Noli Me Tángere

atriotism and Private Interests

Secretly the telegraph transmitted the report to Manila, and thirty-six
hours later the newspapers commented on it with great mystery and not
a few dark hints--augmented, corrected, or mutilated by the censor. In
the meantime, private reports, emanating from the convents, were the
first to gain secret currency from mouth to mouth, to the great terror
of those who heard them. The fact, distorted in a thousand ways,
was believed with greater or less ease according to whether it was
flattering or worked contrary to the passions and ways of thinking
of each hearer.

Without public tranquillity seeming disturbed, at least outwardly,
yet the peace of mind of each home was whirled about like the water in
a pond: while the surface appears smooth and clear, in the depths the
silent fishes swarm, dive about, and chase one another. For one part
of the population crosses, decorations, epaulets, offices, prestige,
power, importance, dignities began to whirl about like butterflies
in a golden atmosphere. For the other part a dark cloud arose on the
horizon, projecting from its gray depths, like black silhouettes,
bars, chains, and even the fateful gibbet. In the air there seemed to
be heard investigations, condemnations, and the cries from the torture
chamber; Marianas [145] and Bagumbayan presented themselves wrapped
in a torn and bloody veil, fishers and fished confused. Fate pictured
the event to the imaginations of the Manilans like certain Chinese
fans--one side painted black, the other gilded with bright-colored
birds and flowers.

In the convents the greatest excitement prevailed. Carriages
were harnessed, the Provincials exchanged visits and held secret
conferences; they presented themselves in the palaces to offer their
aid to the government in its perilous crisis. Again there was talk
of comets and omens.

"A Te Deum! A Te Deum!" cried a friar in one convent. "This time
let no one be absent from the chorus! It's no small mercy from God
to make it clear just now, especially in these hopeless times, how
much we are worth!"

"The little general Mal-Aguero [146] can gnaw his lips over this
lesson," responded another.

"What would have become of him if not for the religious corporations?"

"And to celebrate the fiesta better, serve notice on the cook and
the refectioner. Gaudeamus for three days!"

"Amen!" "Viva Salvi!" "Amen!"

In another convent they talked differently.

"You see, now, that fellow is a pupil of the Jesuits. The filibusters
come from the Ateneo."

"And the anti-friars."

"I told you so. The Jesuits are ruining the country, they're corrupting
the youth, but they are tolerated because they trace a few scrawls
on a piece of paper when there is an earthquake."

"And God knows how they are made!"

"Yes, but don't contradict them. When everything is shaking and moving
about, who draws diagrams? Nothing, Padre Secchi--" [147]

And they smiled with sovereign disdain.

"But what about the weather forecasts and the typhoons?" asked another
ironically. "Aren't they divine?"

"Any fisherman foretells them!"

"When he who governs is a fool--tell me how your head is and I'll
tell you how your foot is! But you'll see if the friends favor one
another. The newspapers very nearly ask a miter for Padre Salvi."

"He's going to get it! He'll lick it right up!"

"Do you think so?"

"Why not! Nowadays they grant one for anything whatsoever. I know
of a fellow who got one for less. He wrote a cheap little work
demonstrating that the Indians are not capable of being anything but
mechanics. Pshaw, old-fogyisms!"

"That's right! So much favoritism injures Religion!" exclaimed
another. "If the miters only had eyes and could see what heads they
were upon--"

"If the miters were natural objects," added another in a nasal tone,
"Natura abhorrer vacuum."

"That's why they grab for them, their emptiness attracts!" responded
another.

These and many more things were said in the convents, but we will
spare our reader other comments of a political, metaphysical, or
piquant nature and conduct him to a private house. As we have few
acquaintances in Manila, let us enter the home of Capitan Tinong,
the polite individual whom we saw so profusely inviting Ibarra to
honor him with a visit.

In the rich and spacious sala of his Tondo house, Capitan Tinong was
seated in a wide armchair, rubbing his hands in a gesture of despair
over his face and the nape of his neck, while his wife, Capitana
Tinchang, was weeping and preaching to him. From the corner their
two daughters listened silently and stupidly, yet greatly affected.

"Ay, Virgin of Antipolo!" cried the woman. "Ay, Virgin of the Rosary
and of the Girdle! [148] Ay, ay! Our Lady of Novaliches!"

"Mother!" responded the elder of the daughters.

"I told you so!" continued the wife in an accusing tone. "I told you
so! Ay, Virgin of Carmen, [149] ay!"

"But you didn't tell me anything," Capitan Tinong dared to answer
tearfully. "On the contrary, you told me that I was doing well to
frequent Capitan Tiago's house and cultivate friendship with him,
because he's rich--and you told me--"

"What! What did I tell you? I didn't tell you that, I didn't tell
you anything! Ay, if you had only listened to me!"

"Now you're throwing the blame on me," he replied bitterly, slapping
the arm of his chair. "Didn't you tell me that I had done well to
invite him to dine with us, because he was wealthy? Didn't you say
that we ought to have friends only among the wealthy? Abá!"

"It's true that I told you so, because--because there wasn't anything
else for me to do. You did nothing but sing his praises: Don Ibarra
here, Don Ibarra there, Don Ibarra everywhere. Abaá! But I
didn't advise you to hunt him up and talk to him at that reception! You
can't deny that!"

"Did I know that he was to be there, perhaps?"

"But you ought to have known it!"

"How so, if I didn't even know him?"

"But you ought to have known him!"

"But, Tinchang, it was the first time that I ever saw him, that I
ever heard him spoken of!"

"Well then, you ought to have known him before and heard him spoken
of. That's what you're a man for and wear trousers and read El Diario
de Manila," [150] answered his unterrified spouse, casting on him
a terrible look.

To this Capitan Tinong did not know what to reply. Capitana Tinchang,
however, was not satisfied with this victory, but wished to silence him
completely. So she approached him with clenched fists. "Is this what
I've worked for, year after year, toiling and saving, that you by your
stupidity may throw away the fruits of my labor?" she scolded. "Now
they'll come to deport you, they'll take away all our property, just
as they did from the wife of--Oh, if I were a man, if I were a man!"

Seeing that her husband bowed his head, she again fell to sobbing,
but still repeating, "Ay, if I were a man, if I were a man!"

"Well, if you were a man," the provoked husband at length asked,
"what would you do?"

"What would I do? Well--well--well, this very minute I'd go to the
Captain-General and offer to fight against the rebels, this very
minute!"

"But haven't you seen what the Diario says? Read it: 'The vile
and infamous treason has been suppressed with energy, strength, and
vigor, and soon the rebellious enemies of the Fatherland and their
accomplices will feel all the weight and severity of the law.' Don't
you see it? There isn't any more rebellion."

"That doesn't matter! You ought to offer yourself as they did in '72;
[151] they saved themselves."

"Yes, that's what was done by Padre Burg--"

But he was unable to finish this name, for his wife ran to him and
slapped her hand over his mouth. "Shut up! Are you saying that name
so that they may garrote you tomorrow on Bagumbayan? Don't you know
that to pronounce it is enough to get yourself condemned without
trial? Keep quiet!"

However Capitan Tinong may have felt about obeying her, he could
hardly have done otherwise, for she had his mouth covered with both
her hands, pressing his little head against the back of the chair,
so that the poor fellow might have been smothered to death had not
a new personage appeared on the scene. This was their cousin, Don
Primitivo, who had memorized the "Amat," a man of some forty years,
plump, big-paunched, and elegantly dressed.

"Quid video?" he exclaimed as he entered. "What's
happening? Quare?" [152]

"Ay, cousin!" cried the woman, running toward him in tears, "I've
sent for you because I don't know what's going to become of us. What
do you advise? Speak, you've studied Latin and know how to argue."

"But first, quid quaeritis? Nihil est in intellectu quod prius non
fuerit in sensu; nihil volitum quin praecognitum." [153]

He sat down gravely and, just as if the Latin phrases had possessed
a soothing virtue, the couple ceased weeping and drew nearer to him
to hang upon the advice from his lips, as at one time the Greeks did
before the words of salvation from the oracle that was to free them
from the Persian invaders.

"Why do you weep? Ubinam gentium sumus?" [154]

"You've already heard of the uprising?"

"Alzamentum Ibarrae ab alferesio Guardiae Civilis destructum? Et
nunc? [155] What! Does Don Crisostomo owe you anything?"

"No, but you know, Tinong invited him to dinner and spoke to him
on the Bridge of Spain--in broad daylight! They'll say that he's a
friend of his!"

"A friend of his!" exclaimed the startled Latinist, rising. "Amice,
amicus Plato sed magis amica veritas. Birds of a feather flock
together. Malum est negotium et est timendum rerum istarum
horrendissimum resultatum! [156] Ahem!"

Capitan Tinong turned deathly pale at hearing so many words in um;
such a sound presaged ill. His wife clasped her hands supplicatingly
and said:

"Cousin, don't talk to us in Latin now. You know that we're not
philosophers like you. Let's talk in Spanish or Tagalog. Give us
some advice."

"It's a pity that you don't understand Latin, cousin. Truths in
Latin are lies in Tagalog; for example, contra principia negantem
fustibus est arguendum [157] in Latin is a truth like Noah's ark,
but I put it into practise once and I was the one who got whipped. So,
it's a pity that you don't know Latin. In Latin everything would be
straightened out."

"We, too, know many oremus, parcenobis, and Agnus Dei Catolis,
[158] but now we shouldn't understand one another. Provide Tinong
with an argument so that they won't hang him!"

"You're done wrong, very wrong, cousin, in cultivating friendship
with that young man," replied the Latinist.

"The righteous suffer for the sinners. I was almost going to advise you
to make your will. Vae illis! Ubi est fumus ibi est ignis! Similis
simili audet; atqui Ibarra ahorcatur, ergo ahorcaberis--" [159]
With this he shook his head from side to side disgustedly.

"Saturnino, what's the matter?" cried Capitana Tinchang in dismay. "Ay,
he's dead! A doctor! Tinong, Tinongoy!"

The two daughters ran to her, and all three fell to weeping. "It's
nothing more than a swoon, cousin! I would have been more pleased
that--that--but unfortunately it's only a swoon. Non timeo mortem
in catre sed super espaldonem Bagumbayanis. [160] Get some water!"

"Don't die!" sobbed the wife. "Don't die, for they'll come and arrest
you! Ay, if you die and the soldiers come, ay, ay!"

The learned cousin rubbed the victim's face with water until he
recovered consciousness. "Come, don't cry. Inveni remedium: I've
found a remedy. Let's carry him to bed. Come, take courage! Here I am
with you--and all the wisdom of the ancients. Call a doctor, and you,
cousin, go right away to the Captain-General and take him a present--a
gold ring, a chain. Dadivae quebrantant peñas. [161] Say that it's
a Christmas gift. Close the windows, the doors, and if any one asks
for my cousin, say that he is seriously ill. Meanwhile, I'll burn all
his letters, papers, and books, so that they can't find anything,
just as Don Crisostomo did. Scripti testes sunt! Quod medicamenta
non sanant, ferrum sanat, quod ferrum non sanat, ignis sanat." [162]

"Yes, do so, cousin, burn everything!" said Capitana Tinchang. "Here
are the keys, here are the letters from Capitan Tiago. Burn them! Don't
leave a single European newspaper, for they're very dangerous. Here
are the copies of The Times that I've kept for wrapping up soap
and old clothes. Here are the books."

"Go to the Captain-General, cousin," said Don Primitivo, "and leave
us alone. In extremis extrema. [163] Give me the authority of a
Roman dictator, and you'll see how soon I'll save the coun--I mean,
my cousin."

He began to give orders and more orders, to upset bookcases, to tear
up papers, books, and letters. Soon a big fire was burning in the
kitchen. Old shotguns were smashed with axes, rusty revolvers were
thrown away. The maidservant who wanted to keep the barrel of one
for a blowpipe received a reprimand:

"Conservare etiam sperasti, perfida? [164] Into the fire!" So
he continued his auto da fé. Seeing an old volume in vellum,
he read the title, Revolutions of the Celestial Globes,
by Copernicus. Whew! "Ite, maledicti, in ignem kalanis!"
[165] he exclaimed, hurling it into the flames. "Revolutions and
Copernicus! Crimes on crimes! If I hadn't come in time! Liberty in
the Philippines! Ta, ta, ta! What books! Into the fire!"

Harmless books, written by simple authors, were burned; not even the
most innocent work escaped. Cousin Primitivo was right: the righteous
suffer for the sinners.

Four or five hours later, at a pretentious reception in the Walled
City, current events were being commented upon. There were present
a lot of old women and maidens of marriageable age, the wives and
daughters of government employees, dressed in loose gowns, fanning
themselves and yawning. Among the men, who, like the women, showed
in their faces their education and origin, was an elderly gentleman,
small and one-armed, whom the others treated with great respect. He
himself maintained a disdainful silence.

"To tell the truth, formerly I couldn't endure the friars and the
civil-guards, they're so rude," said a corpulent dame, "but now that
I see their usefulness and their services, I would almost marry any
one of them gladly. I'm a patriot."

"That's what I say!" added a thin lady. "What a pity that we haven't
our former governor. He would leave the country as clean as a platter."

"And the whole race of filibusters would be exterminated!"

"Don't they say that there are still a lot of islands to be
populated? Why don't they deport all these crazy Indians to them? If
I were the Captain-General--"

"Señoras," interrupted the one-armed individual, "the Captain-General
knows his duty. As I've heard, he's very much irritated, for he had
heaped favors on that Ibarra."

"Heaped favors on him!" echoed the thin lady, fanning herself
furiously. "Look how ungrateful these Indians are! Is it possible to
treat them as if they were human beings? Jesús!"

"Do you know what I've heard?" asked a military official.

"What's that?"

"Let's hear it!"

"What do they say?"

"Reputable persons," replied the officer in the midst of a profound
silence, "state that this agitation for building a schoolhouse was
a pure fairy tale."

"Jesús! Just see that!" the señoras exclaimed, already believing
in the trick.

"The school was a pretext. What he wanted to build was a fort from
which he could safely defend himself when we should come to attack
him."

"What infamy! Only an Indian is capable of such cowardly thoughts,"
exclaimed the fat lady. "If I were the Captain-General they would
soon seem they would soon see--"

"That's what I say!" exclaimed the thin lady, turning to the one-armed
man. "Arrest all the little lawyers, priestlings, merchants, and
without trial banish or deport them! Tear out the evil by the roots!"

"But it's said that this filibuster is the descendant of Spaniards,"
observed the one-armed man, without looking at any one in particular.

"Oh, yes!" exclaimed the fat lady, unterrified. "It's always the
creoles! No Indian knows anything about revolution! Rear crows,
rear crows!" [166]

"Do you know what I've heard?" asked a creole lady, to change the topic
of conversation. "The wife of Capitan Tinong, you remember her, the
woman in whose house we danced and dined during the fiesta of Tondo--"

"The one who has two daughters? What about her?"

"Well, that woman just this afternoon presented the Captain-General
with a ring worth a thousand pesos!"

The one-armed man turned around. "Is that so? Why?" he asked with
shining eyes.

"She said that it was a Christmas gift--"

"But Christmas doesn't come for a month yet!"

"Perhaps she's afraid the storm is blowing her way," observed the
fat lady.

"And is getting under cover," added the thin señora.

"When no return is asked, it's a confession of guilt."

"This must be carefully looked into," declared the one-armed man
thoughtfully. "I fear that there's a cat in the bag."

"A cat in the bag, yes! That's just what I was going to say," echoed
the thin lady.

"And so was I," said the other, taking the words out of her mouth,
"the wife of Capitan Tinong is so stingy--she hasn't yet sent us
any present and that after we've been in her house. So, when such
a grasping and covetous woman lets go of a little present worth a
thousand pesos--"

"But, is it a fact?" inquired the one-armed man.

"Certainly! Most certainly! My cousin's sweetheart, his Excellency's
adjutant, told her so. And I'm of the opinion that it's the very same
ring that the older daughter wore on the day of the fiesta. She's
always covered with diamonds."

"A walking show-case!"

"A way of attracting attention, like any other! Instead of buying a
fashion plate or paying a dressmaker--"

Giving some pretext, the one-armed man left the gathering. Two hours
later, when the world slept, various residents of Tondo received an
invitation through some soldiers. The authorities could not consent
to having certain persons of position and property sleep in such
poorly guarded and badly ventilated houses--in Fort Santiago and
other government buildings their sleep would be calmer and more
refreshing. Among these favored persons was included the unfortunate
Capitan Tinong.