Part 25 (1/2)
”I have the pleasure to present to you our cousin, Don Alfonso Linares de Espadana,” said Dona Victorina, pointing toward the young man. ”The gentleman is a G.o.d-son of a relative of Father Damaso, and is private secretary to all the ministers.”
The young man bowed gracefully. Captain Tiago almost kissed his hand.
Dona Victorina was a woman of about forty-five summers, which, according to her arithmetical calculations, was equivalent to thirty-two springs. She had been pretty in her youth, but, raging over her own beauty, she had looked with disdain on many Filipino adorers, for her aspirations were for the other race. She had not cared to entrust her little white hand to anybody, but this not on account of lack of confidence on her part, for she had entrusted rings and jewels of inestimable value to various foreign adventurers.
Six months before the time of the happenings of which we are writing, she saw her beautiful dream realized, that dream of her whole life, on account of which she had disdained all manner of flattery and even the promises of love, which had been cooed into her ears, or sung in serenades by Captain Tiago. Late, it is true, she had realized her dream; but she knew well the proverb--”Better late than never,”
and consoled herself by repeating it again and again. ”There is no complete happiness on this earth,” was her other favorite proverb, but neither of these ever pa.s.sed her lips in the presence of other people.
Dona Victorina, after pa.s.sing her first, second, third and fourth youth in fis.h.i.+ng in the sea of men for the object of her dreams, had at last to content herself with what fortune cared to give her. The poor little woman, if she, instead of having pa.s.sed thirty-two springs, had not pa.s.sed more than thirty-one--the difference according to her arithmetic was very great--would have thrown back the prize which Destiny offered her, and preferred to wait for another more in conformity with her tastes. But, as the man proposed and necessity disposed it so, for she needed a husband very badly, she was compelled to content herself with a poor man, who had been driven by necessity to leave the Province of Estremadura in Spain. He, after wandering about the world for six or seven months, a modern Ulysses, found at last in the island of Luzon, hospitality, money, and a faded Calypso, his better half--but alas! a bitter half. He was known as the unhappy Tiburcio Espadana, and, although he was thirty-five years old and seemed even older, he was, however, younger than Dona Victorina, who was only thirty-two.
He had come to the Philippines in the capacity of clerk in the custom house, but after all the sea-sickness of the voyage and after fracturing a leg on the way, he had the bad luck to receive his discharge fifteen days after his arrival. He was left without a single cuarto.
Distrusting the sea, he did not wish to return to Spain without having made a fortune. So he decided to devote himself to something. Spanish pride did not permit him to do any manual labor. The poor man would have worked with pleasure to have earned an honorable living, but the prestige of the Spaniard did not permit this, nor did that prestige provide him with the necessities of life.
At first he lived at the expense of some of his countrymen, but, as Tiburcio had some self-respect, the bread was sour to him, and instead of getting fat he grew thin. As he had neither knowledge of any science, money nor recommendations, his countrymen, in order to get rid of him, advised him to go to some of the provinces and pa.s.s himself off as a Doctor of Medicine. At first, he did not like the idea, and opposed the plan, for although he had been a servant in the San Carlos Hospital, he had not learned anything about the science of healing, his duty having been to dust off the benches and light the fires, and, even in this work, he had served only a short time. But as necessity was pressing him hard, and as his friends pointed out the vanity of his scruples, he took their advice, went into the provinces and began to visit the sick, charging as much for his services as his conscience permitted. Later on he began to charge dearly and to put a high price on his visits. On this account, he was at once taken to be a great doctor and would probably have made his fortune, had not the attention of the Protective Medical Society of Manila, been called to his exorbitant charges and to his harmful compet.i.tion.
Private citizens and professors interceded in his behalf. ”Man!” said the zealous Doctor C. in speaking of him. ”Let him make his little money. Let him make his little six or seven thousand pesos. He will be able to return to his native land then and live in peace. What does it matter to you? Let him deceive the unwary natives. Then they may become smarter. He is a poor, unhappy fellow. Do not take the bread from his mouth. Be a good Spaniard!”
Doctor C. was a good Spaniard and he winked at the matter. But when the facts reached the ears of the people, they began to lose confidence in him, and little by little Don Tiburcio Espadana lost his clientage, and found himself almost obliged to beg for bread day by day. Then it was that he learned from a friend of his, who was also a friend of Dona Victorina about the position of that woman, and about her patriotism and good heart. Don Tiburcio saw in her a bit of blue sky and asked to be presented.
Dona Victorina and Don Tiburcio met. Tarde venientibus ossa, he would have exclaimed if he had known Latin. She was no longer pa.s.sable, she was past. Her abundant hair had been reduced to a wad about the size of an onion top, as the servants were wont to describe it. Her face was full of wrinkles and her teeth had begun to loosen. Her eyes had also suffered, and considerably, too. She had to squint frequently when she cared to look off at a certain distance. Her character was the only thing that had remained unchanged.
At the end of half an hour's conversation, they came to an understanding and accepted each other. She would have preferred a Spaniard less lame, less of a stammerer, less bald, one with more teeth, one of more rank and social standing, or categoria, as she called it. But this cla.s.s of Spaniards never came to ask her hand. She had heard, too, more than once that ”opportunity is bald,”
and she honestly believed that Don Tiburcio was that very opportunity, for on account of his dark days he had prematurely lost his hair. What woman is not prudent at thirty-two?
Don Tiburcio, for his part, felt a vague melancholy when he thought of his honeymoon. He smiled with resignation especially when he called the phantom of hunger to his aid. He had never had ambition or pretensions. His tastes were simple, his thoughts limited; but his heart, untouched till then, had dreamed of a very different divinity. In his youth when, tired by his day's labor, after a frugal meal, he lay down on a poor bed, he dreamed of a smiling, affectionate image. Afterward, when his sorrows and privations increased, the years pa.s.sed and his poetical dreams were not fulfilled, he thought merely of a good woman, a willing hand, a worker, who might afford him a small dowry, console him when tired from labor, and quarrel with him from time to time. Yes, he was thinking of the quarrels as a happiness! But when, obliged to wander from country to country, in search no longer of a fortune, but of some commodity to sustain his life for the remainder of his days; when, deluded by the accounts of his countrymen who came from beyond the seas, he embarked for the Philippines--then the vision of a housekeeper gave way to an image of an arrogant mestiza, a beautiful native with large black eyes, draped in silks and transparent garments, loaded with diamonds and gold, offering him her love and her carriages.
He arrived in the Philippines and believed that he was about to realize his dream, for the young women who, in silver-plated carriages, frequented the Luneta and the Malecon, Manila's popular and fas.h.i.+onable drives, looked at him with a certain curiosity. Later, when this curiosity on their part had ceased, the mestiza disappeared from his dreams, and with great labor he formed in his mind a picture of a widow, but an agreeable widow. So it was that when he saw only part of his dream taking on real form, he became sad. But he was somewhat of a philosopher and said to himself: ”That was a dream, but in the world one does not live in dreams.” Thus he settled all his doubts; she wasted a lot of rice powder on her cheeks. Pshaw! When they were once married he would make her stop that easily enough; she had many wrinkles in her face, but his coat had more bare spots and patches; she was old, pretentious, and imperious, but hunger was more imperious, and still more pretentious; and then, too, he had a sweet disposition, and, who could tell?--love modifies character; she spoke Spanish very badly, but he himself did not speak it well; at least, the head of the Customs department had so notified him in his discharge from his position, and besides, what did it matter? What if she was old and ridiculous? He was lame, toothless and bald. When some friend jested with him, he would respond: ”Give me bread and call me a fool.”
Don Tiburcio was what is vulgarly called a man who would not harm a fly. He was modest and incapable of conceiving an evil thought. He would have made a good missionary had he lived in olden times. His stay in the country had not given him that conviction of his own superiority, of his own worth, and of his high importance, which the larger part of his countrymen acquire in a few weeks in the Philippines. His heart had never been able to conceive hatred for anybody or anything. He had not yet been able to find a revolutionist. He only looked upon the people as unhappy beings whom it was fitting for him to deprive of a little of their wealth in order to prevent himself becoming even more unhappy than they. When they tried to make a case against him for pa.s.sing as a doctor without a proper license, he did not resent it, he did not complain. He saw the justice of the case, and only replied: ”But it is necessary to live!”
So they were married and went to Santa Ana to pa.s.s their honeymoon. But on the night of the wedding Dona Victorina had a bad attack of indigestion. Don Tiburcio gave thanks to G.o.d and showed solicitude and care. On the second night, however, he conducted himself like an honorable man, but on the day following, when he looked in the mirror at his bare gums, he smiled with melancholy: he had grown ten years older at least.
Dona Victorina, charmed with her husband, had a good set of front teeth made for him, and had the best tailors in the city dress and equip him. She ordered carriages and calesas, sent to Batangas and Albay provinces for the finest spans of horses, and even obliged him to make two entries in the coming horse races.
In the meantime, while she was transforming her husband, she did not forget her own person. She laid aside the silk saya or Filipino skirt and pina cloth bodice, for a dress of European style. She subst.i.tuted false curls in front for the simple hair dress of the Filipinos. Her dresses, which fitted her ”divinely bad,” disturbed the peace and tranquillity of the entire neighborhood.
The husband never went out of the house afoot--she did not want people to see that he was lame. He always took her for drives through the places most deserted, much to her pain, for she wanted to display her husband on the drives most frequented by the public. But out of respect for their honeymoon, she kept silent.
The last quarter of the honeymoon had just begun when he wanted to stop her from using rice powder on her cheeks, saying to her that it was false and not natural. Dona Victorina frowned and looked squarely at his front set of teeth. He at once became silent, and she learned his weakness.
She soon got the idea that she was to become a mother and made the following announcement to all her friends: ”Next month, we, I and de Espadana are going to the Peninsula. [17] I don't want to have my son born here and have them call him a revolutionist.”
She added a de to her husband's name. The de did not cost anything and gave categoria to the name. When she signed herself, she wrote Victorina de los Reyes de de Espadana. That de de Espadana was her mania. Neither the lithographer who printed her cards, nor her husband, could get the idea out of her head.
”If I do not put more than one de in the name people will think that I haven't it, fool!” said she to her husband.
She was talking continually about her preparations for the voyage to Spain. She learned by memory the names of the points where the steamers called, and it was a pleasure to hear her talk--”I am going to see the sismus of the Suez Ca.n.a.l. De Espadana thinks that it is the most beautiful, and De Espadana has seen the whole world.”--”I will probably never return to this land of savages.”--”I was not born to live here. Aden or Port Said would be more suitable for me. I have always thought so since I was a child.” Dona Victorina, in her geography, divided the world into two parts, the Philippines and Spain. In this she differed from the lower cla.s.s of people in Madrid for they divide it into Spain and America, or Spain and China, America and China being merely different names for the same country.