The Social Cancer: A Complete English Version of Noli Me Tangere
reason for this is easy to understand but dangerous to state.
Don Tiburcio had come to the Philippines as a petty official in the
Customs, but such had been his bad luck that, besides suffering
severely from seasickness and breaking a leg during the voyage,
he had been dismissed within a fortnight, just at the time when he
found himself without a cuarto. After his rough experience on the sea
he did not care to return to Spain without having made his fortune,
so he decided to devote himself to something. Spanish pride forbade
him to engage in manual labor, although the poor fellow would gladly
have done any kind of work in order to earn an honest living. But the
prestige of the Spaniards would not have allowed it, even though this
prestige did not protect him from want.
At first he had lived at the expense of some of his countrymen, but in
his honesty the bread tasted bitter, so instead of getting fat he grew
thin. Since he had neither learning nor money nor recommendations he
was advised by his countrymen, who wished to get rid of him, to go to
the provinces and pass himself off as a doctor of medicine. He refused
at first, for he had learned nothing during the short period that he
had spent as an attendant in a hospital, his duties there having been
to dust off the benches and light the fires. But as his wants were
pressing and as his scruples were soon laid to rest by his friends
he finally listened to them and went to the provinces. He began by
visiting some sick persons, and at first made only moderate charges,
as his conscience dictated, but later, like the young philosopher
of whom Samaniego [117] tells, he ended by putting a higher price
on his visits. Thus he soon passed for a great physician and would
probably have made his fortune if the medical authorities in Manila
had not heard of his exorbitant fees and the competition that he was
causing others. Both private parties and professionals interceded for
him. "Man," they said to the zealous medical official, "let him make
his stake and as soon as he has six or seven thousand pesos he can
go back home and live there in peace. After all, what does it matter
to you if he does deceive the unwary Indians? They should be more
careful! He's a poor devil--don't take the bread from his mouth--be a
good Spaniard!" This official was a good Spaniard and agreed to wink at
the matter, but the news soon reached the ears of the people and they
began to distrust him, so in a little while he lost his practise and
again saw himself obliged almost to beg his daily bread. It was then
that he learned through a friend, who was an intimate acquaintance of
Doña Victorina's, of the dire straits in which that lady was placed
and also of her patriotism and her kind heart. Don Tiburcio then saw
a patch of blue sky and asked to be introduced to her.
Doña Victorina and Don Tiburcio met: _tarde venientibus ossa_,
[118] he would have exclaimed had he known Latin! She was no longer
passable, she was passée. Her abundant hair had been reduced to a knot
about the size of an onion, according to her maid, while her face was
furrowed with wrinkles and her teeth were falling loose. Her eyes,
too, had suffered considerably, so that she squinted frequently in
looking any distance. Her disposition was the only part of her that
remained intact.
At the end of a half-hour's conversation they understood and accepted
each other. She would have preferred a Spaniard who was less lame,
less stuttering, less bald, less toothless, who slobbered less when he
talked, and who had more "spirit" and "quality," as she used to say,
but that class of Spaniards no longer came to seek her hand. She
had more than once heard it said that opportunity is pictured as
being bald, and firmly believed that Don Tiburcio was opportunity
itself, for as a result of his misfortunes he suffered from premature
baldness. And what woman is not prudent at thirty-two years of age?
Don Tiburcio, for his part, felt a vague melancholy when he thought of
his honeymoon, but smiled with resignation and called to his support
the specter of hunger. Never had he been ambitious or pretentious; his
tastes were simple and his desires limited; but his heart, untouched
till then, had dreamed of a very different divinity. Back there in his
youth when, worn out with work, he lay doom on his rough bed after
a frugal meal, he used to fall asleep dreaming of an image, smiling
and tender. Afterwards, when troubles and privations increased and
with the passing of years the poetical image failed to materialize,
he thought modestly of a good woman, diligent and industrious, who
would bring him a small dowry, to console him for the fatigues of
his toil and to quarrel with him now and then--yes, he had thought of
quarrels as a kind of happiness! But when obliged to wander from land
to land in search not so much of fortune as of some simple means of
livelihood for the remainder of his days; when, deluded by the stories
of his countrymen from overseas, he had set out for the Philippines,
realism gave, place to an arrogant mestiza or a beautiful Indian with
big black eyes, gowned in silks and transparent draperies, loaded
down with gold and diamonds, offering him her love, her carriages,
her all. When he reached Manila he thought for a time that his dream
was to be realized, for the young women whom he saw driving on the
Luneta and the Malecon in silver-mounted carriages had gazed at him
with some curiosity. Then after his position was gone, the mestiza and
the Indian disappeared and with great effort he forced before himself
the image of a widow, of course an agreeable widow! So when he saw
his dream take shape in part he became sad, but with a certain touch
of native philosophy said to himself, "Those were all dreams and in
this world one does not live on dreams!" Thus he dispelled his doubts:
she used rice-powder, but after their marriage he would break her
of the habit; her face had many wrinkles, but his coat was torn and
patched; she was a pretentious old woman, domineering and mannish,
but hunger was more terrible, more domineering and pretentious still,
and anyway, he had been blessed with a mild disposition for that very
end, and love softens the character. She spoke Spanish badly, but he
himself did not talk it well, as he had been told when notified of his
dismissal Moreover, what did it matter to him if she was an ugly and
ridiculous old woman? He was lame, toothless, and bald! Don Tiburcio
preferred to take charge of her rather than to become a public charge
from hunger. When some friends joked with him about it, he answered,
"Give me bread and call me a fool."
Don Tiburcio was one of those men who are popularly spoken of as
unwilling to harm a fly. Modest, incapable of harboring an unkind
thought, in bygone days he would have been made a missionary. His stay
in the country had not given him the conviction of grand superiority,
of great valor, and of elevated importance that the greater part
of his countrymen acquire in a few weeks. His heart had never been
capable of entertaining hate nor had he been able to find a single
filibuster; he saw only unhappy wretches whom he must despoil if he
did not wish to be more unhappy than they were. When he was threatened
with prosecution for passing himself off as a physician he was not
resentful nor did he complain. Recognizing the justness of the charge
against him, he merely answered, "But it's necessary to live!"
So they married, or rather, bagged each other, and went to Santa Ann
to spend their honeymoon. But on their wedding-night Doña Victorina
was attacked by a horrible indigestion and Don Tiburcio thanked God
and showed himself solicitous and attentive. A few days afterward,
however, he looked into a mirror and smiled a sad smile as he gazed
at his naked gums, for he had aged ten years at least.
Very well satisfied with her husband, Doña Victorina had a fine
set of false teeth made for him and called in the best tailors of
the city to attend to his clothing. She ordered carriages, sent to
Batangas and Albay for the best ponies, and even obliged him to keep a
pair for the races. Nor did she neglect her own person while she was
transforming him. She laid aside the native costume for the European
and substituted false frizzes for the simple Filipino coiffure, while
her gowns, which fitted her marvelously ill, disturbed the peace of
all the quiet neighborhood.
Her husband, who never went out on foot,--she did not care to have his
lameness noticed,--took her on lonely drives in unfrequented places to
her great sorrow, for she wanted to show him off in public, but she
kept quiet out of respect for their honeymoon. The last quarter was
coming on when he took up the subject of the rice-powder, telling her
that the use of it was false and unnatural. Doña Victorina wrinkled
up her eyebrows and stared at his false teeth. He became silent,
and she understood his weakness.
She placed a _de_ before her husband's surname, since the _de_ cost
nothing and gave "quality" to the name, signing herself "Victorina
de los Reyes _de_ De Espadaña." This _de_ was such a mania with her
that neither the stationer nor her husband could get it out of her
head. "If I write only one _de_ it may be thought that you don't have
it, you fool!" she said to her husband. [119]
Soon she believed that she was about to become a mother, so she
announced to all her acquaintances, "Next month De Espadaña and I are
going to the _Penyinsula_. I don't want our son to be born here and
be called a revolutionist." She talked incessantly of the journey,
having memorized the names of the different ports of call, so that
it was a treat to hear her talk: "I'm going to see the isthmus in the
Suez Canal--De Espadaña thinks it very beautiful and De Espadaña has
traveled over the whole world." "I'll probably not return to this
land of savages." "I wasn't born to live here--Aden or Port Said
would suit me better--I've thought so ever since I was a girl." In
her geography Doña Victorina divided the world into the Philippines
and Spain; rather differently from the clever people who divide it
into Spain and America or China for another name.
Her husband realized that these things were barbarisms, but held his
peace to escape a scolding or reminders of his stuttering. To increase
the illusion of approaching maternity she became whimsical, dressed
herself in colors with a profusion of flowers and ribbons, and appeared
on the Escolta in a wrapper. But oh, the disenchantment! Three months
went by and the dream faded, and now, having no reason for fearing
that her son would be a revolutionist, she gave up the trip. She
consulted doctors, midwives, old women, but all in vain. Having to the
great displeasure of Capitan Tiago jested about St. Pascual Bailon,
she was unwilling to appeal to any saint. For this reason a friend
of her husband's remarked to her:
"Believe me, señora, you are the only _strong-spirited_ person in
this tiresome country."
She had smiled, without knowing what _strong-spirited_ meant, but that
night she asked her husband. "My dear," he answered, "the s-strongest
s-spirit that I know of is ammonia. My f-friend must have s-spoken
f-figuratively."
After that she would say on every possible occasion, "I'm the only
ammonia in this tiresome country, speaking figuratively. So Señor
N. de N., a Peninsular gentleman of quality, told me."
Whatever she said had to be done, for she had succeeded in dominating
her husband completely. He on his part did not put up any great
resistance and so was converted into a kind of lap-dog of hers. If
she was displeased with him she would not let him go out, and when
she was really angry she tore out his false teeth, thus leaving him
a horrible sight for several days.