The Reign of Greed | Page 8

certain person he is sending me to San Diego under the pretext of looking after his property, but in reality so that he may be left to smoke his opium with complete liberty."
When the student said a certain person, he really meant Padre Irene, a great friend and adviser of Capitan Tiago in his last days.
"Opium is one of the plagues of modern times," replied the capitan with the disdain and indignation of a Roman senator. "The ancients knew about it but never abused it. While the addiction to classical studies lasted--mark this well, young men--opium was used solely as a medicine; and besides, tell me who smoke it the most?--Chinamen, Chinamen who don't understand a word of Latin! Ah, if Capitan Tiago had only devoted himself to Cicero--" Here the most classical disgust painted itself on his carefully-shaven Epicurean face. Isagani regarded him with attention: that gentleman was suffering from nostalgia for antiquity.
"But to get back to this academy of Castilian," Capitan Basilio continued, "I assure you, gentlemen, that you won't materialize it."
"Yes, sir, from day to day we're expecting the permit," replied Isagani. "Padre Irene, whom you may have noticed above, and to whom we've presented a team of bays, has promised it to us. He's on his way now to confer with the General."
"That doesn't matter. Padre Sibyla is opposed to it."
"Let him oppose it! That's why he's here on the steamer, in order to--at Los Ba?os before the General."
And the student Basilio filled out his meaning by going through the pantomime of striking his fists together.
"That's understood," observed Capitan Basilio, smiling. "But even though you get the permit, where'll you get the funds?"
"We have them, sir. Each student has contributed a real."
"But what about the professors?"
"We have them: half Filipinos and half Peninsulars." [7]
"And the house?"
"Makaraig, the wealthy Makaraig, has offered one of his."
Capitan Basilio had to give in; these young men had everything arranged.
"For the rest," he said with a shrug of his shoulders, "it's not altogether bad, it's not a bad idea, and now that you can't know Latin at least you may know Castilian. Here you have another instance, namesake, of how we are going backwards. In our times we learned Latin because our books were in Latin; now you study Latin a little but have no Latin books. On the other hand, your books are in Castilian and that language is not taught--aetas parentum pejor avis tulit nos nequiores! as Horace said." With this quotation he moved away majestically, like a Roman emperor.
The youths smiled at each other. "These men of the past," remarked Isagani, "find obstacles for everything. Propose a thing to them and instead of seeing its advantages they only fix their attention on the difficulties. They want everything to come smooth and round as a billiard ball."
"He's right at home with your uncle," observed Basilio.
"They talk of past times. But listen--speaking of uncles, what does yours say about Paulita?"
Isagani blushed. "He preached me a sermon about the choosing of a wife. I answered him that there wasn't in Manila another like her--beautiful, well-bred, an orphan--"
"Very wealthy, elegant, charming, with no defect other than a ridiculous aunt," added Basilio, at which both smiled.
"In regard to the aunt, do you know that she has charged me to look for her husband?"
"Do?a Victorina? And you've promised, in order to keep your sweetheart."
"Naturally! But the fact is that her husband is actually hidden--in my uncle's house!"
Both burst into a laugh at this, while Isagani continued: "That's why my uncle, being a conscientious man, won't go on the upper deck, fearful that Do?a Victorina will ask him about Don Tiburcio. Just imagine, when Do?a Victorina learned that I was a steerage passenger she gazed at me with a disdain that--"
At that moment Simoun came down and, catching sight of the two young men, greeted Basilio in a patronizing tone: "Hello, Don Basilio, you're off for the vacation? Is the gentleman a townsman of yours?"
Basilio introduced Isagani with the remark that he was not a townsman, but that their homes were not very far apart. Isagani lived on the seashore of the opposite coast. Simoun examined him with such marked attention that he was annoyed, turned squarely around, and faced the jeweler with a provoking stare.
"Well, what is the province like?" the latter asked, turning again to Basilio.
"Why, aren't you familiar with it?"
"How the devil am I to know it when I've never set foot in it? I've been told that it's very poor and doesn't buy jewels."
"We don't buy jewels, because we don't need them," rejoined Isagani dryly, piqued in his provincial pride.
A smile played over Simoun's pallid lips. "Don't be offended, young man," he replied. "I had no bad intentions, but as I've been assured that nearly all the money is in the