The Social Cancer: A Complete English Version of Noli Me Tangere
accumulating a little capital. He was still young, he thought his
sorrows buried in the past, and he dreamed of a happy future. His
pleasant appearance, his youth, and his somewhat unfortunate condition
won him the love of a young woman of the town, but he dared not ask
for her hand from fear that his past might become known. But love
is stronger than anything else and they wandered from the straight
path, so, to save the woman's honor, he risked everything by asking
for her in marriage. The records were sought and his whole past
became known. The girl's father was rich and succeeded in having him
prosecuted. He did not try to defend himself but admitted everything,
and so was sent to prison. The woman gave birth to twins, a boy and a
girl, who were nurtured in secret and made to believe that their father
was dead no difficult matter, since at a tender age they saw their
mother die, and they gave little thought to tracing genealogies. As our
maternal grandfather was rich our childhood passed happily. My sister
and I were brought up together, loving one another as only twins can
love when they have no other affections. When quite young I was sent
to study in the Jesuit College, and my sister, in order that we might
not be completely separated, entered the Concordia College. [135] After
our brief education was finished, since we desired only to be farmers,
we returned to the town to take possession of the inheritance left
us by our grandfather. We lived happily for a time, the future smiled
on us, we had many servants, our' fields produced abundant harvests,
and my sister was about to be married to a young man whom she adored
and who responded equally to her affection.
"But in a dispute over money and by reason of my haughty disposition
at that time, I alienated the good will of a distant relative, and
one day he east in my face my doubtful birth and shameful descent. I
thought it all a slander and demanded satisfaction. The tomb which
covered so much rottenness was again opened and to my consternation
the whole truth came out to overwhelm me. To add to our sorrow, we
had had for many years an old servant who had endured all my whims
without ever leaving us, contenting himself merely with weeping and
groaning at the rough jests of the other servants. I don't know how my
relative had found it out, but the fact is that he had this old man
summoned into court and made him tell the truth: that old servant,
who had clung to his beloved children, and whom I had abused many
times, was my father! Our happiness faded away, I gave up our fortune,
my sister lost her betrothed, and with our father we left the town
to seek refuge elsewhere. The thought that he had contributed to
our misfortunes shortened the old man's days, but before he died I
learned from his lips the whole story of the sorrowful past.
"My sister and I were left alone. She wept a great deal, but even
in the midst of such great sorrows as heaped themselves upon us,
she could not forget her love. Without complaining, without uttering
a word, she saw her former sweetheart married to another girl, but I
watched her gradually sicken without being able to console her. One
day she disappeared, and it was in vain that I sought everywhere,
in vain I made inquiries about her. About six months afterwards I
learned that about that time, after a flood on the lake, there had
been found in some rice fields bordering on the beach at Kalamba,
the corpse of a young woman who had been either drowned or murdered,
for she had had, so they said, a knife sticking in her breast. The
officials of that town published the fact in the country round about,
but no one came to claim the body, no young woman apparently had
disappeared. From the description they gave me afterward of her dress,
her ornaments, the beauty of her countenance, and her abundant hair,
I recognized in her my poor sister.
"Since then I have wandered from province to province. My reputation
and my history are in the mouths of many. They attribute great deeds
to me, sometimes calumniating me, but I pay little attention to men,
keeping ever on my way. Such in brief is my story, a story of one of
the judgments of men."
Elias fell silent as he rowed along.
"I still believe that you are not wrong," murmured Crisostomo in a low
voice, "when you say that justice should seek to do good by rewarding
virtue and educating the criminals. Only, it's impossible, Utopian! And
where could be secured so much money, so many new employees?"
"For what, then, are the priests who proclaim their mission of peace
and charity? Is it more meritorious to moisten the head of a child
with water, to give it salt to eat, than to awake in the benighted
conscience of a criminal that spark which God has granted to every
man to light him to his welfare? Is it more humane to accompany
a criminal to the scaffold than to lead him along the difficult
path from vice to virtue? Don't they also pay spies, executioners,
civil-guards? These things, besides being dirty, also cost money."
"My friend, neither you nor I, although we may wish it, can accomplish
this."
"Alone, it is true, we are nothing, but take up the cause of the
people, unite yourself with the people, be not heedless of their
cries, set an example to the rest, spread the idea of what is called
a fatherland!"
"What the people ask for is impossible. We must wait."
"Wait! To wait means to suffer!"
"If I should ask for it, the powers that be would laugh at me."
"But if the people supported you?"
"Never! I will never be the one to lead the multitude to get by force
what the government does not think proper to grant, no! If I should
ever see that multitude armed I would place myself on the side of the
government, for in such a mob I should not see my countrymen. I desire
the country's welfare, therefore I would build a schoolhouse. I seek
it by means of instruction, by progressive advancement; without light
there is no road."
"Neither is there liberty without strife!" answered Elias.
"The fact is that I don't want that liberty!"
"The fact is that without liberty there is no light," replied the
pilot with warmth. "You say that you are only slightly acquainted
with your country, and I believe you. You don't see the struggle that
is preparing, you don't see the cloud on the horizon. The fight is
beginning in the sphere of ideas, to descend later into the arena,
which will be dyed with blood. I hear the voice of God--woe unto them
who would oppose it! For them History has not been written!"
Elias was transfigured; standing uncovered, with his manly face
illuminated by the moon, there was something extraordinary about
him. He shook his long hair, and went on:
"Don't you see how everything is awakening? The sleep has lasted for
centuries, but one day the thunderbolt [136] struck, and in striking,
infused life. Since then new tendencies are stirring our spirits,
and these tendencies, today scattered, will some day be united, guided
by the God who has not failed other peoples and who will not fail us,
for His cause is the cause of liberty!"
A solemn silence followed these words, while the banka, carried along
insensibly by the waves, neared the shore.
Elias was the first to break the silence. "What shall I tell those
who sent me?" he asked with a change from his former tone.
"I've already told you: I greatly deplore their condition, but
they should wait. Evils are not remedied by other evils, and in our
misfortunes each of us has his share of blame."
Elias did not again reply, but dropped his head and rowed along until
they reached the shore, where he took leave of Ibarra: "I thank you,
sir, for the condescension you have shown me. Now, for your own good,
I beg of you that in the future you forget me and that you do not
recognize me again, no matter in what situation you may find me."
So saying, he drew away in the banka, rowing toward a thicket on the
shore. As he covered the long distance he remained silent, apparently
intent upon nothing but the thousands of phosphorescent diamonds
that the oar caught up and dropped back into the lake, where they
disappeared mysteriously into the blue waves.
When he had reached the shadow of the thicket a man came out of it
and approached the banka. "What shall I tell the capitan?" he asked.
"Tell him that Elias, if he lives, will keep his word," was the
sad answer.
"When will you join us, then?"
"When your capitan thinks that the hour of danger has come."
"Very well. Good-by!"
"If I don't die first," added Elias in a low voice.
CHAPTER LI
Exchanges
The bashful Linares was anxious and ill at ease. He had just received
from Doña Victorina a letter which ran thus:
DEER COZIN within 3 days i expec to here from you if the
alferes has killed you or you him i dont want anuther day to
pass befour that broot has his punishment if that tim passes
an you havent challenjed him ill tel don santiago you was
never segretary nor joked with canobas nor went on a spree
with the general don arseño martinez ill tel clarita its all
a humbug an ill not give you a sent more if you challenje him
i promis all you want so lets see you challenje him i warn you
there must be no excuses nor delays yore cozin who loves you
VICTORINA DE LOS REYES DE DE ESPADAÑA
sampaloc monday 7 in the evening
The affair was serious. He was well enough acquainted with the
character of Doña Victorina to know what she was capable of. To talk
to her of reason was to talk of honesty and courtesy to a revenue
carbineer when he proposes to find contraband where there is none,
to plead with her would be useless, to deceive her worse--there was
no way out of the difficulty but to send the challenge.
"But how? Suppose he receives me with violence?" he soliloquized,
as he paced to and fro. "Suppose I find him with his señora? Who will
be willing to be my second? The curate? Capitan Tiago? Damn the hour
in which I listened to her advice! The old toady! To oblige me to
get myself tangled up, to tell lies, to make a blustering fool of
myself! What will the young lady say about me? Now I'm sorry that
I've been secretary to all the ministers!"
While the good Linares was in the midst of his soliloquy, Padre Salvi
came in. The Franciscan was even thinner and paler than usual, but his
eyes gleamed with a strange light and his lips wore a peculiar smile.
"Señor Linares, all alone?" was his greeting as he made his way to
the sala, through the half-opened door of which floated the notes
from a piano. Linares tried to smile.
"Where is Don Santiago?" continued the curate.
Capitan Tiago at that moment appeared, kissed the curate's hand, and
relieved him of his hat and cane, smiling all the while like one of
the blessed.
"Come, come!" exclaimed the curate, entering the sala, followed by
Linares and Capitan Tiago, "I have good news for you all. I've just
received letters from Manila which confirm the one Señor Ibarra
brought me yesterday. So, Don Santiago, the objection is removed."
Maria Clara, who was seated at the piano between her two friends,
partly rose, but her strength failed her, and she fell back
again. Linares turned pale and looked at Capitan Tiago, who dropped
his eyes.
"That young man seems to me to be very agreeable," continued the
curate. "At first I misjudged him--he's a little quick-tempered--but
he knows so well how to atone for his faults afterwards that one
can't hold anything against him. If it were not for Padre Damaso--"
Here the curate shot a quick glance at Maria Clara, who was listening
without taking her eyes off the sheet of music, in spite of the sly
pinches of Sinang, who was thus expressing her joy--had she been
alone she would have danced.