The Reign of Greed - 09

"Fifteen absences, fifteen absences," repeated Placido in
amazement. "I've never been absent more than four times, and with
today, perhaps five."
"Jesso, jesso, monseer," [31] replied the professor, examining the
youth over his gold eye-glasses. "You confess that you have missed
five times, and God knows if you may have missed oftener. _Atqui_,
as I rarely call the roll, every time I catch any one I put five
marks against him; _ergo_, how many are five times five? Have you
forgotten the multiplication table? Five times five?"
"Twenty-five."
"Correct, correct! Thus you've still got away with ten, because I have
caught you only three times. Huh, if I had caught you every time--Now,
how many are three times five?"
"Fifteen."
"Fifteen, right you are!" concluded the professor, closing the
register. "If you miss once more--out of doors with you, get out! Ah,
now a mark for the failure in the daily lesson."
He again opened the register, sought out the name, and entered the
mark. "Come, only one mark," he said, "since you hadn't any before."
"But, Padre," exclaimed Placido, restraining himself, "if your
Reverence puts a mark against me for failing in the lesson, your
Reverence owes it to me to erase the one for absence that you have
put against me for today."
His Reverence made no answer. First he slowly entered the mark,
then contemplated it with his head on one side,--the mark must be
artistic,--closed the register, and asked with great sarcasm, "_Abá_,
and why so, sir?"
"Because I can't conceive, Padre, how one can be absent from the
class and at the same time recite the lesson in it. Your Reverence
is saying that to be is not to be."
"_Nakú_, a metaphysician, but a rather premature one! So you can't
conceive of it, eh? _Sed patet experientia_ and _contra experientiam
negantem, fusilibus est arguendum_, do you understand? And can't
you conceive, with your philosophical head, that one can be absent
from the class and not know the lesson at the same time? Is it a fact
that absence necessarily implies knowledge? What do you say to that,
philosophaster?"
This last epithet was the drop of water that made the full cup
overflow. Placido enjoyed among his friends the reputation of being
a philosopher, so he lost his patience, threw down his book, arose,
and faced the professor.
"Enough, Padre, enough! Your Reverence can put all the marks against me
that you wish, but you haven't the right to insult me. Your Reverence
may stay with the class, I can't stand any more." Without further
farewell, he stalked away.
The class was astounded; such an assumption of dignity had scarcely
ever been seen, and who would have thought it of Placido Penitente? The
surprised professor bit his lips and shook his head threateningly as he
watched him depart. Then in a trembling voice he began his preachment
on the same old theme, delivered however with more energy and more
eloquence. It dealt with the growing arrogance, the innate ingratitude,
the presumption, the lack of respect for superiors, the pride that
the spirit of darkness infused in the young, the lack of manners,
the absence of courtesy, and so on. From this he passed to coarse
jests and sarcasm over the presumption which some good-for-nothing
"prompters" had of teaching their teachers by establishing an academy
for instruction in Castilian.
"Aha, aha!" he moralized, "those who the day before yesterday scarcely
knew how to say, 'Yes, Padre,' 'No, Padre,' now want to know more
than those who have grown gray teaching them. He who wishes to learn,
will learn, academies or no academies! Undoubtedly that fellow who
has just gone out is one of those in the project. Castilian is in good
hands with such guardians! When are you going to get the time to attend
the academy if you have scarcely enough to fulfill your duties in the
regular classes? We wish that you may all know Spanish and that you
pronounce it well, so that you won't split our ear-drums with your
twist of expression and your 'p's'; [32] but first business and then
pleasure: finish your studies first, and afterwards learn Castilian,
and all become clerks, if you so wish."
So he went on with his harangue until the bell rang and the class was
over. The two hundred and thirty-four students, after reciting their
prayers, went out as ignorant as when they went in, but breathing more
freely, as if a great weight had been lifted from them. Each youth had
lost another hour of his life and with it a portion of his dignity and
self-respect, and in exchange there was an increase of discontent,
of aversion to study, of resentment in their hearts. After all this
ask for knowledge, dignity, gratitude!
_De nobis, post haec, tristis sententia fertur_!
Just as the two hundred and thirty-four spent their class hours,
so the thousands of students who preceded them have spent theirs,
and, if matters do not mend, so will those yet to come spend theirs,
and be brutalized, while wounded dignity and youthful enthusiasm
will be converted into hatred and sloth, like the waves that become
polluted along one part of the shore and roll on one after another,
each in succession depositing a larger sediment of filth. But yet He
who from eternity watches the consequences of a deed develop like a
thread through the loom of the centuries, He who weighs the value
of a second and has ordained for His creatures as an elemental
law progress and development, He, if He is just, will demand a
strict accounting from those who must render it, of the millions of
intelligences darkened and blinded, of human dignity trampled upon
in millions of His creatures, and of the incalculable time lost and
effort wasted! And if the teachings of the Gospel are based on truth,
so also will these have to answer--the millions and millions who do
not know how to preserve the light of their intelligences and their
dignity of mind, as the master demanded an accounting from the cowardly
servant for the talent that he let be taken from him.


CHAPTER XIV
IN THE HOUSE OF THE STUDENTS

The house where Makaraig lived was worth visiting. Large and spacious,
with two entresols provided with elegant gratings, it seemed to be
a school during the first hours of the morning and pandemonium from
ten o'clock on. During the boarders' recreation hours, from the lower
hallway of the spacious entrance up to the main floor, there was a
bubbling of laughter, shouts, and movement. Boys in scanty clothing
played _sipa_ or practised gymnastic exercises on improvised trapezes,
while on the staircase a fight was in progress between eight or nine
armed with canes, sticks, and ropes, but neither attackers nor attacked
did any great damage, their blows generally falling sidewise upon the
shoulders of the Chinese pedler who was there selling his outlandish
mixtures and indigestible pastries. Crowds of boys surrounded him,
pulled at his already disordered queue, snatched pies from him,
haggled over the prices, and committed a thousand deviltries. The
Chinese yelled, swore, forswore, in all the languages he could jabber,
not omitting his own; he whimpered, laughed, pleaded, put on a smiling
face when an ugly one would not serve, or the reverse.
He cursed them as devils, savages, _no kilistanos_ [33] but that
mattered nothing. A whack would bring his face around smiling, and
if the blow fell only upon his shoulders he would calmly continue
his business transactions, contenting himself with crying out to
them that he was not in the game, but if it struck the flat basket
on which were placed his wares, then he would swear never to come
again, as he poured out upon them all the imprecations and anathemas
imaginable. Then the boys would redouble their efforts to make him
rage the more, and when at last his vocabulary was exhausted and they
were satiated with his fearful mixtures, they paid him religiously,
and sent him away happy, winking, chuckling to himself, and receiving
as caresses the light blows from their canes that the students gave
him as tokens of farewell.
Concerts on the piano and violin, the guitar, and the accordion,
alternated with the continual clashing of blades from the fencing
lessons. Around a long, wide table the students of the Ateneo prepared
their compositions or solved their problems by the side of others
writing to their sweethearts on pink perforated note-paper covered
with drawings. Here one was composing a melodrama at the side of
another practising on the flute, from which he drew wheezy notes. Over
there, the older boys, students in professional courses, who affected
silk socks and embroidered slippers, amused themselves in teasing
the smaller boys by pulling their ears, already red from repeated
fillips, while two or three held down a little fellow who yelled and
cried, defending himself with his feet against being reduced to the
condition in which he was born, kicking and howling. In one room,
around a small table, four were playing _revesino_ with laughter and
jokes, to the great annoyance of another who pretended to be studying
his lesson but who was in reality waiting his turn to play.
Still another came in with exaggerated wonder, scandalized as he
approached the table. "How wicked you are! So early in the morning
and already gambling! Let's see, let's see! You fool, take it with
the three of spades!" Closing his book, he too joined in the game.
Cries and blows were heard. Two boys were fighting in the adjoining
room--a lame student who was very sensitive about his infirmity and
an unhappy newcomer from the provinces who was just commencing his
studies. He was working over a treatise on philosophy and reading
innocently in a loud voice, with a wrong accent, the Cartesian
principle: "_Cogito, ergo sum!_"
The little lame boy (_el cojito_) took this as an insult and the others
intervened to restore peace, but in reality only to sow discord and
come to blows themselves.
In the dining-room a young man with a can of sardines, a bottle of
wine, and the provisions that he had just brought from his town, was
making heroic efforts to the end that his friends might participate
in his lunch, while they were offering in their turn heroic resistance
to his invitation. Others were bathing on the azotea, playing firemen
with the water from the well, and joining in combats with pails of
water, to the great delight of the spectators.
But the noise and shouts gradually died away with the coming of leading
students, summoned by Makaraig to report to them the progress of the
academy of Castilian. Isagani was cordially greeted, as was also the
Peninsular, Sandoval, who had come to Manila as a government employee
and was finishing his studies, and who had completely identified
himself with the cause of the Filipino students. The barriers that
politics had established between the races had disappeared in the
schoolroom as though dissolved by the zeal of science and youth.
From lack of lyceums and scientific, literary, or political centers,
Sandoval took advantage of all the meetings to cultivate his great
oratorical gifts, delivering speeches and arguing on any subject,
to draw forth applause from his friends and listeners. At that moment
the subject of conversation was the instruction in Castilian, but as
Makaraig had not yet arrived conjecture was still the order of the day.
"What can have happened?"
"What has the General decided?"
"Has he refused the permit?"
"Has Padre Irene or Padre Sibyla won?"
Such were the questions they asked one another, questions that could
be answered only by Makaraig.
Among the young men gathered together there were optimists like Isagani
and Sandoval, who saw the thing already accomplished and talked of
congratulations and praise from the government for the patriotism of
the students--outbursts of optimism that led Juanito Pelaez to claim
for himself a large part of the glory of founding the society.
All this was answered by the pessimist Pecson, a chubby youth with
a wide, clownish grin, who spoke of outside influences, whether the
Bishop A., the Padre B., or the Provincial C., had been consulted or
not, whether or not they had advised that the whole association should
be put in jail--a suggestion that made Juanito Pelaez so uneasy that
he stammered out, "_Carambas_, don't you drag me into--"
Sandoval, as a Peninsular and a liberal, became furious at
this. "But pshaw!" he exclaimed, "that is holding a bad opinion of his
Excellency! I know that he's quite a friar-lover, but in such a matter
as this he won't let the friars interfere. Will you tell me, Pecson, on
what you base your belief that the General has no judgment of his own?"
"I didn't say that, Sandoval," replied Pecson, grinning until he
exposed his wisdom-tooth. "For me the General has _his own_ judgment,
that is, the judgment of all those within his reach. That's plain!"
"You're dodging--cite me a fact, cite me a fact!" cried
Sandoval. "Let's get away from hollow arguments, from empty phrases,
and get on the solid ground of facts,"--this with an elegant
gesture. "Facts, gentlemen, facts! The rest is prejudice--I won't
call it filibusterism."
Pecson smiled like one of the blessed as he retorted, "There comes the
filibusterism. But can't we enter into a discussion without resorting
to accusations?"
Sandoval protested in a little extemporaneous speech, again demanding
facts.
"Well, not long ago there was a dispute between some private persons
and certain friars, and the acting Governor rendered a decision
that it should be settled by the Provincial of the Order concerned,"
replied Pecson, again breaking out into a laugh, as though he were
dealing with an insignificant matter, he cited names and dates,
and promised documents that would prove how justice was dispensed.
"But, on what ground, tell me this, on what ground can they refuse
permission for what plainly appears to be extremely useful and
necessary?" asked Sandoval.
Pecson shrugged his shoulders. "It's that it endangers the integrity
of the fatherland," he replied in the tone of a notary reading an
allegation.
"That's pretty good! What has the integrity of the fatherland to do
with the rules of syntax?"
"The Holy Mother Church has learned doctors--what do I know? Perhaps
it is feared that we may come to understand the laws so that we can
obey them. What will become of the Philippines on the day when we
understand one another?"
Sandoval did not relish the dialectic and jesting turn of the
conversation; along that path could rise no speech worth the
while. "Don't make a joke of things!" he exclaimed. "This is a
serious matter."
"The Lord deliver me from joking when there are friars concerned!"
"But, on what do you base--"
"On the fact that, the hours for the classes having to come at
night," continued Pecson in the same tone, as if he were quoting
known and recognized formulas, "there may be invoked as an obstacle
the immorality of the thing, as was done in the case of the school
at Malolos."
"Another! But don't the classes of the Academy of Drawing, and the
novenaries and the processions, cover themselves with the mantle
of night?"
"The scheme affects the dignity of the University," went on the chubby
youth, taking no notice of the question.
"Affects nothing! The University has to accommodate itself to the needs
of the students. And granting that, what is a university then? Is it
an institution to discourage study? Have a few men banded themselves
together in the name of learning and instruction in order to prevent
others from becoming enlightened?"
"The fact is that movements initiated from below are regarded as
discontent--"
"What about projects that come from above?" interpolated one of the
students. "There's the School of Arts and Trades!"
"Slowly, slowly, gentlemen," protested Sandoval. "I'm not a
friar-lover, my liberal views being well known, but render unto Caesar
that which is Caesar's. Of that School of Arts and Trades, of which I
have been the most enthusiastic supporter and the realization of which
I shall greet as the first streak of dawn for these fortunate islands,
of that School of Arts and Trades the friars have taken charge--"
"Or the cat of the canary, which amounts to the same thing," added
Pecson, in his turn interrupting the speech.
"Get out!" cried Sandoval, enraged at the interruption, which had
caused him to lose the thread of his long, well-rounded sentence. "As
long as we hear nothing bad, let's not be pessimists, let's not be
unjust, doubting the liberty and independence of the government."
Here he entered upon a defense in beautiful phraseology of the
government and its good intentions, a subject that Pecson dared not
break in upon.
"The Spanish government," he said among other things, "has given
you everything, it has denied you nothing! We had absolutism in
Spain and you had absolutism here; the friars covered our soil with
conventos, and conventos occupy a third part of Manila; in Spain
the garrote prevails and here the garrote is the extreme punishment;
we are Catholics and we have made you Catholics; we were scholastics
and scholasticism sheds its light in your college halls; in short,
gentlemen, we weep when you weep, we suffer when you suffer, we have
the same altars, the same courts, the same punishments, and it is
only just that we should give you our rights and our joys."
As no one interrupted him, he became more and more enthusiastic,
until he came to speak of the future of the Philippines.
"As I have said, gentlemen, the dawn is not far distant. Spain is now
breaking the eastern sky for her beloved Philippines, and the times
are changing, as I positively know, faster than we imagine. This
government, which, according to you, is vacillating and weak, should
be strengthened by our confidence, that we may make it see that it is
the custodian of our hopes. Let us remind it by our conduct (should
it ever forget itself, which I do not believe can happen) that we
have faith in its good intentions and that it should be guided by no
other standard than justice and the welfare of all the governed. No,
gentlemen," he went on in a tone more and more declamatory, "we must
not admit at all in this matter the possibility of a consultation with
other more or less hostile entities, as such a supposition would imply
our resignation to the fact. Your conduct up to the present has been
frank, loyal, without vacillation, above suspicion; you have addressed
it simply and directly; the reasons you have presented could not be
more sound; your aim is to lighten the labor of the teachers in the
first years and to facilitate study among the hundreds of students
who fill the college halls and for whom one solitary professor cannot
suffice. If up to the present the petition has not been granted, it
has been for the reason, as I feel sure, that there has been a great
deal of material accumulated, but I predict that the campaign is
won, that the summons of Makaraig is to announce to us the victory,
and tomorrow we shall see our efforts crowned with the applause and
appreciation of the country, and who knows, gentlemen, but that the
government may confer upon you some handsome decoration of merit,
benefactors as you are of the fatherland!"
Enthusiastic applause resounded. All immediately believed in the
triumph, and many in the decoration.
"Let it be remembered, gentlemen," observed Juanito, "that I was one
of the first to propose it."
The pessimist Pecson was not so enthusiastic. "Just so we don't get
that decoration on our ankles," he remarked, but fortunately for
Pelaez this comment was not heard in the midst of the applause.
When they had quieted down a little, Pecson replied, "Good, good,
very good, but one supposition: if in spite of all that, the General
consults and consults and consults, and afterwards refuses the permit?"
This question fell like a dash of cold water. All turned to Sandoval,
who was taken aback. "Then--" he stammered.
"Then?"
"Then," he exclaimed in a burst of enthusiasm, still excited by the
applause, "seeing that in writing and in printing it boasts of desiring
your enlightenment, and yet hinders and denies it when called upon to
make it a reality--then, gentlemen, your efforts will not have been
in vain, you will have accomplished what no one else has been able
to do. Make them drop the mask and fling down the gauntlet to you!"
"Bravo, bravo!" cried several enthusiastically.
"Good for Sandoval! Hurrah for the gauntlet!" added others.
"Let them fling down the gauntlet to us!" repeated Pecson
disdainfully. "But afterwards?"
Sandoval seemed to be cut short in his triumph, but with the vivacity
peculiar to his race and his oratorical temperament he had an
immediate reply.
"Afterwards?" he asked. "Afterwards, if none of the Filipinos dare
to accept the challenge, then I, Sandoval, in the name of Spain, will
take up the gauntlet, because such a policy would give the lie to the
good intentions that she has always cherished toward her provinces,
and because he who is thus faithless to the trust reposed in him and
abuses his unlimited authority deserves neither the protection of
the fatherland nor the support of any Spanish citizen!"
The enthusiasm of his hearers broke all bounds. Isagani embraced him,
the others following his example. They talked of the fatherland,
of union, of fraternity, of fidelity. The Filipinos declared that
if there were only Sandovals in Spain all would be Sandovals in the
Philippines. His eyes glistened, and it might well be believed that if
at that moment any kind of gauntlet had been flung at him he would have
leaped upon any kind of horse to ride to death for the Philippines.
The "cold water" alone replied: "Good, that's very good, Sandoval. I
could also say the same if I were a Peninsular, but not being one,
if I should say one half of what you have, you yourself would take
me for a filibuster."
Sandoval began a speech in protest, but was interrupted.
"Rejoice, friends, rejoice! Victory!" cried a youth who entered at
that moment and began to embrace everybody.
"Rejoice, friends! Long live the Castilian tongue!"
An outburst of applause greeted this announcement. They fell to
embracing one another and their eyes filled with tears. Pecson alone
preserved his skeptical smile.
The bearer of such good news was Makaraig, the young man at the head
of the movement. This student occupied in that house, by himself, two
rooms, luxuriously furnished, and had his servant and a cochero to look
after his carriage and horses. He was of robust carriage, of refined
manners, fastidiously dressed, and very rich. Although studying law
only that he might have an academic degree, he enjoyed a reputation for
diligence, and as a logician in the scholastic way had no cause to envy
the most frenzied quibblers of the University faculty. Nevertheless
he was not very far behind in regard to modern ideas and progress,
for his fortune enabled him to have all the books and magazines that a
watchful censor was unable to keep out. With these qualifications and
his reputation for courage, his fortunate associations in his earlier
years, and his refined and delicate courtesy, it was not strange that
he should exercise such great influence over his associates and that
he should have been chosen to carry out such a difficult undertaking
as that of the instruction in Castilian.
After the first outburst of enthusiasm, which in youth always takes
hold in such exaggerated forms, since youth finds everything beautiful,
they wanted to be informed how the affair had been managed.
"I saw Padre Irene this morning," said Makaraig with a certain air
of mystery.
"Hurrah for Padre Irene!" cried an enthusiastic student.
"Padre Irene," continued Makaraig, "has told me about everything that
took place at Los Baños. It seems that they disputed for at least
a week, he supporting and defending our case against all of them,
against Padre Sibyla, Padre Fernandez, Padre Salvi, the General,
the jeweler Simoun--"
"The jeweler Simoun!" interrupted one of his listeners. "What has that
Jew to do with the affairs of our country? We enrich him by buying--"
"Keep quiet!" admonished another impatiently, anxious to learn how
Padre Irene had been able to overcome such formidable opponents.
"There were even high officials who were opposed to our project,
the Head Secretary, the Civil Governor, Quiroga the Chinaman--"
"Quiroga the Chinaman! The pimp of the--"
"Shut up!"
"At last," resumed Makaraig, "they were going to pigeonhole the
petition and let it sleep for months and months, when Padre Irene
remembered the Superior Commission of Primary Instruction and proposed,
since the matter concerned the teaching of the Castilian tongue,
that the petition be referred to that body for a report upon it."
"But that Commission hasn't been in operation for a long time,"
observed Pecson.
"That's exactly what they replied to Padre Irene, and he answered
that this was a good opportunity to revive it, and availing himself
of the presence of Don Custodio, one of its members, he proposed on
the spot that a committee should be appointed. Don Custodio's activity
being known and recognized, he was named as arbiter and the petition
is now in his hands. He promised that he would settle it this month."
"Hurrah for Don Custodio!"
"But suppose Don Custodio should report unfavorably upon it?" inquired
the pessimist Pecson.
Upon this they had not reckoned, being intoxicated with the thought
that the matter would not be pigeonholed, so they all turned to
Makaraig to learn how it could be arranged.
"The same objection I presented to Padre Irene, but with his sly smile
he said to me: 'We've won a great deal, we have succeeded in getting
the matter on the road to a decision, the opposition sees itself
forced to join battle.' If we can bring some influence to bear upon
Don Custodio so that he, in accordance with his liberal tendencies,
may report favorably, all is won, for the General showed himself to
be absolutely neutral."
Makaraig paused, and an impatient listener asked, "How can we
influence him?"
"Padre Irene pointed out to me two ways--"
"Quiroga," some one suggested.
"Pshaw, great use Quiroga--"
"A fine present."
"No, that won't do, for he prides himself upon being incorruptible."
"Ah, yes, I know!" exclaimed Pecson with a laugh. "Pepay the dancing
girl."
"Ah, yes, Pepay the dancing girl," echoed several.
This Pepay was a showy girl, supposed to be a great friend of
Don Custodio. To her resorted the contractors, the employees, the
intriguers, when they wanted to get something from the celebrated
councilor. Juanito Pelaez, who was also a great friend of the dancing
girl, offered to look after the matter, but Isagani shook his head,
saying that it was sufficient that they had made use of Padre Irene
and that it would be going too far to avail themselves of Pepay in
such an affair.
"Show us the other way."
"The other way is to apply to his attorney and adviser, Señor Pasta,
the oracle before whom Don Custodio bows."
"I prefer that," said Isagani. "Señor Pasta is a Filipino, and was
a schoolmate of my uncle's. But how can we interest him?"
"There's the _quid_," replied Makaraig, looking earnestly at
Isagani. "Señor Pasta has a dancing girl--I mean, a seamstress."
Isagani again shook his head.
"Don't be such a puritan," Juanito Pelaez said to him. "The end
justifies the means! I know the seamstress, Matea, for she has a shop
where a lot of girls work."
"No, gentlemen," declared Isagani, "let's first employ decent
methods. I'll go to Señor Pasta and, if I don't accomplish anything,
then you can do what you wish with the dancing girls and seamstresses."