Noli me tángere. English

by José Rizal

  EPILOGUE

  Since some of our characters are still living and others have been lostsight of, a real epilogue is impossible. For the satisfaction of thegroundlings we should gladly kill off all of them, beginning with PadreSalvi and ending with Dona Victorina, but this is not possible. Letthem live! Anyhow, the country, not ourselves, has to support them.

  After Maria Clara entered the nunnery, Padre Damaso left his townto live in Manila, as did also Padre Salvi, who, while he awaits avacant miter, preaches sometimes in the church of St. Clara, in whosenunnery he discharges the duties of an important office. Not manymonths had passed when Padre Damaso received an order from the VeryReverend Father Provincial to occupy a curacy in a remote province. Itis related that he was so grievously affected by this that on thefollowing day he was found dead in his bedchamber. Some said thathe had died of an apoplectic stroke, others of a nightmare, but hisphysician dissipated all doubts by declaring that he had died suddenly.

  None of our readers would now recognize Capitan Tiago. Weeks beforeMaria Clara took the vows he fell into a state of depression so greatthat he grew sad and thin, and became pensive and distrustful, likehis former friend, Capitan Tinong. As soon as the doors of the nunneryclosed he ordered his disconsolate cousin, Aunt Isabel, to collectwhatever had belonged to his daughter and his dead wife and to go tomake her home in Malabon or San Diego, since he wished to live alonethenceforward, tie then devoted himself passionately to _liam-po_ andthe cockpit, and began to smoke opium. He no longer goes to Antipolonor does he order any more masses, so Dona Patrocinia, his old rival,celebrates her triumph piously by snoring during the sermons. If atany time during the late afternoon you should walk along Calle SantoCristo, you would see seated in a Chinese shop a small man, yellow,thin, and bent, with stained and dirty finger nails, gazing throughdreamy, sunken eyes at the passers-by as if he did not see them. Atnightfall you would see him rise with difficulty and, supportinghimself on his cane, make his way to a narrow little by-street toenter a grimy building over the door of which may be seen in largered letters: FUMADERO PUBLICO DE ANFION. [173] This is that CapitanTiago who was so celebrated, but who is now completely forgotten,even by the very senior sacristan himself.

  Dona Victorina has added to her false frizzes and to her_Andalusization_, if we may be permitted the term, the new customof driving the carriage horses herself, obliging Don Tiburcio toremain quiet. Since many unfortunate accidents occurred on accountof the weakness of her eyes, she has taken to wearing spectacles,which give her a marvelous appearance. The doctor has never beencalled upon again to attend any one and the servants see him manydays in the week without teeth, which, as our readers know, is avery bad sign. Linares, the only defender of the hapless doctor,has long been at rest in Paco cemetery, the victim of dysentery andthe harsh treatment of his cousin-in-law.

  The victorious alferez returned to Spain a major, leaving hisamiable spouse in her flannel camisa, the color of which is nowindescribable. The poor Ariadne, finding herself thus abandoned,also devoted herself, as did the daughter of Minos, to the cult ofBacchus and the cultivation of tobacco; she drinks and smokes withsuch fury that now not only the girls but even the old women andlittle children fear her.

  Probably our acquaintances of the town of San Diego are still alive,if they did not perish in the explosion of the steamer "_Lipa_," whichwas making a trip to the province. Since no one bothered himself tolearn who the unfortunates were that perished in that catastrophe or towhom belonged the legs and arms left neglected on Convalescence Islandand the banks of the river, we have no idea whether any acquaintanceof our readers was among them or not. Along with the government andthe press at the time, we are satisfied with the information thatthe only friar who was on the steamer was saved, and we do not askfor more. The principal thing for us is the existence of the virtuouspriests, whose reign in the Philippines may God conserve for the goodof our souls. [174]

  Of Maria Clara nothing more is known except that the sepulcher seemsto guard her in its bosom. We have asked several persons of greatinfluence in the holy nunnery of St. Clara, but no one has beenwilling to tell us a single word, not even the talkative devoteeswho receive the famous fried chicken-livers and the even more famoussauce known as that "of the nuns," prepared by the intelligent cookof the Virgins of the Lord.

  Nevertheless: On a night in September the hurricane raged overManila, lashing the buildings with its gigantic wings. The thundercrashed continuously. Lightning flashes momentarily revealed the havocwrought by the blast and threw the inhabitants into wild terror. Therain fell in torrents. Each flash of the forked lightning showed apiece of roofing or a window-blind flying through the air to fallwith a horrible crash. Not a person or a carriage moved through thestreets. When the hoarse reverberations of the thunder, a hundredtimes re-echoed, lost themselves in the distance, there was heardthe soughing of the wind as it drove the raindrops with a continuoustick-tack against the concha-panes of the closed windows.

  Two patrolmen sheltered themselves under the eaves of a building nearthe nunnery, one a private and the other a _distinguido_.

  "What's the use of our staying here?" said the private.

  "No one is moving about the streets. We ought to get into a house. My_querida_ lives in Calle Arzobispo."

  "From here over there is quite a distance and we'll get wet," answeredthe _distinguido_.

  "What does that matter just so the lightning doesn't strike us?"

  "Bah, don't worry! The nuns surely have a lightningrod to protectthem."

  "Yes," observed the private, "but of what use is it when the nightis so dark?"

  As he said this he looked upward to stare into the darkness. Atthat moment a prolonged streak of lightning flashed, followed by aterrific roar.

  "_Naku! Susmariosep!_" exclaimed the private, crossing himself andcatching hold of his companion. "Let's get away from here."

  "What's happened?"

  "Come, come away from here," he repeated with his teeth rattlingfrom fear.

  "What have you seen?"

  "A specter!" he murmured, trembling with fright.

  "A specter?"

  "On the roof there. It must be the nun who practises magic duringthe night."

  The _distinguido_ thrust his head out to look, just as a flash oflightning furrowed the heavens with a vein of fire and sent a horriblecrash earthwards. "_Jesus!_" he exclaimed, also crossing himself.

  In the brilliant glare of the celestial light he had seen a whitefigure standing almost on the ridge of the roof with arms and faceraised toward the sky as if praying to it. The heavens responded withlightning and thunderbolts!

  As the sound of the thunder rolled away a sad plaint was heard.

  "That's not the wind, it's the specter," murmured the private, as ifin response to the pressure of his companion's hand.

  "Ay! Ay!" came through the air, rising above the noise of the rain,nor could the whistling wind drown that sweet and mournful voicecharged with affliction.

  Again the lightning flashed with dazzling intensity.

  "No, it's not a specter!" exclaimed the _distinguido_.

  "I've seen her before. She's beautiful, like the Virgin! Let's getaway from here and report it."

  The private did not wait for him to repeat the invitation, and bothdisappeared.

  Who was moaning in the middle of the night in spite of the wind andrain and storm? Who was the timid maiden, the bride of Christ, whodefied the unchained elements and chose such a fearful night under theopen sky to breathe forth from so perilous a height her complaintsto God? Had the Lord abandoned his altar in the nunnery so that Heno longer heard her supplications? Did its arches perhaps prevent thelongings of the soul from rising up to the throne of the Most Merciful?

  The tempest raged furiously nearly the whole night, nor did a singlestar shine through the darkness. The despairing plaints continued tomingle with the soughing of the wind, but they found Nature and manalike deaf; God had hidden himself and heard not.

&
nbsp; On the following day, after the dark clouds had cleared away and thesun shone again brightly in the limpid sky, there stopped at the doorof the nunnery of St. Clara a carriage, from which alighted a manwho made himself known as a representative of the authorities. Heasked to be allowed to speak immediately with the abbess and to seeall the nuns.

  It is said that one of these, who appeared in a gown all wet and torn,with tears and tales of horror begged the man's protection againstthe outrages of hypocrisy. It is also said that she was very beautifuland had the most lovely and expressive eyes that were ever seen.

  The representative of the authorities did not accede to her request,but, after talking with the abbess, left her there in spite of hertears and pleadings. The youthful nun saw the door close behind himas a condemned person might look upon the portals of Heaven closingagainst him, if ever Heaven should come to be as cruel and unfeelingas men are. The abbess said that she was a madwoman. The man maynot have known that there is in Manila a home for the demented;or perhaps he looked upon the nunnery itself as an insane asylum,although it is claimed that he was quite ignorant, especially in amatter of deciding whether a person is of sound mind.

  It is also reported that General J---- thought otherwise, when thematter reached his ears. He wished to protect the madwoman and askedfor her. But this time no beautiful and unprotected maiden appeared,nor would the abbess permit a visit to the cloister, forbidding itin the name of Religion and the Holy Statutes. Nothing more was saidof the affair, nor of the ill-starred Maria Clara.