The Social Cancer - 18

glance a youth who was following them.
"He's--he's a cousin of mine," she answered with some agitation.
"And the other?"
"He's no cousin of mine," put in Sinang merrily. "He's my uncle's son."
They passed in front of the parish rectory, which was not one of the
least animated buildings. Sinang was unable to repress an exclamation
of surprise on seeing the lamps burning, those lamps of antique
pattern which Padre Salvi had never allowed to be lighted, in order
not to waste kerosene. Loud talk and resounding bursts of laughter
might be heard as the friars moved slowly about, nodding their heads
in unison with the big cigars that adorned their lips. The laymen
with them, who from their European garments appeared to be officials
and employees of the province, were endeavoring to imitate whatever
the good priests did. Maria Clara made out the rotund figure of Padre
Damaso at the side of the trim silhouette of Padre Sibyla. Motionless
in his place stood the silent and mysterious Fray Salvi.
"He's sad," observed Sinang, "for he's thinking about how much so
many visitors are going to cost. But you'll see how he'll not pay
it himself, but the sacristans will. His visitors always eat at
other places."
"Sinang!" scolded Victoria.
"I haven't been able to endure him since he tore up the _Wheel of
Fortune_. I don't go to confession to him any more."
Of all the houses one only was to be noticed without lights and with
all the windows closed--that of the alferez. Maria Clara expressed
surprise at this.
"The witch! The Muse of the Civil Guard, as the old man says,"
exclaimed the irrepressible Sinang. "What has she to do with our
merrymakings? I imagine she's raging! But just let the cholera come
and you'd see her give a banquet."
"But, Sinang!" again her cousin scolded.
"I never was able to endure her and especially since she disturbed our
picnic with her civil-guards. If I were the Archbishop I'd marry Her
to Padre Salvi--then think what children! Look how she tried to arrest
the poor pilot, who threw himself into the water simply to please--"
She was not allowed to finish, for in the corner of the plaza
where a blind man was singing to the accompaniment of a guitar,
a curious spectacle was presented. It was a man miserably dressed,
wearing a broad salakot of palm leaves. His clothing consisted of a
ragged coat and wide pantaloons, like those worn by the Chinese, torn
in many places. Wretched sandals covered his feet. His countenance
remained hidden in the shadow of his wide hat, but from this shadow
there flashed intermittently two burning rays. Placing a flat basket
on the ground, he would withdraw a few paces and utter strange,
incomprehensible sounds, remaining the while standing entirely alone as
if he and the crowd were mutually avoiding each other. Then some women
would approach the basket and put into it fruit, fish, or rice. When
no one any longer approached, from the shadows would issue sadder
but less pitiful sounds, cries of gratitude perhaps. Then he would
take up the basket and make his way to another place to repeat the
same performance.
Maria Clara divined that there must be some misfortune there, and
full of interest she asked concerning the strange creature.
"He's a leper," Iday told her. "Four years ago he contracted the
disease, some say from taking care of his mother, others from lying
in a damp prison. He lives in the fields near the Chinese cemetery,
having intercourse with no one, because all flee from him for fear of
contagion. If you might only see his home! It's a tumbledown shack,
through which the wind and rain pass like a needle through cloth. He
has been forbidden to touch anything belonging to the people. One day
when a little child fell into a shallow ditch as he was passing,
he helped to get it out. The child's father complained to the
gobernadorcillo, who ordered that the leper be flogged through the
streets and that the rattan be burned afterwards. It was horrible! The
leper fled with his flogger in pursuit, while the gobernadorcillo
cried, 'Catch him! Better be drowned than get the disease you have!'"
"Can it be true!" murmured Maria Clara, then, without saying what she
was about to do, went up to the wretch's basket and dropped into it
the locket her father had given her.
"What have you done?" her friends asked.
"I hadn't anything else," she answered, trying to conceal her tears
with a smile.
"What is he going to do with your locket?" Victoria asked her. "One
day they gave him some money, but he pushed it away with a stick;
why should he want it when no one accepts anything that comes from
him? As if the locket could be eaten!"
Maria Clara gazed enviously at the women who were selling food-stuffs
and shrugged her shoulders. The leper approached the basket, picked
up the jeweled locket, which glittered in his hands, then fell upon
his knees, kissed it, and taking off his salakot buried his forehead
in the dust where the maiden had stepped. Maria Clara hid her face
behind her fan and raised her handkerchief to her eyes.
Meanwhile, a poor woman had approached the leper, who seemed to be
praying. Her long hair was loose and unkempt, and in the light of
the torches could be recognized the extremely emaciated features of
the crazy Sisa. Feeling the touch of her hand, the leper jumped up
with a cry, but to the horror of the onlooker's Sisa caught him by
the arm and said:
"Let us pray, let us pray! Today is All Souls' day! Those lights are
the souls of men! Let us pray for my sons!"
"Separate them! Separate them! The madwoman will get the
disease!" cried the crowd, but no one dared to go near them.
"Do you see that light in the tower? That is my son Basilio sliding
down a rope! Do you see that light in the convento? That is my son
Crispin! But I'm not going to see them because the curate is sick
and had many gold pieces and the gold pieces are lost! Pray, let us
pray for the soul of the curate! I took him the finest fruits, for
my garden was full of flowers and I had two sons! I had a garden,
I used to take care of my flowers, and I had two sons!"
Then releasing her hold of the leper, she ran away singing, "I had
a garden and flowers, I had two sons, a garden, and flowers!"
"What have you been able to do for that poor woman?" Maria Clara
asked Ibarra.
"Nothing! Lately she has been missing from the totem and wasn't to
be found," answered the youth, rather confusedly. "Besides, I have
been very busy. But don't let it trouble you. The curate has promised
to help me, but advised that I proceed with great tact and caution,
for the Civil Guard seems to be mixed up in it. The curate is greatly
interested in her case."
"Didn't the alferez say that he would have search made for her sons?"
"Yes, but at the time he was somewhat--drunk." Scarcely had he said
this when they saw the crazy woman being led, or rather dragged along,
by a soldier. Sisa was offering resistance.
"Why are you arresting her? What has she done?" asked Ibarra.
"Why, haven't you seen how she's been raising a disturbance?" was
the reply of the guardian of the public peace.
The leper caught up his basket hurriedly and ran away.
Maria Clara wanted to go home, as she had lost all her mirth and good
humor. "So there are people who are not happy," she murmured. Arriving
at her door, she felt her sadness increase when her fiancé declined
to go in, excusing himself on the plea of necessity. Maria Clara went
upstairs thinking what a bore are the fiesta days, when strangers
make their visits.


CHAPTER XXVIII
Correspondence
Cada uno habla de la feria como le va en ella. [82]

As nothing of importance to our characters happened during the
first two days, we should gladly pass on to the third and last,
were it not that perhaps some foreign reader may wish to know how the
Filipinos celebrate their fiestas. For this reason we shall faithfully
reproduce in this chapter several letters, one of them being that
of the correspondent of a noted Manila newspaper, respected for its
grave tone and deep seriousness. Our readers will correct some natural
and trifling slips of the pen. Thus the worthy correspondent of the
respectable newspaper wrote:

"TO THE EDITOR, MY DISTINGUISHED FRIEND,--Never did I witness,
nor had I ever expected to see in the provinces, a religious
fiesta so solemn, so splendid, and so impressive as that
now being celebrated in this town by the Most Reverend and
virtuous Franciscan Fathers.
"Great crowds are in attendance. I have here had the pleasure
of greeting nearly all the Spaniards who reside in this
province, three Reverend Augustinian Fathers from the province
of Batangas, and two Reverend Dominican Fathers. One of the
latter is the Very Reverend Fray Hernando Sibyla, who has come
to honor this town with his presence, a distinction which its
worthy inhabitants should never forget. I have also seen a
great number of the best people of Cavite and Pampanga, many
wealthy persons from Manila, and many bands of music,--among
these the very artistic one of Pagsanhan belonging to
the escribano, Don Miguel Guevara,--swarms of Chinamen and
Indians, who, with the curiosity of the former and the piety
of the latter, awaited anxiously the day on which was to be
celebrated the comic-mimic-lyric-lightning-change-dramatic
spectacle, for which a large and spacious theater had been
erected in the middle of the plaza.
"At nine on the night of the 10th, the eve of the fiesta,
after a succulent dinner set before us by the _hermano mayor_,
the attention of all the Spaniards and friars in the convento
was attracted by strains of music from a surging multitude
which, with the noise of bombs and rockets, preceded by
the leading citizens of the town, came to the convento to
escort us to the place prepared and arranged for us that we
might witness the spectacle. Such a courteous offer we had to
accept, although I should have preferred to rest in the arms
of Morpheus and repose my weary limbs, which were aching,
thanks to the joltings of the vehicle furnished us by the
gobernadorcillo of B----.
"Accordingly we joined them and proceeded to look for our
companions, who were dining in the house, owned here by the
pious and wealthy Don Santiago de los Santos. The curate of
the town, the Very Reverend Fray Bernardo Salvi, and the Very
Reverend Fray Damaso Verdolagas, who is now by the special
favor of Heaven recovered from the suffering caused him by
an impious hand, in company with the Very Reverend Fray
Hernando Sibyla and the virtuous curate of Tanawan, with
other Spaniards, were guests in the house of the Filipino
Croesus. There we had the good fortune of admiring not only
the luxury and good taste of the host, which are not usual
among the natives, but also the beauty of the charming
and wealthy heiress, who showed herself to be a polished
disciple of St. Cecelia by playing on her elegant piano,
with a mastery that recalled Galvez to me, the best German
and Italian compositions. It is a matter of regret that such
a charming young lady should be so excessively modest as to
hide her talents from a society which has only admiration
for her. Nor should I leave unwritten that in the house
of our host there were set before us champagne and fine
liqueurs with the profusion and splendor that characterize
the well-known capitalist.
"We attended the spectacle. You already know our artists,
Ratia, Carvajal, and Fernandez, whose cleverness was
comprehended by us alone, since the uncultured crowd did
not understand a jot of it. Chananay and Balbino were very
good, though a little hoarse; the latter made one break,
but together, and as regards earnest effort, they were
admirable. The Indians were greatly pleased with the Tagalog
drama, especially the gobernadorcillo, who rubbed his hands
and informed us that it was a pity that they had not made the
princess join in combat with the giant who had stolen her
away, which in his opinion would have been more marvelous,
especially if the giant had been represented as vulnerable
only in the navel, like a certain Ferragus of whom the stories
of the Paladins tell. The Very Reverend Fray Damaso, in his
customary goodness of heart, concurred in this opinion, and
added that in such case the princess should be made to discover
the giant's weak spot and give him the _coup de grace_.
"Needless to tell you that during the show the affability
of the Filipino Rothschild allowed nothing to be lacking:
ice-cream, lemonade, wines, and refreshments of all kinds
circulated profusely among us. A matter of reasonable and
special note was the absence of the well-known and cultured
youth, Don Juan Crisostomo Ibarra, who, as you know, will
tomorrow preside at the laying of the corner-stone for the
great edifice which he is so philanthropically erecting. This
worthy descendant of the Pelayos and Elcanos (for I have
learned that one of his paternal ancestors was from our heroic
and noble northern provinces, perhaps one of the companions
of Magellan or Legazpi) did not show himself during the
entire day, owing to a slight indisposition. His name runs
from mouth to mouth, being uttered with praises that can only
reflect glory upon Spain and true Spaniards like ourselves,
who never deny our blood, however mixed it may be.
"Today, at eleven o'clock in the morning, we attended a
deeply-moving spectacle. Today, as is generally known, is
the fiesta of the Virgin of Peace and is being observed by
the Brethren of the Holy Rosary. Tomorrow will occur the
fiesta of the patron, San Diego, and it will be observed
principally by the Venerable Tertiary Order. Between these
two societies there exists a pious rivalry in serving God,
which piety has reached the extreme of holy quarrels among
them, as has just happened in the dispute over the preacher of
acknowledged fame, the oft-mentioned Very Reverend Fray Damaso,
who tomorrow will occupy the pulpit of the Holy Ghost with
a sermon, which, according to general expectation, will be
a literary and religious event.
"So, _as we were saying_, we attended a highly edifying
and moving spectacle. Six pious youths, three to recite the
mass and three for acolytes, marched out of the sacristy and
prostrated themselves before the altar, while the officiating
priest, the Very Reverend Fray Hernando Sibyla, chanted the
_Surge Domine_--the signal for commencing the procession
around the church--with the magnificent voice and religious
unction that all recognize and that make him so worthy of
general admiration. When the _Surge Domine_ was concluded,
the gobernadorcillo, in a frock coat, carrying the standard
and followed by four acolytes with incense-burners, headed
the procession. Behind them came the tall silver candelabra,
the municipal corporation, the precious images dressed in satin
and gold, representing St. Dominic and the Virgin of Peace in a
magnificent blue robe trimmed with gilded silver, the gift of
the pious ex-gobernadorcillo, the so-worthy-of-being-imitated
and never-sufficiently-praised Don Santiago de los Santos. All
these images were borne on silver cars. Behind the Mother of
God came the Spaniards and the rest of the clergy, while the
officiating priest was protected by a canopy carried by the
cabezas de barangay, and the procession was closed by a squad
of the worthy Civil Guard. I believe it unnecessary to state
that a multitude of Indians, carrying lighted candles with
great devotion, formed the two lines of the procession. The
musicians played religious marches, while bombs and pinwheels
furnished repeated salutes. It causes admiration to see the
modesty and the fervor which these ceremonies inspire in the
hearts of the true believers, the grand, pure faith professed
for the Virgin of Peace, the solemnity and fervent devotion
with which such ceremonies are performed by those of us who
have had the good fortune to be born under the sacrosanct
and immaculate banner of Spain.
"The procession concluded, there began the mass rendered by
the orchestra and the theatrical artists. After the reading
of the Gospel, the Very Reverend Fray Manuel Martin, an
Augustinian from the province of Batangas, ascended the
pulpit and kept the whole audience enraptured and hanging
on his words, especially the Spaniards, during the exordium
in Castilian, as he spoke with vigor and in such flowing
and well-rounded periods that our hearts were filled with
fervor and enthusiasm. This indeed is the term that should
be used for what is felt, or what we feel, when the Virgin
of our beloved Spain is considered, and above all when there
can be intercalated in the text, if the subject permits,
the ideas of a prince of the Church, the _Señor Monescillo_,
[83] which are surely those of all Spaniards.
"At the conclusion of the services all of us went up into
the convento with the leading citizens of the town and other
persons of note. There we were especially honored by the
refinement, attention, and prodigality that characterize the
Very Reverend Fray Salvi, there being set before us cigars
and an abundant lunch which the _hermano mayor_ had prepared
under the convento for all who might feel the necessity for
appeasing the cravings of their stomachs.
"During the day nothing has been lacking to make the fiesta
joyous and to preserve the animation so characteristic of
Spaniards, and which it is impossible to restrain on such
occasions as this, showing itself sometimes in singing and
dancing, at other times in simple and merry diversions of
so strong and noble a nature that all sorrow is driven away,
and it is enough for three Spaniards to be gathered together
in one place in order that sadness and ill-humor be banished
thence. Then homage was paid to Terpsichore in many homes,
but especially in that of the cultured Filipino millionaire,
where we were all invited to dine. Needless to say, the
banquet, which was sumptuous and elegantly served, was a
second edition of the wedding-feast in Cana, or of Camacho,
[84] corrected and enlarged. While we were enjoying the meal,
which was directed by a cook from 'La Campana,' an orchestra
played harmonious melodies. The beautiful young lady of the
house, in a mestiza gown [85] and a cascade of diamonds,
was as ever the queen of the feast.. All of us deplored from
the bottom of our hearts a light sprain in her shapely foot
that deprived her of the pleasures of the dance, for if we
have to judge by her other conspicuous perfections, the young
lady must dance like a sylph.
"The alcalde of the province arrived this afternoon for
the purpose of honoring with his presence the ceremony of
tomorrow. He has expressed regret over the poor health of the
distinguished landlord, Señor Ibarra, who in God's mercy is
now, according to report, somewhat recovered.
"Tonight there was a solemn procession, but of that I will
speak in my letter tomorrow, because in addition to the
explosions that have bewildered me and made me somewhat deaf
I am tired and falling over with sleep. While, therefore,
I recover my strength in the arms of Morpheus--or rather on
a cot in the convento--I desire for you, my distinguished
friend, a pleasant night and take leave of you until tomorrow,
which will be the great day.

Your affectionate friend,

SAN DIEGO, November 11.

THE CORRESPONDENT."

Thus wrote the worthy correspondent. Now let us see what Capitan
Martin wrote to his friend, Luis Chiquito:

"DEAR CHOY,--Come a-running if you can, for there's something
doing at the fiesta. Just imagine, Capitan Joaquin is almost
broke. Capitan Tiago has doubled up on him three times and
won at the first turn of the cards each time, so that Capitan
Manuel, the owner of the house, is growing smaller every
minute from sheer joy. Padre Damaso smashed a lamp with his
fist because up to now he hasn't won on a single card. The
Consul has lost on his cocks and in the bank all that he won
from us at the fiesta of Biñan and at that of the Virgin of
the Pillar in Santa Cruz.
"We expected Capitan Tiago to bring us his future son-in-law,
the rich heir of Don Rafael, but it seems that he wishes to
imitate his father, for he does not even show himself. It's
a pity, for it seems he never will be any use to us.
"Carlos the Chinaman is making a big fortune with the
_liam-pó_. I suspect that he carries something hidden,
probably a charm, for he complains constantly of headaches and
keeps his head bandaged, and when the wheel of the _liam-pó_
is slowing down he leans over, almost touching it, as if he
were looking at it closely. I am shocked, because I know more
stories of the same kind.
"Good-by, Choy. My birds are well and my wife is happy and
having a good time.

Your friend,

MARTIN ARISTORENAS."

Ibarra had received a perfumed note which Andeng, Maria Clara's
foster-sister, delivered to him on the evening of the first day of
the fiesta. This note said:

"CRISOSTOMO,--It has been over a day since you have shown
yourself. I have heard that you are ill and have prayed for
you and lighted two candles, although papa says that you are
not seriously ill. Last night and today I've been bored by
requests to play on the piano and by invitations to dance. I
didn't know before that there are so many tiresome people
in the world! If it were not for Padre Damaso, who tries to
entertain me by talking to me and telling me many things, I
would have shut myself up in my room and gone to sleep. Write
me what the matter is with you and I'll tell papa to visit
you. For the present I send Andeng to make you some tea,
as she knows how to prepare it well, probably better than
your servants do.

MARIA CLARA."

"P.S. If you don't come tomorrow, I won't go to the
ceremony. _Vale!_"


CHAPTER XXIX
The Morning

At the first flush of dawn bands of music awoke the tired people of the
town with lively airs. Life and movement reawakened, the bells began
to chime, and the explosions commenced. It was the last day of the
fiesta, in fact the fiesta proper. Much was hoped for, even more than
on the previous day. The Brethren of the Venerable Tertiary Order were
more numerous than those of the Holy Rosary, so they smiled piously,
secure that they would humiliate their rivals. They had purchased a
greater number of tapers, wherefor the Chinese dealers had reaped a
harvest and in gratitude were thinking of being baptized, although
some remarked that this was not so much on account of their faith in
Catholicism as from a desire to get a wife. To this the pious women
answered, "Even so, the marriage of so many Chinamen at once would
be little short of a miracle and their wives would convert them."
The people arrayed themselves in their best clothes and dragged out
from their strong-boxes all their jewelry. The sharpers and gamblers
all shone in embroidered camisas with large diamond studs, heavy
gold chains, and white straw hats. Only the old Sage went his way
as usual in his dark-striped sinamay camisa buttoned up to the neck,
loose shoes, and wide gray felt hat.
"You look sadder than ever!" the teniente-mayor accosted him. "Don't
you want us to be happy now and then, since we have so much to
weep over?"
"To be happy doesn't mean to act the fool," answered the old man. "It's
the senseless orgy of every year! And all for no end but to squander
money, when there is so much misery and want. Yes, I understand it all,
it's the same orgy, the revel to drown the woes of all."
"You know that I share your opinion, though," replied Don Filipo,
half jestingly and half in earnest. "I have defended it, but what
can one do against the gobernadorcillo and the curate?"
"Resign!" was the old man's curt answer as he moved away.
Don Filipo stood perplexed, staring after the old man. "Resign!" he
muttered as he made his way toward the church. "Resign! Yes, if this
office were an honor and not a burden, yes, I would resign."
The paved court in front of the church was filled with people; men
and women, young and old, dressed in their best clothes, all crowded
together, came and went through the wide doors. There was a smell
of powder, of flowers, of incense, and of perfumes, while bombs,
rockets, and serpent-crackers made the women run and scream, the
children laugh. One band played in front of the convento, another
escorted the town officials, and still others marched about the
streets, where floated and waved a multitude of banners. Variegated
colors and lights distracted the sight, melodies and explosions the
hearing, while the bells kept up a ceaseless chime. Moving all about
were carriages whose horses at times became frightened, frisked and
reared all of which, while not included in the program of the fiesta,
formed a show in itself, free and by no means the least entertaining.
The _hermano mayor_ for this day had sent servants to seek in the
streets for whomsoever they might invite, as did he who gave the
feast of which the Gospel tells us. Almost by force were urged
invitations to partake of chocolate, coffee, tea, and sweetmeats,
these invitations not seldom reaching the proportions of a demand.
There was to be celebrated the high mass, that known as the dalmatic,
like the one of the day before, about which the worthy correspondent
wrote, only that now the officiating priest was to be Padre Salvi,
and that the alcalde of the province, with many other Spaniards and
persons of note, was to attend it in order to hear Padre Damaso,
who enjoyed a great reputation in the province. Even the alferez,
smarting under the preachments of Padre Salvi, would also attend in
order to give evidence of his good-will and to recompense himself,
if possible, for the bad spells the curate had caused him.
Such was the reputation of Padre Damaso that the correspondent wrote
beforehand to the editor of his newspaper:

"As was announced in my badly executed account of yesterday, so it
has come to pass. We have had the especial pleasure of listening
to the Very Reverend Fray Damaso Verdolagas, former curate of this
town, recently transferred to a larger parish in recognition of
his meritorious services. The illustrious and holy orator occupied
the pulpit of the Holy Ghost and preached a most eloquent and
profound sermon, which edified and left marveling all the faithful
who had waited so anxiously to see spring from his fecund lips
the restoring fountain of eternal life. Sublimity of conception,
boldness of imagination, novelty of phraseology, gracefulness of style,
naturalness of gestures, cleverness of speech, vigor of ideas--these
are the traits of the Spanish Bossuet, who has justly earned such
a high reputation not only among the enlightened Spaniards but even
among the rude Indians and the cunning sons of the Celestial Empire."

But the confiding correspondent almost saw himself obliged to erase
what he had written. Padre Damaso complained of a cold that he had