The Social Cancer, by José Rizal - Home

CHAPTER LXII 287
"While he lived," the girl continued, "I thought of struggling, I was hoping, trusting! I wanted to live so that I
might hear of him, but now that they have killed him, now there is no reason why I should live and suffer."
She spoke in low, measured tones, calmly, tearlessly.
"But, foolish girl, isn't Linares a thousand times better than--"
"While he lived, I could have married--I thought of running away afterwards--my father wants only the
relationship! But now that he is dead, no other man shall call me wife! While he was alive I could debase
myself, for there would have remained the consolation that he lived and perhaps thought of me, but now that
he is dead--the nunnery or the tomb!"
The girl's voice had a ring of firmness in it such that Padre Damaso lost his merry air and became very
thoughtful.
"Did you love him as much as that?" he stammered.
Maria Clara did not answer. Padre Damaso dropped his head on his chest and remained silent for a long time.
"Daughter in God," he exclaimed at length in a broken voice, "forgive me for having made you unhappy
without knowing it. I was thinking of your future, I desired your happiness. How could I permit you to marry
a native of the country, to see you an unhappy wife and a wretched mother? I couldn't get that love out of your
head even though I opposed it with all my might. I committed wrongs, for you, solely for you. If you had
become his wife you would have mourned afterwards over the condition of your husband, exposed to all kinds
of vexations without means of defense. As a mother you would have mourned the fate of your sons: if you had
educated them, you would have prepared for them a sad future, for they would have become enemies of
Religion and you would have seen them garroted or exiled; if you had kept them ignorant, you would have
seen them tyrannized over and degraded. I could not consent to it! For this reason I sought for you a husband
that could make you the happy mother of sons who would command and not obey, who would punish and not
suffer. I knew that the friend of your childhood was good, I liked him as well as his father, but I have hated
them both since I saw that they were going to bring about your unhappiness, because I love you, I adore you, I
love you as one loves his own daughter! Yours is my only affection; I have seen you grow--not an hour has
passed that I have not thought of you--I dreamed of you--you have been my only joy!"
Here Padre Damaso himself broke out into tears like a child.
"Then, as you love me, don't make me eternally wretched. He no longer lives, so I want to be a nun!"
The old priest rested his forehead on his hand. "To be a nun, a nun!" he repeated. "You don't know, child,
what the life is, the mystery that is hidden behind the walls of the nunnery, you don't know! A thousand times
would I prefer to see you unhappy in the world rather than in the cloister. Here your complaints can be heard,
there you will have only the walls. You are beautiful, very beautiful, and you were not born for that--to be a
bride of Christ! Believe me, little girl, time will wipe away everything. Later on you will forget, you will love,
you will love your husband--Linares."
"The nunnery or--death!"
"The nunnery, the nunnery, or death!" exclaimed Padre Damaso. "Maria, I am now an old man, I shall not be
able much longer to watch over you and your welfare. Choose something else, seek another love, some other
man, whoever he may be--anything but the nunnery."
"The nunnery or death!"