Friars and Filipinos
An abridged translation of
Dr. José Rizal's
Tagalog Novel, "Noli Me Tangere."
By
Frank Ernest Gannett.
New York:
The St. James Press.
Copyright, 1900,
by
Frank Ernest Gannett.
To
Jacob Gould Schurman,
President of Cornell University.
PREFACE.
While serving on the staff of the first United States Commission to the
Philippine Islands my attention was called to the life and writings
of Dr. José Rizal. I found in his novel, "Noli Me Tangere," the best
picture of the life of the people of those islands under Spanish rule,
and the clearest exposition of the governmental problems which Spain
failed to solve, and with which our own people must deal. It occurred
to me that an English translation of Rizal's work would be of great
value at the present time. My first intention was to reproduce the
entire novel as it was written, but, after careful consideration,
I thought best to abridge the story by the omission of some parts
which did not seem essential to the main purpose of the work. The
present volume is the result.
Readers should not understand any of Rizal's references to priests
and friars as reflections upon the Roman Catholic Church. He was
throughout his life an ardent Catholic, and died a firm adherent
of the Church. But he objected to the religious orders in the
Philippine Islands, because he knew well that they were more zealous
in furthering their own selfish ends than in seeking the advancement
of Christianity. From experience, Dr. Rizal knew that the friars,
under cloak of the gospel ministry, oppressed his fellow countrymen,
and took advantage of their superstition and ignorance. These wrongs
he was brave enough to expose in his writings. In the friars he saw an
obstacle to the education and enlightenment of the Filipino people,
and, using moderate means, he did his utmost to secure reform. His
writings will explain to us the cause of the hatred shown by the
Filipinos toward the religious corporations, and will make clearer
the nature of one of the present problems in the Philippines.
There are in the Philippines five religious orders: the Dominicans,
Franciscans, Recoletos, Augustines and Jesuits. According to John
Foreman, an eminent authority, the members of all of these, except
the last named, come from the lower classes in Spain, and are on
the whole comparatively ignorant and uncultured. Under the Spanish
system of government certain provinces were assigned to each of the
orders--except the Jesuits--and the friars were distributed among
the different parishes. In the town assigned to him the friar had
much authority. He was chief adviser in all civil affairs, and, by
his influence over the superstitious natives, maintained absolute
control in all matters pertaining to the local government as well
as to the local church. So firm was his hold that he led the Spanish
government to believe that the islands could not be ruled without his
aid. Knowing that his power rested on the ignorance of the people he
discouraged education among them. When native Filipinos advanced so
far as to prove an obstacle to the religious orders, as did Rizal and
many others, the friars sought to destroy them. Forgetting their holy
mission, the religious orders became commercial corporations, amassed
enormous wealth, and gained possession of the most valuable parts of
the islands, though to much of this property the titles are not clear.
From my own observation, and from information derived from the
Spaniards themselves, I am convinced that the author has not
overdrawn his pictures. In fact I have learned of instances where
the oppression and practices of the friars were even worse than those
described. Dr. Rizal has given us a portrayal of the Filipino character
from the viewpoint of the most advanced Filipino. He brings out many
facts that are pertinent to present-day questions, showing especially
the Malayan ideas of vengeance, which will put great difficulties
in the way of the pacifying of the islands by our forces. The reader
will not fail to notice the striking similarity between the life of
Ibarra, the hero, and that of Rizal, the author, a short sketch of
whose career has been given in the following pages.
For assistance in preparing this volume for publication I offer
sincere thanks to William H. Glasson, Ph.D., Instructor in History
in the George School, Newtown, Pa. Dr. Glasson has read the entire
manuscript and proofs, and I have been glad to avail myself of his
advice on many doubtful points. I desire also to acknowledge my
indebtedness for favors received to Horatio Green, Interpreter to
the Supreme Court of the Philippine Islands, to W. G. Richardson,
of New York, and to the publishers.
F. E. G.
Ithaca, N. Y., Dec. 1, 1900.
CONTENTS.
Chapter I. Page
Don Santiago's Dinner 1
Chapter II.
At the Dinner Table 11
Chapter III.
Heretic and Revolutionist 16
Chapter IV.
Captain Tiago 23
Chapter V.
An Idyl on the Azotea 29
Chapter VI.
Things Philippine 35
Chapter VII.
San Diego and Its People 40
Chapter VIII.
Ibarra and the Grave-Digger 47
Chapter IX.
Adventures of a School Teacher 51
Chapter X.
Lights and Shadows 57
Chapter XI.
The Fishing Party 59
Chapter XII.
In the Woods 68
Chapter XIII.
In the House of Tasio 77
Chapter XIV.
The Eve of the Fiesta 83
Chapter XV.
As Night Comes On 87
Chapter XVI.
The Hoisting Crane 92
Chapter XVII.
The Banquet 104
Chapter XVIII.
The First Cloud 112
Chapter XIX.
His Excellency 116
Chapter XX.
The Procession 125
Chapter XXI.
Doña Consolacion 129
Chapter XXII.
Might and Right 137
Chapter XXIII.
Two Visitors 145
Chapter XXIV.
Episode in Espadaña's Life 148
Chapter XXV.
Schemes 161
Chapter XXVI.
The Persecuted 165
Chapter XXVII.
The Cock Fight 172
Chapter XXVIII.
The Two Señoras 181
Chapter XXIX.
The Enigma 188
Chapter XXX.
The Voice of the Persecuted 191
Chapter XXXI.
Elias's Family 200
Chapter XXXII.
Changes 207
Chapter XXXIII.
Playing Cards with the Shades 211
Chapter XXXIV.
The Discovery 217
Chapter XXXV.
The Catastrophe 223
Chapter XXXVI.
What People Say and Think 229
Chapter XXXVII.
Vae Victis! 235
Chapter XXXVIII.
The Accursed 244
Chapter XXXIX.
Maria Clara is Married 248
Chapter XL.
The Pursuit on the Lake 259
Chapter XLI.
Father Dámaso Explains 267
Epilogue 271
JOSÉ RIZAL.
Dr. José Rizal, of whose "Noli Me Tangere," the following story, is
an abridgement, is the most striking character to be found in the
history of the Philippine Islands. He was not only a great martyr
to the cause of liberty, and to the advancement of his fellow men,
but he was without doubt the greatest Filipino ever born, and his
memory is cherished to-day by his people as we ourselves cherish the
memory of Washington.
Rizal was born on June 19th, 1861, in the pueblo of Calamba, in the
province of Laguna, on the Island of Luzon. He came of a Tagalog
family, which, it is said, acknowledged a slight mixture of Chinese
blood, and possessed considerable property. As a child he gave evidence
of extraordinary precocity. He is said to have written poetry in his
native tongue at eight years of age, produced a successful melodrama
at fourteen, and later to have won prizes in literary contests with
writers of recognized ability.
After passing through the University of Manila, and receiving much
instruction at the hands of the Jesuit fathers, he was sent to Europe
to complete his education. He pursued courses of study in Spanish
and German universities, and won the degrees of Doctor of Medicine
and Doctor of Philosophy. Besides acquiring a knowledge of seven
languages he gained a brilliant reputation for proficiency in the
branch of optical surgery. For a time he was the leading assistant
in the office of a world-renowned specialist at Vienna.
While in Europe Rizal wrote several books and also gave considerable
time to sculpture and painting. His artistic ability was great,
and some of his productions are now treasured by friends into whose
possession they came. Rizal's best known work is his "Noli Me Tangere,"
written in Belgium about 1886 or 1887. This novel, with its vivid
picture of life in the Philippines, and its exposure of Spanish
misrule and oppression, won for him the bitter hatred of the friars,
and inspired the relentless persecution which only ended with the
taking of his life.
In 1889 Dr. Rizal returned to the Philippines, but was soon compelled
to leave his native land in order to escape forcible banishment. After
a short residence in Japan, he went to London, where he published
a work on the History of the Philippine Islands. About the same
time a sequel to "Noli Me Tangere," entitled "El Filibusterismo,"
was published. The hatred of the priests against him was further
inflamed by this production, and the government in Manila was forced
by the friars to forbid the circulation of any of his writings. Copies
of his novels were burned in the public squares, and it was worth
one's life to be found possessing a copy. Until very recently it has
been almost impossible to obtain a copy of Rizal's works, and it was
necessary to go to Europe to secure the one from which the following
abridged translation was made.
In 1892 Dr. Rizal was so overcome with a desire to see again his
beautiful fatherland that he ventured, in the face of all the dangers
that threatened him, to return to Manila. He had scarcely set foot
on shore, however, before he was arrested and thrown in prison. The
friars demanded his execution on the ground that he carried incendiary
leaflets for the purpose of stirring up a rebellion, but subsequent
inquiries showed that such leaflets had been introduced into his
baggage at the custom house through the intrigues of the Augustine
friars. Despite his indignant protestations of innocence; Rizal was
summarily condemned by the Spanish General, Despujols, to banishment
at Dapitan in the island of Mindanao. Although the trickery of the
friars became known to him, Despujols lacked courage to revoke his
order of banishment, for fear that he, too, would incur the hatred
of the powerful religious corporations.
After four years of exile Rizal saw plainly that the hostility of
the friars would make it impossible for him to live in his native
land. In 1896 a plague of yellow fever broke out in the island
of Cuba and Rizal volunteered to lend his medical services to the
Spanish government. Ramon Blanco, then general-in-chief of the Spanish
forces in the Philippines, accepted the generous offer and recalled
the young man to Manila that he might sail at once for Cuba. Alarmed
by demonstrations of popular affection for Rizal, who represented the
aspirations of the Filipino people, the Spanish authorities broke faith
with him and imprisoned him in the Fuerza de Santiago. He was arraigned
on false charges, given a military trial, and at the dictation of
the religious orders was sentenced to be shot as a traitor.
At dawn on December 30th, 1896, he was led to the place of execution
on the beautiful Luneta, overlooking the tranquil surface of Manila
Bay. Notices of the event had been published throughout the islands
and the day on which it was to occur was proclaimed a fiesta. Thousands
gathered around the place selected, and so evident was the sympathy of
the helpless Filipinos for the man who was to die for their sake that
Spain marshalled ten regiments of her soldiers about the spot. The
populace must be intimidated. A nation's hero was about to become a
nation's martyr. With face uplifted he glanced at the multitude about
him and smiled. They tied his arms behind him and made him face the
waters of the bay. In vain he protested and begged that he might die
facing his executioners. A squad of his fellow countrymen, who were
serving in Spain's army, were selected for the bloody work. They drew
in position to shoot him in the back. The order was given to fire,
but only one had the courage to obey. The bullet went straight and the
hero fell, but another shot was necessary to despatch his life. His
newly wedded wife remained with him to the end. The best hope of the
Filipino people was crushed; a light in a dark place was snuffed out.
Rizal was no extremist, no believer in harsh and bloody methods, no
revolutionist. He aimed to secure moderate and reasonable reforms, to
lessen the oppressive exactions of the friars, to examine into titles
of their land, and to make possible the education and uplifting of
his people. He loved Spain as he did his own country, and repeatedly
used his influence against the rebellious measures proposed by other
Filipino leaders. His execution was only one of the numerous outrages
which characterized Spain's reign in the Philippines.
In closing this short sketch of Rizal's life we can do no better
than to quote the estimate of him made by Dr. Ferdinand Blumentritt,
professor in the University of Leitmeritz, Austria, who prepared a
biographical sketch of Rizal. Dr. Blumentritt said:
"Not only is Rizal the most prominent man of his own people, but the
greatest man the Malayan race has produced. His memory will never
perish in his fatherland, and future generations of Spaniards will
yet learn to utter his name with respect and reverence."
FRIARS AND FILIPINOS.
CHAPTER I.
DON SANTIAGO'S DINNER.
In the latter part of October, Don Santiago de los Santos, popularly
known as Captain Tiago, gave a dinner. Though, contrary to his custom,
he had not announced it until the afternoon of the day on which it was
to occur, the dinner became at once the absorbing topic of conversation
in Binondo, in the other suburbs of Manila, and even in the walled
city. Captain Tiago was generally considered a most liberal man,
and his house, like his country, shut its doors to no one, whether
bent on pleasure or on the development of some new and daring scheme.
The dinner was given in the captain's house in Analoague street. The
building is of ordinary size, of the style of architecture common
to the country, and is situated on that arm of the Pasig called by
some Binondo Creek. This, like all the streams in Manila, satisfies a
multitude of needs. It serves for bathing, mortar-mixing, laundering,
fishing, means of transportation and communication, and even for
drinking water, when the Chinese water-carriers find it convenient
to use it for that purpose. Although the most important artery of
the busiest part of the town, where the roar of commerce is loudest
and traffic most congested, the stream is, for a distance of a mile,
crossed by only one wooden bridge. During six months of the year, one
end of this bridge is out of order, and the other end is impassable
during the remaining time.
The house is low and somewhat out of plumb. No one, however, knows
whether the faulty lines of the building are due to a defect in the
sight of the architect who constructed it, or whether they are the
result of earthquakes and hurricanes.
A wide staircase, with green balustrades and carpeted here and there in
spots, leads from the zaguan, or tiled entrance hall, to the second
story of the house. On either side of this staircase is a row of
flower-pots and vases, placed upon chinaware pedestals, brilliant in
coloring and fantastic in design. Upstairs, we enter a spacious hall,
which is, in these islands, called caida. This serves to-night for
the dining hall. In the middle of the room is a large table, profusely
and richly ornamented, fairly groaning under the weight of delicacies.
In direct contrast to these worldly preparations are the motley colored
religious pictures on the walls--such subjects as "Purgatory," "Hell,"
"The Last Judgment," "The Death of the Just," and "The Death of the
Sinner." Below these, in a beautiful renaissance frame, is a large,
curious linen engraving of two old ladies. The picture bears the
inscription "Our Lady of Peace, Propitious to Travellers, Venerated
in Antipolo, Visiting in the Guise of a Beggar the Pious Wife of the
Famous Captain Inés in Her Sickness." In the side of the room toward
the river, Captain Tiago has arranged fantastic wooden arches, half
Chinese, half European, through which one can pass to the roof which
covers part of the first story. This roof serves as a veranda, and
has been illuminated with Chinese lanterns in many colors and made
into a pretty little arbor or garden. The sala or principal room of
the house, where the guests assembled is resplendent with colossal
mirrors and brilliant chandeliers, and, upon a platform of pine,
is a costly piano of the finest workmanship.
People almost filled this room, the men keeping on one side and the
women on the other, as though they were in a Catholic church or a
synagogue. Among the women were a number of young girls, both native
and Spanish. Occasionally one of them forgot herself and yawned,
but immediately sought to conceal it by covering her mouth with her
fan. Conversation was carried on in a low voice and died away in
vague mono-syllables, like the indistinct noises heard by night in
a large mansion.
An elderly woman with a kindly face, a cousin of Captain Tiago,
received the ladies. She spoke Spanish regardless of all the
grammatical rules, and her courtesies consisted in offering to the
Spanish ladies cigarettes and betel nut (neither of which they use)
and in kissing the hands of the native women after the manner of
the friars. Finally the poor old lady was completely exhausted,
and, taking advantage of a distant crash occasioned by the breaking
of a plate, hurried off precipitately to investigate, murmuring:
"Jesús! Just wait, you good-for-nothings!"
Among the men there was somewhat more animation. In one corner of
the room were some cadets, who chatted with some show of interest,
but in a low voice. From time to time they surveyed the crowd and
indicated to each other different persons, meanwhile laughing more
or less affectedly.
The only people who appeared to be really enjoying themselves were
two friars, two citizens and an officer of the army who formed a
group around a small table, on which were bottles of wine and English
biscuits. The officer was old, tall and sunburnt, and looked as the
Duke of Alva might have looked, had he been reduced to a command in
the civil guard. He said little, but what he did say was short and
to the point. One of the friars was a young Dominican, handsome and
dressed with extreme nicety. He wore gold mounted spectacles and
preserved the extreme gravity of youth. The other friar, however,
who was a Franciscan, talked a great deal and gesticulated even
more. Although his hair was getting gray, he seemed to be well
preserved and in robust health. His splendid figure, keen glance,
square jaw and herculean form gave him the appearance of a Roman
patrician in disguise. He was gay and talked briskly, like one who
is not afraid to speak out. Brusque though his words might be, his
merry laugh removed any disagreeable impression.
As to the citizens, one of them was small in stature and wore a black
beard, his most noticeable feature being his large nose--so large
that you could scarcely believe that it was all his own. The other
was a young blonde, apparently a recent arrival in the country. The
latter was carrying on a lively discussion with the Franciscan.
"You will see," said the friar, "when you have been in the country
a few months, and will be convinced that what I say is right. It is
one thing to govern in Madrid and another to rule in the Philippines."
"But----"
"I, for example," continued Father Dámaso, raising his voice to prevent
the other from speaking, "I, who can point to my twenty-three years
of existence on bananas and rice, can speak with some authority on
this subject. Do not come to me with theories or arguments, for I
know the native. Remember, that when I came to this country, I was
sent to a parish, small and largely devoted to agriculture. I did not
understand Tagalog very well, but I received the confessions of the
women and we managed to understand each other. In fact, they came
to think so much of me that three years afterward, when I was sent
to another and larger town, where a vacancy had been created by the
death of the native parish priest, all the women were in tears. They
overwhelmed me with presents, they saw me off with bands of music----"
"But this only shows----"
"Wait, wait! Do not be in a hurry! My successor remained there a still
shorter time, but when he left there were more people to see him off,
more tears shed, and more music played, although he had treated the
people worse than I, and had raised the parish dues to a sum almost
double the amount I had exacted."
"But allow me----"
"Furthermore, I was twenty years in the town of San Diego and it was
only a few months ago--that--that I left. Twenty years! Surely any
one will admit that twenty years is time enough to get acquainted
with a town. There were six thousand people in San Diego, and I knew
every one of them as if he were my own child. I knew even the private
affairs of them all; I knew in what way this man was 'crooked,'
where the shoe pinched that one, what slips every girl had made and
with whom, and who was the true father of each child, for I received
all of their confessions and they always confessed scrupulously. I
can prove what I say by Santiago, our host, for he has considerable
property in that town, and it was there that we became friends. Well,
then! This will show you what sort of people the natives are: when I
went away, only a few old women and some lay brothers saw me off. And
that, after I had been there twenty years! Don't you see that this
proves beyond a doubt that all the reforms attempted by the Ministers
of the Government in Madrid are perfectly absurd?"
It was now the young man's turn to be perplexed. The lieutenant, who
had been listening to the argument, knit his brows. The little man
with the black beard made ready to combat or support Father Dámaso's
arguments, while the Dominican was content to remain entirely neutral.
"But do you believe----," the young man finally asked in a curious
mood, and looking straight at the friar.
"Do I believe it? As I do the Gospel! The native is so indolent!"
"Ah! Pardon me for interrupting you," said the young blonde, lowering
his voice and drawing his chair closer, "but you have spoken a word
that arouses my interest. Is this indolence an inherent characteristic
of the native, or is it true, as a foreign traveller has said in
speaking of a country whose inhabitants are of the same race as these,
that this indolence is only a fabrication to excuse our own laziness,
our backwardness and the faults of our celestial system?"
"Bah! That is nothing but envy! Ask Señor Laruja, who knows this
country very well, whether the native has his equal in the world for
indolence and ignorance."
"It is a fact," replied the little man referred to, "that
nowhere in the world can any one be found more indolent than the
native. Positively nowhere!"
"Nor more vicious and ungrateful!"
"Nor with less education!"
Somewhat uneasy, the blonde man began to glance about the
room. "Gentlemen," he said in a low voice, "I believe that we are in
the house of a native, and these young ladies may----"
"Bah! Don't be so sensitive. How long have you been in the country?"
"Four days," answered the young man somewhat ruffled.
"Did you come here as an employee?"
"No, sir. I came on my own account in order to become acquainted with
the country."
"Man, what a rare bird you are!" exclaimed Father Dámaso, looking
at him with curiosity. "To come here on your own account for such
foolish ends! What a phenomenon! And when so many books have been
written about this country----"
Then, striking the arm of his chair with sudden violence, he exclaimed:
"The country is being lost; it is lost already. The governing power
supports heretics against the ministers of God."
"What do you mean?" again asked the lieutenant, half rising from
his chair.
"What do I mean?" repeated Father Dámaso, again raising his voice,
and facing the lieutenant. "I mean what I say. I mean that, when a
priest turns away the corpse of a heretic from his cemetery, no one,
not even the King himself, has the right to interfere, and still less
to punish. And yet a general, a miserable little general----"
"Father! His Excellency is the vice-regal representative of His
Majesty the King!" exclaimed the officer, rising to his feet.
"What do I care for His Excellency, or for any of your vice-regal
representatives!" answered the Franciscan, rising in his turn. "In
any other time than the present, he would have been thrown down
stairs in the same way as the religious corporations treated the
sacrilegious governor Bustamente in his time. Those were the days
when there was faith!"
"I'll tell you right here that I don't allow any--His Excellency
represents His Majesty the King!"
"I don't care whether he is king or rogue. For us there is no king
other than the true----"
"Stop this immediately!" shouted the lieutenant in a threatening
manner, and as though he were commanding his own soldiers. "Take back
what you have said, or to-morrow I shall inform His Excellency."
"Go and tell him at once! Go tell him!" answered Father Dámaso,
sarcastically, at the same time approaching the lieutenant with his
fists doubled. "Don't you think for a moment that, because I wear
the dress of a monk, I'm not a man. Hurry! Go tell him! I'll lend
you my carriage."
The discussion began to grow ridiculous as the speakers became more
heated, but, at this point, fortunately, the Dominican interfered.
"Gentlemen!" he said in a tone of authority, and with that nasal
twang which is so characteristic of the friars, "there is no reason
why you should thus confuse matters or take offense where it is not
intended. We should distinguish between what Father Dámaso says as
a man, and what he says as a priest. Whatever he may say as a priest
cannot be offensive, for the words of a priest are understood to be
absolutely true."
"But I understand what his motives are, Father Sibyla!" interrupted
the lieutenant, who saw that he would be drawn into a net of such
fine distinction that, if he allowed it to go on, Father Dámaso
would get off scot free. "I know very well what his motives are,
and Your Reverence will also perceive them. During the absence of
Father Dámaso from San Diego, his assistant buried the body of a very
worthy person. Yes, sir, an extremely worthy person! I had known
the man from time to time and had often been his guest. What if he
never had been to confession? I do not confess, either. To say that
he committed suicide is a lie, a slander. A man such as he, with
a son whose success and love were more than all the world to him;
a man who believed in God, who fulfilled his duty to society, who
was honorable and just--such a man does not commit suicide. That is
what I say! I am not telling you all that I think about this matter,
and Your Reverence should be very thankful that I restrain myself."
Turning his back on the Franciscan, he continued: "As I was saying,
this priest, when he returned to the town, after maltreating his
coadjutor, ordered that the man's body be taken up and thrown out of
the cemetery, to be buried I know not where. The town of San Diego
was too cowardly to protest, though, in fact, very few people knew
much about the matter. The dead man had no relatives in the town and
his only son was in Europe. His Excellency, however, learned about
the affair, and being at heart upright and just, he ordered that the
priest be punished. As a result, Father Dámaso was transferred to
another but better town. That is all there was to it. Now you can
make all the distinctions you like."
So saying, he left the group.
"I am very sorry to have touched upon so delicate a subject," said
Father Sibyla, "but, after all, if the change from one town to another
was to your advantage----"
"How could it be to my advantage? How about all the things that I
lost?" interrupted Father Dámaso, fairly boiling over with rage.
"Good evening, gentlemen! Good evening, Father!" said Captain Santiago,
who at that instant entered the room, leading a youth by the hand. On
saluting his guests in this manner, he kissed the hands of the priests,
who, by the way, forgot to give him their blessing. The Dominican took
off his gold-rimmed spectacles in order to examine the new arrival
at better advantage, while Father Dámaso, turning pale at the sight,
stared at the youth with eyes wide open.
"I have the honor of presenting to you Don Crisostomo Ibarra, the
son of my deceased friend," said Captain Tiago. "The young man has
just arrived from Europe, and I have been to meet him." At the mere
mention of the name, exclamations were heard in all parts of the
room. The lieutenant, forgetting himself entirely, did not stop to
salute his host, but at once approached the young man and surveyed
him from head to foot. The youth exchanged the usual greetings with
those who had gathered around him. He showed no striking peculiarity,
except in his sombre dress, which was in deep contrast with that of
the other persons present. His athletic build, his appearance, and
every movement he made showed, however, that a fine mind and a healthy
body had both been highly developed. You could see from his frank and
vivacious face that he had Spanish blood in his veins. Although his
hair, eyes and complexion were dark, his cheeks had a slight color,
due, no doubt, to residence in cold countries.
"What!" he exclaimed with glad surprise, "the parish priest of my
own town! Father Dámaso, my father's intimate friend!" Every one in
the room looked at the Franciscan, but the latter made no motion.
"You must excuse me, if I have made a mistake," added Ibarra, somewhat
in doubt because of the apathy of the friar.
"You have made no mistake," the priest finally answered in a strained
voice, "but your father was never an intimate friend of mine."
Ibarra slowly withdrew the hand which he had offered, looking at the
friar with great surprise. As he turned about, he came face to face
with the lieutenant just approaching.
"My boy, are you the son of Don Rafael Ibarra?"
The young man bowed in acquiescence. Father Dámaso settled back into
his arm-chair and fixed his eyes upon the lieutenant.
"Welcome to your country! May you be more happy in it than was your
father!" exclaimed the officer in a trembling voice. "I had many
dealings with your father and I knew him well, and I can say that he
was one of the most worthy and honorable men in the Philippines."
"Sir," replied Ibarra with emotion, "your praise of my father puts
me in doubt as to his fate. Even now I, his own son, am ignorant of
it all."
The eyes of the old man filled with tears. He turned and hurriedly
withdrew. Ibarra found himself standing alone in the middle of the
room. His host had disappeared, and he turned to a group of gentlemen,
who, as soon as they saw him coming, formed a semicircle to receive
him.
"Gentlemen," he said, "in Germany, when a stranger attends any
social function and there is no one present to introduce him, it is
allowable for him to introduce himself. Permit me to avail myself
of this practice. Gentlemen, my name is Juan Crisostomo Ibarra y
Magsalin." The others gave their names in turn, of which the most
were comparatively unknown.
"My name is A----a," said one of the young men, bowing stiffly.
"Then, perhaps, I have the honor of addressing the poet whose works
have kept up my enthusiasm for my country? I have been told that you
have stopped writing, but no one has told me why."
"Why? Because there is no use in invoking the muses for false and
foolish ends. A case has been made out against one man for having put
into verse a true story of Pero Grullo. I am not going to get myself
into a similar scrape. They may call me a poet, but they shall not
call me a fool."
"And can you not tell us what that true story was?"
"Yes. The poet said that the son of a lion is also a lion, and for
saying this he narrowly escaped being banished."
"Dinner is ready," announced a waiter who had been borrowed from the
Cáfé Campaña. The guests began to file into the dining room, not,
however, without many sighs, and even some prayers among the women,
especially the natives, that the dreaded affair would soon be over.