by José Rizal
CHAPTER XL
Right and Might
Ten o'clock at night: the last rockets rose lazily in the dark skywhere a few paper balloons recently inflated with smoke and hot airstill glimmered like new stars. Some of those adorned with fireworkstook fire, threatening all the houses, so there might be seen on theridges of the roofs men armed with pails of water and long poles withpieces of cloth on the ends. Their black silhouettes stood out inthe vague clearness of the air like phantoms that had descended fromspace to witness the rejoicings of men. Many pieces of fireworks offantastic shapes--wheels, castles, bulls, carabaos--had been set off,surpassing in beauty and grandeur anything ever before seen by theinhabitants of San Diego.
Now the people were moving in crowds toward the plaza to attend thetheater for the last time, Here and there might be seen Bengal lightsfantastically illuminating the merry groups while the boys wereavailing themselves of torches to hunt in the grass for unexplodedbombs and other remnants that could still be used. But soon the musicgave the signal and all abandoned the open places.
The great stage was brilliantly illuminated. Thousands of lightssurrounded the posts, hung from the roof, or sowed the floor withpyramidal clusters. An alguazil was looking after these, and when hecame forward to attend to them the crowd shouted at him and whistled,"There he is! there he is!"
In front of the curtain the orchestra players were tuning theirinstruments and playing preludes of airs. Behind them was the spacespoken of by the correspondent in his letter, where the leadingcitizens of the town, the Spaniards, and the rich visitors occupiedrows of chairs. The general public, the nameless rabble, filledup the rest of the place, some of them bringing benches on theirshoulders not so much for seats as to make, up for their lack ofstature. This provoked noisy protests on the part of the benchless,so the offenders got down at once; but before long they were up againas if nothing had happened.
Goings and comings, cries, exclamations, bursts of laughter, aserpent-cracker turned loose, a firecracker set off--all contributedto swell the uproar. Here a bench had a leg broken off and thepeople fell to the ground amid the laughter of the crowd. They werevisitors who had come from afar to observe and now found themselvesthe observed. Over there they quarreled and disputed over a seat,a little farther on was heard the noise of breaking glass; itwas Andeng carrying refreshments and drinks, holding the wide traycarefully with both hands, but by chance she had met her sweetheart,who tried to take advantage of the situation.
The teniente-mayor, Don Filipo, presided over the show, as thegobernadorcillo was fond of monte. He was talking with old Tasio. "Whatcan I do? The alcalde was unwilling to accept my resignation. 'Don'tyou feel strong enough to attend to your duties?' he asked me."
"How did you answer him?"
"'Senor Alcalde,' I answered, 'the strength of a teniente-mayor,however insignificant it may be, is like all other authority itemanates from higher spheres. The King himself receives his strengthfrom the people and the people theirs from God. That is exactly whatI lack, Senor Alcalde.' But he did not care to listen to me, tellingme that we would talk about it after the fiesta."
"Then may God help you!" said the old man, starting away.
"Don't you want to see the show?"
"Thanks, no! For dreams and nonsense I am sufficient unto myself," theSage answered with a sarcastic smile. "But now I think of it, has yourattention never been drawn to the character of our people? Peaceful,yet fond of warlike shows and bloody fights; democratic, yet adoringemperors, kings, and princes; irreligious, yet impoverishing itselfby costly religious pageants. Our women have gentle natures yet gowild with joy when a princess flourishes a lance. Do you know to whatit is due? Well--"
The arrival of Maria Clara and her friends put an end to thisconversation. Don Filipo met them and ushered them to theirseats. Behind them came the curate with another Franciscan and someSpaniards. Following the priests were a number of the townsmen whomake it their business to escort the friars. "May God reward themalso in the next life," muttered old Tasio as he went away.
The play began with Chananay and Marianito in _Crispino e lacomare_. All now had their eyes and ears turned to the stage, all butone: Padre Salvi, who seemed to have gone there for no other purposethan that of watching Maria Clara, whose sadness gave to her beauty anair so ideal and interesting that it was easy to understand how shemight be looked upon with rapture. But the eyes of the Franciscan,deeply hidden in their sunken sockets, spoke nothing of rapture. Inthat gloomy gaze was to be read something desperately sad--with sucheyes Cain might have gazed from afar on the Paradise whose delightshis mother pictured to him!
The first scene was over when Ibarra entered. His appearance caused amurmur, and attention was fixed on him and the curate. But the youngman seemed not to notice anything as he greeted Maria Clara and herfriends in a natural way and took a seat beside them.
The only one who spoke to him was Sinang. "Did you see thefireworks?" she asked.
"No, little friend, I had to go with the Captain-General."
"Well, that's a shame! The curate was with us and told us storiesof the damned--can you imagine it!--to fill us with fear so that wemight not enjoy ourselves--can you imagine it!"
The curate arose and approached Don Filipo, with whom he began ananimated conversation. The former spoke in a nervous manner, thelatter in a low, measured voice.
"I'm sorry that I can't please your Reverence," said Don Filipo,"but Senor Ibarra is one of the heaviest contributors and has a rightto be here as long as he doesn't disturb the peace."
"But isn't it disturbing the peace to scandalize good Christians? It'sletting a wolf enter the fold. You will answer for this to God andthe authorities!"
"I always answer for the actions that spring from my own will, Padre,"replied Don Filipo with a slight bow. "But my little authority does notempower me to mix in religious affairs. Those who wish to avoid contactwith him need not talk to him. Senor Ibarra forces himself on no one."
"But it's giving opportunity for danger, and he who loves dangerperishes in it."
"I don't see any danger, Padre. The alcalde and the Captain-General,my superior officers, have been talking with him all the afternoonand it's not for me to teach them a lesson."
"If you don't put him out of here, we'll leave."
"I'm very sorry, but I can't put any one out of here." The curaterepented of his threat, but it was too late to retract, so he madea sign to his companion, who arose with regret, and the two wentout together. The persons attached to them followed their example,casting looks of hatred at Ibarra.
The murmurs and whispers increased. A number of people approachedthe young man and said to him, "We're with you, don't take any noticeof them."
"Whom do you mean by _them?_" Ibarra asked in surprise.
"Those who've just left to avoid contact with you."
"Left to avoid contact with me?"
"Yes, they say that you're excommunicated."
"Excommunicated?" The astonished youth did not know what to say. Helooked about him and saw that Maria Clara was hiding her face behindher fan. "But is it possible?" he exclaimed finally. "Are we stillin the Dark Ages? So--"
He approached the young women and said with a change of tone, "Excuseme, I've forgotten an engagement. I'll be back to see you home."
"Stay!" Sinang said to him. "Yeyeng is going to dance _LaCalandria_. She dances divinely."
"I can't, little friend, but I'll be back." The uproar increased.
Yeyeng appeared fancifully dressed, with the "_Da uste supermiso_?" and Carvajal was answering her, "_Pase uste adelante_,"when two soldiers of the Civil Guard went up to Don Filipo and orderedhim to stop the performance.
"Why?" asked the teniente-mayor in surprise.
"Because the alferez and his wife have been fighting and can't sleep."
"Tell the alferez that we have permission from the alcalde and thatagainst such permission _no one_ in the town has any authority,not even the gobernadorcillo himself,
and _he_ is my _only superior_."
"Well, the show must stop!" repeated the soldiers. Don Filipo turnedhis back and they went away. In order not to disturb the merrimenthe told no one about the incident.
After the selection of vaudeville, which was loudly applauded,the Prince Villardo presented himself, challenging to mortal combatthe Moros who held his father prisoner. The hero threatened to cutoff all their heads at a single stroke and send them to the moon,but fortunately for the Moros, who were disposing themselves forthe combat, a tumult arose. The orchestra suddenly ceased playing,threw their instruments away, and jumped up on the stage. The valiantVillardo, not expecting them and taking them for allies of the Moros,dropped his sword and shield, and started to run. The Moros, seeingthat such a doughty Christian was fleeing, did not consider it improperto imitate him. Cries, groans, prayers, oaths were heard, while thepeople ran and pushed one another about. The lights were extinguished,blazing lamps were thrown into the air. "Tulisanes! Tulisanes!" criedsome. "Fire, fire! Robbers!" shouted others. Women and children wept,benches and spectators were rolled together on the ground amid thegeneral pandemonium.
The cause of all this uproar was two civil-guards, clubs in hand,chasing the musicians in order to break up the performance. Theteniente-mayor, with the aid of the cuadrilleros, who were armedwith old sabers, managed at length to arrest them, in spite of theirresistance.
"Take them to the town hall!" cried Don Filipo. "Take care that theydon't get away!"
Ibarra had returned to look for Maria Clara. The frightened girls clungto him pale and trembling while Aunt Isabel recited the Latin litany.
When the people were somewhat calmed down from their fright and hadlearned the cause of the disturbance, they were beside themselveswith indignation. Stones rained on the squad of cuadrilleros who wereconducting the two offenders from the scene, and there were even thosewho proposed to set fire to the barracks of the Civil Guard so as toroast Dona Consolacion along with the alferez.
"That's what they're good for!" cried a woman, doubling up her fistsand stretching out her arms. "To disturb the town! They don't chase anybut honest folks! Out yonder are the tulisanes and the gamblers. Let'sset fire to the barracks!"
One man was beating himself on the arm and begging forconfession. Plaintive sounds issued from under the overturnedbenches--it was a poor musician. The stage was crowded with actorsand spectators, all talking at the same time. There was Chananaydressed as Leonor in _Il Trovatore_, talking in the language of themarkets to Ratia in the costume of a schoolmaster; Yeyeng, wrappedin a silk shawl, was clinging to the Prince Villardo; while Balbinoand the Moros were exerting themselves to console the more or lessinjured musicians. [112] Several Spaniards went from group to groupharanguing every one they met.
A large crowd was forming, whose intention Don Filipo seemed to beaware of, for he ran to stop them. "Don't disturb the peace!" hecried. "Tomorrow we'll ask for an accounting and we'll getjustice. I'll answer for it that we get justice!"
"No!" was the reply of several. "They did the same thing in Kalamba,[113] the same promise was made, but the alcalde did nothing. We'lltake the law into our own hands! To the barracks!"
In vain the teniente-mayor pleaded with them. The crowd maintained itshostile attitude, so he looked about him for help and noticed Ibarra.
"Senor Ibarra, as a favor! Restrain them while I get somecuadrilleros."
"What can I do?" asked the perplexed youth, but the teniente-mayor wasalready at a distance. He gazed about him seeking he knew not whom,when accidentally he discerned Elias, who stood impassively watchingthe disturbance.
Ibarra ran to him, caught him by the arm, and said to him in Spanish:"For God's sake, do something, if you can! I can't do anything." Thepilot must have understood him, for he disappeared in the crowd. Livelydisputes and sharp exclamations were heard. Gradually the crowd beganto break up, its members each taking a less hostile attitude. It washigh time, indeed, for the soldiers were already rushing out armedand with fixed bayonets.
Meanwhile, what had the curate been doing? Padre Salvi had not goneto bed but had stood motionless, resting his forehead against thecurtains and gazing toward the plaza. From time to time a suppressedsigh escaped him, and if the light of the lamp had not been sodim, perhaps it would have been possible to see his eyes fill withtears. Thus nearly an hour passed.
The tumult in the plaza awoke him from his reverie. With startledeyes he saw the confused movements of the people, while theirvoices came up to him faintly. A breathless servant informed himof what was happening. A thought shot across his mind: in the midstof confusion and tumult is the time when libertines take advantageof the consternation and weakness of woman. Every one seeks to savehimself, no one thinks of any one else; a cry is not heard or heeded,women faint, are struck and fall, terror and fright heed not shame,under the cover of night--and when they are in love! He imaginedthat he saw Crisostomo snatch the fainting Maria Clara up in hisarms and disappear into the darkness. So he went down the stairway byleaps and bounds, and without hat or cane made for the plaza like amadman. There he met some Spaniards who were reprimanding the soldiers,but on looking toward the seats that the girls had occupied he sawthat they were vacant.
"Padre! Padre!" cried the Spaniards, but he paid no attention tothem as he ran in the direction of Capitan Tiago's. There he breathedmore freely, for he saw in the open hallway the adorable silhouette,full of grace and soft in outline, of Maria Clara, and that of theaunt carrying cups and glasses.
"Ah!" he murmured, "it seems that she has been taken sick only."
Aunt Isabel at that moment closed the windows and the graceful shadowwas no longer to be seen. The curate moved away without heeding thecrowd. He had before his eyes the beautiful form of a maiden sleepingand breathing sweetly. Her eyelids were shaded by long lashes whichformed graceful curves like those of the Virgins of Raphael, thelittle mouth was smiling, all the features breathed forth virginity,purity, and innocence. That countenance formed a sweet vision in themidst of the white coverings of her bed like the head of a cherubamong the clouds. His imagination went still further--but who canwrite what a burning brain can imagine?
Perhaps only the newspaper correspondent, who concluded his accountof the fiesta and its accompanying incidents in the following manner:
"A thousand thanks, infinite thanks, to the opportune and activeintervention of the Very Reverend Padre Fray Bernardo Salvi, who,defying every danger in the midst of the unbridled mob, without hator cane, calmed the wrath of the crowd, using only his persuasiveword with the majesty and authority that are never lacking to aminister of a Religion of Peace. With unparalleled self-abnegationthis virtuous priest tore himself from sweet repose, such as everygood conscience like his enjoys, and rushed to protect his flockfrom the least harm. The people of San Diego will hardly forget thissublime deed of their heroic Pastor, remembering to hold themselvesgrateful to him for all eternity!"
