The Social Cancer, by José Rizal - Home

CHAPTER LIX 271
Inveni remedium: I've found a remedy. Let's carry him to bed. Come, take courage! Here I am with you--and
all the wisdom of the ancients. Call a doctor, and you, cousin, go right away to the Captain-General and take
him a present--a gold ring, a chain. Dadivae quebrantant peñas. [161] Say that it's a Christmas gift. Close the
windows, the doors, and if any one asks for my cousin, say that he is seriously ill. Meanwhile, I'll burn all his
letters, papers, and books, so that they can't find anything, just as Don Crisostomo did. Scripti testes sunt!
Quod medicamenta non sanant, ferrum sanat, quod ferrum non sanat, ignis sanat." [162]
"Yes, do so, cousin, burn everything!" said Capitana Tinchang. "Here are the keys, here are the letters from
Capitan Tiago. Burn them! Don't leave a single European newspaper, for they're very dangerous. Here are the
copies of The Times that I've kept for wrapping up soap and old clothes. Here are the books."
"Go to the Captain-General, cousin," said Don Primitivo, "and leave us alone. In extremis extrema. [163] Give
me the authority of a Roman dictator, and you'll see how soon I'll save the coun--I mean, my cousin."
He began to give orders and more orders, to upset bookcases, to tear up papers, books, and letters. Soon a big
fire was burning in the kitchen. Old shotguns were smashed with axes, rusty revolvers were thrown away. The
maidservant who wanted to keep the barrel of one for a blowpipe received a reprimand:
"Conservare etiam sperasti, perfida? [164] Into the fire!" So he continued his auto da fé. Seeing an old
volume in vellum, he read the title, Revolutions of the Celestial Globes, by Copernicus. Whew! "Ite,
maledicti, in ignem kalanis!" [165] he exclaimed, hurling it into the flames. "Revolutions and Copernicus!
Crimes on crimes! If I hadn't come in time! Liberty in the Philippines! Ta, ta, ta! What books! Into the fire!"
Harmless books, written by simple authors, were burned; not even the most innocent work escaped. Cousin
Primitivo was right: the righteous suffer for the sinners.
Four or five hours later, at a pretentious reception in the Walled City, current events were being commented
upon. There were present a lot of old women and maidens of marriageable age, the wives and daughters of
government employees, dressed in loose gowns, fanning themselves and yawning. Among the men, who, like
the women, showed in their faces their education and origin, was an elderly gentleman, small and one-armed,
whom the others treated with great respect. He himself maintained a disdainful silence.
"To tell the truth, formerly I couldn't endure the friars and the civil-guards, they're so rude," said a corpulent
dame, "but now that I see their usefulness and their services, I would almost marry any one of them gladly.
I'm a patriot."
"That's what I say!" added a thin lady. "What a pity that we haven't our former governor. He would leave the
country as clean as a platter."
"And the whole race of filibusters would be exterminated!"
"Don't they say that there are still a lot of islands to be populated? Why don't they deport all these crazy
Indians to them? If I were the Captain-General--"
"Señoras," interrupted the one-armed individual, "the Captain-General knows his duty. As I've heard, he's
very much irritated, for he had heaped favors on that Ibarra."
"Heaped favors on him!" echoed the thin lady, fanning herself furiously. "Look how ungrateful these Indians
are! Is it possible to treat them as if they were human beings? Jesús!"
"Do you know what I've heard?" asked a military official.