by José Rizal
CHAPTER LX
Maria Clara Weds
Capitan Tiago was very happy, for in all this terrible storm no onehad taken any notice of him. He had not been arrested, nor had he beensubjected to solitary confinement, investigations, electric machines,continuous foot-baths in underground cells, or other pleasantries thatare well-known to certain folk who call themselves civilized. Hisfriends, that is, those who had been his friends--for the good manhad denied all his Filipino friends from the instant when they weresuspected by the government--had also returned to their homes after afew days' vacation in the state edifices. The Captain-General himselfhad ordered that they be cast out from his precincts, not consideringthem worthy of remaining therein, to the great disgust of the one-armedindividual, who had hoped to celebrate the approaching Christmas intheir abundant and opulent company.
Capitan Tinong had returned to his home sick, pale, and swollen; theexcursion had not done him good. He was so changed that he said nota word, nor even greeted his family, who wept, laughed, chattered,and almost went mad with joy. The poor man no longer ventured outof his house for fear of running the risk of saying good-day to afilibuster. Not even Don Primitivo himself, with all the wisdom ofthe ancients, could draw him out of his silence.
"_Crede, prime_," the Latinist told him, "if I hadn't got here toburn all your papers, they would have squeezed your neck; and if Ihad burned the whole house they wouldn't have touched a hair of yourhead. But _quod_ _eventum, eventum; gratias agamus Domino Deo quianon in Marianis Insulis es, camotes seminando_." [167]
Stories similar to Capitan Tinong's were not unknown to Capitan Tiago,so he bubbled over with gratitude, without knowing exactly to whom heowed such signal favors. Aunt Isabel attributed the miracle to theVirgin of Antipolo, to the Virgin of the Rosary, or at least to theVirgin of Carmen, and at the very, very least that she was willingto concede, to Our Lady of the Girdle; according to her the miraclecould not get beyond that.
Capitan Tiago did not deny the miracle, but added: "I think so, Isabel,but the Virgin of Antipolo couldn't have done it alone. My friendshave helped, my future son-in-law, Senor Linares, who, as you know,joked with Senor Antonio Canovas himself, the premier whose portraitappears in the _Ilustracion_, he who doesn't condescend to show morethan half his face to the people."
So the good man could not repress a smile of satisfaction everytime that he heard any important news. And there was plenty of news:it was whispered about in secret that Ibarra would be hanged; that,while many proofs of his guilt had been lacking, at last some onehad appeared to sustain the accusation; that experts had declaredthat in fact the work on the schoolhouse could pass for a bulwark offortification, although somewhat defective, as was only to be expectedof ignorant Indians. These rumors calmed him and made him smile.
In the same way that Capitan Tiago and his cousin diverged intheir opinions, the friends of the family were also divided intotwo parties,--one miraculous, the other governmental, although thislatter was insignificant. The miraculous party was again subdivided:the senior sacristan of Binondo, the candle-woman, and the leaderof the Brotherhood saw the hand of God directed by the Virgin of theRosary; while the Chinese wax-chandler, his caterer on his visits toAntipolo, said, as he fanned himself and shook his leg:
"Don't fool yourself--it's the Virgin of Antipolo! She can do morethan all the rest--don't fool yourself!" [168]
Capitan Tiago had great respect for this Chinese, who passed himselfoff as a prophet and a physician. Examining the palm of the deceasedlady just before her daughter was born, he had prognosticated:"If it's not a boy and doesn't die, it'll be a fine girl!" [169] andMaria Clara had come into the world to fulfill the infidel's prophecy.
Capitan Tiago, then, as a prudent and cautious man, could not decideso easily as Trojan Paris--he could not so lightly give the preferenceto one Virgin for fear of offending another, a situation that might befraught with grave consequences. "Prudence!" he said to himself. "Let'snot go and spoil it all now."
He was still in the midst of these doubts when the governmental partyarrived,--Dona Victorina, Don Tiburcio, and Linares. Dona Victorina didthe talking for the three men as well as for herself. She mentionedLinares' visits to the Captain-General and repeatedly insinuatedthe advantages of a relative of "quality." "Now," she concluded,"as we was zaying: he who zhelterz himzelf well, builds a good roof."
"T-the other w-way, w-woman!" corrected the doctor.
For some days now she had been endeavoring to _Andalusize_ her speech,and no one had been able to get this idea out of her head--she wouldsooner have first let them tear off her false frizzes.
"Yez," she went on, speaking of Ibarra, "he deserves it all. I toldyou zo when I first zaw him, he's a filibuzter. What did the Generalzay to you, cousin? What did he zay? What news did he tell you aboutthiz Ibarra?"
Seeing that her cousin was slow in answering, she continued, directingher remarks to Capitan Tiago, "Believe me, if they zentenz him todeath, as is to be hoped, it'll be on account of my cousin."
"Senora, senora!" protested Linares.
But she gave him no time for objections. "How diplomatic you havebecome! We know that you're the adviser of the General, that hecouldn't live without you. Ah, Clarita, what a pleasure to zee you!"
Maria Clara was still pale, although now quite recovered from herillness. Her long hair was tied up with a light blue silk ribbon. Witha timid bow and a sad smile she went up to Dona Victorina for theceremonial kiss.
After the usual conventional remarks, the pseudo-Andalusian continued:"We've come to visit you. You've been zaved, thankz to yourrelations." This was said with a significant glance toward Linares.
"God has protected my father," replied the girl in a low voice.
"Yez, Clarita, but the time of the miracles is pazt. We Zpaniards zay:'Truzt in the Virgin and take to your heels.'"
"T-the other w-way!"
Capitan Tiago, who had up to this point had no chance to speak, nowmade bold enough to ask, while he threw himself into an attitude ofstrict attention, "So you, Dona Victorina, think that the Virgin--"
"We've come ezpezially to talk with you about the virgin," she answeredmysteriously, making a sign toward Maria Clara. "We've come to talkbusiness."
The maiden understood that she was expected to retire, so with anexcuse she went away, supporting herself on the furniture.
What was said and what was agreed upon in this conference was sosordid and mean that we prefer not to recount it. It is enough torecord that as they took their leave they were all merry, and thatafterwards Capitan Tiago said to Aunt Isabel:
"Notify the restaurant that we'll have a fiesta tomorrow. Get Mariaready, for we're going to marry her off before long."
Aunt Isabel stared at him in consternation.
"You'll see! When Senor Linares is our son-in-law we'll get into allthe palaces. Every one will envy us, every one will die of envy!"
Thus it happened that at eight o'clock on the following eveningthe house of Capitan Tiago was once again filled, but this time hisguests were only Spaniards and Chinese. The fair sex was representedby Peninsular and Philippine-Spanish ladies.
There were present the greater part of our acquaintances: Padre Sibylaand Padre Salvi among various Franciscans and Dominicans; the oldlieutenant of the Civil Guard, Senor Guevara, gloomier than ever;the alferez, who was for the thousandth time describing his battleand gazing over his shoulders at every one, believing himself tobe a Don John of Austria, for he was now a major; De Espadana, wholooked at the alferez with respect and fear, and avoided his gaze;and Dona Victorina, swelling with indignation. Linares had not yetcome; as a personage of importance, he had to arrive later than theothers. There are creatures so simple that by being an hour behindtime they transform themselves into great men.
In the group of women Maria Clara was the subject of a murmuredconversation. The maiden had welcomed them all ceremoniously, withoutlosing her air of sadness.
"Pish!" remarked one young woman.
"The proud little thing!"
"Pretty little thing!" responded another. "But he might have pickedout some other girl with a less foolish face."
"The gold, child! The good youth is selling himself."
In another part the comments ran thus:
"To get married when her first fiance is about to be hanged!"
"That's what's called prudence, having a substitute ready."
"Well, when she gets to be a widow--"
Maria Clara was seated in a chair arranging a salver of flowers anddoubtless heard all these remarks, for her hand trembled, she turnedpale, and several times bit her lips.
In the circle of men the conversation was carried on in loud tonesand, naturally, turned upon recent events. All were talking, evenDon Tiburcio, with the exception of Padre Sibyla, who maintained hisusual disdainful silence.
"I've heard it said that your Reverence is leaving the town, PadreSalvi?" inquired the new major, whose fresh star had made him moreamiable.
"I have nothing more to do there. I'm going to stay permanently inManila. And you?"
"I'm also leaving the town," answered the ex-alferez, swelling up. "Thegovernment needs me to command a flying column to clean the provincesof filibusters."
Fray Sibyla looked him over rapidly from head to foot and then turnedhis back completely.
"Is it known for certain what will become of the ringleader, thefilibuster?" inquired a government employee.
"Do you mean Crisostomo Ibarra?" asked another. "The most likely andmost just thing is that he will be hanged, like those of '72."
"He's going to be deported," remarked the old lieutenant, dryly.
"Deported! Nothing more than deported? But it will be a perpetualdeportation!" exclaimed several voices at the same time.
"If that young man," continued the lieutenant, Guevara, in a loudand severe tone, "had been more cautious, if he had confided lessin certain persons with whom he corresponded, if our prosecutors didnot know how to interpret so subtly what is written, that young manwould surely have been acquitted."
This declaration on the part of the old lieutenant and the toneof his voice produced great surprise among his hearers, who wereapparently at a loss to know what to say. Padre Salvi stared inanother direction, perhaps to avoid the gloomy look that the oldsoldier turned on him. Maria Clara let her flowers fall and remainedmotionless. Padre Sibyla, who knew so well how to be silent, seemedalso to be the only one who knew how to ask a question.
"You're speaking of letters, Senor Guevara?"
"I'm speaking of what was told me by his lawyer, who looked after thecase with interest and zeal. Outside of some ambiguous lines which thisyouth wrote to a woman before he left for Europe, lines in which thegovernment's attorney saw a plot and a threat against the government,and which he acknowledged to be his, there wasn't anything found toaccuse him of."
"But the declaration of the outlaw before he died?"
"His lawyer had that thrown out because, according to the outlawhimself, they had never communicated with the young man, but witha certain Lucas, who was an enemy of his, as could be proved, andwho committed suicide, perhaps from remorse. It was proved that thepapers found on the corpse were forged, since the handwriting waslike that of Senor Ibarra's seven years ago, but not like his now,which leads to the belief that the model for them may have been thatincriminating letter. Besides, the lawyer says that if Senor Ibarrahad refused to acknowledge the letter, he might have been able todo a great deal for him--but at sight of the letter he turned pale,lost his courage, and confirmed everything written in it."
"Did you say that the letter was directed to a woman?" asked aFranciscan. "How did it get into the hands of the prosecutor?"
The lieutenant did not answer. He stared for a moment at Padre Salviand then moved away, nervously twisting the sharp point of his graybeard. The others made their comments.
"There is seen the hand of God!" remarked one. "Even the womenhate him."
"He had his house burned down, thinking in that way to save himself,but he didn't count on the guest, on his _querida_, his _babaye_,"added another, laughing. "It's the work of God! _Santiago y cierraEspana!_" [170]
Meanwhile the old soldier paused in his pacing about and approachedMaria Clara, who was listening to the conversation, motionless inher chair, with the flowers scattered at her feet.
"You are a very prudent girl," the old officer whispered to her. "Youdid well to give up the letter. You have thus assured yourself anuntroubled future."
With startled eyes she watched him move away from her, and bit herlip. Fortunately, Aunt Isabel came along, and she had sufficientstrength left to catch hold of the old lady's skirt.
"Aunt!" she murmured.
"What's the matter?" asked the old lady, frightened by the look onthe girl's face.
"Take me to my room!" she pleaded, grasping her aunt's arm in orderto rise.
"Are you sick, daughter? You look as if you'd lost your bones! What'sthe matter?"
"A fainting spell--the people in the room--so many lights--I need torest. Tell father that I'm going to sleep."
"You're cold. Do you want some tea?"
Maria Clara shook her head, entered and locked the door of herchamber, and then, her strength failing her, she fell sobbing to thefloor at the feet of an image.
"Mother, mother, mother mine!" she sobbed.
Through the window and a door that opened on the azotea the moonlightentered. The musicians continued to play merry waltzes, laughterand the hum of voices penetrated into the chamber, several times herfather, Aunt Isabel, Dona Victorina, and even Linares knocked at thedoor, but Maria did not move. Heavy sobs shook her breast.
Hours passed--the pleasures of the dinner-table ended, the sound ofsinging and dancing was heard, the candle burned itself out, but themaiden still remained motionless on the moonlit floor at the feet ofan image of the Mother of Jesus.
Gradually the house became quiet again, the lights were extinguished,and Aunt Isabel once more knocked at the door.
"Well, she's gone to sleep," said the old woman, aloud. "As she'syoung and has no cares, she sleeps like a corpse."
When all was silence she raised herself slowly and threw a look abouther. She saw the azotea with its little arbors bathed in the ghostlylight of the moon.
"An untroubled future! She sleeps like a corpse!" she repeated in alow voice as she made her way out to the azotea.
The city slept. Only from time to time there was heard the noise of acarriage crossing the wooden bridge over the river, whose undisturbedwaters reflected smoothly the light of the moon. The young womanraised her eyes toward a sky as clear as sapphire. Slowly she tookthe rings from her fingers and from her ears and removed the combsfrom her hair. Placing them on the balustrade of the azotea, shegazed toward the river.
A small banka loaded with zacate stopped at the foot of the landingsuch as every house on the bank of the river has. One of two men whowere in it ran up the stone stairway and jumped over the wall, and afew seconds later his footsteps were heard on the stairs leading tothe azotea.
Maria Clara saw him pause on discovering her, but only for amoment. Then he advanced slowly and stopped within a few paces ofher. Maria Clara recoiled.
"Crisostomo!" she murmured, overcome with fright.
"Yes, I am Crisostomo," replied the young man gravely. "An enemy,a man who has every reason for hating me, Elias, has rescued me fromthe prison into which my friends threw me."
A sad silence followed these words. Maria Clara bowed her head andlet her arms fall.
Ibarra went on: "Beside my mother's corpse I swore that I would makeyou happy, whatever might be my destiny! You can have been faithlessto your oath, for she was not your mother; but I, I who am her son,hold her memory so sacred that in spite of a thousand difficulties Ihave come here to carry mine out, and fate has willed that I shouldspeak to you yourself. Maria, we shall never see each other again--youare young and perhaps some day your conscience may reproach you--I have
come to tell you, before I go away forever, that I forgive you. Now,may you be happy and--farewell!"
Ibarra started to move away, but the girl stopped him.
"Crisostomo," she said, "God has sent you to save me fromdesperation. Hear me and then judge me!"
Ibarra tried gently to draw away from her. "I didn't come to callyou to account! I came to give you peace!"
"I don't want that peace which you bring me. Peace I will givemyself. You despise me and your contempt will embitter all the restof my life."
Ibarra read the despair and sorrow depicted in the suffering girl'sface and asked her what she wished.
"That you believe that I have always loved you!"
At this he smiled bitterly.
"Ah, you doubt me! You doubt the friend of your childhood, whohas never hidden a single thought from you!" the maiden exclaimedsorrowfully. "I understand now! But when you hear my story, the sadstory that was revealed to me during my illness, you will have mercyon me, you will not have that smile for my sorrow. Why did you notlet me die in the hands of my ignorant physician? You and I bothwould have been happier!"
Resting a moment, she then went on: "You have desired it, you havedoubted me! But may my mother forgive me! On one of the sorrowfulestof my nights of suffering, a man revealed to me the name of my realfather and forbade me to love you--except that my father himselfshould pardon the injury you had done him."
Ibarra recoiled a pace and gazed fearfully at her.
"Yes," she continued, "that man told me that he could not permit ourunion, since his conscience would forbid it, and that he would beobliged to reveal the name of my real father at the risk of causing agreat scandal, for my father is--" And she murmured into the youth'sear a name in so low a tone that only he could have heard it.
"What was I to do? Must I sacrifice to my love the memory of mymother, the honor of my supposed father, and the good name of thereal one? Could I have done that without having even you despise me?"
"But the proof! Had you any proof? You needed proofs!" exclaimedIbarra, trembling with emotion.
The maiden snatched two papers from her bosom.
"Two letters of my mother's, two letters written in the midst of herremorse, while I was yet unborn! Take them, read them, and you willsee how she cursed me and wished for my death, which my father vainlytried to bring about with drugs. These letters he had forgotten in abuilding where he had lived; the other man found and preserved themand only gave them up to me in exchange for your letter, in orderto assure himself, so he said, that I would not marry you withoutthe consent of my father. Since I have been carrying them about withme, in place of your letter, I have, felt the chill in my heart. Isacrificed you, I sacrificed my love! What else could one do for adead mother and two living fathers? Could I have suspected the usethat was to be made of your letter?"
Ibarra stood appalled, while she continued: "What more was left for meto do? Could I perhaps tell you who my father was, could I tell youthat you should beg forgiveness of him who made your father sufferso much? Could I ask my father that he forgive you, could I tell himthat I knew that I was his daughter--him, who desired my death soeagerly? It was only left to me to suffer, to guard the secret, andto die suffering! Now, my friend, now that you know the sad historyof your poor Maria, will you still have for her that disdainful smile?"
"Maria, you are an angel!"
"Then I am happy, since you believe me--"
"But yet," added the youth with a change of tone, "I've heard thatyou are going to be married."
"Yes," sobbed the girl, "my father demands this sacrifice. He hasloved me and cared for me when it was not his duty to do so, and Iwill pay this debt of gratitude to assure his peace, by means of thisnew relationship, but--"
"But what?"
"I will never forget the vows of faithfulness that I have made to you."
"What are you thinking of doing?" asked Ibarra, trying to read thelook in her eyes.
"The future is dark and my destiny is wrapped in gloom! I don't knowwhat I should do. But know, that I have loved but once and that withoutlove I will never belong to any man. And you, what is going to becomeof you?"
"I am only a fugitive, I am fleeing. In a little while my flight willhave been discovered. Maria--"
Maria Clara caught the youth's head in her hands and kissed himrepeatedly on the lips, embraced him, and drew abruptly away. "Go,go!" she cried. "Go, and farewell!"
Ibarra gazed at her with shining eyes, but at a gesture from hermoved away--intoxicated, wavering.
Once again he leaped over the wall and stepped into the banka. MariaClara, leaning over the balustrade, watched him depart. Elias tookoff his hat and bowed to her profoundly.
