Bab Bab 3 · Chapter III

The Dinner

Jele, jele, bago quiere. [27]

Fray Sibyla seemed to be very content as he moved along tranquilly with

the look of disdain no longer playing about his thin, refined lips. He

even condescended to speak to the lame doctor, De Espadaña, who

answered in monosyllables only, as he was somewhat of a stutterer. The

Franciscan was in a frightful humor, kicking at the chairs and even

elbowing a cadet out of his way. The lieutenant was grave while the

others talked vivaciously, praising the magnificence of the table. Doña

Victorina, however, was just turning up her nose in disdain when she

suddenly became as furious as a trampled serpent--the lieutenant had

stepped on the train of her gown.

"Haven't you any eyes?" she demanded.

"Yes, señora, two better than yours, but the fact is that I was

admiring your frizzes," retorted the rather ungallant soldier as he

moved away from her.

As if from instinct the two friars both started toward the head of the

table, perhaps from habit, and then, as might have been expected, the

same thing happened that occurs with the competitors for a university

position, who openly exalt the qualifications and superiority of their

opponents, later giving to understand that just the contrary was meant,

and who murmur and grumble when they do not receive the appointment.

"For you, Fray Damaso."

"For you, Fray Sibyla."

"An older friend of the family--confessor of the deceased lady--age,

dignity, and authority--"

"Not so very old, either! On the other hand, you are the curate of

the district," replied Fray Damaso sourly, without taking his hand

from the back of the chair.

"Since you command it, I obey," concluded Fray Sibyla, disposing

himself to take the seat.

"I don't command it!" protested the Franciscan. "I don't command it!"

Fray Sibyla was about to seat himself without paying any more attention

to these protests when his eyes happened to encounter those of the

lieutenant. According to clerical opinion in the Philippines, the

highest secular official is inferior to a friar-cook: _cedant arma

togae_, said Cicero in the Senate--_cedant arma cottae_, say the

friars in the Philippines. [28]

But Fray Sibyla was a well-bred person, so he said, "Lieutenant, here

we are in the world and not in the church. The seat of honor belongs

to you." To judge from the tone of his voice, however, even in the

world it really did belong to him, and the lieutenant, either to keep

out of trouble or to avoid sitting between two friars, curtly declined.

None of the claimants had given a thought to their host. Ibarra

noticed him watching the scene with a smile of satisfaction.

"How's this, Don Santiago, aren't you going to sit down with us?"

But all the seats were occupied; Lucullus was not to sup in the house

of Lucullus.

"Sit still, don't get up!" said Capitan Tiago, placing his hand on

the young man's shoulder. "This fiesta is for the special purpose

of giving thanks to the Virgin for your safe arrival. _Oy!_ Bring

on the _tinola!_ I ordered _tinola_ as you doubtless have not tasted

any for so long a time."

A large steaming tureen was brought in. The Dominican, after muttering

the benedicite, to which scarcely any one knew how to respond, began

to serve the contents. But whether from carelessness or other cause,

Padre Damaso received a plate in which a bare neck and a tough wing

of chicken floated about in a large quantity of soup amid lumps of

squash, while the others were eating legs and breasts, especially

Ibarra, to whose lot fell the second joints. Observing all this, the

Franciscan mashed up some pieces of squash, barely tasted the soup,

dropped his spoon noisily, and roughly pushed his plate away. The

Dominican was very busy talking to the rubicund youth.

"How long have you been away from the country?" Laruja asked Ibarra.

"Almost seven years."

"Then you have probably forgotten all about it."

"Quite the contrary. Even if my country does seem to have forgotten

me, I have always thought about it."

"How do you mean that it has forgotten you?" inquired the rubicund

youth.

"I mean that it has been a year since I have received any news from

here, so that I find myself a stranger who does not yet know how and

when his father died."

This statement drew a sudden exclamation from the lieutenant.

"And where were you that you didn't telegraph?" asked Doña

Victorina. "When we were married we telegraphed to the Peñinsula." [29]

"Señora, for the past two years I have been in the northern part of

Europe, in Germany and Russian Poland."

Doctor De Espadaña, who until now had not ventured upon any

conversation, thought this a good opportunity to say something. "I--I

knew in S-spain a P-pole from W-warsaw, c-called S-stadtnitzki, if

I r-remember c-correctly. P-perhaps you s-saw him?" he asked timidly

and almost blushingly.

"It's very likely," answered Ibarra in a friendly manner, "but just

at this moment I don't recall him."

"B-but you c-couldn't have c-confused him with any one else," went

on the Doctor, taking courage. "He was r-ruddy as gold and t-talked

Spanish very b-badly."

"Those are good clues, but unfortunately while there I talked Spanish

only in a few consulates."

"How then did you get along?" asked the wondering Doña Victorina.

"The language of the country served my needs, madam."

"Do you also speak English?" inquired the Dominican, who had been in

Hongkong, and who was a master of pidgin-English, that adulteration

of Shakespeare's tongue used by the sons of the Celestial Empire.

"I stayed in England a year among people who talked nothing but

English."

"Which country of Europe pleased you the most?" asked the rubicund

youth.

"After Spain, my second fatherland, any country of free Europe."

"And you who seem to have traveled so much, tell us what do you

consider the most notable thing that you have seen?" inquired Laruja.

Ibarra appeared to reflect. "Notable--in what way?"

"For example, in regard to the life of the people--the social,

political, religious life--in general, in its essential features--as

a whole."

Ibarra paused thoughtfully before replying. "Frankly, I like everything

in those people, setting aside the national pride of each one. But

before visiting a country, I tried to familiarize myself with its

history, its Exodus, if I may so speak, and afterwards I found

everything quite natural. I have observed that the prosperity or

misery of each people is in direct proportion to its liberties or its

prejudices and, accordingly, to the sacrifices or the selfishness of

its forefathers."

"And haven't you observed anything more than that?" broke in the

Franciscan with a sneer. Since the beginning of the dinner he had not

uttered a single word, his whole attention having been taking up,

no doubt, with the food. "It wasn't worth while to squander your

fortune to learn so trifling a thing. Any schoolboy knows that."

Ibarra was placed in an embarrassing position, and the rest looked

from one to the other as if fearing a disagreeable scene. He was

about to say, "The dinner is nearly over and his Reverence is now

satiated," but restrained himself and merely remarked to the others,

"Gentlemen, don't be surprised at the familiarity with which our former

curate treats me. He treated me so when I was a child, and the years

seem to make no difference in his Reverence. I appreciate it, too,

because it recalls the days when his Reverence visited our home and

honored my father's table."

The Dominican glanced furtively at the Franciscan, who was trembling

visibly. Ibarra continued as he rose from the table: "You will now

permit me to retire, since, as I have just arrived and must go away

tomorrow morning, there remain some important business matters for me

to attend to. The principal part of the dinner is over and I drink

but little wine and seldom touch cordials. Gentlemen, all for Spain

and the Philippines!" Saying this, he drained his glass, which he had

not before touched. The old lieutenant silently followed his example.

"Don't go!" whispered Capitan Tiago. "Maria Clara will be here. Isabel

has gone to get her. The new curate of your town, who is a saint,

is also coming."

"I'll call tomorrow before starting. I've a very important visit to

make now." With this he went away.

Meanwhile the Franciscan had recovered himself. "Do you see?" he

said to the rubicund youth, at the same time flourishing his dessert

spoon. "That comes from pride. They can't stand to have the curate

correct them. They even think that they are respectable persons. It's

the evil result of sending young men to Europe. The government ought

to prohibit it."

"And how about the lieutenant?" Doña Victorina chimed in upon the

Franciscan, "he didn't get the frown off his face the whole evening. He

did well to leave us so old and still only a lieutenant!" The lady

could not forget the allusion to her frizzes and the trampled ruffles

of her gown.

That night the rubicund youth wrote down, among other things, the

following title for a chapter in his _Colonial Studies_: "Concerning

the manner in which the neck and wing of a chicken in a friar's plate

of soup may disturb the merriment of a feast." Among his notes there

appeared these observations: "In the Philippines the most unnecessary

person at a dinner is he who gives it, for they are quite capable of

beginning by throwing the host into the street and then everything

will go on smoothly. Under present conditions it would perhaps be a

good thing not to allow the Filipinos to leave the country, and even

not to teach them to read."