The Social Cancer, by José Rizal - Home

CHAPTER XL 189
of warlike shows and bloody fights; democratic, yet adoring emperors, kings, and princes; irreligious, yet
impoverishing itself by costly religious pageants. Our women have gentle natures yet go wild with joy when a
princess flourishes a lance. Do you know to what it is due? Well--"
The arrival of Maria Clara and her friends put an end to this conversation. Don Filipo met them and ushered
them to their seats. Behind them came the curate with another Franciscan and some Spaniards. Following the
priests were a number of the townsmen who make it their business to escort the friars. "May God reward them
also in the next life," muttered old Tasio as he went away.
The play began with Chananay and Marianito in Crispino é la comare. All now had their eyes and ears turned
to the stage, all but one: Padre Salvi, who seemed to have gone there for no other purpose than that of
watching Maria Clara, whose sadness gave to her beauty an air so ideal and interesting that it was easy to
understand how she might be looked upon with rapture. But the eyes of the Franciscan, deeply hidden in their
sunken sockets, spoke nothing of rapture. In that gloomy gaze was to be read something desperately sad--with
such eyes Cain might have gazed from afar on the Paradise whose delights his mother pictured to him!
The first scene was over when Ibarra entered. His appearance caused a murmur, and attention was fixed on
him and the curate. But the young man seemed not to notice anything as he greeted Maria Clara and her
friends in a natural way and took a seat beside them.
The only one who spoke to him was Sinang. "Did you see the fireworks?" 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 stories of the damned--can you imagine it!--to fill us
with fear so that we might not enjoy ourselves--can you imagine it!"
The curate arose and approached Don Filipo, with whom he began an animated conversation. The former
spoke in a nervous manner, the latter in a low, measured voice.
"I'm sorry that I can't please your Reverence," said Don Filipo, "but Señor Ibarra is one of the heaviest
contributors and has a right to be here as long as he doesn't disturb the peace."
"But isn't it disturbing the peace to scandalize good Christians? It's letting a wolf enter the fold. You will
answer for this to God and the 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 not empower me to mix in religious affairs. Those who wish to avoid contact
with him need not talk to him. Señor Ibarra forces himself on no one."
"But it's giving opportunity for danger, and he who loves danger perishes 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 afternoon and 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 curate repented of his threat, but it was too late to
retract, so he made a sign to his companion, who arose with regret, and the two went out together. The persons
attached to them followed their example, casting looks of hatred at Ibarra.
The murmurs and whispers increased. A number of people approached the young man and said to him, "We're