The Social Cancer, by José Rizal - Home

CHAPTER XXXI 152
"Then--keep on going!" answered the latter, who was a casuist.
But in spite of the cries and gestures of the preacher many fell asleep or wandered in their attention, since
these sermons were ever the same. In vain some devout women tried to sigh and sob over the sins of the
wicked; they had to desist in the attempt from lack of supporters. Even Sister Puté was thinking of something
quite different. A man beside her had dropped off to sleep in such a way that he had fallen over and crushed
her habit, so the good woman caught up one of her clogs and with blows began to wake him, crying out, "Get
away, savage, brute, devil, carabao, cur, accursed!"
Naturally, this caused somewhat of a stir. The preacher paused and arched his eyebrows, surprised at so great
a scandal. Indignation choked the words in his throat and he was able only to bellow, while he pounded the
pulpit with his fists. This had the desired effect, however, for the old woman, though still grumbling, dropped
her clog and, crossing herself repeatedly, fell devoutly upon her knees.
"Aaah! Aaah!" the indignant priest was at last able to roar out as he crossed his arms and shook his head. "For
this do I preach to you the whole morning, savages! Here in the house of God you quarrel and curse,
shameless ones! Aaaah! You respect nothing! This is the result of the luxury and the looseness of the age!
That's just what I've told you, aah!"
Upon this theme he continued to preach for half an hour. The alcalde snored, and Maria Clara nodded, for the
poor child could no longer keep from sleeping, since she had no more paintings or images to study, nor
anything else to amuse her. On Ibarra the words and allusions made no more impression, for he was thinking
of a cottage on the top of a mountain and saw Maria Clara in the garden; let men crawl about in their
miserable towns in the depths of the valley!
Padre Salvi had caused the altar bell to be rung twice, but this was only adding fuel to the flame, for Padre
Damaso became stubborn and prolonged the sermon. Fray Sibyla gnawed at his lips and repeatedly adjusted
his gold-mounted eye-glasses. Fray Manuel Martin was the only one who appeared to listen with pleasure, for
he was smiling.
But at last God said "Enough"; the orator became weary and descended from the pulpit. All knelt to render
thanks to God. The alcalde rubbed his eyes, stretched out one arm as if to waken himself, and yawned with a
deep aah. The mass continued.
When all were kneeling and the priests had lowered their heads while the Incarnatus est was being sung, a
man murmured in Ibarra's ear, "At the laying of the cornerstone, don't move away from the curate, don't go
down into the trench, don't go near the stone--your life depends upon it!"
Ibarra turned to see Elias, who, as soon as he had said this, disappeared in the crowd.