The Social Cancer, by José Rizal - Home

CHAPTER XLII 198
than to become a public charge from hunger. When some friends joked with him about it, he answered, "Give
me bread and call me a fool."
Don Tiburcio was one of those men who are popularly spoken of as unwilling to harm a fly. Modest,
incapable of harboring an unkind thought, in bygone days he would have been made a missionary. His stay in
the country had not given him the conviction of grand superiority, of great valor, and of elevated importance
that the greater part of his countrymen acquire in a few weeks. His heart had never been capable of
entertaining hate nor had he been able to find a single filibuster; he saw only unhappy wretches whom he must
despoil if he did not wish to be more unhappy than they were. When he was threatened with prosecution for
passing himself off as a physician he was not resentful nor did he complain. Recognizing the justness of the
charge against him, he merely answered, "But it's necessary to live!"
So they married, or rather, bagged each other, and went to Santa Ann to spend their honeymoon. But on their
wedding-night Doña Victorina was attacked by a horrible indigestion and Don Tiburcio thanked God and
showed himself solicitous and attentive. A few days afterward, however, he looked into a mirror and smiled a
sad smile as he gazed at his naked gums, for he had aged ten years at least.
Very well satisfied with her husband, Doña Victorina had a fine set of false teeth made for him and called in
the best tailors of the city to attend to his clothing. She ordered carriages, sent to Batangas and Albay for the
best ponies, and even obliged him to keep a pair for the races. Nor did she neglect her own person while she
was transforming him. She laid aside the native costume for the European and substituted false frizzes for the
simple Filipino coiffure, while her gowns, which fitted her marvelously ill, disturbed the peace of all the quiet
neighborhood.
Her husband, who never went out on foot,--she did not care to have his lameness noticed,--took her on lonely
drives in unfrequented places to her great sorrow, for she wanted to show him off in public, but she kept quiet
out of respect for their honeymoon. The last quarter was coming on when he took up the subject of the
rice-powder, telling her that the use of it was false and unnatural. Doña Victorina wrinkled up her eyebrows
and stared at his false teeth. He became silent, and she understood his weakness.
She placed a de before her husband's surname, since the de cost nothing and gave "quality" to the name,
signing herself "Victorina de los Reyes de De Espadaña." This de was such a mania with her that neither the
stationer nor her husband could get it out of her head. "If I write only one de it may be thought that you don't
have it, you fool!" she said to her husband. [119]
Soon she believed that she was about to become a mother, so she announced to all her acquaintances, "Next
month De Espadaña and I are going to the Penyinsula. I don't want our son to be born here and be called a
revolutionist." She talked incessantly of the journey, having memorized the names of the different ports of
call, so that it was a treat to hear her talk: "I'm going to see the isthmus in the Suez Canal--De Espadaña thinks
it very beautiful and De Espadaña has traveled over the whole world." "I'll probably not return to this land of
savages." "I wasn't born to live here--Aden or Port Said would suit me better--I've thought so ever since I was
a girl." In her geography Doña Victorina divided the world into the Philippines and Spain; rather differently
from the clever people who divide it into Spain and America or China for another name.
Her husband realized that these things were barbarisms, but held his peace to escape a scolding or reminders
of his stuttering. To increase the illusion of approaching maternity she became whimsical, dressed herself in
colors with a profusion of flowers and ribbons, and appeared on the Escolta in a wrapper. But oh, the
disenchantment! Three months went by and the dream faded, and now, having no reason for fearing that her
son would be a revolutionist, she gave up the trip. She consulted doctors, midwives, old women, but all in
vain. Having to the great displeasure of Capitan Tiago jested about St. Pascual Bailon, she was unwilling to
appeal to any saint. For this reason a friend of her husband's remarked to her: