The Social Cancer, by José Rizal - Home

CHAPTER XXIII 108
CHAPTER XXIII
Fishing
The stars still glittered in the sapphire arch of heaven and the birds were still sleeping among the branches
when a merry party, lighted by torches of resin, commonly called huepes, made its way through the streets
toward the lake. There were five girls, who walked along rapidly with hands clasped or arms encircling one
another's waists, followed by some old women and by servants who were carrying gracefully on their heads
baskets of food and dishes. Looking upon the laughing and hopeful countenances of the young women and
watching the wind blow about their abundant black hair and the wide folds of their garments, we might have
taken them for goddesses of the night fleeing from the day, did we not know that they were Maria Clara and
her four friends, the merry Sinang, the grave Victoria, the beautiful Iday, and the thoughtful Neneng of
modest and timid beauty. They were conversing in a lively manner, laughing and pinching one another,
whispering in one another's ears and then breaking out into loud laughter.
"You'll wake up the people who are still asleep," Aunt Isabel scolded. "When we were young, we didn't make
so much disturbance."
"Neither would you get up so early nor would the old folks have been such sleepy-heads," retorted little
Sinang.
They were silent for a short time, then tried to talk in low tones, but soon forgot themselves and again filled
the street with their fresh young voices.
"Behave as if you were displeased and don't talk to him," Sinang was advising Maria Clara. "Scold him so he
won't get into bad habits."
"Don't be so exacting," objected Iday.
"Be exacting! Don't be foolish! He must be made to obey while he's only engaged, for after he's your husband
he'll do as he pleases," counseled little Sinang.
"What do you know about that, child?" her cousin Victoria corrected her.
"Sst! Keep quiet, for here they come!"
A group of young men, lighting their way with large bamboo torches, now came up, marching gravely along
to the sound of a guitar.
"It sounds like a beggar's guitar," laughed Sinang. When the two parties met it was the women who
maintained a serious and formal attitude, just as if they had never known how to laugh, while on the other
hand the men talked and laughed, asking six questions to get half an answer.
"Is the lake calm? Do you think we'll have good weather?" asked the mothers.
"Don't be alarmed, ladies, I know how to swim well," answered a tall, thin, emaciated youth.
"We ought to have heard mass first," sighed Aunt Isabel, clasping her hands.
"There's yet time, ma'am. Albino has been a theological student in his day and can say it in the boat,"
remarked another youth, pointing to the tall, thin one who had first spoken. The latter, who had a clownish
countenance, threw himself into an attitude of contrition, caricaturing Padre Salvi. Ibarra, though he