The Social Cancer: A Complete English Version of Noli Me Tangere
the blows are more numerous, but victory still hangs in the balance. At
last, with a supreme effort, the white throws himself forward for
a final stroke, fastens his gaff in the wing of the red and catches
it between the bones. But the white himself has been wounded in the
breast and both are weak and feeble from loss of blood. Breathless,
their strength spent, caught one against the other, they remain
motionless until the white, with blood pouring from his beak, falls,
kicking his death-throes. The red remains at his side with his wing
caught, then slowly doubles up his legs and gently closes his eyes.
Then the referee, in accordance with the rule prescribed by the
government, declares the red the winner. A savage yell greets
the decision, a yell that is heard over the whole town, even and
prolonged. He who hears this from afar then knows that the winner is
the one against which the odds were placed, or the joy would not be
so lasting. The same happens with the nations: when a small one gains
a victory over a large one, it is sung and recounted from age to age.
"You see now!" said Bruno dejectedly to his brother, "if you had
listened to me we should now have a hundred pesos. You're the cause
of our being penniless."
Tarsilo did not answer, but gazed about him as if looking for some one.
"There he is, talking to Pedro," added Bruno. "He's giving him money,
lots of money!"
True it was that Lucas was counting silver coins into the hand of
Sisa's husband. The two then exchanged some words in secret and
separated, apparently satisfied.
"Pedro must have agreed. That's what it is to be decided," sighed
Bruno.
Tarsilo remained gloomy and thoughtful, wiping away with the cuff of
his camisa the perspiration that ran down his forehead.
"Brother," said Bruno, "I'm going to accept, if you don't decide. The
_law_ [129] continues, the _lásak_ must win and we ought not
to lose any chance. I want to bet on the next fight. What's the
difference? We'll revenge our father."
"Wait!" said Tarsilo, as he gazed at him fixedly, eye to eye, while
both turned pale. "I'll go with you, you're right. We'll revenge our
father." Still, he hesitated, and again wiped away the perspiration.
"What's stopping you?" asked Bruno impatiently.
"Do you know what fight comes next? Is it worth while?"
"If you think that way, no! Haven't you heard? The _bulik_ of Capitan
Basilio's against Capitan Tiago's _lásak_. According to the _law_
the _lásak_ must win."
"Ah, the _lásak_! I'd bet on it, too. But let's be sure first."
Bruno made a sign of impatience, but followed his brother, who
examined the cock, studied it, meditated and reflected, asked some
questions. The poor fellow was in doubt. Bruno gazed at him with
nervous anger.
"But don't you see that wide scale he has by the side of his
spur? Don't you see those feet? What more do you want? Look at those
legs, spread out his wings! And this split scale above this wide one,
and this double one?"
Tarsilo did not hear him, but went on examining the cock. The clinking
of gold and silver came to his ears. "Now let's look at the _bulik_,"
he said in a thick voice.
Bruno stamped on the ground and gnashed his teeth, but obeyed. They
approached another group where a cock was being prepared for the
ring. A gaff was selected, red silk thread for tying it on was waxed
and rubbed thoroughly. Tarsilo took in the creature with a gloomily
impressive gaze, as if he were not looking at the bird so much as at
something in the future. He rubbed his hand across his forehead and
said to his brother in a stifled voice, "Are you ready?"
"I? Long ago! Without looking at them!"
"But, our poor sister--"
"_Abá!_ Haven't they told you that Don Crisostomo is the leader? Didn't
you see him walking with the Captain-General? What risk do we run?"
"And if we get killed?"
"What's the difference? Our father was flogged to death!"
"You're right!"
The brothers now sought for Lucas in the different groups. As soon
as they saw him Tarsilo stopped. "No! Let's get out of here! We're
going to ruin ourselves!" he exclaimed.
"Go on if you want to! I'm going to accept!"
"Bruno!"
Unfortunately, a man approached them, saying, "Are you betting? I'm
for the _bulik!_" The brothers did not answer.
"I'll give odds!"
"How much?" asked Bruno.
The man began to count out his pesos. Bruno watched him breathlessly.
"I have two hundred. Fifty to forty!"
"No," said Bruno resolutely. "Put--"
"All right! Fifty to thirty!"
"Double it if you want to."
"All right. The _bulik_ belongs to my protector and I've just won. A
hundred to sixty!"
"Taken! Wait till I get the money."
"But I'll hold the stakes," said the other, not confiding much in
Bruno's looks.
"It's all the same to me," answered the latter, trusting to his
fists. Then turning to his brother he added, "Even if you do keep out,
I'm going in."
Tarsilo reflected: he loved his brother and liked the sport, and,
unable to desert him, he murmured, "Let it go."
They made their way to Lucas, who, on seeing them approach, smiled.
"Sir!" called Tarsilo.
"What's up?"
"How much will you give us?" asked the two brothers together.
"I've already told you. If you will undertake to get others for the
purpose of making a surprise-attack on the barracks, I'll give each
of you thirty pesos and ten pesos for each companion you bring. If
all goes well, each one will receive a hundred pesos and you double
that amount. Don Crisostomo is rich."
"Accepted!" exclaimed Bruno. "Let's have the money."
"I knew you were brave, as your father was! Come, so that those
fellows who killed him may not overhear us," said Lucas, indicating
the civil-guards.
Taking them into a corner, he explained to them while he was counting
out the money, "Tomorrow Don Crisostomo will get back with the
arms. Day after tomorrow, about eight o'clock at night, go to the
cemetery and I'll let you know the final arrangements. You have time
to look for companions."
After they had left him the two brothers seemed to have changed
parts--Tarsilo was calm, while Bruno was uneasy.
CHAPTER XLVII
The Two Señoras
While Capitan Tiago was gambling on his _lásak_, Doña Victorina was
taking a walk through the town for the purpose of observing how the
indolent Indians kept their houses and fields. She was dressed as
elegantly as possible with all her ribbons and flowers over her silk
gown, in order to impress the provincials and make them realize what a
distance intervened between them and her sacred person. Giving her arm
to her lame husband, she strutted along the streets amid the wonder
and stupefaction of the natives. Her cousin Linares had remained in
the house.
"What ugly shacks these Indians have!" she began with a grimace. "I
don't see how they can live in them--one must have to be an Indian! And
how rude they are and how proud! They don't take off their hats when
they meet us! Hit them over the head as the curates and the officers
of the Civil Guard do--teach them politeness!"
"And if they hit me back?" asked Dr. De Espadaña.
"That's what you're a man for!"
"B-but, I'm l-lame!"
Doña Victorina was falling into a bad humor. The streets were unpaved
and the train of her gown was covered with dust. Besides, they had met
a number of young women, who, in passing them, had dropped their eyes
and had not admired her rich costume as they should have done. Sinang's
cochero, who was driving Sinang and her cousin in an elegant carriage,
had the impudence to yell "_Tabi!_" in such a commanding tone that
she had to jump out of the way, and could only protest: "Look at
that brute of a cochero! I'm going to tell his master to train his
servants better."
"Let's go back to the house," she commanded to her husband, who,
fearing a storm, wheeled on his crutch in obedience to her mandate.
They met and exchanged greetings with the alferez. This increased
Doña Victorina's ill humor, for the officer not only did not proffer
any compliment on her costume, but even seemed to stare at it in a
mocking way.
"You ought not to shake hands with a mere alferez," she said to her
husband as the soldier left them. "He scarcely touched his helmet
while you took off your hat. You don't know how to maintain your rank!"
"He's the b-boss here!"
"What do we care for that? We are Indians, perhaps?"
"You're right," he assented, not caring to quarrel. They passed in
front of the officer's dwelling. Doña Consolacion was at the window,
as usual, dressed in flannel and smoking her cigar. As the house was
low, the two señoras measured one another with looks; Doña Victorina
stared while the Muse of the Civil Guard examined her from head to
foot, and then, sticking out her lower lip, turned her head away
and spat on the ground. This used up the last of Doña Victorina's
patience. Leaving her husband without support, she planted herself
in front of the alfereza, trembling with anger from head to foot and
unable to speak. Doña Consolacion slowly turned her head, calmly looked
her over again, and once more spat, this time with greater disdain.
"What's the matter with you, Doña?" she asked.
"Can you tell me, señora, why you look at me so? Are you envious?" Doña
Victorina was at length able to articulate.
"I, envious of you, I, of you?" drawled the Muse. "Yes, I envy you
those frizzes!"
"Come, woman!" pleaded the doctor. "D-don't t-take any n-notice!"
"Let me teach this shameless slattern a lesson," replied his wife,
giving him such a shove that he nearly kissed the ground. Then she
again turned to Doña Consolacion.
"Remember who you're dealing with!" she exclaimed. "Don't think that
I'm a provincial or a soldier's _querida!_ In my house in Manila the
alfereces don't eater, they wait at the door."
"Oho, _Excelentísima Señora!_ Alfereces don't enter, but cripples
do--like that one--ha, ha, ha!"
Had it not been for the rouge, Doña Victorian would have been seen to
blush. She tried to get to her antagonist, but the sentinel stopped
her. In the meantime the street was filling up with a curious crowd.
"Listen, I lower myself talking to you--people of quality--Don't you
want to wash my clothes? I'll pay you well! Do you think that I don't
know that you were a washerwoman_?_"
Doña Consolacion straightened up furiously; the remark about washing
hurt her. "Do you think that we don't know who you are and what
class of people you belong with? Get out, my husband has already
told me! Señora, I at least have never belonged to more than one,
but you? One must be dying of hunger to take the leavings, the mop
of the whole world!"
This shot found its mark with Doña Victorina. She rolled up her
sleeves, clenched her fists, and gritted her teeth. "Come down,
old sow!" she cried. "I'm going to smash that dirty mouth of
yours! _Querida_ of a battalion, filthy hag!"
The Muse immediately disappeared from the window and was soon seen
running down the stairs flourishing her husband's whip.
Don Tiburcio interposed himself supplicatingly, but they would have
come to blows had not the alferez arrived on the scene.
"Ladies! Don Tiburcio!"
"Train your woman better, buy her some decent clothes, and if you
haven't any money left, rob the people--that's what you've got soldiers
for!" yelled Doña Victorina.
"Here I am, señora! Why doesn't your Excellency smash my mouth? You're
only tongue and spittle, Doña Excelencia!"
"Señora!" cried the alferez furiously to Doña Victorina, "be
thankful that I remember that you're a woman or else I'd kick you to
pieces--frizzes, ribbons, and all!"
"S-señor Alferez!"
"Get out, you quack! You don't wear the pants!"
The women brought into play words and gestures, insults and abuse,