The Reign of Greed by José Rizal - Part 2/2 - Audiobooks

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Speaker 1 (00:00):
But you have come and decided me. This night, the
most dangerous tyrants will be blown to pieces, the irresponsible
rulers that hide themselves behind God, and the state whose
abuses remain unpunished because no one can bring them to justice.
This night, the Philippines will hear the explosion that will
convert into rubbish, the formless monument whose decay I have fostered.

(00:21):
Basilio was so terrified that his lips worked without producing
any sound, his tongue was paralyzed, his throat parched. For
the first time, he was looking at the powerful liquid
which he had heard talked of as a thing distilled
three hundred fifteen in gloom by gloomy men in open
war against society. Now he had it before him, transparent

(00:42):
and slightly yellowish, poured with great caution into the artistic pomegranate.
Symon looked to him like the gene of the Arabian
knights that sprang from the sea. He took on gigantic proportions,
his head touched the sky. He made the house tremble,
and shook the whole city. With a shrug of his shoulders,
the pomegranate assumed the form of a colossal sphere. The

(01:03):
fissures became hellish grins. Whence escaped names and glowing cinders.
For the first time in his life, Basilio was overcome
with fright and completely lost his composure. Simon meanwhile, screwed
on solidly a curious and complicated mechanism, put in place
a glass chimney, then the bomb, and crown the hole
with an elegant shade. Then he moved away some distance

(01:26):
to contemplate the effect, inclining his head now to one side,
now to the other, thus better to appreciate its magnificent appearance.
Noticing that Basilio was watching him with questioning and suspicious eyes,
he said, to night there will be a fiesta, and
this lamp will be placed in a little dining kiosk
that I have had constructed for the purpose. The lamp

(01:47):
will give a brilliant light, bright enough to suffice for
the illumination of the whole place by itself. But at
the end of twenty minutes the light will fade, and
then when some one tries to turn up the wick,
a cap of fulminate of mercury will explode. The pomag
it will blow up, and with it the dining room,
in the roof and floor of which I have concealed
sacks of powder, so that no one shall escape. There

(02:09):
was a moment's silence while Symons stared at his mechanism,
and Basilio scarcely breathed. So my assistance is not needed,
observed the young man. No, you have another mission to fulfill,
replied Symon thoughtfully. At nine, the mechanism will have exploded,
and the report will have been heard in the country,
round in the mountains, in the caves. The uprising that

(02:32):
I had arranged with the artillery man was a failure
from Lac three hundred and sixteen of plan and timeliness.
But this time it won't be so. Upon hearing the explosion,
the wretched and the oppressed, those who wander about, pursued
by force, will sally forth arm to join cape, saying
tails in Santa Mesa. Whence they will fall upon the city. Two.
While the soldiers, whom I have made to believe that

(02:54):
the General is shamming an insurrection in order to remain,
will issue from their barracks, ready to fire upon whomsoever
I may designate. Meanwhile, the cowed populace, thinking that the
hour of massacre has come, will rush out, prepared to
kill or be killed. And as they have neither arms
nor organization, you with some others will put yourself at
their head and direct them to the warehouses of Kiroga,

(03:17):
where I keep my rifles. Kate Sang Tales and I
will join one another in the city and take possession
of it, while you in the suburbs will seize the
bridges and throw up barricades, and then be ready to
come to our aid, to butcher not only those opposing
the revolution, but also every man who refuses to take
up arms and join us. All stammered Basilio in a

(03:38):
choking voice. All repeated Simon in a sinister tone. All Indians, Mestizos,
Chinese Spaniards, all who are found to be without courage,
without energy. The race must be renewed. Cowardly fathers will
only breed slavish sons, and it wouldn't be worth while

(03:59):
to destroy and then try to rebuild with rotten materials.
What do you shudder? Do you tremble? Do you fear
to scatter death? What is death? What does a hecatome
of twenty thousand wretches signify? Twenty thousand miseries less and
millions of wretches saved from birth. The most timid ruler

(04:19):
does not three hundred seventeen hesitate to dictate a law
that produces misery and lingering death for thousands and thousands
of prosperous and industrious subjects, happy perchance merely to satisfy
a caprice, a whim his pride. And yet you shudder,
because in one night are to be ended forever the
mental tortures of many hellaths, because a viciated and paralytic

(04:41):
people has to die to give place to another, young, active,
full of energy. What is death? Nothingness or a dream?
Can its specters be compared to the reality of the
agonies of a whole miserable generation. The needful thing is
to destroy the evil, to kill the dragon and the
new people in the blood, in order to make it

(05:02):
strong and invulnerable. What else is the inexorable law of nature?
The law of strife, in which the weak has to
succumb so that the vitiated species be not perpetuated, and
creation thus travel backwards away. Then, with effeminate scruples, fulfill
the eternal laws, foster them, and then the earth will
be so much the more feak and the more it

(05:23):
is fertilized with blood, and the thrones the more solid,
the more they rest upon crimes and corpses. Let there
be no hesitation, no doubtings. What is the pain of death?
A momentary sensation, perhaps confused, perhaps agreeable, like the transition
from waking to sleep. What is it that is being destroyed? Evil?

(05:45):
Suffering feeble weeds in order to set in their place
luxuriant plants. Do you call that destruction? I should call
it creating, producing, nourishing, vivifying. Such bloody sophisms utters with
conviction and coolness, overwhelmed the youth, weakened as he was
by more than three months in prison, and blinded by

(06:06):
his passion for revenge, so he was not in a
mood to analyze the moral basis of the matter. Instead
of replying that the worst and cowardliest of men is
always something more than a plant, because he has a
soul and an intelligence, which, however vitiated and brutalized they
may be, can be redeemed, instead of replying that man
has no right to dispose of one life for the

(06:27):
benefit of another, that the right to life is inherent
in every individual like the right to liberty and to
three hundred eighteen light. Instead of replying that if it
is an abuse on the part of governments to punish
and a culprit to faults and crimes to which they
have driven him by their own negligence or stupidity, how
much more so would it be in a man, however

(06:47):
great and however unfortunate he might be, to punish in
a wretched people the faults of its governments and its ancestors.
Instead of declaring that God alone can use such methods,
that God can destroy because he can created, who holds
in his hands recompense eternity and the future to justify
his acts, and man never instead of these reflections, Basilio

(07:09):
merely interposed a cant reflection, What will the world say
at the sight of such butchery? The world will applaud
as usual, conceding the right of the strongest, the most violent,
replied Simon with his cruel smile. Europe applauded when the
Western nations sacrificed millions of Indians in America, and not
by any means to found nations much more moral or

(07:32):
more pacific. There is the North, with its egotistic liberty,
its lynch law, its political frauds. The South with its
turbulent republics, its barbarous revolutions, civil wars, pronunciamientos. As in
its mother Spain, Europe applauded when the powerful Portugal despoiled
the Moluccas. It applauds while England is destroying the primitive

(07:53):
races in the Pacific to make room for its emigrants.
Europe will applaud as the end of a drama. The
close of a tragedy is applauded for the vulgar do
not fix their attention on principles. They look only at results.
Commit the crime well, and you will be admired and
have more partisans than if you had carried out virtuous
actions with modesty and timidity. Exactly, rejoin the youth. What

(08:17):
does it matter to me, after all, whether they praise
or censure? When this world takes no care of the oppressed,
of the poor, and of weak womankind. What obligations have
I to recognize towards society when it has recognized none
toward me. That's what I like to hear, declared the
Tempter triumphantly three hundred nineteen. He took a revolver from

(08:38):
a case and gave it to Basilio, saying, at ten
o'clock wait for me in front of the church of
Saint Sebastian to receive my final instructions. AH. At nine,
you must be far very far from Caye almloac. Basilio
examined the weapon, loaded it, and placed it in the
inside pocket of his coat, then took his leave with
a curt I'll see you later. Three hundred and twenty

(09:02):
one Ultima raison de reyees the last argument of kings
force expression attributed to Calderon de la Barca, the great
Spanish dramatist, tir too curiously enough and by what must
have been more than a mere coincidence, This route through
Santa Mesa from San Juan del Monte was the one
taken by an armed party in their attempt to enter

(09:24):
the city at the outbreak of the Catapunan rebellion on
the morning of August thirtieth, eighteen ninety six. Foreman's The
Philippine Islands, chapter twenty six. It was also on the
bridge connecting these two places that the first shot in
the insurrection against American sovereignty was fired on the night
of February fourth, eighteen ninety nine. Do Tiar Contents, Chapter

(09:47):
thirty four, The Wedding. Once in the street, Basilio began
to consider how he might spend the time until the
fatal hour arrived, for it was then not later than
seven o'clock. It was the vacation period, and all the
students were back in their town, Isigoni being the only
one who had not cared to leave, But he had
disappeared that morning and no one knew his whereabouts. So
Basilio had been informed when, after leaving the prison, he

(10:09):
had gone to visit his friend and ask him for lodging.
The young man did not know where to go, for
he had no money, nothing but the revolver. The memory
of the lamp filled his imagination the great catastrophe that
would occur within two hours. Pondering over this, he seemed
to see the men who passed before his eyes walking
without heads, and he felt a thrill of ferocious joy

(10:32):
in telling himself that hungry and destitute he that night
was going to be dreaded, That from a poor student
and servant, perhaps the sun would see him transformed into
some one terrible and sinister. Standing upon pyramids of corpses,
dictating laws to all those who were passing before his gaze.
Now in magnificent carriages, he laughed like one condemned to death,

(10:53):
and patted the butt of the revolver. The boxes of
cartridges were also in his pockets. Question suddenly occurred to him,
where would the drama begin? In his bewilderment, he had
not thought of asking Simon, but the latter had warned
him to keep away from Caye al Looac. Then came
a suspicion that afternoon, upon leaving the prison, he had

(11:15):
proceeded to the former house of Capitan Tiago to get
his few personal effects, and had found it transformed prepared
for a fiesta three hundred twenty one, the wedding of
Guenito Pelias. Simon had spoken of a fiesta. At this moment,
he noticed passing in front of him a long line
of carriages filled with ladies and gentlemen, conversing in a

(11:35):
lively manner, and he even thought he could make out
big bouquets of flowers, but he gave the detail no thought.
The carriages were going toward Caye Rosario, and in meeting
those that came down off the bridge of Spain, had
to move along slowly and stop frequently. In one he
saw Gunnito Peliz at the side of a woman dressed
in white with a transparent veil, in whom he recognized

(11:56):
Polita Gomez Paulita. He ejaculated in surprise, realizing that it
was indeed she in a bridal gown along with Juanito Pelliz,
as though they were just coming from the church. Poor Isigani,
he murmured, what can have become of him? He thought
for a while about his friend, a great and generous soul,

(12:18):
and mentally asked himself if it would not be well
to tell him about the plan, then answered himself that
Isigani would never take part in such a butchery. They
had not treated Isigani as they had him. Then he
thought that had there been no imprisonment, he would have
been betrothed or a husband. At this time, a licentiate
in medicine, living and working in some corner of his province.

(12:40):
The ghost of Julie, crushed in her fall, crossed his mind,
and dark flames of hatred lighted his eyes. Again. He
caressed the butt of the revolver, regretting that the terrible
hour had not yet come. Just then he saw Symon
come out of the door of his house, carrying in
his hands the case containing the lamp, carefully wrapped up,
and enter a care carriage, which then followed those bearing

(13:01):
the bridal party in order not to lose track of Simon.
Basilio took a good look at the cacero and with astonishment,
recognized in him the wretch who had driven him to
San Diego Sinong, the fellow maltreated by the civil guard,
the same who had come to the prison to tell
him about the occurrences in Tianni three hundred and twenty two.
Conjecturing that Caye Onolag was to be the scene of action.

(13:24):
Thither the youth directed his steps, hurrying forward and getting
ahead of the carriages, which were in fact all moving
toward the former house of Capitan Tiago. There they were
assembling in search of a ball, but actually to dance
in the air. Basilio smiled when he noticed the pairs
of civil guards who formed the escort, and from their
number he could guess the importance of the fiesta and

(13:46):
the guests. The house overflowed with people and poured floods
of light from its windows. The entrance was carpeted and
strewn with flowers. Upstairs, there, perhaps in his former solitary room,
an orchestra was playing Lifers, which did not completely drown
the confused tumult of talk and laughter. Don Timoteo Peliz

(14:06):
was reaching the pinnacle of fortune, and the reality surpassed
his dreams. He was at last marrying his son to
the rich Gomez Heires, and thanks to the money Simon
had lent him, he had royally furnished that big house,
purchased for half its value, and was giving in it
a splendid fiesta with the foremost divinities of the Manila Olympus,

(14:27):
for his guests to guild him with the light of
their prestige. Since that morning, there had been recurring to him,
with the persistence of a popular song, some vague phrases
that he had read in the Communion service. Now has
the fortunate hour come? Now draws neither happy moment. Soon
there will be fulfilled in you the admirable words of Simon.

(14:48):
I live, and yet not I alone, but the Captain
General lyveth in me, the Captain General, the patron of
his son. True, he had not attended the ceremony where
Don Couste the Odio had represented him, but he would
come to dine. He would bring a wedding gift, a
lamp which not even Aladdin's. Between you and me, Simon
was presenting the lamp, Timoteo, What more could you desire?

(15:13):
The transformation that Capitan Tiago's house had undergone was considerable.
It had been richly repapered, while the smoke and the
smell of opium had been completely three hundred and twenty
three eradicated. The immense sola, widened still more by the
colossal mirrors that infinitely multiplied the lights of the chandeliers.
Was carpeted throughout, for the salons of Europe had carpets,

(15:35):
and even though the floor was of wide boards brilliantly
polished a carpet, it must have two, since nothing should
be lacking. The rich furniture of Capitan Tiago had disappeared,
and in its place was to be seen another kind,
in the style of Louis the fifteenth heavy curtains of
red velvet trimmed with gold, with the initials of the
bridal couple worked on them, and upheld by garlands of

(15:57):
artificial orange blossoms hung as porch and swept the floor
with their wide fringes. Likewise of gold in the corners
appeared enormous Japanese vases, alternating with those of several of
a clear dark blue placed upon square pedestals of carved wood.
The only decorations not in good taste were the screaming
chromos which don To Moteo had substituted for the old

(16:19):
drawings and pictures of saints of Capy Tantiago. Simon had
been unable to dissuade him, for the merchant did not
want oil paintings. Some one might ascribe them to Filipino artists.
He a patron of Filipino artists. Never on that point
depended his peace of mind and perhaps his life, and
he knew how to get along in the Philippines. It

(16:42):
is true that he had heard foreign painters mentioned Lafayel
Mario Velasquez, but he did not know their addresses, and
then they might prove to be somewhat seditious. With the chromos,
he ran no risk, as the Filipinos did not make them.
They came cheaper. The effect was the same, if not better.
The colors brighter and the execution very fine. Don't say

(17:04):
that Don Timoteo did not know how to comport himself.
In the Philippines, the large hallway was decorated with flowers,
having been converted into a dining room, with a long
table for thirty persons in the center, and around the sides,
pushed against the walls, other smaller ones for two or
three persons each. Bouquets of flowers, pyramids of fruits, among ribbons,

(17:25):
and lights covered their centers. The groom's place was designated
three hundred and twenty four by a bunch of roses,
and the brides by another of orange blossoms and tubrosas.
In the presence of so much finery and flowers, one
could imagine that nymphs in gauzy garments and cupids with
iridescent wings were going to serve nectar and ambrosia to
aerial guests, to the sound of lyres and Eolian harps.

(17:49):
But the table for the greater gods was not there,
being placed yonder in the middle of the wide azadi,
within a magnificent kiosk constructed especially for the occasion, a
lattice of gilded with over which clambered fragrant vines screened
the interior from the eyes of the vulgar without impeding
the free circulation of air. To preserve the coolness necessary
at that season, a raised platform lifted the table above

(18:12):
the level of the others, at which the ordinary mortals
were going to dine, and an arch decorated by the
best artists would protect the august heads from the jealous
gaze of the stars. On this table were laid only
seven plates. The dishes were of solid silver, the cloth
and napkins of the finest linen, the wines the most
costly and exquisite. Dawn to Moteo had sought the most

(18:34):
rare and expensive in everything, nor would he have hesitated
at crime had he been assured that the Captain General
liked to eat human flesh. Three hundred and twenty five Contents,
Chapter thirty five. The Fiesta danzer Sobray and Vulcan. By
seven in the evening, the guests had begun to arrive,
first the lesser divinities, petty government officials, clerks and merchants,

(18:57):
with the most ceremonious greetings, and the grave airs at
the start, as if they were parvenus for so much
light so many decorations and so much glassware had some effect. Afterwards,
they began to be more at ease, shaking their fists playfully,
with pats on the shoulders and even familiar slaps on
the back. Some, it is true, adopted a rather disdainful

(19:21):
air to let it be seen that they were accustomed
to better things. Of course they were. There was one
goddess who yawned, for she found everything vulgar, and even
remarked that she was ravenously hungry, while another quarreled with
her God, threatening to box his ears down to Moteo,
bowed here, and bowed there, scattered his best smiles, tightened

(19:42):
his belt, stepped backward, turned half way round, then completely around,
and so on again and again, until one goddess could
not refrain from remarking to her neighbor, under cover of
her fan, my dear, how important the old man is.
Doesn't he look like a jumping jack. Late came the
bridal couple, escorted by Dona, Victorina and the rest of

(20:03):
the party. Congratulations, hand shakings, patronizing pats for the groom
for the bride, insistent stairs, and anatomical observations on the
part of the men, with analyzes of her gown, her toilette,
speculations as to her health and strength on the part
of the women three hundred and twenty six. Cupid and Psyche,

(20:23):
appearing on Olympus, thought Ben's abe, making a mental note
of the comparison, to spring it at some better opportunity.
The groom had, in fact the mischievous features of the
god of love, and with a little good will, his hump,
which the severity of his frock coat did not altogether conceal,
could be taken for a quiver. Don Timoteo began to
feel his belts squeezing him, The corns on his feet,

(20:45):
began to ache, his neck became tired. But still the
general had not come. The greater gods among them, Padre
Irene and Padre Salvie, had already arrived, it was true,
but the chief thunderer was still lacking. The poor man
became uneasy, nervous, His heart beat violently, but still he
had to bow and smile. He sat down, he arose,

(21:08):
failed to hear what was said to him, did not
say what he meant. In the meantime, an amateur god
made remarks to him about his cromos criticizing them with
the statement that they spoiled the walls. Spoil the walls,
repeated Don Timoteo, with a smile and a desire to
choke him. But they were made in Europe and are

(21:29):
the most costly I could get in Manila. Spoil the walls.
Don Timoteo swore to himself that on the very next
day he would present for payment all the chits that
the critic had signed in his store. Whistles resounded, the
galloping of horses was heard. At last the general the
captain General, pale with emotion, Don Timoteo, dissembling the pain

(21:53):
of his corns, and accompanied by his son and some
of the greater gods, descended to receive the mighty jove.
The pain at his belt vanished before the doubts that
now assailed him. Should he frame a smile or affect gravity,
Should he extend his hand or wait for the general
to offer his corumbas? Why had nothing of this occurred
to him before, so that he might have consulted his

(22:15):
good friend Simon to conceal his agitation. He whispered to
his son, in a low, shaky voice, have you a
speech prepared? Three hundred and twenty seven speeches are no
longer in vogue, Papa, especially on such an occasion as this.
Jupiter arrived in the company of Juno, who was converted
into a tower of artificial lights. With diamonds in her hair,

(22:38):
diamonds around her neck, on her arms, on her shoulders.
She was literally covered with diamonds. She was arrayed in
a magnificent silk gown, having a long train decorated with
embossed flowers. His Excellency literally took possession of the house,
as don to Moteo stammeringly begged him to due point
when the orchestra played the Royal March, while the divine

(22:58):
couple majestically assented the carpeted stairway. Nor was his Excellency's
gravity altogether affected. Perhaps for the first time since his
arrival in the islands, he felt sad. A strain of
melancholy tinged his thoughts. This was the last triumph of
his three years of government, and within two days he
would descend forever from such an exalted height. What was

(23:21):
he leaving behind? His Excellency did not care to turn
his head backwards, but preferred to look ahead to gaze
into the future. Although he was carrying away a fortune,
large sums to his credit were awaiting him in European banks,
and he had residences. Yet he had injured many, he
had made enemies at the court. The High official was
waiting for him there. Other generals had enriched themselves as

(23:44):
rapidly as he, and now they were ruined. Why not
stay longer, as Symon had advised him to do, no
good taste before everything else. The bows, moreover, were not
now so profound as before, he noticed, insisted, and stars
and even looks of dislike. But still he replied affably,
and even attempted to smile. It's plain that the sun

(24:07):
is setting, observed Padre Irene in benz Abe's ear. Many
now stare him in the face, the devil with the curate.
That was just what he was going to remark. Three
hundred and twenty eight, My dear murmured into the ear
of a neighbor, the lady who had referred to Don
Timoteo as a jumping jack. Did you ever see such
a skirt ough the curtains from the palace, You don't say,

(24:32):
but it's true. They're carrying everything away. You'll see how
they make raps out of the carpets. That only goes
to show that she has talent and taste, observed her husband,
reproving her with a look. Women should be economical. This
poor god was still suffering from the dressmaker's bill. My dear,

(24:54):
give me curtains at twelve pesos a yard, and you'll
see if I put on these rags, retorted the goddess
in peaque heavens, you can talk when you have done
something fine like that, to give you the right. Meanwhile,
Vassilio stood before the house, lost in the throng of
curious spectators, counting those who alighted from their carriages. When

(25:15):
he looked upon so many persons happy and confident, when
he saw the bride and groom followed by their train
of fresh and innocent little girls, and reflected that they
were going to meet their a horrible death, he was
sorry and felt his hatred waning within him. He wanted
to save so many innocents. He thought of notifying the police,
but a carriage drove up to set down Padre Salvie

(25:36):
and Padre Irene, both beaming with content, and like a
passing cloud, his good intentions vanished. What does it matter
to me, he asked himself. Let the righteous suffer with
the sinners. Then he added, to silence his scruples, I'm
not an informer. I mustn't abuse the confidence he has
placed in me. I owe him him more than I

(25:58):
do them. He dug my mother's they killed her. What
have I to do with them? I did everything possible
to be good and useful. I tried to forgive and forget.
I suffered every imposition, and only asked that they leave
me in peace. I got in no one's way. What
have they done to me? Let their mangled limbs fly

(26:19):
through the air. We've suffered enough. Three hundred and twenty nine.
Then he saw Simon alight with the terrible lamp in
his hands, saw him cross the entrance with bowed head,
as though deep in thought. Basilio felt his heart beat fainter,
his feet and hands turned cold, while the black silhouette
of the jeweler assumed fantastic shapes enveloped in flames. There

(26:41):
at the foot of the stairway, Simon checked his steps
as if in doubt, and Basilio held his breath, but
the hesitation was transient. Simon raised his head resolutely ascended
the stairway and disappeared. It then seemed to the student
that the house was going to blow up at any moment,
and that wall's lamps, guests, roof windows, orchestra would be

(27:04):
hurtling through the air like a handful of coals in
the midst of an infernal explosion. He gazed about him
and fancied that he saw corpses in place of idle spectators.
He saw them torn to shreds. It seemed to him
that the air was filled with flames. But his calmer
self triumphed over this transient hallucination, which was due somewhat
to his hunger. Until he comes out, there's no danger,

(27:26):
he said to himself. The Captain General hasn't arrived yet.
He tried to appear calm and control the convulsive trembling
in his limbs, endeavoring to divert his thoughts to other things.
Something within was ridiculing him, saying, if you tremble now
before the supreme moment, how will you conduct yourself when
you see blood flowing, houses burning, and bullets whistling. His

(27:50):
excellency arrived, but the young man paid no attention to him.
He was watching the face of Simon, who was among
those that descended to receive him. And he read in
that implacable countenance the sentence of death for all those men,
so that fresh terror seized upon him. He felt cold.
He leaned against the wall, and with his eyes fixed
on the windows and his ears cocked, tried to guess

(28:13):
what might be happening in the sala. He saw the
crowd surround Symon to look at the lamp. He heard
congratulations and exclamations of admiration. The words dining room novelty
were repeated many times. He saw three hundred thirty the
general smile and conjecture that the novelty was to be
exhibited that very night by the jeweler's arrangement on the

(28:35):
table whereat his Excellency was to dine. Symon disappeared, followed
by a crowd of admirers. At that supreme moment, his
good angel triumphed. He forgot his hatreds, He forgot Julie.
He wanted to save the innocent, Come what might, He
would cross the street and try to enter, But Basilio
had forgotten that he was miserably dressed. The porter stopped

(28:59):
him in, accosting him roughly, and finally, upon his insisting,
threatened to call the police. Just then Simon came down,
slightly pale, and the porter turned from Basilio to salute
the jeweler as though he had been a saint. Passing,
Basilio realized from the expression of Symons's face that he
was leaving the faded house forever. That the lamp was

(29:19):
lighted Alia jack to est Seized by the instinct of
self preservation, he thought then of saving himself. It might
occur to any of the guests, through curiosity, to tamper
with the wick, and then would come the explosion to
overwhelm them all. Still, he heard Simons say to the
Caccero the escalta. Hurry terrified, dreading that he might at

(29:42):
any moment hear the awful explosion. Basilio hurried as fast
as his legs would carry him to get away from
the accursed spot, but his legs seemed to lack the
necessary agility. His feet slipped on the sidewalk as though
they were moving, but not advancing. The people he met
blocked the way, and before he had gone twenty sti
he thought that at least five minutes had elapsed some

(30:03):
distance away, he stumbled against a young man who was
standing with his head thrown back, gazing fixedly at the
house and in him he recognized Isigani. What are you
doing here? He demanded, Come away. Isigani stared at him, vaguely,
smiled sadly, and again turned his gaze toward the open balconies,
a cross which was revealed the ethereal silhouette of the

(30:26):
bride clinging to the groom's arm as they moved slowly
out of sight. Three hundred and thirty one. Come, Isigani,
Let's get away from that house. Come, Basilio urged in
a hoarse voice, catching his friend by the arm, Isigani
gently shook himself free and continued to stare with the
same sad smile upon his lips. For God's sake, let's

(30:49):
get away from here. Why should I go away tomorrow?
It will not be she. There was so much sorrow
in those words that Bassilio for a moment forgot his
own ties. Do you want to die? He demanded. Isigani
shrugged his shoulders and continued to gaze toward the house.
Basilio again tried to drag him away. Isigani Isigani. Listen

(31:14):
to me. Let's not waste any time that house is mined.
It's going to blow up at any moment by the
least imprudent act, the least curiosity Isigani, all will perish
in its ruins. In its ruins, echoed Isigani, as if
trying to understand, but without removing his gaze from the window. Yes,

(31:36):
in its ruins, Yes, Isigani. For God's sake. Come, I'll
explain afterwards. Come, one who has been more unfortunate than
either you or I has doomed them all. Do you
see that white, clear light, like an electric lamp shining
from the azadi? It's the light of death. A lamp

(31:59):
charged with dinah in a mine dining room will burst
and not a rat will escape alive. Come no, answered Isigani,
shaking his head sadly. I want to stay here. I
want to see her for the last time. Tomorrow, you see,
she will be something different. Let fate have its way,

(32:20):
Basilio then exclaimed, hurrying away. Isigani watched his friend rush
away with a precipitation that indicated real terror, but continued
to stare toward the charmed window like the cavalier of Toggenberg,
waiting for his sweetheart to appear. As Shiller tells now,
the sala was deserted, all having repaired to the dining
rooms three hundred thirty two. And it occurred to Isigani

(32:43):
that Basilio's fears may have been well founded. He recalled
the terrified countenance of him, who was always so calm
and composed, and it set him to thinking. Suddenly an
idea appeared clear in his imagination. The house was going
to blow up, and Polito was there. Polito was going
to die of frightful death. In the presence of this idea,

(33:04):
everything was forgotten, jealousy, suffering mental torture, and the generous
youth thought only of his love, without reflecting, without hesitation,
he ran toward the house, and thanks to his stylish
clothes and determined mean, easily secured admittance. While these short
scenes were occurring in the street, in the dining kiosk

(33:24):
of the Greater Gods, there was passed from hand to
hand a piece of parchment on which were written in
read ink these faithful words mean tekel fares to one
CHRYSOSTOMOI barra one Crysostomoibara, who is he asked, his excellency,
handing the paper to his neighbor. A joke in very
bad taste, exclaimed Don Custodio, to sign the name of

(33:46):
a filibuster dead more than ten years A filibuster. It's
a seditious joke. There being ladies present, Padre Irene looked
around for the joker and saw Padre Salvie, who was
seated at the right of the Countess, turn as white
as his napkin. While he stared at the mysterious words
with bulging eyes, the scene of the sphinx recurred to him.

(34:09):
What's the matter, Padre Salvie, he asked, do you recognize
your friend's signature? Padre Salvie did not reply. He made
an effort to speak three hundred thirty three, and, without
being conscious of what he was doing, wiped his forehead
with his napkin. What has happened to your reverence? It
is his very handwriting, was the whispered reply, in a

(34:31):
scarcely perceptible voice. It's the very handwriting of Ibarra. Leaning
against the back of his chair, he let his arms fall,
as though all strength had deserted him. Uneasiness became converted
into fright. They all stared at one another without uttering
a single word. His excellency started to rise, but, apprehending

(34:52):
that such a move would be ascribed to fear, controlled
himself and looked about him. There were no soldiers present,
even the waiters were unknown to him. Let's go on eating, gentlemen,
he exclaimed, and pay no attention to the joke. But
his voice, instead of reassuring, increased the general uneasiness, for

(35:12):
it trembled. I don't suppose that that mean tekel ferirs,
means that were to be assassinated tonight, speculated Don Custodio.
All remained motionless, but when he added, yet they might
poison us, they leaped up from their chairs. The light, meanwhile,
had begun slowly to fade. The lamp is going out,

(35:34):
observed the general uneasily. Will you turn up the wick,
padre Irene. But at that instant, with the swiftness of
a flash of lightning, a figure rushed in, overturning a
chair and knocking a servant down, and in the midst
of the general surprise, seized the lamp, rushed to the
azadi and threw it into the river. The whole thing
happened in a second, and the dining kiosk was left

(35:56):
in darkness. The lamp had already struck the water. Before
the servants could cry out thief, thief, and rush toward
the Azadi. A revolver cried one of them, A revolver
quick after the thief, but the figure, more agile than
they had, already mounted the balustrade, and before a light

(36:17):
could be brought, precipitated itself into the river, striking the
water with a loud splash. Three hundred and thirty four one.
Spanish etiquette requires a host to welcome his guest with
the conventional phrase the house belongs to you. Tir to
the handwriting on the wall at Belshazzar's feast for telling
the Destruction of Babylon, Daniel v. Twenty five to twenty

(36:41):
eight dot tr Contents, Chapter thirty six. Benzebe's afflictions. Immediately
upon hearing of the incident, after lights had been brought
and the scarcely dignified attitudes of the startled gods revealed,
ben Hisabe, filled with holy indignation, and with the approval
of the press censor secured beforehand, hastened home an entresol,

(37:02):
where he lived in a mess with others, to write
an article that would be the sublimest ever penned. Under
the skies of the Philippines. The Captain General would leave
disconsolate if he did not first enjoy his dithrams, and
this ben Zabe, in his kindness of heart, could not allow.
Hence he sacrificed the dinner and ball, nor did he
sleep that night. Sonorous exclamations of horror, of indignation, to

(37:27):
fancy that the world was smashing to pieces, and the stars,
the eternal stars, were clashing together. Then a mysterious introduction
filled with illusions veiled hints. Then an account of the affair,
and the final peroration. He multiplied the flourishes and exhausted
all his euphemisms in describing the drooping shoulders and the

(37:47):
tardy baptism of saladist Excellency had received on his olympian brow.
He eulogized the agility with which the General had recovered
a vertical position, placing his head where his legs had been,
and vice versa. Then in tone hymn to Providence for
having so solicitously guarded those sacred bones, the paragraph turned
out to be so perfect that his excellency appeared as

(38:08):
a hero and fell higher. As Victor Hugo said, he wrote, erased,
added and polished, so that, without wanting inveracity, this was
his special merit as a three hundred thirty five journalist.
The whole would be an epic grand for the seven gods,
cowardly and base for the unknown thief, who had executed himself,

(38:29):
terror stricken, and in the very act, convinced of the
enormity of his crime. He explained Padre Irene's act of
plunging under the table as an impulse of innate valor,
which the habit of a god of peace and gentleness,
worn throughout a whole life, had been unable to extinguish.
For Padre Irene had tried to hurl himself upon the
thief and had taken a straight course along the sub

(38:51):
mental route. In passing he spoke of submarine passages, mentioned
a project of Don Custodio's called Attention to the Liberal
das education and wide travels of the priest Padre Salvie.
Swoon was the excessive sorrow that took possession of the
virtuous Franciscan to see the little fruit borne among the
Indians by his pious sermons, while the immobility and fright

(39:12):
of the other guests, among them the countess who sustained
Padre Salvie, she grabbed him with the serenity and sang
freud of heroes ineared to danger in the performance of
their duties. Beside whom the Roman senator surprised by the
Gallic invaders, were nervous schoolgirls frightened at painted cockroaches. Afterwards,
to form a contrast the picture of the thief, fear, madness, confusion,

(39:37):
the fierce look, the distorted features and force of moral
superiority in the race his religious ought to see assembled
their such august personages. Here came in opportunely a long
imprecation harangue, a diatribe against the perversion of good customs,
hence the necessity of a permanent military tribunal, a declaration
of martial law within the limits already so declared special legislation,

(40:01):
energetic and repressive because it is in every way needful,
It is of imperative importance to impress upon the malefactors
and criminals that if the heart is generous and paternal,
for those who are submissive and obedient to the law.
The hand is strong, firm, inexorable, hard and severe for
those who, against all reason, fail to respect it, and
who insult the sacred institutions of them three hundred thirty

(40:24):
six Fatherland, Yes, gentlemen, this is demanded not only for
the welfare of these islands, not only for the welfare
of all mankind, but also in the name of Spain,
the honor of the Spanish name, the prestige of the
Iberian people, because before all things else Spaniards we are,
and the flag of Spain, et cetera. He terminated the

(40:45):
article with this farewell, go in peace, gallant warrior, you,
who with expert hand have guided the destinies of this
country in such calamitous times, go in peace to breathe
the balmy breezes of Mansanarus. One. We shall remain here,
like faith sentinels, to venerate your memory, to admire your
wise dispositions, to avenge the infamous attempt upon your splendid gift,

(41:07):
which we will recover, even if we have to dry
up the seas. Such a precious relic will be for
this country an eternal monument to your splendor, your presence
of mind your gallantry. In this rather confused way, he
concluded the article and before dawn send it to the
printing office, of course, with the censer's permit. Then he
went to sleep like Napoleon after he had arranged the

(41:29):
plan for the Battle of Jena. But at dawn he
was awakened to have the sheets of copy returned with
a note from the editor saying that his excellency had
positively and severely forbidden any mention of the affair, and
had further ordered the denial of any versions and comments
that might get abroad, discrediting them as exaggerated rumors. To
benz Ab this blow was the murder of a beautiful

(41:51):
and sturdy child, born and nurtured with such great pain
and fatigue. Where now hurl the Catalinarian pride the splendid
exhibition of warlike crime avenging materials, and to think that
within a month or two he was going to leave
the Philippines and the article could not be published in Spain,
since how could he say those things about the criminals
of Madrid? Where other ideas prevailed, Where three hundred and

(42:15):
thirty seven extenuating circumstances were sought, Where facts were weighed
where there were juries and so on. Articles such as
his were like certain poisonous RUMs that are manufactured in Europe,
good enough to be sold among the Negroes, good for
negroes too, with the difference that if the Negroes did
not drink them, they would not be destroyed. While Benzebe's articles,

(42:35):
whether the Filipinos read them or not, had their effect.
If only some other crime might be committed today or tomorrow,
he mused with the thought of that child dead. Before
seeing the light those frozen buds, and feeling his eyes
filled with tears, he dressed himself to call upon the editor,
but the editor shrugged his shoulders. His excellency had forbidden it, because,

(42:58):
if it should be divulged that seven of the greater
gods had let themselves be surprised and robbed by a
nobody while they brandished knives and forks, that would endanger
the integrity of the fatherland. So he had ordered that
no search be made for the lamb or the thief,
and had recommended to his successors that they should not
run the risk of dining in any private house without
being surrounded by halberdiers and guards, as those who knew

(43:22):
anything about the events that knight in Dawn Timoteo's house were,
for the most part military officials and government employees. It
was not difficult to suppress the affair in public, for
it concerned the integrity of the fatherland. Before this name,
benze bowed his head heroically, thinking about Abraham Guzman Albueno,
free or at least Brutus and other heroes of antiquity

(43:45):
such as sacrifice could not remain unrewarded, the gods of
journalism being pleased with Abraham benzeb Almost upon the hour
came the reporting angel bearing the sacrificial lamb in the
shape of an assault committed at a country house on
the Pacigue, where certain friars three hundred thirty eight spending
the heated season. Here was his opportunity, and benzeb praised

(44:06):
his gods. The robbers got over two thousand pesos, leaving
badly wounded one friar and two servants. The curate defended
himself as well as he could, behind a chair which
was smashed in his hands. Wait, wait, said benzebe, taking notes.
Forty or fifty outlaws traitorously revolvers, bolos, shotguns, pistols, lion

(44:30):
at bay, chair splinters flying, barbarously wounded ten thousand pesos.
So great was his enthusiasm that he was not content
with mere reports, but proceeded in person to the scene
of the crime, composing on the road a homeric description
of the fight, a harangue in the mouth of the leader,
a scornful defiance on the part of the priest. All

(44:53):
the metaphors and similes applied to his excellency, Padre Irene
and Padre Salvie would exactly fit the wounded friar, and
the description of the thief would serve for each of
the outlaws. The imprecation could be expanded, since he could
talk of religion, of the faith of charity, of the
ringing of bells, of what the Indians owed to the friars.

(45:13):
He could get sentimental and melt into Castellarian four epigrams
and lyric periods. The senoritas of the city would read
the article and murmur Ben's abe bold as a lion
and tender as a lamb. But when he reached the scene,
to his great astonishment, he learned that the wounded friar
was no other than Padre Kamora sentenced by his provincial

(45:33):
to expiate in the pleasant country house on the banks
of the Pasigis Pranks in Tienni. He had a slight
scratch on his hand and a bruise on his head,
received from flattening himself out on the floor. The robbers
numbered three or four, armed only with bolos, the sum
stolen fifty pesos. It won't do, exclaimed benz Abe. Shut up,

(45:56):
you don't know what you're talking about. How don't I
know unyals three hundred and thirty nine. Don't be a fool.
The robbers must have numbered more Ewink's linger. So they
had quite an altercation. What chiefly concerned Benze was not
to throw away the article, to give importance to the
affair so that he could use the peroration. But a

(46:19):
fearful rumor cut short their dispute. The robbers caught had
made some important revelations. One of the outlaws under Matangolin
Cape sang Tales, had made an appointment with them to
join his band in Santa Mesa, thence to sack the
conventos and houses of the wealthy. They would be guided
by a Spaniard, tall and sunburned with white hair, who

(46:40):
said that he was acting under the orders of the general,
whose great friend he was, and they had been further
assured that the artillery and various regiments would join them,
Wherefore they were to entertain no fear at all. The
Tulussans would be pardoned and have a third part of
the booty assigned to them. The signal was to have
been a cannon shot, But having waited for it in vain,
the Tulussanes, thinking themselves deceived, separated, some going back to

(47:05):
their homes, some returning to the mountains, vowing vengeance on
the Spaniard, who had thus failed twice to keep his word.
Then they, the robbers caught, had decided to do something
on their own account, attacking the country house that they
found closest at hand, resolving religiously to give two thirds
of the booty to the Spaniard with white Hair, if
perchance he should call upon them for it, the description

(47:28):
being recognized as that of Simon. The declaration was received
as an absurdity, and the robbers subjected to all kinds
of tortures, including the electric machine, for his impious blasphemy.
But news of the disappearance of the jeweler having attracted
the attention of the whole Escualta, and the sacks of
powder and great quantities of cartridges having been discovered in
his house, the story began to wear an appearance of truth.

(47:52):
Mystery began to enrapt the affair, enveloping it in clouds.
There three hundred forty were whispered conversations, coughs, suspicious looks,
suggestive comments, and trite secondhand remarks. Those who were on
the inside were unable to get over their astonishment. They
put on long faces, turned pale, and but little was

(48:13):
wanting for many persons to lose their minds in realizing
certain things that had before passed unnoticed. We've had a
narrow escape. Who would have said. In the afternoon, Ben's Abe,
his pockets filled with revolvers and cartridges, went to see
Don Custodio, whom he found hard at work over a
project against American jewelers. In a hushed voice, he whispered

(48:34):
between the palms of his hands into the journalist's ere
mysterious words really questioned Ben's Abe, slapping his hand on
his pocket and paling visibly wherever he may be found.
The sentence was completed with an expressive pantomime. Don Custodio
raised both arms to the height of his face, with
the right more bent than the left, turned the palms

(48:57):
of his hands toward the floor, closed one eye, and
made two movements in advance. Ssh ssh, He hissed, and
the diamonds inquired Benzabe if they find him. He went
through another pantomime, with the fingers of his right hand,
spreading them out and clenching them together like the closing
of a fan, clutching out with them somewhat in the

(49:19):
manner of the wings of a windmill, sweeping imaginary objects
toward itself with practiced skill. Benz Abe responded with another pantomime,
opening his eyes wide, arching his eyebrows, and sucking in
his breath eagerly, as though nutritious air had just been discovered.
Sssh three hundred and forty one one a town in
Siudad Real Province, Spain that tir To The italicized words

(49:43):
are in English in the original dot Tir free a
Spanish hero whose chief exploit was the capture of Gibraltar
from the Moors in thirteen o eight. Dot tir for
Emilio Castela eighteen thirty two to eighteen ninety nine, generally
regarded as the greatest of span Banish orators dot Tiar Contents,
chapter thirty seven, The Mystery to Do as He Sabbe.

(50:05):
Notwithstanding so many precautions, rumors reached the public, even though
quite changed and mutilated. On the following night, they were
the theme of comment in the house of Ornda, a
rich jewel merchant in the industrious district of Santa Cruz,
and the numerous friends of the family gave attention to
nothing else. They were not indulging in cards or playing

(50:25):
the piano, while little Teeney, the youngest of the girls,
became bored playing choonkaw by herself without being able to
understand the interest awakened by assaults, conspiracies and sacks of powder.
When there were in the seven holes so many beautiful
cowries that seemed to be winking at her in unison
and smiled with their tiny mouths half opened, begging to

(50:46):
be carried up to the home. Even Iigani, who when
he came always used to play with her and allow
himself to be beautifully cheated, did not come at her call.
For Isigani was gloomily and silently listening to something chi Choy,
the silversmith was relating Momoi, the betrothed of Sencha, the
eldest of the daughters, a pretty and vivacious girl rather

(51:07):
given to joking, had left the window, where he was
accustomed to spend his evenings in amorous discourse, and this
action seemed to be very annoying to the lory, whose
cage hung from the eaves. There. The laury endeared to
the house from its ability to greet everybody in the
morning with marvelous phrases of love. Capitana Lowling, the energetic
and intelligent Capitana Loling, had her account book opened before her,

(51:30):
but she three hundred forty two, neither read nor wrote
in it, nor was her attention fixed on the trays
of loose pearls, nor on the diamonds. She had completely
forgotten herself, and was all ears her husband himself, the
great Capitan touring Oi, a transformation of the name Domingo,
the happiest man in the district, without other occupation than

(51:52):
to dress well, eat loaf, and gossip while his whole
family worked and toiled, had not gone to join his coterie,
but was listening, between fear and emotion to the hair
raising news of the lang Chichoi. Nor was reason for
all this lacking. Chi Choe had gone to deliver some
work for Dantemo Teo Peliz, a pair of ear rings

(52:13):
for the bride, at the very time when they were
tearing down the kiosk that on the previous night had
served as a dining room for the foremost officials. Here
Chichoe turned pale and his hair stood on end. Naku,
He exclaimed, sacks and sacks of powder, Sacks of powder
under the floor, in the roof, under the table, under

(52:33):
the chairs, everywhere. It's lucky none of the workmen were smoking.
Who put those sacks of powder there? Asked Capitana Lowling,
who was brave and did not turn pale as did
the enamored Momoi. But Momoi had attended the wedding, so
his posthumous emotion can be appreciated. He had been near
the kiosk. That's what no one can explain, replied Chichoe.

(52:58):
Who would have any interest in breaking up the fiesta?
There couldn't have been more than one, as the celebrated
lawyer Senor Pasta, who was there on a visit, declared
either an enemy of Don Timoteo's or a rival of Juanito's.
The Oranda girls turned instinctively toward Isigani, who smiled silently,
Hide yourself. Capitana Loling advised him, they may accuse you.

(53:22):
Hide again. Isigani smiled but said nothing. Don Timoteo continued,
chichioly did not know to three hundred forty three whom
to attribute the deed. He himself superintended the work. He
and his friend Simon, and nobody else. The house was
thrown into an uproar. The lieutenant of the guard came

(53:44):
and after enjoining secrecy upon everybody, they sent me away.
But but but stammered the trembling momoi nacu ejaculated Sencha,
gazing at her fiancee and trembling sympathetically to remember that
he had been at the fiesta, this young man. If
the house had blown up, she stared at her sweetheart

(54:04):
passionately and admired his courage. If it had blown up,
no one in the whole of kye Onlolag would have
been left alive, concluded Capitan Toringoi, feigning valor and indifference.
In the presence of his family, I left in consternation
resumed Chi Choe, thinking about how if a mere spark
a cigarette had fallen, if a lamp had been overturned.

(54:26):
At the present moment, we should have neither a general,
nor an archbishop, nor any one, not even a government clerk.
All who were at the fiesta last night annihilated Virgin Santissima.
This young man Sasmeriosep, exclaimed Capitana Lowling. All our debtors
were there, Susmeriosep, And we have a house near there.

(54:50):
Who could it have been? Now you may know about it,
added Chi Choe in a whisper, but you must keep
it a secret. This afternoon I met a friend, a
clerk in an office, and in talking about the affair,
he gave me the clue to the mystery. He had
it from some government employees. Who do you suppose put
the sacks of powder there? Many shrugged their shoulders, while

(55:12):
Capy tan Toringoy merely looked askance at Isigani, the friars Kiroga,
the Chinaman, some student Mackareig three hundred and forty four.
Cappy tan Toringoy coughed and glanced at Isigani, while Chichoi
shook his head and smiled the jeweler Simon, Simon. The

(55:35):
profound silence of amazement followed these words, Simon, the evil
genius of the captain General, the rich traitor to whose
house they had gone to buy unset gems, Simon, who
had received the Ornda girls with great courtesy and had
paid them fine compliments. For the very reason that the
story seemed absurd, it was believed credo kea absurdam, said

(55:57):
Saint Augustine. But wasn't Simon at the fiesta last night,
asked Sencha. Yes, said MOMOI, but now I remember he
left the house just as we were sitting down to
the dinner. He went to get his wedding gift. But
wasn't he a friend of the generals. Wasn't he a

(56:17):
partner of Don Tomoteo's. Yes, he made himself a partner
in order to strike the blow and kill all the Spaniards. Aha,
cried Sencha. Now I understand what you didn't want to believe, Auntente.
Symon is the devil, and he has bought up the
souls of all the Spaniards. Aunt Tente said, so. Capitana, lolling,

(56:42):
crossed herself and looked uneasily toward the jewels, fearing to
see them turn into live coals, while Capitan Toringway took
off the ring which had come from Simon. Simon has
disappeared without leaving any traces, added Chiccholy. The civil guard
is searching for him. Yes, observed Sencha crossing herself, searching

(57:03):
for the devil. Now many things were explained, Simons's fabulous
wealth and the peculiar smell in his house, the smell
of sulfur. Bindi, another of the daughters, a frank and
lovely girl, remembered having seen blue flames in the three
hundred and forty five Jeweler's house one afternoon when she
and her mother had gone there to buy jewels. Isigani

(57:25):
listened attentively but said nothing. So last night ventured Momoi.
Last night echoed Sencha. Between curiosity and fear. Momoi hesitated,
but the face Sensha put On banished his fear. Last night,
while we were eating, there was a disturbance. The light
in the General's dining room went out. They say that

(57:48):
some unknown person stole the lamp that was presented by Simon.
A thief. One of the black hand, Isigani arose to
walk back and forth. Did they catch him? He jumped
into the river before anybody recognized him. Some say he
was a Spaniard, some a Chinaman, and others an Indian.

(58:10):
It's believed that with the lamp added chi choe, he
was going to set fire to the house, then the powder.
Momoi again shuddered, but noticing that Sencha was watching him,
try to control himself. What a pity, he exclaimed, with
an effort, how wickedly the thief acted. Everybody would have
been killed. Sencha stared at him in fright. The women

(58:33):
crossed themselves, while Capitan Touringoi, who was afraid of politics,
made a move to go away. Momoi turned to Isigani,
who observed with an enigmatic smile, it's always wicked to
take what doesn't belong to you. If that thief had
known what it was all about and had been able
to reflect, surely he wouldn't have done as he did. Then,

(58:54):
after a pause, he added, for nothing in the world
would I want to be in his place. So they
continued their comments and conjectures until an hour later, when
Aigani bade the family farewell to return forever to his
uncle's side. Three hundred and forty six Contents, Chapter thirty eight.
Fatality Metangloin was the terror of Luzan. His band had

(59:16):
as leaf appear in one province where it was least
expected as make a descent upon another that was preparing
to resist it. It burned a sugar mill in Batangas
and destroyed the crops. On the following day, it murdered
the Justice of the Peace of Tiani, and on the
next took possession of the town of Kvida, carrying off
the arms from the town hall. The central provinces from

(59:37):
Tayabas to Pangasinan suffered from his depredations, and his bloody
name extended from all Bay in the south to Kagayan
in the north. The towns, disarmed through mistrust on the
part of a weak government, fell easy prey into his hands.
At his approach, the fields were abandoned by the farmers,
the herds were scattered, while a trail of blood and
fire marked his passage. Mettanglin laughed at the severe measures

(01:00:01):
ordered by the government against the Tulusans, since from them
only the people in the outlying villages suffered, being captured
and maltreated if they resisted the band, and if they
made peace with it, being flogged and deported by the government,
provided they completed the journey and did not meet with
a fatal accident on the way. Thanks to these terrible alternatives,
many of the country folk decided to enlist under his command.

(01:00:25):
As a result of this reign of terror, trade among
the towns, already languishing, died out completely. The rich dared
not travel, and the poor fear to be arrested by
the civil guard, which, being under obligation to pursue the Tulusans,
often seized the first person encountered and subjected him to
unspeakable tortures. In its impotence, the three hundred forty seven

(01:00:48):
government put on a show of energy toward the persons
whom it suspected, in order that, by force of cruelty,
the people should not realize its weakness. The fear that
prompted such measures. A string of these hapless suspect, some
six or seven, with their arms tied behind them, bound
together like a bunch of human meat, was one afternoon
marching through the excessive heat along a road that skirted

(01:01:09):
a mountain, escorted by ten or twelve guards armed with rifles.
Their bayonets gleamed in the sun, the barrels of their
rifles became hot, and even the sage leaves in their
helmets scarcely served to temper the effect of the deadly
may sun. Deprived of the use of their arms, and
pressed close against one another to save rope, The prisoners
moved along, almost uncovered and unshod, he being the best off,

(01:01:32):
who had a handkerchief twisted around his head, panting, suffering,
covered with dust which perspiration converted into mud. They felt
their brains melting. They saw lights dancing before them, red
spots floating in the air. Exhaustion and dejection were pictured
in their faces, desperation, wrath, something indescribable, the look of

(01:01:53):
one who dies, cursing, of a man who is weary
of life, who hates himself, who blasphemes against God. The
strongest lowered their heads to rub their faces against the
dusky backs of those in front of them, and thus
wipe away the sweat that was blinding them. Many were limping,
But if any one of them happened to fall and
thus delay the march, he would hear a curse. As

(01:02:13):
a soldier ran up, brandishing a branch torn from a tree,
and forced him to rise by striking about in all directions.
The string then started to run, dragging, rolling in the dust.
The fallen one who howled and begged to be killed.
But perchance he succeeded in getting on his feet, and
then went along, crying like a child and cursing the
hour he was born. The human cluster halted at times

(01:02:35):
while the guards drank, and then the prisoners continued on
their way, with three hundred forty eight parched mouths, darkened brains,
and hearts full of curses. Thirst was for these wretches
the least of their troubles. Move on, you, sons of
cried a soldier, again, refreshed, hurling the insult common among

(01:02:56):
the lower classes of Filipinos. The branch whistled and fell
on any shoulder whatsoever the nearest one, or at times
upon a face, to leave a welt, at first white,
then red, and later dirty with the dust of the road.
Move on, you cowards. At times a voice yelled in Spanish,
deepening its tone. Cowards repeated the mountain echoes. Then the

(01:03:20):
cowards quickened their pace under a sky of red hot
iron over a burning road, lashed by the knotty branch,
which was worn into shreds on their livid skins. A
Siberian winter would perhaps be tender than the mace son
of the Philippines. Yet among the soldiers there was one
who looked with disapproving eyes upon so much want and cruelty,
as he marched along silently with his brows knit in disgust.

(01:03:44):
At length, seeing that the guard, not satisfied with the branch,
was kicking the prisoners that fell, he could no longer
restrain himself, but cried out impatiently, here Mao Tang let
them alone. Mao Tang turned toward him in surprise. What's
it to you, Carolino, he asked to me. Nothing but
it hurts me, replied Carolino. They're men like ourselves. It's

(01:04:09):
plain that you're new to the business, retorted Mao Tang,
with a compassionate smile. How did you treat the prisoners
in the war with more consideration, surely, answered Carolino. Mao
Tang remained silent for a moment, and then, apparently having
discovered the reason, calmly rejoined, Ah, it's because they are
enemies and fight us, while these these are our own countrymen. Then,

(01:04:34):
drawing nearer to Carolino, he whispered, how three hundred forty
nine stupid you are? They're treated so in order that
they may attempt to resist or to escape, and then bang.
Carolino made no reply. One of the prisoners then begged
that they let him stop for a moment. This is
a dangerous place, answered the corporal, gazing uneasily toward the mountain.

(01:04:59):
Move on, move on, echoed Mautang, and his lash whistled.
The prisoner twisted himself around to stare at him with
reproachful eyes. You are more cruel than the spaniard himself,
he said. Mau Tang replied with more blows, when suddenly
a bullet whistled, followed by a loud report. Mautang dropped

(01:05:20):
his rifle, uttered an oath, and, clutching at his breast
with both hands, fell, spinning into a heap. The prisoner
saw him writhing in the dust, with blood spurting from
his mouth. Halt, called the corporal, suddenly turning pale. The
soldiers stopped and stared about them. A wisp of smoke
rose from a thicket on the height above. Another bullet

(01:05:42):
sang to its accompanying report, and the corporal, wounded in
the thigh, doubled over, vomiting curses. The column was attacked
by men hidden among the rocks above. Sullen with raged,
the corporal motion toward the string of prisoners and laconically
ordered fire. The wretches fell up upon their knees, filled
with consternation as they could not lift their hands. They

(01:06:05):
begged for mercy by kissing the dust or bowing their heads.
One talked of his children, another of his mother, who
would be left unprotected. One promised money, another called upon God.
But the muzzles were quickly lowered, and a hideous volley
silenced them. All then began the sharp shooting against those
who were behind the rocks above, over which a light
cloud of smoke began to hover. To judge from the

(01:06:28):
scarcity of their shots, the invisible enemies could not have
more than three rifles. As they advanced firing, the guards
sought cover behind three hundred fifty tree trunks, or crouched down.
As they attempted to scale the height. Splintered rocks leaped up,
broken twigs fell from trees, patches of earth were torn up,
and the first guard who attempted the ascent rolled back

(01:06:50):
with a bullet through his shoulder. The hidden enemy had
the advantage of position, but the valiant guards, who did
not know how to flee, were on the point of retiring,
for they had paused, unwilling to advance. That fight against
the invisible unnerved them. Smoke and rocks alone could be seen.
Not a voice was heard, not a shadow appeared. They

(01:07:11):
seemed to be fighting with the mountain. Shoot Carolino, what
are you aiming at? Called the corporal. At that instant,
a man appeared upon a rock, making signs with his rifle.
Shoot him, ordered the corporal with a foul loath. Three
guards obeyed the order, but the man continued standing there,

(01:07:31):
calling out at the top of his voice something unintelligible.
Carolino paused, thinking that he recognized something familiar about that figure,
which stood out plainly in the sunlight. But the corporal
threatened to tie him up if he did not fire,
so Carolino took aim, and the report of his rifle
was heard. The man on the rock spun around and

(01:07:51):
disappeared with a cry that left Carollino horror stricken. Then
followed a rustling in the bushes, indicating that those within
were scattering in all directions, so the soldiers boldly advanced,
now that there was no more resistance. Another man appeared
upon the rock waving a spear, and they fired at him.
He sank down slowly, catching at the branch of a tree,

(01:08:14):
but with another volley, fell face downwards on the rock.
The guards climbed on nimbly with bayonets fixed, ready for
a hand to hand fight. Carolino alone moved forward reluctantly
with a wandering, gloomy look, the cry of the man
struck by his bullet still ringing in his ears. The
three hundred and fifty one first to reach the spot

(01:08:35):
found an old man dying stretched out on the rock.
He plunged his bayonet into the body, but the old
man did not even wink, his eyes being fixed on
Carolino with an indescribable gaze, while with his bony hand
he pointed to something behind the rock. The soldiers turned
to see caroline frightfully pale, his mouth hanging open, with
a look in which glimmered the last spark of reason

(01:08:57):
for Carolino, who was no other than Topano Cape sang
Tale's son, and who had just returned from the Carolines,
recognized in the dying man his grandfather tandang Sello. No
longer able to speak, the old man's dying eyes uttered
a whole poem of grief and then a corpse. He
still continued to point to something behind the rock three

(01:09:18):
hundred and fifty two Contents, Chapter thirty nine conclusion. In
his solitary retreat on the shore of the sea, whose
mobile surface was visible through the open windows, extending outward
until it mingled with the horizon, Padre Florentino was relieving
the monotony by playing on his harmonium sad and melancholy tunes,
to which the sonorous roar of the surf and the

(01:09:40):
sighing of the tree tops of the neighboring would serve
as accompaniments. Notes long full, mournful, as a prayer, yet
still vigorous, escaped from the old instrument. Padre Florentino, who
was an accomplished musician, was improvising, and as he was alone,
gave free rein to the sadness in his heart. For

(01:10:00):
the truth was that the old man was very sad.
His good friend Don Tibercio de Espadana had just left
him fleeing from the persecution of his wife. That morning,
he had received a note from the lieutenant of the
Civil Guard which ran, thus, my dear Chaplain, I have
just received from the commandan to telegram that says spaniard

(01:10:20):
hidden house Padre Florentino capture forward alive dead. As the
telegram is quite explicit, warn your friend not to be
there when I come to arrest him at eight to night. Affectionately,
Perez burned this note, te that Vivictorina don Tibercio had
stammered as she see capable of having me s shot.

(01:10:42):
Padre Florentino was unable to reassure him. Vainly, he pointed
out to him that the word codra should have read
cadra one, and that the hidden Spaniard could not be
done three hundred and fifty three to Bersio. But the
jeweler Simon, who two days before had arrived wounded and
a fugitive begging for shelter. But Don Tiburcio would not

(01:11:03):
be convinced. Cadro was his own lameness, his personal description,
and it was an intrigue of Victorinus to get him
back alive or dead, as Isigoni had written for Manila.
So the poor Ulysses had left the priest's house to
conceal himself in the hut of a woodcutter. No doubt
was entertained by Padre Florentino that the Spaniard wanted was

(01:11:23):
the jeweler Simon, who had arrived mysteriously himself carrying the
jewel chest, bleeding, morose, and exhausted. With the free and
cordial Filipino hospitality, the priest had taken him in without
asking indiscreet questions, and as news of the events in
Manila had not yet reached his ears, he was unable
to understand the situation clearly. The only conjecture that occurred

(01:11:46):
to him was that the General, the Jeweler's friend and protector,
being gone, probably his enemies, the victims of wrong and abuse,
were now rising and calling for vengeance, and that the
acting governor was pursuing him to make him disgorge the
wealth he had had accumulated, hence his flight. But whence
came his wounds, had he tried to commit suicide? Were

(01:12:08):
they the result of personal revenge or were they merely
caused by an accident, as Simons claimed, had they been
received in escaping from the force that was pursuing him.
This last conjecture was the one that seemed to have
the greatest appearance of probability, being further strengthened by the
telegram received in Simmons decided unwillingness from the start to

(01:12:28):
be treated by the doctor from the capital. The jeweler
submitted only to the ministrations of Don Tiburcio, and even
to them with marked distrust. In this situation, Padre Florentino
was asking himself what three hundred and fifty four line
of conduct he should pursue. When the civil guard came
to arrest Simon. His condition would not permit his removal,

(01:12:50):
much less a long journey. But the telegram set alive
or dead. Padre Florentine ceased playing and approached the window
to gaze out at the sea, whose desolate surface was
without a ship, without a sail. It gave him no suggestion.
A solitary islet outlined in the distance, spoke only of
solitude and made the space more lonely. Infinity is at

(01:13:12):
times despairingly mute. The old man was trying to analyze
the sad and ironical smile with which Symon had received
the news that he was to be arrested. What did
that smile mean? And that other smile, still sadder and
more ironical, with which he received the news that they
would not come before aid at night? What did all
this mystery signify? Why did Symon refuse to hide? There

(01:13:37):
came into his mind the celebrated saying of Saint John Chrisostom,
when he was defending the eunuch Eutropius. Never was a
better time than this to say, vanity of vanities and
all his vanity. Yes, that Simon, so rich, so powerful,
so feared a week ago, and now more unfortunate than Eutropius,
was seeking refuge not at the altars of a church,

(01:13:58):
but in the miserable house of a poor native priest,
hidden in the forest, on the solitary seashore. Vanity of
vanities and all his vanity. That man would within a
few hours be a prisoner, dragged from the bed where
he lay, without respect for his condition, without consideration for
his wounds, dead or alive, his enemies demanded him, How

(01:14:19):
could he save him? Where could he find the moving
accents of the Bishop of Constantinople. What weight would his
weak words have the words of a native priest whose
own humiliation the same Simon had in his better days
seemed to applaud and encourage. But Padre Florentine no longer
recalled the indifferent reception that two months before the jeweler

(01:14:40):
had accorded to him when he had tried to interest
him in favor of Isogani three hundred and fifty five
than a prisoner on account of his imprudent chivalry. He
forgot the activity Simon had displayed in urging Paulita's marriage,
which had plunged Iigani into the fearful misanthrope that was
worrying his uncle. He forgot all these things and thought
only of the a sick man's plight and his own

(01:15:01):
obligations as a host. Until his senses reeled, where must
he hide him to avoid his falling into the clutches
of the authorities. But the person chiefly concerned was not worrying.
He was smiling. While he was pondering over these things.
The old man was approached by a servant, who said
that the sick man wished to speak with him. So
he went into the next room a clean and well

(01:15:23):
ventilated apartment with a floor of wide boards, smoothed and polished,
and simply furnished with big heavy arm chairs of ancient design,
without varnish or paint. At one end there was a
large camegon bed with its four posts to support the canopy,
and beside it a table covered with bottles, lint, and bandages.

(01:15:44):
A praying desk at the feet of a christ in
a scanty library led to the suspicion that it was
the priest's own bedroom given up to his guest according
to the Filipino custom of offering to the stranger the
best table, the best room, and the best bed in
the house. Upon seeing the windows opened war to admit
freely the healthful sea breeze and the echoes of its
eternal lament, no one in the Philippines would have said

(01:16:05):
that a sick person was to be found there, since
it is the custom to close all the windows and
stop up all the cracks just as soon as any
one catches a cold or gets an insignificant headache. Padre
Florentine looked toward the bed and was astonished to see
that the sick man's face had lost its tranquil and
ironical expression. Hidden grief seemed to knit his brows. Anxiety

(01:16:27):
was depicted in his looks. His lips were curled in
a smile of pain. Are you suffering? Senor Simon asked
the priest, solicitously, going to his side some But in
a little while I shall cease to suffer, he replied
with a shake of his head. Three hundred and fifty six.
Padre Florentine clasped his hands in fright, suspecting that he

(01:16:49):
understood the terrible truth. My god, what have you done?
What have you taken? He reached toward the bottles. It's
useless now, there's no remedy at all, answered Symon with
a pained smile. What did you expect me to do
before the clock strikes eight? Alive or dead? Dead? Yes?

(01:17:12):
But alive? No? My god, what have you done? Be
calm urged the sick man with a wave of his hand.
What's done is done. I must not fall into anybody's hands.
My secret would be torn from me. Don't get excited,
don't lose your head. It's useless. Listen, the night is

(01:17:33):
coming on and there's no time to be lost. I
must tell you my secret and intrust to you my
last request. I must lay my life open before you
at the supreme moment. I want to lighten myself of
a load. I want to clear up a doubt of mine. You,
who believe so firmly in God, I want you to
tell me if there is a God but an antidote,

(01:17:55):
send your symon. I have ether chloroform. The priest began
to search for a flask, until Symon cried impatiently, useless.
It's useless. Don't waste time. I'll go away with my secret.
The bewildered priest fell down at his desk and prayed
at the feet of the Christ, hiding his face in

(01:18:15):
his hands. Then he arose serious and grave, as if
he had received from his God all the force, all
the dignity, all the authority of the judge of consciences.
Moving a chair to the head of the bed, he
prepared to listen. At the first word Symon murmured. When
he told his real name, the old priest started back
and gazed at him in terror. Whereat the sick man

(01:18:37):
smiled bitterly. Taken by surprise, the priest was not master
of himself, but he soon recovered and covering his face
with a handkerchief. Again bent over to listen, Symon related
his sorrowful story how thirteen years, three hundred and fifty
seven before he had returned from Europe, filled with hopes
and smiling illusions, having come back to marry a girl

(01:18:59):
whom he disposed to do good and forgive all who
had wronged him, just so they would let him live
in peace. But it was not so. A mysterious hand
involved him in the confusion of an uprising plan by
his enemies name fortune, love, future, liberty. All were lost,
and he escaped only through the heroism of a friend.

(01:19:21):
Then he swore vengeance with the wealth of his family,
which had been buried in a wood. He had fled,
had gone to foreign lands and engaged in trade. He
took part in the war in Cuba, aiding first one
side and then another, but always profiting. There he made
the acquaintance of the general, then a major, whose good
will he won first by loans of money, and afterwards

(01:19:44):
he made a friend of him by the knowledge of
criminal secrets. With his money, he had been able to
secure the general's appointment, and once in the Philippines he
had used him as a blind tool, and incited him
to all kinds of injustice, availing himself of his insatiable
lust for gold. The confession was long and tedious, but
during the whole of it the confessor made no further

(01:20:05):
sign of surprise and rarely interrupted the sick man. It
was night when Padre Florentino, wiping the perspiration from his face,
arose and began to meditate. Mysterious darkness flooded the room,
so that the moonbeams entering through the window filled it
with vague lights and vaporous reflections. Into the midst of
the silence, the priest's voice broke, sad and deliberate, but consoling.

(01:20:29):
God will forgive you, Senor Simon, he said, He knows
that we are fallible. He has seen that you have suffered,
and in ordaining that the chastisement for your faults should
come as death from the very ones you have instigated
to crime, we can see his infinite mercy. He has
frustrated your plans one by one, the best conceived, first
by the death of Maria Clara, then by a lack

(01:20:51):
of preparation. Then, in some mysterious way, let us bow
to his will and render him thanks three hundred and
fifty eight. According to you, then, feebly responded the sick man,
His will is that these islands should continue in the
condition in which they suffer. Finish the priest, seeing that
the other hesitated. I don't know, sir, I can't read

(01:21:13):
the thought of the inscrutable. I know that he has
not abandoned those peoples who, in their supreme moments have
trusted in him and made him the judge of their cause.
I know that his arm has never failed. When justice
long trampled upon and every recourse gone, the oppressed have
taken up the sword to fight for home and wife
and children, for their inalienable rights, which, as the German

(01:21:34):
poet says, shine ever there above, unextinguished and inextinguishable, like
the eternal stars themselves. No God is justice. He cannot
abandon his cause, the cause of liberty, without which no
justice is possible. Why then, has he denied me his aid,
asked the sick man, in a voice charged with bitter complaint.

(01:21:56):
Because you chose means that he could not sanction, was
the severe reply. The glory of saving a country is
not for him who has contributed to its ruin. You
have believed that what crime and iniquity have defiled and deformed,
another crime and another iniquity can purify and redeem wrong.
Hate never produces anything but monsters and crime criminals. Love

(01:22:19):
alone realizes wonderful works. Virtue alone can save no. If
our country has ever to be free, it will not
be through vice and crime. It will not be so
by corrupting its sons, deceiving some, and bribing others. No
redemption presupposes virtue, Virtue, sacrifice, and sacrifice. Love well, I

(01:22:41):
accept your explanation, rejoined the sick man after a pause.
I have been mistaken. But because I have been mistaken,
will that God deny liberty to a people and yet
save many who are much worse criminals than I am?
What is my mistake compared to the crimes of our rulers?
Why has that God to give more heat to my
iniquity than to the cries of so many innocents? Why

(01:23:04):
has he not stricken me down and then made the
people triumph? Why three hundred and fifty nine does he
let so many worthy and just one suffer and look
complacently upon their tortures That just and the worthy must
suffer in order that their ideas may be known and extended.
You must shake or shatter the vase to spread its perfume.
You must smite the rock to get the spark. There

(01:23:27):
is something providential in the persecutions of tyrants, Senor Simon.
I knew it, murmured the sick man, and therefore I
encouraged the tyranny. Yes, my friend, but more corrupt influences
than anything else were spread. You fostered the social rottenness
without sowing an idea. From this fermentation of vices, loathing

(01:23:48):
alone could spring, and if anything were born overnight, it
would be at best a mushroom, for mushrooms only can
spring spontaneously from filth. True, it is that the vices
of the government are fatal to it. They cause its death,
but they kill also the society in whose bosom they
are developed. An immoral government presupposes a demoralized people, a

(01:24:09):
conscienceless administration, greedy and servile citizens in the settled parts,
outlaws and brigands in the mountains like master, like slave,
like government, like country. A brief pause ensued broken at
length by the sick man's voice. Then what can be done?
Suffer and work, Suffer, work, echoed the sick man bitterly. Ah,

(01:24:35):
it's easy to say that when you are not suffering,
when the work is rewarded. If your God demands such
great sacrifices from man, man who can scarcely count upon
the present and doubts the future, if you had seen
what I have, the miserable, the wretched, suffering unspeakable tortures
for crimes. They have not committed murder to cover up
the faults and incapacity of others. Poor fathers of families

(01:24:59):
torn from their homes to work to no purpose upon
highways that are destroyed each day and seem only to
serve for sinking families into want. Ah. To suffer to
work is the will of God. Convince them that their
murder is there three hundred and sixty salvation, that their
work is the prosperity of the home. To suffer to work,

(01:25:20):
what God is that? A very just God? Senor Simon
replied the priest, A God who chastises our lack of faith,
our vices, the little esteem in which we hold dignity,
and the civic virtues we tolerate. Vice. We make ourselves
its accomplices. At times we applaud it and it is just,

(01:25:41):
very just that we suffer the consequences that our children
suffer them. It is the God of liberty, senor Symon,
who obliges us to love it by making the yoke
heavy for us, a god of mercy, of equity, who,
while he chastises us, betters us, and only grants prosperity
to him who has merited it through his efforts. The
school of suffering tempers the arena of combat strengthens the soul.

(01:26:06):
I do not mean to say that our liberty will
be secured at the sword's point, for the sword plays
but little part in modern affairs, but that we must
secure it by making ourselves worthy of it, by exalting
the intelligence and the dignity of the individual, by loving justice, right,
and greatness, even to the extent of dying for them.
And when a people reaches that height, God will provide

(01:26:27):
a weapon. The idols will be shattered, the tyranny will
crumble like a house of cards, and liberty will shine
out like the first dawn. Our ills we owe to
ourselves alone. So let us blame no one. If Spain
should see that we were less complaisant with tyranny and
more disposed to struggle and suffer for our rights. Spain
would be the first to grant us liberty, because when

(01:26:48):
the fruit of the womb reaches maturity, woe unto the
mother who would stifle it. So while the Filipino people
has not sufficient energy to proclaim with head erect and
Bosom beared its rights to social life and to guarantee
it with its sacrifices, with its own blood. While we
see our countrymen in private life ashamed within themselves, hear
the voice of conscience roar in rebellion and protest, yet

(01:27:11):
in public life keeps silence or even echo the words
of him who abuses them, in order to mock the abused.
While we see them wrap themselves up in their egotism
and with a three hundred sixty one forced smile, praise
the most iniquitous actions, begging with their eyes a portion
of the booty. Why grant them liberty? With Spain or
without Spain, they would always be the same, and perhaps worse.

(01:27:34):
Why independence? If the slaves of to day will be
the tyrants of tomorrow, And that they will be such
is not to be doubted. For he who submits to
tyranny loves it senyor Simon. When our people is unprepared,
when it enters the fight through fraud and force without
a clear understanding of what it is doing, the wisest
attempts will fail, and better that they do fail, Since

(01:27:55):
why commit the wife to the husband if he does
not sufficiently love her, if he is not ready to
die for her. Padre Florentino felt the sick man catch
and press his hand, so he became silent, hoping that
the other might speak, But he merely felt a stronger
pressure of the hand, heard a sigh, and then profound
silence reigned in the room. Only the sea, whose waves

(01:28:17):
were rippled by the night breeze, as though awaking from
the heat of the day, sent its horse roar its
eternal chant as it rolled against the jagged rocks. The moon,
now free from the sun's rivalry, peacefully commanded the sky,
and the trees of the forest bent down toward one another,
telling their ancient legends and mysterious murmurs borne on the
wings of the wind. The sick man said nothing, so

(01:28:41):
Padre Florentino, deeply thoughtful, murmured, where are the youth who
will consecrate their golden hours, their illusions, and their enthusiasm
to the welfare of their native land. Where are the
youth who will generously pour out their blood to wash
away so much shame, so much crime, so much abomination,
fure and spotless. Must the victim be that the sacrifice

(01:29:03):
may be acceptable? Where are you, youth, who will embody
in yourselves the vigor of life that has left our veins,
the purity of ideas that has been contaminated in our brains,
the fire of enthusiasm that has been quenched in our hearts.
We await you, o youth, Come for we await you.
Feeling his eyes moistened, he withdrew his hand from that.

(01:29:25):
Three hundred sixty two of the sick man arose and
went to the window to gaze out upon the wide
surface of the sea. He was drawn from his meditation
by gentle raps at the door. It was the servant,
asking if he should bring a light. When the priest
returned to the sick man and looked at him in
the light of the lamp, motionless, his eyes closed. The

(01:29:46):
hand that had pressed his lying open and extended along
the edge of the bed. He thought for a moment
that he was sleeping, but noticing that he was not breathing,
touched him gently, and then realized that he was dead.
His body had already commenced to turn and cold. The
priest fell upon his knees and prayed. When he arose
and contemplated the corpse, in whose features were depicted the

(01:30:08):
deepest grief, the tragedy of a whole wasted life, which
he was carrying over there beyond death. The old man
shuddered and murmured, God, have mercy on those who turned
him from the straight path, while the servants summoned by
him fell upon their knees and prayed for the dead man,
Curious and bewildered as they gazed toward the bed, reciting
requiem after requiem, Padre Florentino took from a cabinet the

(01:30:31):
celebrated steel chest that contained simmons fabulous wealth. He hesitated
for a moment, then resolutely descended the stairs and made
his way to the cliff, where Isigoni was accustomed to
sit and gaze into the depths of the sea. Padre
Florentino looked down at his feet. There below he saw
the dark billows of the Pacific beating into the hollows

(01:30:52):
of the cliff, producing Sonora's thunder at the same time that,
smitten by the moonbeams, the waves and foam glittered like
sparks of fire, like handfuls of diamonds hurled into the
air by some genee of the abyss. He gazed about him.
He was alone. The solitary coast was lost in the
distance amid the dim cloud that the moonbeams played through

(01:31:14):
until it mingled with the horizon. The forest murmured unintelligible sounds.
Then the old man, with an effort of his herculean arms,
hurled the chest into space, throwing it toward the sea.
It three hundred and sixty three whirled over and over
several times, and descended rapidly in a slight curve, reflecting

(01:31:34):
the moonlight on its polished surface. The old man saw
the drops of water fly and heard a loud splash
as the abyss closed over and swallowed up the treasure.
He waited for a few moments to see if the
depths would restore anything, but the wave rolled on as
mysteriously as before, without adding a fold to its rippling surface,
as though into the immensity of the sea. A pebble

(01:31:55):
only had been dropped. May Nature guard you in her
deep abysses, among the pearl and quarrels of her eternal sees,
then said the priest, solemnly extending his hands. When for
some holy and sublime purposed man may need you, God will,
in his wisdom draw you from the bosom of the waves. Meanwhile,
there you will not work woe, You will not distort justice,

(01:32:17):
You will not foment avarice. The end. Thanks for listening.

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The Reign of Greed by José Rizal - Part 2/2

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.css-14f5ked{margin:0;word-break:break-word;display:-webkit-box;-webkit-box-orient:vertical;box-orient:vertical;-webkit-line-clamp:2;overflow:hidden;}The Reign of Greed by José Rizal - Part 2/2