in-law were there. « The choice couldn’t have been better! » the latter replied.
28669.328 The friars looked at each other; the look meant: The Captain
28675.728 General is doing something wrong; he’s offending us; they think like this, they keep quiet , and no one expresses their thoughts.
28681.928 « They’d already spoken to me about this yesterday, » said the mayor, « but then it hadn’t been decided yet.
28688.648  » « Do You know, Mr. Mayor, how long the Captain General plans to stay here? » the ensign asked anxiously.
28696.328 « Not with certainty; He likes to spring surprises. « Here come more dispatches! »
28703.088 They were for the mayor, the ensign, and the governor, announcing the
28708.168 same thing. The friars note clearly that none of them is addressed to the priest. « We’ll be there at four in the afternoon, gentlemen! » the mayor says
28717.288 solemnly. « We can eat in peace! » Leonidas couldn’t have said anything better at Thermopylae: « Tonight
28725.328 we’ll dine with Pluto! » The conversation resumed its ordinary course.
28730.64 « I notice the absence of our great preacher! » said timidly one of the employees, with a harmless appearance, who hadn’t opened
28738.88 his mouth until lunchtime and was now speaking for the first time all morning. Everyone who knew the story of Crisóstomo’s father made
28747.12 a movement and a wink that seemed to say: « Come on! At the first cork, you’ll get beaten! » But some more benevolent ones answered:
28757.2 « You must be a little tired…  » « What a little? » exclaimed the ensign; « you must be exhausted and, as they say
28764.08 around here, down on your luck. Watch your talk!  » « A superb, gigantic sermon! » said the clerk.
28771.08 « Magnificent, profound! » added the correspondent. « To be able to talk so much, you need to have the lungs he
28778.28 has, » observed Father Manuel Martín. The Augustinian granted him nothing but lungs.
28783.8 « And your ease of expression, » added Father Salví. « Do you know that Mr. Ibarra has the best cook in
28790.08 the province? » said the mayor, cutting off the conversation. « That’s what I was saying, but your beautiful neighbor doesn’t want to grace the table, since
28797.8 she barely eats a bite, » replied one of the employees. María Clara blushed.
28802.84 « I thank the gentleman… he takes too much care of me, » she stammered timidly, « but… »
28808.64 « But you honor her enough just by your attendance, » concluded the gallant mayor, and turning to Father Salví:
28816.28 « Father, » he added aloud, « I notice that all day long you are Chapter 36.
28822.64 R. silent and thoughtful…  » « The mayor is a terrible observer! » exclaimed Father Sibyla
28828.52 in a particular tone. « That’s my habit, » stammered the Franciscan; « I like to listen more than
28834.56 I like to speak. » « Your Excellency always focuses on winning, not losing! » the second lieutenant
28840.48 said jokingly . Father Salví didn’t take the matter lightly: his eyes lit up for a moment
28846.44 , and he replied: « Your Excellency knows very well that these days I’m not the one who
28852.64 wins or loses the most!  » The second lieutenant covered up the blow with a fake laugh and didn’t take the
28857.96 hint. « But, gentlemen, I don’t understand how one can speak of profits or losses, » the mayor intervened. « What would those
28867.84 amiable and discreet young ladies, who honor us with their presence, think of us? To me, young women are like Aeolian harps in the middle of the night:
28877.68 one must listen to them and listen attentively, so that their ineffable harmonies, which elevate the soul to the celestial spheres of the infinite
28887.56 and the ideal…  » « Your Excellency is waxing poetic! » the clerk said happily, and they both
28893.96 drained their glasses. « I can’t help it, » says the mayor, wiping his lips. « Opportunity,
28899.72 if it doesn’t always make the thief, makes the poet. In my youth, I composed verses, and certainly not bad ones.
28907.16  » « So Your Excellency has been unfaithful to the Muses by following Themis! » says our mythical or mythological correspondent emphatically.
28914.4 « Psh! What do you want? To rise up the social ladder has always been
28919.96 my dream. Yesterday I picked flowers and sang songs; today I wield the rod of justice and serve humanity; tomorrow…
28928.56  » « Tomorrow, Your Excellency will throw the rod into the fire to warm himself with it in the winter of life and take up a ministerial portfolio, » adds
28937.88 Father Sibyla. « Psh! Yes… no… being a minister is not exactly my golden ideal:
28944.16 any upstart can become one. » A villa in the north to spend the summer, a hotel in Madrid and some properties in Andalusia for the
28952.96 winter… We will live remembering our beloved Philippines!… Voltaire will never say of me: We never were at these people who
28962.0 would enrich us and slander them [117]. The employees believed that HE
28969.248 had said a joke and began to laugh in celebration; the friars imitated them, for they did not know that
28977.008 Voltaire was the Voltaïré so often cursed by them and put in hell. However, Father Sibyla knew this and became serious,
28985.608 supposing that the mayor had uttered a heresy or impiety. In the other kiosk the children were eating, presided over by their teacher. For
28993.888 Filipino children, they made quite a lot of noise, for generally at the table
28999.328 and in front of other people they are more likely to be short-sighted than loose. Anyone who made a mistake in the use of cutlery was corrected by a neighbor;
29008.968 from this a discussion would arise, and both would find supporters: some
29014.088 would opt for the spoon, others for the fork or the knife. And since they did not consider anyone an authority, there would be a God-
29022.688 is-Christ argument, or more clearly, a discussion among theologians. The fathers would wink at each other, nudge each other, and make signs, and in their smiles
29032.608 one could see that they were happy. « Okay! » a peasant woman would say to an old man who was grinding buyo in his
29039.008 kalikut [118]; « even if my husband doesn’t want it, my Androy will be a priest. We are truly poor, but we will work, and if
29048.448 necessary, we will beg. There is no shortage of people who will give money so that the poor can be ordained. Doesn’t Brother Mateo, a man who cannot
29057.168 lie, say that Pope Sixtus was a carabao shepherd in Batangas? » Well , look at my Andoy! Look, he doesn’t already have the face of Saint Vincent!
29066.408 And the good mother’s mouth watered as she watched her son grasp
29071.568 the fork with both hands. « God help us! » added the old man, chewing his sapá. « If Andoy becomes
29078.048 Pope, we’ll go to Rome, hehe! I can still walk quite well. And if
29083.488 I die… hehe!  » « Don’t worry, Grandfather! Andoy won’t forget that you
29090.288 taught him to weave cane baskets and dikines.
29097.008  » « You’re right, Petra; I also believe that your son will be a great thing …
at least a patriarch. I haven’t seen another who
29105.56 learned the trade in less time! Yes, he’ll remember me when the Pope or bishop is busy making baskets for his cook. He’ll say masses for my
29114.72 soul, hehe! » And the good old man, with this hope, fully loaded his kalikut with
29120.56 a large buyo. « If God hears my prayers and my hopes are fulfilled, I will say to Andoy:
29128.36 Son, take away all our sins and send us to heaven. We will no longer need to pray, fast, or buy papal bulls. Anyone who has a son
29137.96 who is a saintly Pope can commit sins!  » « Send him home tomorrow, Petra, » the old man said enthusiastically; « I’ll
29144.48 teach him how to work the nitô! » [120] « Hum! Abá! What do you think, grandfather? Do you think priests
29151.08 still move their hands? The priest, although he is only a priest, only works at mass… when he is walking around! The archbishop no longer walks around,
29160.48 he says mass sitting down; so the Pope… the Pope will say it in bed, with a fan! What did you imagine? »
29166.6 « It wouldn’t hurt, Petra, if he knew how to prepare nitô. It’s good that he could sell salakots and flasks so he wouldn’t have to beg,
29176.84 as the priest does here every year in the name of the Pope. It makes me feel sorry to see a poor saint, and I always give what I save.
29184.8  » Another peasant came up and said, « It’s decided, cumare, my son has to be a doctor; there’s no way
29190.92 to be a doctor ! » « Doctor! Be quiet, cumpare [121], » Petra answered; « there’s no way
29196.4 to be a priest!  » « Priest? Brr! Priest? The doctor gets paid a lot of money, the sick
29202.32 venerate him, cumare!  » « Please! » The priest, by turning around three or four times and saying déminos
29207.56 pabiscum, eats God and receives money. Everyone, even the women, tells him their secrets!
29213.64  » « And the doctor? Well, what do you think the doctor is? » The doctor sees everything you women have, he takes the pulses of the dalagas…
29221.488 I’d only like to be a doctor for a week! « And the priest? Doesn’t the priest also see what your doctor does? And
29228.408 even better! You know the saying: a fat hen, a round leg for the priest.
29233.848  » « So what? Do doctors eat dried sardines? Do their
29239.128 fingers hurt eating salt?  » « Does the priest get his hands dirty like your doctors? That’s why he has
29244.328 large estates, and when he works, he works with music and the sacristans help him.
29250.568  » « And confessing, cumare? Isn’t that a job?  » « What a job! You wish you were confessing everyone
29257.728 ! We work and sweat to find out what the men and women are doing, what our neighbors are doing! » The priest does nothing but
29266.208 sit, and they tell him everything; sometimes he falls asleep, but he lets out a few
29271.248 Or three blessings and we’re children of God again! I would like to be
29276.568 a priest on a Lenten afternoon! « And the… the preaching? You won’t tell me that isn’t work. Just see
29283.088 how the old priest was sweating this morning! » objected the man, who felt he was retreating.
29290.328 « Preaching? Is preaching work? Where’s your senses? I would like to be talking for half a day from the pulpit, scolding and
29299.248 chiding everyone, without anyone daring to reply, and
29304.448 still getting paid for it! I would like to be a priest just one morning when those who owe me are hearing Mass! Just look, just look at Father Dámaso,
29312.688 how he’s getting fat from so much scolding and hitting! » Indeed, Father Dámaso came along with the gait of a fat man, half
29319.408 smiling, but in such a malicious manner that Ibarra, upon seeing him, lost the thread of his speech.
29325.048 Father Dámaso was greeted, albeit somewhat strangely, with signs of joy by everyone except Ibarra. They were already at
29333.528 dessert and the champagne was foaming in the glasses. Father Dámaso’s smile turned nervous when he saw María Clara
29342.392 sitting to Crisóstomo’s right; but, taking a chair next to
29347.632 the mayor, he asked amid a significant silence: « Was something being discussed, gentlemen? Go on! »
29354.552 « It was being offered, » replied the mayor. « Mr. Ibarra was mentioning all those who had helped him in his philanthropic enterprise and was speaking of the
29363.872 architect, when Your Excellency…  » « Well, I don’t understand architecture, » interrupted Father
29369.072 Dámaso, « but I laugh at architects and the fools who come to them. » There it is: I drew up the plan of that church, and it’s
29380.072 perfectly constructed: that’s what an English jeweler who stayed
29385.192 at the convent one day told me. To draw up a plan, you only need two brain cells! « However, » replied the mayor, seeing that Ibarra remained silent, « when
29393.312 it comes to certain buildings, for example, like this school, we need an expert! »
29400.032 « What expert, what experts! » exclaimed Father Dámaso mockingly . « Anyone who needs experts is a little dog! You’d have to be more
29406.672 stupid than the indigenous people, who build their own houses, not to
29411.792 know how to build four walls and put a loft on top, which is all a school! »
29417.552 Everyone looked at Ibarra, but although he turned pale, he continued as if conversing with María Clara.
29424.152 –But consider, Your Excellency… –Look,–continues the Franciscan, not letting the
29430.752 Mayor speak,–look how one of our lay brothers, the most stupid we have,
29435.792 has built a good, pretty, and cheap hospital. He made people work well and only paid eight centavos a day to those who still had
29443.912 to come from other towns. He knew how to treat them, not like lunatics and half-breeds, who spoil them by paying them three or four reales.
29453.192 –Your Excellency says he only paid eight centavos? Impossible!–says the
29458.968 Mayor to change the course of the conversation. –Yes, sir, and that’s what those who pride themselves on being good
29464.688 Spaniards should imitate. You see, since the Suez Canal was opened, corruption has come here. Before, when we had to round the Cape,
29473.448 not so many lost souls came, nor did others go there to perish! « But, Father Dámaso! »
29480.008 « You already know what an indigenous person is like: as soon as he learns something, he kicks you out of being a doctor. All those brats who go to Europe…
29488.368  » « But, listen, Your Excellency! » interrupted the mayor, who was becoming worried by
29493.688 the aggressiveness of those words. « They’re all going to end up as they deserve, » continued the friar; « the hand of
29500.168 God is visible in their midst; you’d have to be blind not to see it. The parents of such vipers already receive their punishment in this life… they
29509.648 die in prison, ha ha! As if to say, they have nowhere to… »
29514.688 But he didn’t finish the sentence. Ibarra, livid, had been following him with his eyes; upon hearing the allusion to his father, he stood up and, with a single leap,
29524.408 brought his robust hand down on the priest’s head, who fell backward, stunned.
29530.048 Filled with surprise and terror, no one dared to intervene. « Far away! » cried the young man in a terrible voice, and stretched out his hand to a
29538.568 sharp knife while holding the friar’s neck with his foot, as he recovered from his daze; « Whoever doesn’t want to die, don’t
29546.608 come near! » Ibarra was beside himself: his body was trembling, his eyes were rolling
29552.608 threateningly in their sockets. Fray Dámaso, making an effort, stood up, but he, grabbing him by the neck, shook him until he was on his knees
29562.248 and bending him over. « Señor de Ibarra! Señor de Ibarra! » some stammered.
29567.768 But no one, not even the ensign himself, dared to come near, seeing the knife flash, calculating the young man’s strength and state of mind
29576.728 . Everyone felt paralyzed. « You there! You’ve kept quiet, now it’s my turn. I
29584.96 prevented him. God will bring him to me, may God judge! » The young man was breathing heavily, but with an iron grip he
29593.0 held the Franciscan, who struggled in vain to free himself. “My heart beats calmly, my hand is secure.”
29599.64 And looking around him, he said, “Besides, is there anyone among you, anyone who has not loved his father, who has hated his memory,
29608.6 anyone born in shame and humiliation? Do you see? Do you hear that silence? Priest of a God of peace, with your mouth full of
29616.44 holiness and religion, and your heart full of misery, you should not have known what a father is… you should have thought of your own! Do you see? Among that
29625.64 crowd you despise, there is not one like you! You are judged!” The people surrounding him, believing that he was about to commit murder,
29634.88 made a movement. “Away!” he shouted again in a threatening voice. “What! Are you afraid that
29639.92 I will stain my hand with impure blood?” Have I not told you that my heart beats peacefully? Far be it from us! Listen, priests, judges, you who think you are
29649.04 other men and attribute other rights to yourselves! My father was an honorable man; ask this people who venerate his memory. My father
29656.88 was a good citizen: he sacrificed himself for me and for the good of his country. His house was open, his table set for the stranger
29665.72 or the exile who came to him in his misery! He was a good Christian: he always did good and never oppressed the helpless, nor distressed
29674.12 the wretched… To this one he opened the doors of his house, made him sit at his table, and called him his friend. How has he
29682.08 responded? He has slandered him, persecuted him, armed ignorance against him, availing himself of the sanctity of his office; he has desecrated his
29690.76 tomb, dishonored his memory, and persecuted him in the very repose
29695.84 of death. And, not content with this, he now persecutes his son! I
29701.072 fled from him, I avoided his presence… You heard him this morning desecrate the pulpit, point me out to popular fanaticism, and I
29709.712 remained silent. Now he comes here to seek my quarrel; I have suffered in silence, to your surprise; but once again he insults the memory
29718.032 most sacred to all children… You who are here, priests, judges, did you see your elderly father wither away
29726.832 working for you, separate from you for your good, die of sadness in prison, yearning to embrace you,
29735.952 seeking a being to console him, alone, sick, while you were abroad?… Did you later hear his name dishonored, did you find
29744.672 his tomb empty when you wanted to pray over it? No? You remain silent,
29749.832 then you condemn him! He raised his arm; but a young woman, swift as light, stepped in between
29757.272 and with her delicate hands stayed his avenging arm: it was Maria Clara.
29762.552 Ibarra looked at her with a look that seemed to reflect madness. Little by little, the clenched fingers of his hands loosened, letting the
29770.792 body of the Franciscan and the knife fall, and covering his face, he fled through the crowd.
29776.272 Chapter 37. COMMENTS. The event soon spread throughout the town. At first, no one
29784.232 wanted to believe it, but, having to give in to reality, everyone broke into exclamations of surprise.
29790.952 Each one, according to his degree of moral elevation, made his comments. « Father Damaso is dead! » some said; « when they lifted him up,
29799.792 his face was covered in blood and he was not breathing.  » « May he rest in peace, but he has only settled his fate. »
29805.712 « Debt! » exclaimed a young man. « Look, what he did this morning at the convent is beyond words.
29812.152  » « What did he do? Did he hit the assistant priest again?  » « What did he do? Let’s see! Tell us.
29819.616  » « Did you see a Spanish mestizo coming out of the sacristy this morning during the sermon?
29826.096  » « Yes! We did. » Father Dámaso noticed him. « Well… after the sermon, he called him over and asked him why
29834.096 he had come out. ‘I don’t understand Tagalog, Father,’ he replied. « And why did you make fun of it, saying it was Greek? » Father
29842.416 Dámaso shouted at him, slapping him. The young man answered, and the two of them exchanged
29848.696 punches until they were separated. « If that happened to me… » a student muttered under his breath.
29855.136 « I don’t approve of the Franciscan’s actions, » replied another, « for religion should not be imposed on anyone as a punishment or a penance; but I almost
29863.056 celebrate it because I know that young man; I know he’s from San Pedro Macati, and he speaks Tagalog well. Now, he wants to be considered a recent arrival
29871.856 from Russia and takes pride in pretending to ignore his parents’ language.  » « Then God creates them and they fight!
29879.856  » « However, we must protest against this act, » exclaimed another student; « to remain silent would be to agree, and what happened could happen to
29887.896 any of us. We’re going back to the times of Nero!  » « You’re wrong! » replied another. « Nero was a great artist, and
29896.256 Father Damaso was a terrible preacher! » The older people’s comments were different.
29901.296 While they waited for the arrival of the captain-general in a small house outside the town, the gobernadorcillo said:
29907.616 « Saying who is right and who is wrong is not an easy thing; However
29912.736 , if Señor Ibarra had been more prudent…
29917.816 « If Father Dámaso had been half as prudent as Señor Ibarra, you probably meant? » Don Filipo interrupted. « The
29924.896 problem is that the roles have been reversed; the young man has shown himself to be an old man, and the old man to be a young man.
29931.096  » « And you say that no one moved, no one came to separate them, except
29936.576 for Captain Tiago’s daughter ? » Captain Martín asks. « None of the
29941.632 friars, nor the mayor? Hmm! It could be worse! I wouldn’t want to be in the young man’s shoes. No one will be able to forgive him for having been
29949.552 afraid of him. It could be worse, hmm!  » « Do you believe it? » Captain Basilio asks with interest.
29954.872 « I hope, » says Don Filipo, exchanging a look with the latter, « that the town will not abandon him. We must think about what his family
29963.072 has done and what he is doing now. » And if by chance, cowed, the people fall silent, their friends…
29970.032 « But, gentlemen, » interrupted the little governor, « what can we do? What can the people do? Whatever happens,
29979.352 the friars are always right.  » « They are always right, because we always agree with them, » replied
29985.952 Don Filipo impatiently, placing emphasis on the word  » always. » « Let’s agree with each other once and then we’ll talk! »
29994.192 The little governor scratched his head and, looking up at the ceiling, replied in a sour voice:
29999.272 « Oh! The heat of the blood! It seems you still don’t know what country we’re in; you don’t know our countrymen. The friars are rich and
30008.392 united, and we are divided and poor. Yes! Try to defend them
30014.712 and you’ll see how they’ll leave you alone in the commitment.  » « Yes! » exclaimed Don Filipo bitterly, « that will happen, as long as people
30022.232 think like that, as long as fear and prudence are synonymous. » More attention is paid to a possible evil than to the necessary good; fear immediately arises
30031.352 , not trust; each person thinks only of themselves, no one of
30036.472 others; that’s why we’re all weak. « Well, think of others before yourself and you’ll see
30042.76 how they’ll leave you hanging! » « Don’t you know the Spanish saying: ‘Charity, properly
30048.24 understood, begins with oneself? ‘ » « You might as well say, » the exasperated lieutenant chief replies, « that
30054.44 cowardice, properly understood, begins with selfishness and ends with
30059.48 shame! I’m submitting my resignation to the mayor right now; I’m tired of making a fool of myself without being useful to anyone… Goodbye! »
30067.36 The women thought differently. « Oh! » sighed a woman with a kind expression; « young people
30073.88 will always be like that. If their good mother were alive, what would she say? Oh, God! When I think that the same thing could happen to my son, who also
30082.4 has a hot head… oh, Jesus! I almost envy his dead mother… I would die of grief.
30089.2  » « Well, not me, » replied another woman; « I wouldn’t be sorry if such a thing happened
30094.44 to my two sons.  » « What are you saying, Captain Maria? » exclaimed the first, clasping her hands.
30099.96 « I like it when children defend the memory of their parents, Captain Tinay; what would you say if one day, as a widow, you heard someone talking about your husband,
30108.88 and your son Antonio lowered his head and remained silent? » “I would deny him my blessing!” exclaims a third, Sister
30116.08 Rufa, “but… ” “Deny him my blessing, never!” interrupts the kind-hearted Captain
30121.8 Tinay, “a mother shouldn’t say that… but I don’t know what I would do … I don’t know… I think I would die… no! My God! but I wouldn’t
30131.56 want to see him again… but what are your thoughts, Captain Maria? ” “However,” added Sister Rufa, “we mustn’t forget that it is a great
30140.72 sin to lay a hand on a sacred person. ” “The memory of parents is more sacred!” replies Captain
30147.8 Maria. “No one, not even the Pope, and even less so Padre Damaso, can profane
30152.944 such a holy memory! ” “That’s true!” murmured Captain Tinay, admiring the wisdom of
30158.784 both of them; “where do you get such good reasons?” “But what about excommunication and damnation?” retorted Rufa. “What
30166.424 are honors and a good name in this life if we are damned in the next? Everything passes quickly… but excommunication… insulting
30175.424 a minister of Jesus Christ… no one forgives that but the Pope! ” “God, who commands us to honor our father and mother, will forgive him; God will not
30182.584 excommunicate him! And I tell you: if that young man comes to my house, I will receive him
30188.584 and speak with him; if I had a daughter, I would want him as a son-in-law: a
30193.624 good son will be a good husband and a good father, believe me, Sister Rufa! ” “Well, I don’t think so; say what you will, and even if it seems
30202.064 you are right, I will always believe the priest more. Above all, my
30207.104 soul except me, what are you saying, Captain Tinay? ” “Ah! What do you want me to say! You are both right; the priest is right,
30214.624 but God must be right too!” I don’t know, I’m nothing but a fool… What I’m going to do is tell my son not to study
30222.144 anymore! They say that wise men die by hanging. Holy Mary! My son, who wanted to go to Europe!
30228.304 What do you think you’ll do? Tell him he’s staying by my side; why learn more? Tomorrow or
30233.784 the day after we die; the wise man dies like the ignorant man… the point is to live in peace.
30239.224 And the good woman sighed and raised her eyes to heaven. Well, Captain Maria said gravely, if I were rich like
30246.984 you, I would let my children travel: they are young and must one day become
30252.704 men… I have little time left to live… we would see each other in the next life … Children should aspire to be something more than their parents, and in
30260.904 our bosoms we only teach them to be children. “Oh, what strange thoughts you have!” exclaimed Captain
30268.976 Tinay, clasping her hands. “It seems you did not give birth to your twins in pain!
30274.176 ” “For the same reason that I gave birth to them in pain, raised and educated them despite our poverty, I do not want them, after all the hardships
30284.496 they have cost me, to be only half men… ” “It seems to me you do not love your children as God commands!” said
30293.336 Sister Rufa in a somewhat severe tone. “Forgive me, every mother loves her children in her own way: some love them
30299.576 for themselves, others for themselves, and some for themselves. I am one of the latter; my husband taught me so.
30306.256 ” “All your thoughts, Captain Maria,” said Rufa as if preaching, “are not very religious: become sisters of the Most Holy Rosary,
30315.456 of Saint Francis, of Saint Rita, or of Saint Clare!” « Sister Rufa, when I am a worthy sister of men, I will try to
30322.696 be a sister of the saints, » the other replied smiling. To conclude this chapter of commentaries, and so that readers
30329.936 can see at least in passing what the simple peasants thought of the incident, We will go to the plaza, where some people are conversing under the awning.
30339.216 There we will see an acquaintance of ours, the man who dreamed of doctors of medicine.
30345.416 « What I regret most, » he said, « is that school is never finished!  » « How? How? » asked those present with interest.
30353.376 « My son will no longer be a doctor, but a cart driver! Nothing! There will be no more school!  » « Who says there will be no more school? » asked a rough and robust
30362.296 villager, with wide jaws and a narrow skull. « Me! The white fathers have called Don Crisóstomo plibastiero
30370.056 [122]. There is no more school! » They all stood there, wondering with their eyes. The name was new
30377.056 to them. « And is that name bad? » the rough villager finally dared to ask.
30382.176 « The worst thing one Christian can say to another!  » « Worse than ‘tarantado’ and ‘saragate’? » [123]
30389.696 « If only it weren’t more than that! I’ve been called that several times, and it hasn’t even given me a stomach ache.
30395.456  » « Come on, he’ll be no worse than an indigenous person [124], as the ensign says! »
30401.856 The man who is going to have a son who is a cart driver becomes more gloomy; the other
30407.016 scratches his head and thinks. « Then he’ll be like betelopora [125], as the
30413.856 ensign’s old woman says! Worse than that is spitting in the host.  » « Well, worse than spitting in the host on Good Friday, » he answered
30422.416 gravely. « You remember the word ‘ispichoso,’ which was enough to apply to a man for the civilians of Villa-Abrille to
30429.416 take him to the desert or to jail; for ‘plebestiero’ is much worse. » According to what the telegraph operator and the director said, « a plebistero, »
30437.816 when spoken of by a Christian, a priest, or a Spaniard to another Christian like
30443.416 us, sounds like santusdeus con requimiternam: if they once call you a plebistiero, you might as well confess and pay your debts, for you
30452.736 have no choice but to let yourself be hanged. You know how much the director and the telegraph operator know: one speaks with wires,
30461.616 and the other knows Spanish and can handle nothing but a pen. Everyone was terrified. « Let them force me to wear shoes and drink nothing but that horse urine they call beer my whole life
30471.336 , if I ever let myself be called a plebistero! » the villager swore, clenching his fists. « Who? I,
30480.896 as rich as Don Crisóstomo, knowing Spanish as he does, and being able to eat quickly with a knife and spoon, would laugh at five priests! »
30489.176 –The first civilian I see stealing chickens, I’ll call him a palabistiero….. and I’ll confess immediately!–
30496.976 one of the peasants murmurs in a very low voice, moving away from the group. Chapter 38. THE FIRST CLOUD
30502.656 Less confusion reigned in Captain Tiago’s house than in people’s imaginations . María Clara did nothing but cry and did not listen to the
30510.528 comforting words of her aunt and Andeng, her foster sister.
30515.568 Her father had forbidden her to speak to Ibarra until the priests absolved him from his excommunication.
30521.928 Captain Tiago, who was very busy preparing his house to worthily receive the captain general, had been called to the convent.
30531.048 « Don’t cry, my child, » Aunt Isabel would say, passing the chamois over the shining glass of the mirrors. « They’ll lift the excommunication,
30540.488 they’ll write to the Holy Father… we’ll make a great donation…
30545.728 Padre Dámaso only fainted… he didn’t die!  » « Don’t cry, » Andeng would say in a low voice. « I’ll make you talk to him:
30554.368 what were the confessionals for, if not to commit sin? Everything is forgiven if you just tell the priest!  » « At last, Captain Tiago has arrived! » They searched his face for the answer
30564.648 to many questions, but Captain Tiago’s face betrayed discouragement. The poor man was sweating, he was passing his hand over his forehead
30574.808 , and he couldn’t utter a word. « What’s up, Santiago? » Aunt Isabel asked anxiously.
30581.048 He answered with a sigh, wiping away a tear. « For God’s sake, speak! What’s wrong? »
30587.208 « What I already feared! » she finally bursts out, half in tears. « Everything is lost! Father Damaso orders me to break off the engagement, otherwise
30594.088 I’ll be damned in this life and the next! Everyone tells me the same thing, even Father Sibyla! I must close the doors of my house to him. »
30602.448 and… I owe him more than fifty thousand pesos! I told this to her parents, but they wouldn’t listen to me. ‘What would you rather lose,’ they said,
30611.608 ‘fifty thousand pesos or your life and soul? Oh, Saint Anthony! If only I
30616.648 had known, if only I had known! ‘ María Clara sobbed. ‘Don’t cry, my child,’ she added, turning to her; ‘you’re not like your
30625.248 mother, who never cried… she only cried for whims… Padre Dámaso told me that a relative of his has already arrived from Spain
30634.68 … and he’s destined him for your suitor…’ María Clara covered her ears. ‘But, Santiago, are you crazy?’ Aunt Isabel cried at her; ‘to talk to her about
30644.0 another suitor now! Do you think your daughter changes suitors like she changes her shirt?’ ‘That’s what I thought, Isabel; Don Crisóstomo is rich…
30652.48 Spaniards only marry for the love of money… but what do you want me to do?’ They’ve threatened me with another excommunication… they say that
30659.96 not only my soul is in great danger, but also my body… my body, do you hear? My body!
30665.4 « But you only make your daughter sad! Isn’t
30670.48 the archbishop a friend of yours? Why don’t you write to him?  » « The archbishop is also a friar; the archbishop only does what
30677.2 the friars tell him. But, Maria, don’t cry; the Captain General will come, he’ll want to see you, and your eyes will be red… Oh! I
30686.28 thought I would have a happy afternoon… without this great misfortune I would be the happiest of men, and everyone would envy me… Calm down,
30695.2 my daughter: I am more miserable than you, and I don’t cry! You can have
30700.24 another, better fiancé, but I, I lose fifty thousand pesos! Oh, Virgin
30705.36 of Antipolo, if only I had luck tonight!  » Shots of fire, the rolling of carriages, the galloping of horses, and music playing the
30714.16 royal march announced the arrival of His Excellency the Governor-General of the Philippine Islands. Maria Clara ran to hide in her
30722.28 bedroom… Poor young woman! Rude hands unfamiliar with its delicate fibers are playing with your heart.
30729.144 While the house filled with people, and heavy footsteps, shouts of command, and
30734.704 the clang of sabers and spurs resounded throughout, the distressed young woman lay half-kneeling before a picture of the Virgin, which
30743.744 represented her in that attitude of painful solitude, felt only
30749.024 by Delaroche, as if he had surprised her returning from the tomb of her Son. Maria Clara wasn’t thinking about that mother’s pain, she was thinking
30756.864 about her own. With her head bowed on her chest and her hands resting on the ground, she resembled the stem of a lily bent
30764.944 by the storm. A future dreamed of and cherished for years, whose illusions, born in childhood and grown with youth,
30773.144 shaped the cells of her body, to want to erase it now, with a single word, from her mind and heart! It was as good as paralyzing
30782.144 the heartbeat of one and depriving the other of her light! María Clara was as good and pious a Christian as she was a loving daughter. Not
30790.264 only did the excommunication frighten her: the mandate and the threatened tranquility of her father now demanded the sacrifice of her love. She felt
30799.824 the full force of that affection she hadn’t suspected until then. Once upon a time, there was a river that flowed gently; fragrant flowers
30809.184 carpeted its banks, and its bed was formed by fine sand. Its current was barely ruffled by the wind; one would have thought, upon seeing it, that it was slowing down. But
30818.464 suddenly the channel narrowed, rough rocks barred its way, ancient tree trunks crossed each other, forming a dike—ah! Then the
30827.184 river roars, rises, the waves boil, shakes out plumes of foam, batters the rocks, and hurls itself into the abyss!
30833.744 He wanted to pray, but who prays in despair? One prays when one hopes, and when one doesn’t, and we turn to God, we only breathe out
30843.584 complaints. « My God! » his heart cried, « why separate a man like this, why deny him the love of others? You do not deny him your sun,
30853.064 nor your air, nor hide his sight of your sky. Why deny him love, when without sky, without air, and without sun one can live, but
30861.864 never without love? Would those cries, which men cannot hear, reach the throne of God?
30867.344 Would the Mother of the Wretched hear them? » Alas! The poor young woman, who had never known a mother, dared
30875.344 to confide these sorrows caused by earthly loves to that purest heart, which had only known the love of a daughter and that of
30883.144 a mother. In her sadness, she turned to that divinized image of woman, the most beautiful idealization of the most ideal of creatures,
30891.944 to that poetic creation of Christianity, which unites in itself the two most beautiful states of womanhood, virgin and mother, without their miseries,
30901.584 and whom we call Mary. « Mother, mother! » she moaned. Aunt Isabel came to rescue her. Some friends had arrived,
30910.944 and the Captain-General wanted to speak to her. « Aunt, say I’m sick! » the terrified young woman pleaded.  »
30917.424 They’re going to make me play the piano and sing!  » « Your father promised. Are you going to let someone displease your father? »
30923.144 María Clara stood up, looked at her aunt, twisted her beautiful arms
30928.344 , and stammered: « Oh! If only I had… » But she didn’t finish her sentence and began to dress up.
30934.744 Chapter 39. YOUR EXCELLENCY. « I wish to speak with that young man! » His Excellency said to an aide; « he has
30943.344 awakened my complete interest.  » « They have already gone to fetch him, My General. But there is a young man from Manila here
30949.504 who insistently demands to be brought in. We told him that Your Excellency had no time and that he had not come to hold audiences but to see
30958.504 the town and the procession, but he replied that Your Excellency always has
30963.584 time available to administer justice…  » His Excellency turned to the mayor, marveling.
30968.904 « If I’m not mistaken, » the latter replied with a slight bow, « it is the young man who had a dispute with Father Dámaso this morning
30976.704 over the sermon.  » « Another one? Has that friar intended to stir up the province,
30982.744 or does he believe he is in charge here? Tell the young man to come in! » His Excellency paced nervously from one end of the room to the other.
30990.944 In the anteroom were several Spaniards, mingled with military personnel and authorities from the town of San Diego and the surrounding area: grouped in
30999.864 a circle, they were conversing or arguing. All the friars were also there, except for Father Dámaso, and they wanted to come in to pay their
31008.664 respects to His Excellency . « His Excellency the Captain General begs Your Royal Highness to wait a
31015.064 moment! » said the aide. « Come in, young man! » That Manila native, who confused Greek with Tagalog, entered the room
31023.024 pale and trembling. Everyone was filled with surprise: His Excellency must have been very irritated to
31029.824 dare to keep the friars waiting. Father Sibyla said: « I have nothing to say to you!… I’m wasting time here! »  »
31037.864 I’m saying the same thing, » added an Augustinian. « Shall we go? » « Wouldn’t it be better if we found out what he thinks? » asked
31043.984 Father Salví; « we would avoid a scandal… and… we could remind him… of his duties to religion…
31051.864  » « Your Royal Highnesses may come in, if you please! » said the assistant, leading the young man who didn’t understand Greek, who now came out with a face
31060.424 full of satisfaction. Brother Sibyla entered first; behind them came Father Salví, Father
31066.984 Manuel Martín, and the other religious. They greeted him humbly, except for Father Sibyla, who, even in his bow, retained a certain air of
31075.664 superiority; Father Salví, on the other hand, almost bent at the waist. « Which of Your Royal Highnesses is Father Dámaso? » His Royal Highness asked suddenly
31085.384 , without making them sit down, or inquiring about their health, or addressing them with
31091.008 the flattering phrases to which such high personages were accustomed. « Father Dámaso is not with us, sir! »
31100.488 Father Sibyla replied in almost the same dry tone. « Your Excellency’s servant is lying sick in bed, »
31107.928 Father Salví humbly added. « After having the pleasure of greeting him and learning of Your Excellency’s health, as is fitting for all the
31117.248 king’s good servants and all people of education, we also came on behalf of Your Excellency’s respectful servant who has the misfortune…
31125.648  » « Oh! » the Captain General interrupted, spinning a chair on one foot and smiling nervously. « If all of My Excellency’s servants
31133.728 were like Your Reverence, Father Dámaso would prefer to I myself will serve My Excellency!
31140.288 Their Reverences, who were already standing in body, also remained so in spirit at this interruption.
31148.008 « Please be seated, Your Royal Highness! » he added after a brief pause, softening his tone somewhat.
31154.688 Captain Tiago was wearing a tailcoat and walked on tiptoe; he was leading María Clara by the hand, who entered hesitantly and full of shyness, yet nevertheless
31163.608 made a graceful and ceremonious bow. « Is that young lady your daughter? » asked the Captain
31171.728 General in surprise. « And Your Excellency, My General! » replied Captain Tiago seriously. The mayor and the aides opened their eyes; but His Excellency, without losing
31181.008 his seriousness, extended his hand to the young woman and said affably: « Happy are the parents who have daughters like you, young lady! They have
31188.928 spoken to me of you with respect and admiration… I have longed to see you to thank you for the beautiful act you have performed today
31198.208 .  » I am aware of everything, and when I write to His Majesty’s government, I will not forget your generous behavior . In the meantime, allow me,
31207.768 Mademoiselle, in the name of His Majesty the King whom I represent here, who loves
31213.64 the peace and tranquility of his faithful subjects, and in my own name, in that of a father who also has daughters your age, to offer you my most
31223.12 sincere thanks and propose you for a reward! « Sir! » replied Maria Clara, trembling.
31229.56 He guessed what she meant and replied: « It is very well, Mademoiselle, that you be content with your conscience and
31236.68 with the esteem of your fellow citizens: by faith, it is the best reward,
31242.32 and we should not have asked for more. But do not deprive me of a beautiful opportunity to show that if justice knows how to punish,
31250.04 it also knows how to reward, and that it is not always blind. » All the words in italics were pronounced with greater
31256.44 significance and in a louder voice. “Señor Don Juan Crisóstomo Ibarra awaits orders from
31262.96 Chapter 40. E.!” an aide said loudly. María Clara shuddered.
31269.88 “Ah!” exclaimed the Captain General, “allow me, miss, to express my desire to see you again before leaving this town:
31278.12 I still have some very important things to tell you. Señor Mayor, VS
31283.32 will accompany me during the walk, which I wish to take on foot, after the conference I will have privately with Señor Ibarra.
31291.0 ” “Your Excellency will allow us to warn you,” said Father Salví humbly, “that Señor Ibarra is excommunicated…
31298.04 ” He interrupted him, saying: “I am very glad that I have nothing to deplore except the condition of Padre
31303.96 Dámaso, for whom I sincerely wish a complete recovery, because at his age a trip to Spain for health reasons cannot be very
31312.84 pleasant. But this depends on him… and in the meantime, may God preserve your health.” RR.!
31319.08 Both sides withdrew. « And so much depends on him! » Father Salví murmured as he left.
31324.8 « We’ll see who will make the trip sooner! » another Franciscan added. « I’m leaving right now! » Father Sibyla said angrily.
31332.328 « And we’ll go back to our province! » the Augustinians said. Both sides could not bear that, because of a Franciscan,
31339.288 HE had received them coldly. In the anteroom, they met Ibarra, their host of a few
31345.168 hours. They didn’t exchange greetings with him, but they did exchange glances that spoke volumes.
31350.568 The mayor, on the other hand, when the friars had disappeared, greeted him and extended his hand familiarly, but the
31357.848 arrival of the assistant who was looking for the young man didn’t give rise to any conversation. At the door, he met María Clara: their glances
31366.688 also spoke many things, but quite different from what the friars’ eyes said.
31372.968 Ibarra was dressed in strict mourning. He appeared serene and bowed deeply, even though the friars’ visit did not
31380.928 seem to him to be a good omen. The Captain General took a few steps toward him. « I am very pleased, Señor Ibarra, to shake your
31390.128 hand. Allow me to receive you in my confidence. » His Excellency, indeed, contemplated and examined the young man with marked
31397.888 pleasure. « Sir… such kindness! » « Your surprise on your part offends me; it tells me you did not expect a
31404.768 warm welcome from me: this is doubting my justice!  » « A friendly welcome, sir, for an insignificant subject of Her
31412.488 Majesty like myself, is not justice, it is a favor.  » « Good, good! » said His Excellency, sitting down and pointing to a
31420.368 seat for him. « Let us enjoy a moment of relaxation; I am very pleased with your conduct and have already proposed you to
31428.288 His Majesty’s government for a decoration for the philanthropic thought of erecting
31433.328 a school… Had you addressed yourself to me, I would have witnessed the ceremony with pleasure and perhaps would have saved you some trouble.
31440.216  » « The thought seemed so small to me, » replied the young man, « that I did not believe it worthy enough to distract Your Excellency’s attention from your
31448.056 numerous occupations; besides, it was my duty to first address the
31453.216 highest authority in my province. » He shook his head with a satisfied air, and, adopting an
31459.296 increasingly familiar tone, continued: “As for the disagreement you have had with Father Dámaso,
31466.696 bear no fear or resentment: not a hair of your head will be touched as long as I govern the islands; and as for the excommunication,
31475.816 I will speak to the archbishop later, because it is necessary that we adapt to the circumstances: here we could not laugh about these things in
31484.056 public as in the peninsula or in cultured Europe. Nevertheless, be more prudent from now on; you have placed yourself face to
31493.976 face with religious corporations which, because of their importance and wealth, need to be respected. But I will protect you
31502.056 because I like good children, I like the memory of parents to be honored; I too have loved mine, and by God! I don’t know what
31510.696 I would have done in your place.” And quickly changing the subject, he asked:
31516.416 “I’ve been told you come from Europe.” Were you in Madrid? —Yes, sir, for a few months.
31523.416 —Did you perhaps hear of my family? —Your Excellency had just left when I had the honor of being introduced
31529.536 to them.
—And how then did you come without bringing me any recommendation? —Sir,—replied Ibarra, bowing,—because I do not come directly
31538.336 from Spain, and because, having been told of Your Excellency’s character, I believed that a letter of recommendation would not only be useless, but
31547.576 even offensive: all of us Filipinos are recommended to you. —A smile appeared on the lips of the old soldier, who replied
31556.688 slowly, as if measuring and weighing his words: —I am flattered that you think so, and… so it should be! However,
31565.048 young man, you must know what burdens weigh on our shoulders in the Philippines. Here, we old military men have to do or
31574.528 be everything: king, minister of State, of War, of the Interior, of
31580.128 Public Works, of Grace and Justice, etc., and the worst part is that for each
31585.808 matter we have to consult the distant mother country, which approves or rejects, depending on the circumstances, sometimes blindly! our
31595.328 proposals. As we Spaniards say: he who grasps too much, accomplishes little! We also generally come here with little knowledge of the country and
31603.768 leave it when we begin to get to know it. I can be frank with you,
31608.848 for it would be useless to pretend otherwise. So, if in Spain, where each branch has its minister, born and raised in the same locality,
31617.608 where there is press and public opinion, where the open opposition opens the eyes of the government and enlightens it, everything is imperfect and defective, it is a miracle
31626.768 that here everything is not in turmoil, lacking those advantages, and a more powerful opposition living and plotting in the shadows.
31635.648 We rulers do not lack good will, but we are forced
31640.728 to rely on the eyes and arms of others, whom we generally do not recognize, and who perhaps instead of serving their country, only serve their own
31649.848 interests. This is not our fault, it is due to circumstances; the friars help us a great deal to get through this situation, but they are no longer enough… You
31659.848 inspire my interest and I wish that the imperfection of our current government system wouldn’t harm you in any way… I can’t look
31668.288 after everyone, nor can everyone come to me. Can I be of any use to you? Do you have anything to ask for?
31675.088 Ibarra reflected. « Sir, » he replied, « my greatest wish is the happiness of my country,
31680.648 a happiness that I would like to be due to the mother country and the efforts of my fellow citizens, united by eternal ties of common
31689.688 vision and common interests. What I ask for can only be given by the government after many years of continuous work and wise reforms.
31699.648  » He looked at him for a few seconds, with a look that Ibarra met naturally.
31705.048 « You are the first man I have spoken to in this country! » he exclaimed, extending his hand. « Your Excellency has only seen those who grovel in the city, you have not
31713.608 visited the slandered huts of our towns: Your Excellency would have been able to see true men if to be a man it was enough to have a
31721.648 generous heart and simple customs.  » The Captain General stood up and began pacing up and down
31727.968 the room. « Señor Ibarra, » he exclaimed, suddenly stopping. The young man rose; « perhaps you will leave in a month; your education and your
31738.048 way of thinking are not suited to this country. Sell everything you own, pack your bag, and come with me to Europe: that climate would be more suitable for you.
31747.248  » « I will keep the memory of Your Excellency’s kindness as long as I live! » Ibarra replied, somewhat moved; « but I must live in the country
31754.528 where my parents lived…  » « Where they died, you would say more exactly! Believe me, I perhaps know
31762.528 your country better than you do yourself… Ah! Now I remember, » he exclaimed, changing his tone, « you are marrying a lovely young woman, and I am
31770.648 detaining you here. » Go, go to her side, and for greater
31777.048 freedom, send me the priest, » he added, smiling. « Don’t forget, however, that I want you to accompany me for a walk. »
31785.768 Ibarra bowed and walked away. He called his assistant.
31791.456 « I’m happy! » he said, patting him lightly on the shoulder. « Today
31796.656 I saw for the first time how one can be a good Spaniard without ceasing to be a good Filipino and love one’s country. Today I have finally shown
31805.416 the reverences that we are not all their playthings. This young man has given me the opportunity, and soon I shall have settled all my accounts with
31814.256 the friar. It’s a pity that this young man, one day or another… but call the mayor for me!
31820.096  » He appeared immediately. « Mr. Mayor, » he said upon entering, « to prevent a repetition of scenes like those you witnessed this afternoon, scenes which
31829.816 I deplore because they bring discredit to the government and to all Spaniards, I beg you to make a strong recommendation to Mr. Ibarra, not
31837.536 only to provide you with the means to achieve your patriotic goals, but also to prevent you from being bothered in the future by people of any
31845.776 class and under any pretext.  » The mayor understood the reprimand and bowed to hide his
31852.656 embarrassment. « Have the same thing be said by the ensign who commands the section here, and find out if it is true that this gentleman has his own ideas,
31861.376 which are not mentioned in the regulations; I have heard more than one complaint about this.
31866.536  » Captain Tiago appeared stiff and ironed. « Don Santiago, » said His Excellency in an affectionate tone, « I recently
31874.976 congratulated you on the good fortune of having a daughter like Miss de los Santos; Now I congratulate you on your future son-in-law: the most virtuous of
31885.576 daughters is surely worthy of the best citizen of the Philippines. May I know when the wedding is?
31892.096 « Sir! » Captain Tiago stammered, wiping the sweat that ran
31897.376 down his forehead. « Come on, I see nothing is final yet! If there are no godfathers,
31902.456 I will be very happy to be one of them. It’s to remove the bad taste left in my mouth by so many weddings as I have sponsored up to now! » he added,
31910.816 addressing the mayor. « Yes, sir! » Captain Tiago replied with a smile that inspired
31916.496 compassion. Ibarra almost ran to find María Clara: he had so many things to say to her and tell her. He heard cheerful voices in one of the rooms.
31925.976 and knocked lightly on the door. « Who’s knocking? » asked María Clara.
31931.416 « Me! » The voices fell silent, and the door… did not open. « It’s me. May I come in? » asked the young man, his heart beating
31938.936 violently. The silence continued. Seconds later, light footsteps approached
31945.496 the door, and Sinang’s cheerful voice murmured through the keyhole : « Crisóstomo, we’re going to the theater tonight; write down what you have to
31955.456 say to María Clara. » And the footsteps moved away again, as quickly as they came.
31960.896 « What does this mean? » Ibarra murmured thoughtfully, slowly moving away from the door.
31966.376 Chapter 41. THE PROCESSION At night, with all the lanterns in the windows now lit,
31973.096 the procession left for the fourth time to the ringing of the bells and the usual explosions.
31978.816 The Captain General, who had set out on foot accompanied by his two aides, Captain Tiago, the mayor, the ensign, and Ibarra,
31988.736 preceded by Civil Guards and officials who cleared the way and cleared the road, was invited to watch the procession pass by the house
31997.456 of the Gobernadorcillo, who had erected a platform in front of it so that a praise could be recited in honor of the patron saint.
32004.616 Ibarra would have gladly refused to hear this poetic composition and preferred to watch the procession at Captain Tiago’s house, where María
32013.216 Clara had stayed with her friends, but he wanted to hear the praise
32018.776 and had no choice but to console himself with the idea of ​​seeing it in the theater. The procession began with the silver candlesticks, carried by three
32026.392 gloved sacristans; the school children followed, accompanied
32031.432 by their teacher; Then the boys with the paper lanterns, of
32036.912 various shapes and colors, placed at the end of a longer or shorter cane
32042.232 and decorated according to the boy’s whim, since this lighting was paid for by the children of the neighborhoods. They gladly fulfill this duty,
32050.832 imposed by the matandâ sa nayon [126]; each one imagines and composes his lantern, his fancy adorns it with more or less trinkets and flags,
32060.072 also taking into account the state of his pocket, and he lights it with a candle stub if he has a friend or relative who is a sacristan, or he buys a little
32068.832 red candle that the Chinese people use before their altars. In the middle, constables, lieutenants of justice, come and go to ensure
32076.472 that the lines do not break and the people do not crowd together. To this end,
32081.792 they use their staffs, with whose blows, delivered appropriately and with a certain force, they seek to contribute to the glory and brilliance of
32091.752 the processions for the edification of souls and the luster of religious pageantry. While the constables distribute these sanctifying
32100.512 liqueurs free of charge, others, to console the whipped, distribute tapers
32106.592 and candles of different sizes, also free of charge. « Mr. Mayor, » Ibarra says in a low voice, « are these blows given as
32112.712 punishment for sins or just for pleasure?  » « You are right, Mr. Ibarra! » replies the Captain General, who
32119.632 heard the question; « this spectacle… barbarously shocks everyone who comes from other countries. It would be advisable to prohibit it. »
32127.392 Without being able to explain why, the first saint to appear is Saint John the Baptist. To see him, one would say that the fame of Your Excellency’s cousin was
32136.24 not very well-established among the people; it is true that he had the feet and legs of a maiden and the face of an anchorite, but he rode on an old
32145.4 wooden litter and was obscured by a few boys, armed with their
32150.88 unlit paper lanterns, surreptitiously clinging to one another. « Wretch! » murmured the philosopher Tasio, who was watching the
32159.76 procession from the street; « it is of no use to you to be the forerunner of the Good News, nor that Jesus bowed down before you! It is of no use to you your great faith,
32168.68 your austerity, nor your dying for the truth and your convictions: all this
32174.76 is forgotten by men when only one’s own merits count ! It is better to preach poorly in churches than to be the eloquent
32182.84 voice crying in the wilderness; this is what the Philippines teaches you. If you had eaten turkey instead of lobsters, worn silk instead of furs, and
32191.84 you would have joined a corporation… But the old man suspended his apostrophe, for Saint Francis was coming.
32199.36 « Didn’t I say so? » he continued, smiling sarcastically; « this one is in a chariot, and—good heavens, what a chariot, how many lights and how many
32208.4 crystal lanterns! Never have you seen yourself surrounded by so many luminaries, Giovanni Bernardone! And what music! Other melodies your children heard
32217.08 after your death! But, venerable and humble founder, if you rise again
32222.68 now, you will see only degenerates Eliases of Cortona, and if your children recognize you, they will lock you up and you may share the fate of Caesarius
32231.12 of Spira. » Behind the music came a banner representing the same saint, but with seven wings, carried by the Third Brothers,
32240.4 wearing the gingham habit and praying in loud and mournful voices. Without knowing the reason for this, Saint Mary Magdalene came, a very beautiful
32249.52 image with abundant hair, a pineapple handkerchief embroidered between her ring-covered fingers, and a silk dress adorned with
32257.32 gold plates. Lights and incense surrounded her; her glass tears could be seen
32263.096 reflecting the colors of the Bengal lights, which gave the procession a fantastic appearance; so that the sinful saint wept now green,
32271.256 now red, now blue, etc. The houses did not begin to light these
32276.456 lights until Saint Francis passed by; Saint John the Baptist did not enjoy these honors, and he passed quickly, ashamed of being the only one dressed
32286.816 in furs among so many people covered in gold and precious stones. « There goes our saint! » the daughter of the little governor told her
32294.856 visitors. « I’ve lent her my rings, but it’s to win heaven.  » The lamplighters stopped around the platform to hear the praise, the
32303.576 saints did the same: they or their bearers wanted to hear verses. Those
32308.816 carrying Saint John, tired of waiting, squatted down
32314.016 and agreed to leave him on the ground. « The bailiff can scold me, » one objected. « Perhaps in the sacristy they leave him in a corner among cobwebs! »
32324.216 And Saint John, once on the ground, became like common people. From the Magdalene onwards, the women came, only instead of
32331.776 starting with the girls, as with the men, the old women came first, the single women bringing up the rear of the procession to the Virgin’s chariot,
32339.856 behind which came the priest under his canopy. This custom was shared by Father Damasus, who said: « The Virgin likes young women, not
32347.696 old women, » which made many pious women frown, but did not change the Virgin’s taste.
32354.136 Saint Diego followed Mary Magdalene, although he did not seem pleased about it, for he remained as contrite as this morning when he followed Saint
32363.336 Francis. Six Third Sisters pulled his chariot, for I know not what promise or illness: in fact, they pulled, and with eagerness. Saint Diego
32373.936 stopped in front of the platform and waited to be greeted. But they had to wait for the Virgin’s chariot, preceded by people dressed
32380.936 as ghosts, which frightened the children, and that is why the crying and
32386.416 shrieking of the careless babies could be heard. Yet, amidst that dark mass of habits, hoods, cords, and headdresses, to the sound of that
32395.816 monotonous, nasal prayer, one sees, like white jasmines, like fresh
32401.816 sampagas among old rags, twelve girls dressed in white, crowned with flowers, their hair curly, their eyes as bright as their necklaces;
32410.896 they looked like little spirits of light imprisoned by ghosts. They were clinging to two wide blue ribbons attached to the Virgin’s carriage,
32420.056 reminiscent of the doves that pull the carriage of Spring. By now all the images were attentive, pressed close together to
32427.536 listen to the verses; everyone’s eyes were fixed on the half-open curtain; finally, an « aaah! » of admiration escaped
32435.296 everyone’s lips. And he deserved it: it was a young boy with wings, riding boots, a sash,
32441.936 a belt, and a hat with feathers. « The mayor! » someone shouted, but the prodigy of creation
32449.096 began to recite a poem like him and was not offended by the comparison.
32454.336 Why translate here what
32460.056 the poor victim of the little governor said in Latin, Tagalog, and Spanish, all versified? Our Readers have already savored Father Dámaso’s sermon this morning,
32468.296 and we don’t want to spoil them with so many wonders. Besides, the Franciscan might look at us with resentment if we find a competitor,
32475.976 and this is what we don’t want, peaceful people like we are fortunate enough to be. The procession then continued: Saint John followed his path of bitterness.
32486.056 As the Virgin passed in front of Captain Tiago’s house, a heavenly song greeted her with the words of the Archangel.
32493.192 It was a tender, melodious, supplicating voice, weeping Gounod’s Ave Maria, accompanied
32500.552 by the piano that prayed with her. The music of the procession fell silent, the prayer ceased, and Father Salví himself stopped. The voice trembled and
32509.072 drew tears: it expressed more than a greeting, a prayer,
32514.472 a complaint. Ibarra heard the voice from the window where he was, and terror and
32521.072 melancholy descended upon his heart. He understood what that soul was suffering and expressing in song, and he feared to ask the cause of
32529.632 that pain. The Captain General found him somber and thoughtful. « Will you join me at table; there we will talk about those children who
32538.792 have disappeared, » he said. « Could I be the cause? » the young man murmured, looking sightlessly at His Excellency,
32544.752 whom he followed mechanically. Chapter 42. DOÑA CONSOLACIÓN. Why are the windows of the Ensign’s house closed? Where
32553.512 were, as the procession passed, the masculine face and flannel shirt of the Medusa or the Muse of the Civil Guard? Did
32561.872 Doña Consolación understand how unpleasant her forehead, furrowed with thick veins, apparently carrying not blood but vinegar and gall,
32571.632 the thick tobacco, worthy adornment of her purple lips, and her envious gaze were, and, yielding to a generous impulse, did she not want to disturb
32581.392 the joys of the multitude with her sinister appearance? Alas! For her, generous impulses lived in the Golden Age.
32589.792 The house is sad because the people are rejoicing, as Sinang said; it has neither lanterns nor flags. If the sentry were not pacing in front
32598.272 of the door, one would say the house was uninhabited. A weak light illuminates the untidy room and makes transparent the
32606.232 dirty shells [127] in which the cobweb has taken hold and
32611.832 the dust has settled. The lady, following her custom of being idle, dozes in a wide armchair.
32617.728 She dresses as she does every day, that is to say, badly and horribly: all over her head is a handkerchief tied around her head,
32626.568 letting loose thin, short strands of tangled hair;
32631.888 a blue flannel shirt over one that should have been white; and a faded skirt that shapes her thin, flat thighs,
32641.168 placed one on top of the other and agitated feverishly. From her mouth
32646.368 come puffs of smoke, which she angrily expels into the space in which she looks when she opens her eyes. If
32655.328 Don Francisco de Cañamaque [128] had seen her at that moment, he would have taken her for a village chief or a mankukulam [129], later embellishing his discovery
32666.328 with commentaries in the store language, invented by him for his own use. That morning, the lady had not heard mass, not because she had not
32675.848 wanted to; on the contrary, she wanted to show herself to the crowd and hear the sermon, but her husband had not allowed it, and the prohibition
32684.808 was accompanied, as always, by two or three insults, oaths, and
32689.848 threats of kicks. The ensign understood that his wife was dressed ridiculously, that she smelled of what they call a soldier’s mistress, and that
32698.328 it was not advisable to expose her to the gaze of the dignitaries at the head of the house or of strangers. But she did not understand it that way. He knew she was beautiful, attractive, that
32708.648 she had the airs of a queen and that she dressed much better and more luxuriously than María Clara herself: the latter wore a tapis, the latter a loose skirt. It was
32718.248 necessary for the ensign to say to her: « Either you shut up or I’ll kick you back to your f… town!
32724.808  » Doña Consolación did not want to kick you back to her town, but she thought of revenge.
32730.336 The dark face of the
32735.496 lady, nor when she was painted, but that morning she was greatly disturbing, especially when they saw her pacing the house from one end to the other,
32744.536 silent and as if meditating on something terrible or malignant. Her gaze had
32750.056 the reflection that emanates from the pupil of a snake when, caught, it is about to be crushed: it was cold, luminous, penetrating, and had something
32759.936 viscous, disgusting, and cruel about it. The smallest fault, the most insignificant unusual noise,
32766.376 would draw from her a clumsy and infamous insult that slapped her soul, but no one responded: to excuse herself was another crime.
32774.098 Thus she spent the day. Unable to find an obstacle in her path —her husband was invited—she saturated herself with bile:
32782.938 one thought that the cells of her organism were charged with electricity
32788.376 and threatened to explode in an infamous storm. Everything around her folded, like the ears of wheat at the first breath of a hurricane; She encountered no
32796.734 resistance, no point or eminence on which to vent her ill humor: soldiers and servants crawled at her side.
32805.054 To avoid hearing the rejoicing outside, she ordered the windows closed and instructed
32810.336 the sentry not to let anyone in. She tied a handkerchief around her head as if to prevent it from exploding, and despite the sun still shining,
32819.376 she ordered the lights to be lit. Sisa, as we saw, was arrested for disturbing the peace and taken
32825.176 to the barracks. The ensign was not there then, and the unfortunate woman had to spend the night on a bench, with an indifferent look on her face. The next day,
32833.376 the ensign saw her, and fearing for her in those days of uproar, and not wanting to present an unpleasant spectacle, he ordered the soldiers
32842.054 to keep her under guard, treat her with compassion, and give her something to eat. Thus the demented woman spent two days.
32848.246 That night, whether the proximity of Captain Tiago’s house had brought María Clara’s sad song to her, or whether other
32856.566 strains had awakened her old songs, or whatever the cause, Sisa also began to sing, in her sweet and melancholy voice, the
32865.45 kundiman [130] of her youth. The soldiers heard her and fell silent:
32870.77 ah! those strains awakened ancient memories, memories of a time when they had not yet been corrupted.
32877.406 Doña Consolación also heard her in her boredom, and, aware of the person singing,
32882.968 ordered, after a few seconds of meditation, « Let him come up at once! » Something like a smile wandered across her dry lips.
32891.168 They brought Sisa, who presented herself without being perturbed, without showing surprise or fear: she seemed not to see any lady. This wounded the
32899.566 vanity of the Muse, who intended to inspire respect and terror. The lieutenant coughed, signaled to the soldiers to leave, and,
32907.208 taking down her husband’s whip, said in a sinister tone to the madwoman:
32912.808 « Come on, magcantar icau! » [131] Sisa, naturally, did not understand her, and this ignorance appeased her anger.
32921.688 One of this lady’s fine qualities was that she tried to ignore Tagalog, or at least to pretend not to know it, speaking it as poorly as possible:
32931.61 thus she would give herself the airs of a true orofea, [132] as she used to say. And she was right, because if she tormented Tagalog, Spanish
32941.328 was no better off, either as far as grammar or pronunciation were concerned. And yet her husband, the chairs, and the shoes—
32951.168 each one had done their best to teach her! One of the words that cost her more trouble, even than Champollion
32959.368 the hieroglyphics, was the word Filipinas. It is said that the day after her wedding, speaking with her husband,
32966.16 who was then a corporal, she had said Pilipinas; the corporal thought it his duty to correct her, and said, giving her a smack on the head: « Say Felipinas, woman! Don’t
32975.2 be stupid. Don’t you know that your f… country is called that because it comes from
32980.558 Felipe? » The woman, who was dreaming of her honeymoon, wanted to obey
32986.078 and said Felepinas. At last, it seemed to her that she was getting closer, she increased the smacking and rebuked her: « But, woman, can’t you pronounce
32995.0 Felipe? Don’t forget, he knows that King Philip… the fifth… Say Felipe, and add nas, which in Latin means islands of indigenous people, and you have
33006.04 the name of your rep… country.  » Consolación, a washerwoman at that time, feeling her bump or
33013.2 bumps, he repeated, beginning to lose patience: « Fe… lipe, Felipe… nas, Felipenas, is that right? »
33022.442 The corporal was left seeing visions. Why did it turn out to be Felipenas instead of Felipinas? One of two things: either it is Felipenas or should it be Felipi?
33032.04 That day he thought it prudent to remain silent; he left his wife and went to carefully consult the printouts. Here his admiration reached its
33040.122 peak; he rubbed his eyes: « Let’s see… slowly! » « Filipinas » was what all the printouts spelled out correctly: neither he nor his wife were right.
33049.602 « How? » he murmured, « can history lie? Doesn’t this book say that Alonso Saavedra had given this name to the country as a tribute to the
33058.16 Infante Don Felipe? How did this name become corrupted? » Could this Alonso Saavedra be an indigenous person?
33064.36 He consulted his doubts with Sergeant Gómez, who in his youth had wanted to be a priest. The latter, without deigning to look at him and blowing a puff of smoke,
33073.36 answered with the greatest pomp: « In ancient times, they used to say Filipi instead of Felipe; we
33080.078 moderns, since we’re becoming French, can’t tolerate two ‘i’s in a row. That’s why cultured people, especially in Madrid—haven’t you
33088.336 been to Madrid? Cultured people, I mean, are already beginning to say: minister,
33093.976 enritación, embitación, endino, etc., which is what is called getting up to speed
33099.618 in a modern way. » The poor corporal had never been to Madrid; that’s why he didn’t know the
33105.016 drill. What things one learns in Madrid! « So today it must be said? »
33110.618 « The old-fashioned way, man! » « This country is not yet cultured, in the old-fashioned way: the Philippines! » Gómez replied with disdain.
33118.336 The corporal, if he was a bad philologist, was on the other hand a good husband: what he
33123.696 had just learned, his wife ought to know as well, and she continued her education.
33128.938 « Consola, what do you call your f… country?  » « What should I call it? Like you taught me: Felifenas.
33135.656  » « I’ll throw my chair at you, b…! Yesterday you pronounced it somewhat better,
33140.894 in the modern way; but now it must be pronounced in the old-fashioned way! Feli,
33146.136 I mean, the Philippines!  » « I see, I’m not an old-fashioned one! What do you think you are?
33151.734  » « It doesn’t matter! Say the Philippines!  » « I don’t feel like it! I’m not some old-fashioned thing… barely thirty
33158.098 years old, » he replied, rolling up his sleeves as if preparing for battle. « Say it, rep…, or I’ll throw my chair at you! »
33164.098 Consolación saw the movement, reflected, and stammered, breathing heavily:
33169.574 « Feli… Fele… File… Bang! Crack! » The chair finished with the word.
33176.136 And the lesson ended with punches, scratches, and slaps. The corporal grabbed her by the hair, she grabbed him by the beard and another part of his
33185.938 body—she couldn’t bite because her teeth were all moving—the corporal screamed, let her go, begged her for forgiveness, blood spurted, one
33195.176 eye was redder than the other, a shirt was in tatters, many
33200.336 organs came out of their hiding places, but Filipinas didn’t come out. Similar adventures happened whenever language was involved.
33207.864 The corporal, who saw her linguistic progress, calculated with
33213.464 sorrow that in ten years his wife would completely lose the use of speech. Indeed, that is what happened. When they married, she
33222.266 still understood Tagalog and made herself understood in Spanish; Now, at the time of our story, she no longer spoke any language: she had become
33231.504 so fond of the language of gestures, and of these she chose the loudest and most forceful, that she gave fifteen and a half to the inventor of the volapük.
33240.624 Sisa, then, was fortunate not to understand her. Her brows loosened slightly , a smile of satisfaction animated her face; undoubtedly
33249.824 she no longer knew Tagalog, she was now an orofea. « Attendant, tell this one to sing in Tagalog! She doesn’t understand me, she doesn’t
33257.464 know Spanish! » The crazy woman understood the attendant and sang the song of the night. Doña Consolación listened at first with a mocking laugh, but the laughter
33265.664 gradually disappeared from her lips; she became attentive, then serious and
33270.704 somewhat thoughtful. The voice, the meaning of the verses, and the song itself impressed her: that arid and dry heart was perhaps thirsty for
33280.426 rain. She understood it well: the sadness, the cold, and the humidity
33285.586 that descend from the sky wrapped in the cloak of night, according to
33290.742 the kundiman, seemed to descend upon her heart as well; the withered and wilted flower that, during the day, had displayed its finery,
33301.024 eager for applause and full of vanity, at nightfall, repentant and disillusioned, makes an effort to lift its withered petals to the
33310.786 sky, asking for a little shade to hide in and die without the mockery
33316.504 of the light that saw it in its pomp, without seeing the vanity of its pride,
33321.586 a little dew also to weep upon it. The nocturnal bird leaves its solitary retreat, the hollow of the ancient trunk, and disturbs the melancholy
33330.542 of the forests… « No, don’t sing! » exclaimed the ensign in perfect Tagalog, rising
33336.328 agitatedly; « Don’t sing! Those verses hurt me! » The crazy woman fell silent; the attendant blurted out: « Abá! Does she know Tagalog? » and
33345.886 stared at the lady full of admiration. She realized she had given herself away; she was ashamed, and, as her
33353.406 nature was not that of a woman, her shame took the form of rage and hatred. She pointed the door at the imprudent man and with a kick closed it
33363.046 behind him. She walked around the room a few times, twisting the whip in her sinewy hands, and, suddenly stopping in front
33371.93 of the madwoman, said to her in Spanish: « Dance!  » Sisa did not move. « Dance, dance! » she repeated in a sinister voice.
33380.61 The madwoman looked at her with vague, expressionless eyes: the lieutenant raised one arm, then the other, shaking them: useless, Sisa did not understand.
33391.128 She began to jump, to shake herself, encouraging the other to
33396.488 imitate her. In the distance, the procession music could be heard playing a grave and majestic march, but the lady was jumping furiously to a different
33405.93 beat, a different kind of music, the one that resonated within her. Sisa looked at her motionless: something like curiosity appeared in her eyes, and a faint smile
33415.528 moved her pale lips: she found the lady’s dance amusing. She stopped as if embarrassed, raised the whip, that terrible whip
33425.528 known to thieves and soldiers, made in Ulangô and perfected by the ensign with twisted wires, and said:
33433.406 « Now it’s your turn to dance… dance! » And she began to weakly lash the crazy woman’s bare feet, whose face
33441.29 contorted with pain, forcing her to defend herself with her hands. « Aha! Here you go! » she exclaimed with personable joy, and from the slow dance she passed
33451.208 to an allegro vivace. The unfortunate woman let out a moan of pain and quickly lifted her foot.
33457.046 « Must you dance, you damn Indian woman? » the lady would say, and the whip vibrated and whistled.
33462.144 Sisa sank to the ground, clutching her legs and
33467.504 staring at her executioner with wild eyes. Two sharp lashes across her back made her rise; it wasn’t a moan anymore, it was
33476.946 two howls the unfortunate woman let out. Her fine shirt tore, her skin split, and blood spurted out.
33483.426 The sight of blood thrilled the tiger; the blood of her victim exhilarated Doña Consolación.
33490.062 « Dance, dance, you damned wretch! Damn the mother who bore you! » she would shout; « dance or I’ll whip you to death! »
33497.946 And she herself, holding her with one hand and lashing her with the other, began to jump and dance.
33504.742 The madwoman finally understood her and continued to move her arms wildly. A satisfied smile spread across the teacher’s lips,
33513.824 the smile of a female Mephistopheles who has succeeded in producing a great disciple;
33518.984 there was hatred, contempt, mockery, and cruelty: a laugh could not have
33524.464 expressed more. And, absorbed in the enjoyment of her spectacle, she didn’t hear her husband’s arrival
33530.946 until the door was loudly kicked open. The ensign appeared, pale and somber; he saw what was happening there and cast
33540.464 a terrible glance at his wife. She didn’t move from her place and remained
33545.586 smiling cynically. The ensign placed his hand as gently as he could on the strange dancer’s shoulder and made her stop. The madwoman breathed and
33554.744 slowly sat down on the floor, stained with her blood. The silence continued: the ensign was breathing heavily; the woman, who
33562.544 was watching him with questioning eyes, picked up the whip and asked him in a calm, slow voice:
33569.104 « What’s the matter with you? You haven’t even said good night to me! » The ensign, without answering, called his attendant.
33576.904 « Take that woman away, » he said; « let Marta give her another shirt and get her well taken care of! You’ll give her a good meal, a good bed…
33584.04 be careful not to mistreated her! Tomorrow she will be taken to Señor Ibarra’s house. »
33589.92 Then he carefully closed the door, bolted it, and approached his wife. « You’re looking for me to break you! » he said, clenching his fists.
33599.28 « What’s the matter with you? » she asked, getting up and stepping back. « What’s the matter with me? » he shouted in a thunderous voice, uttering a blasphemy and
33606.76 showing her a piece of paper covered in scribbles, he continued: « Didn’t you write this letter to the mayor, saying that I’m being paid
33614.16 to allow gambling, you p…? I don’t know how I don’t crush you! » « Let’s see! » « Let’s see if you dare! » she said, laughing mockingly.
33623.92 « Whoever beats me must be a bigger man than you! » He heard the insult, but saw the whip. He picked up a plate from
33629.76 the table and threw it at her head. The woman,
33635.72 accustomed to these fights, quickly stepped down, and the plate smashed against the wall; the same fate befell a cup and a knife.
33643.72 « Coward! » she said to him, « you dare not come near. » And she spat at him to exasperate him further. The man went wild and, bellowing,
33652.28 threw himself at her, but with astonishing swiftness, she whipped him across the face and ran wildly away, locking herself in
33662.28 her room, the door of which she violently closed. Roaring with rage and pain, the ensign pursued her, only to crash against the door, which
33671.04 made him vomit out blasphemies. « Damn your offspring, you swine! Open up, b… open up, or I’ll
33676.8 break your head! » he howled, pounding on the door with his fists and feet. Doña Consolación didn’t answer. Chairs and trunks creaked,
33686.04 like someone trying to erect a barricade with household furniture. The house shook with her husband’s kicks and oaths.
33693.44 « Don’t come in, don’t come in! » came the woman’s harsh voice. « If you even look out, I’ll shoot you. »
33698.664 He seemed to calm down little by little and contented himself with pacing up
33704.104 and down the room like a wild beast in its cage. « Go outside and cool your head! » continued
33711.744 the woman, who seemed to have already completed her defensive preparations. « I swear, if I catch you, not even God will see you, you filthy b…!
33720.624  » « Yes! » « Now you can say what you want… You didn’t want me to go to mass! You didn’t let me do my duty to God! » she said sarcastically, as
33730.864 only she knew how. The second lieutenant took his helmet, tidied himself up a bit, and strode off
33736.824 , but after a few minutes he returned without making the slightest noise: he had taken off his boots. The servants, accustomed to such
33746.064 spectacles, were usually bored, but the novelty of the boots attracted their attention, and they winked at each other.
33753.664 The second lieutenant sat down on a chair next to the sublime door and had
33759.064 the patience to wait for more than half an hour. « Have you really left or are you there, bastard? » the voice asked from
33766.784 time to time, changing epithets but rising in tone. Finally, she began to slowly clear away the furniture; he heard the
33775.784 noise and smiled. « Attendant! » « Has the gentleman gone out? » cried Doña Consolación.
33782.704 The attendant, at a sign from the ensign, answered: « Yes, madam, he has. »
33788.744 She was heard laughing joyfully and drew back the bolt. Her husband slowly rose; the door opened a crack…
33796.064 A shout, the sound of a body falling, oaths, howls, curses, blows, hoarse voices… Who can describe what happened in
33804.464 the darkness of the bedroom? The attendant, going out into the kitchen, made a very significant sign
33810.824 to the cook. « And you’ll pay for it! » he said. « Me? In any case, the people! She asked me if I had gone out,
33818.784 not if I had returned. » Chapter 43. RIGHT AND MIGHT It was about ten o’clock at night.
33824.472 The last rockets climb lazily into the dark sky, where, like new stars, some
33831.672 paper balloons, recently elevated by the smoke and the air, shine heated. Some, adorned with fireworks, caught fire,
33840.832 threatening all the houses; for this reason, men can still be seen on the ridges of the roofs, armed with a long pole with a rag
33850.672 on the end and carrying a bucket of water. Their black silhouettes stand out in the vague clarity of the air, and they seem like ghosts descended
33859.392 from space to witness the rejoicings of men. A multitude of wheels, castles, bulls or carabaos of
33869.232 fire, and a great volcano that surpassed in beauty and grandeur anything the inhabitants of San Diego had seen until then, had also been burned.
33877.712 Now the people are heading en masse toward the town square to attend the theater for the last time. Here and there, Bengal lights are seen,
33886.192 fantastically illuminating the merry groups; the children use torches to search among the grass for broken bombs and other debris
33895.352 that could be used, but the music gives the signal and everyone abandons the meadow.
33900.832 The great stage is splendidly illuminated: thousands of lights surround
33906.792 the struts, hang from the ceiling, and litter the floor in tightly packed clusters. A bailiff looks after them, and when he comes forward to
33914.792 arrange them, the audience whistles and shouts: « There it is, there it is! »
33920.352 In front of the stage, the orchestra tunes its instruments and preludes tunes; behind it is the place the correspondent mentioned
33928.752 in his letter. The town’s leading figures, the Spaniards, and the wealthy foreigners were occupying the rows of chairs.
33937.32 The common people, people without titles or titles, occupied the rest of the plaza;
33943.04 some carried a bench on their backs, more to compensate for their lack of height than to sit down. This provoked noisy protests
33951.48 from those who had been removed from the seats; they immediately got off, but soon got back on as if nothing had happened.
33959.68 Comings and goings, shouts, exclamations, laughter, a
33964.88 stray bazooka, a firecracker or a firecracker increased the din. Here,
33970.24 a bench’s leg breaks and people who had come from far away to see, and now
33978.56 they are seen, fall to the ground; there, they quarrel and fight for their place; a little further
33984.64 away, a clatter of glasses and bottles breaking can be heard: it is Andeng carrying refreshments and drinks; with both hands, she
33993.84 carefully holds the wide tray, but she runs into the groom who wants to take advantage of the situation…
33999.64 The lieutenant-mayor, Don Filipo, presides over the spectacle, for the gobernadorcillo is fond of the mountain; Don Filipo speaks with
34008.28 old Tasio: « What should I do? » he said; « the mayor has not wanted to accept my
34013.84 resignation; don’t you feel strong enough to fulfill your duties? » he asked me.
34019.6 « And what did you answer?  » « Mr. Mayor! » I replied; the strength of a lieutenant-major,
34025.92 however insignificant, is like that of any authority: it comes from higher spheres. The king himself receives his from the people,
34035.8 and the people from God. I lack precisely this, Mr. Mayor. But
34040.96 the mayor wouldn’t listen to me and told me we would talk about this after the festivities.
34046.68 « Then may God help you! » said the old man and tried to leave. « Don’t you want to see the performance?
34054.344  » « Thank you! I’m enough to dream and rave about on my own, » replied the philosopher with a sarcastic laugh. « But now I remember, hasn’t
34062.864 the character of our people ever caught your attention? Peaceful, they like warlike spectacles, bloody battles; democratic, they adore
34071.664 emperors, kings, and princes; irreligious, they are ruined by the pomp
34077.024 of worship; our women have a sweet character and go delirious when
34082.304 a princess brandishes her lance… Do you know why? » Well… The arrival of María Clara and her friends cut short the conversation. Don
34090.624 Filipo welcomed them and escorted them to their seats. Behind them came the
34095.704 priest, and also other neighbors whose job it is to escort the friars. « May God reward you in the afterlife too! » said old Tasio,
34104.144 walking away. The performance began with Chananay and Marianito in Crispino and the Comare. Everyone had eyes and ears on the stage except one:
34114.384 Father Salví. He seemed to have gone there only to keep an eye on María Clara, whose sadness gave her beauty such an ideal and interesting air
34123.384 that it’s understandable why he contemplated her with rapture. But the Franciscan’s eyes , deeply hidden in their hollowed-out orbits,
34131.984 spoke nothing of rapture: in that somber gaze, something desperately sad could be read: with such eyes, Cain must have contemplated from
34140.824 afar the paradise whose delights his mother had painted for him! The act was ending when Ibarra entered; his presence caused a
34148.664 murmur: everyone’s attention was fixed on him and the priest. But the young man didn’t seem to notice, for he greeted María Clara and her friends naturally
34156.184 , sitting down next to them. The only one who spoke was Sinang.
34162.144 « Have you been to see the volcano? » she asked. « No, my friend, I had to accompany the Captain General. »
34168.584 « Well, that’s a pity! The priest came with us, and he told us stories
34174.504 about the damned; do you think so? To frighten us so we won’t have fun, do you think?  » The priest stood up and approached Don Filipo, with whom he seemed to engage in
34183.704 a lively discussion. The priest spoke briskly, Don Filipo measuredly and in a low voice.
34189.544 « I’m sorry I can’t please Your Excellency, » he said; « Señor Ibarra
34195.464 is one of the largest taxpayers and has the right to stay here as long as he doesn’t disturb order.
34201.344  » « But isn’t disturbing order scandalizing good Christians? It’s letting a wolf into the fold! You’ll answer
34210.624 for this before God and the authorities!  » « I always answer for acts that emanate from my own will,
34215.984 Father, » replied Don Filipo, bowing slightly; « but my small authority does not entitle me to interfere in religious matters.  » Those who
34224.424 wish to avoid his contact should not speak to him: Señor Ibarra doesn’t force anyone either.
34230.624 « But it is giving rise to danger, and whoever loves danger perishes in it.  » « I don’t see any danger, Father: the Mayor and the Captain General,
34240.584 my superiors, have been talking to him all afternoon, and I don’t have to teach them a lesson.  » « If you don’t throw him out of here, we’ll leave.
34248.064  » « I would be terribly sorry, but I can’t throw anyone out of here. » The priest regretted it, but there was no remedy. He signaled to his
34255.384 companion, who stood up reluctantly, and they both left. The loyal people imitated them, but not before casting a look of hatred at Ibarra.
34265.304 The murmurs and whispers increased in intensity: several people approached and greeted the young man and said:
34274.224 « We are with you; don’t pay attention to those people.  » « Who are those? » he asked in surprise.
34281.584 « Those who have left to avoid his contact! » « Yes! They say you’re excommunicated. »
34287.288 Ibarra, surprised, didn’t know what to say and looked around. He saw
34292.608 María Clara hiding her face behind her fan. « But is it possible? » he finally exclaimed; « are we still in the
34300.248 Middle Ages? So… » And approaching the young women and changing his tone: « Excuse me, » he said; « I had forgotten an appointment; I’ll come back to
34310.088 accompany you.  » « Stay! » Sinang told him; « Yeyeng is going to dance at the Calandria; she dances divinely.
34315.728  » « I can’t, my friend, but I’ll come back. » The murmurs redoubled.
34321.088 While Yeyeng came out dressed as a chula with the « Do you give me permission? » and Carvajal answered her, « Come on in, » etc., two
34329.608 Civil Guard soldiers approached Don Filipo, asking that the performance be suspended.
34335.968 « And why? » he asked, surprised. « Because the lieutenant and his wife have had a fight and can’t sleep.
34342.528  » « Tell the lieutenant we have permission; no one in town has authority, not even the little governor, who is my only superior.
34351.008  » « Then we must cancel the performance! » the soldiers repeated. Don Filipo turned his back on them. The guards left.
34359.368 In order not to disturb the peace, Don Filipo didn’t say a word to anyone about the incident.
34365.448 After the zarzuela piece, which was widely applauded, the Prince Villardo challenging all the Moors, who had
34373.208 his father prisoner, to combat; the hero threatened to cut off all their heads with a single blow and send them to the moon. Fortunately for
34381.448 the Moors, who were preparing for battle to the sound of Riego’s hymn, a riot broke out. The orchestra members suddenly stopped
34389.208 and stormed the theater, throwing their instruments. The brave Villardo, who had not expected them, mistaking them for allies of the Moors,
34396.32 also threw down his sword and shield and began to run. The Moors,
34402.4 seeing such a terrible Christian fleeing, had no problem imitating him: shouts, groans, curses, blasphemies were heard,
34413.6 people were running, trampling each other, lights were going out, glasses of light were thrown into the air,
34418.68 etc. « Tulisanes! Tulisanes! » some shouted. « Fire! » « Thieves! »
34426.0 others shouted; women and children were crying; benches and spectators were rolling on the ground amidst the confusion, uproar, and tumult.
34435.2 What had happened? Two Civil Guardsmen had chased the musicians with sticks in their hands to
34440.32 stop the show; the lieutenant-major and the police officers, armed with their old sabers, managed to stop them despite their
34449.44 resistance. « Take them to the tribunal! » shouted Don Filipo, « be careful not to let them go! »
34455.32 Ibarra had returned and was looking for María Clara. The frightened young women clung to him, trembling and pale; Aunt Isabel was reciting the litanies
34464.32 in Latin. The people, somewhat recovered from their shock and having realized what had happened, indignation burst from everyone’s hearts.
34473.72 Stones rained down on the group of police officers who were leading the two Civil Guardsmen; There were those who proposed burning the barracks and roasting
34482.16 Doña Consolación along with the ensign. « That’s what they’re for! » cried a woman, rolling up her sleeves and spreading
34488.8 her arms; « to disturb the town! They only persecute honest men! There are the tulisanes and gamblers! Let’s burn
34498.64 the barracks!  » One of them, feeling his arm, begged for confession; wailing voices came
34504.08 from under the fallen benches: it was a poor musician. The stage was filled with performers and townspeople, all talking
34512.84 at once. There was Chananay, dressed as Leonor in The Troubadour,
34518.016 speaking in shop language with Ratia, dressed as a schoolteacher;
34523.816 Yeyeng, wrapped in her silk shawl, with Prince Villardo;
34529.896 Balbino and the Moors were trying to console the musicians, who were more or less injured. Some Spaniards went from one place to another talking
34539.536 and haranguing everyone they met. But a group had already formed. Don Filipo learned of their intent and rushed
34545.616 to contain them. « Do not disturb order! » he shouted. « Tomorrow we will demand satisfaction, justice will be done to us; I guarantee that justice will be done to us!
34555.096  » « No! » some answered. « The same thing was done in Calamba [133];
34561.456 the same was promised, but the mayor did nothing. We want justice at our own hands! To the barracks! »
34568.656 The lieutenant-chief harangued them in vain; the group continued in its attitude. Don Filipo looked around for help and saw Ibarra.
34578.936 « Señor Ibarra, please! Stop them while I look for squad members!
34584.136  » « What can I do? » asked the perplexed young man, but the lieutenant- chief was already far away.
34590.376 Ibarra, in turn, looked around, searching for someone, but without knowing who. Fortunately, he thought he spotted Elías, who was impassively witnessing the
34600.696 movement. Ibarra ran up to him, took him by the arm, and said in Spanish: « For God’s sake! Do something if you can; I can’t do anything! »
34609.336 The pilot must have understood, because he disappeared into the group. Lively discussions and rapid interjections were heard; then, little
34618.296 by little, the group began to disperse, each assuming a less hostile attitude.
34623.496 It was time, for the soldiers were emerging armed, bayonets fixed. In the meantime, what was the priest doing?
34630.336 Father Salví hadn’t gone to bed. Standing with his forehead against
34635.576 the shutters, he gazed motionless toward the plaza, occasionally letting out a compressed sigh.
34641.72 If the light from his lamp had not been so dim, perhaps one would have been able to see that her eyes
34647.44 were filling with tears. Almost an hour passed like this. From this state, he was brought out by the tumult in the square. He followed with
34656.04 astonished eyes the confused coming and going of the people, whose voices and shouts vaguely reached him. « One of the servants, who came breathless,
34665.6 informed him what was happening. » A thought crossed his mind. It is in the midst of confusion and
34672.04 tumult that libertines take advantage of a woman’s terror and weakness; everyone flees and is saved, no one thinks of anyone else,
34681.6 the scream is not heard, the women faint, trample each other, fall, terror and fear ignore modesty, and in the middle of the night… and
34691.28 when they love each other! He thought he saw Crisóstomo carry the fainting María Clara in his arms
34696.32 and disappear into the darkness. He skipped down the stairs without a hat or a cane, and like a madman
34705.08 headed for the plaza. There he found the Spaniards reprimanding the soldiers. He looked toward
34711.0 the seats occupied by María Clara and her friends and saw them empty.
34716.2 « Father Priest! Father Priest! » the Spaniards shouted to him, but he paid no attention and ran in the direction of Captain Tiago’s house. There
34724.68 he breathed: he saw in the fallen transparent window a silhouette, the adorable silhouette,
34729.88 full of grace and soft contours, of María Clara, and that of her aunt who was carrying cups and glasses.
34736.56 « Come on! » he murmured; « it seems she’s just taken ill! » Aunt Isabel then closed the shutters of the windows, and the graceful
34744.92 shadow disappeared. The priest left that place without seeing the crowd.
34750.032 Before his eyes was the beautiful bust of a maiden, sleeping and breathing
34755.272 sweetly. The eyelids were shaded by long eyelashes, forming graceful curves like those of Raphael’s Virgins;
34763.192 the small mouth smiled; the whole countenance breathed virginity, purity, innocence; that face was a sweet vision amidst the
34772.672 white linens of her bed, like a cherub’s head among clouds. Imagination continued seeing other things… but who writes
34779.952 everything that a fiery brain can imagine? Perhaps the newspaper correspondent, who ended his description
34786.192 of the party and all the events in this way: A thousand thanks, infinite thanks to the timely and active
34795.392 intervention of MRP Fr. Bernardo Salví, who, defying
34800.592 all danger, among those enraged people, in the midst of the unbridled mob, without a hat, without a cane, calmed the wrath of the
34809.312 crowd, using only his persuasive words, the majesty and authority that are never lacking in the priest of a Religion of Peace. The
34816.952 virtuous priest, with unparalleled self-denial, abandoned the delights of sleep, which every good conscience, like his own, enjoys,
34826.832 to prevent a minor misfortune from befalling his flock. The residents of San Diego will undoubtedly never forget this sublime act of their
34836.512 heroic Shepherd and will remain eternally grateful to him!
34841.712 Chapter 44. TWO VISITS. In Ibarra’s present state of mind, it was impossible for him
34848.512 to sleep; so, to distract his spirit and ward off the sad thoughts that become exaggerated during the night, he set to work
34857.952 in his solitary study. Daylight was spent making mixtures and combinations, to which he subjected pieces of cane and other
34866.192 substances, which he then enclosed in numbered and sealed flasks. A servant entered, announcing the arrival of a peasant.
34873.32 « Send him in! » he said without even turning around. Elías entered, remaining standing in silence.
34879.2 « Ah! » « Is that you? » Ibarra exclaimed in Tagalog upon recognizing him. « Forgive me
34884.64 for keeping you waiting, I hadn’t noticed: I was conducting an important experiment…
34890.16  » « I don’t want to distract you! » the young pilot replied. « I came first to ask you if you wanted anything for the province of Batangas, where
34898.76 I’m leaving now, and then to give you some bad news… » Ibarra looked at the pilot in question.
34905.52 « Captain Tiago’s daughter is ill, » Elias added. quietly; but not seriously.
34912.52 « I already feared as much! » exclaimed Ibarra in a weak voice; « do you know what illness it is?
34917.72  » « A fever! Now, if you have nothing to send…  » « Thank you, my friend; I wish you a safe journey… but first, allow me
34926.88 to ask you a question; if it is indiscreet, do not answer.  » Elías bowed. « How were you able to avert last night’s mutiny? » asked Ibarra,
34935.56 fixing his eyes on him. « Very simply! » replied Elías with the greatest naturalness;
34941.52 « those who directed the movement were two brothers whose father had died, beaten by the Civil Guard; one day I had the good fortune to save them from
34949.8 the same hands into which their father had fallen, and both of them are grateful to me for this. I addressed myself to them last night, and they took charge of
34958.72 dissuading the others. » « And what about those two brothers whose father was beaten to death? »  » They’ll end up like their father, » Elías replied in a low voice. « When
34967.48 misfortune has marked a family once, all the members must perish; when lightning strikes a tree, it reduces everything to ashes. »
34975.84 And Elías, seeing that Ibarra remained silent, took his leave. The latter, finding himself alone, lost the serene demeanor he had retained
34983.88 in the pilot’s presence, and grief showed on his face. « I, I martyred her! » he murmured.
34992.648 He dressed quickly and went downstairs. A little man, dressed in mourning, with a large scar on his
35000.248 left cheek, greeted him humbly, stopping him in his tracks. « What do you want? » Ibarra asked him.
35006.528 « Sir, my name is Lucas, I am the brother of the man who died yesterday.  » « Ah! I offer my condolences… and all right? »
35013.448 « Sir, I want to know how much you’re going to pay my brother’s family.  » « Pay? » the young man repeated, unable to suppress his displeasure.  »
35020.568 We’ll talk about this. » « Come back this afternoon, I’m in a hurry.  » « Just tell us how much you want to pay! » Lucas insisted.
35028.608 « I told you we’ll talk another day; I don’t have time today! » Ibarra said impatiently. « Don’t you have time now, sir? » Lucas asked bitterly,
35036.808 standing in front of him. « Don’t you have time to take care of the dead?  » « Come back this afternoon, good man! » Ibarra repeated, restraining himself. « Today
35045.288 I have to see a sick person.  » « Ah! And because of a sick person, you forget the dead? Do you think it’s because
35052.088 we’re poor? » Ibarra looked at him and cut him off. « Don’t test my patience! » he said, and continued on his way. Lucas
35060.568 stared at him with a hateful smile. “It’s known you’re the grandson of the one who put my father in the sun!” he muttered
35067.168 between his teeth. “You’re still of the same blood!” And changing his tone, he added: “But if you pay well… friends!”
35074.648 Chapter 45. THE HUSBANDS OF ESPADAÑA. The feast is over; the townspeople find once again, as they do
35082.848 every year, that the treasury is poorer, that they have worked, sweated , and stayed up all night without having fun, without acquiring new friends; in short
35092.168 , they have bought dearly for the bustle and the headaches. But it doesn’t matter; the same will happen next year, and the same will happen in the coming
35099.888 century, for this has been the custom until now. A fair amount of gloom reigns in Captain Tiago’s house: all the windows
35107.824 are closed, people hardly make a sound when they walk, and only in the kitchen do they dare to speak aloud. María Clara, the soul of the house, lies
35117.904 sick in bed; Her condition is evident in every countenance, just as spiritual ailments are evident in the features of an individual.
35126.184 “What do you think, Isabel: should I give alms to the Tunasan cross or to
35131.664 the Matahong cross?” the distressed father asks in a low voice. “The Tunasan cross grows, but the Matahong cross sweats; which do you think
35140.264 is more miraculous?” Aunt Isabel thinks, shakes her head, and murmurs. “Growing… growing is a greater miracle than sweating: we all sweat, but
35150.384 not all of us grow. ” “That’s true, Isabel, but note that sweating… sweating the wood
35155.904 they made for the foot of the bench is no small miracle… Come on, it would be best to give alms to both crosses; that way neither will suffer and María
35163.544 Clara will heal sooner… Are the quarters okay? You know that A new gentleman, a half-relative of Father Dámaso, is coming with the doctors;
35171.864 it is necessary that nothing be missing. At the other end of the dining room are the two cousins, Sinang and Victoria,
35178.024 who have come to keep the sick woman company. Andeng is helping them clean a silver tea service.
35184.104 « Do you know Dr. Espadaña? » María Clara’s foster sister asks Victoria with interest .
35189.984 « No! » answers the person being questioned; « the only thing I know about him is that he charges a lot, according to Captain Tiago.
35196.024  » « Then he must be very good! » says Andeng; « the one who pierced Doña María’s belly charged a lot; that’s why he was wise.
35203.264  » « Fool! » exclaims Sinang, « not everyone who charges a lot is wise. Look, Dr. Guevara, after failing to deliver the baby by cutting off
35212.424 the baby’s head, charges the widower fifty pesos… What he knows how to do is collect. » « What do you know? » his cousin asked, nudging him.
35220.36 « Should I not know? The husband, a lumberman, after losing his wife, also had to lose his house, because
35228.52 the mayor, a friend of the doctor, forced him to pay… Should I not know? My father lent him the money to make the trip to Santa Cruz
35236.72 . [134] A carriage stopped in front of the house, cutting short all conversation.
35242.92 Captain Tiago, followed by Aunt Isabel, ran down the stairs to greet the new arrivals. They were Doctor Don Tiburcio
35252.32 de Espadaña, his wife, Doctor Doña Victorina de los Reyes de
35257.64 Espadaña, and a young Spaniard with a pleasant countenance and agreeable appearance.
35263.36 She wore a silk gown embroidered with flowers and a hat with a large parrot, half crushed between blue and red ribbons; the dust
35273.4 of the road, mingling with the rice powder on her cheeks, seemed to increase her wrinkles. As when we saw her in Manila, today
35281.4 she is also leading her lame husband by the arm. “I have the pleasure of presenting to you our cousin, Don Alfonso
35289.56 Linares de Espadaña!” said Doña Victorina, pointing to the young man; the gentleman is the godson of a relative of Padre Dámaso, private secretary to
35298.44 all the ministers… The young man bowed graciously; Captain Tiago almost kissed her hand.
35304.68 While the numerous suitcases and traveling bags were being carried up, while Captain Tiago led them to their apartments, let us say something about
35311.92 this couple, whose acquaintance we have so briefly touched upon in the first chapters.
35317.48 Doña Victorina was a lady of her forty-five years, equivalent to thirty-two years, according to her
35325.56 arithmetic calculations. She had been pretty in her youth, had good flesh—so
35330.84 she was fond of saying—but enraptured by the contemplation of herself,
35336.04 she had looked with great disdain on many Filipino adorers she had, for her aspirations were of another race.
35343.096 She refused to grant her white, tiny hand to anyone, but not out of distrust, for
35348.776 she had often given jewels of inestimable value to various foreign and domestic adventurers.
35356.056 Six months before the time of our story, she saw her most beautiful dream realized, the dream of her entire life, for which she would scorn
35365.656 the flattery of youth and even the promises of love from Captain Tiago, once whispered in her ears or sung in some
35375.816 serenade. It is true that the dream came true late; but Doña Victorina, who, although she spoke Spanish poorly, was more Spanish than
35385.456 Agustina de Zaragoza, and knew the proverb, « Better late than never, » consoled herself by saying it to herself. « There is no complete happiness on
35395.336 earth, » was her other intimate proverb, because neither ever left her lips in front of other people.
35402.296 Doña Victorina, who had spent her first, second, third, and fourth youth casting nets to fish in the seas of the world for the
35409.536 object of her sleepless nights, had at last to be content with what fate had in store for her. The poor thing, if instead of being thirty-
35417.976 two years old, she had only been thirty-one—the difference in her arithmetic was very great—she would have returned to fate the
35427.016 prey it had offered her, to wait for another one in accordance with her wishes. tastes. But since man proposes and necessity disposes, she, who
35435.696 was already in dire need of a husband, was forced to settle for
35441.616 a poor man who had left Extremadura and, after wandering the world for six or seven years, a modern Ulysses, finally found on the
35450.976 island of Luzon hospitality, money, and an outdated Calypso, his better half… alas! And the orange was sour.
35457.816 The unfortunate man’s name was Tiburcio Espadaña, and although he was thirty-five and looked old, he was
35464.416 younger than Doña Victorina, who was only thirty-two. The reason for this is easy to understand, but dangerous to say.
35471.296 He had gone to the Philippines as a fifth-ranking customs officer, but he had such bad luck that, in addition to getting seasick a lot and fracturing his leg
35481.136 during the voyage, he found himself fifteen days after his arrival with the severance pay that the Salvadora opportunely brought him, when
35488.576 he was already penniless. Having learned his lesson from the sea, he refused to return to Spain without making a fortune,
35494.776 and he considered dedicating himself to something. His Spanish pride didn’t allow any physical labor: the poor man would have gladly worked to
35504.136 live honestly, but the prestige of the Spanish people wouldn’t have allowed it, and this prestige didn’t save him from hardship.
35512.336 At first, he lived at the expense of some of his fellow countrymen, but since Tiburcio was
35517.376 honest, his bread tasted bitter, and instead of gaining weight, he grew thinner.
35522.856 Having neither knowledge, nor money, nor any recommendations, his fellow countrymen advised him , to get rid of him, to go to the provinces and pass himself
35533.336 off as a medical doctor. The man was reluctant at first, for although he had been a servant at the San Carlos Hospital, he had
35541.016 learned nothing about the science of healing: his job was to sweep the dust off the benches and light the braziers, and this lasted only a short
35549.936 time. But as necessity was pressing and his friends dispelled his
35555.176 scruples, he finally listened to them, went to the provinces, and began by
35560.496 visiting some sick people, charging modestly as his conscience
35565.536 dictated.
But, like the young philosopher Samaniego speaks of, he ended up charging dearly and setting a high price for his visits; hence,
35575.888 he was soon considered a great physician and would probably have made his fortune if the chief physician of Manila had not learned of
35583.808 his exorbitant fees and the competition he offered the others. Private individuals and professors interceded on his behalf. « Come on! Dr. C.,
35593.008 let him make his little capital, and as soon as he has six or seven thousand pesos, he will be able to return to his homeland and live there in peace. In the end,
35602.248 what does that do to you? Deceive the unwary indigenous people? Well, let them
35607.368 be smarter. He’s a wretch; don’t take the bread out of his mouth; be a good Spaniard! »
35613.848 The doctor was a good Spaniard and agreed to turn a blind eye; but when the news reached the ears of the people, they began to distrust him,
35624.608 and soon Don Tiburcio Espadaña lost his clientele and found himself almost obliged to beg for his daily bread. At that time, he learned from
35632.168 a close friend of his, who had been Doña Victorina’s, of the lady’s predicament , her patriotism, and her good heart. Don Tiburcio
35641.688 saw a piece of heaven there and asked to be introduced. Doña Victorina and Don Tiburcio met. « Tard veniéntibus ossa, »
35652.448 he would have exclaimed, had he known Latin. « She was no longer passable, she was out of date. » Her abundant hair had been reduced to a bun, as large,
35662.328 as her maid said, as a head of garlic; wrinkles furrowed her face, and her teeth were beginning to move; her eyes had also suffered
35671.848 considerably. She had to squint frequently to look into the distance: her character was the only thing she had
35681.088 left. After half an hour of conversation, they understood each other and accepted each other.
35686.272 She would have preferred a Spaniard with less lameness, less stuttering, less baldness, less jagged hair, who spit less
35695.512 when he spoke and had more spirit and class, as she used to say; but this kind of Spaniard never approached her to
35703.312 ask for her hand in marriage. She had heard it said more than once that the occasion They paint her bald, and she honestly believed that Don Tiburcio was the same
35710.992 cause, since thanks to her dark nights she was suffering from premature baldness. What woman isn’t prudent at thirty-two?
35718.792 Don Tiburcio, for his part, felt a vague melancholy when thinking about his honeymoon. He smiled with resignation and evoked the ghost
35727.512 of hunger to his aid. He had never had ambition or pretensions; his tastes were simple, his thoughts limited; but his heart, virgin
35736.112 until then, had dreamed of a very different divinity. Back in his youth, when, tired of working after a frugal supper,
35745.912 he went to lie down in a bad bed to digest his gazpacho, he fell asleep thinking of a smiling, caressing image. Later, when the
35755.552 troubles and privations increased, the years passed, and the poetic image no longer appeared. He simply thought of a good, industrious,
35764.712 hard-working woman who could provide him with a small dowry, console him for the fatigue of work, and scold him from time to time—yes, he
35774.632 thought of quarrels as a source of happiness! But when, forced to wander from country to country in search, not of fortune, but of some
35782.712 comfort to live out his remaining days; when, deluded by the acquaintances of his countrymen who had come from overseas, he embarked for
35790.912 the Philippines, realism gave way to an arrogant mestiza, a
35795.952 beautiful Indian woman with large black eyes, wrapped in silks and transparent fabrics, loaded with diamonds and gold, offering him her love,
35803.472 her carriages, etc. He arrived in the Philippines and believed he had realized his dream, for the young women, who in silver carriages came to the Luneta and the
35812.192 Malecón, had looked at him with a certain curiosity. But once laid off, the mestizo or Indian woman disappeared, and with difficulty he forged the image
35822.552 of a widow, but a pleasant one. So when he saw his dream take shape in part, he became sad, but, as he had a certain amount of
35831.632 natural philosophy, he said to himself: That was a dream, and one doesn’t live dreaming in the world ! This was how he resolved his doubts: she uses rice powder,
35840.672 well! When they get married, she’ll have it removed; she has many wrinkles, but his frock coat has even more rips and mendings; she’s a pretentious,
35849.272 imposing, and manly old woman, but hunger is more imposing, terrible, and even more pretentious, and then that’s what he was born for, sweet-tempered,
35858.552 and love changes character. She speaks Spanish very badly; he doesn’t speak it well either, according to what the head of the Bureau said when he notified him
35867.192 of his dismissal, and besides, what does it matter? Is she an ugly, ridiculous old woman? He
35873.112 ‘s lame, toothless, and bald! Don Tiburcio preferred to care for someone rather than not be cared for because he was starving. When a friend mocked him,
35881.872 he would respond: « Give me bread and call me a fool.  » Don Tiburcio was what they commonly call a man who wouldn’t
35889.752 hurt a fly. Modest and incapable of harboring a bad thought, he would have become a missionary in the old days. His stay in the
35897.552 country hadn’t been able to give him that conviction of lofty superiority, of
35902.752 great worth, and of lofty importance that most of his countrymen acquire after a few weeks . His heart has never been able to harbor
35911.232 hatred; he has yet to encounter a single filibuster; he only saw unfortunates whom he had to fleece, if he didn’t want to be more
35920.752 unhappy than them. When they tried to bring a case against him for passing himself off as a doctor, he didn’t resent it, he didn’t complain; he acknowledged justice
35930.752 and only replied: « But we must live! » They married or hunted, then, and went to Santa Ana to spend their honeymoon
35938.592 . But on their wedding night, Doña Victorina suffered a terrible indigestion, and Don Tiburcio thanked God, showing himself solicitous
35948.752 and careful. On the second night, however, he behaved like an honorable man, and the next day, when he looked in the mirror, he smiled
35956.632 melancholy, revealing his gumless gums; he had aged at least ten years.
35962.232 Doña Victorina, very pleased with her husband, had him fitted for a good set of false teeth, and had him dressed and outfitted by the best
35970.752 tailors in the city; she ordered chandeliers and carriages, and asked Batangas and
35977.192 Albay the best trunks and even forced him to have two horses for
35982.712 the upcoming races. While she was transforming her husband, she didn’t forget her own
35988.272 person: she left the silk skirt and pineapple shirt for European dress; she replaced the simple headdress of the Philippines with fake
35997.672 bangs, and with her clothes, which suited her divinely ill, she disturbed
36003.152 the peace of the entire quiet and idle neighborhood. Her husband, who never went out on foot—she didn’t want his
36010.832 limp to be seen—took her for walks in the most solitary places, much to Eva’s chagrin. She wanted to show off her husband in the most public outings,
36019.392 but kept quiet out of respect for their honeymoon. The last quarter moon began when he tried to talk to her about the rice powder
36026.272 , saying that it was fake, unnatural; Doña Victorina
36031.992 furrowed her eyebrows and looked at his false teeth. He fell silent, and she understood his weakness.
36037.656 She soon believed she was a mother and announced it to all her friends:
36042.936 « Next month, de Espadaña and I are going to the Peninsula; I don’t want our son to be born here and be called a revolutionary.
36050.816  » She added a « d » to her husband’s surname; the « d » didn’t cost anything and gave the name its status. When she signed, she wrote: Victorina de los Reyes de
36060.456 de Espadaña; this « d » was her obsession; neither the person who lithographed her cards nor her husband could get it out of her head.
36069.576 « If I only put a « d, » he’d think you didn’t have it, you fool! » she would say to her husband. She talked continuously about her travel preparations, memorized
36077.496 the names of the ports of call, and it was a pleasure to hear her speak: « I’m going to see the ism in the Suez Canal: De Espadaña
36085.256 thinks it’s the most beautiful thing. She has traveled all over the world from De Espadaña.  » « Probably I won’t return to this country as a person. »  »
36092.576 I wasn’t born to live here; Aden or Port Said would be more suitable for me; I’ve believed so since I was a child, etc. In her geography, Doña Victorina divided
36103.016 the world into the Philippines and Spain, unlike the pimps who divide it into Spain and America, or China by another name.
36109.696 Her husband knew that some of these things were barbaric, but he kept quiet so that she wouldn’t shout at him and reproach him for his
36117.856 stuttering. She acted capricious to increase her
36122.896 maternal illusions and decided to dress in colors, cover herself with flowers and ribbons
36127.976 , and parade around the Escolta in a negligee, but oh, disappointment! Three months passed and the dream evaporated, and there being no longer any reason for
36136.536 her son not to be a revolutionary, she gave up the trip. She consulted doctors, midwives, old women, etc.
36144.888 , but to no avail. She, who, to the displeasure of Captain Tiago, mocked Saint Pascual Bailón,
36152.048 did not want to resort to any saint or holy woman. so a friend of her husband told her:
36157.968 « Believe me, madam; you are the only strong spirit in this dull country! » She smiled, not understanding what a strong spirit was, and at night,
36167.888 at bedtime, she asked her husband. « Daughter, » he replied, « the e… strong spirit I know is
36176.888 ammonia: my friend must have been speaking out of rhetoric. » From then on, she would always say whenever she could:
36183.728 « I am the only ammonia in this very dull country, speaking out of rhetoric; that is what Señor N. de N., a peninsular of the highest caliber, said
36192.608 .  » Whatever she said had to be done, she had come to completely dominate
36198.288 her husband, who for his part offered little resistance, becoming a kind of lapdog to her. If he
36206.328 bothered her, she wouldn’t let him go for a walk, and when she got really angry, she would knock out his teeth, leaving him horrible for a day or more.
36215.208 It occurred to her that her husband should be a doctor of medicine and surgery , and she told him so.
36220.608 « Daughter! Do you want me arrested? » he asked, frightened. « Don’t be silly and let me sort things out; you’re not going to cure anyone,
36229.488 but I want them to call you doctor and me doctoress; that’s it!  » And the next day Rodoreda was commissioned to engrave on a
36237.088 marble slab the black person: DOCTOR OF ESPADAÑA, SPECIALIST IN ALL KINDS
36242.928 OF DISEASES. All the servants were to be given the new titles, and consequently
36248.688 From this came an increase in the number of bangs, the layer of rice powder, the ribbons, and lace, and she looked with more disdain than ever on
36257.568 her poor and unfortunate countrywomen, whose husbands were of lesser rank than hers.
36262.704 Every day she felt herself becoming more dignified and elevated, and if she continued on this path, within a year she would believe herself to be of divine origin.
36270.944 These sublime thoughts, however, did not prevent her from becoming older and more ridiculous every day. Every time Captain Tiago met
36280.144 her and remembered having made love to her in vain, he would immediately send a peso to the church for a thanksgiving mass. Despite
36288.584 this, Captain Tiago greatly respected her husband for his title as a specialist in all kinds of illnesses, and she listened attentively
36297.824 to the few sentences he managed to utter in his stuttering manner. For this reason, and because this doctor did not see everyone like other
36306.184 physicians, Captain Tiago chose him to attend to his daughter. As for young Linares, things were a different story. When the
36314.904 voyage to Spain was being prepared, Doña Victorina considered a peninsular administrator, not trusting the Filipinos. Her husband remembered a nephew in
36324.944 Madrid, who was studying to be a lawyer and was considered the cleverest
36330.144 in the family. They wrote to him, paying his passage in advance,
36336.944 and when the dream faded, the young man was already sailing. These are the three individuals who had just arrived.
36343.784 While they were having their second lunch, Father Salví arrived, and the couple, who already knew him, presented
36353.464 young Linares with all his titles, who blushed. They spoke of María Clara, as was natural; the young woman was resting
36360.024 and sleeping. They spoke of the voyage; Doña Victorina displayed her verbosity by criticizing the customs of the provincials, their nipa houses, the
36368.304 cane bridges, without forgetting to tell the priest about her friendships with the second corporal, with such-and-such mayor, with such-and-such judge, with the intendant,
36377.744 etc., all people of rank who showed her great respect. « You could have come two days earlier, Doña Victorina, » replied Captain
36387.128 Tiago after a brief pause, « and you would have found His Excellency the Captain General: he was sitting there.
36393.928  » « What? How? You were here, Your Excellency? And at your house? Lie!
36399.088  » « I tell you, he used to sit there! You could have come two days earlier…  » « Ah! What a pity Clarita didn’t get sick sooner! »
36408.608 she exclaimed with true regret, and turning to Linares: « Do you hear, cousin? Your Excellency was here! See if De Espadaña was right
36417.168 when he told you that you weren’t going to the house of a miserable indigenous person? » Because you know, Don Santiago, that our cousin was a friend of
36425.648 ministers and dukes in Madrid and ate at the house of the Count del Campanario. « About the Duke of la Torre, Victorina, » her husband corrects her.
36434.008 « It doesn’t matter, will you tell me? » « Would I find Padre Dámaso in his village today? »
36441.168 Linares interrupted, addressing Padre Salví; « they told me he’s near here.  » « He’s right here and will be back shortly, » the priest replied.
36450.568 « How glad I am! I have a letter for him, » the young man exclaimed, « and if it weren’t for this happy coincidence that brings me here, I would have come
36458.968 expressly to visit him.  » Happy coincidence had meanwhile awakened.
36464.448 « From Espadaña, » says Doña Victorina, finishing her lunch, « are we going to see Clarita? » And to Captain Tiago: « Only you, Don Santiago,
36472.968 only you! » My husband only cures people of rank, and even more! My husband is not like those here… in Madrid he
36482.848 only visited people of rank. They went to the sick woman’s room. The room was almost dark, the windows closed for fear
36491.288 of a draft, and the little light that illuminated it came from the candles burning in front of an image of the Virgin of Antipolo.
36499.776 Her head covered with a handkerchief soaked in cologne,
36505.016 her body carefully wrapped in white sheets of abundant folds that veiled her virginal form, the young woman lay on her kamagon
36514.816 [136] cot, between curtains of jusi and pineapple. Her hair, forming a frame
36520.816 around her oval face, increased that transparent pallor, animated only by her large eyes, full of sadness. At
36530.576 her side were her two friends and Andeng with a bouquet of lilies. De Espadaña took her pulse, examined her tongue, asked a few
36539.336 questions, and said, shaking his head from side to side: « She… she’s sick, but she can be cured!
36547.056  » Doña Victorina looked proudly at those present. « Lichen with milk in the morning, syrup of marshmallow, two pills of
36554.056 cynoglossa! » ordered de Espadaña. « Take heart, Clarita, » said Doña Victorina, approaching; « we’ve
36561.176 come to cure you… I’m going to introduce you to our cousin.  » Linares was absorbed, contemplating those eloquent eyes that
36568.696 seemed to be searching for someone, and he did not hear Doña Victorina calling him.
36573.976 « Señor Linares, » said the priest, snapping him out of his ecstasy, « here comes Father Damaso.
36580.056  » Indeed, Father Damaso came, pale and somewhat sad; upon leaving the bed, his first visit was to Maria Clara. He was no longer the Father
36588.416 Damaso of yesteryear, so robust and talkative; now he walked silently and somewhat hesitantly.
36593.976 Chapter 46. PROJECTS. Without caring for anyone, he went straight to the sick woman’s bedside and,
36600.816 taking her by the hand, said: « Mary! » he said with inexpressible tenderness, and tears sprang from his
36606.896 eyes. « Mary, my child, you will not die! » Maria opened her eyes and looked at him with a certain surprise.
36615.336 No one who knew the Franciscan suspected any tender feelings in him; under that rough and coarse appearance, no one believed
36623.656 that a heart existed. Father Dámaso could stand it no longer and left the young woman, weeping
36629.648 like a child. He went to the ground to give free rein to his grief, under the favorite vines of María Clara’s balcony.
36637.328 « How he loves his goddaughter! » everyone thought. Brother Salví watched him, motionless and silent, lightly biting
36644.848 his lip. Somewhat calmed, Doña Victorina introduced him to young Linares, who approached him respectfully.
36651.568 Brother Dámaso looked at him in silence, from head to toe, took the letter that the other handed him, and read it without seeming to understand it,
36660.128 for he asked: « And who are you?  » « Alfonso Linares, your brother-in-law’s godson… » the young man stammered.
36667.808 Father Dámaso leaned back, examined the young man again
36672.968 , and, brightening his expression, stood up. « So you’re Carlicos’s godson! » she exclaimed, embracing him. « Come
36680.768 , let me embrace you… I received a letter from him a few days ago… so it’s you! I didn’t know you… you can see, you hadn’t even been born when I left the country;
36690.048 I didn’t know you!  » And Father Dámaso held the young man in his robust arms , turning red, whether from shame or suffocation, who knows. Father Dámaso
36699.368 seemed to have completely forgotten his pain. After the first moments of effusion had passed and the first
36707.128 questions about Carlicos and Pepa had been asked, Father Dámaso asked:
36712.368 « So, come on! What does Carlicos want me to do for you?  » « I think it says something in the letter… » Linares stammered again.
36719.408 « In the letter? Let’s see? It’s true! And he wants me to get you a job and a wife! Hmm! A job… a job, it’s easy; can you read and write?
36730.368  » « I got my law degree from the Central University! » “Good heavens! So you’re a troublemaker? Well, you don’t have
36736.208 the face… you look like a madam, but so much the better! But to give you a woman… um! um! A woman…
36742.92 ” “Father, I’m in no hurry,” said Linares, confused. But Father Dámaso was pacing up and down the slope,
36751.6 murmuring: “A woman, a woman!” His face was no longer sad or happy; now it expressed the utmost
36759.08 seriousness and seemed to be thinking. Father Salví watched this whole scene from afar.
36765.36 “I didn’t think the whole thing would give me so much pain!” murmured Father Dámaso in a tearful voice; “but the lesser of two evils.”
36771.96 And raising his voice and approaching Linares, he said: “Come here, lad,” he said; “let’s go and speak to Santiago.”
36779.96 Linares turned pale and allowed himself to be dragged away by the priest, who was leaving. pensive.
36785.72 Then it was Father Salví’s turn to pace, pensive as always.
36791.8 A voice wishing him good morning brought him out of his monotonous pacing; he raised his head and met Lucas, who greeted him
36800.52 humbly. « What do you want? » the priest’s eyes asked. « Father, I am the brother of the man who died on the day of the feast! »
36808.08 Lucas answered tearfully. Father Salví stepped back. « So what? » he murmured in an imperceptible voice.
36814.76 Lucas struggled to cry and wiped his eyes with his handkerchief. « Father, » he said, whimpering, « I have been to Don Crisóstomo’s house to
36822.12 demand compensation… » At first, he kicked me, saying that he did not want to pay anything, since he had been in danger of dying because
36830.64 of my dear and unfortunate brother. Yesterday I returned to speak to him, but he had already left for Manila, leaving me, as if out of charity,
36839.16 five hundred pesos and charging me never to return. Ah, Father, five hundred pesos for my poor brother, five hundred pesos! Ah, Father!…
36848.904 The priest listened to him at first with surprise and attention, and slowly a smile of such contempt and sarcasm appeared on his lips at the
36858.024 sight of this farce that, had Lucas seen it, he would have run away at full speed.
36864.264 « And what do you want now? » he asked, turning his back on him.
36869.304 « Oh, Father! Tell me, for the love of God, what I should do: the father has always given good advice.
36875.024  » « Who told you that? You’re not from here…  » « The father is known throughout the province! »
36881.384 Father Salví approached him with irritated eyes and, pointing toward the street, said to the frightened Lucas:
36887.984 « Go home and thank Don Crisóstomo for not sending you to jail! Get out of here! »
36895.144 Lucas forgot his charade and muttered: « Well, I thought…  » « Get out of here! » Father Salví shouted nervously.
36902.944 « I’d like to see Father Dámaso…  » « Father Dámaso has something to do… get out of here! » the priest commanded again
36908.624 imperiously. Lucas went down the stairs muttering: « This one’s another one… if he doesn’t pay well!… Whoever pays better… »
36916.944 At the priest’s calls, everyone had come running, even Father Dámaso, Captain Tiago, and Linares.
36922.544 « An insolent vagabond who comes to beg for alms and doesn’t want to work! » said Father Salví, grabbing his hat and cane and
36929.864 heading for the convent. Chapter 47. Examination of Consciousness.
36934.944 Long days and sad nights have been spent at the bedside.
36940.504 María Clara had relapsed moments after confessing, and during her delirium she uttered nothing but the name of her mother,
36948.824 whom she had never met. But her friends, her father, and her aunt kept watch; masses and alms were sent to all the miraculous images;
36958.824 Captain Tiago promised to give a golden cane to the Virgin of Antipolo, and at last the fever began to descend slowly and
36968.064 regularly. Doctor Espadaña is amazed by the virtues of the marshmallow syrup and the lichen decoction, prescriptions he has not
36977.44 changed. Doña Victorina is so pleased with her husband that one day when he stepped on the train of her gown, she did not apply her penal code
36985.4 by removing his dentures, but contented herself with saying: « If you don’t become lame, you’ll step on my corset! »
36992.84 And she didn’t use it! One afternoon, while Sinang and Victoria were visiting their friend,
37000.12 the priest, Captain Tiago, and
37005.48 Doña Victoria’s family were talking over lunch in the dining room. « Well, I’m very sorry, » the doctor was saying; « Father Damaso will be
37011.16 very sorry too.  » « And where do you say they’re transferring him to? » Linares asked the priest.
37016.56 « To the province of Tayabas! » he replied negligently. « María will also be very sorry when she finds out, »
37022.76 Captain Tiago said; « she loves him like a father. » Fray Salví looked at him askance.
37027.8 « I think, Father, » Captain Tiago continued, « that this whole illness is due to the upset she had on the day of the fiesta.
37035.24  » « I am of the same opinion, and you did well not to allow the Mr. Ibarra to speak to her; she would have gotten worse.
37042.6 « And if it weren’t for us, » interrupted Doña Victorina, « Clarita would already be in heaven singing praises to God.
37050.36  » « Amen, Jesus! » Captain Tiago thought he should say. « Fortunately, my husband didn’t have a more
37057.64 serious patient, because you would have had to call someone else, and everyone here
37062.96 is ignorant; my husband…  » « I believe and continue in what I have said, » interrupted the priest in turn; « the
37070.16 confession that María Clara made has provoked that favorable crisis that has saved her life. A clear conscience is worth more than
37078.76 many medicines, and mind you, I do not deny the power of science, especially that of surgery! But a clear conscience…
37087.608 Read the pious books and you will see how many cures are brought about by
37093.448 just a good confession! » “Excuse me,” objects Doña Victorina, stung; “this thing about the power of
37100.728 confession… cure the lieutenant’s wife with a confession! ” “A wound, madam, is not an illness that
37108.608 conscience can influence!” replies Father Salví sternly; “however, a good confession would protect her from receiving blows like
37117.688 the ones she received this morning in the future. ” “She deserves it!” continues Doña Victorina, as if she hadn’t heard what
37122.768 Father Salví had said. “That woman is very insolent! In church, she does nothing but stare at me, you can see! She’s just a nobody; on Sunday I
37132.608 was going to ask her if she had monkeys on her face, but who gets dirty talking to people who are not of rank?”
37138.528 For his part, the priest, as if he hadn’t heard all this harangue, continued:
37143.568 “Believe me, Don Santiago; to completely cure your daughter, it’s
37150.168 necessary that she make communion tomorrow.” « I’ll bring her the viaticum… I don’t think she’ll have anything to confess, however… if she wants to reconcile herself
37158.528 tonight… » « I don’t know, » added Doña Victorina immediately, taking advantage of a pause, « I don’t understand how there can be men capable of marrying
37167.288 such shambles like that woman. You can see where she comes from from afar;
37172.688 it’s obvious she’s dying of envy; you can see it! What does an ensign gain? »
37177.768 « So, Don Santiago, tell your cousin to warn the sick woman of communion tomorrow; I’ll come tonight to absolve her of
37187.128 her sins. » And seeing that Aunt Isabel was leaving, he said to her in Tagalog:
37193.328 « Prepare your niece for confession tonight; tomorrow I’ll bring her the viaticum; that way she’ll recover more quickly.
37200.688  » « But, Father, » Linares dared to object timidly, « lest she
37205.768 think she’s in danger of death. » « Don’t worry! » she replied without looking at him. « I know what I’m
37211.792 doing: I’ve already attended to many sick people. Besides, she’ll decide whether
37217.752 or not she wants to take Holy Communion, and you’ll see how she says yes to everything. » For now, Captain Tiago had to say yes to everything.
37224.992 Aunt Isabel entered the sick woman’s bedroom. María Clara was still in bed, pale, very pale; her two friends
37232.432 were at her side . « Take one more grain, » Sinang said in a low voice, presenting her with a
37237.872 white granule that she took from a small glass tube. « He says that
37243.472 when you feel a noise or a ringing in your ears, you should stop taking the medicine.  » « Hasn’t he written to you again? » the sick woman asked in a low voice.
37252.792 « No, he must be very busy!  » « Didn’t he tell me anything? » « He says no more than that he is going to try to get the archbishop to absolve him from
37260.392 the excommunication so that… » The conversation is suspended because the aunt is coming.
37265.912 « The father wants you to get ready for confession, daughter, » she says; « leave her so she can do her examination of conscience.
37273.032  » « But she didn’t confess a week ago! » Sinang protests. « I
37278.592 ‘m not sick and I don’t sin that often.  » « Abba! Don’t you know what the priest says? The just man sins seven times a
37286.512 day. Come on, do you want me to bring you the Anchor, the Bouquet, or the Straight Path to Heaven? »
37292.432 Maria Clara didn’t reply. « Come on, don’t tire yourself, » the good aunt adds to console her.  »
37298.392 I will read the examination of conscience to you myself, and you will only remember your sins.  » « Write to him not to think about me anymore! » Maria Clara murmured in her ear.
37308.072 Sinang’s words as she took leave of her. « How so? » But her aunt entered, and Sinang had to walk away, unable to understand what
37316.352 her friend had said. The good aunt drew a chair closer to the light, placed her glasses on the
37323.416 end of her nose, and, opening a small book, said: « Pay close attention, my child. I’m going to begin with the commandments
37332.416 of the law of God. I’ll go slowly so you can meditate. If you haven’t
37337.576 heard me correctly, tell me so I can repeat them; you know that for your own
37342.776 good I never tire.  » She began to read, in a monotonous, nasal voice, her considerations about
37348.656 sinful cases. At the end of each paragraph, she placed a long pause to give the young woman time to remember her sins and repent.
37357.256 Maria Clara gazed vaguely into space. Having finished the first commandment, to love God above all things, Aunt
37365.856 Isabel observed her over her glasses and was satisfied with her thoughtful and sad air. She coughs piously, and after a long pause,
37376.816 begins the second commandment. The good old woman reads with unction, and having concluded her considerations, looks again at her niece, who
37386.256 slowly turns her head away. « Bah! » said Aunt Isabel to herself; « in this matter of swearing to her holy name,
37392.616 the poor thing will have nothing to do with it. Let us pass to the third. » And the third commandment was broken down and commented on, and after having read all
37400.536 the cases in which it is sinned against, she looks again toward the bed; but now the aunt raises her spectacles and rubs her eyes: she has seen
37410.616 her niece raise her handkerchief to her face as if to dry tears.
37415.936 « Hmm! » she says, « ahem! » The poor thing fell asleep during the sermon. And replacing her spectacles on the end of her nose, she said to herself:
37424.696 « Let us see if, just as she has not sanctified the holidays, she has not honored father and mother. »
37430.208 And she read the fourth commandment in an even slower and more nasal voice, believing she was thereby giving greater solemnity to the act, as she had seen
37438.928 many friars do. Aunt Isabel had never heard a Quaker preach, or she would have begun to tremble as well.
37445.888 The young woman, meanwhile, several times puts her handkerchief to her eyes, and her breathing becomes more perceptible.
37453.168 « What a good soul! » the old woman thinks to herself; « she who is so obedient and submissive to everyone! I have had more sins, and I have never
37461.688 been able to truly weep. » And she began the fifth commandment with greater pauses and an
37467.688 even more perfect nasality, if possible, with such enthusiasm that she did not hear
37472.848 her niece’s stifled sobs. Only during a pause she made, after the considerations about armed homicide, did she perceive the
37480.648 groans of the sinner. Then her tone changed from sublime. She read the remainder of the commandment with an accent she tried to make threatening,
37489.648 and seeing that her niece was still weeping: « Weep, child, weep! » she said, approaching the bedside. « The more
37498.488 you weep, the sooner God will forgive you. Respect the sorrow of contrition rather than that of attrition. Weep, child, weep! I don’t know how much joy
37506.368 it gives me to see you weep! Beat your breast too, but not too hard, for you are still ill. »
37511.928 But, as if sorrow needed mystery and solitude to grow, Maria Clara, seeing herself surprised, gradually ceased sighing and
37520.888 dried her eyes without saying a word or replying to her aunt. She continued reading, but, as the weeping of her audience had
37528.048 ceased, she lost her enthusiasm. The last commandments made her sleepy
37533.488 and made her yawn, much to the detriment of the monotonous nasality that was thus interrupted. « If I didn’t see it, I wouldn’t believe it! » the good old woman thought afterwards; « this
37543.144 girl sins like a soldier compared to the first five, and from the sixth to the tenth not a single venial sin, unlike us! How the
37551.264 world is going these days! » And she lit a large candle for the Virgin of Antipolo and two smaller ones
37556.944 for Our Lady of the Rosary and Our Lady of the Pillar, taking care to set aside and place in a corner an
37564.944 ivory crucifix, to make him understand that the candles had not been lit for him . The Virgin of Delaroche also had no part: she is a
37573.824 an unknown foreigner, and Aunt Isabel had not heard of any of her miracles until now.
37579.384 We do not know what happened during that night’s confession; we respect such secrets. The confession was long, and the aunt, who
37587.904 watched her niece from a distance, noticed that the priest, instead of
37593.384 listening to the sick woman’s words, had on the contrary his face turned towards her, and seemed to want to read
37601.784 or divine the thoughts of the young woman’s beautiful eyes. Pale and with pursed lips, Father Salví left the
37609.704 room. Seeing his dark forehead covered with sweat, one would have thought that he was the one who had confessed and did not deserve absolution.
37618.744 « Jesus, Mary, and Joseph! » said the aunt, crossing herself to dispel an
37624.144 evil thought; « who understands young women now? » Chapter 48. THE PERSECUTED.
37630.304 Benefiting from the faint light diffused by the moon through the thick branches of the trees, a man wanders through the forest with a
37639.144 slow, measured step. From time to time, as if to orient himself, he whistles a particular melody, which is usually answered by another distant one, intoning
37647.504 the same tune. The man listens attentively, then continues his way in the direction of the distant sound.
37653.432 Finally, through the thousand difficulties that a virgin forest presents at night, he reaches a small clearing bathed in the first
37662.552 quarter of the moon. Towering rocks, crowned with trees, rise around him
37667.632 , forming a sort of ruined amphitheater; freshly cut trees and charred trunks fill the middle, mingling with enormous boulders,
37677.552 which nature partially covers with its blanket of green foliage. The stranger had barely arrived when another figure,
37685.752 suddenly emerging from behind a large rock, advances and, drawing a revolver:
37690.792 « Who are you? » he asks in Tagalog in an imperious voice, cocking the trigger of his weapon. « Is old Pablo among you? » the first asked in a
37699.552 calm voice, without answering the question or being intimidated. « Are you talking about the captain? Yes, he is.
37706.032  » « Tell him then that Elias is looking for him here, » said the man who was none other than the mysterious pilot.
37711.632 « Is it you, Elias? » the stranger asked with a certain respect, approaching, still pointing his
37718.552 revolver at him. « Then… come.  » Elias followed him. They entered a kind of cavern that sank into the
37727.152 depths of the earth. The guide, who knew the way, warned the pilot when he should descend, bend down, or crawl;
37736.152 however, they didn’t take long and arrived at a sort of room, miserably lit by pitch torches, occupied by twelve or
37746.152 fifteen armed individuals, with sinister faces and dirty clothes,
37751.312 some sitting, others lying down, barely speaking to each other. Leaning his
37756.704 elbows on a stone, which served as a table, and meditatively gazing into the light that diffused so little clarity for so much smoke,
37764.784 was an old man with a sad countenance, his head wrapped in a bloody bandage. If we did not know that this was a cavern
37773.344 of tulisanes, we would say, reading the despair on the old man’s face, that it was the tower of Hunger on the eve of Ugolino’s devouring
37781.984 of his children. At the arrival of Elias and his guide, the men half sat up,
37787.584 but at a signal from the latter they calmed down, contenting themselves with examining the pilot, who was completely unarmed.
37795.904 The old man slowly turned his head and found himself staring at him, uncovered, full of sadness
37804.824 and interest. « Is that you? » asked the old man, whose gaze, upon recognizing the young man,
37810.184 brightened somewhat. « What state do I see you in! » Elias murmured in an undertone, shaking
37817.024 his head. The old man lowered his head in silence, signaled to the men,
37823.184 who stood up and walked away, not without first gauging the pilot’s height and muscles.
37830.424 « Yes! » said the old man to Elias when they were alone;  » six months ago, when I gave you shelter in my house, it was I who felt sorry for you. »
37840.464 of you; now fortunes have changed, and it is you who pity me. But sit down, and tell me how you came to be here.
37847.984  » « About two weeks ago I heard of your misfortune, » the young man replied slowly in a low voice, looking towards
37854.984 the light; « I set out at once and have been searching for you from mountain to mountain; I have traveled through almost two provinces.
37862.344 To avoid shedding innocent blood, I had to flee; my enemies were afraid to come forward and only put before me a few unfortunates who
37870.824 have done me no harm. » After a short pause, which Elias used to read the thoughts
37877.56 in the old man’s gloomy countenance, he replied: « I have come to propose something to you. Having searched in vain
37885.8 for some remnant of the family that caused the misfortune of mine, I have decided to leave the province where I live, to emigrate north
37894.4 and live among the infidel or independent tribes. Do you want to leave the life you are beginning and come with me? » I will be your son,
37903.8 since you have lost those you had, and I, having no family, will have a father in you.
37909.2 The old man shook his head and said: “At my age, when one makes a desperate resolution, it is because
37916.88 there is no other. A man who, like myself, has spent his youth and his
37923.12 mature age working for his own future and that of his children; a man who has been submissive to all the wishes of his superiors, who has
37931.92 conscientiously fulfilled heavy duties, suffered everything to live in
37936.96 peace and as much tranquility as possible; when this man, whose blood has cooled with time, renounces his entire past and his entire future
37945.48 on the very brink of the grave, it is because he has maturely judged that peace neither exists nor is the supreme good. Why live miserable
37954.52 days in a foreign land? I had two sons, a daughter, a home, a fortune; I enjoyed consideration and esteem; Now I am like a
37963.48 tree stripped of its branches, a vagrant fugitive, hunted like a wild beast in the forest, and all for what? Because a man has dishonored my
37971.52 daughter, because the brothers called that man to account for the infamy, and because that man is placed above all others with the title
37981.24 of minister of God. Yet I, father, I, dishonored in my old age,
37986.432 have forgiven the injury, indulgent of the passions of youth and the weaknesses of the flesh, and in the face of irreparable evil, what should I
37995.952 do but keep silent and save what remains to me? But the criminal was afraid of a more or less imminent revenge, and sought the
38003.312 ruin of my children. Do you know what he did? No? Don’t you know that
38008.552 a robbery was faked in the convent, and one of my sons was among the accused? The other could not be included because he was absent. Do you know
38016.992 the tortures to which they were subjected? You know them because they are the same as every village! I, I saw my son hanging by his hair,
38026.312 I heard his screams, I heard him calling me, and I, a coward accustomed
38032.632 to peace, didn’t have the courage to kill or be killed! Do you know that the theft was never proven, that the slander was seen through, and that as punishment the priest
38041.072 was transferred to another village, and my son died as a result of the torture? The other one, the one I had left, was not a coward like his father,
38050.912 and the executioner, fearing that he would not avenge his brother’s death, under the pretext of not having a resident identity card, which he had momentarily
38058.712 forgotten, was arrested by the Civil Guard, mistreated, irritated, and provoked by insults until he was forced to commit suicide.
38066.904 And I, I have survived after so much shame, but if I haven’t had
38073.024 the courage of a father to defend my children, let me have a heart for revenge, and I will take revenge! The malcontents are gathering under my
38080.344 command, my enemies are increasing my camp, and the day I consider myself
38085.424 strong, I will descend to the plain and extinguish in the fire my vengeance and my very existence! And that day will come or there will be no God! [137]
38095.184 And the old man rose agitated, and with flashing eyes and a
38100.864 hollow voice, he added, tearing at his long hair: « Curse, curse on me that I have stayed the avenging hand
38108.784 of my children; I have murdered them! I would have let the guilty one Had I died, I would have believed less in the justice of God and of
38116.664 men, and now I would have my children, fugitives perhaps, but I would have them, and they would not have died amidst torture! I was not born
38124.864 to be a father, that is why I do not have them! A curse upon me that I have not learned with my years to understand the environment in which I lived! But in
38133.224 fire and blood, and in my own death, I will know how to avenge you! The unfortunate father, in the paroxysm of his grief, had torn off
38142.264 the bandage, opening a wound on his forehead from which drops of blood fell.
38148.784 « I respect your pain, » replied Elijah, « and I understand your revenge. I too am like you, and yet, for fear of wounding an
38157.624 innocent person, I prefer to forget my misfortunes.  » « You can forget because you are young and because you have lost no
38164.264 child, no last hope! But I assure you, I will not wound any innocent person. Do you see this wound? » In order not to kill a poor policeman
38173.344 doing his duty, I let it happen. « But see, » said Elias after a moment of silence, « see what
38180.784 a dreadful bonfire you are going to plunge our unfortunate people into. If
you take revenge by your own hands, your enemies will take
38189.152 terrible reprisals, not against you, not against those who are armed,
38194.912 but against the people who are usually the accused, according to custom, and then how much injustice will happen! » « Let the people
38201.712 learn to defend themselves, let each one defend himself!  » « You know that is impossible! Sir, I knew you in another
38210.752 time when you were happy, then you gave me wise advice; will you allow me? »
38216.192 The old man crossed his arms and seemed to listen. « Sir, » continued Elias, weighing his words carefully, « I have had the
38223.992 good fortune to have been able to render a service to a rich, kind -hearted, noble young man who loves the good of his country. They say this young man
38232.232 has friends in Madrid; I don’t know, but I can assure you that he is a friend of the Captain General. What do you say if we make him the bearer of
38241.192 the people’s grievances, if we interest him in the cause of the unfortunate?  » The old man shook his head.
38247.272 « You say he’s rich? The rich think only of increasing their wealth; pride and pomp blind them, and since they are generally
38256.592 well-off, especially when they have powerful friends, none of them is bothered by the unfortunate. I know everything because I was rich!
38265.112  » « But the man I’m speaking of is not like the others; he is a son who has been insulted in his father’s memory; he is a young man who,
38273.512 since he will soon have a family, thinks of the future, a good future for his children. »
38279.472 « Then he is a man who is going to be happy; our cause is not that of happy men.
38285.784  » « But it is that of men of heart!  » « So be it! » replied the old man, sitting down. « Suppose he consents to carry
38293.224 our voice even to the Captain-General, suppose he finds deputies at court who will plead our case, do you think justice will be done?
38300.504  » « Let us try it before taking a bloody measure, » replied Elias. « You must be surprised that I, another wretch, young and robust,
38311.784 should propose peaceful measures to you, old and weak; but the fact is that I
38317.384 have seen as much misery caused by ourselves as by tyrants: it is the unarmed who pays.
38323.504  » « And if we achieve nothing?  » « Something will be achieved, believe me; not all who govern are
38330.664 unjust. » And if we achieve nothing, if they ignore our voices, if man has become deaf to the cries of pain of his fellow men,
38339.184 then I will be at your command! The old man, filled with enthusiasm, embraced Elias.
38346.424 « I accept your proposal, Elias; I know that you keep your word. You will come
38351.864 to me and I will help you avenge your ancestors, you will help me avenge
38357.304 my children, my children who were like you!  » « In the meantime, sir, you will avoid all violent measures. »  »
38363.544 You will express the people’s grievances; you already know them. When will I know the answer?
38368.784  » « In four days, send me a man to the beach at San Diego, and I will tell him what the person I hope in gives me… If he accepts,
38376.504 justice will be done for us, and if not, I will be the first to fall in the fight. » that we will undertake. « Elias will not die, Elias will be the leader, when Captain Pablo falls
38386.424 satisfied in his revenge, » said the old man. And he himself accompanied the young man out of the cave.
38392.504 Chapter 49. THE COCKPIT To sanctify Sunday afternoon, people generally go to the cockpit
38398.464 in the Philippines, as to the bullfights in Spain. Cockfighting, a passion introduced into the country and exploited a century ago, is one of the vices
38408.744 of the people, more transcendental than opium among the Chinese people; there the
38415.864 poor go to risk what they have, eager to earn money without working;
38421.264 there the rich go to amuse themselves, using the money left over from their feasts and grace masses; but the fortune they gamble is theirs;
38429.864 the rooster is trained with great care, perhaps more carefully than the son, successor to the father in the cockpit, and this excuses the players.
38438.264 Since the government permits it, and almost recommends it, mandating that the spectacle only be held in public squares on holidays
38447.784 (so that everyone can see it and set an example?), after high mass until dark (eight hours), we will attend this game to
38456.584 find some acquaintances. The San Diego cockpit is no different from the others found
38462.824 in other towns except in some features. It consists of three compartments: the first, or the entrance, is a large rectangle
38470.744 about twenty meters long by fourteen meters wide; on one side is a door, usually guarded by a woman,
38479.704 who is in charge of collecting the sa pintû, or entrance fee. Of this contribution, which each person contributes there, the government receives a portion,
38488.704 some hundreds of thousands of pesos a year. They say that with this money, with which vice pays for its freedom, magnificent
38498.424 schools are built, bridges and roads constructed, prizes are instituted
38503.904 to promote agriculture and commerce… Blessed be the vice that produces such good results! In this first enclosure are
38511.464 the sellers of buyo, cigars, sweets and groceries, etc.; there swarm the boys who accompany their parents or uncles, who
38519.704 carefully initiate them into the secrets of life. This enclosure communicates with another of slightly larger proportions,
38527.76 a kind of foyer where the public gathers before the release [138]. There are most of the cocks, tied by a rope
38537.04 to the ground by means of a nail made of bone or a palm tree; there are the gamblers, the amateurs, the expert knife tyer; There, contracts are made,
38546.72 people meditate, borrow, curse, swear, and laugh aloud.
38552.72 One strokes his rooster, running his hand over its bright plumage; another examines and counts the scales on its legs;
38561.52 the deeds of heroes are recounted; there you will see many, with sullen faces, carrying a plucked carcass by the foot: the animal that was
38570.8 their favorite for months, pampered, cared for day and night, and in which they placed flattering hopes, is now nothing more than a corpse and is going
38580.08 to be sold for a peseta, to be cooked with ginger and eaten that same night: sic transit gloria mundi! The loser returns
38589.08 home where his restless wife and ragged children await him, without his capital and without the rooster. From all that golden dream, from
38596.32 all those cares for months, from dawn to sunset, from all those toils and labors,
38604.8 a peseta results, the ashes left by so much smoke. In this foyer
38610.24 , the least intelligent argue; the most frivolous conscientiously examines the matter, weighs, contemplates, stretches his wings, feels the muscles of
38619.92 those animals. Some are very well dressed, followed and surrounded by supporters of their cocks; others, dirty, with the seal of vice
38629.584 marked on their gaunt faces, anxiously follow the movements of the rich and pay attention to the bets, because the purse can be emptied,
38637.704 but passion cannot be satiated: there is no face there that is not animated;
38643.064 there is no indolent Filipino, the apathetic, the silent: everything is
38648.264 movement, passion, eagerness; one would say they have that thirst that fuels the mud water.
38653.984 From this place, one passes to the arena called the « ruera. » The floor, fenced
38659.384 with reeds, is usually higher than the previous two. At the top, almost touching the ceiling, there are stands for the
38668.544 spectators or players, which are essentially the same thing. During the fight, these stands are filled with men and boys who shout,
38675.944 yell, sweat, argue, and swear; fortunately, almost no women
38682.144 make it up there. The prominent men, the rich, the famous gamblers, the contractor, and the judge are on the « ruera. » On the
38691.744 perfectly packed ground, the animals fight, and from there, fate distributes laughter or tears, feasts or hunger to the families.
38702.024 At the time we enter, we already see the gobernadorcillo, Captain Pablo, Captain Basilio, and Lucas, the man with the scar on his face,
38711.144 who so mourned the death of his brother. Captain Basilio approaches a villager and asks:
38718.184 « Do you know what rooster Captain Tiago is bringing? » « I don’t know, sir; two arrived this morning, one of them is
38725.224 the lásak that won the consul’s talisain. » « Do you think my búlik [139]
38730.864 can fight him?  » « I certainly do! I’ll put my house and my shirt on it! » At that moment Captain Tiago arrived. He was dressed like the great
38738.664 gamblers, a Cantón linen shirt, wool trousers, and a jipijapa hat. Behind him came two servants, carrying the lásak and a
38747.784 white rooster of colossal dimensions. « Sinang told me that María is getting better and better! » said Captain
38753.184 Basilio. « Did you lose last night?  » « A little; I know you won… I’ll see if I can get even.
38760.384  » « Do you want to play the lásak? » asked Captain Basilio , looking at the rooster and asking the servant.
38766.384 « Depends, if there’s a bet. » « How much are you betting? » « Less than two, I won’t play it.  » « Have you seen my búlik? » Captain Basilio asks, and calls over a
38775.344 man carrying a small rooster. Captain Tiago examines it, and after weighing it and analyzing the scales,
38781.824 returns it. « How much are you betting? » he asks. « What you’re betting. » « Two and five hundred?
38786.944  » « Three?  » « Three!  » « Next time!  » The group of curious players spreads the news that two
38794.384 famous roosters will be fighting; both had their history and their fame earned. Everyone
38799.424 wants to see, to examine the two celebrities; opinions are expressed, prophesies are made.
38805.384 Meanwhile, voices grow louder, confusion increases, the circle is invaded,
38810.744 the stands are assaulted. The releasers bring two roosters into the arena , one white and one red, already armed, but their knives are
38819.904 still sheathed. Shouts of « Target! » « Target! » are heard; some
38825.024 voices shout « Target! » The white one was the so-called one, and the red one was the left-behind
38830.264 one—that is, the favorite and the outsider (discarded). Among the crowd circulate Civil Guards; they don’t wear the uniform of
38838.224 the worthy force, but they’re not in civilian clothes either. Guingon trousers with a red stripe, a shirt stained with the blue from the faded blouse, a
38847.024 garrison cap—this is the disguise in harmony with their behavior: they bet and keep watch, disturb and talk about keeping the peace.
38854.656 While shouting, they hold out their hands, waving coins and making them jingle; while they search their pockets for the last coin or, failing
38864.656 that, try to pledge their word, promising to sell the carabao, the next harvest, etc., two young men, apparently brothers, follow
38874.536 the gamblers with envious eyes. They come closer, murmur timid
38879.856 words that no one hears, grow increasingly gloomy, and look at each other with disgust and spite. Lucas watches them surreptitiously,
38889.016 smiles evilly, jingles silver pesos, passes near the two brothers, and looks toward the wheel, shouting:
38897.096 « I’ll pay fifty, fifty against twenty for the white one!  » The two brothers exchange a look.
38903.136 « I told you, » murmurs the elder, « not to bet all the money;
38908.496 if you had obeyed me, we’d have it for the red one now! » The younger timidly approaches Lucas and touches his arm.
38915.896 « Is that you? » he exclaims, turning around and feigning surprise; « Do you accept? »
38921.416 Your brother, my proposition, or have you come to bet? How do you expect us to bet, since we’ve lost everything?
38927.056 Then you accept? He doesn’t want to! If you could lend us something, since you say
38932.576 you know us… Lucas scratched his head, straightened his shirt, and replied:
38938.736 Yes, I know you; you are Tarsilo and Bruno, young and strong. I know that your brave father died as a result of the hundred lashes a day
38946.576 that those soldiers gave him; I know that you don’t think of avenging him… Don’t interfere in our story, interrupted Tarsilo, the
38956.536 eldest; it brings disgrace. If we didn’t have a sister, we would have been hanged long ago!
38963.216 Hanged? They only hang cowards, those who have neither money nor protection. And in any case, the mountain is close at hand.
38971.256 One hundred against twenty, I’m going for it! shouted one as he passed. « Lend us four pesos… three…
38977.104 two, » begged the youngest;  » then we’ll pay you back double; the freeing is about to begin.
38982.904  » Lucas scratched his head again. « Psst! This money isn’t mine, Don Crisóstomo gave it to me for
38989.304 those who want to serve him. But I see you’re not like your father; he was certainly brave; whoever isn’t, let him not seek amusement. »
38997.384 And he moved away from them, though not far. « Let’s accept it now, what does it matter? » said Bruno. « It’s the same whether we die by hanging
39004.904 or by shooting: us poor people are good for nothing else.  » « You’re right, but think of our sister. »
39011.384 Meanwhile, the ring has cleared; the fight is about to begin. The voices begin to fall silent, and the two freemen and the expert knife-tied man
39020.064 remain in the middle. At a signal from the sentencer, he draws his steel, and the fine blades gleam, threatening and shining.
39029.824 The two brothers approach the fence, sad and silent, and watch,
39034.984 leaning their foreheads against the cane. A man approaches and whispers in their ear: « Stop! [140] One hundred against ten; I’m for the white one! »
39045.424 Tarsilo looks at him with a stunned air. Bruno nudges him, to which he responds with a grunt.
39051.504 The releasers hold the cocks with masterful delicacy, taking care not to hurt themselves. A solemn silence reigns: one would think that those present,
39061.624 except for the two releasers, were horrible wax dolls. They bring one cock close to the other, holding the head of one so that when it is pecked it
39069.824 will become irritated, and vice versa: in every duel there must be equality, the same
39075.784 between Parisian Gauls as between Filipino cocks. Then they are brought face to face, brought close together, so that the poor little creatures know
39086.384 who has plucked one of their feathers and with whom they must fight. The feathers on their necks ruffle, they stare at each other fixedly, and flashes of anger escape
39095.024 from their round eyes. Then the moment has arrived: they are placed on the ground at a distance and the field is clear for them.
39103.384 They advance slowly. Their footsteps can be heard on the hard ground; no one speaks, no one breathes. Lowering and raising their heads as if measuring each other
39111.984 with a glance, the two roosters emit sounds, perhaps of threat and contempt. They have spotted the shining leaf, which casts cold, blue
39121.944 reflections; danger animates them, and they head toward each other resolutely, but a step away they stop, and with their gaze fixed, they lower
39129.864 their heads and ruffle their feathers again. At that moment their little brains are bathed in blood, lightning flashes, and with their natural courage they
39138.024 rush impetuously at each other. They clash beak against beak, chest against chest, steel against steel, and wing against wing:
39147.344 the blows have been skillfully parried, and only a few feathers have fallen. They measure each other again; suddenly the white one flies,
39156.744 soars up brandishing the deadly knife, but the red one has bent his legs, lowered his head, and the white one has only lashed the air;
39166.344 but upon touching the ground, avoiding being hit on his back, he
39171.584 quickly turns and faces them. The red one attacks him furiously, but he defends himself calmly: not in vain is he the public’s favorite. Everyone follows
39179.944 the vicissitudes of the combat, trembling and anxious, uttering the occasional involuntary cry. The ground is covered with red and
39188.664 white feathers, dyed in blood: but the duel is not at first blood; The Filipino, following the laws here given by the government, wants it to
39198.984 be a deathmatch or a match for whoever flees first. Blood is already dripping on the ground, blows are falling in abundance, but victory remains undecided.
39206.16 Finally, attempting a supreme effort, the white man throws himself forward to deliver the final blow,
39212.56 plunges his knife into the red man’s wing, and it catches his bones. But the white man has been wounded in the chest, and both, drained of blood,
39221.24 exhausted, panting, clinging to each other, remain motionless until the white man falls, spurts blood from his beak, kicks, and is dying.
39229.48 The red man, holding onto the wing, remains at his side, slowly bends his legs, and slowly closes his eyes.
39237.0 Then the judge, in accordance with government regulations, declares the red man the winner; a loud voice greets the sentence,
39247.52 a shout that can be heard throughout the town, prolonged, uniform, and lasting for some time. Anyone who hears it from afar understands then that the one who
39255.96 has won is the one left behind; otherwise, the joy would be shorter. This is what happens among nations: a small one that manages to achieve a
39265.48 victory over a great one sings of it and recounts it for ever and ever. « You see? » Bruno said spitefully to his brother, « if you had believed me,
39274.84 we would have had a hundred pesos today; thanks to you, we’re broke.  » Társilo didn’t reply, but looked around with half-closed eyes,
39282.32 as if searching for someone. « He’s talking to Pedro over there, » Bruno added; « he’s giving him money, so much
39287.8 money! » In fact, Lucas was counting silver coins on Sisa’s husband’s hand
39293.28 . They exchange a few more words in secret and part, apparently satisfied.
39298.84 « Pedro must have been hired: that one, that one is decisive! »
39304.16 Bruno sighs. Társilo remains somber and thoughtful; he wipes the sweat running down his forehead
39309.68 with his shirtsleeve . « Brother, » says Bruno, « I’ll go if you don’t make up your mind; the law
39315.92 [141] continues, the lásak must win, and we can’t lose such a good opportunity. I want to bet on the next throw; what does it matter? That way
39325.36 we’ll avenge the father.  » « Wait! » says Társilo, looking him straight in the eyes: both
39331.24 were pale; « I’m going with you, you’re right: we’ll avenge the father. » He stops, however, and wipes his sweat again.
39339.52 « What are you standing on? » asks Bruno impatiently. « Do you know what throw is next? Is it worth it?
39345.0  » « No, no! Haven’t you heard? Captain Basilio’s bulik against Captain Tiago’s lásak; according to the law of the game, the lásak must win.
39353.88  » « Ah, the lásak! I’d bet too… but let’s be sure first. » Bruno makes an impatient gesture, but follows his brother, who examines
39363.28 the rooster closely, analyzes him, meditates, reflects, asks a few questions.
39369.08 The unfortunate man hesitates. Bruno is nervous and glares at him angrily. « But don’t you see that wide scale he has there, near the spur? Don’t
39378.08 you see those legs? What more do you want? Look at those legs, spread those wings! And this split scale on top of this wide one, and this double one?
39387.52  » Tarsilo doesn’t hear him; he continues examining the animal: the sound of gold and
39392.72 silver reaches his ears. « Now let’s look at the bulik, » he says in a stifled voice.
39397.84 Bruno stamps his foot, gnashes his teeth, but obeys his brother.
39403.04 They approach another group. There they arm the rooster, select knives, the
39408.24 rover prepares red silk, waxes it, and rubs it several times. Társilo surrounds the animal with a somberly impassive gaze:
39416.16 it seemed he didn’t see the rooster, but something else in the future. He runs his hand over his forehead.
39422.48 « Are you ready? » he asks his brother in a muffled voice. « Me? From before; without needing to see them!
39429.56  » « It’s just that… our poor sister…  » « Abá! Didn’t they tell you that the leader is Don Crisóstomo? Haven’t you
39435.36 seen him walking with the Captain General? What danger are we in? » « What if we die?  » « What does it matter? Our father was beaten to death.
39443.04  » « You’re right! » Both brothers search for Lucas among the groups. As soon as they spot him, Társilo stops.
39450.968 « No! Let’s get out of here, we’ll get lost! » he exclaims. –Go if you want, I’ll accept!
39458.168 –Bruno! Unfortunately, a man approaches them and says: –Are you betting? I’m for the bulik.
39465.168 The two brothers don’t answer. –Profit! –How much?–asks Bruno. The man began to count his four-peso coins: Bruno looked at him
39475.288 breathlessly. –I have two hundred; fifty against forty! –No!–says Bruno resolutely;–put…
39481.608 –Good; fifty against thirty! –Double up if you want! –Good! The bullik belongs to my boss and I just won; one hundred against
39489.208 sixty. –Deal! Wait for me to get some money out. –But I’ll be the custodian,–says the other, not trusting
39496.368 Bruno’s wiles much. –It’s all the same to me!–responds the latter, who trusts in his fists. And turning to his brother, he says:
39503.488 –If you stay, I’ll leave. Társilo thought for a moment: he loved his brother and the game. He couldn’t leave him
39511.168 alone, and he murmured, « So be it! » They approached Lucas; he saw them coming and smiled.
39517.648 « Mama! » said Társilo. « What’s up?  » « How much are you giving? » they both asked.
39523.048 « I’ve already said: if you take charge of finding others to attack the barracks, I’ll give you each thirty pesos, and ten to each companion. If
39533.208 all goes well, each of you will receive one hundred, and you two will receive double: Don
39538.968 Crisóstomo is rich.  » « Accepted! » exclaimed Bruno; « here comes the money.
39544.568  » « I knew you were as brave as your father! Come, so those who killed him don’t hear us! » said Lucas, pointing to the
39551.928 Civil Guards. And taking them to a corner, he said while counting their coins:
39557.808 « Don Crisóstomo will arrive tomorrow and he’s bringing weapons; The day after tomorrow, at night, around eight o’clock, go to the cemetery and I will tell you his last
39567.688 wishes. You have time to find companions. They said goodbye. The two brothers seemed to have switched roles:
39574.936 Társilo was calm, Bruno restless. Chapter 50.
39580.096 THE TWO LADIES. While Captain Tiago played his lásak, Doña Victorina took a walk
39586.576 through the town, intending to see how the indolent indigenous people were tending their houses and fields. She had dressed as elegantly
39594.976 as she could, putting on all her ribbons and flowers over her silk gown,
39600.216 to impress the provincials and make them see how much distance lay between them and her sacred person. And, linking her arm with her lame husband, she
39609.416 strutted through the town streets, amidst the stupefaction and astonishment of the inhabitants. Cousin Linares had stayed at home.
39618.536 « What ugly houses those native people have! » began Doña Victorina, making
39623.576 a face. « I don’t know how they can live there: you have to be an indigenous person. And
39628.816 how rude and proud they are! They meet us and don’t take their hats off! Hit them on the hat like the priests and the
39637.536 lieutenants of the Civil Guard do, teach them civility.  » « And what if they hit me? » asked Doctor Espadaña.
39643.296 « That’s what you’re a man for!  » « But… but I’m lame! » Doña Victorina was getting into a bad mood: the streets were not
39651.176 paved, and the train of her gown was filling with dust. She also met many young women who, as they passed by her, lowered their eyes
39660.016 and did not admire, as they should, her luxurious dress. Sinang’s coachman, who was driving her and her cousin in an elegant 3 per cent
39669.296 [142], had the nerve to shout « tabi » at her. with such an imposing voice
39675.176 that she had to step aside and could only protest: « Look at that brute of a coachman! I’ll tell his master to educate
39682.656 his servants better.  » « Let’s go home! » she ordered her husband.
39687.736 He, fearing a storm, turned on his crutch obeying the command. They met the second lieutenant, greeted each other, and this increased Doña Victorina’s discontent
39696.856 : the soldier not only did not pay her any compliments on her dress, but almost examined it mockingly.
39704.856 « You shouldn’t have shaken hands with a simple second lieutenant, » she said to her husband as he left; he barely touched his helmet and you took off yours.
39712.736 hat; you don’t know how to keep your position! « He’s the chief here!
39718.096  » « And what do we care? Are we indigenous people?  » « You’re right! » he replied, not wanting to argue.
39724.216 They passed in front of the soldier’s house. Doña Consolación was at the
39729.256 window, as usual, dressed in flannel and smoking her cigar. Since
39734.416 the house was low, they looked at each other, and Doña Victorina saw her clearly: the Muse of the Civil Guard calmly examined her from head to toe,
39743.936 and then, sticking her lower lip out, she spat, turning
39749.096 her face away. This exhausted Doña Victorina’s patience, and leaving her husband without support, she stood at attention in front of the lieutenant,
39757.416 trembling with anger and unable to speak. Doña Consolación slowly turned her head, calmly examined her again, and spat again,
39766.736 but with greater disdain. « What’s the matter with you, doña? » she asked. “Can you tell me, madam, why are you looking at me like that? Are
39774.456 you envious?” Doña Victorina finally manages to speak. “I am envious, and of you?” says Medusa sarcastically; “Yes! I
39783.736 envy your curls! ” “Come on, woman!” says the doctor; “don’t pay any attention to her! ” “Let me teach this shameless vulgar woman a lesson!” replies
39792.296 the woman, giving her husband a shove so that he almost kisses the ground, and turning to Doña Consolación.
39798.936 “Look who you’re dealing with!” she says; “don’t think I’m a provincial or a soldier’s mistress! Second lieutenants don’t enter my house in Manila
39807.176 ; they wait at the door. ” “Hello, Your Excellency, Mrs. Puput! Second lieutenants won’t enter,
39813.96 but invalids like that one will, ha! ha! ha!” If it hadn’t been for her blush, Doña Victorina would have been seen
39822.28 blushing. She wanted to attack her enemy, but the sentry stopped her. Meanwhile, the street was filling with curious onlookers.
39830.64 « Listen! I demean myself by talking to you; people of rank… Will you wash my clothes? I’ll pay you well! Do you think
39839.12 I don’t know you were a laundress? » Doña Consolacion stiffened furiously; the mention of washing hurt her.
39845.88 « Do you think we don’t know who you are and what kind of people you’re bringing? Gosh!
39851.04 My husband already told me! Madam, I at least have only belonged
39856.28 to one, but what about you? You’d have to die of hunger to carry the surplus, everyone’s rags. »
39862.4 The shot hit Doña Victorina in the head; she rolled up her sleeves, made fists, and, gritting her teeth, began to say:
39870.8 « Get down, you filthy old woman, I’ll smash that filthy mouth of yours! » « Mistress of a battalion, a whore by birth! »
39878.96 Medusa quickly disappeared from the window, and was soon seen running down, brandishing her husband’s whip.
39886.12 Don Tiburcio intervened supplicantly, but they would have come to blows if the second lieutenant had not arrived.
39892.72 « But ladies… Don Tiburcio!  » « Educate your wife better, buy her better clothes, and if
39899.0 you have no money, rob the people, that’s what you have soldiers for! » cried Doña Victorina.
39905.28 « Here I am, madam! Why don’t Your Excellency smash my mouth? You have nothing but your tongue and saliva, Your Excellencies!
39911.92  » « Madam! » said the second lieutenant, furious; « be thankful I remember you’re a woman, otherwise I’d have kicked you to bits
39920.08 with all your curls and ribbons!  » « Sir… second lieutenant! » « Come on, quack! You’re not wearing any trousers, Juan Lanas! »
39928.976 A row broke out with words and gestures, shouts, insults, and abuse;
39934.216 they unleashed all the filth they had hidden in their coffers, and since four of them were talking at once and saying so many things that discredit certain
39942.816 classes, while bringing out many truths, we renounce writing down what they said here. The curious, although they didn’t understand everything
39951.216 they said, were quite amused and hoped they would come to blows. Unfortunately, the priest came and made peace.
39959.216 « Gentlemen, ladies! What a shame! Sir Ensign!  » « What are you getting into here, you hypocrite, Carlist?
39966.616  » « Don Tiburcio, take your wife away! Madam, restrain yourself. » his tongue!
39972.096 —Tell that to those poor thieves! Little by little he exhausted his dictionary of epithets, finished the account
39978.976 of the shameless acts of each couple and, threatening and insulting each other,
39984.296 they gradually separated. Fray Salví went from one place to another, livening up the spectacle; if only our friend, the correspondent, had
39993.016 been present!…. —Today we’re going to Manila and presenting ourselves to the Captain General! —Doña Victorina would say furiously to her husband. —You’re no man;
40003.936 what a pity you wear such trousers! —But… but, woman, what about the guards? I’m lame!
40010.496 —You must challenge him with a pistol or a saber, or else… else… And Doña Victorina looked him in the teeth.
40016.296 « Daughter, I’ve never had sex… » Doña Victorina didn’t let him finish: with a sublime movement, she
40022.616 yanked out his dentures in the middle of the street and trampled on them. He, half-
40027.896 crying, and she fuming, arrived home. Linares was talking at that moment with María Clara, Sinang, and Victoria, and since
40036.776 he hadn’t heard anything about the disagreement, he was quite worried to see his cousins. María Clara, who was reclining in an armchair between pillows
40045.776 and blankets, was quite surprised to see her doctor’s new appearance. « Cousin, » says Doña Victorina, « are you going to challenge the ensign right now
40054.096 , or else…  » « And why? » asks Linares, surprised. « Are you going to challenge him right now, or else I’ll tell everyone here who you are?
40062.296  » « But Doña Victorina! » The three friends look at each other. « Do you think so? » « The ensign insulted us and said that you are
40069.256 what you are! The old hag came down with a whip, and this one, this one let himself be insulted… a man!
40075.776  » « Abá! » said Sinang; « they had a fight and we didn’t see him!  » « The ensign broke the doctor’s teeth! » added Victoria.
40084.576 « We’re leaving for Manila today; you stay here and challenge him, and if I don’t tell Don Santiago that everything you told him is a lie,
40092.296 I’ll tell him…  » « But, Doña Victorina, Doña Victorina! » interrupted Linares, pale,
40098.376 approaching her, « calm down; don’t make me remember… » and he added in a low voice: « Don’t be imprudent, just now. »
40107.856 Just as this was happening, Captain Tiago arrived from the cockpit, sad and sighing: he had lost his lásak.
40115.256 Doña Victorina didn’t give him time to sigh; In a few words and with many insults, she told him everything that had happened, of course, trying
40123.776 to put herself in a good light. « Linares is going to challenge him, do you hear? If not, don’t let him
40130.616 marry your daughter, don’t let him! If he doesn’t have courage, he doesn’t deserve Clarita…
40136.576  » « So you’re marrying that man? » asks Sinang, her joyful eyes filling with tears; « I knew you were discreet, but not fickle.
40145.096  » María Clara, pale as wax, half sits up and looks with frightened eyes at her father, Doña Victorina, and Linares.
40154.136 He blushes, Captain Tiago lowers his eyes, and the lady adds: « Clarita, keep this in mind; never marry a man who doesn’t
40163.976 wear trousers; you’re exposing yourself to being insulted even by dogs.  » But the young woman didn’t reply and said to her friends:
40170.096 « Take me to my room, I can’t walk alone. » They helped her get up; and with her friends’ round arms around her waist
40178.336 , her marble head resting on the shoulder of the beautiful Victoria, the young woman entered her bedroom.
40184.976 That same night, the two spouses gathered their things, gave Captain Tiago the bill, which amounted to several thousand, and
40194.016 left very early the next day for Manila in his carriage. The timid Linares was entrusted with the role of avenger.
40200.736 Chapter 51. THE ENIGMA. The dark swallows will return…
40206.056 (Becquer). As Lucas had announced, Ibarra arrived the next day. His first
40211.736 visit was to Captain Tiago’s family in order to see María Clara and report that Her Grace had already reconciled him to
40220.616 religion. He brought a letter of recommendation for the priest, written in the Archbishop’s own hand. Aunt Isabel was no little pleased by this.
40228.976 who loved the young man and did not look kindly on
40234.016 her niece’s marriage to Linares. Captain Tiago was not at home. « Come in, » the aunt was saying in her half-Spanish; « María, Don
40242.496 Crisóstomo is once again in God’s grace; the archbishop has excommunicated him.
40247.776  » But the young man could not advance; the smile froze on his lips, and the word fled from his memory. Standing next to
40257.456 María Clara on the balcony was Linares, weaving bouquets with the flowers and leaves of the vines; roses
40267.616 and sampagas lay scattered on the ground. María Clara, leaning back in her armchair, pale and thoughtful, her gaze sad, was playing with an ivory fan, not as white as
40277.064 her sharp fingers. At Ibarra’s presence, Linares turned pale, and
40282.224 María Clara’s cheeks were tinged with carmine. He tried to get up, but, failing him, he lowered his eyes and dropped his fan.
40291.344 An awkward silence reigned for a few seconds. Finally, Ibarra was able to come forward and murmur, trembling:
40298.424 « I just arrived, and I came running to see you… I find you’re
40303.744 better than I thought.  » María Clara seemed to have become mute; she didn’t utter a word
40309.144 , her eyes still lowered. Ibarra looked Linares up and down, a look the embarrassed
40315.504 young man held haughtily. « Come, I see my arrival was unexpected, » he replied
40321.384 slowly. « Maria, forgive me for not having announced myself; another day I will be able to give you an explanation of my conduct… we
40329.224 will meet again… for sure.  » These last words were accompanied by a glance at Linares. The young woman
40335.144 raised her beautiful eyes to him, full of purity and melancholy, so pleading and eloquent that Ibarra stopped, confused.
40343.264 « Can I come tomorrow? » « You know that I always welcome you, » she replied barely.
40349.824 Ibarra walked away, seemingly calm, but with a storm in his head and a cold heart. What he had just seen and felt
40357.304 was incomprehensible: what was that, doubt, lack of love, betrayal? « Oh, woman at last! » he murmured.
40363.344 Without noticing, he arrived at the site where the school was being built. The work was well underway; Ñor Juan, with his meter stick and plumb line, was moving back and
40371.784 forth among the many workers. When she saw him, she ran to meet him. « Don Crisóstomo, » she said, « you have finally arrived; we were all
40380.96 waiting for you. Look at the condition of the walls: they are already one meter
40386.04 ten high; in two days they will be as tall as a man. I have only admitted molave, dungon, ipil, langil; I have asked for tindalo,
40394.84 malatapay, pine, and narra [143] for the topsides. » « Do you want
40400.84 to visit the underground passages? » The workers greeted them respectfully. « Here is the canal I’ve allowed myself to add, » said Ñor
40409.04 Juan; « these underground canals lead to a kind of reservoir
40414.64 thirty paces away. It will be used for garden fertilizer; there
40419.76 wasn’t any on the plan. Do you dislike it?  » « On the contrary, I approve of it and congratulate you on your idea; you are
40427.24 a true architect: who did you learn from?  » « From me, sir, » the old man answered modestly.
40432.76 « Ah! Before I forget, let the scrupulous ones know (in case anyone fears speaking to me) that I am no longer excommunicated; the archbishop
40441.64 has invited me to dinner.  » « Abá, sir, we pay no attention to excommunications! We are all
40448.32 already excommunicated; Father Dámaso himself is, and yet he remains
40453.36 so fat.  » « How?  » « I believe it. » A year ago he hit the assistant priest with a stick, and the assistant priest
40459.32 is just as much a priest as he is. Who cares about excommunications, sir?
40464.56 Ibarra spotted Elías among the workers; he greeted him like the others, but with a look he made it clear he had something to say to him
40472.64 . « Ñor Juan, » Ibarra said, « will you bring me the list of the
40477.92 workers?  » Ñor Juan disappeared, and Ibarra approached Elías, who was lifting
40484.32 a large stone alone and loading it onto a cart. « If you could grant me, sir, a few hours of conversation,
40490.68 Take a walk along the lakeshore in the afternoon and board my bench,
40496.28 for I have serious matters to speak to you about, said Elías, moving away after seeing the young man shake his head.
40503.64 Ñor Juan brought the list, but Ibarra read it in vain; Elías ‘s name did not appear on it.
40509.48 Chapter 52. THE VOICE OF THE PERSECUTED Before the sun set, Ibarra would set foot on Elías’s bench
40517.0 on the lakeshore. The young man seemed upset. « Forgive me, sir, » said Elías somewhat sadly upon seeing him; « forgive
40524.84 me for daring to make this appointment; I wanted to speak to you freely,
40530.16 and we will have no witnesses here: in an hour we can return.  » « You are mistaken, friend Elías, » replied Ibarra, trying to smile;  »
40538.96 you must take me to that town whose bell tower we can see from here.
40544.08 Fate compels me to do it. » « Fate?  » « Yes; imagine that when I arrive I run into the ensign, who is
40551.92 making an effort to offer me his company. I was thinking of you and knew that he knew you, but to get him away I told him I was going to that town,
40560.4 where I’ll have to stay all day, since the man wants to look for me tomorrow afternoon.  » « I appreciate this courtesy, but you should have simply invited him
40569.24 to accompany you, » Elías replied naturally. « What! And you?
40574.72  » « He wouldn’t have recognized me, since the only time he saw me he couldn’t have thought of establishing my identity.  » « I’m in a bad mood! » Ibarra sighed, thinking of María Clara. « What
40583.16 did you have to tell me? » Elías looked around him. They were already far from the shore; the sun
40589.8 had set, and, since twilight barely lasts in these latitudes, the shadows were beginning to lengthen, making the disk of the
40599.0 full moon shine. « Sir, » Elias replied in a grave voice, « I am the bearer of the wishes of many unfortunate people.
40605.0  » « Of the unfortunate people? What do you mean? » Elias briefly recounted the conversation he had had with
40613.28 the leader of the tulisanes, omitting the latter’s doubts and threats. Ibarra listened attentively, and when Elias concluded his
40622.44 story, a long silence reigned, which Ibarra was the first to break:
40628.64 « So you desire… » « Radical reforms in the armed forces, in the priests, in the
40634.28 administration of justice; that is, they demand a paternalistic look from the government.
40639.92  » « Reforms in what sense?  » « For example; more respect for human dignity, more security for the
40646.56 individual, less force for the already armed forces, fewer privileges for this body that easily abuses them.
40654.28  » « Elias, » the young man replied, « I don’t know who you are, but I guess you’re not a common man; You think and act differently than
40662.8 others. You will understand me when I tell you that, although the current state of affairs is defective, it would be even more so if it were changed. I
40670.36 could get my friends in Madrid to talk, by paying them, I could talk to the Captain General, but neither would they achieve anything,
40678.52 nor does he have the power to introduce so many innovations, nor would I ever take a step in this direction, because I understand very well that
40685.8 if it is true that these Corporations have their defects, they are now necessary: ​​they are what is called a necessary evil.
40693.64 Elias, very surprised, raised his head and looked at him in astonishment. « Do you also believe, sir, in necessary evil? » he asked in a
40702.36 slightly trembling voice. « Do you believe that to do good, it is necessary to do evil?
40707.48  » « No; I believe in it as in a violent remedy that we use when we want to cure an illness. »
40713.504 Now, the country is an organism suffering from a chronic illness, and to cure it, the government is
40720.344 forced to use means, harsh and violent if you will, but useful
40726.464 and necessary. « A bad doctor, sir, is one who only seeks to correct the symptoms and
40732.144 suppress them, without trying to investigate the origin of the evil, or knowing it, is afraid to attack it. The Civil Guard has no other purpose than this: the suppression
40741.664 of crime by terror and force, a purpose that is neither fulfilled nor accomplished. » more than by chance. And it must be borne in mind that society
40750.624 can only be severe with individuals when it has provided them with the necessary means for their moral perfectibility. In our country, since
40759.064 there is no society, since the people and the government do not form a unity, the latter must be indulgent, not only because it needs indulgence, but
40767.104 because the individual, neglected and abandoned by it, is less enlightened. Furthermore, following your comparison, the treatment applied
40775.784 to the country’s ills is so destructive that it is only felt in the healthy organism, whose vitality it weakens and prepares for evil. Wouldn’t
40784.384 it be more reasonable to strengthen the sick organism and lessen the violence of the medicine a little?
40790.184 « Weakening the Civil Guard would endanger the safety of the towns.
40796.064  » « The safety of the towns! » Elías exclaimed bitterly. « It will soon be fifteen years since these towns have had their Civil Guard, and look:
40805.464 we still have tulisanes, we still hear of towns being sacked, roads are still blocked
40810.744 ; the robberies continue, and the perpetrators are not found. » Crime exists, and the true criminal roams free, but not the
40821.104 peaceful inhabitant of the town. Ask every honest citizen if they view this institution as a good, a protection from the government and not
40829.504 as an imposition, a despotism whose excesses hurt more than the
40834.984 violence of criminals. These are indeed great, but rare, and against them one is empowered to defend oneself; against the
40844.664 vexations of legal force, not even protest is permitted, and if they are not so great, they are nevertheless continuous and sanctioned. What effect
40853.264 does this institution have on the life of our towns? It paralyzes communications, because everyone fears being mistreated for trivial reasons;
40861.904 it focuses more on formalities than on the substance of things, the first symptom of incapacity; because someone has forgotten their ID, they must
40869.944 be tied up and mistreated; it doesn’t matter if they are a decent and well-regarded person ; The chiefs have as their first duty to be
40879.024 greeted, willingly or by force, even in the darkness of the night, while their inferiors imitate them in order to mistreat and rob the
40888.504 peasants, and they have no shortage of pretexts. There is no sanctity of the home:
40894.024 recently in Calamba, they attacked, by passing through the window, the house of a peaceful inhabitant to whom the chief owed favors; there is no security
40903.704 for the individual: when they need to clean the barracks or the house, they go out
40909.344 and seize anyone who does not resist to make them work during the day. Do you want more? For during these festivities,
40916.744 the prohibited games have continued, but they have brutally disturbed the rejoicings permitted by the authorities. You saw what the people thought of
40924.384 them; what did they gain by putting aside their anger and hoping in the justice of men? « Ah, sir, if this is what you call preserving order! »  »
40933.984 I agree that there are evils, » Ibarra replied, « but let us accept these evils for the good that accompanies them. This institution may be
40941.744 imperfect, but, believe me, it prevents the number of criminals from increasing, through the terror it inspires
40948.264 .  » « Rather, say that this terror increases the number, » Elías corrected himself. « Before the creation of this body,
40956.448 almost all criminals, with the exception of a very few, were criminals due to hunger; they plundered and stole to live, but the famine passed, and the
40963.968 roads were clear again; the poor but brave squad members,
40971.768 so slandered by those who have written about our country, were enough to drive them away with their imperfect weapons. Those who have a right to die, a duty to fight, and a reward for
40980.608 mockery. Now there are tulisanes, and they are for life. » A fault,
40985.808 a crime inhumanly punished, resistance against the excesses of this power, the fear of atrocious tortures cast them out
40994.568 of society forever and condemn them to kill or die. The terrorism of
40999.808 the Civil Guard closes the doors of repentance to them, and like a tulisán they fight and defend themselves in the mountains better than a soldier of
41007.928 Whoever mocks, it turns out that we are incapable of extinguishing the evil we have created. Remember what the prudence of Captain
41015.048 General de la Torre has done: the pardon he granted to those unfortunates
41020.368 has proven that in these mountains the heart of man still beats and only awaits forgiveness. Terrorism is useful when the people are enslaved,
41028.288 when the mountain has no caverns, when power posts a sentinel behind every tree, and when in the body of a slave there is only
41037.368 stomach and guts; but when the desperate man fighting for his life feels its strong arm, his heart beating, and his being filling with bile,
41046.128 can terrorism extinguish the fire it fuels? « You confuse me, Elias, to hear you speak like this; I would believe you were right
41054.328 if I didn’t have my own convictions. » But note one fact—don’t take offense, for I exclude you and view you as an exception—see
41064.728 who those demanding this reform are. Almost all of them are criminals or people who are about to become criminals!
41070.376 Criminals or future criminals, but why are they? Because their peace has been disturbed, their happiness snatched away, their
41079.256 most cherished affections wounded, and in asking for protection from justice, they have convinced themselves that they could only expect it from themselves. But you
41087.816 are mistaken, sir, if you think that only criminals ask for it. Go from town to town, from house to house; listen to the secret
41098.416 sighs of families, and you will be convinced that the evils the Civil Guard corrects are equal to, if not less than, those it
41106.576 continually causes. Would we deduce from this that all the neighbors are criminals? Then why defend them from the others? Why
41115.736 not destroy them all? « There is some error here that escapes me now, some error in
41121.456 theory that undermines practice, for in Spain, in the homeland, this body provides and has provided very great benefits.
41129.016  » « I have no doubt: perhaps it is better organized there, the personnel more select; perhaps also because Spain needs it, but not
41137.536 the Philippines. Our customs, our way of being, which are always invoked when they want to deny us a right, are completely forgotten
41147.016 when they want to impose something on us. And tell me, sir: why have other nations not adopted this institution, which, by virtue of their proximity
41154.336 to Spain, should resemble it more than the Philippines? Is this why they have even fewer robberies on their railroads, fewer riots, fewer
41163.296 murders, and fewer stabbings in their great capitals?  » Ibarra lowered his head as if in meditation, then raised it and answered:
41171.656 « This question, my friend, requires serious study; if my inquiries tell me that these complaints are well-founded, I will write to my
41180.216 friends in Madrid, since we have no representatives.  » Meanwhile, believe that the government needs a body with unlimited power
41189.224 to command respect and the authority to impose its authority. « That, sir, is when the government is at war with the country; but,
41197.224 for the good of the government, we must not make the people believe that they are in opposition to the government. And if that were the case, if we preferred power
41206.064 to prestige, we should consider carefully to whom we grant this unlimited power, this authority. So much power in the hands of men—ignorant men,
41215.904 full of passions, without moral education, without proven honesty—is a
41221.064 weapon in the hands of a madman among a defenseless crowd. I concede, and I want to believe with you, that the government needs this arm; so let it choose
41230.584 its arm well, let it choose the most worthy; and since it prefers to give itself authority to the people rather than have it granted to it, at least let it show that
41238.224 it knows how to give it to them.  » Elías spoke with passion, with enthusiasm; his eyes shone, and the
41244.424 timbre of his voice resonated vibrantly. A solemn pause followed: the banca,
41249.704 not propelled by the oar, seemed to remain calm on the water; the moon shone majestically in a sapphire sky; a few lights
41259.784 shone far away on the shore. « And what more do they ask for? » Ibarra asked. « Reform of the priesthood, »
41268.304 Elías replied in a discouraged and sad voice; « the unfortunates ask for more protection against… » « Against the religious orders?
41273.744  » « Against their oppressors, sir.  » « Have the Philippines forgotten what they owe to these orders? Have they
41279.544 forgotten the immense debt of gratitude to those who have led them out of error and given them faith, to those who have protected them against the tyrannies
41287.264 of civil power? This is the evil of not knowing the history of the country!  » Elías, surprised, could hardly believe what he was hearing.
41295.704 « Sir, » he replied in a grave voice, « you accuse the people of ingratitude; allow me, one of the suffering people, to defend them.
41303.28 Favors done, in order to have the right to recognition, must be disinterested. Let us ignore the mission, the
41312.6 much-abused Christian charity; let us disregard history; let us not ask what Spain has done to the Jewish people, who have given all of Europe one
41321.8 book, one religion, and one God; What has been done to the Arab people that has given them culture, has been tolerant of their religion, and has reawakened their
41331.28 national self-esteem, dormant and almost destroyed during Roman and Gothic domination ? You say they have given us faith and have led us out of error;
41340.52 do you call those external practices faith, that trade in belts and scapulars religion, those miracles and tales
41349.08 we hear every day truth? Is this the law of Jesus Christ? For this, God did not need to allow himself to be crucified, nor did we need to oblige ourselves to
41357.88 eternal gratitude: superstition existed long before; it only needed
41363.72 to be perfected and the price of goods raised. You will tell me that, however imperfect our current religion may be, it is preferable to
41372.12 the one we had; I believe it and agree with it, but it is too expensive, for for it we have renounced our nationality, our
41381.64 independence; for it we have given our best towns and our fields to its priests, and we still contribute our savings by purchasing
41390.64 religious objects. A foreign industry has been introduced to us , we pay well for it, and we are at peace.
41397.6 If you speak to me of the protection given against the encomenderos [144], I could answer
41404.8 that it was because of them that we fell under the power of these encomenderos; but no, I recognize that a true faith and a true love of humanity
41412.96 guided the first missionaries who came to our shores; I acknowledge the debt of gratitude toward those noble hearts; I know
41422.0 that the Spain of that time abounded in heroes of all kinds, religious, political, civil, and military. But
41430.44 because our ancestors were virtuous, would we consent to abuse in their degenerate descendants? Because a great good has been done to us,
41438.04 would we be guilty of preventing them from doing us harm? The country is not asking for abolition; it only asks for reforms that new circumstances
41446.24 and new needs demand. « I love our homeland, as you can love it, Elias; I understand
41453.36 something of what you want. I have listened attentively to what you said, and yet, my friend, I believe we see a little with the eyes of passion: here
41462.96 I see less of the need for reforms than elsewhere. « Is it possible, sir? » asked Elias, spreading his hands in discouragement.
41470.64 « Don’t you see the need for reforms, you whose family misfortunes…
41477.08  » « Ah, I forget myself and my own troubles for the safety of the Philippines, for the interests of Spain! » interrupted
41485.96 Ibarra briskly. « To preserve the Philippines, it is necessary that the friars continue as they are, and the good of our country lies in union with Spain. »
41495.12 Ibarra had already finished speaking, and Elias was still listening; his face was sad, his eyes had lost their sparkle.
41502.44 « The missionaries have conquered the country, it is true, » he replied; « do you think
41507.64 that the Philippines will be preserved through the friars? » « Yes, only because of them, so believe all those who have written about the Philippines.
41514.72  » « Oh! » exclaimed Elias, throwing down his oar on the bench in dismay; « I didn’t
41520.44 believe you had such a poor idea of ​​the government and the country. Why don’t you despise both? What would you say of a family that only lives
41528.88 in peace because of the intervention of a stranger? A country that obeys because He is being deceived, a government that rules because it uses deception, a
41537.52 government that does not know how to make itself loved or respected! Forgive me, sir, but I believe your government is clumsy and suicidal when it
41546.28 rejoices in being believed as such. I thank you for your kindness. Where do you want me to lead you now?
41552.08 « No, » replied Ibarra; « let us discuss; it is necessary to know who is right in such an important matter.
41557.8  » « Forgive me, sir, » replied Elías, shaking his head; « I am not eloquent enough to convince you; although I have had some
41565.48 education, I am an indigenous person; my existence is doubtful to you, and my
41570.68 words will always seem suspect to you. Those who have expressed the contrary opinion are Spaniards, and as such, even if they say
41577.96 trivial or simplistic things, their tone, their titles, and their origins consecrate them, giving them such authority that I desist forever from
41586.08 combating them. » Furthermore, when I see that you, who love your country,
41592.28 you whose father rests beneath these tranquil waves, you who have been provoked, insulted, and persecuted, hold such
41601.24 opinions despite everything and your enlightenment, I begin to doubt my convictions and admit the possibility that the people
41609.24 may be mistaken. I must tell those unfortunates who have placed their trust in men to place it in God or in their arms.
41617.72 I thank you again, and command you where I must lead you. Elias, your bitter words reach my heart and make me
41627.48 doubt as well. What do you want? I was not educated among the people, whose needs I perhaps do not understand; I spent my childhood in the
41636.008 Jesuit school, I grew up in Europe, I was educated in books, and I have read only what men have been able to bring to light;
41645.128 what remains in the shadows, what writers do not say, that I do not know. Nevertheless, I love our country, as you do, not only because it is
41655.088 the duty of every man to love the country to which he owes his existence and to which he may
41660.888 perhaps owe his final refuge; not only because my father taught me so, because my mother was an Indian, and because all my most beautiful memories
41670.088 live on in it; I also love it because I owe it and will owe it my happiness! « And I because I owe it my misfortune, » Elias murmured.
41677.088 « Yes, my friend, I know that you suffer, you are unhappy, and this makes your
41683.368 future seem dark and influences your way of thinking; that is why
41688.448 I listen to your complaints with a certain amount of caution. If I could appreciate the reasons, part of that past… »
41694.888 « My misfortunes have another origin; if I knew they were going to be of some use, I would tell you about them, for apart from not making
41703.288 a mystery of them, they are quite well known to many.  » « Perhaps knowing them will rectify my judgments; You know that I am
41712.448 very suspicious of theories; I am guided more by facts. Elias remained thoughtful for a few moments.
41719.808 « If that is so, sir, » he replied, « I will tell you my story briefly. Chapter 53.
41726.288 THE FAMILY OF ELIAS About sixty years ago, my grandfather lived in Manila and served as a
41731.968 bookkeeper in the house of a Spanish merchant. My grandfather was then very young, married, and had a son. One night, somehow or other,
41742.528 the storehouse burned down. The fire spread to the entire house, and from there to many others. The losses were innumerable; a criminal was sought, and
41751.808 the merchant accused my grandfather. He protested in vain, and since he was poor
41757.4 and could not afford to pay the famous lawyers, he was condemned to be publicly whipped and paraded through the streets of Manila. Not long ago,
41766.44 this infamous punishment, which the people call « horse and cow, » was still in use, a thousand times worse than death itself. My grandfather, abandoned by
41775.92 all but his young wife, found himself tied to a horse, followed by a cruel crowd, whipped at every corner, in the face of men,
41786.2 his brothers, and in the vicinity of the numerous temples of a God of peace. When the wretch, now infamous forever, had satisfied
41795.36 the vengeance of men with his blood, his tortures and his screams, they had to pull him from the horse because he had lost consciousness, and
41803.44 Would that he had died! For one of those refined cruelties, he was set free; his poor wife, then pregnant, begged in vain from
41812.32 door to door for work or alms to care for her sick husband and poor child. Who would trust the wife of an arsonist and infamous man? The
41820.8 wife, then, had to turn to prostitution! Ibarra rose from his seat.
41826.64 Oh, don’t worry! Prostitution was no longer a disgrace to her nor a dishonor to her husband: honor and shame no longer
41834.96 existed. The husband recovered from his wounds and came to hide with his wife and child in the mountains of this province. Here the woman gave birth to a
41844.24 damaged and diseased fetus, which had the good fortune to die. Here they lived for a few more months, miserable, isolated, hated and feared
41853.32 by all. Unable to bear his misery and less courageous than his wife, my grandfather hanged himself, despairing of seeing his wife sick,
41861.64 deprived of all help and care. The body rotted before the eyes of the son, who could barely care for his ailing mother, and the foul odor
41870.72 was brought to the attention of the court. My grandmother was accused and convicted for not having reported the death; she was blamed for her husband’s death, and this was believed,
41879.528 for what is the wife of a wretch, who later became a prostitute, not capable of? If she swears, they call her a perjurer; if she cries, they say she is lying,
41888.808 and if she invokes God, she is blaspheming. Nevertheless, they showed her consideration
41894.008 and waited for her delivery before whipping her. You know that the
41899.328 friars spread the belief that indigenous people can only be treated with beatings: read what Father Gaspar de S. Agustín says.
41908.728 Thus condemned, a woman will curse the day her child is born : which, besides prolonging the torture, violates
41918.608 maternal feelings. The woman gave birth happily, but unfortunately, the child was also born strong. Two months later,
41927.328 the sentence was carried out, to the great satisfaction of the men, who believed they were thus fulfilling their duty. No longer at ease in these mountains, she fled
41935.208 with her two sons to the neighboring province, and there they lived like wild beasts: hating and hated. The elder of the two brothers, who remembered
41944.568 his happy childhood amidst so much misery, became a tulisán as soon
41950.088 as he found the strength. Soon, the bloodthirsty name of Balat spread from province to province, terrorizing the people, because in
41957.368 his vengeance, he turned everything into blood and fire. The youngest, who had been given a kind heart by nature, had resigned himself to
41966.528 his fate and infamy at his mother’s side: they lived off what the forest
41971.568 provided, dressed in the rags thrown to them by wayfarers; she had lost her name, and was known only by the epithets of
41979.728 criminal, prostitute, and beaten woman. He was known only as his mother’s son, because, due to his sweet nature, they didn’t believe him to
41988.208 be the son of the arsonist, and because the morality of the indigenous people could be questioned . Finally, the famous Bálat one day fell into the hands of
41996.408 Justice, who demanded a strict accounting of his crimes, she who had done nothing to teach him good; And one morning, as the young man was looking for
42008.088 his mother, who had gone into the woods to pick mushrooms and had not yet returned, he found her lying on the ground by the side of the road, under
42015.728 a cotton plant, her face turned to the sky, her eyes wide open and fixed, her fingers clenched, buried in the ground, on which
42025.088 bloodstains were visible. The young man happened to look up and follow the gaze of the corpse, and he saw a basket hanging from the branch,
42034.848 and inside the basket the bloody head of his brother! « My God! » exclaimed Ibarra.
42040.328 « That’s what my father could have exclaimed! » continued Elías coldly. « The men had quartered the robber and buried the body, but
42049.488 the limbs were scattered and hung in different villages. » If you ever go from Calamba to Santo Tomas, you will still find a
42058.088 miserable lomboy tree where one of my uncle’s legs hung rotting:
42063.168 Nature has cursed it and the tree neither grows nor bears fruit. They did the same with the other limbs, but the head, the head
42072.568 As the best in an individual, as that which is most easily recognized, they hung her in front of her mother’s cabin!
42080.808 Ibarra lowered his head. « The young man fled like a cursed man, » Elías continued; « he fled from town to
42086.168 town, through mountains and valleys, and when he already believed himself unknown, he became a
42091.288 worker in the house of a rich man in the province of Tayabas. His activity,
42096.408 the sweetness of his character, earned him the esteem of all those who did not know his past. Through hard work and thrift, he managed to build a
42103.768 small fortune, and since poverty had passed and he was young, he thought he would be happy.
42108.888 His good looks, his youth, and his somewhat comfortable situation won him the love of a young woman from the town, whose hand
42117.208 he did not dare to ask for for fear of revealing his past. But love won, and both failed in their duties. The man, to
42126.608 save his woman’s honor, risks everything, asks for her hand in marriage, documents are sought, and everything is revealed: the young woman’s father was
42135.648 rich, managed to have the man prosecuted, but the man made no attempt to defend himself, admitted everything, and was sent to prison. The young woman gave birth to a boy
42145.808 and a girl, who were raised in secret, making them believe their father was dead, which was not difficult, given that they had seen
42154.848 their mother die at a tender age, and little thought was given to investigating genealogies. Since our grandfather was wealthy, our childhood was very fortunate; my sister
42164.368 and I were raised together, loving each other as only twins
42169.448 who know no other love can love. Very young, I went to study at the Jesuit school, and my sister, so as not to be completely separated, transferred to
42178.528 the Concordia boarding school. After completing our brief education, because our only desire was to be farmers, we retired to the village to
42186.768 take possession of our grandfather’s inheritance. We lived happily for some time ; the future smiled upon us, we had many servants, our
42196.608 fields yielded good crops, and my sister was on the verge of marrying a young man whom she adored and whose affection she reciprocated. For
42204.248 financial reasons, and because of my then haughty character, I alienated myself from the will of a distant relative, and one day he reproached me for my sinister
42213.568 birth and my infamous ancestry. I believed it to be slander and demanded satisfaction. The grave in which so much rottenness lay slumbered
42223.608 opened again, and the truth came out to confound me. To make matters worse,
42228.616 for years we had an old servant who suffered my every whim without ever leaving us, contenting himself only with crying and moaning
42236.856 amid the jeers of the other servants. I don’t know how my relative found out ; the fact is that he summoned this old man to court and
42245.376 made him declare the truth. The old servant was our father, who clung to his beloved children and whom I had mistreated several
42253.336 times. Our happiness faded, I renounced our fortune, my sister lost her fiancé, and my father and I left town for
42263.456 some other place. The thought of having contributed to our misfortune shortened the days of the old man, from whose lips I learned
42270.816 the entire painful past. My sister and I were left alone. She wept a lot, but amidst all the sorrows that
42279.656 piled up upon us, she could not forget her love. Without complaining, without saying
42284.776 a word, she watched her former fiancé marry another woman, and I watched her gradually
42290.216 become ill without being able to console her. One day she disappeared; in vain I searched for her everywhere, in vain I asked for her, until six
42299.696 months later I learned that around that time, after a flood of the lake, the body of a young woman, drowned or murdered, had been found on the beach of Calamba among some rice paddies
42307.936 . She had, they say,
42313.736 a knife stuck in her chest. The authorities of that town had the incident publicized in the neighboring villages. No one came forward to
42321.296 claim the body, no young woman had disappeared. From the details they gave me later, from her dress, her jewelry, the beauty of
42330.576 her face and her abundant hair, I recognized her as my poor sister. Since then I have wandered from province to province;
42338.352 My fame and my story are on the lips of many, deeds are attributed to me, sometimes I am slandered, but I pay little attention to men and continue on
42346.872 my way. Here is a brief account of my story, and the story of one of the trials of men.
42353.232 Elijah fell silent and continued rowing. « I am beginning to believe that you are not wrong, »
42358.632 Chrysostom murmured in a low voice, « when you say that justice should seek good by rewarding virtue and the education of criminals. Only
42366.672 … this is impossible, utopian; for where can one get so much money,
42371.872 so many new employees?  » « And what are the priests for who proclaim their mission of peace and charity? Will it be more meritorious to wet a child’s head with water,
42380.552 to feed him salt, than to awaken in the darkened conscience of a criminal that spark, given by God to every man to seek
42389.752 good? » Is it more humane to accompany a prisoner to the gallows than to accompany him along the difficult path that leads from vice to virtue? Aren’t
42398.432 spies, executioners, and civil guards also paid? This, besides being dirty,
42403.712 also costs money. « My friend, neither you nor I, even if we wanted to, will achieve it.
42410.272  » « Alone, in truth, we are nothing; but take up the cause of the people,
42415.832 unite with the people, do not ignore their voices, set an example to others,
42421.272 give the idea of ​​what is called a homeland!  » « What the people ask for is impossible; it is necessary to wait.
42428.312  » « To wait, to wait is equivalent to suffering!  » « If I asked for it, they would laugh at me.
42433.632  » « And if the people support you?  » « Never! I will never be the one to lead the multitude to achieve
42440.672 by force what the government does not deem appropriate, no! » And if I ever saw
42446.752 that armed multitude, I would side with the government and fight it, for in that mob I would not see my country.
42455.88 I want its good, that is why I am building a school; I seek it through instruction,
42461.96 through progressive advancement; without light there is no path. « Without struggle there is no freedom either! » Elias replied.
42469.44 « It is that I do not want that freedom!  » « It is that without freedom there is no light, » the pilot replied briskly. « You say
42476.4 you know little about your country, I believe it. You do not see the battle that is being prepared, you do not see the cloud on the horizon; the battle begins in the
42484.84 sphere of ideas to descend into the arena, which will be stained with blood. I hear the voice of God. Woe to those who want to resist him!
42492.72 History has not been written for them! » Elias was transfigured: standing, uncovered, his manly countenance,
42500.08 illuminated by the moon, had something extraordinary about it. He shook his abundant hair and continued:
42507.44 « Do you not see how everything awakens? The dream lasted centuries, but one day lightning struck, and the lightning, in destroying, called forth life; since then,
42519.04 new tendencies have been at work in the spirits, and these tendencies, now separated, will one day unite, guided by God. God has not failed
42527.76 other peoples, nor will He fail ours; his cause is the cause
42533.24 of liberty.  » A solemn silence followed these words. Meanwhile, the boat,
42538.84 imperceptibly carried by the waves, was approaching the shore. Elijah was the first to break the silence.
42545.6 « What shall I say to those who sent me? » he asked, changing his tone. « I have already told you: that I greatly deplore their condition, but that they should wait,
42553.68 for evils are not cured with other evils, and in our misfortune we all have our faults.
42559.56  » Elijah did not reply again; He lowered his head, continued rowing, and
42564.6 upon reaching the shore, he bade farewell to Ibarra, saying: « I thank you, sir, for the condescension you have shown
42572.04 me; in your own interest I ask that from now on you forget
42577.2 me and do not recognize me in any situation you find me. » And with that, he returned to steering the banca, rowing in the direction of a
42586.68 thicket on the beach. During the long journey he remained silent; he seemed to see nothing but the thousands of diamonds, which with the
42594.72 oar he pulled up and returned to the lake where they mysteriously disappeared among the blue waves. Finally he arrived; a man came out of the thicket and approached him.
42604.0 « What do I say to the captain? » he asked. « Tell him that Elias, if he doesn’t die first, will keep his word, » he answered
42609.04 sadly. « Then when will you join us?  » « When your captain believes the hour of danger has arrived.
42617.08  » « All right, goodbye!  » « If I don’t die first! » Elias murmured. Chapter 54.
42622.6 CHANGES. The prudish Linares is serious and full of anxiety; has just received
42628.92 a letter from Doña Victorina, which reads as follows: Dear cousin: In three days I hope to hear from you. If
42636.76 the ensign has already killed you or you have, I do not want another day to go by
42642.28 without this animal having its punishment. If this period passes, do not even read it challenged. I tell Don Santiago that you were never a secretary,
42651.76 nor did you joke with Canobas, nor did you go to hell with General Don Arsenó Martines. I tell Clarita that it is all bullshit, I will not give you
42659.84 a penny more if you challenge him. I promise you everything you want to have if you trust him. I warn you that there are no questions or reasons.
42669.28 Your cousin who loves you with all her heart, with Victorina de los Reyes de Espadaña. Sampaloc, Monday at 7 p.m.
42675.528 The matter was serious: Linares knew Doña Victorina’s character and knew what she was capable of; To speak to him about reason was to speak about honesty and
42685.968 civility to a Treasury officer, when he sets out to find contraband where there is none; pleading was useless; deception was worse;
42696.688 there was no choice but to defy. « But how? » he said, strolling alone; « if he receives me in
42702.288 a fit of temper? If I meet his wife? Who will want to be my godfather? The priest? Captain Tiago? Damn the hour when I
42711.848 listened to his advice! Boring! Who forced me to show off,
42717.408 to tell rumors, to cajole with boasts! What is
42723.568 that young lady going to say about me? Now I regret having been secretary to all the ministers!
42729.448  » The good Linares was in the midst of this sad soliloquy when Father Salví arrived. The Franciscan was indeed thinner and paler than
42737.048 usual, but his eyes shone with a singular light and a strange smile appeared on his lips.
42743.848 « Señor Linares, are you alone? » he greeted, heading for the living room, through whose half-open door a few piano notes escaped.
42751.728 Linares tried to smile. « And Don Santiago? » added the priest. Captain Tiago appeared at that very moment, kissed the priest’s hand,
42760.808 took off his hat and cane, smiling like a saint. « Come, come! » said the priest, entering the living room, followed by Linares
42770.688 and Captain Tiago. « I have good news to share with everyone. I have received letters from Manila confirming what
42778.448 Señor Ibarra brought me yesterday… so, Don Santiago, the impediment disappears. »
42783.648 María Clara, who was sitting at the piano between her two friends, half rises, but loses her strength and sits back down. Linares
42791.488 turns pale and looks at Captain Tiago, who lowers his eyes. « That young man is beginning to seem very likeable to me, » the priest continued. « At
42799.688 first I misjudged him… he’s a bit quick-tempered, but later he knows how to correct his faults so well that one can’t hold a grudge against him. If
42806.984 it weren’t for Padre Dámaso… » And the priest glanced quickly at María Clara, who was listening, but
42814.144 without taking her eyes off the music paper, despite the covert pinches from Sinang, who thus expressed her joy, and if she were
42822.944 alone she would have danced. « Father Dámaso? » Linares asked. « Yes, Padre Dámaso said, » the priest continued without taking his
42830.944 eyes off María Clara, « that as… a godfather at baptism, he couldn’t allow it… but anyway, I believe that if Señor Ibarra asks for her forgiveness,
42840.264 which I have no doubt he will, everything will be all right. » María Clara got up, made an excuse, and retired to her room,
42847.384 accompanied by Victoria. « And what if Father Dámaso doesn’t forgive him? » Captain
42853.504 Tiago asks in a low voice. « Then… María Clara will see… Father Dámaso is her spiritual father; but I believe they will understand each other. »
42861.184 At that moment, footsteps were heard and Ibarra appeared, followed by the Aunt Isabel: her presence made a very mixed impression. She
42870.264 affably greeted Captain Tiago, who didn’t know whether to smile or cry,
42875.384 and Linares with a profound bow. Fray Salví stood up and extended his hand so affectionately that Ibarra couldn’t
42883.664 contain a look of surprise. « Don’t be surprised, » Fray Salví said; « I was just praising
42890.424 you.  » Ibarra thanked him and approached Sinang. « Where have you been all day? » she asked with her
42898.264 youthful chattiness. « We wondered and said to ourselves: Where has that soul redeemed from purgatory gone? » And each of us said something.
42906.544 « And may I ask what you were saying?  » « No, that’s a secret, but I’ll tell you privately. Now tell us
42913.384 where you’ve been, so we can see who can guess. » « No, that’s also a secret, but I’ll tell you in private, if the
42920.568 gentlemen permit it.  » « I certainly do! I certainly do! » said Father Salví.
42926.768 Sinang led Crisóstomo to one end of the room; she was very
42931.888 happy at the idea of ​​knowing a secret. « Tell me, my dear friend, » asked Ibarra, « is María angry with me? »
42938.608 « I don’t know, but she says it’s better for you to forget her, and she begins to cry. Captain Tiago wants her to marry that gentleman, and
42946.328 so does Father Dámaso, but she won’t say yes or no. This morning, when we were asking about you and I said, ‘Has he gone to make love to
42955.408 someone?’ she answered, ‘I wish!’ and began to cry.
42960.648 Ibarra was serious. « Tell María I want to speak to her alone.  » « Alone? » asked Sinang, frowning and looking at him.
42969.088 « Not entirely alone, no; but he shouldn’t be there.  » « It’s difficult: but don’t worry, I’ll tell him.
42976.008  » « And when will I know the answer?  » « Tomorrow, go home early. Maria never wants to be alone;
42982.768 we accompany her; Victorina sleeps one night at her side and I the next; tomorrow it’s my turn. But listen, what about the secret? Are you leaving without telling me
42992.168 the main thing?  » « It’s true! I was in the town of Los Baños; I’m going to exploit the
42997.248 coca fields, because I’m planning to set up a factory; your father will be my partner.  » « Nothing more than that? What a secret! » exclaimed Sinang aloud,
43006.448 in the tone of a swindled usurer; « I thought…  » « Careful! I won’t allow you to publish it!  » « You won’t! » replied Sinang, wrinkling her nose. « If it were something more
43016.168 important, I’d tell my friends; but buying coconuts! Coconuts! » Who ‘s interested in coconuts?
43022.688 And she hurried off to find her friends. Moments later, Ibarra said goodbye, seeing that the gathering could
43029.592 only languish; Captain Tiago had a bittersweet face, Linares
43035.272 was silent and observed, the priest, feigning joy, spoke of strange things. None of the young women had returned.
43042.672 Chapter 55. THE LETTER OF THE DEAD AND THE SHADOWS The cloudy sky hides the moon; a cold wind, a harbinger of approaching
43052.552 December, sweeps some dry leaves and dust across the narrow path
43057.752 that leads to the cemetery. Three shadows speak to each other in low voices beneath the door.
43063.792 « Have you spoken to Elías? » a voice asked. « No, you know he is very strange and circumspect, but he must be one of
43070.272 us: Don Crisóstomo saved his life. » « That’s why I also accepted, » says the first voice; « Don Crisóstomo
43077.432 is having my wife treated at a doctor’s house in Manila. I’ve taken charge of the convent to settle my accounts with the priest.
43083.872  » « And we’re going to the barracks to tell the civilians that our father had children.  » « How many of you will there be?
43089.912  » « Five, five is enough. Don Crisóstomo’s servant says there will be twenty.
43095.832  » « And if you don’t come out all right?  » « Holy! » said one, and they all fell silent.
43101.272 Through the semi-darkness, a shadow could be seen approaching, gliding along the fence: from time to time it stopped as if it were turning
43109.912 its face back. And it had good reason. Behind it, about twenty paces away, came another shadow,
43117.312 larger, and which seemed more shadowy than the first: so lightly did it step
43123.872 the ground disappeared rapidly as if swallowed up by the earth each time the first stopped and turned around.
43129.832 « They’re following me! » the latter murmured. « Could it be the Civil Guard? Is the
43135.192 head sacristan lying?  » « They say the rendezvous is here, » the second shadow said in a low voice. « There
43140.952 must be something bad going on when the two brothers keep it from me. » The first shadow finally reached the cemetery gate.
43148.04 The first three moved forward. « Is it you?  » « Is it you?
43153.52  » « Let’s split up, they’ve followed me! Tomorrow you’ll have your weapons, and at night it will be. The cry is: Long live Don Crisóstomo! Go! »
43163.16 The three shadows disappeared behind the walls. The newcomer hid in the hollow of the gate and waited silently.
43171.52 « Let’s see who’s following me! » he murmured. The second shadow arrived very cautiously and stopped as if to
43177.4 look around. « I’ve come late! » he said in a low voice; « but perhaps they’ll come back. »
43183.56 And as a fine, light rain was beginning to fall, which threatened to last longer, he thought of taking shelter under the door.
43190.08 Naturally, he met the other. « Ah! Who are you? » asked the newcomer in a manly voice.
43197.04 « And who are you? » replied the other calmly. A moment’s pause; both tried to recognize each other by the tone of
43205.16 their voices and distinguish each other’s features. « What are you waiting for here? » asked the one with the manly voice.
43210.88 « When eight o’clock strikes, I’ll have the letter from the dead; I want to win a sum tonight, » replied the other in a matter-of-fact voice; « and
43220.08 what are you here for?  » « The… same.  » « Abá! [145] I’m glad: thus I shall be without a companion. I have cards;
43228.92 at the first stroke I’ll put a chance on them; at the second, a rooster; Those that move are the dead’s cards, and we must fight them out with
43238.4 all our might. Do you also bring cards? ‘ ‘No! ‘ ‘Then? ‘ ‘Quite simply; just as you provide a bank for them, I hope they
43247.24 ‘ll provide one for me. ‘ ‘And if the dead don’t? ‘ ‘What to do? Gambling hasn’t yet become obligatory among the
43253.24 dead… ‘ There was a moment of silence. ‘Are you armed? How are you going to fight the dead?
43259.4 ‘ ‘With my fists,’ replied the larger of the two. ‘Ah, devil, now I remember! The dead don’t aim when there’s
43267.72 more than one living person, and there are two of us. ‘ ‘Really? Well, I don’t want to leave.
43272.912 ‘ ‘Nor I, I need money,’ replied the smaller one; ‘but let’s do
43278.272 one thing: let’s play together, and whoever loses, let him go away.
43283.312 ‘ ‘So be it…’ replied the other with some disgust. ‘Then let’s go in… Do you have any matches?’
43289.712 They entered and searched in the semi-darkness for a suitable place,
43294.992 and soon found a niche in which they sat. The shorter one took some cards out of his salakot, and the other lit a match.
43302.392 In the light they looked at each other, but judging by the expressions on their faces, they didn’t know each other. However, we will recognize
43312.032 Elias in the taller one with his manly voice, and Lucas with
43317.192 his scar on his cheek in the younger one. « Cut! » said the latter, still watching him.
43323.032 He moved aside some bones he found on the niche and took out an ace and a knight. Elias lit matches one after the other.
43331.152 « Knight! » he said, and to mark the card, he placed a vertebra on top. « Game! » said Lucas, and after four or five cards he took out an ace.
43340.752 « You’ve lost, » he added; « now leave me alone to make a living. » Elias, without saying a word, walked away, disappearing into the darkness.
43349.192 A few minutes later, the church clock struck eight, and the bell announced the hour of the souls; but Lucas did not invite
43358.512 anyone to play: he did not evoke the dead, as superstition dictates,
43363.752 but instead uncovered his head and murmured a few prayers,
43368.952 crossing himself with the same fervor as the leader of the brotherhood of the most holy rosary would have done at that moment.
43376.152 It continued to drizzle all night. By nine o’clock the streets were already dark and deserted; the oil lamps, which each neighbor must
43385.712 hanging, they barely illuminated a sphere of one meter in radius: they seemed to be lit to make the darkness visible.
43392.952 Two civil guards were pacing up and down the street, near the church.
43398.48 « It’s cold! » one was saying in Tagalog, with a Visayan accent [146]; « We can’t
43404.0 catch a sacristan; there’s no one to fix the lieutenant’s henhouse… With the death of the other, they’ve learned their lesson; this bores me.
43412.88  » « And me, » the other replied, « no one steals or causes trouble; but, thank God, they say Elías is in town.
43419.68 The lieutenant says that whoever catches him will be free from flogging for three months.
43425.2  » « Ah! Do you know the signs by heart? » asked the Visayan. « I believe it! Tall, according to the lieutenant; average, according to
43434.08 Father Dámaso; Black person color, Black eyes, regular nose, regular mouth,
43440.28 no beard, Black person hair… –Oh! And any distinguishing features? –Black shirt, Black person pants, lumberjack…
43447.88 –Ah! He won’t get away; I think I see him now. –I can’t confuse him with anyone else, even though he looks similar.
43454.32 And both soldiers continue their patrol. In the light of the lanterns we see two shadows again, walking one behind
43459.88 the other with great caution. An energetic « Who’s there? » stops them both,
43465.96 and the first answers « Spain! » in a trembling voice. The soldiers drag him and take him to a lantern to identify him. It was
43473.64 Lucas, but the soldiers hesitate and consult each other with their eyes. –The ensign didn’t say he has a scar!–says the Visayan in a
43481.36 low voice.–Where are you going? –To send for a mass for tomorrow. –Haven’t you seen Elías?
43487.16 –« I don’t know him, sir! » answers Lucas. –I’m not asking you if you know him, fool! We don’t know him either; I’m asking you
43493.76 if you’ve seen him. « No, sir.  » « Listen carefully, I’ll tell you his address. Sometimes tall, sometimes average;
43502.4 black hair and eyes; everything else is average, » says the Visaya. « Do
43508.08 you know him now?  » « No, sir! » answered Lucas, stunned.
43513.4 « Then, sulung! donkey! donkey! » And they gave him a shove. « Do you know why Elías is tall for the ensign, and average for the
43521.52 priest? » the Tagalog thoughtfully asks the Visaya. « No. »
« Because the ensign was sunken in the puddle when he saw him, and
43528.328 the priest was standing.  » « It’s true! » exclaims the Visaya; « you have talent… how are you
43533.528 a civil guard?  » « I wasn’t always one; I was a smuggler, » answers the Tagalog
43539.128 boastfully. But another shadow distracted them: they gave it the « Who’s there? » and brought it
43545.208 into the light. This time it was Elias himself who appeared. “Where are you going?
43550.928 ” “To chase, sir, a man who hit and threatened my brother;
43556.328 he has a scar on his face and his name is Elias… ” “Ah!” the two exclaimed, looking at each other in terror.
43564.088 And immediately they began to run in the direction of the church, where Lucas had disappeared minutes before.
43570.448 Chapter 56. GOOD DAY IF YOU KNOW THE MORNING [147]
43576.128 Early in the morning, the news spread through the town that many lights had been seen in the cemetery the previous night.
43582.648 The leader of the VOT spoke of lit candles and described their shapes and sizes, but he could not say exactly how many,
43591.928 because he had counted more than twenty. Sister Sipa, of the confraternity of the Most Holy Rosary, should not tolerate the boasting of having seen
43601.168 this grace of God by one of the enemy confraternity: Sister Sipa, although
43606.568 not living nearby, heard lamentations and moans, and even thought she recognized in the
43611.688 voices certain people with whom she had once been… but, out of Christian charity, she not only forgave, but prayed and kept silent about their
43620.968 names, for which reason everyone declared her a saint incontinenti. Sister Rufa does not truly have such fine hearing, but she must not suffer that
43629.048 Sister Sipa heard it, and she did not; for this reason she had a dream and many souls were presented to her, not only of dead people, but
43638.288 also of living ones; the souls in torment asked for a share of her indulgences,
43643.528 carefully noted and stored up. She will be able to recite their names. to the families concerned, and asks only for a small alms to
43652.096 help the Pope in his needs. A young boy, a shepherd by trade, who dared to claim to have
43659.376 seen nothing but a light and two men with salakot, barely escaped beatings and insults. He swore in vain; his carabaos were
43668.576 with him and could speak. « Are you going to know more than the warden and the sisters, a para-mason [148],
43677.296 a heretic? » they said to him, looking at him with displeasure. The priest went up to the pulpit and returned to preaching about purgatory,
43684.496 and the pesos came out of their hiding places again to win a mass. But let us leave the souls in pain and listen to the conversation of Don
43692.936 Filipo and old Tasio, sick in his solitary little house. For days the philosopher or madman had not left his bed, confined by a
43702.216 weakness that was rapidly progressing. « I truly don’t know whether to congratulate you on having accepted your
43708.096 resignation. Before, when the gobernadorcillo so blatantly ignored the opinion of the majority, requesting it was only right; but now that
43717.376 you’re fighting with the Civil Guard, it’s inappropriate. In times of war, one should remain at one’s post.
43724.056  » « Yes, but not when the general sells himself out, » Don Filipo replied.  » You know that the next morning the gobernadorcillo released
43732.056 the soldiers I managed to capture, and he has refused to take a single step. Without my superior’s consent, I can do nothing.
43741.496  » « You alone, nothing, but with the others, a lot. You would have taken advantage of this opportunity to set an example for the other towns. Above the
43749.496 ridiculous authority of the gobernadorcillo rests the rights of the people; it was the beginning of a good lesson, and you lost it.
43756.536  » « And what could I have done against the representative of our concerns? There you have Señor Ibarra; he has yielded to the
43764.416 beliefs of the multitude. » Do you think he believes in excommunication? « You’re not in the same situation: Señor Ibarra wants to sow,
43773.056 and to sow, you have to lower yourself and obey the material; your mission was to shake, and to shake requires strength and drive. Besides, the fight
43782.296 shouldn’t have been against the gobernadorcillo; the phrase should have been: against him who abuses his power, against him who disturbs public tranquility
43791.616 , against him who fails in his duty; and you wouldn’t have been alone, since the country today is not the same as it was twenty years ago.
43801.416  » « Do you believe it? » asked Don Filipo. « And don’t you feel it? » replied the old man, half-sitting up in
43807.616 bed. « Ah! It’s because you haven’t seen the past, you haven’t studied the effect of European immigration, of the arrival of new books, and
43816.336 of the departure of young people to Europe. » Study and compare: it is true that the Royal Pontifical University of Saint Thomas still exists with its
43824.832 most learned faculty, and some minds are still exercising their powers
43829.952 in formulating distinctions and perfecting the subtleties of scholasticism. But where will you find now that metaphysical youth of
43837.872 our times, of archaeological instruction, who, their brains tortured, died sophisticating in a provincial corner, without fully
43847.392 understanding the attributes of being, without resolving the question of essence and existence, lofty concepts that made us forget
43855.992 the essential: our existence and our own entity? Look now at childhood! Full of enthusiasm in view of broader horizons,
43865.352 they study history, mathematics, geography, literature, science,
43870.912 physics, languages, all subjects that in our time we heard with horror, as if they were heresies; the freest thinker of my age
43880.272 declared them inferior to the categories of Aristotle and the laws of the syllogism. Man has finally understood that he is man;
43888.552 He renounces the analysis of his God, penetrating the impalpable, what he has not seen, giving laws to the phantoms of his brain;
43896.792 man understands that his inheritance is the vast world whose dominion is within his reach; tired of his useless and presumptuous work, he lowers
43905.752 his head and examines everything around him. See now how our poets are born; the muses of nature gradually open their treasures to us.
43915.792 And they begin to smile upon us, encouraging us to work. The experimental sciences have already borne their first fruits; now it remains for
43924.552 time to perfect them. New lawyers are being trained in the new molds of legal philosophy; some are beginning to shine amidst
43932.272 the darkness surrounding our platform, and they note a change in the march of the times.
43938.0 Listen to how the youth speak, visit the centers of learning, and other names resonate in the
43944.68 cloisters, where we only hear those of Saint Thomas, Suárez, Amat, Sánchez, and others, idols of my time. In vain do the friars cry out from the pulpit
43953.88 against demoralization, as fishmongers cry out against the greed of buyers, without noticing that their
43961.72 merchandise is stale and useless. In vain do the convents extend their extensions and roots to stifle the
43969.64 new current in the villages; the gods are leaving; The roots of a tree can weaken
43974.96 the plants that support it, but they cannot take the life of other beings, which, like the bird, soar to the heavens.
43983.44 The philosopher spoke animatedly; his eyes shone. « However, the new germ is small; if everyone aims at
43992.0 progress, which we buy so dearly, it can be stifled, » objected Don Filipo, incredulous.
43997.68 « Stifle it… who? Man, that sick dwarf, stifle progress, the powerful son of time and activity? When
44005.24 could he do it? Dogma, the scaffold, and the stake, trying to suspend it,
44010.32 push it forward. E pur si muove, » said Galileo, when the Dominicans forced him to declare that the earth did not move; the same phrase
44018.96 applies to human progress. Some wills will be violated, some individuals will be sacrificed, but it does not matter: progress will continue on
44028.64 its way, and from the blood of those who fall, new and vigorous shoots will sprout. « Look! The press itself, however retrograde it might like to be,
44037.832 is also taking a step forward; the Dominicans themselves are no exception to this law, and they imitate the Jesuits, their irreconcilable enemies:
44047.912 they give festivals in their cloisters, build little theaters, and compose poetry,
44053.112 because, as they are not lacking in intelligence despite believing themselves to be in the fifteenth century, they understand that the Jesuits are right, and will still take part in
44062.832 the future of the young peoples they have educated.  » « According to you, are the Jesuits in step with progress? »
44068.872 Don Filipo asked in wonder. « Why, then, are they being fought in Europe?  » « I will answer you like an ancient scholastic, » replied the philosopher,
44075.912 lying down again and recovering his mocking countenance: « There are three
44081.832 ways to go with progress: in front, beside, and behind. » The former guide him, the latter allow themselves to be led, the latter are
44090.912 dragged along, and to these belong the Jesuits. They would like
44096.272 to lead him, but, seeing him strong and with other tendencies, they capitulate,
44101.312 preferring to follow rather than be crushed or remain in the middle of the road in the shadows. Now, we in the Philippines are at least two
44110.792 centuries behind the chariot: we are barely beginning to emerge from the Middle Ages;
44116.072 that is why the Jesuits, who are a step backward in Europe, seen from here,
44122.192 represent progress. The Philippines owes to them its nascent instruction, the natural sciences, the soul of the 19th century, as
44131.472 scholasticism, already dead despite Leo XIII, owes to the Dominicans. There is no pope to resurrect what common sense has condemned… « But where have we
44139.992 gone? » he asked, changing his tone. « Ah! We were speaking of the current state of the Philippines… Yes, now we are entering the period of struggle, I mean, you:
44149.352 our generation belongs to the night, we are leaving. » The struggle is between the past, which clings and holds fast with curses to the wavering feudal
44158.512 castle, and the future, whose song of triumph is heard in the distance,
44164.152 in the glow of a rising dawn, bringing good news from other countries… Who will fall and be buried among the rubble?
44172.192 The old man fell silent, and seeing that Don Filipo was looking at him thoughtfully, he smiled and replied: « I can almost guess what you are thinking.
44179.672  » « Really? » « You think I may very well be mistaken, » he said, smiling sadly. « I have a fever today, and I am not infallible: homo sum et nihil
44189.792 humani a me alienum puto [149], said Terence. But if one may sometimes
44197.552 dream, why not dream pleasantly in the last hours of one’s life? And then, I have lived on nothing but dreams! You are right;
44206.352 I dream! Our young men think of nothing but love affairs and pleasures; they spend more time and work harder deceiving and dishonoring a
44214.912 young woman than thinking of the good of their country; our women, in caring for the house and family of God, forget their own;
44223.632 our men are only active in vice and heroic in shame; childhood awakens in darkness and routine; youth
44232.432 lives out its best years without an ideal, and mature age, sterile, only serves to corrupt youth by its example… I am glad to
44241.032 die… claudite jam rivos, pueri [150]. “Do you want some medicine?” asked Don Filipo to change the course
44249.992 of the conversation, which had cast a somber expression on the sick man’s face. “Those who are dying don’t need medicine; those of you who are left behind do. Tell
44259.992 Don Crisóstomo to visit me tomorrow, for I have some very important things to tell him. In a few days I will be leaving. The Philippines is in
44269.432 darkness!” After a few more minutes of conversation, Don Filipo left
44274.712 the sick man’s house, grave and thoughtful. Chapter 57. Quidquid latet, apparebit,
44281.504 Nil inultum remanebit [151]. The bell announces the evening prayer; upon hearing the religious ringing,
44289.744 everyone stops, leaves their occupations, and uncovers themselves. The farmer
44295.224 coming in from the field stops singing, stops the rhythmic gait of the carabao he is riding, and prays; The women cross themselves in the middle of
44304.344 the street and affectively move their lips so that no one doubts their devotion; the man stops stroking his rooster and prays the Angelus
44313.744 for favorable luck; in the houses, people pray aloud … every noise except the Hail Mary dissipates and falls silent.
44322.464 However, the priest, wearing a hat, quickly crosses the street and
44327.544 scandalizes many old women; and more scandal! He heads for the second lieutenant’s house. The devout women think it’s time to suspend the movement of
44336.704 their lips to kiss the priest’s hand, but Father Salví pays no attention to them; today he finds no pleasure in placing his bony hand
44345.704 on a Christian nose, and from there gently sliding it (as Doña Consolación has observed) into the bosom of a graceful young woman, who
44355.704 bends down to ask for his blessing. What an important matter must be preoccupying him , to forget his own interests and those of the Church!
44364.424 Indeed, he rushes up the stairs and knocks impatiently on the door of the second lieutenant, who appears frowning, followed by his better half,
44374.144 who is grinning like a damned woman. « Ah, Father Priest! I was going to see you now; you bastard…
44381.184  » « I have some very important business…  » « I can’t allow them to break into my siege… I’ll shoot you
44387.464 if you come back!  » « That’s if you have time to live until tomorrow! » said the priest
44392.984 , panting, heading towards the living room. « What! Do you think that seven-month-old puppet will kill me?
44399.816 I’ll kick him to bits! » Father Salví stepped back and instinctively looked towards the
44404.976 second lieutenant’s foot. « Who are you talking about? » he asked, trembling. « Who am I supposed to talk about, if not that fool who’s challenging me
44412.896 with a revolver at a hundred paces? » « Ah! » breathed the priest, and added: « I have come to speak to you about a
44418.816 very urgent matter.  » « Leave me alone! It will be like that of the two boys! »
44424.456 If the light had not been oil-powered and the globe had not been so dirty, the ensign would have seen the priest’s pallor.
44431.296 « Today we are seriously dealing with everyone’s life! » replied the priest in a low voice. « Seriously! » repeated the ensign, turning pale. « Is that young man shooting well
44439.856 ? » « I’m not talking about him.  » « Then? » The friar indicated the door, which he closed in his own way, with a
44447.376 kick. The ensign found his hands superfluous and would have lost
44452.416 nothing by ceasing to be a two-handed man. A curse and a roar responded from outside. “You brute! You’ve split my forehead!” cried his wife.
44460.536 “Now, spill the beans!” he said calmly to the priest. The latter looked at him for a long moment; then the nasal, monotonous voice
44469.416 of a preacher asked: “Didn’t you see me coming running? ” “Good heavens! I thought you had diarrhea!
44475.776 ” “Well,” said the priest, ignoring the ensign’s rudeness, “when I fail in my duty like this, there are serious reasons for it.
44483.416 ” “And what else?” asked the other, stamping his foot. “Calm down! ” “Then why come in such a hurry?”
44490.296 The priest approached him and asked mysteriously: “Don’t you… know… anything new?”
44495.496 The ensign shrugged his shoulders. « You confess that you know absolutely nothing.
44500.736  » « Do you want to talk to me about Elias, whom your head sacristan hid last night? » he asked. « No, I’m not talking about those stories now, » replied the priest sulkily;
44510.456 I’m talking about a great danger.  » « Well, b—! Come on then!
44515.656  » « Well! » said the friar slowly and with a certain disdain; « you will see once again the importance we religious men have; the last lay brother
44525.376 is worth a regiment; so a priest… » And lowering his voice and with great mystery:
44531.296 « I have discovered a great conspiracy! » The ensign jumped and looked at the friar in astonishment.
44536.976 « A terrible and well-planned conspiracy, which is to explode this very night.  » « This very night! » exclaimed the ensign, rushing at the priest; and,
44544.456 running to his revolver and saber hanging on the wall, « Who shall I arrest? Who shall I arrest? » he shouted.
44551.656 « Calm down; there’s still time, thanks to my haste; until eight o’clock! »  »
44556.976 I’ll shoot them all!  » « Listen! This afternoon, a woman whose name I must not reveal (it’s
44563.776 a secret of confession) approached me and revealed everything. At eight o’clock they took the barracks by surprise, sacked the
44571.576 convent, captured the barge, and murdered all the Spaniards.  » The ensign was stunned.
44578.456 « The woman hasn’t told me more than this, » added the priest. « She hasn’t said more? Then I’ll arrest her!  » « I can’t allow it: the tribunal of penitence is the throne
44588.056 of the God of mercy.  » « There is no God and no mercy that counts! I’ll arrest her!
44594.376  » « You’re losing your mind. What you should do is prepare yourself; silently arm the soldiers and ambush them
44602.496 ; Send me four guards to the convent and warn those on the barge.
44608.376 « The barge isn’t here! I’m asking the other sections for help!  » « No, then it’ll be obvious, and they won’t follow what they’re plotting. What matters
44617.096 is that we catch them alive and make them sing—I mean, you’ll make them sing; as a priest, I shouldn’t interfere in these
44625.376 matters. Pay attention! You can earn crosses and stars here; I only ask that you make it clear that I’m the one who warned you.
44633.904  » « It’ll be on record, Father, it’ll be on record, and perhaps you’ll get a mitre! » replied
44639.384 the radiant second lieutenant, looking down at the sleeves of his uniform. « So you’re sending me four guards in disguise,
44645.384 eh? Be discreet! Tonight at eight it’ll be raining stars and crosses. »
44650.424 While this was happening, a man was running down the road that led to Crisóstomo’s house and quickly climbed the stairs.
44658.504 « Is the gentleman in? » Elias’s voice asks the servant. « He’s in his office working.  »
44664.184 Ibarra, to distract his impatience while waiting for the time when he could have explanations with Maria Clara, had started working in
44671.744 his laboratory. « Oh, is it you, Elias? » he exclaimed; « I was thinking of you: yesterday I had
44679.424 forgotten to ask you the name of that Spaniard in whose house your grandfather lived.
44685.464  » « It’s not about me, sir…  » « Look, » Ibarra continued, not noticing the young man’s agitation and holding
44691.744 a piece of cane to the flame; « I have made a great discovery: this  »
44696.824 Cane is fireproof…  » « It’s not about the cane now, sir; it’s about gathering
44703.144 your papers and fleeing in a minute. » Ibarra looked at Elías in surprise and, seeing the seriousness of his expression,
44711.184 dropped the object he was holding. « Burn everything that could compromise you and, within the hour,
44716.984 find yourselves in a safer place.  » « And why? » he asked finally. « Make sure that everything you have that’s most precious is safe…
44724.104  » « And why?  » « Burn every paper written by you or for you: the most innocent can be misinterpreted…
44730.264  » « But why?  » « Why? Because I’ve just discovered a conspiracy attributed to you
44735.664 to destroy you.  » « A conspiracy? And who’s plotting it?
44740.976  » « It has been impossible for me to discover the name of its author; just now I spoke with one of the unfortunate men paid to do so,
44749.176 and whom I have been unable to dissuade.  » « And hasn’t he told you who is paying him?
44754.976  » « Yes, demanding that I keep it a secret, he told me it was you.  » « My God! » Ibarra exclaimed, and was terrified.
44763.056 « Sir, don’t doubt it, let’s not waste time, the conspiracy may break out tonight!
44769.176  » Ibarra, with his eyes wide open and his hands on his head, seemed not to hear him.
44775.296 « The coup can’t be prevented, » Elías continued. « I arrived late, I don’t know the leaders… save yourselves, sir, stay for your
44784.736 country!  » « Where can I flee? They’re waiting for me tonight! » Ibarra exclaimed, thinking of
44789.776 María Clara. « To some other town, to Manila, to the house of some authority,
44794.856 but somewhere else, so that it can’t be said that you were leading the movement!  » « And what if I myself denounce the conspiracy? »
44801.536 « You denounce! » exclaimed Elías, looking at him and stepping back. « You would be considered a traitor and a coward in the eyes of the conspirators, and a coward
44811.016 in the eyes of the others. One would say that you had set a trap for them to gain merit, one would say…  » « But what can you do? »
44816.656 « I already told you: destroy all the papers you have that relate
44821.856 to your person, flee, and await the events…  » « And María Clara? » exclaimed the young man. « No, rather die! »
44830.856 Elías wrung his hands and said: « Well then, at least avoid the blow, prepare yourselves for when
44837.856 they accuse you!  » Ibarra looked around him in a stunned gesture.
44843.016 « Then help me; there in those folders I have the letters from my family; choose those from my father, because they are the ones that could perhaps
44851.376 compromise me. Read the signatures. » And the young man, dazed and bewildered, opened and closed drawers, gathered
44860.144 papers, read letters quickly, tore some, put others away, took out
44865.424 books, leafed through them, etc. Elías did the same, although with less
44870.504 disorder but with equal zeal; but suddenly he stopped, his eyes
44875.544 widened, he turned over a piece of paper in his hand and asked in a trembling voice:
44881.624 « Did your family know Don Pedro Eibarramendía?  » « I believe so! » replied Ibarra, opening a drawer and taking out a pile
44889.304 of paper; « he was my great-grandfather!  » « Your great-grandfather Don Pedro Eibarramendía? » Elías asked again
44895.144 , pale and with altered features. « Yes, » Ibarra answered distractedly; « we shortened the surname, because it was too long.
44903.184  » « Was he Basque? » repeated Elías, approaching him. “Vascongado, what’s wrong with you?” he asks, surprised.
44909.904 Elías makes a fist, presses it against his forehead, and looks at Crisóstomo, who steps back upon reading the expression on his face.
44916.584 “Do you know who Don Pedro Eibarramendía was?” he asks through gritted teeth. “Don Pedro Eibarramendía was that wretch who slandered
44924.184 my grandfather and caused all our misfortune… I was looking for his last name,
44929.464 God has given you over to me… tell me about our misfortunes!” Crisóstomo looked at him in terror, but Elías shook him by the arm and
44936.984 said in a bitter voice roaring with hatred: “Look at me carefully, see if I have suffered, and you live, you love, you have
44944.504 fortune, a home, consideration, you live… you live!” And out of his mind, he ran toward a small collection of weapons, but
44952.024 no sooner had he pulled out two daggers than he dropped them and stared madly at Ibarra, who remained motionless.
44958.904 « What could I do? » he muttered, and fled from the house. Chapter 58.
44964.064 THE CATASTROPHE Over in the dining room, Captain Tiago, Linares, and Aunt Isabel are dining; from
44970.744 the living room, the sound of plates and cutlery can be heard. María Clara has said she has no appetite and has sat down at the piano, accompanied by the cheerful
44979.456 Sinang, who murmurs mysterious phrases in her ear, while Father Salví paces restlessly from one end of the room to the other.
44986.736 It’s not that the convalescent woman isn’t hungry, no; it’s that she’s waiting for someone to arrive and has taken advantage of the moment when her Argos
44996.056 can’t be present: the hour of dinner for Linares. « You’ll see how that ghost stays until eight, » murmurs Sinang,
45003.376 pointing to the priest; « he should come at eight. » He’s as in love as Linares.
45008.896 María Clara looked at her friend in terror. Without noticing, she continued her terrible conversation:
45016.056 « Ah! Now I know why he doesn’t go out despite my hints: he doesn’t want to waste electricity in the convent! You know? Ever since you fell ill, the two
45025.416 lamps I had lit have gone out again… But look at his eyes and that face! »
45030.576 At that moment, the clock in the house struck eight. The priest shuddered and went to sit in a corner.
45037.656 « He’s coming! » said Sinang, pinching María Clara. « Do you hear? » The church bell rang eight, and everyone got up
45045.416 to pray. Father Salví offered prayers in a weak, trembling voice, but
45051.336 since everyone had their own thoughts, no one paid attention . As soon as the prayers were finished, Ibarra appeared. The young man was wearing mourning not
45061.976 only on his clothes but also on his face, so much so that, upon seeing him, María Clara stood up and took a step toward him as if to ask
45070.136 what was wrong, but at the same instant a volley of rifle fire was
45075.416 heard. Ibarra stops, his eyes roll, he loses his words. The
45080.456 priest hides behind a pillar. New shots, new detonations are heard from the side of the convent, followed by shouts and running.
45088.92 Captain Tiago, Aunt Isabel, and Linares rush in, shouting « Tulisán,
45094.56 tulisán! » Andeng follows them, brandishing the spit and running toward his foster sister. Aunt Isabel falls to her knees and weeps and prays the kyrie eleyson; Captain
45105.36 Tiago, pale and trembling, carries a hen’s liver on a fork, which he weepingly offers to the Virgin of Antipolo; Linares has
45114.52 his mouth full and is armed with a spoon; Sinang and María Clara embraced; the only one who remained motionless, as if petrified, was
45123.56 Crisóstomo, whose pallor was indescribable. The shouts and blows continued, the windows slammed shut
45131.2 , and a whistle could be heard, a shot every now and then. « Christe eleyson! Santiago, the prophecy is being fulfilled… close
45140.4 the windows! » wailed Aunt Isabel. « Fifty large bombs with two Masses of Grace! » replied
45146.44 Captain Tiago; « ora pro nobis! » Little by little, a terrible silence returned… The second lieutenant’s voice could be heard
45153.24 running up, shouting: « Father Priest! Father Salví! Come here!
45158.48  » « Miserere! The second lieutenant asks for confession! » cried Aunt Isabel. « Is the second lieutenant wounded? » Linares finally asked; « ah!
45165.4 And now she noticed that he hadn’t even swallowed what was in his mouth. « Father, come here! There’s nothing left to fear! »
45173.32 the ensign continued shouting. Fra Salví, pale, finally makes up his mind, comes out of his hiding place, and goes down
45179.4 the stairs. « The tulisanes have killed the ensign! María, Sinang, to the room;
45186.72 barricade the door tightly! Kyrie eleyson!  » Ibarra also went to the stairs, despite Aunt Isabel,
45193.84 who said: « Don’t go out, you haven’t confessed, don’t go out!
45199.04  » The good old woman had been a close friend of his mother. But Ibarra left the house; it seemed to him that everything revolved around him,
45207.12 that he was missing the ground. His ears were ringing, his legs moved heavily and unevenly: waves of blood, light, and darkness
45216.632 followed one another across his retina. Despite the moon shining brightly in the sky, the young man
45222.672 stumbled over the stones and timbers in the lonely, deserted street.
45228.312 Near the barracks, he saw soldiers with fixed bayonets talking loudly, so he went unnoticed.
45234.152 In the courtroom, blows, shouts, groans, and curses could be heard: the
45239.872 second lieutenant’s voice stood out and dominated everything. « In the stocks! Handcuffs! Two shots for anyone who
45246.632 moves! Sergeant, you’ll stand guard! No one’s walking around today, not even God! Captain, there’s no need to sleep! »
45254.192 Ibarra hurried toward his house; his servants waited anxiously for him. « Saddle the best horse and go to sleep! » he told them.
45262.392 He entered his study and hurriedly tried to pack a suitcase. He opened an iron box, took out all the money there, and put it
45269.992 in a sack. He gathered his jewelry, took down a portrait of María Clara,
45275.032 and, arming himself with a dagger and two revolvers, went to a closet
45281.432 where he kept his tools. At that moment, three sharp, loud knocks sounded at the door.
45287.992 « Who’s there? » Ibarra asked in a gloomy voice. « Open up in the name of the King, open up at once, or we’ll break
45293.952 down the door! » an imperious voice answered in Spanish. Ibarra looked toward the window; his eyes flashed, and he cocked his
45302.872 revolver; but, changing his mind, he laid down his weapons and went to open it himself
45308.072 just as the servants approached. Three guards seized him instantly. « Give yourself up in the name of the King! » said the sergeant.
45316.352 « Why?  » « They’ll tell you there; we’re forbidden to say so. » The young man reflected for a moment, and perhaps not wanting the soldiers
45326.784 to discover his preparations for escape, he took a hat and said:
45331.824 « I am at your disposal! I suppose it will be for a few hours.  » « If you promise not to escape, we will not tie you up; the ensign
45342.384 is doing you this favor; but if you flee… » Ibarra followed them, leaving his servants dismayed.
45349.064 In the meantime, what had become of Elías? Upon leaving Crisóstomo’s house, he ran like a madman, not knowing
45355.904 where he was going . He crossed the fields and reached the forest in a violent agitation; he fled from the town, he fled from the light; the moon bothered him;
45367.064 he entered the mysterious shadows of the trees. There, sometimes stopping, sometimes walking along unknown paths, leaning against ancient
45375.784 tree trunks, tangling in the undergrowth, he looked down at the village below, bathed in the moonlight, stretched out on the
45385.024 plain, nestled against the sea. Birds, awakened from their slumber,
45390.264 flew about; gigantic bats, owls, and screeches flitted from branch
45395.424 to branch with shrill cries, staring at him with their round eyes. Elijah
45401.184 neither heard nor noticed them. He thought he was being followed by the angry shadows of his ancestors; on every branch he saw the fateful basket containing
45410.144 Balat’s bloody head, just as his father had told him; he thought he stumbled upon the dead old woman at the foot of every tree; he thought he saw
45419.424 the foul skeleton of his infamous grandfather swaying among the shadows… and the skeleton, the old woman, and the head all cried out at him: « Coward, coward! »
45428.824 Elijah abandoned the mountain, fled, and went down to the sea, to the beach he was walking on in agitation. But far away, in the middle of the waters, where the
45438.224 moonlight seemed to raise a mist, he thought he saw a shadow rising and swaying, the shadow of his sister, her chest covered in blood,
45447.744 her loose hair scattered in the air. Elijah fell to his knees on the sand.
45452.832 « You too! » he murmured, stretching out his arms. But, with his gaze fixed on the mist, he slowly got up, walked forward
45460.672 , and entered the water as if following someone. He walked along that gentle slope formed by the bar; he was already far from the shore,
45468.432 the water reached his waist, and he continued, continued as if fascinated by a seductive spirit. The water now reached his chest… but the
45476.912 volley of rifle fire resounds, the vision disappears, and the young man He returns to reality. Thanks to the quiet of the night and
45484.752 the greater density of the air, the explosions reach him clearly and distinctly. He stops, reflects, realizes he’s in the water; the lake
45493.912 is calm, and he can still make out the lights on the fishermen’s huts. He returns to the shore and heads for the village. Why? He himself doesn’t
45503.872 know. The village seemed uninhabited; the houses were all closed;
45510.152 even the animals, the dogs that usually bark during the night, have hidden fearfully. The silvery moonlight increased the
45519.352 sadness and loneliness. Fearing he might encounter the Civil Guards, he ventured into the orchards
45524.792 and gardens, in one of which he thought he saw two human figures. But he continued on his way and, jumping over fences and walls, reached with
45534.872 great difficulty the other end of the town, heading for Crisóstomo’s house. The servants were standing at the door, discussing and
45543.792 lamenting their master’s imprisonment. Upon learning what had happened, Elías left, went around the
45549.872 house, jumped over the wall, climbed through the window, and entered the study,
45555.472 where the candle Ibarra had left was still burning. Elías saw the papers and books; he found the weapons and the small bags
45562.752 containing the money and jewelry. He reconstructed in his mind what had happened there, and seeing so many potentially compromising papers,
45571.92 he considered gathering them up, throwing them out the window, and burying them. He glanced at the garden, and in the moonlight saw two
45580.76 Civil Guards approaching with an assistant: their bayonets and helmets
45585.96 gleamed in the darkness. Then he made a decision: he piled clothes and papers in the middle of the
45592.6 study, poured a kerosene lamp on top, and lit it. He hurriedly strapped on his weapons, saw the portrait of María Clara, hesitated
45602.16 … he put it in one of the little bags, and, taking them, jumped out the window.
45607.64 It was time; the Civil Guards were forcing their way in. « Let us go up to get your master’s papers! » said the little
45616.16 director. « Do you have permission? If not, you won’t get in, » said an old man.
45621.84 The soldiers pushed them back with rifle butt blows and went upstairs … but thick smoke filled the whole house and gigantic
45629.88 flames burst from the living room, licking at the doors and windows. « Fire! Fire! Fire! » they all shouted.
45638.48 Everyone rushed to save whatever they could, but the fire had reached the small laboratory and the flammable materials were exploding
45645.68 . The Civil Guards had to retreat; their way was blocked by the blaze, which roared and swept away everything it found. Water
45653.4 was drawn in vain from the well; Everyone screams, everyone cries for help, but they are isolated. The fire spreads to the other rooms and rises to the sky,
45662.12 raising thick spirals of smoke. The whole house is now prey to the flames; the wind, heated, increases; some
45671.28 peasants come from afar, but they arrive to see the terrifying bonfire, the end of that old building, so long spared by the elements.
45678.48 Chapter 59. WHAT IS SAID AND WHAT IS BELIEVED God finally dawned for the terrified people.
45684.912 The street where the barracks and the courthouse are located is still deserted and solitary; the houses show no signs of life. However,
45694.072 the wooden sash of a window opens with a bang, and a child’s head appears, turning in all directions, stretching its neck, and looking
45703.112 in all directions… Clap! The noise announces the abrupt contact of tanned hide against fresh human flesh; the child’s mouth makes
45712.072 a grimace, his eyes close, he disappears, and the window closes again . The example has been given; that opening and closing has undoubtedly been heard, because
45721.552 another window opens slowly, and the head of an old woman, wrinkled and toothless, cautiously peeks out: it is the same Sister Putê who
45732.472 caused such a stir while Father Dámaso was preaching. Children and old women are the representatives of curiosity on earth: the former for
45740.592 their desire to know, the latter for their desire to remember. Surely no one would dare to give her a slap, for she stands
45749.712 there, stares into the distance, furrowing her eyebrows, rinses her mouth, spits loudly, and then crosses herself. The house across the street
45758.472 also timidly opens a window and admits Sister Rufa, who doesn’t want to deceive or be deceived. The two look at each other for a moment, smile,
45766.792 make signs, and cross themselves again. « Jesus! It looked like a Mass, a castle! » says Sister Rufa.
45774.952 « Since Bálat sacked the village, I haven’t seen another night like it, » replies Sister Putê.
45780.032 « So many shots! They say it’s old Pablo’s party.  » « Tulisanes? It can’t be! They say it’s the squadrons against
45788.592 the civilians. That’s why Don Filipo is in prison.  » « Holy cow! They say there are at least fourteen dead. »
45795.952 Other windows were opening, and different faces appeared, exchanging greetings and making comments.
45802.92 In the light of day, which promised to be splendid, soldiers could be seen in the distance, coming and going, confusedly, like ashen silhouettes.
45811.12 « There goes another dead man! » said one from a window. « One? I see two.  » « And I… but anyway, don’t you know what it was? » asked a man
45820.92 with a sarcastic face. « Yes! The squad members.  » « No, sir; an uprising in the barracks!
45827.92  » « What uprising? The priest against the second lieutenant?  » « Well, nothing of the sort, » said the one who had asked the question; « it’s the
45834.8 Chinese people who have rebelled.  » And he closed his window again.
45839.84 « The Chinese people! » they all repeated with the greatest astonishment. « That’s why you can’t see any of them!
45846.28  » « They must all have died. » « I already suspected they were going to do something bad. Yesterday…
45851.4  » « I already saw it. Last night…  » « What a pity! » said Sister Rufa; « they all die before Easter,
45858.2 when they come with their gifts… They should have waited until the New Year… » The street gradually became more lively: first it was the dogs,
45866.48 chickens, pigs, and pigeons that tried to get through;
45872.08 these animals were followed by some ragged children, arm in arm and timidly approaching the barracks; then some old women, with
45881.8 their headscarves tied under their beards, a thick rosary in their hands, pretending to pray that the soldiers would let them pass
45890.08 . When it was seen that they could walk without being shot, then the men began to come out, affecting indifference. At first,
45899.6 their walks were limited to in front of their house, stroking the rooster; then they tried to lengthen them, stopping from time to time, and so they
45908.12 came right up to in front of the tribunal. Within a quarter of an hour, other versions circulated. Ibarra and his servants
45914.76 had tried to rob María Clara, and Captain Tiago had defended her, aided by the Civil Guard.
45921.12 The death toll was no longer fourteen, but thirty; Captain
45926.44 Tiago was wounded and is leaving immediately with his family for Manila. The arrival of two patrolmen, carrying
45934.64 a human figure on a litter, followed by a Civil Guard, caused a great sensation. It was understood that they were coming from the convent; from the shape of the dangling feet
45944.32 , one guessed who it could be; a little further on, it was
45949.56 said that it was; further on, the death toll multiplied, and the mystery of the Holy Trinity was fulfilled
45954.68 ; then the miracle of the loaves and fishes was renewed , and the death toll now reached thirty-eight.
45963.32 At seven-thirty, when other Civil Guards arrived from neighboring towns, the version circulating was already
45970.72 clear and detailed. « I’ve just come from the tribunal, where I saw Don Filipo and
45975.8 Don Crisóstomo imprisoned, » a man was saying to Sister Putê; « I’ve spoken with one
45981.44 of the guards on guard. Well, Bruno, the son of the man who was beaten to death, declared everything last night. As you know,
45989.0 Captain Tiago is marrying his daughter to the young Spaniard; Don Crisóstomo, offended, wanted revenge and tried to kill all the Spaniards, even
45998.92 the priest; last night they attacked the barracks and the convent; and fortunately, by the
46004.12 mercy of God, the priest was at Captain Tiago’s house. They say that many escaped. The Civil Guards burned
46012.64 Don Crisóstomo’s house, and if they don’t arrest him first, they’ll burn him too. « They burned the house?
46018.36  » « All the servants are imprisoned. See how the smoke can still be seen from here! » says the narrator, approaching the window; « those who come
46028.88 from there tell very sad things. » They all look toward the indicated place: a light column of smoke was
46035.52 still slowly rising to the sky. They all make comments more or less pious, more or less accusatory.
46041.24 « Poor young man! » exclaims an old man, Putê’s husband. « Yes! » she answers; « but look, yesterday he didn’t order a mass to be said
46050.88 for his father’s soul, who undoubtedly needs it more than the others.  » « But, woman, don’t you have compassion? »
46057.48 « Compassion for the excommunicated? It’s a sin to have compassion for the enemies of God, say the priests. » Do you remember? In the cemetery,
46067.12 he walked like he was in a corral! « But the corral and the cemetery are similar, » the
46072.2 old man replies; « only only animals of one kind enter there…  » « Come on! » Sister Putê shouts at him; « you’re still going to defend the one God
46082.04 so clearly punishes. You’ll see how they’ll arrest you too. Hold up
46087.32 a house that’s falling down!  » The husband fell silent at this argument. « Come on! » the old woman continues; « after beating Father Dámaso, there was nothing
46094.84 left for him but to kill Father Salví.  » « But you can’t deny that he was good when he was a boy.  » « Yes, he was good, » the old woman replies; « but he went to Spain; all those
46103.6 who go to Spain become heretics, the priests have said. » « Oy! » retorted the husband, who had seen her revenge; « and the priest, and
46111.16 all the priests, and the archbishop, and the Pope, and the Virgin, aren’t they from Spain? Abá! Are they also heretics? Abá! »
46119.8 Fortunately for Sister Putê, the arrival of a maid, running up, all flustered and pale, cut short the discussion.
46127.32 « A hanged man in the neighbor’s garden! » she gasped. « A hanged man! » everyone exclaimed, filled with amazement.
46133.28 The women crossed themselves; no one could move from their place. « Yes, sir, » continued the trembling maid; « I was going to pick peas
46144.48 … I looked at the neighbor’s garden to see if he was there… I saw a man swaying; I thought it was Teo, the servant, who always gives me… » I
46152.64 went over to… pick peas, and I saw that it wasn’t him but someone else, a dead man. » I run, I run and…
46159.76 « Let’s go see him, » said the old man, getting up; « lead us.  » « Don’t go! » cried Sister Putê, grabbing him by the shirt;  »
46167.72 a misfortune is going to befall you! Has he hanged himself? So much the worse for him!  » « Let me see him, woman; go to the tribunal, Juan, and report it; perhaps he isn’t
46177.04 dead yet.  » And he went to the garden, followed by the maid, who was hiding behind
46182.52 him; the women and Sister Putê herself were coming up behind, full of
46188.2 fear and curiosity. « There he is, sir, » said the maid, stopping and pointing with
46193.92 her finger. The committee halted at a respectable distance, leaving the old man to advance alone.
46199.52 A human body, hanging from the branch of a santol tree [152], was swaying
46205.2 gently, driven by the breeze. The old man watched it for some time; he saw those stiff feet, the arms, the stained clothes,
46214.16 the bowed head. « We mustn’t touch him until justice is served, » she said aloud
46219.84 . « He’s already stiff; he’s been dead for a long time.  » The women approached little by little.
46226.28 « It’s the neighbor who lived in that little house, the one who arrived two weeks ago; look at the scar on his face.
46233.12  » « Hail Mary! » some of the women exclaimed. « Shall we pray for his soul? » asked a young woman after she had finished
46240.2 looking and examining him. « Fool, heretic! » Sister Putê scolded her. « Don’t you know what
46246.12 Father Damaso said? It’s tempting God to pray for a condemned man; he who commits suicide is irremissibly damned; that’s why he isn’t buried in a
46256.04 sacred place.  » And she added: « I thought that man was going to come to a bad end; I was never able to find out
46263.24 how he made a living.  » « I saw him speak to the head sacristan twice, » a young woman observed.
46268.52 « It wouldn’t be time to confess or order a Mass! » The neighbors came, and a large circle surrounded the body, which
46276.6 was still swaying. Half an hour later, a bailiff, the director, and two constables arrived; they took it down and placed it
46286.56 on a stretcher. « People are in a hurry to die, » laughed the director,
46291.968 while removing the feather he had above his ear. He asked his leading questions, took a statement from the maid, whom
46299.688 he tried to entangle, sometimes looking at her with evil eyes, sometimes threatening her, sometimes
46304.848 attributing to her words she hadn’t said, so much so that she, believing she was going to prison, began to cry and ended by declaring that she wasn’t
46312.888 looking for peas, but… and he brought out Teo as a witness. Meanwhile, a peasant wearing a wide salakot and
46320.688 a large patch around his neck was examining the body and the rope. The face was no more bruised than the rest of the body; Above the
46327.688 ligature were two scratches and two small bruises or ecchymoses;
46333.488 the abrasions caused by the rope were white and bloodless. The curious peasant examined the shirt and trousers carefully and noticed that they were
46342.848 covered in dust and freshly stained personae in some places; but what caught his attention most were the seeds of dried amores [153]
46352.168 stuck even to the collar of the shirt. « What are you looking at? » the little director asked him.
46357.408 « I was seeing, sir, if I could recognize him, » he stammered, half uncovering his head, that is, lowering his salakot further.
46365.368 « Haven’t you heard it’s a certain Lucas? Are you sleeping? » They all burst out laughing. The peasant, embarrassed, uttered a few
46374.168 words and walked slowly away, head down. « Hey! Where are you going? » the old man shouted at him. « That’s the way out;
46382.688 that’s the way to the dead man’s house! » « The man is still asleep! » said the little conductor mockingly; « we’ll have
46389.768 to throw water on him. » The bystanders laughed again. The peasant left the place where he had played such a bad role and
46398.088 went to the church. In the vestry, he asked for the head sexton. « He’s still asleep! » they answered rudely. « Don’t you know
46406.696 the convent was looted last night?  » « I’ll wait for him to wake up. » The sextons looked at him with the rudeness typical of people
46413.696 accustomed to being ill-treated. In a corner, which remained in the shadows, the one-eyed man slept in a
46420.656 long chair. His glasses were perched on his forehead among his long locks of hair; his chest, thin and emaciated, was bare
46430.496 and rose and fell regularly. The peasant sat down nearby, ready to wait patiently, but
46438.856 a coin fell from his hand and, aided by a candle, he went to look for it under the head sexton’s chair. The peasant also notices the seeds of
46446.696 dried love on the trousers and shirtsleeves of the sleeper , who finally awakens, rubs his one good eye, and
46455.096 rather ill-humoredly rebukes the man. « I wanted to order a Mass to be said, sir! » he replies apologetically.
46460.976 « All the Masses are over, » the one-eyed man then says, softening his accent a little; « if you want it tomorrow… Is it for
46471.656 the souls in Purgatory?  » « No, sir, » the peasant replies, giving him a peso.
46476.936 And looking him fixedly in the one eye, he added: « It’s for a person who is soon to die. »
46483.976 And he left the sacristy. « I could have caught him last night! » he said, sighing, as he
46489.496 removed the patch and straightened up to recover the face and stature of Elijah. Chapter 60.
46495.976 Væ Victis! My joy in a well. Some Civil Guards saunter sinisterly past
46501.896 the court door, threatening with the butts of their rifles the daring kids, who stand on tiptoe or charge
46510.536 at each other to see something through the bars. The courtroom no longer presents the cheerful appearance it had when the
46517.048 festival program was being discussed; now it is somber and unsettling. The Civil Guards and the patrolmen who occupy it barely speak.
46526.128 and even in a low voice, uttering a few words. The director, two clerks, and some
46535.248 soldiers are scribbling papers on the table; the second lieutenant paces back and forth, occasionally glancing fiercely toward the door;
46544.248 Themistocles could not have appeared more proud at the Olympic Games after the Battle of Salamis. Doña Consolación yawns in a corner, showing
46553.488 black jaws and uneven teeth; her cold, sinister gaze is fixed on the prison door, covered with
46561.288 indecent figures. She had persuaded her husband, whom victory had made amiable, to allow her to witness the interrogation and perhaps
46569.208 the ensuing torture. The hyena was sniffing at the corpse, licking its lips, and bored by the delay of the ordeal.
46576.128 The governor is very contrite: his chair, that large chair
46581.328 placed beneath His Majesty’s portrait, is empty and seems destined for someone else.
46587.048 Around nine o’clock, the priest arrives, pale and frowning. « Well, you haven’t kept us waiting! » the ensign told him.
46593.808 « I’d rather not attend, » Father Salví replied in a low voice, ignoring
46598.848 that bitter tone; « I’m very nervous. » « Since no one came so as not to leave their post, I judged that your
46605.848 presence… You know that they’re leaving this afternoon.  » « Young Ibarra and the lieutenant major… »
46613.168 The ensign pointed toward the jail. « Eight are there, » he said; « Bruno died at midnight, but his
46620.688 statement is already recorded. » The priest pointed to Doña Consolación, who responded with a yawn and an
46627.608 « aah! » and sat in the armchair beneath His Majesty’s portrait. « We can begin! » she replied. « Take out the two who are in the stocks! » the ensign ordered in a voice
46637.12 that tried to make it as terrible as possible, and turning to the priest, he added, changing his tone:
46643.0 « They’re stuck jumping over two holes! » For those unfamiliar with these instruments of torture,
46649.6 the stocks are one of the most innocent. The holes into which the prisoners’ legs are inserted are spaced a little more
46659.12 than a hand’s width apart; by jumping two holes, the prisoner would find himself in a somewhat awkward position, with a peculiar discomfort in the
46667.44 ankles and an opening in the lower extremities of more than a yard’s width. It does not kill instantly, as one might well imagine.
46676.4 The jailer, followed by four soldiers, removed the bolt and opened the door. A nauseating odor and thick, damp air escaped
46686.76 from the dense darkness, while some moans and sobs were heard. A soldier lit a match, but the flame went out in
46696.16 the stale, corrupt atmosphere, and they had to wait for the air to clear.
46702.52 In the vague light of a candle, several human forms could be seen: men clasping their knees and burying their heads in them,
46712.76 lying face down , standing, facing the wall, etc. A banging
46718.44 and grinding noise was heard, accompanied by oaths: the stocks were being opened. Doña Consolación was half-leaning forward,
46727.16 her neck muscles stretched out, her bulging eyes fixed on the half-open door.
46732.28 Between two soldiers, a shadowy figure emerged, Társilo, Bruno’s brother . He held handcuffs in his hands; his torn clothes
46741.28 revealed well-developed muscles. His eyes insolently fixed on the second lieutenant’s wife.
46747.64 « This is the one who defended himself most bravely and ordered his companions to flee, » the second lieutenant said to Father Salví.
46754.76 Behind him came another of wretched appearance, wailing and crying like
46759.84 a child; he limped and his trousers were stained with blood. « Mercy, sir, mercy! I will never enter the
46767.24 courtyard again! » he shouted. « He’s a scoundrel, » the ensign observed, speaking to the priest; « he tried
46773.08 to flee, but he was wounded in the thigh. These two are the only ones we have alive.
46778.64  » « What is your name? » the ensign asked Társilo. « Társilo Alasigan.  » « What did Don Crisóstomo promise you to make you attack the barracks?
46786.36  » « Don Crisóstomo has never communicated with us. » « Don’t deny it! That’s why you wanted to surprise us.
46793.12  » « You’re wrong: you beat our father to death. Let’s avenge him, and nothing more. Look for your two companions.  »
46800.64 The ensign looked at the sergeant in surprise. « They’re over there on a cliff, we threw them down there yesterday,
46807.04 they’ll rot there. Now kill me: you’ll know nothing more.  » There was a moment of silence.
46813.8 « You’re going to tell us who your other accomplices are, » the ensign uttered, brandishing a vine.
46819.88 A smile of contempt appeared on the prisoner’s lips. The ensign conferred for a few moments, in a low voice, with the priest;
46828.08 and turning to the soldiers, « Take him to where the bodies are! » he ordered.
46833.48 In a corner of the courtyard, on an old cart , five corpses were piled up, half covered by a piece of filth
46842.32 -strewn straw matting. A soldier paced from one end to the other, spitting
46847.52 constantly. « Do you know them? » asked the ensign, lifting the matting. Társilo didn’t reply; he saw the corpse of the madwoman’s husband with
46856.56 two others: that of his brother, riddled with bayonets, and that of Lucas, still with the rope around his neck. His gaze turned somber, and a sigh
46865.56 seemed to escape his chest. « Do you know them? » they asked him again. Társilo remained silent.
46872.48 A hissing sound rent the air, and the vine lashed at his back. He shuddered,
46877.76 his muscles contracted. The vines were whipped repeatedly, but Társilo remained impassive.
46883.52 « Let them beat him until he bursts or declares! » shouted the ensign, exasperated.
46888.96 « Speak up! » said the little director; « they’ll kill you anyway. » They led him back to the room where the other prisoner was invoking the
46896.96 saints, his teeth chattering and his legs buckling. « Do you know him? » asked Father Salví.
46903.84 « This is the first time I’ve seen him! » replied Társilo, looking at the other with some compassion.
46909.52 The ensign punched him and kicked him. « Tie him to the bench! » Without removing the blood-stained handcuffs, he was secured to a
46919.2 wooden bench. The unfortunate man looked around as if searching for something and saw Doña Consolación; he laughed sarcastically. Surprised, those present
46929.52 followed his gaze and saw the lady, who was lightly biting
46934.6 her lip. “I have never seen an uglier woman!” exclaimed Tarsilo amid the
46939.8 general silence. “I prefer to lie on a bench, as I am, than beside her, like the ensign.”
46945.24 The Muse turned pale. “You will beat me to death, Sire Ensign,” she continued. “Tonight
46951.08 your wife will avenge me by embracing you. ” “Gag her!” cried the ensign, trembling with rage.
46956.48 It seemed that Tarsilo only wanted the gag, because when he had it, his eyes shot out a ray of satisfaction.
46963.6 At a signal from the ensign, a guard, armed with a vine, began his
46968.92 sad task. Tarsilo’s whole body contracted; a muffled, prolonged roar was heard despite the cloth that covered his mouth;
46978.84 he lowered his head: his clothes were stained with blood. Father Salví, pale, his gaze vacant, stood up
46986.04 with difficulty, signaled with his hand, and left the room with a hesitant step.
46991.184 In the street, he saw a young woman leaning with her back against the wall, rigid, motionless, listening attentively, staring into space,
47000.424 her clenched hands extended against the old wall. The sun bathed her fully. She counted, apparently without breathing, the dull, sharp blows
47010.584 and that heartbreaking moan. It was Társilo’s sister. Meanwhile, the scene continued in the room: the unfortunate man, exhausted
47018.824 by pain, fell silent and waited for his executioners to tire. Finally,
47024.224 the panting soldier dropped his arm, and the second lieutenant, pale with anger and astonishment, signaled for him to be untied.
47031.864 Doña Consolación then stood up and whispered a few words in her husband’s ear. He nodded his head in a sign of understanding.
47040.264 « Down with him! » he said. The Filipinos know what this means; in Tagalog they translate it
47046.224 as timbaín [154]. We do not know who invented it. This procedure, but we judge it must be quite ancient.
47054.424 Truth, emerging from a well, is perhaps its sarcastic interpretation.
47059.464 In the middle of the courthouse courtyard rises the picturesque curb of a well, crudely made of living stones. A rustic
47067.544 lever-shaped reed device is used to draw water, viscous, dirty, and
47073.264 foul-smelling. Personal rubbish, garbage, and other liquids were collected there,
47079.224 for that well was like a prison; it housed everything society discarded or deemed useless; anything that fell in, however good it may have
47087.824 been, was already lost. However, it was never blinded: sometimes
47093.584 prisoners were condemned to dig deeper and deeper, not because they thought they would gain any use from that punishment, but because of the difficulties
47102.504 the work presented: a prisoner who had descended there, once caught a fever from which he almost always died.
47108.688 Tarsilo watched all the soldiers’ preparations with a fixed gaze; he was very pale, and his lips trembled or murmured a
47117.528 prayer. The haughtiness of his despair seemed to have disappeared , or at least weakened. Several times he bent his erect neck
47126.528 and fixed his gaze on the ground, resigned to suffering. They took him to the side of the wellhead, followed by Doña Consolación, who
47134.728 was smiling. The unfortunate man cast an envious glance toward the pile of corpses, and a sigh escaped his chest.
47141.848 « Speak up! » the director repeated. « They’ll hang you anyway ; at least you’ll die without having suffered so much.
47149.928  » « You’ll come out of here to die, » a policeman told him. They removed the gag and hung him by his feet. He had to descend headfirst
47157.568 and remain underwater for some time, the same as they do with the bucket, only they give men more time.
47166.288 The ensign went away to look for a clock and count the minutes. Meanwhile, Társilo hung, his long hair waving in the air;
47175.608 his eyes were half closed. « If you are Christians, if you have a heart, » he murmured pleadingly
47181.928 , « bring me down quickly, or make my head hit the wall and die. God will reward you for this good deed… perhaps
47191.168 one day you will see yourselves like me!  » The ensign returned and presided over the descent, watch in hand.
47196.888 « Slowly, slowly! » shouted Doña Consolación, following the unfortunate man with her eyes; « careful! »
47203.088 The lever was lowered slowly, Társilo scraping against the protruding stones and the filthy plants growing between the
47209.688 cracks. Then the lever stopped moving: the ensign was counting
47215.088 the seconds. « Up! » he ordered curtly after half a minute. The silvery, harmonious sound of the drops of water falling on the
47224.648 water announced the prisoner’s return to the light. This time, since the weight of the seesaw was greater, it rose quickly.
47231.376 Rocks and pebbles, torn from the walls, fell with a crash. His forehead and hair covered in disgusting mud, his face covered in
47239.936 wounds and abrasions, his body wet and dripping, he appeared before the eyes
47245.856 of the silent crowd; the wind made him shiver with cold. « Do you want to testify? » they asked him.
47253.976 « Take care of my sister! » murmured the unfortunate man, looking pleadingly at a patrolman. The tiller creaked again, and the condemned man disappeared
47262.456 . Doña Consolación observed that the water remained calm. The second lieutenant counted a minute.
47268.856 When Társilo climbed back up, his features were drawn and bruised. He glanced at those present and kept
47277.736 his bloodshot eyes open. « Are you going to testify? » the second lieutenant asked again, dejectedly.
47284.456 Társilo shook his head, and they lowered him back down. Her eyelids were closing, her pupils still staring up at the sky where
47293.056 white clouds floated; she craned her neck to continue seeing the daylight, but soon she had to sink into the water, and that
47301.736 infamous curtain hid the spectacle of the world from her. A minute passed; the Muse, watching, saw thick air bubbles
47307.976 rising to the surface. « He’s thirsty! » she said, laughing.
47313.056 And the water became calm again. This time it lasted a minute and a half, and the second lieutenant made a sign.
47319.976 Társilo’s features were no longer contorted; his half-open eyelids revealed the white back of his eye; muddy water
47328.136 streaked with blood flowed from his mouth; the cold wind blew, but his body no longer shuddered.
47333.936 Everyone stared at each other in silence, pale and dismayed. The second lieutenant
47339.096 signaled for him to be taken down and walked away thoughtfully. Doña Consolación
47344.496 repeatedly touched the fire button of her cigar to his bare legs, but his body didn’t shudder, and the fire went out.
47352.576 « He’s suffocated himself! » murmured a guard. « Look how his tongue has turned as if trying to swallow it.
47360.136  » The other prisoner watched the scene, trembling and sweating; he looked everywhere like a madman.
47366.016 The ensign ordered the little director to interrogate him. “Sir, sir!” he groaned; “I’ll say whatever you want!
47374.616 ” “Well! Let’s see: what’s your name? ” “Andong [155], sir! ” “Bernardo… Leonardo… Ricardo… Eduardo… Gerardo… or what?
47382.456 ” “Andong, sir!” repeated the official. “Call him Bernardo or something,” decided the ensign.
47388.256 “A surname?” The man looked at him in horror. “What’s your name? What do they add to Andong?
47394.496 ” “Ah, sir! Andong! You’re half-witted, sir!” The bystanders couldn’t contain their laughter; the ensign himself
47401.616 stopped pacing. “Occupation?” “Coconut pruner, sir, and servant to my mother-in-law.
47406.776 ” “Who ordered you to attack the barracks?” “No one, sir! ” “How come no one?” Don’t lie, or they’ll throw you in the pit! Who
47415.336 sent you? Tell the truth! « The truth, sir!  » « Who?  » « Who, sir!
47420.696  » « I ask you, who sent you to make the revolution?  » « What revolution, sir?  » « That’s because you were in the barracks courtyard last night.
47429.096  » « Ah, sir! » Andong exclaimed, blushing. « Who, then, is to blame for that?
47435.096  » « My mother-in-law, sir! » A burst of laughter greeted these words. The ensign stopped and looked with
47441.272 mild eyes at the poor fellow, who, believing that his words had had a good effect, continued more cheerfully:
47448.912 « Yes, sir: my mother-in-law gives me nothing to eat but everything rotten and useless. Last night, when I came, my stomach hurt,
47457.832 I saw the barracks courtyard nearby, and I said to myself: It’s nighttime, no one
47463.872 will see you. » I entered… and as I stood up, many shots rang out; I
47468.912 was tying my breeches… A vine cut him off. « To jail! » ordered the ensign; « this afternoon to the Cabecera with him! »
47475.552 Chapter 61. THE DAMNED. The news that the prisoners were about
47482.552 to leave soon spread through the town; at first it was heard with terror, then came
47487.832 weeping and wailing. The families of the prisoners ran like mad: they went from the convent
47493.352 to the barracks, from the barracks to the tribunal, and finding no comfort anywhere, they filled the air with screams and groans. The priest
47500.792 had shut himself in because he was ill; the ensign had increased his guards, who met the women supplicants with their rifle butts;
47509.072 the little governor, a useless being, seemed more foolish and more useless than ever. In front of the jail, those who still had strength ran from one end to the other
47517.632 ; Those who did not, sat on the ground, calling out
47522.912 the names of their loved ones. The sun was blazing, and none of those unfortunate women thought of retiring. Doray,
47530.312 the joyful and happy wife of Don Filipo, wandered about helplessly, carrying her tender son in her arms; both were crying.
47538.032 « Go back, » they told her; « your son is going to catch a fever.  » « Why live if he doesn’t have a father to raise him? » replied
47547.152 the disconsolate woman. « Your husband is innocent; perhaps he will return!
47552.888  » « Yes, when we will be dead! » Captain Tinay cried and called her son Antonio; the valiant Captain
47561.088 María looked toward the small gate, behind which were her two children. Twins, his only children.
47567.008 There was the coconut pruner’s mother-in-law; she didn’t cry: she walked around,
47572.928 gesticulated with her sleeves rolled up, and harangued the crowd. « Have you ever seen anything like this? Arresting my Andong, shooting him,
47580.248 putting him in the stocks, and taking him to the head of the bed, just because… because he had new pants? This calls for revenge! The Civil Guards
47589.328 are abusive! I swear, if I ever find any of them looking for
47594.568 a secluded spot in my garden again, as has often happened, I’ll mutilate him, I’ll mutilate him! Or else… let them mutilate me! »
47601.448 But few people joined in the chorus with the Muslim mother-in-law. « Don Crisóstomo is to blame for all this, » a woman sighed.
47608.808 The schoolteacher also wandered confusedly among the crowd; Ñor Juan no longer rubs his hands, he no longer carries his plumb line or his meter stick:
47618.248 the man dresses like a black person, for he has heard bad news, and true to his habit of seeing the future as something that has already happened, he is already mourning
47627.168 the death of Ibarra. At two in the afternoon, an open cart, pulled by two oxen,
47632.528 stopped in front of the tribunal. The cart was surrounded by the crowd, who wanted to unhitch it
47638.008 and destroy it. « Don’t do that, » said Captain María; « do you want them to go on foot? »
47644.368 This stopped the families. Twenty soldiers got out and surrounded the vehicle. Then the prisoners appeared.
47652.048 The first was Don Filipo, tied up; he greeted his wife smilingly; Doray burst into bitter tears, and two guards had a hard time keeping her from
47661.608 embracing her husband. Antonio, Captain Tinay’s son, appeared crying like a child, which only increased the cries of his
47670.288 family. The officer Andong burst into tears upon seeing his mother-in-law, the cause of his misfortune. Albino, the ex-seminarian, was also
47681.064 tied up, as were Captain Maria’s twins. These three
47686.384 young men were serious and grave. The last to leave was Ibarra, free, but led between two Civil Guards. The young man was
47695.064 pale; he looked for a friendly face. « That’s the one who’s to blame! » shouted many voices. « That’s the one who’s
47702.624 to blame, and he’s free!  » « My son-in-law hasn’t done anything, and he’s in handcuffs! » Ibarra turned to his guards.
47709.104 « Tie me up, but tie me up tight, elbow to elbow! » he said. « We have no order!
47714.384  » « Tie me up! » The soldiers obeyed. The second lieutenant appeared on horseback, armed to the teeth; he was followed by
47721.464 ten or fifteen other soldiers. Each prisoner had his family there, praying for him, crying for him
47728.104 , and calling him the most affectionate names. Ibarra was the only one who had no one; Ñor Juan himself and the schoolteacher had disappeared.
47735.984 « What have they done to you, my husband and my son? » Doray wept. « Look at my poor son! You’ve deprived him of his father!
47744.464  » « You’re a coward! » Andong’s mother-in-law shouted at him. « While the others were fighting for you, you hid, coward!
47751.224  » « Cursed you! » said an old man following him. « Cursed be the gold your family amassed to disturb our peace! Cursed! Cursed!
47760.064  » « Hang you, heretic! » shouted a relative of Albino’s. Unable to contain herself, she picked up a stone and threw it at him.
47767.544 Her example was soon imitated, and a shower of dust and stones fell upon the unfortunate young man .
47773.304 Ibarra suffered impassively, without anger, without complaint, the just revenge of so many wounded hearts. That was the farewell, the goodbye
47782.344 from his people, where he had all his loves. He lowered his head; perhaps he thought of a man, whipped through the streets of Manila,
47791.528 of an old woman falling dead at the sight of her son’s head; perhaps the story of Elías passed before his eyes.
47800.328 The ensign thought it necessary to remove the crowd, but the stone-throwing and insults continued. Only one mother did not avenge her
47808.848 pain on him: Captain María. Motionless, with pursed lips, her eyes filled with silent tears, she watched her two sons walk away; her
47819.088 immobility and her silent pain were greater than those of the fabled Niobe. The procession moved away.
47824.408 Of the people peering through the rare open windows, those who showed the most compassion for the young man were the indifferent or
47832.528 the curious. All his friends had hidden, yes, even Captain Basilio himself, who forbade his daughter Sinang from crying.
47841.408 Ibarra saw the smoking ruins of his house, his parents’ house, where he had been born, where the sweetest memories of
47849.608 his childhood and adolescence lived. Tears, long suppressed,
47855.688 sprang from his eyes. He bowed his head and wept, without the consolation of being able to hide his tears, tied up as he was, or that his pain
47865.168 would inspire compassion in anyone. Now he had no country, no home, no love, no friends, no future!
47872.168 From high above, a man contemplated the funereal convoy. He was an old man, pale, gaunt, wrapped in a wool blanket,
47882.248 leaning wearily on a cane. It was the old philosopher Tasio, who, upon hearing the news of the event, wanted to leave his bed and go to the hospital, but his
47890.608 strength wouldn’t allow it. The old man followed the cart with his eyes until it disappeared in the distance. He remained thoughtful
47899.168 and dejected for some time, then got up and, with difficulty, made his way
47904.368 home, resting at every step. The next day, the shepherds found him dead on the
47910.464 very threshold of his solitary retreat. Chapter 62. COUNTRY AND INTERESTS.
47916.584 The telegraph secretly transmitted the event to Manila, and thirty -six hours later , the newspapers, augmented, corrected, and mutilated
47924.224 by the prosecutor, were reporting it with great mystery and no
47929.464 small number of threats . Meanwhile, private news emanating from
47934.624 the convents was the first to spread by word of mouth, in secret, and to the great terror of those who came to know. The event,
47943.304 distorted in a thousand versions, was believed with more or less ease depending on
47948.864 whether it flattered or contradicted the passions and way of thinking of each individual. Without disturbing the public tranquility, at least
47956.344 apparently, the peace of the home was disturbed, as in a pond: while the surface appears smooth and terse, deep
47964.624 down the silent fish swarm, run, and chase each other. Crosses, decorations, stripes, jobs, prestige, power, importance,
47975.064 dignities, etc., began to flutter like butterflies in an atmosphere of gold coins, before the eyes of one part of the
47983.104 population. For the other, a dark cloud rose on the horizon, standing out from its ashen background like black silhouettes, bars,
47992.104 chains, and even the fateful gallows pole. One thought one could hear in the air
47997.344 the interrogations, the sentences, the screams of torture; The Marianas and Bagumbayan were presented wrapped in
48005.544 a ragged and bloody veil: fishermen and fish were confused. Fate presented the event to the imagination of the Manilans
48013.704 like certain Chinese fans: one side painted with a black person; the other
48019.024 filled with gold, bright colors, birds, and flowers. The greatest excitement reigned in the convents. Carriages were being hitched,
48026.744 provincials visited each other, and held secret conferences. They appeared at the palaces to offer their support to the government, which was in grave
48034.888 danger. There was renewed talk of comets, allusions, pinpricks, etc.
48041.728 « A Te Deum, a Te Deum! » said a friar in a convent; « this time let no one be missing from the choir! It is no small kindness of God to show us
48049.888 now, precisely in such lost times, how much we are worth!  » « With this little lesson, General Mal Agüero [156] must be biting his lips
48057.328 , » replied another. –What would have become of him without the corporations?
48063.648 –And to better celebrate the feast, let them warn the brother cook and the procurator… Gaudeamus for three days!
48070.248 –Amen!–Amen–Long live Salví!–Long live! In another convent they spoke differently.
48076.288 –You see? That’s a student of the Jesuits; the filibusters come from the Athenaeum!–said a friar.
48083.408 –And the anti-religious ones. –I already said it: the Jesuits lose the country, they corrupt the youth;
48090.048 but they are tolerated because they make a few blots on the paper when there is an earthquake…
48095.888 « And God knows how they are made!  » « Yes, go and contradict them! When everything trembles and moves,
48101.648 who writes scribbles? Nothing, Father Secchi… » And they smile with sovereign contempt.
48106.808 « But what about the storms? And the baguios [157]? » another asks with
48112.648 sarcastic irony; « isn’t that divine?  » « Any fisherman can predict them! » « When the one in power is a fool… tell me what your head is like and
48120.968 I’ll tell you what your father is like! But you will see if friends favor one another: the newspapers are almost asking for a mitre for Father Salví.
48130.488  » « And he’s going to have it! He sucks! » « Do you believe it?  » « Well, no! Today they’ll give it for anything. I know of one who
48138.128 got it for less; wrote a vulgar little work, showed that the indigenous people
48144.368 were incapable of anything other than being artisans… psh! Old
48149.544 vulgarities! « It’s true! So many injustices damage religion! » exclaimed
48156.584 another; « if mitres had eyes and could see on what skulls…
48161.784  » « If mitres were objects of nature… » added another in a nasal voice. « Natura abhorret vacuum… »
48169.024 « That’s why they cling to them; the void attracts them! » replied another. These and other things were said in the convents, and we amuse
48178.424 our readers with other comments with political, metaphysical, or spicy overtones. Let us take the reader to the house of a private individual,
48188.184 and since we have few acquaintances in Manila, we go to the house of Captain Tinong, the entertaining man, whom we saw insistently inviting
48197.304 Ibarra to honor him with a visit. In the rich and spacious living room of his house in Tondo, Captain Tinong
48205.104 sat in a wide armchair, rubbing his hands over his forehead and the back of his neck
48210.584 in a gesture of disconsolation, while his wife, Captain Tinchang, wept and lectured him in front of her two daughters, who listened from a
48219.624 corner, mute, stunned, and moved. “Oh, Virgin of Antipolo!” cried the woman. “Oh, Virgin of the Rosary
48227.784 and the Belt! Oh! Oh! Our Lady of Novaliches! ” “Nanay!” replied the youngest of the daughters.
48233.984 “I told you so!” continued the woman in a tone of reproach; “ I told you so! Oh, Virgin of Carmen, oh!”
48242.464 “But you haven’t told me anything!” Captain Tinong dared to reply tearfully. “On the contrary, you were telling me that I was right to visit
48252.064 the house and to maintain Captain Tiago’s friendship because… because he was rich… and you told me…
48258.816 ” “What? What did I tell you? I didn’t tell you that, I didn’t tell you anything! Oh, if only you had listened to me!
48265.096 ” “Now you’re blaming me!” he retorted in a bitter tone, slapping the arm of the chair. “Didn’t you tell me that I was right
48273.896 to invite him to dine with us, because since he was rich… you said that we should only be friends with rich people? Abá!
48282.536 ” “It’s true that I told you that because… because there was no other way out: all you did was praise him; Don Ibarra here, Don Ibarra there, Don
48291.336 Ibarra everywhere, abaá!” But I didn’t advise you to see him or speak to him at that meeting; you can’t deny that.
48298.776 « Did I know he was going there, by any chance?  » « Well, you should have known!
48304.016  » « How, I didn’t even know him?  » « Well, you should have known him!  » « But, Tinchang, it was the first time I’d seen him, heard
48312.536 of him!
 » « Well, you should have seen him before, heard of him!
48317.696 You’re a man, you wear trousers and read El Diario de Manila! »
48322.776 his wife replied imperturbably, giving him a terrible look. Captain Tinong didn’t know what to reply.
48329.056 Captain Tinchang, not content with this victory, wanted to annihilate him, and approaching with her fists clenched:
48336.616 « Is this what I have been working for years and years, saving, so that you with your clumsiness spoil the fruit of my labors? » she
48344.976 rebuked him. « Now they will come to take you into exile, they will strip us of our possessions, like the wife of… Oh, if I were a man…! »
48353.536 And seeing that her husband lowered his head, she began to sob again, but still repeating:
48360.016 « Oh, if I were a man, if I were a man!  » « And if you were a man, » her husband finally asked, stung, « what
48366.696 would you do?  » « What? Well… well… well, today I would present myself to the Captain General, to offer to fight against the rebels, right now!
48375.648  » « But haven’t you read what the Diary says? Read! The infamous and bastard treason has been repressed with energy, force, and vigor, and soon
48384.408 the rebel enemies of the country and their accomplices will feel the full weight and severity of the laws… you see? There is no uprising anymore.
48392.768  » « It doesn’t matter, you must present yourself as they did in ’72, and they have been saved.
48397.928  » « Yes! So has Father Burg… » But he couldn’t finish the word; the woman running over his mouth.
48405.488 « Go on! » « Pronounce that name and you’ll be hanged tomorrow at Bagumbayan! Don’t you know that it’s enough to pronounce it and you’ll be sentenced
48413.968 without trial? Pull it! Say it! » Captain Tinong, even if he had wanted to obey her, he couldn’t
48421.528 have: his wife was covering his mouth with both hands, pressing his
48426.808 little head against the back of the chair, and the poor man might have suffocated to death if a new person hadn’t intervened.
48434.928 This was his cousin Don Primitivo, who knew Amat by heart, a man of about forty, neatly dressed, pot-bellied, and
48443.688 somewhat plump. « Quid video? » he exclaimed upon entering; « what’s the matter? Quare? » [158]
48451.688 « Oh, cousin! » said the woman, running tearfully toward him; « I sent for you, for I don’t know what will become of us… what do you
48458.928 advise us? Speak, you who have studied Latin and know arguments…  » « But first, quid quaeritis? » Nihil est in intellectu quod prius non
48467.608 fuerit in sensu; nihil volitum quin praecognitum [159].
48473.088 And he sat down slowly. As if Latin phrases had possessed a calming power, both spouses stopped crying and
48481.728 approached him, awaiting his advice, like the Greeks once upon a time before the saving phrase of the oracle that was to free them from
48489.648 the invading Persians. « Why are you crying? Ubinam gentium sumus? » [160]
48495.416 « You already know the news of the uprising… » « Alzamentum Ibarrae ab alferesio Guardiae civilis destructum? Et
48502.136 nunc? » [161] « And what? Does Don Crisóstomo owe you something? »
48508.176 « No, but you know, Tinong invited him to dinner, greeted him at the Puente de España… in broad daylight! They’re going to say he’s
48516.456 a friend of his! » « Friend? » exclaimed the Latin, surprised, rising; « amice, amicus
48522.696 Plato sed magis amica veritas! Tell me who you keep company with, and I’ll tell you who you are! Malum est negotium et est timendum rerum istarum horrendissimum
48532.456 resultatum! Hmmm! » [162] Captain Tinong turned frightfully pale at hearing so many words
48540.216 in Um; this sound boded ill for him. His wife clasped her hands in supplication and said:
48546.536 « Cousin, don’t speak to us in Latin now; you know we are not philosophers
48551.856 like yourself; speak to us in Tagalog or Spanish, but give us some advice.  » « It’s a pity you don’t understand Latin, cousin: Latin truths are
48561.656 Tagalog lies, for example, contra principia negantem fustibus est argüendum, [163] in Latin it is a truth like Noah’s Ark; I once put it
48572.336 into practice in Tagalog, and I was the one who got beaten. For this reason, it is a pity that you do not know Latin; in Latin everything could be fixed.
48580.696 “We also know many oremus, parcenobis, and Agnus Dei Catolis [164] but now we would not understand each other. Give Tinong an argument so
48590.536 that he will not be hanged! ” “You have done wrong, very wrong, cousin, to befriend that young man!” replied the Latin. “The righteous pay for the sinners;
48599.776 I almost advised you to make your will… Vae illis! Ubi est ignis! Similis simili gaudet; atqui Ibarra ahorcatur, ergo ahorcaberis
48610.736 [165]…” And he shook his head from side to side, disgusted.
48616.056 “Saturnino, what is the matter with you!” cried Captain Tinchang, filled with terror; “Oh, my God! He is dead!” A doctor! Tinong, Tinongoy!
48625.376 The two daughters rushed up, and all three began to lament. “It’s only a faint, cousin, a faint! I
48633.296 would have been happier if… if… but unfortunately it’s only
48638.456 a faint. Non timeo mortem in catre sed super espaldonem Bagumbayanis.” [166] “Bring me some water!
48646.376 ” “Don’t die!” the woman wept. “Don’t die, or they’ll come and arrest you! Oh, if you die and the soldiers come, oh! oh!”
48655.536 The cousin sprinkled water on his face, and the poor man came to. “Come on, don’t cry! Inveni remedium, I found the
48663.056 remedy. Let’s carry him back to his bed; come on! Courage!” that I am here with you and all the wisdom of the ancients… Let them call a
48672.176 doctor; and right now, cousin, go to the Captain-General and take him a gift, a gold chain, a ring… Dadivae quebrant peñas;
48682.056 you say it is an Easter gift. Close the windows, the doors, and tell anyone who asks for my cousin that he is seriously
48690.016 ill. In the meantime, I am burning all the letters, papers, and books so that they cannot find anything, as Don Crisóstomo has done. Scripti
48698.016 testes sunt! Quod medicamenta non sanant, ferrum sanat, quod ferrum
48703.936 non sanat, ignis sanat [167]. “Yes, take it, cousin; burn everything!” said Captain Tinchang; “here are
48713.776 the keys, here are Captain Tiago’s letters, burn them! Let there not be a single newspaper from Europe left, for they are very dangerous. Here are these
48721.696 The Times that I kept to wrap soap and clothes. Here are the books.” « Go to the Captain General, cousin, » said Don Primitivo; « leave me alone. In
48730.976 extremis extrema [168]. Give me the power of a Roman director and you will see
48736.576 how I can save the pat… I mean, the cousin. » And he began to give orders and more orders, to rummage through shelves, tear up
48744.488 papers, books, letters, etc. Soon a fire was burning in the kitchen; old shotguns were split with axes;
48754.088 rusty revolvers were thrown into the toilet; the maid who wanted to keep the barrel of one for a blower, received a snippet.
48760.968 « Conservare etiam sperasti, perfida? » [169] Into the fire!
48766.808 And he continued his auto-da-fé. He saw an old parchment volume and read the title: « Revolutions of the Celestial Globes by Copernicus, pfui! » « Hide,
48775.928 curses, in ignem kalanis [170], « he exclaimed, throwing it into the
48781.448 flames. « Revolutions and Copernicus! Crime upon crime! If I don’t arrive in
48786.888 time… Freedom in the Philippines. Ta-da-ta! What books! To the fire! » And innocent books, written by simple authors, were burned. Not
48796.528 even Captain Juan, a candid little work, managed to escape. Primo Primitivo was right: the just pay for the sinners.
48804.928 Four or five hours later, at a pretentious gathering in Intramuros, the events of the day were being discussed. There were many
48812.808 old women and marriageable spinsters, wives or daughters of employees, dressed in gowns, fanning themselves and yawning. Among the men, who, like
48822.528 the women, betrayed their education and origins in their features, there was a small, one-armed, elderly gentleman whom they treated with great
48831.888 consideration and who maintained a disdainful silence toward the others . « The truth is that before I couldn’t stand the friars and
48839.408 civil guards because of their poor manners, » said a stout woman; « but now that I see their usefulness and services, I would almost gladly marry
48847.128 any of them. I am a patriot.  » « I say the same! » added a thin woman; « what a pity we don’t have
48853.208 the previous governor: he would have left the country squeaky clean!  » « And there would be no more of those filibusters!
48860.688  » « Don’t they say there are many islands left to populate? Why don’t they deport so many crazy indigenous people there? If I were the Captain General…
48869.048  » « Ladies, » said the one-armed man, « the Captain General knows his duty; According to what I’ve
48874.528 heard, he’s very irritated, because they had showered favors on that Ibarra. « Showered with favors! » repeated the skinny woman, fanning herself furiously. « Look
48884.448 how ungrateful these indigenous people are! Can they even be treated like people? Jesus!
48891.288  » « And do you know what I heard? » asked a soldier. « Let’s see! » « What is it? What are they saying? » « Reliable people, » said the one-armed man amidst the utmost
48899.528 silence, « assure that all that talk of building a school was pure fiction.
48905.968  » « Jesus! Have you seen it? » they exclaimed, now believing the story. « The school was a pretext; what he wanted to build was a fort,
48915.048 from which he could properly defend himself when we come to attack him…  » « Jesus! What infamy! Only an indigenous person is capable of such cowardly
48923.608 thoughts, » exclaimed the fat woman. « If I were the Captain General,
48929.928 you would see… you would see…  » « I say the same! » exclaimed the skinny woman, addressing the one-armed man. « He would arrest
48936.768 every lawyer, clergyman, merchant, and anyone without a formal trial, whether
48941.808 they were in exile or under a registry order! He would uproot evil! » « Well, they say that filibuster is the son of Spaniards! »
48950.448 the one-armed man observed without looking at anyone. « Oh, right! » the fat woman exclaimed, imperturbably. « It was always going to be the
48956.768 personae! No indigenous person understands revolution! He’s raising crows… he’s raising
48962.088 crows! » « Do you know what I heard? » asked a Creole woman, thus
48967.528 interrupting the conversation. « Captain Tinong’s wife… do you remember ? The one in whose house we danced and dined at the Tondo festival…
48977.264  » « The one who has two daughters? So what?  » « Well, this afternoon the wife gave the Captain-General a
48984.544 ring worth a thousand pesos!  » The one-armed man turned around. « Really? And why? » he asked, his eyes shining.
48991.784 « The woman was saying, as an Easter present…  » « Easter won’t come for a month! » « She’s probably afraid a downpour might hit her… » the fat woman observes.
49000.744 « And she takes cover, » adds the skinny woman. « Unclaimed satisfaction, confessed guilt!
49006.704  » « That’s what I was thinking; you’ve hit the nail on the head.  » « It’s worth looking into, » the one-armed man observes thoughtfully; « I’m afraid
49015.184 there’s something fishy about it.  » « Some fishy fish, that’s what I was going to say, » the skinny woman repeats.
49021.864 « And I, » says another woman, snatching the word away from him; « Captain Tinong’s wife is very stingy… she hasn’t sent us a single present yet, and
49028.944 we’ve been to her house. So when a tight-fisted, greedy woman lets out a little gift worth a thousand pesos…
49035.384  » « But is that true? » asked the one-armed man. « Yes! And so true! » My cousin’s boyfriend, His Excellency’s assistant, told me,
49043.504 and I’m almost convinced it’s the same ring
49048.984 the eldest was wearing on the day of the party. She’s always covered in diamonds! « A walking window display!
49055.384  » « A way of making a show like no other! Instead of buying a fashion model or paying a store…
49062.144  » The one-armed man left the gathering, giving an excuse. And two hours later, when everyone was already asleep ,
49069.664 several residents of Tondo received an invitation through soldiers… The authorities could not allow certain people of position and property
49078.624 to sleep in such poorly guarded and poorly refreshed houses: in the Fuerza de Santiago and other government buildings, sleep would be
49088.024 more peaceful and restful. Among these favored people was the unfortunate Captain Tinong.
49095.208 Chapter 63. MARIA CLARA GETS MARRIED. Captain Tiago is very happy. Throughout this terrible season,
49104.008 no one has taken any notice of him: they have not arrested him, they have not subjected him to isolation, interrogations, electric machines,
49112.408 continuous footbaths in underground rooms, and other such mischiefs, which are well known to certain personages who call themselves
49120.888 civilized. His friends, that is to say, those who were his (because the man
49126.088 already disowned his Filipino friends, from the moment they became suspects to the government) have also returned to their homes, after
49135.088 a few days of vacation in the State buildings. The Captain General himself had ordered that they be evicted from their possessions,
49142.688 not judging them worthy enough to remain there, much to the displeasure of the one-armed man, who wanted to celebrate the next Easter
49152.248 in his abundant and wealthy company. Captain Tinong returned home sick, pale, swollen,
49158.728 The excursion had not been good for him, and he was so changed that he did not say a word, nor greet his family, who cried, laughed, talked, and went
49166.648 mad with joy. The poor man no longer left the house so as not to run the risk of greeting a filibuster. Cousin Primitivo himself,
49174.208 with all the wisdom of the ancients, could not bring him out of his silence. « Crede, prime, » he would say to him: « if I don’t burn all your papers,
49182.568 they’ll have your throat cut; but if I burn the whole house, they won’t even touch your hair. Pero quod eventum, eventum; Gratias agamus Domino Deo quia non
49193.608 in Marianis Insulis es, camotes seminando [171]. Captain Tiago was not unaware of stories similar to those of Captain Tinong
49203.368 . The man was overflowing with gratitude, without knowing exactly to whom he owed such notable favors.
49209.648 Aunt Isabel attributed the miracle to the Virgin of Antipolo, to the Virgin of the Rosary, or at least to the Virgin
49217.648 of Carmen, and at the very least, at the very least, the least she can concede, to Our Lady of Correa: according to her, the miracle
49226.848 could not have escaped from there. Captain Tiago did not deny the miracle, but added: « I believe it, Isabel, but the Virgin of Antipolo couldn’t have done it alone;
49236.808 my friends must have helped, my future son-in-law, Mr. Linares, who,
49241.888 you know, is making fun of Mr. Antonio Cánovas himself, the one whose portrait the illustration brings us, the one who doesn’t deign to show people
49250.648 more than half his face. » And the good man couldn’t repress a smile of satisfaction every
49255.848 time he heard important news about the events. And no wonder. It was whispered that Ibarra would be hanged;
49264.408 that although much evidence was needed to convict him, recently one had appeared that confirmed the accusation; that the experts had
49273.328 declared that, in effect, the school works could pass for a bastion, a fortification, although somewhat defective, as
49282.288 could only be expected from ignorant indigenous people. These rumors reassured him and made him smile.
49289.288 Just as Captain Tiago and his cousin differed in their opinions, the family friends were also divided into two
49296.568 parties: one for miracles and the other for the government, although the latter was insignificant. The miracle workers were subdivided: the
49307.168 chief sacristan of Binondo, the candle seller, and the head of a brotherhood saw the hand of God, moved by the Virgin of the Rosary; the Chinese
49317.848 candle maker—his supplier when he goes to Antipolo—said, fanning himself and waving his leg:
49324.568 “No siya osti gongong; Miligen li Antipolo esi! Esi pueli más con
49329.968 tolo; no siya osti gongong [172]. Captain Tiago held the Chinese person, who passed himself off as
49338.464 a prophet, doctor, etc., in high esteem. Examining the palm of his deceased wife’s hand in the sixth month of pregnancy, he had predicted:
49348.384 « If this man does not love her and make a pact, she will be a real mess! » [173]
49354.344 And Maria Ciara came into the world to fulfill the infidel’s prophecy. Captain Tiago, being a prudent and fearful man, could not make up his mind as
49362.864 easily as the Trojan Paris; he could not give preference
49368.664 to one of the two Virgins for fear of offending the other, which could have serious consequences. « Prudence! » he said to himself
49378.304 ; « let us not spoil it now. » He was in these doubts when the government party arrived:
49385.944 Doña Victorina, Don Tiburcio, and Linares. Doña Victorina spoke for the three men and for herself, mentioned
49393.384 Linares’s visits to the Captain General, and repeatedly hinted at the suitability of a high-ranking relative.
49400.384 « No! » she concluded, « as usual: he who shelters himself in a good shadow, gives himself a good beating.
49405.904  » « A… a… the other way around, woman! » the doctor corrected her. For days she’s been trying to become Andalusian by eliminating the « d » and replacing the  »
49413.784 z » with an « s, » and this idea couldn’t be erased from her head; first she let her false curls be pulled out.
49421.704 « Yes! » she added, speaking of Ibarra; « he deserved it; I already knew it when I saw him the first time: he’s a filibuster. What did
49430.824 the general say to you, cousin? What did you say to him, what news did you give him, Ibarra? »
49436.104 And seeing that her cousin was taking a long time to answer, she continued, addressing Captain Tiago:
49441.264 « Believe me, if they condemn him to death, as long as they wait, it will be for
49446.944 my cousin.  » « Madam! Ma’am! » Linares protested. But she didn’t give him time.
49453.424 « Oh, how diplomatic you are! We know you’re the
49459.304 general’s advisor, who can’t live without you… Ah, Clarita, what a pleasure to see you! »
49464.688 María Clara still appeared pale, although already quite recovered from her illness. Her long hair was tied back with a light blue silk ribbon
49473.008 . She bowed timidly, smiling sadly, and
49478.128 approached Doña Victorina for the ceremonial kiss. After the customary phrases, the pseudo-Andalusian continued:
49485.568 « We’re coming to visit you; You have been saved thanks to your relationship! – and she looked meaningfully at Linares.
49494.528 « God has protected my father! » the young woman replied in a low voice. « Yes, Clarita, but time and miracles have passed: we
49504.048 Spaniards say: Distrust the Virgin and run.  » « A… a… the other way around! »
49510.968 Captain Tiago, who until then had not found time to speak, dared to ask, paying close attention to
49519.008 the answer: « So you, Doña Victorina, believe that the Virgin? » « We have come precisely to speak with you and the Virgin, »
49527.768 she replied mysteriously, pointing to María Clara; « we have to discuss business. »
49533.288 The young woman understood that she had to withdraw; she looked for an excuse and moved away,
49538.488 leaning against the furniture. What was said and discussed at this conference is so base and
49544.048 petty that we prefer not to recount it. Suffice it to say that when they said goodbye, everyone was cheerful, and then Captain Tiago said
49553.968 to Aunt Isabel: « Tell the inn that we’re having a party tomorrow! Go get
49560.408 Maria ready, we’ll be getting her married soon.  » Aunt Isabel looked at her in horror. « You’ll see! When Señor Linares becomes our son-in-law, we’ll be going up
49569.272 and down all the palaces; they’ll be jealous, they’ll all die
49574.712 of envy! » And so it was that at eight o’clock the following evening,
49579.872 Captain Tiago’s house was full again, only now his guests are exclusively Spanish and Chinese women; the fairer sex is represented by
49590.592 Spanish, Spanish, and Filipino women. Most of our acquaintances are there: Father Sibyla,
49598.472 Father Salví, among several Franciscans and Dominicans; the old lieutenant of the Civil Guard, Señor Guevara, more somber than before; the second lieutenant
49607.832 recounting his battle for the thousandth time, looking down on everyone, believing himself to be a Don Juan of Austria; now he is a lieutenant
49617.032 with the rank of major; de Espadaña, who looks at him with respect and fear and avoids his glances; and Doña Victorina, scorned. Linares had not
49625.752 yet arrived, since, as an important personage, he ought to arrive later than the others: there are people so naive that being an hour late in
49633.792 everything makes great men fall short. In the group of women, María Clara was the object of gossip:
49640.072 the young woman had greeted and received them ceremoniously, without losing her air of sadness.
49645.672 « Pst! » said one young woman; « proud…  » « Pretty, » replied another; « but he could have chosen someone
49652.792 who looked less foolish.  » « Gold, girl; handsome men sell. »
49658.912 Elsewhere it was said: « Getting married when the first groom is about to be hanged! » « That’s what I call being prudent: having a replacement on hand.
49667.392  » « Well, when I’m widowed… » The young woman, who was sitting in a chair arranging a tray of flowers, perhaps overheard these conversations
49673.592 , because she could be seen trembling, turning pale, and biting her lip several times.
49680.12 In the circle of men, the conversation was loud,
49685.2 and naturally, it revolved around recent events. Everyone was talking, even Don Tiburcio; everyone except Father Sibyla, who maintained
49693.56 a disdainful silence. « I’ve heard that your reverence is leaving the town, Father. » « Salví, » asks the new lieutenant, whom his
49703.84 new star has made more lovable. « I have nothing more to do there; I must settle forever in Manila… and you?
49710.08  » « I’m leaving the town too, » he answered, stretching out; « the government needs me to use a flying column to disinfect the provinces
49718.08 of filibusters. » Fray Sibyla quickly looks him over from head to toe and turns his
49724.32 back on him completely. « Is it known for sure what will become of the leader, the little filibuster? » asked an employee.
49731.28 « Are you talking about Crisóstomo Ibarra? » asks another. « The most likely and most just thing is that he will be hanged like those of ’72.
49738.76  » « He’s going to be exiled! » says the old lieutenant dryly. « Exiled! Nothing more than banished! But it will be a
49746.8 perpetual exile! » exclaim several at once. « If that young man, » Lieutenant Guevara continued in a loud and
49752.92 severe voice, « had been more cautious; if he had trusted less in certain people with whom he corresponds; if our prosecutors had not
49761.08 known how to interpret what was written too subtly, that young man would surely have been acquitted. »
49768.0 This statement from the old lieutenant and the tone of his voice produced great surprise in the audience, who did not know what to say. Father
49775.88 Salví looked away, perhaps to avoid seeing the somber look the old man was giving him. María Clara dropped the flowers and remained
49785.04 motionless. Father Sibyla, who knew how to keep silent, also seemed to be the only one who knew how to ask questions.
49790.112 « Are you talking about letters, Mr. Guevara? » « I’m talking about what the defense attorney told me, who has taken up the case with zeal
49796.792 and interest. » Aside from a few ambiguous lines that this young man wrote to a woman before leaving for Europe, lines in which the prosecutor saw
49805.632 a project and a threat against the government, and which he recognized as his own, there was no basis for accusing him.
49813.192 « And the bandit’s statement before his death?  » The defense attorney quashed it, since, according to the bandit himself, they
49821.472 had never communicated with the young man, but only with a certain Lucas, who was, as could be verified, an enemy of his, and who had perhaps committed suicide
49829.552 out of remorse. It was proven that the papers found in the possession of the corpse were forged, since the handwriting was the same as
49838.072 Mr. Ibarra’s seven years ago, but not the current one, which leads one to suppose that this accusatory letter is the model. Furthermore, the defense attorney
49847.032 said that if Mr. Ibarra had not wanted to acknowledge the letter, much could have been done for him; but at the sight of it, he turned pale,
49855.352 lost heart, and confirmed everything he had written in it. « You said, » asked a Franciscan, « that the letter was addressed to
49862.512 a woman; how did it get into the hands of the prosecutor?  » The lieutenant didn’t reply; he looked at Father Salví for a moment and walked away,
49870.192 nervously twisting the sharp tip of his gray beard, while the others commented.
49876.512 « There you see the hand of God! » said one; « even women hate him. »
49882.392 « He had his house burned down, thinking he would save himself, but he didn’t count on the hostess, that is, his mistress, his babai, » added another,
49891.072 laughing. « It’s God’s doing! Santiago closes Spain! » Meanwhile, the old soldier stopped in one of his strolls and approached
49900.272 María Clara, who sat motionless in her seat and listened to the conversation; the flowers could be seen at her feet.
49906.68 « You are a very cautious young woman, » the old lieutenant told her in a low voice; « you did well to deliver the letter… that way you will ensure
49914.48 a peaceful future. » She watched him walk away and shuddered, biting her
49919.52 lip. Fortunately, Aunt Isabel passed by. María Clara was strong enough to grab her by the dress.
49926.32 « Aunt! » she murmured. « What’s wrong? » she asked, terrified, seeing the young woman’s face. « Take me to my room! » she begged, hanging on to the old woman’s arm
49935.04 to get up. « Are you sick, my child? What’s wrong? » « I’m feeling dizzy… the people in the living room… so much light… I need
49942.76 to rest. Tell my father I’ll sleep. » « You’re cold! Do you want tea? » María Clara shook her head, locked the door
49951.4 to her bedroom, and, limply, sank to the floor at the foot of a statue, sobbing:
49958.72 « Mother, mother, my mother! » Moonlight streamed in through the window and the door leading to the rooftop . The music continued to play cheerful waltzes;
49964.04 laughter and the murmur of conversation reached the bedroom . Several times
49973.56 her father, Aunt Isabel, Doña Victorina, and even Linares knocked on the door, but María Clara didn’t move: a gasp escaped from her chest.
49983.0 Hours passed; the merriment of the table ended; dancing and singing could be heard ; the candle burned out and went out, but the young woman remained
49993.52 motionless on the floor, illuminated by the moonbeams, at the foot of the statue of the Mother of Jesus.
49999.56 The house gradually fell silent again, the lights went out, and Aunt Isabel knocked again at the door.
50007.36 « Come on, he’s asleep! » her aunt said loudly. « Because he’s young and
50012.4 careless, he sleeps like a corpse. » When all was silent, she slowly got up and
50019.528 looked around. She saw the rooftop, the small arbors, bathed in the melancholy moonlight.
50026.808 « A peaceful future! Sleeping like a corpse! » she murmured in a low voice and went to the rooftop.
50034.608 The city was asleep; only the occasional sound of a carriage could be heard passing the wooden bridge over the river, whose solitary
50043.688 waters calmly reflected the moonlight. The young woman raised her eyes to the sapphire-clear sky; she
50050.328 slowly removed her rings, earrings, needles, and comb, placing them on the roof parapet and looking toward the river.
50058.408 A bench laden with grass stopped at the foot of the landing stage, which every house has on the riverbank. One of the two men
50066.288 on it climbed the stone steps, jumped over the wall, and seconds
50071.528 later, his footsteps could be heard ascending the stairs to the roof. María Clara saw him stop when he discovered her, but it was only for a moment,
50079.408 because the man advanced slowly, and stopped three steps from the young woman . María Clara stepped back.
50085.888 « Crisóstomo! » she murmured, filled with terror. « Yes, I am Crisóstomo! » the young man replied in a deep voice. « An enemy,
50093.048 a man who had reason to hate me, Elías, has freed me from the
50098.088 prison into which my friends have thrown me.  » These words were followed by a sad silence; María Clara bowed her
50105.208 head and let both hands fall. Ibarra continued: « Next to my mother’s corpse, I swore to make you happy, whatever my
50113.888 fate! » You may have broken your oath; she was not your mother; but I, her son, hold her memory sacred, and through
50123.008 a thousand dangers I have come here to fulfill mine. And chance allows me to speak to you, Maria, we shall not see each other again. You are
50132.048 young, and perhaps one day your conscience will accuse you… I have come to tell you, before leaving, that I forgive you. Now be happy, and goodbye!
50140.984 Ibarra tried to walk away, but the young woman stopped him. « Chrysostom! » he said. « God sent you to save me from
50148.544 despair… hear me, and judge me! » Ibarra tried to gently dismiss her.
50154.944 « I have not come to ask you to account for your actions… I have come to give you peace of mind.  » « I do not want the peace of mind you are giving me; I will give myself peace of mind
50163.504 ! You despise me, and your contempt will make me bitter until
50168.704 death! » Ibarra saw the poor woman’s despair and pain and asked her what she wanted.
50174.384 « I want you to believe I’ve always loved you! » Crisóstomo smiled bitterly.
50179.944 « Ah! You doubt me, you doubt your childhood friend, who has never hidden a single thought from you! » the young woman exclaimed in pain. « I
50188.624 understand you! When you learn my story, the sad story they revealed to me during my illness, you will pity me and you will no longer
50196.944 smile at my pain. Why didn’t you let me die in the hands of my ignorant doctor? You and I would have been happier! »
50204.824 María Clara paused for a moment and continued: « You wanted it, you doubted me, may my mother forgive me! During
50211.904 one of the painful nights of my suffering, a man revealed to me the name of my real father, and forbade me to love you… unless
50220.224 my father himself forgave you for the wrong you have done him! » Ibarra stepped back and looked at the young woman in horror.
50225.864 « Yes, » she continued; « the man told me that he could not permit our
50230.984 union, for his conscience would forbid it, and he would be forced to publish it, at the risk of causing a great scandal, because my
50239.104 father is… » And she murmured a name in the young man’s ear in such a low voice that only he
50244.944 heard it.
« What was I going to do? Should I sacrifice to my love the memory
50250.832 of my mother, the honor of my false father, and the good name of my real one? Could I do it without you yourself despising me? »
50258.952 « But proof? Did you have proof? » « You needed proof! » exclaimed Crisóstomo, convulsed.
50265.192 The young woman pulled two papers from her bosom. « Two letters from my mother, two letters written in the midst of her
50271.312 remorse, when she was carrying me in her womb! Here, read them, and you will see how she curses me and wishes for my death… my death which
50280.752 my father sought in vain with medicines! He forgot these letters in the house where he lived; the man found and kept them, and only
50288.592 gave them to me in exchange for your letter… to assure himself, as he said, that I would not marry you without my father’s consent. Since
50296.872 I have been carrying them on me, instead of your letter, I feel the cold on my heart. I sacrificed you, I sacrificed my love… what doesn’t one do
50305.952 for a dead mother and two living fathers? Did I suspect the use they were going to make of your letter?
50312.552  » Ibarra was terrified. María Clara continued: « What was left for me? » Could I perhaps tell you who my father was?
50318.672 Could I tell you to ask his forgiveness, he who had made yours suffer so much? Could I perhaps tell my father to forgive you?
50326.392 Could I tell him that I was his daughter, he who had so desired my death? All that remained for me was to suffer, to keep the secret from myself, and to die
50335.072 suffering! Now, my friend, now that you know the sad story
50340.232 of your Maria, will you still have that disdainful smile for her? « Maria, you are a saint!
50347.752  » « I am happy, since you believe me…  » « However, » added the young man, changing his tone, « I have heard that
50353.352 you are getting married…  » « Yes! » sobbed the young woman; « my father demands this sacrifice from me… he
has loved and fed me, and it was not his duty; I repay him this debt
50362.48 of gratitude by assuring him of peace through this new kinship, but…
 » « But? »
50368.8 « I will not forget the oaths of fidelity I made you. » « What are you planning to do? » Ibarra asked, trying to read her eyes.
50376.12 « The future is dark, and Destiny is in the shadows! I don’t know what I shall do; but know that I love only once, and without love I will never
50385.28 belong to anyone. And what will become of you?  » « I am nothing more than a fugitive… I am fleeing. My escape
50392.08 will soon be discovered , María… » María Clara took the young man’s head in her hands, kissed him repeatedly on the lips, embraced him, and then,
50401.88 abruptly pushing him away, « Run away, run away! » she said; « Run away, goodbye! » Ibarra looked at her with shining eyes, but at a sign from the young woman,
50411.0 he walked away, drunken and hesitant… He jumped over the wall again and entered the bench. María Clara, leaning
50417.68 on the parapet, watched him walk away. Elías took off his hat and greeted her cordially. Chapter 64.
50424.8 THE HUNTING ON THE LAKE « Listen, sir, to the plan I have thought about, » said Elias thoughtfully as
50430.88 they headed for San Gabriel. « I will now hide you in the house of a friend
50436.0 of mine in Mandaluyong; I will bring you all your money, which I have saved and
50441.4 kept at the foot of the balití, in the mysterious tomb of your grandfather; you will leave the country…
50447.0  » « To go abroad? » interrupted Ibarra. « To live in peace the days that remain to you. You have friends
50454.32 in Spain, you are rich, you will be able to get a pardon. In any case, For us, a foreigner is a better country than our own.
50462.32 Crisóstomo didn’t reply; he meditated in silence. At that moment they were reaching the Pasig River, and the banca began to rise
50470.64 . A horseman was riding quickly over the Puente de España, and a long, sharp whistle could be heard.
50477.112 « Elías, » replied Ibarra, « you owe your misfortune to my family; you have saved my life twice, and I owe you not only gratitude, but
50486.792 also restitution of your fortune. You advise me to live abroad; then come with me, and let us live like brothers. Here
50494.992 you are also unhappy.  » Elías sadly shook his head and answered: « Impossible! It is true that I cannot love or be happy in my country,
50503.152 but I can suffer and die in it, and perhaps for it: that is always something. » Let
50508.712 the misfortune of my country be my own misfortune, and since we are not
50514.472 united by a noble thought, since our hearts do not beat in a single name, at least let my countrymen be united by a common misfortune, at
50524.072 least let me weep with them for our sorrows, let the same misfortune oppress our hearts!
50530.872 « Then why do you advise me to leave? » « Because you can be happy elsewhere and I cannot, because you are not
50537.912 made to suffer, and because you would hate your country if one day you were to find yourself unhappy because of it; and to hate one’s country is the
50547.352 greatest misfortune.  » « You are unjust to me! » exclaimed Ibarra with bitter reproach; « you forget
50553.072 that, as soon as I arrived here, I set about seeking its good…  » « Do not be offended, sir, I do not reproach you: I wish everyone
50560.552 could imitate you! » But I don’t ask the impossible of you, and don’t be offended if I tell you that your heart deceives you. You loved your country because
50569.192 your father taught you so; you loved it because there you had
50574.552 love, fortune, youth, because everything smiled upon you, your country
50580.312 had done you no injustice; you loved it as we love everything that makes us happy. But the day you see yourselves poor, hungry,
50588.392 persecuted, betrayed, and sold by your own countrymen, that day you will deny yourself, your country, and everyone else.
50596.608 « Your words hurt me, » Ibarra said resentfully. Elías lowered his head, considered, and replied:
50604.648 « I want to disabuse you, sir, and spare you a sad future. Remember that time when I spoke to you on this very
50612.008 bench and in the light of this very moon, a month ago, give or take a few days:
50618.008 then you were happy. » The plea of ​​the wretches did not reach you: you disdained their complaints because they were the complaints of criminals;
50627.528 you listened more to their enemies and, despite my arguments and pleas,
50633.048 you sided with their oppressors, and it was up to you whether I became a criminal or let myself be killed to fulfill
50641.688 a sacred word. God did not allow it because the ancient leader of the criminals is dead… A month has passed and now you think
50650.528 differently! You are right, Elias, but man is a creature of circumstances: then I was blinded, disgusted, what do I know? Now misfortune
50659.128 has torn off the bandage; the solitude and misery of my imprisonment have taught me; now I see the horrible cancer that gnaws at this society, that
50668.848 clings to its flesh and demands violent extirpation. They have opened my eyes, they have made me see the wound, and they force me
50676.928 to become a criminal! And since they’ve wanted it, I’ll be a filibuster, but a true filibuster; I’ll call on all the unfortunates, all those
50686.168 who feel a heart beating inside their chests, those who sent you
50691.328 to me… No, I won’t be a criminal, he who fights for his country never is, on the contrary! For three centuries, we’ve extended our hand to them,
50700.008 asked for their love, longed to call them our brothers. How do they answer us? With insults and mockery, denying us even the quality
50708.648 of human beings. There is no God, there is no hope, there is no humanity; there is only the right of might!
50715.128 Ibarra was nervous; his whole body was trembling. They passed in front of the General’s palace and thought they noticed movement
50722.8 and agitation among the guards. « Has the escape been discovered? » Elias murmured. « Lie down, sir,
50728.92 so I can cover you with the grass, because we’ll be passing by the Powder Maker, and the fact that there are two of us might shock the sentry. »
50736.44 The banca was one of those thin, narrow canoes that don’t row but glide over the water.
50743.36 As Elias had anticipated, the sentry stopped him and asked
50748.52 where he had come from. « From Manila, to give grass to the judges and priests, » he replied, imitating
50754.2 the accent of those from Pandakan. A sergeant came out and learned what was going on.
50759.8 « Sulung! » he said to him. « I warn you not to receive
50765.28 anyone on the banca; a prisoner has just escaped. If you capture him and hand him over to me, I’ll give you a good tip.
50771.56  » « All right, sir; what are his signs? » « He’s wearing a frock coat and speaks Spanish; so be careful! »
50777.24 The bench moved away. Elías turned and saw the silhouette of the sentry,
50783.32 standing by the bank. « We’ll lose a few minutes, » he said in a low voice. « We must
50789.92 enter the Beata River to pretend I’m from Peña Francia. You’ll see the river Francisco Baltasar sang about.
50796.4  » The town slept in the moonlight. Crisóstomo got up to admire the sepulchral peace of nature. The river was narrow, and its
50804.56 banks formed a flat plain, covered with grass. Elías threw his load on the bank, took a long rod, and pulled out
50812.52 some empty bayons or sacks made of palm leaves from under the grass . They continued sailing.
50819.68 « You are the master of your will, sir, and of your future, » he said to Crisóstomo, who remained silent. « But if you will allow me
50829.12 an observation, I will tell you: Consider carefully what you are going to do. You are going
50834.2 to ignite the war, for you have money, intelligence, and you will soon find many workers; unfortunately, there are many discontented people.
50841.576 But in this struggle you are about to undertake, those who will suffer most are the
50847.016 defenseless and innocent. The same sentiments that a month ago made me address you asking for reforms are also those that
50854.976 now move me to tell you to meditate. The country, sir, does not intend to separate from the mother country; it asks for nothing more than a little liberty,
50863.896 justice, and love. The discontented, the criminals,
50869.416 the desperate will support you, but the people will abstain. You are mistaken if, seeing everything dark, you believe that the country is desperate. » The country
50878.856 suffers, yes, but it still hopes, it believes, and it will only rise when it has
50884.096 lost patience, that is, when those who govern want it to, which is still far off. I myself would not follow you; I will never resort to such
50893.736 extreme remedies while I see hope in men. « Then I will go without you! » Chrysostom replied resolutely.
50901.896 « Is your decision firm?  » « Firm and sole, may the memory of my father witness! I will not allow
50908.176 peace and happiness to be taken from me with impunity, I who have desired only good, I who have respected and suffered everything for love of
50916.136 a hypocritical religion, for love of a country. How have they repaid me? By sinking me into an infamous dungeon and prostituting
50923.936 my future wife. No, not taking revenge would be a crime; it would be encouraging them to new injustices! No, it would be cowardice, pusillanimity, to moan
50934.496 and weep when there is blood and life, when insult and challenge are joined by scorn! I will call upon this ignorant people, I will make them see their
50941.416 misery; let them not think of brothers; there are only wolves that devour each other, and I will tell them that against this oppression the eternal
50949.776 right of man to conquer his freedom rises and protests ! “The innocent people will suffer!
50955.296 ” “Better! Can you lead me to the mountains? ” “Until you are safe!” Elias replied.
50960.976 They went out again to the Pasig. They talked from time to time of
50966.128 indifferent things. “Santa Ana!” Ibarra murmured; “Do you know this house? ” They passed in front of the Jesuits’ country house.
50973.688 “I spent many happy and joyful days there!” Elias sighed. “In my time we came every month… then I was like the others:
50981.968 I had a fortune, a family, I dreamed and glimpsed a future. In those
50987.968 days I saw my sister at the neighboring school; she gave me a piece of work.” by her hand… she was accompanied by a friend, a beautiful young woman. Everything had
50996.928 passed like a dream. They remained silent until they reached Malapad-na-bató [174]. Those
51004.688 who have ever sailed the Pasig at night, on one of those magical nights that the Philippines offers, when the moon pours forth
51013.648 melancholy poetry from the limpid blue; when shadows hide the misery of men and silence extinguishes the petty accents of their voice;
51023.168 when only Nature speaks, they will understand what the two young men were meditating on.
51028.488 In Malapad-na-bató, the carabiniere was sleepy, and, seeing that the banca was empty and offered no loot to be taken according to the traditional
51036.728 custom of his body and use of that post, he let them pass easily.
51042.328 The civil guard of Pasig also suspected nothing, and they were not bothered. Dawn was beginning to break when they reached the lake, tame and tranquil like
51051.288 a gigantic mirror. The moon was paling and the East was tinged with rosy tints. In the distance, they saw a gray mass
51060.568 advancing slowly. « The barge is coming, » Elias murmured. « Lie down and I’ll cover you with these
51066.448 sacks. » The shape of the boat became clearer and more perceptible. « It’s coming between us and the shore, » Elias observed uneasily.
51074.848 And he gradually changed the direction of his banca, rowing toward Binangonan. To his great astonishment, he noticed that the barge was also changing
51082.168 direction, while a voice called to him. Elias stopped and reflected. The shore was still far away, and they would soon
51088.856 be within range of the barge’s rifles. He thought of returning to the Pasig: his banca was faster than that one. But, fatally! Another banca
51097.736 was coming from the Pasig, and the helmets and bayonets of the Civil Guards could be seen gleaming.
51103.056 « We’re trapped! » he murmured, turning pale. He looked at his sturdy arms and, taking the only resolution
51109.536 he had left, began to row with all his might toward Talim Island . Meanwhile, the sun was rising.
51116.496 The banca was gliding rapidly; Elías saw some men standing on the dinghy, signaling to him.
51124.056 « Do you know how to steer a banca? » he asked Ibarra. « Yes; why?  » « Because we’re lost if I don’t jump into the water and make them lose
51132.136 track. They’ll chase me; I swim and dive well… I’ll draw them away
51138.336 from you, and then you can try to save yourselves.  » « No; stay and let’s sell our lives dearly!  »  »
51143.936 It’s useless! We have no weapons, and with their rifles they’ll kill us like birds. »
51149.056 At that moment, a hiss was heard in the water like the fall of a hot body, immediately followed by a detonation.
51156.096 « See? » said Elias, placing the oar on the bench. « We’ll see each other on Christmas Eve at your grandfather’s grave. Save yourselves!
51164.136  » « And you ?  » « God has saved me from greater dangers.  » Elias took off his shirt; a bullet tore it from his hands, and two
51173.416 shots rang out. Without flinching, he shook hands with Ibarra, who was still lying at the bottom of the bench; he got up and jumped
51183.136 into the water, pushing the small boat with his foot. Several shouts were heard, and soon the
51191.216 young man’s head appeared in the distance as if breathing, then disappeared instantly. « There, there it is! » shouted several voices, and the bullets whistled again
51198.096 . The longboat and the bench gave chase: a light wake
51203.648 marked their passage, moving further and further away from Ibarra’s bench, which rowed as if abandoned. Every time the swimmer poked his
51210.888 head out to breathe, the Civil Guard and the boatmen fired at him. The chase continued; Ibarra’s dock was far away, the swimmer
51219.808 was approaching the shore, about fifty fathoms away. The rowers were already tired, but Elías was too, for
51227.528 he stuck his head out frequently, each time in a different direction, as if to
51232.648 confuse his pursuers. The treacherous wake no longer signaled the diver’s passage. For the last time they saw him near the shore, about
51241.328 ten fathoms away, they opened fire… then minutes and minutes passed; nothing.
51247.168 reappeared on the calm and deserted surface of the lake. Half an hour later, an oarsman was trying to find
51256.328 signs of blood in the water near the shore, but his companions shook their heads with an air that meant both yes and no.
51262.688 Chapter 65. Padre Damaso Explains Himself The precious wedding gifts are piled up on a table in vain;
51271.608 neither the diamonds in their blue velvet cases, nor the pineapple embroidery, nor the silk pieces attract María Clara’s attention. The
51280.248 young woman stares, without seeing or reading, at the newspaper reporting Ibarra’s death, drowned in the lake.
51287.528 Suddenly she feels two hands placed over her eyes, holding her up, and a cheerful voice, that of Padre Damaso, says to her:
51295.728 « Who am I? Who am I? » María Clara jumps from her seat and looks at him in terror. « Silly me, were you scared, eh? You weren’t expecting me, eh? » Well, I’ve come
51305.688 from the provinces to attend your wedding. » And approaching with a satisfied smile, he held out his hand for
51313.248 her to kiss. Maria Clara bent down tremblingly and brought it
51318.568 respectfully to her lips. « What’s the matter, Maria? » asked the Franciscan, losing her joyful smile and becoming anxious. « Your hand is cold,
51327.352 you’re pale… Are you ill, my little girl? » And Father Damaso drew her to him with a tenderness of which one would not
51336.112 have thought he was capable. He took both of the young woman’s hands and questioned her with his gaze. « Don’t you trust your godfather anymore? » he asked in a
51344.032 reproachful tone. « Come, sit here and tell me your troubles, as you did with me as a child, when you wanted candles to make
51352.632 wax dolls. You know I’ve always loved you… I’ve never scolded you… » Father Damaso’s voice was no longer harsh and began to take on
51360.912 affectionate overtones. Maria Clara began to cry. « Are you crying, my child? Why are you crying? Have you had a quarrel with Linares? »
51370.032 Maria Clara covered her ears. « Not a word about him… now! » cried the young woman. Father Damaso looked at her in astonishment.
51377.272 « Don’t you want to confide your secrets to me? Haven’t I always tried to satisfy your smallest whims? »
51383.232 The young woman raised her tearful eyes to him, looked at him for a moment, and then wept bitterly again.
51389.592 « Don’t cry like that, my child, your tears hurt me! Tell me
51394.712 your troubles; you’ll see how your godfather loves you! » Maria Clara approached her slowly, fell on her knees at her feet
51401.912 , and raising her face, bathed in tears, said in a low, barely audible voice:
51407.952 « Do you still love me?  » « Child!  » « Then… protect my father and break up my marriage! »
51414.192 And the young woman recounted her last interview with Ibarra, concealing the secret of her birth.
51419.232 Father Dámaso could hardly believe what he heard. « While he was alive, » the young woman continued, « I planned to fight, I hoped,
51426.872 I trusted. I wanted to live to hear about him… but now that he ‘s dead, there’s no reason for me to live and suffer.
51434.712  » She said this slowly, in a low voice, calmly, without tears. « But, silly girl, isn’t Linares a thousand times better than… »
51442.776 « When he was alive, I could have married… I planned to run away afterward… my father wants nothing but kinship! Now that he’s dead, no one
51451.576 else will call me his wife… When he was alive, I could have debased myself; all I had was the consolation of knowing that he existed and perhaps would think of me;
51462.136 now that he’s dead… the convent or the grave. » The young woman’s accent had such firmness that Father Dámaso
51469.656 lost his cheerful air and became very thoughtful. « Did you love him so much? » she asked, stammering.
51475.376 Maria Clara did not reply. Fray Damaso bowed his head on his breast and remained silent.
51482.136 « My child! » he exclaimed in a pained voice, « forgive me for having made you unhappy without knowing it. I was thinking of your future, I wanted your
51489.976 happiness. How could I allow you to marry a local, only to see you an unhappy wife and an unhappy mother? I could not get
51498.616 your love out of your mind, and I opposed it with all my might, I abused everything, You, only for you. If you had been his wife, you would weep later
51508.696 for the condition of your husband, exposed to every vexation without any means of defense; mother, you would weep for the fate of your children: if
51518.336 you educate them, you prepare a sad future for them; they become enemies of Religion, and you will see them hanged or exiled; if you leave them ignorant,
51528.976 you will see them tyrannized and degraded! I could not consent to it! That is why
51534.416 I was looking for a husband for you who could make you a happy mother of children who command and not obey, who punish and not suffer…
51542.592 I knew that your childhood friend was good, I loved him as a father,
51548.552 but I hated them from the moment I saw that they were going to cause your unhappiness, because I love you, I idolize you, I love you as one loves a daughter; I have no
51556.952 affection other than yours; I have seen you grow; not an hour goes by that I do not think of you; I dream of you; You are my only joy…
51566.952 And Father Dámaso began to cry like a child. « Well then, if you love me, don’t make me eternally unhappy;
51573.992 he is no longer alive; I want to be a nun.  » « To be a nun, to be a nun! » he repeated. « You don’t know, my daughter,
51581.072 life, the mystery hidden behind the convent walls, you don’t know it! I would rather see you unhappy in the world than
51589.792 in a cloister… Here your complaints can be heard; there you will only have the walls… You are beautiful; very beautiful, and you were not born for it,
51599.072 for the bride of Christ. Believe me, my daughter, time erases everything;
51604.272 later you will forget, you will love, and you will love your husband… Linares.  » « Either the convent or… death! » repeated María Clara.
51613.072 “The convent, the convent or death!” exclaimed Father Dámaso. “Maria, I am old now; I will no longer be able to watch over you and
51622.512 your peace of mind. Choose something else, seek another love, another young man,
51627.672 whoever he may be, anything but the convent. ” “The convent or death! ” “My God, my God!” cried the priest, covering his head
51637.472 with his hands. “You may punish me; but watch over my daughter.” And turning to the young woman, he said,
51643.872 “Do you want to be a nun? You will; I don’t want you to die.” Maria Clara took both of his hands, shook them, and knelt and kissed them
51650.912 . “Godfather, my godfather!” she repeated. Afterward, Fra Dámaso left sadly, his head bowed and sighing.
51657.312 “God, God, you exist since you punish! But take revenge on me and
51663.312 do not harm the innocent; save my daughter.” Chapter 66. CHRISTMAS EVE
51668.416 High above, on the mountainside, beside a stream, a hut built of logs is hidden among the trees. A
51676.696 gourd climbs, branching and laden with fruit and flowers, over its kogon [175] roof
51682.696 ; deer antlers and boar skulls
51688.496 , some with long tusks, adorn the rustic hearth. There lives a Tagalog family, dedicated to hunting and chopping firewood.
51695.536 In the shade of a tree, the grandfather makes brooms from the veins of the palm tree, while a young woman places hen’s eggs, lemons
51704.616 , and vegetables in a basket. Two children, a boy and a girl, play beside another,
51710.216 pale, melancholic man with large eyes and a deep gaze, sitting on
51716.016 a fallen tree trunk. In his emaciated features we recognize Sisa’s son , Basilio, Crispín’s brother.
51723.056 « When your foot gets better, » the little girl told him, « we’ll play hide-and-seek. I’ll be the mother. »
51729.536 « You’ll climb with us to the top of the mountain, » the boy added. « You’ll drink
51734.656 deer blood with lemon juice and you’ll get fat, and then I’ll teach you to jump from rock to rock, over the stream.
51742.496  » Basilio smiled sadly, looked at the wound on his foot, and then looked up at the sun that was shining brightly.
51749.696 « Sell these brooms, » the grandfather said to the girl, « and buy something for your brothers, because today is Easter.
51756.896  » « Broomsticks, I want bricklayers! » the boy cried. « I want a head for my doll! » the girl cried, picking up her
51765.776 sister from the matis. « And what do you want? » the grandfather asked Basilio. Basilio got up with difficulty and approached the old man.
51772.976 « Sir, » he said, « have I been sick for more than a month? » « Since we found you unconscious and covered in wounds,
51780.536 two moons have passed; we thought you were going to die…  » « God bless you; we are very poor! » replied Basilio; « but
51789.464 since today is Easter, I want to go to the village to see my mother and my little brother. They will be looking for me.
51795.224  » « But, son, you are not well yet, and your village is far away; you won’t be home until midnight.
51801.104  » « No matter, sir! My mother and my little brother must be very sad; every year we spend this holiday together… last year we ate one
51810.584 fish between the three of us… Mother will have been crying while looking for me.  » « You will never reach the village alive, lad! Tonight we have chicken
51819.944 and wild boar tapa. My sons will look for you when they come from the fields…  » « You have many children, and my mother only has the two of us;
51828.984 perhaps she thinks I am already dead. Tonight I want to give her something to cheer her up, a bonus… a son. »
51835.464 The old man felt his eyes moisten, placed his hand on the
51840.784 boy’s head, and said, moved: « You look like an old man! Go on, go, find your mother, give her a gift… from God, as you say; if I had known the name of your
51850.904 town, I would have gone there when you were sick. Go on, my son, may God
51856.704 and the Lord Jesus be with you. Lucia, my granddaughter, will go with you to the next town.
51862.064  » « What? Are you going? » the boy asked. « There are soldiers down there,
51867.424 there are thieving men. Don’t you want to see my robbers? Pum purumpum!
51872.704  » « Don’t you want to play blind man’s buff with hide-and-seek? » the girl asked in turn . « Have you ever hidden? True, there is nothing more pleasant
51880.424 than being chased and hiding.  » Basilio smiled; He picked up his cane and, with tears in his eyes
51886.904 , said, « I’ll be back soon. » « I ‘ll bring my little brother. You’ll see him and play with him; he’s as big as you.
51894.224  » « Does he walk with a limp too? » the girl asked. « Then we’ll make him a mother on the peak.  » « Don’t forget us, » the old man told her. « Take this
51903.384 boar’s head and give it to your mother. » The children accompanied him to the reed bridge over the
51909.68 turbulent stream. Lucia made him lean on her arm, and they disappeared from
51915.0 the children’s sight . Basilio walked lightly despite his bandaged leg. The north wind whistles, and the inhabitants of San Diego shiver
51923.12 with cold. It is Christmas Eve, and yet the town is sad. Not a single
51929.0 paper lantern hangs from the windows, nor does any noise in the houses announce joy as in other years.
51934.56 On the mezzanine of Captain Basilio’s house, he and Don Filipo are talking beside a railing (the latter’s misfortune had made them
51942.24 friends), while from the other side, his cousin Victoria and the beautiful Iday are looking out toward Sinang Street.
51948.4 The waning moon was beginning to shine on the horizon, gilding clouds,
51953.68 trees, and houses, projecting long, fantastic shadows. « Your fortune is no small feat, to be acquitted in these
51960.6 times! » Captain Basilio was saying to Don Filipo. « They’ve burned your books, yes, but others have lost more.  »
51969.32 A woman approached the railing and looked inside. Her eyes were
51974.36 bright, her features haggard, her hair loose and disheveled:
51979.6 the moon gave her a singular appearance. « Sisa! » exclaimed Don Filipo, surprised, turning to Captain
51986.76 Basilio as the madwoman walked away. “Weren’t you at a doctor’s house?” she asked. “Has she been cured now?”
51993.4 Captain Basilio smiled bitterly. “The doctor was afraid of being accused of being Don Crisóstomo’s friend
52000.32 and sent her away from his house. Now she’s wandering around again as crazy as ever, she sings, she’s harmless, and she lives in the woods…
52007.28 ” “What else has happened in the village since we left? I know
52012.32 we have a new priest and a new ensign… ” “Terrible times, humanity is going backwards!” Captain Basilio murmured,
52019.56 thinking of the past. “You see: the day after you left, they found the head sacristan dead, hanging from the zaquizamí of his
52027.888 house. Father Salví felt her death very much and seized all his papers. Ah! The philosopher Tasio also died and was buried in the
52037.448 cemetery of the Chinese people. « Poor Don Anastasio! » sighed Don Filipo; « and his books?
52044.208  » « They were burned by the pious, who thought they were thus pleasing God. I could save nothing, not even Cicero’s books… the gobernadorcillo did
52053.288 nothing to prevent it.  » Both remained silent. At that moment, the sad and melancholy singing of the madwoman could be heard.
52060.168 « Do you know when María Clara is getting married? » Yday asked Sinang. « I don’t know, » she replied. « I received a letter from her, but I won’t
52069.168 open it for fear of finding out. Poor Crisóstomo!  » « They say that if it weren’t for Linares, Captain Tiago would be hanged; what
52076.568 would María Clara do? » Victoria observed. A boy limped by; He ran toward the plaza, from where
52084.648 Sisa’s song was emanating. It’s Basilio. The boy had found his house, deserted and in ruins; after many questions, he only learned that his
52093.888 mother was crazy and wandering the town; not a word about Crispín. Basilio swallowed his tears, drowned his pain, and without resting, went
52104.008 to find his mother. He reached the town, asked for her, and a song
52109.248 pierced his ears. The unfortunate man controlled the trembling in his legs and wanted
52114.608 to run and throw himself into his mother’s arms. The crazy woman left the plaza and arrived in front of the new
52120.928 lieutenant’s house. Now, as before, there is a sentry at the gate, and a
52126.088 woman’s head appears at the window, but it is not Medusa, it is a young woman:
52131.288 lieutenant and wretch are not synonymous. Sisa began to sing in front of the house, looking at the moon, which
52138.648 swayed majestically in the blue sky among golden clouds. Basilio watched her and didn’t dare approach, perhaps hoping she would leave the place;
52148.128 he paced back and forth, but avoided approaching the barracks. The young woman at the window listened intently to the madwoman’s song
52156.408 and ordered the sentry to bring her up. Sisa, seeing the soldier approaching and hearing his voice, was filled with terror and
52164.048 ran, and God knows how a madwoman runs. Basilio followed behind her, and fearing to lose her, he ran and forgot the pain in his feet.
52173.448 « Look how that boy is chasing the madwoman! » exclaimed an indignant servant who was in the street.
52179.248 Seeing him still chasing her, she picked up a stone and threw it at him, saying, « Take it! What a pity the dog is tied up! »
52187.688 Basilio felt a blow to his head, but continued running without paying attention. The dogs barked at him, the geese honked, and windows
52195.928 opened to admit a curious visitor. Other doors were closing, fearing another night of disturbances.
52201.968 They arrived outside the town. Sisa began to slow down; a great distance separated her from her pursuer.
52209.208 « Mother! » she shouted when she spotted her. The crazy woman, barely hearing the voice, began to flee again.
52215.848 « Mother, it’s me! » cried the desperate boy. The crazy woman couldn’t hear; the son was still panting. The crops had passed
52224.728 and they were now close to the woods. Basilio saw his mother enter and went in too. The bushes, the
52232.208 shrubs, the thorny rushes, and the protruding roots of the trees impeded their progress. The son followed his mother’s silhouette,
52241.848 illuminated from time to time by the moonbeams, penetrating through the clearings and branches. It was the mysterious forest of
52249.448 Ibarra’s family. The boy stumbled several times, falling, but he got up; he felt no
52255.088 pain. His whole soul was concentrated on his eyes, which followed the beloved figure.
52260.936 They crossed the sweetly murmuring stream; the thorns of the reeds, fallen into the mud on the bank, sank into his bare feet:
52271.256 Basilio did not pause to pull them out. To his great surprise, he saw his mother go deeper into the thicket
52277.456 and enter through the wooden door that closes the old Spaniard’s tomb at the foot of the balitî.
52283.136 Basilio tried to do the same but found the door closed. The madwoman
52288.176 defended the entrance with her emaciated arms and disheveled head, holding it closed with all her strength.
52295.096 « Mother, it’s me, it’s me, it’s Basilio, your son! » cried the exhausted boy, letting himself fall.
52301.456 But the madwoman wouldn’t budge; braced herself with her feet on the ground, she offered a vigorous resistance.
52307.736 Basilio pounded on the door with his fist, his head bathed in blood, and wept, but in vain. He got up with difficulty and looked at the wall,
52315.656 thinking of scaling it, but found nothing. He then circled around and saw a
52321.096 branch of the fateful baliti crossing with that of another tree. He climbed: his filial love worked miracles, and from branch to branch he crossed the baliti,
52331.016 and saw his mother still holding the leaves of the door with her head. The noise she made on the branches caught Sisa’s attention; she turned
52339.616 and tried to flee, but her son, letting himself fall from the tree, embraced her and covered her with kisses, then fainted.
52347.016 Sisa saw his forehead bathed in blood; she bent toward him, her eyes
52352.776 seemed to jump out of their sockets. He looked into her face, and those pale features stirred the dormant cells of his brain. Something like a
52362.376 spark flew in his mind. He recognized his son and, with a cry,
52367.456 fell upon the fainting boy, embracing and kissing him. Mother and son remained motionless.
52374.296 When Basilio came to, he found his mother unconscious. He called her, lavished the most tender names on her, and seeing that she neither breathed nor
52383.592 awoke, he got up, went to the stream, drew some water in a small bowl of banana leaves, and sprinkled it on his
52392.392 mother’s pale face. But the mad woman made not the slightest movement; her eyes remained
52397.512 closed. Basilio looked at her in terror; he pressed his ear to her heart, but
52402.752 the thin, withered breast was cold, and the heart did not beat. He placed his
52408.312 lips against hers and perceived no breath. The unfortunate man embraced the corpse and wept bitterly.
52415.552 The moon shone majestically in the sky, the breeze sighed, and crickets chirped beneath the grass.
52421.912 The night of light and joy for so many children, who in the loving bosom of their families celebrate the feast of the sweetest memories, the feast that
52430.072 commemorates the first glance of love that heaven sent to earth; that night when all Christian families eat, drink, dance
52438.552 , sing, laugh, play, love, kiss… that night, which in cold countries is magical for children with its traditional pine tree,
52447.472 laden with lights, dolls, candy, and tinsel, who gaze dazzled
52452.512 with round eyes reflecting innocence, that night offers
52457.792 Basilio nothing but an orphanhood. Who knows? Perhaps in the home of the taciturn Father Salví the children also play, perhaps they sing:
52468.272 Christmas Eve is coming, Christmas Eve is going… The boy cried and moaned a lot and when he raised his head, he saw a man
52475.992 standing in front of him, who was looking at him in silence. The stranger asked him in a low voice: « Are you the son? »
52482.312 The boy nodded. « What are you planning to do? » « Bury her!  » « In the cemetery? »
52488.352 « I don’t have any money, and besides, the priest wouldn’t allow it.  » « Then…?  » « If you wanted to help me… »
52494.264 « I am very weak, » replied the stranger, who slowly sank to the ground, supporting himself with both hands on the earth. « I am
52502.464 hurt… I haven’t eaten or slept for two days… Hasn’t anyone come tonight?
52508.144  » The man remained thoughtful, contemplating the boy’s interesting physiognomy.
52513.584 “Listen!” he continued in a weaker voice; “I will also be dead before daylight comes… Twenty paces from here, on the other bank of the
52521.264 stream, there is a great deal of firewood piled up; bring it, make a pyre, place our
52526.384 corpses on it, cover them, and light a fire, a great deal of fire until we
52531.504 are turned to ashes…” Basilio listened. “Then, if no one else comes… you will dig here, find much
52538.224 gold… and it will all be yours. Study!” The stranger’s voice became increasingly unintelligible.
52545.264 “Go and get the firewood… I want to help you.” Basilio walked away. The stranger turned his face toward the East and
52551.744 She murmured as if praying: « I am dying without seeing the dawn shine upon my homeland!… You who are to see it, salute it… Do not forget those who have
52559.784 fallen during the night!  » She raised her eyes to heaven, her lips moved as if murmuring
52565.544 a prayer, then she lowered her head and slowly fell to the ground… Two hours later, Sister Rufa was in the batalan [176] of her
52577.384 house performing her morning ablutions to go to mass. The pious woman looked at the nearby woods and saw a thick column of smoke rise;
52585.384 she frowned and, filled with holy indignation, exclaimed: « Who can be the heretic who does kaingin [177] on a feast day? That is why
52595.784 so many misfortunes come! Try going to Purgatory and you will see if I can get you out of there, person!
52602.224  » EPILOGUE With many of our characters still alive, and the others having been lost from sight, a true epilogue is impossible.
52609.944 For the good of the people, we would gladly kill all our characters, starting with
52615.784 Father Salví and ending with Doña Victorina, but it is not possible… let them live! The country, not we, must feed them in the end…
52623.744 Since María Clara entered the convent, Father Dámaso left the town to live in Manila, like Father Salví, who, while
52632.704 awaiting a vacant miter, preached several times at the church of Santa Clara, in whose convent he held an important position. Not
52640.264 many months passed, and Father Dámaso received orders from the Provincial Priest to serve as a parish priest in a very distant province. It is said that
52648.624 he was so distressed by this that the next day he was found dead in his bedroom. Some said he died of apoplexy, others of a nightmare,
52656.624 but the doctor dispelled any doubts by declaring that he died suddenly. None of our readers would recognize Captain Tiago if
52664.424 they saw him. Already weeks before professing, María Clara fell into such a state of dejection that he began to grow weak and very sad,
52674.624 brooding, and distrustful, like his former friend, the unfortunate Captain Tinong. As soon as the convent doors closed, he ordered
52682.784 his disconsolate cousin, Aunt Isabel, to gather everything that had belonged to his daughter and deceased wife and go to Malabón or San Diego,
52691.464 for he wanted to live alone from then on. He devoted himself furiously to liampó and cockfighting and began to smoke opium. He no longer goes to Antipolo, nor does he order
52700.744 masses to be said; Doña Patrocinio, his old competitor, piously celebrates
52705.944 his triumph, snoring during the sermons. If you ever walk down the first street of Santo Cristo at nightfall,
52714.824 you will see, sitting in a Chinese person’s shop, a small, yellow,
52720.424 thin, bent-backed man with sunken, sleepy eyes and
52725.624 dirty-colored lips and nails, looking at the people as if he didn’t see them. When night falls, you will see him get up with difficulty and, leaning on a stick,
52734.456 go to a narrow corner and enter a dirty shack, above whose door is written in large red letters:
52744.296 ANFION PUBLIC SMOKING-ROOM [178]. This is that famous Captain Tiago,
52749.336 now completely forgotten, even by the head sacristan himself. Doña Victorina has added to her false curls and her Andalusian air,
52758.776 if we may use the word, the new habit of trying to guide the carriage horses, forcing Don Tiburcio to remain still. Since
52767.056 her failing eyesight caused many calamities, she now wore pince-nez, which gave her a famous appearance. The doctor was not
52774.496 called upon to assist anyone again; the servants saw him toothless many days a week, which, as our readers know,
52782.896 was a very bad omen. Linares, this unfortunate man’s sole defender, had been resting
52789.496 with Paco for some time, a victim of dysentery and the ill-treatment of his sister-in-law. The victorious ensign went to Spain as a lieutenant with the rank of
52797.976 commander, leaving his amiable wife in her flannel shirt, whose
52803.016 color was already beyond description. Poor Ariadne, seeing herself abandoned, also devoted herself, like the daughter of Minos, to the worship of Bacchus and the
52810.936 cultivation of tobacco, and she drinks and smokes with such passion that people now fear her.
52816.336 Not only the young girls, but also the old women and children. Our acquaintances from the town of San Diego are probably still alive,
52824.856 if they did not die in the explosion of the steamer Lipa, which was making the trip to the province. Since no one cared to find out who
52832.096 the unfortunates who died in that catastrophe were, or who
52837.136 the legs and arms scattered on Convalesce Island and on the banks of the river belonged to, we are completely unaware if
52846.016 any of our readers’ acquaintances were among them. We are satisfied, like the government and the press of that time, with knowing that the only friar
52855.408 who was on the steamer was saved, and we ask for no more. Our main concern is the life of the virtuous priests, whose reign
52864.888 in the Philippines may God preserve for the good of our souls [179].
52870.248 Nothing more was heard of María Clara, except that her tomb seems to be guarded in her womb. We have questioned several
52877.808 influential people in the holy convent of Santa Clara, but no one has been willing to say a single word to us, not even the chatty devotees,
52885.688 who are served the famous fried chicken livers and the even more famous sauce, called « the nuns’ sauce, » prepared by the intelligent
52895.328 cook of the Virgins of the Lord. However, one September night, a hurricane roared and whipped
52902.848 its gigantic wings against the buildings of Manila; thunder rumbled every moment; flashes of lightning and thunderbolts illuminated the ravages
52913.648 of the gale and plunged the inhabitants into utter terror. The rain fell in torrents. In the light of the flash or the snaking lightning bolt,
52922.608 a piece of the roof or a window could be seen flying through the air, collapsing
52927.888 with a horrible crash: not a car, not a passerby crossed the streets. When the hoarse echo of thunder, echoed a hundred times,
52937.728 faded in the distance, the wind could be heard sighing, swirling
52943.248 the rain, producing a repeated clatter against the shells of the closed windows.
52948.448 Two guards were sheltering in a building being built near the convent: a soldier and a distinguished man.
52956.088 « What are we doing here? » said the soldier; « no one’s out on the street… we should go to a house; my dear girl lives on
52964.768 Archbishop Street .  » « It’s a long way from here to there, and we’ll get wet, » replied the distinguished man.
52970.016 « What does it matter as long as the lightning doesn’t kill?  » « Bah! Don’t worry; the nuns must have a lightning rod
52977.976 to avoid it.  » « Yes! » said the soldier; « but what’s the use if the night is so dark? »
52983.656 And he raised his eyes to the heights to see in the darkness: at that
52989.056 moment a repeated flash of lightning flashed, followed by a tremendous crash of thunder. « Naku! Susmariósep! » [180] exclaimed the soldier, crossing himself
52999.616 and, pulling at his companion: « Let’s get away from here!  » « What’s the matter with you?  » « Let’s go, let’s get away from here! » he repeated, his teeth chattering
53006.656 with fear. « What have you seen?  » « A ghost! » he murmured, trembling.
53012.216 « A ghost?  » « On the roof… it must be the nun who collects embers during the night! »
53018.656 The distinguished man stuck his head out and tried to see. Another flash of lightning flashed, and a vein of fire crossed the sky, and
53026.216 a horrible explosion was heard. « Jesus! » he exclaimed, crossing himself as well. Indeed, in the brilliant light of the meteor, he had seen a
53035.016 white figure standing almost on the ridge of the roof,
53040.336 its arms and face raised to heaven, as if imploring him. The sky responded with lightning and thunder!
53046.856 After the thunder, a mournful moan was heard. « It’s not the wind, it’s the ghost! » murmured the soldier, as if
53053.976 responding to the pressure of his companion’s hand. « Alas! alas! » it crossed the air, overcoming the noise of the rain. The
53061.936 wind could not cover with its whistling that sweet, mournful voice,
53067.016 full of despair. Another flash of lightning shone, dazzling in intensity.
53072.176 « No, it’s not a ghost! » exclaimed the distinguished man; « I’ve seen her again;
53077.736 she’s as beautiful as the Virgin… Let’s get away from here and report it! » The soldier did not have the invitation repeated, and both disappeared.
53085.744 Who moans in the middle of the night, despite the wind, the rain, and the storm? Who is the timid virgin, the spouse of Jesus Christ,
53094.184 who defies the unleashed elements and chooses the tremendous night and the free sky to utter her complaints to God from a perilous height
53102.584 ? Has the Lord abandoned his temple in the convent and no longer hears prayers? Perhaps his vaults do not allow the
53109.784 soul’s aspirations to rise to the throne of the Merciful? The storm raged furiously for almost the entire night;
53115.984 during the night, not a single star shone; the desperate cries, mingled with the sighs of the wind, continued, but they found
53124.584 nature and men deaf: God had veiled Himself and did not hear.
53129.704 The following day, when the sky had cleared of dark clouds and the sun
53134.824 shone again in the purified ether, a carriage stopped at the door of the convent of Saint Clare, and a man stepped out.
53142.864 He introduced himself as a representative of the authorities and asked to speak
53148.064 immediately with the abbess and see all the nuns. It is said that one appeared with her habit all wet, in tatters,
53156.304 and weepingly begged for humankind’s protection against the violence of hypocrisy, revealing horrors. It is also said that she was extremely beautiful,
53163.864 that she had the most beautiful and expressive eyes ever seen. The representative of the authorities did not welcome her: he parleyed with the
53172.024 abbess and abandoned her despite her pleas and tears. The young nun saw the door close behind the man, just as the condemned man
53180.224 would see the gates of heaven close for him, if heaven ever became as cruel and insensitive as men. The abbess
53188.864 said she was crazy. The man might not have known that there was a hospice for
53194.392 the insane in Manila, or perhaps he might have thought that the nunnery was merely an asylum for the insane, although it is claimed that the man was ignorant enough,
53202.472 especially to be able to decide when a person was in their right mind or not. It is also said that General J. [181] thought otherwise,
53212.232 and that when the story reached his ears, he wanted to protect the crazy woman and
53217.752 asked for her. But this time no beautiful and helpless young woman appeared, and the abbess did not allow the cloister to be visited, invoking
53227.832 the name of religion and the Holy Statutes for this purpose. Nothing more was said about the incident, nor about the unfortunate
53234.552 María Clara. THE END We have reached the end of Noli me tángere by José Rizal, a work
53239.824 that transcends fiction to become a testimony of struggle and hope. With his pen, Rizal bravely exposed the shadows of his
53247.944 time, at the same time offering a human portrait filled with love, sacrifice, and dreams of justice. May this narrative remind us of the
53258.104 power of literature to open consciences and transform societies. Thank you for joining us for Ahora de Cuentos, and don’t forget
53265.744 to come back to discover more stories that illuminate memory and the collective imagination.
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