The Social Cancer: A Complete English Version of Noli Me Tangere
It soon occurred to her that her husband ought to be a doctor of
medicine and surgery, and she so informed him.
"My dear, do you w-want me to be arrested?" he asked fearfully.
"Don't be a fool! Leave me to arrange it," she answered. "You're
not going to treat any one, but I want people to call you _Doctor_
and me _Doctora_, see?"
So on the following day Rodoreda [120] received an order to engrave on
a slab of black marble: DR. DE ESPADAÑA, SPECIALIST IN ALL KINDS OF
DISEASES. All the servants had to address them by their new titles,
and as a result she increased the number of frizzes, the layers of
rice-powder, the ribbons and laces, and gazed with more disdain than
ever on her poor and unfortunate countrywomen whose husbands belonged
to a lower grade of society than hers did. Day by day she felt more
dignified and exalted and, by continuing in this way, at the end of
a year she would have believed herself to be of divine origin.
These sublime thoughts, however, did not keep her from becoming older
and more ridiculous every day. Every time Capitan Tiago saw her and
recalled having made love to her in vain he forthwith sent a peso to
the church for a mass of thanksgiving. Still, he greatly respected her
husband on account of his title of specialist in all kinds of diseases
and listened attentively to the few phrases that he was able to stutter
out. For this reason and because this doctor was more exclusive than
others, Capitan Tiago had selected him to treat his daughter.
In regard to young Linares, that is another matter. When arranging for
the trip to Spain, Doña Victorina had thought of having a Peninsular
administrator, as she did not trust the Filipinos. Her husband
bethought himself of a nephew of his in Madrid who was studying law
and who was considered the brightest of the family. So they wrote to
him, paying his passage in advance, and when the dream disappeared
he was already on his way.
Such were the three persons who had just arrived. While they were
partaking of a late breakfast, Padre Salvi came in. The Espadañas
were already acquainted with him, and they introduced the blushing
young Linares with all his titles.
As was natural, they talked of Maria Clara, who was resting and
sleeping. They talked of their journey, and Doña Victorina exhibited
all her verbosity in criticising the customs of the provincials,--their
nipa houses, their bamboo bridges; without forgetting to mention to
the curate her intimacy with this and that high official and other
persons of "quality" who were very fond of her.
"If you had come two days ago, Doña Victorina," put in Capitan
Tiago during a slight pause, "you would have met his Excellency,
the Captain-General. He sat right there."
"What! How's that? His Excellency here! In your house? No!"
"I tell you that he sat right there. If you had only come two days
ago--"
"Ah, what a pity that Clarita did not get sick sooner!" she exclaimed
with real feeling. Then turning to Linares, "Do you hear, cousin? His
Excellency was here! Don't you see now that De Espadaña was right
when he told you that you weren't going to the house of a miserable
Indian? Because, you know, Don Santiago, in Madrid our cousin was
the friend of ministers and dukes and dined in the house of Count
El Campanario."
"The Duke of La Torte, Victorina," corrected her husband. [121]
"It's the same thing. If you will tell me--"
"Shall I find Padre Damaso in his town?" interrupted Linares,
addressing Padre Salvi. "I've been told that it's near here."
"He's right here and will be over in a little while," replied the
curate.
"How glad I am of that! I have a letter to him," exclaimed the youth,
"and if it were not for the happy chance that brings me here, I would
have come expressly to visit him."
In the meantime the _happy_ chance had awakened.
"De Espadaña," said Doña Victorina, when the meal was over, "shall
we go in to see Clarita?" Then to Capitan Tiago, "Only for you, Don
Santiago, only for you! My husband only attends persons of quality,
and yet, and yet--! He's not like those here. In Madrid he only
visited persons of quality."
They adjourned to the sick girl's chamber. The windows were closed
from fear of a draught, so the room was almost dark, being only
dimly illuminated by two tapers which burned before an image of the
Virgin of Antipolo. Her head covered with a handkerchief saturated
in cologne, her body wrapped carefully in white sheets which swathed
her youthful form with many folds, under curtains of jusi and piña,
the girl lay on her kamagon bed. Her hair formed a frame around her
oval countenance and accentuated her transparent paleness, which
was enlivened only by her large, sad eyes. At her side were her two
friends and Andeng with a bouquet of tuberoses.
De Espadaña felt her pulse, examined her tongue, asked a few questions,
and said, as he wagged his head from side to side, "S-she's s-sick,
but s-she c-can be c-cured." Doña Victorina looked proudly at the
bystanders.
"Lichen with milk in the morning, syrup of marshmallow, two cynoglossum
pills!" ordered De Espadaña.
"Cheer up, Clarita!" said Doña Victorina, going up to her. "We've
come to cure you. I want to introduce our cousin."
Linares was so absorbed in the contemplation of those eloquent eyes,
which seemed to be searching for some one, that he did not hear Doña
Victorina name him.
"Señor Linares," said the curate, calling him out of his abstraction,
"here comes Padre Damaso."
It was indeed Padre Damaso, but pale and rather sad. On leaving his
bed his first visit was for Maria Clara. Nor was it the Padre Damaso
of former times, hearty and self-confident; now he moved silently
and with some hesitation.
CHAPTER XLIII
Plans
Without heeding any of the bystanders, Padre Damaso went directly
to the bed of the sick girl and taking her hand said to her with
ineffable tenderness, while tears sprang into his eyes, "Maria,
my daughter, you mustn't die!"
The sick girl opened her eyes and stared at him with a strange
expression. No one who knew the Franciscan had suspected in him such
tender feelings, no one had believed that under his rude and rough
exterior there might beat a heart. Unable to go on, he withdrew from
the girl's side, weeping like a child, and went outside under the
favorite vines of Maria Clara's balcony to give free rein to his grief.
"How he loves his goddaughter!" thought all present, while Fray Salvi
gazed at him motionlessly and in silence, lightly gnawing his lips
the while.
When he had become somewhat calm again Doña Victorina introduced
Linares, who approached him respectfully. Fray Damaso silently looked
him over from head to foot, took the letter offered and read it,
but apparently without understanding, for he asked, "And who are you?"
"Alfonso Linares, the godson of your brother-in-law," stammered the
young man.
Padre Damaso threw back his body and looked the youth over again
carefully. Then his features lighted up and he arose. "So you are the
godson of Carlicos!" he exclaimed. "Come and let me embrace you! I
got your letter several days ago. So it's you! I didn't recognize
you,--which is easily explained, for you weren't born when I left the
country,--I didn't recognize you!" Padre Damaso squeezed his robust
arms about the young man, who became very red, whether from modesty
or lack of breath is not known.
After the first moments of effusion had passed and inquiries about
Carlicos and his wife had been made and answered, Padre Damaso asked,
"Come now, what does Carlicos want me to do for you?"
"I believe he says something about that in the letter," Linares
again stammered.
"In the letter? Let's see! That's right! He wants me to get you a job
and a wife. Ahem! A job, a job that's easy! Can you read and write?"
"I received my degree of law from the University."
"_Carambas!_ So you're a pettifogger! You don't show it; you look
more like a shy maiden. So much the better! But to get you a wife--"
"Padre, I'm not in such a great hurry," interrupted Linares in
confusion.
But Padre Damaso was already pacing from one end of the hallway to
the other, muttering, "A wife, a wife!" His countenance was no longer
sad or merry but now wore an expression of great seriousness, while
he seemed to be thinking deeply. Padre Salvi gazed on the scene from
a distance.
"I didn't think that the matter would trouble me so much," murmured
Padre Damaso in a tearful voice. "But of two evils, the lesser!" Then
raising his voice he approached Linares and said to him, "Come, boy,
let's talk to Santiago."
Linares turned pale and allowed himself to be dragged along by the
priest, who moved thoughtfully. Then it was Padre Salvi's turn to
pace back and forth, pensive as ever.
A voice wishing him good morning drew him from his monotonous walk. He
raised his head and saw Lucas, who saluted him humbly.
"What do you want?" questioned the curate's eyes.
"Padre, I'm the brother of the man who was killed on the day of the
fiesta," began Lucas in tearful accents.
The curate recoiled and murmured in a scarcely audible voice, "Well?"
Lucas made an effort to weep and wiped his eyes with a
handkerchief. "Padre," he went on tearfully, "I've been to Don
Crisostomo to ask for an indemnity. First he received me with kicks,
saying that he wouldn't pay anything since he himself had run the risk
of getting killed through the fault of my dear, unfortunate brother. I
went to talk to him yesterday, but he had gone to Manila. He left
me five hundred pesos for charity's sake and charged me not to come
back again. Ah, Padre, five hundred pesos for my poor brother--five
hundred pesos! Ah, Padre--"
At first the curate had listened with surprise and attention while
his lips curled slightly with a smile of such disdain and sarcasm
at the sight of this farce that, had Lucas noticed it, he would have
run away at top speed. "Now what do you want?" he asked, turning away.
"Ah, Padre, tell me for the love of God what I ought to do. The padre
has always given good advice."
"Who told you so? You don't belong in these parts."
"The padre is known all over the province."
With irritated looks Padre Salvi approached him and pointing to the
street said to the now startled Lucas, "Go home and be thankful that
Don Crisostomo didn't have you sent to jail! Get out of here!"
Lucas forgot the part he was playing and murmured, "But I thought--"
"Get out of here!" cried Padre Salvi nervously.
"I would like to see Padre Damaso."
"Padre Damaso is busy. Get out of here!" again ordered the curate
imperiously.
Lucas went down the stairway muttering, "He's another of them--as he
doesn't pay well--the one who pays best!"
At the sound of the curate's voice all had hurried to the spot,
including Padre Damaso, Capitan Tiago, and Linares.
"An insolent vagabond who came to beg and who doesn't want to work,"
explained Padre Salvi, picking up his hat and cane to return to
the convento.
CHAPTER XLIV
An Examination of Conscience
Long days and weary nights passed at the sick girl's bed. After having
confessed herself, Maria Clara had suffered a relapse, and in her
delirium she uttered only the name of the mother whom she had never
known. But her girl friends, her father, and her aunt kept watch at
her side. Offerings and alms were sent to all the miraculous images,
Capitan Tiago vowed a gold cane to the Virgin of Antipolo, and at
length the fever began to subside slowly and regularly.
Doctor De Espadaña was astonished at the virtues of the syrup of
marshmallow and the infusion of lichen, prescriptions that he had not
varied. Doña Victorina was so pleased with her husband that one day