El Filibusterismo. English
Page 36
CHAPTER XXXIV
THE WEDDING
Once in the street, Basilio began to consider how he might spend thetime until the fatal hour arrived, for it was then not later than seveno'clock. It was the vacation period and all the students were back intheir towns, Isagani being the only one who had not cared to leave,but he had disappeared that morning and no one knew his whereabouts--soBasilio had been informed when after leaving the prison he had goneto visit his friend and ask him for lodging. The young man did notknow where to go, for he had no money, nothing but the revolver. Thememory of the lamp filled his imagination, the great catastrophe thatwould occur within two hours. Pondering over this, he seemed to seethe men who passed before his eyes walking without heads, and he felt athrill of ferocious joy in telling himself that, hungry and destitute,he that night was going to be dreaded, that from a poor student andservant, perhaps the sun would see him transformed into some oneterrible and sinister, standing upon pyramids of corpses, dictatinglaws to all those who were passing before his gaze now in magnificentcarriages. He laughed like one condemned to death and patted the buttof the revolver. The boxes of cartridges were also in his pockets.
A question suddenly occurred to him--where would the drama begin? Inhis bewilderment he had not thought of asking Simoun, but thelatter had warned him to keep away from Calle Anloague. Then came asuspicion: that afternoon, upon leaving the prison, he had proceededto the former house of Capitan Tiago to get his few personal effectsand had found it transformed, prepared for a fiesta--the wedding ofJuanito Pelaez! Simoun had spoken of a fiesta.
At this moment he noticed passing in front of him a long line ofcarriages filled with ladies and gentlemen, conversing in a livelymanner, and he even thought he could make out big bouquets of flowers,but he gave the detail no thought. The carriages were going towardCalle Rosario and in meeting those that came down off the Bridgeof Spain had to move along slowly and stop frequently. In one hesaw Juanito Pelaez at the side of a woman dressed in white with atransparent veil, in whom he recognized Paulita Gomez.
"Paulita!" he ejaculated in surprise, realizing that it was indeedshe, in a bridal gown, along with Juanito Pelaez, as though theywere just coming from the church. "Poor Isagani!" he murmured,"what can have become of him?"
He thought for a while about his friend, a great and generous soul,and mentally asked himself if it would not be well to tell him aboutthe plan, then answered himself that Isagani would never take partin such a butchery. They had not treated Isagani as they had him.
Then he thought that had there been no imprisonment, he would havebeen betrothed, or a husband, at this time, a licentiate in medicine,living and working in some corner of his province. The ghost ofJuli, crushed in her fall, crossed his mind, and dark flames ofhatred lighted his eyes; again he caressed the butt of the revolver,regretting that the terrible hour had not yet come. Just then he sawSimoun come out of the door of his house, carrying in his hands thecase containing the lamp, carefully wrapped up, and enter a carriage,which then followed those bearing the bridal party. In order not tolose track of Simoun, Basilio took a good look at the cochero andwith astonishment recognized in him the wretch who had driven him toSan Diego, Sinong, the fellow maltreated by the Civil Guard, the samewho had come to the prison to tell him about the occurrences in Tiani.
Conjecturing that Calle Anloague was to be the scene of action, thitherthe youth directed his steps, hurrying forward and getting ahead ofthe carriages, which were, in fact, all moving toward the former houseof Capitan Tiago--there they were assembling in search of a ball,but actually to dance in the air! Basilio smiled when he noticed thepairs of civil-guards who formed the escort, and from their number hecould guess the importance of the fiesta and the guests. The houseoverflowed with people and poured floods of light from its windows,the entrance was carpeted and strewn with flowers. Upstairs there,perhaps in his former solitary room, an orchestra was playing livelyairs, which did not completely drown the confused tumult of talkand laughter.
Don Timoteo Pelaez was reaching the pinnacle of fortune, and thereality surpassed his dreams. He was, at last, marrying his son tothe rich Gomez heiress, and, thanks to the money Simoun had lent him,he had royally furnished that big house, purchased for half its value,and was giving in it a splendid fiesta, with the foremost divinitiesof the Manila Olympus for his guests, to gild him with the light oftheir prestige. Since that morning there had been recurring to him,with the persistence of a popular song, some vague phrases that he hadread in the communion service. "Now has the fortunate hour come! Nowdraws nigh the happy moment! Soon there will be fulfilled in you theadmirable words of Simoun--'I live, and yet not I alone, but theCaptain-General liveth in me.'" The Captain-General the patron ofhis son! True, he had not attended the ceremony, where Don Custodiohad represented him, but he would come to dine, he would bring awedding-gift, a lamp which not even Aladdin's--between you and me,Simoun was presenting the lamp. Timoteo, what more could you desire?
The transformation that Capitan Tiago's house had undergone wasconsiderable--it had been richly repapered, while the smoke andthe smell of opium had been completely eradicated. The immensesala, widened still more by the colossal mirrors that infinitelymultiplied the lights of the chandeliers, was carpeted throughout,for the salons of Europe had carpets, and even though the floorwas of wide boards brilliantly polished, a carpet it must have too,since nothing should be lacking. The rich furniture of Capitan Tiagohad disappeared and in its place was to be seen another kind, in thestyle of Louis XV. Heavy curtains of red velvet, trimmed with gold,with the initials of the bridal couple worked on them, and upheld bygarlands of artificial orange-blossoms, hung as portieres and sweptthe floor with their wide fringes, likewise of gold. In the cornersappeared enormous Japanese vases, alternating with those of Sevresof a clear dark-blue, placed upon square pedestals of carved wood.
The only decorations not in good taste were the screaming chromoswhich Don Timoteo had substituted for the old drawings and picturesof saints of Capitan Tiago. Simoun had been unable to dissuade him,for the merchant did not want oil-paintings--some one might ascribethem to Filipino artists! He, a patron of Filipino artists, never! Onthat point depended his peace of mind and perhaps his life, and heknew how to get along in the Philippines! It is true that he had heardforeign painters mentioned--Raphael, Murillo, Velasquez--but he didnot know their addresses, and then they might prove to be somewhatseditious. With the chromos he ran no risk, as the Filipinos did notmake them, they came cheaper, the effect was the same, if not better,the colors brighter and the execution very fine. Don't say that DonTimoteo did not know how to comport himself in the Philippines!
The large hallway was decorated with flowers, having been convertedinto a dining-room, with a long table for thirty persons in the center,and around the sides, pushed against the walls, other smaller ones fortwo or three persons each. Bouquets of flowers, pyramids of fruitsamong ribbons and lights, covered their centers. The groom's placewas designated by a bunch of roses and the bride's by another oforange-blossoms and tuberoses. In the presence of so much finery andflowers one could imagine that nymphs in gauzy garments and Cupidswith iridescent wings were going to serve nectar and ambrosia toaerial guests, to the sound of lyres and Aeolian harps.
But the table for the greater gods was not there, being placedyonder in the middle of the wide azotea within a magnificent kioskconstructed especially for the occasion. A lattice of gilded woodover which clambered fragrant vines screened the interior from theeyes of the vulgar without impeding the free circulation of air topreserve the coolness necessary at that season. A raised platformlifted the table above the level of the others at which the ordinarymortals were going to dine and an arch decorated by the best artistswould protect the august heads from the jealous gaze of the stars.
On this table were laid only seven plates. The dishes were of solidsilver, the cloth and napkins of the finest linen, the wines themost costly and exquisite. Don Timoteo had sought the most rare andexpe
nsive in everything, nor would he have hesitated at crime had hebeen assured that the Captain-General liked to eat human flesh.