The Social Cancer, by José Rizal - Home

CHAPTER XLII 197
wants were pressing and as his scruples were soon laid to rest by his friends he finally listened to them and
went to the provinces. He began by visiting some sick persons, and at first made only moderate charges, as his
conscience dictated, but later, like the young philosopher of whom Samaniego [117] tells, he ended by putting
a higher price on his visits. Thus he soon passed for a great physician and would probably have made his
fortune if the medical authorities in Manila had not heard of his exorbitant fees and the competition that he
was causing others. Both private parties and professionals interceded for him. "Man," they said to the zealous
medical official, "let him make his stake and as soon as he has six or seven thousand pesos he can go back
home and live there in peace. After all, what does it matter to you if he does deceive the unwary Indians?
They should be more careful! He's a poor devil--don't take the bread from his mouth--be a good Spaniard!"
This official was a good Spaniard and agreed to wink at the matter, but the news soon reached the ears of the
people and they began to distrust him, so in a little while he lost his practise and again saw himself obliged
almost to beg his daily bread. It was then that he learned through a friend, who was an intimate acquaintance
of Doña Victorina's, of the dire straits in which that lady was placed and also of her patriotism and her kind
heart. Don Tiburcio then saw a patch of blue sky and asked to be introduced to her.
Doña Victorina and Don Tiburcio met: tarde venientibus ossa, [118] he would have exclaimed had he known
Latin! She was no longer passable, she was passée. Her abundant hair had been reduced to a knot about the
size of an onion, according to her maid, while her face was furrowed with wrinkles and her teeth were falling
loose. Her eyes, too, had suffered considerably, so that she squinted frequently in looking any distance. Her
disposition was the only part of her that remained intact.
At the end of a half-hour's conversation they understood and accepted each other. She would have preferred a
Spaniard who was less lame, less stuttering, less bald, less toothless, who slobbered less when he talked, and
who had more "spirit" and "quality," as she used to say, but that class of Spaniards no longer came to seek her
hand. She had more than once heard it said that opportunity is pictured as being bald, and firmly believed that
Don Tiburcio was opportunity itself, for as a result of his misfortunes he suffered from premature baldness.
And what woman is not prudent at thirty-two years of age?
Don Tiburcio, for his part, felt a vague melancholy when he thought of his honeymoon, but smiled with
resignation and called to his support the specter of hunger. Never had he been ambitious or pretentious; his
tastes were simple and his desires limited; but his heart, untouched till then, had dreamed of a very different
divinity. Back there in his youth when, worn out with work, he lay doom on his rough bed after a frugal meal,
he used to fall asleep dreaming of an image, smiling and tender. Afterwards, when troubles and privations
increased and with the passing of years the poetical image failed to materialize, he thought modestly of a good
woman, diligent and industrious, who would bring him a small dowry, to console him for the fatigues of his
toil and to quarrel with him now and then--yes, he had thought of quarrels as a kind of happiness! But when
obliged to wander from land to land in search not so much of fortune as of some simple means of livelihood
for the remainder of his days; when, deluded by the stories of his countrymen from overseas, he had set out
for the Philippines, realism gave, place to an arrogant mestiza or a beautiful Indian with big black eyes,
gowned in silks and transparent draperies, loaded down with gold and diamonds, offering him her love, her
carriages, her all. When he reached Manila he thought for a time that his dream was to be realized, for the
young women whom he saw driving on the Luneta and the Malecon in silver-mounted carriages had gazed at
him with some curiosity. Then after his position was gone, the mestiza and the Indian disappeared and with
great effort he forced before himself the image of a widow, of course an agreeable widow! So when he saw
his dream take shape in part he became sad, but with a certain touch of native philosophy said to himself,
"Those were all dreams and in this world one does not live on dreams!" Thus he dispelled his doubts: she used
rice-powder, but after their marriage he would break her of the habit; her face had many wrinkles, but his coat
was torn and patched; she was a pretentious old woman, domineering and mannish, but hunger was more
terrible, more domineering and pretentious still, and anyway, he had been blessed with a mild disposition for
that very end, and love softens the character. She spoke Spanish badly, but he himself did not talk it well, as
he had been told when notified of his dismissal Moreover, what did it matter to him if she was an ugly and
ridiculous old woman? He was lame, toothless, and bald! Don Tiburcio preferred to take charge of her rather