The Social Cancer, by José Rizal - Home

CHAPTER XI 63
now seems to have become so shamefaced that he cannot endure the sight of a piece of painted cloth and that
he fears the knots on a cord. But all this proves nothing more than that there is progress on this side also and
that the devil is backward, or at least a conservative, as are all who dwell in darkness. Otherwise, we must
attribute to him the weakness of a fifteen-year-old girl.
As we have said, Fray Salvi was very assiduous in the fulfilment of his duties, too assiduous, the alferez
thought. While he was preaching--he was very fond of preaching--the doors of the church were closed,
wherein he was like Nero, who allowed no one to leave the theater while he was singing. But the former did it
for the salvation and the latter for the corruption of souls. Fray Salvi rarely resorted to blows, but was
accustomed to punish every shortcoming of his subordinates with fines. In this respect he was very different
from Padre Damaso, who had been accustomed to settle everything with his fists or a cane, administering such
chastisement with the greatest good-will. For this, however, he should not be judged too harshly, as he was
firm in the belief that the Indian could be managed only by beating him, just as was affirmed by a friar who
knew enough to write books, and Padre Damaso never disputed anything that he saw in print, a credulity of
which many might have reason to complain. Although Fray Salvi made little use of violence, yet, as an old
wiseacre of the town said, what he lacked in quantity he made up in quality. But this should not be counted
against him, for the fasts and abstinences thinned his blood and unstrung his nerves and, as the people said,
the wind got into his head. Thus it came about that it was not possible to learn from the condition of the
sacristans' backs whether the curate was fasting or feasting.
The only rival of this spiritual power, with tendencies toward the temporal, was, as we have said, the alferez:
the only one, since the women told how the devil himself would flee from the curate, because, having one day
dared to tempt him, he was caught, tied to a bedpost, soundly whipped with a rope, and set at liberty only after
nine days. As a consequence, any one who after this would still be the enemy of such a man, deserved to fall
into worse repute than even the weak and unwary devils.
But the alferez deserved his fate. His wife was an old Filipina of abundant rouge and paint, known as Doña
Consolacion--although her husband and some others called her by quite another name. The alferez revenged
his conjugal misfortunes on his own person by getting so drunk that he made a tank of himself, or by ordering
his soldiers to drill in the sun while he remained in the shade, or, more frequently, by beating up his consort,
who, if she was not a lamb of God to take away one's sins, at least served to lay up for her spouse many
torments in Purgatory--if perchance he should get there, a matter of doubt to the devout women. As if for the
fun of it, these two used to beat each other up beautifully, giving free shows to the neighborhood with vocal
and instrumental accompaniments, four-handed, soft, loud, with pedal and all.
Whenever these scandals reached the ears of Padre Salvi, he would smile, cross himself, and recite a
paternoster. They called him a grafter, a hypocrite, a Carlist, and a miser: he merely smiled and recited more
prayers. The alferez had a little anecdote which he always related to the occasional Spaniards who visited him:
"Are you going over to the convento to visit the sanctimonious rascal there, the little curate? Yes! Well, if he
offers you chocolate which I doubt--but if he offers it remember this: if he calls to the servant and says, 'Juan,
make a cup of chocolate, eh!' then stay without fear; but if he calls out, 'Juan, make a cup of chocolate, ah!'
then take your hat and leave on a run."
"What!" the startled visitor would ask, "does he poison people? Carambas!"
"No, man, not at all!"
"What then?"
"'Chocolate, eh!' means thick and rich, while 'chocolate, ah!' means watered and thin."