by José Rizal
CHAPTER XXXV
THE FIESTA
"Danzar sobre un volcan."
By seven in the evening the guests had begun to arrive: first, thelesser divinities, petty government officials, clerks, and merchants,with the most ceremonious greetings and the gravest airs at the start,as if they were parvenus, for so much light, so many decorations,and so much glassware had some effect. Afterwards, they began tobe more at ease, shaking their fists playfully, with pats on theshoulders, and even familiar slaps on the back. Some, it is true,adopted a rather disdainful air, to let it be seen that they wereaccustomed to better things--of course they were! There was one goddesswho yawned, for she found everything vulgar and even remarked thatshe was ravenously hungry, while another quarreled with her god,threatening to box his ears.
Don Timoteo bowed here and bowed there, scattered his best smiles,tightened his belt, stepped backward, turned halfway round, thencompletely around, and so on again and again, until one goddess couldnot refrain from remarking to her neighbor, under cover of her fan:"My dear, how important the old man is! Doesn't he look like ajumping-jack?"
Later came the bridal couple, escorted by Dona Victorina and the restof the party. Congratulations, hand-shakings, patronizing pats for thegroom: for the bride, insistent stares and anatomical observationson the part of the men, with analyses of her gown, her toilette,speculations as to her health and strength on the part of the women.
"Cupid and Psyche appearing on Olympus," thought Ben-Zayb,making a mental note of the comparison to spring it at some betteropportunity. The groom had in fact the mischievous features of the godof love, and with a little good-will his hump, which the severity ofhis frock coat did not altogether conceal, could be taken for a quiver.
Don Timoteo began to feel his belt squeezing him, the corns on hisfeet began to ache, his neck became tired, but still the Generalhad not come. The greater gods, among them Padre Irene and PadreSalvi, had already arrived, it was true, but the chief thunderer wasstill lacking. The poor man became uneasy, nervous; his heart beatviolently, but still he had to bow and smile; he sat down, he arose,failed to hear what was said to him, did not say what he meant. Inthe meantime, an amateur god made remarks to him about his chromos,criticizing them with the statement that they spoiled the walls.
"Spoil the walls!" repeated Don Timoteo, with a smile and a desireto choke him. "But they were made in Europe and are the most costlyI could get in Manila! Spoil the walls!" Don Timoteo swore to himselfthat on the very next day he would present for payment all the chitsthat the critic had signed in his store.
Whistles resounded, the galloping of horses was heard--at last! "TheGeneral! The Captain-General!"
Pale with emotion, Don Timoteo, dissembling the pain of his cornsand accompanied by his son and some of the greater gods, descendedto receive the Mighty Jove. The pain at his belt vanished beforethe doubts that now assailed him: should he frame a smile or affectgravity; should he extend his hand or wait for the General to offerhis? _Carambas!_ Why had nothing of this occurred to him before,so that he might have consulted his good friend Simoun?
To conceal his agitation, he whispered to his son in a low, shakyvoice, "Have you a speech prepared?"
"Speeches are no longer in vogue, papa, especially on such an occasionas this."
Jupiter arrived in the company of Juno, who was converted into a towerof artificial lights--with diamonds in her hair, diamonds around herneck, on her arms, on her shoulders, she was literally covered withdiamonds. She was arrayed in a magnificent silk gown having a longtrain decorated with embossed flowers.
His Excellency literally took possession of the house, as Don Timoteostammeringly begged him to do. [71] The orchestra played the royalmarch while the divine couple majestically ascended the carpetedstairway.
Nor was his Excellency's gravity altogether affected. Perhaps for thefirst time since his arrival in the islands he felt sad, a strainof melancholy tinged his thoughts. This was the last triumph ofhis three years of government, and within two days he would descendforever from such an exalted height. What was he leaving behind? HisExcellency did not care to turn his head backwards, but preferred tolook ahead, to gaze into the future. Although he was carrying away afortune, large sums to his credit were awaiting him in European banks,and he had residences, yet he had injured many, he had made enemiesat the Court, the high official was waiting for him there. OtherGenerals had enriched themselves as rapidly as he, and now they wereruined. Why not stay longer, as Simoun had advised him to do? No,good taste before everything else. The bows, moreover, were not nowso profound as before, he noticed insistent stares and even looks ofdislike, but still he replied affably and even attempted to smile.
"It's plain that the sun is setting," observed Padre Irene inBen-Zayb's ear. "Many now stare him in the face."
The devil with the curate--that was just what he was going to remark!
"My dear," murmured into the ear of a neighbor the lady who hadreferred to Don Timoteo as a jumping-jack, "did you ever see sucha skirt?"
"Ugh, the curtains from the Palace!"
"You don't say! But it's true! They're carrying everything away. You'llsee how they make wraps out of the carpets."
"That only goes to show that she has talent and taste," observed herhusband, reproving her with a look. "Women should be economical." Thispoor god was still suffering from the dressmaker's bill.
"My dear, give me curtains at twelve pesos a yard, and you'll see ifI put on these rags!" retorted the goddess in pique. "Heavens! Youcan talk when you have done something fine like that to give youthe right!"
Meanwhile, Basilio stood before the house, lost in the throngof curious spectators, counting those who alighted from theircarriages. When he looked upon so many persons, happy and confident,when he saw the bride and groom followed by their train of freshand innocent little girls, and reflected that they were goingto meet there a horrible death, he was sorry and felt his hatredwaning within him. He wanted to save so many innocents, he thoughtof notifying the police, but a carriage drove up to set down PadreSalvi and Padre Irene, both beaming with content, and like a passingcloud his good intentions vanished. "What does it matter to me?" heasked himself. "Let the righteous suffer with the sinners."
Then he added, to silence his scruples: "I'm not an informer, I mustn'tabuse the confidence he has placed in me. I owe him, _him_ more thanI do _them_: he dug my mother's grave, they killed her! What haveI to do with them? I did everything possible to be good and useful,I tried to forgive and forget, I suffered every imposition, and onlyasked that they leave me in peace. I got in no one's way. What havethey done to me? Let their mangled limbs fly through the air! We'vesuffered enough."
Then he saw Simoun alight with the terrible lamp in his hands, saw himcross the entrance with bowed head, as though deep in thought. Basiliofelt his heart beat fainter, his feet and hands turn cold, while theblack silhouette of the jeweler assumed fantastic shapes enveloped inflames. There at the foot of the stairway Simoun checked his steps,as if in doubt, and Basilio held his breath. But the hesitation wastransient--Simoun raised his head, resolutely ascended the stairway,and disappeared.
It then seemed to the student that the house was going to blow up atany moment, and that walls, lamps, guests, roof, windows, orchestra,would be hurtling through the air like a handful of coals in the midstof an infernal explosion. He gazed about him and fancied that he sawcorpses in place of idle spectators, he saw them torn to shreds, itseemed to him that the air was filled with flames, but his calmer selftriumphed over this transient hallucination, which was due somewhatto his hunger.
"Until he comes out, there's no danger," he said to himself. "TheCaptain-General hasn't arrived yet."
He tried to appear calm and control the convulsive trembling in hislimbs, endeavoring to divert his thoughts to other things. Somethingwithin was ridiculing him, saying, "If you tremble now, before thesupreme moment, how will you conduct yourself when you see bloodflowing, houses burning, and bull
ets whistling?"
His Excellency arrived, but the young man paid no attention tohim. He was watching the face of Simoun, who was among those thatdescended to receive him, and he read in that implacable countenancethe sentence of death for all those men, so that fresh terror seizedupon him. He felt cold, he leaned against the wall, and, with hiseyes fixed on the windows and his ears cocked, tried to guess whatmight be happening. In the sala he saw the crowd surround Simounto look at the lamp, he heard congratulations and exclamations ofadmiration--the words "dining-room," "novelty," were repeated manytimes--he saw the General smile and conjectured that the noveltywas to be exhibited that very night, by the jeweler's arrangement,on the table whereat his Excellency was to dine. Simoun disappeared,followed by a crowd of admirers.
At that supreme moment his good angel triumphed, he forgot his hatreds,he forgot Juli, he wanted to save the innocent. Come what might, hewould cross the street and try to enter. But Basilio had forgottenthat he was miserably dressed. The porter stopped him and accostedhim roughly, and finally, upon his insisting, threatened to callthe police.
Just then Simoun came down, slightly pale, and the porter turnedfrom Basilio to salute the jeweler as though he had been a saintpassing. Basilio realized from the expression of Simoun's face that hewas leaving the fated house forever, that the lamp was lighted. _Aleajacta est!_ Seized by the instinct of self-preservation, he thoughtthen of saving himself. It might occur to any of the guests throughcuriosity to tamper with the wick and then would come the explosionto overwhelm them all. Still he heard Simoun say to the cochero,"The Escolta, hurry!"
Terrified, dreading that he might at any moment hear the awfulexplosion, Basilio hurried as fast as his legs would carry him to getaway from the accursed spot, but his legs seemed to lack the necessaryagility, his feet slipped on the sidewalk as though they were movingbut not advancing. The people he met blocked the way, and before he hadgone twenty steps he thought that at least five minutes had elapsed.
Some distance away he stumbled against a young man who was standingwith his head thrown back, gazing fixedly at the house, and in himhe recognized Isagani. "What are you doing here?" he demanded. "Comeaway!"
Isagani stared at him vaguely, smiled sadly, and again turned his gazetoward the open balconies, across which was revealed the etherealsilhouette of the bride clinging to the groom's arm as they movedslowly out of sight.
"Come, Isagani, let's get away from that house. Come!" Basilio urgedin a hoarse voice, catching his friend by the arm.
Isagani gently shook himself free and continued to stare with thesame sad smile upon his lips.
"For God's sake, let's get away from here!"
"Why should I go away? Tomorrow it will not be she."
There was so much sorrow in those words that Basilio for a momentforgot his own terror. "Do you want to die?" he demanded.
Isagani shrugged his shoulders and continued to gaze toward the house.
Basilio again tried to drag him away. "Isagani, Isagani, listento me! Let's not waste any time! That house is mined, it's goingto blow up at any moment, by the least imprudent act, the leastcuriosity! Isagani, all will perish in its ruins."
"In its ruins?" echoed Isagani, as if trying to understand, butwithout removing his gaze from the window.
"Yes, in its ruins, yes, Isagani! For God's sake, come! I'll explainafterwards. Come! One who has been more unfortunate than either youor I has doomed them all. Do you see that white, clear light, like anelectric lamp, shining from the azotea? It's the light of death! Alamp charged with dynamite, in a mined dining-room, will burst andnot a rat will escape alive. Come!"
"No," answered Isagani, shaking his head sadly. "I want to stay here,I want to see her for the last time. Tomorrow, you see, she will besomething different."
"Let fate have its way!" Basilio then exclaimed, hurrying away.
Isagani watched his friend rush away with a precipitation thatindicated real terror, but continued to stare toward the charmedwindow, like the cavalier of Toggenburg waiting for his sweetheartto appear, as Schiller tells. Now the sala was deserted, all havingrepaired to the dining-rooms, and it occurred to Isagani that Basilio'sfears may have been well-founded. He recalled the terrified countenanceof him who was always so calm and composed, and it set him to thinking.
Suddenly an idea appeared clear in his imagination--the house wasgoing to blow up and Paulita was there, Paulita was going to die afrightful death. In the presence of this idea everything was forgotten:jealousy, suffering, mental torture, and the generous youth thoughtonly of his love. Without reflecting, without hesitation, he rantoward the house, and thanks to his stylish clothes and determinedmien, easily secured admittance.
While these short scenes were occurring in the street, in thedining-kiosk of the greater gods there was passed from hand to handa piece of parchment on which were written in red ink these fatefulwords:
_Mene, Tekel, Phares_ [72] _Juan Crisostomo Ibarra_
"Juan Crisostomo Ibarra? Who is he?" asked his Excellency, handingthe paper to his neighbor.
"A joke in very bad taste!" exclaimed Don Custodio. "To sign the nameof a filibuster dead more than ten years!"
"A filibuster!"
"It's a seditious joke!"
"There being ladies present--"
Padre Irene looked around for the joker and saw Padre Salvi, who wasseated at the right of the Countess, turn as white as his napkin,while he stared at the mysterious words with bulging eyes. The sceneof the sphinx recurred to him.
"What's the matter, Padre Salvi?" he asked. "Do you recognize yourfriend's signature?"
Padre Salvi did not reply. He made an effort to speak and without beingconscious of what he was doing wiped his forehead with his napkin.
"What has happened to your Reverence?"
"It is his very handwriting!" was the whispered reply in a scarcelyperceptible voice. "It's the very handwriting of Ibarra." Leaningagainst the back of his chair, he let his arms fall as though allstrength had deserted him.
Uneasiness became converted into fright, they all stared at one anotherwithout uttering a single word. His Excellency started to rise, butapprehending that such a move would be ascribed to fear, controlledhimself and looked about him. There were no soldiers present, eventhe waiters were unknown to him.
"Let's go on eating, gentlemen," he exclaimed, "and pay no attentionto the joke." But his voice, instead of reassuring, increased thegeneral uneasiness, for it trembled.
"I don't suppose that that _Mene, Tekel, Phares_, means that we'reto be assassinated tonight?" speculated Don Custodio.
All remained motionless, but when he added, "Yet they might poison us,"they leaped up from their chairs.
The light, meanwhile, had begun slowly to fade. "The lamp is goingout," observed the General uneasily. "Will you turn up the wick,Padre Irene?"
But at that instant, with the swiftness of a flash of lightning,a figure rushed in, overturning a chair and knocking a servant down,and in the midst of the general surprise seized the lamp, rushed tothe azotea, and threw it into the river. The whole thing happened ina second and the dining-kiosk was left in darkness.
The lamp had already struck the water before the servants could cryout, "Thief, thief!" and rush toward the azotea. "A revolver!" criedone of them. "A revolver, quick! After the thief!"
But the figure, more agile than they, had already mounted thebalustrade and before a light could be brought, precipitated itselfinto the river, striking the water with a loud splash.
