Noli Me Tangere/III: The Dinner

Appearances

• Crisóstomo Ibarra
• Capitán Tiago (Kapitan Tiyago)
• Fray Dámaso Verdolagas (Padre Damaso)
• Doña Victorina de Espadaña (Donya Viktorina)
• Lieutenant Guevara (Tenyente Guevarra)
• Father Hernando de la Sibyla (Padre Sibyla)
• Various unnamed guests that include friars, government officials, and elite members of society

Summary

The chapter is set during a dinner by Capitán Tiago at his house in Manila. It is a grand gathering attended by various individuals from different social strata, including priests, government officials, and affluent locals. The dinner is intended to honor the return of Crisóstomo Ibarra, who just arrived from Europe after several years of studying abroad.

The chapter introduces Ibarra to the guests and highlights the conversations during the dinner. These conversations touch upon social, political, and religious issues of the time, often revealing the hypocrisy and moral decay within the upper echelons of Philippine colonial society.

Notably, Fray Damaso, a Franciscan friar, exhibits arrogance and rudeness, particularly toward Ibarra. His behavior foreshadows the tensions between them which will become significant later in the novel. Ibarra, however, remains calm and polite, even when provoked.

English Text

Jele, jele, bago quiere.

Fray Sibyla seemed to be very content as he moved along tranquilly with the look of disdain no longer playing about his thin, refined lips. He even condescended to speak to the lame doctor, De Espadaña, who answered in monosyllables only, as he was somewhat of a stutterer. The Franciscan was in a frightful humor, kicking at the chairs and even elbowing a cadet out of his way. The lieutenant was grave while the others talked vivaciously, praising the magnificence of the table. Doña Victorina, however, was just turning up her nose in disdain when she suddenly became as furious as a trampled serpent—the lieutenant had stepped on the train of her gown.

“Haven’t you any eyes?” she demanded.

“Yes, señora, two better than yours, but the fact is that I was admiring your frizzes,” retorted the rather ungallant soldier as he moved away from her.

As if from instinct the two friars both started toward the head of the table, perhaps from habit, and then, as might have been expected, the same thing happened that occurs with the competitors for a university position, who openly exalt the qualifications and superiority of their opponents, later giving to understand that just the contrary was meant, and who murmur and grumble when they do not receive the appointment.

“For you, Fray Damaso.”

“For you, Fray Sibyla.”

“An older friend of the family—confessor of the deceased lady—age, dignity, and authority—”

“Not so very old, either! On the other hand, you are the curate of the district,” replied Fray Damaso sourly, without taking his hand from the back of the chair.

“Since you command it, I obey,” concluded Fray Sibyla, disposing himself to take the seat.

“I don’t command it!” protested the Franciscan. “I don’t command it!”

Fray Sibyla was about to seat himself without paying any more attention to these protests when his eyes happened to encounter those of the lieutenant. According to clerical opinion in the Philippines, the highest secular official is inferior to a friar-cook: cedant arma togae, said Cicero in the Senate—cedant arma cottae, say the friars in the Philippines.

But Fray Sibyla was a well-bred person, so he said, “Lieutenant, here we are in the world and not in the church. The seat of honor belongs to you.” To judge from the tone of his voice, however, even in the world it really did belong to him, and the lieutenant, either to keep out of trouble or to avoid sitting between two friars, curtly declined.

None of the claimants had given a thought to their host. Ibarra noticed him watching the scene with a smile of satisfaction.

“How’s this, Don Santiago, aren’t you going to sit down with us?”

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

“Sit still, don’t get up!” said Capitan Tiago, placing his hand on the young man’s shoulder. “This fiesta is for the special purpose of giving thanks to the Virgin for your safe arrival. Oy! Bring on the tinola! I ordered tinola as you doubtless have not tasted any for so long a time.”

A large steaming tureen was brought in. The Dominican, after muttering the benedicite, to which scarcely any one knew how to respond, began to serve the contents. But whether from carelessness or other cause, Padre Damaso received a plate in which a bare neck and a tough wing of chicken floated about in a large quantity of soup amid lumps of squash, while the others were eating legs and breasts, especially Ibarra, to whose lot fell the second joints. Observing all this, the Franciscan mashed up some pieces of squash, barely tasted the soup, dropped his spoon noisily, and roughly pushed his plate away. The Dominican was very busy talking to the rubicund youth.

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

“Almost seven years.”

“Then you have probably forgotten all about it.”

“Quite the contrary. Even if my country does seem to have forgotten me, I have always thought about it.”

“How do you mean that it has forgotten you?” inquired the rubicund youth.

“I mean that it has been a year since I have received any news from here, so that I find myself a stranger who does not yet know how and when his father died.”

This statement drew a sudden exclamation from the lieutenant.

“And where were you that you didn’t telegraph?” asked Doña Victorina. “When we were married we telegraphed to the Peñinsula.”

“Señora, for the past two years I have been in the northern part of Europe, in Germany and Russian Poland.”

Doctor De Espadaña, who until now had not ventured upon any conversation, thought this a good opportunity to say something. “I—I knew in S-spain a P-pole from W-warsaw, c-called S-stadtnitzki, if I r-remember c-correctly. P-perhaps you s-saw him?” he asked timidly and almost blushingly.

“It’s very likely,” answered Ibarra in a friendly manner, “but just at this moment I don’t recall him.”

“B-but you c-couldn’t have c-confused him with any one else,” went on the Doctor, taking courage. “He was r-ruddy as gold and t-talked Spanish very b-badly.”

“Those are good clues, but unfortunately while there I talked Spanish only in a few consulates.”

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

“The language of the country served my needs, madam.”

“Do you also speak English?” inquired the Dominican, who had been in Hongkong, and who was a master of pidgin-English, that adulteration of Shakespeare’s tongue used by the sons of the Celestial Empire.

“I stayed in England a year among people who talked nothing but English.”

“Which country of Europe pleased you the most?” asked the rubicund youth.

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

“And you who seem to have traveled so much, tell us what do you consider the most notable thing that you have seen?” inquired Laruja.

Ibarra appeared to reflect. “Notable—in what way?”

“For example, in regard to the life of the people—the social, political, religious life—in general, in its essential features—as a whole.”

Ibarra paused thoughtfully before replying. “Frankly, I like everything in those people, setting aside the national pride of each one. But before visiting a country, I tried to familiarize myself with its history, its Exodus, if I may so speak, and afterwards I found everything quite natural. I have observed that the prosperity or misery of each people is in direct proportion to its liberties or its prejudices and, accordingly, to the sacrifices or the selfishness of its forefathers.”

“And haven’t you observed anything more than that?” broke in the Franciscan with a sneer. Since the beginning of the dinner he had not uttered a single word, his whole attention having been taking up, no doubt, with the food. “It wasn’t worth while to squander your fortune to learn so trifling a thing. Any schoolboy knows that.”

Ibarra was placed in an embarrassing position, and the rest looked from one to the other as if fearing a disagreeable scene. He was about to say, “The dinner is nearly over and his Reverence is now satiated,” but restrained himself and merely remarked to the others, “Gentlemen, don’t be surprised at the familiarity with which our former curate treats me. He treated me so when I was a child, and the years seem to make no difference in his Reverence. I appreciate it, too, because it recalls the days when his Reverence visited our home and honored my father’s table.”

The Dominican glanced furtively at the Franciscan, who was trembling visibly. Ibarra continued as he rose from the table: “You will now permit me to retire, since, as I have just arrived and must go away tomorrow morning, there remain some important business matters for me to attend to. The principal part of the dinner is over and I drink but little wine and seldom touch cordials. Gentlemen, all for Spain and the Philippines!” Saying this, he drained his glass, which he had not before touched. The old lieutenant silently followed his example.

“Don’t go!” whispered Capitan Tiago. “Maria Clara will be here. Isabel has gone to get her. The new curate of your town, who is a saint, is also coming.”

“I’ll call tomorrow before starting. I’ve a very important visit to make now.” With this he went away.

Meanwhile the Franciscan had recovered himself. “Do you see?” he said to the rubicund youth, at the same time flourishing his dessert spoon. “That comes from pride. They can’t stand to have the curate correct them. They even think that they are respectable persons. It’s the evil result of sending young men to Europe. The government ought to prohibit it.”

“And how about the lieutenant?” Doña Victorina chimed in upon the Franciscan, “he didn’t get the frown off his face the whole evening. He did well to leave us so old and still only a lieutenant!” The lady could not forget the allusion to her frizzes and the trampled ruffles of her gown.

That night the rubicund youth wrote down, among other things, the following title for a chapter in his Colonial Studies: “Concerning the manner in which the neck and wing of a chicken in a friar’s plate of soup may disturb the merriment of a feast.” Among his notes there appeared these observations: “In the Philippines the most unnecessary person at a dinner is he who gives it, for they are quite capable of beginning by throwing the host into the street and then everything will go on smoothly. Under present conditions it would perhaps be a good thing not to allow the Filipinos to leave the country, and even not to teach them to read.”

Filipino Text

𝐍𝐎𝐋𝐈 𝐌𝐄 𝐓𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐁𝐔𝐎𝐃 𝐊𝐀𝐁𝐀𝐍𝐀𝐓𝐀 𝟑: 𝐀𝐍𝐆 𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐔𝐍𝐀𝐍

Sa hapag-kainan, ang mga panauhin ay may kanya-kanyang kilos at nadarama na kung panonorin ay parang isang komedya.

Si Padre Sibyla na nasisiyahan ay kabaligtaran naman ni Padre Damaso na walang pakundangan kung makapagdabog at natamaan pa ang isang kadete.

Ito naman ay hindi pinansin ng Tinyente, sa halip ay masusi nitong pinagmasdan ang kulot na buhok ni Donya Victorina. Hindi niya namalayan na natapakan na niya ang kola ng saya ng Donya na ikinainis naman nito.

Samantala, ang ibang mga bisita naman ay may kanya-kanyang usapan at papuri sa masarap na handa ng Kapitan.

Dahil sa ang hapunan ay para sa pagsalubong sa binatang si Ibarra, karapat-dapat naman na siya ay maupo sa kabisera. Ang dalawang pari naman ay nagtalo kung sino ang dapat maupo sa kabilang dulo ng kabisera.

Ani Padre Damaso, si Padre Sibyla ang dapat maupo sa dulo ng kabisera dahil siya ang kura sa lugar na iyon. Bagay naman na sinalungat ni Padre Sybila dahil ayon sa kanya, si Padre Damaso ang padre kumpesor ng pamilya ni Kapitan Tiyago.

Sa kalaunan, inalok ni Padre Sybila ang upuan sa Tinyente na agad naman nitong tinanggihan. Tumanggi rin si Kapitan Tiyago ng siya namang inanyayahan ni Ibarra.

Nang ihain ang pagkain ay ‘di sinasadyang mapunta ang hindi masasarap na bahagi ng manok kay Padre Damaso. Lalo itong nag-alburoto dahil mga leeg at pakpak ang laman ng kanyang tinola. Lingid sa kaalaman ng pari, ang espesyal na tinola ay para lamang kay Ibarra.

Sa kainan ay nagbahagi ng kanyang buhay ang binata tulad ng pag-aaral nito sa Europa ng pitong taon, ang pagpunta niya sa iba’t ibang bansa at pag-aaral niya ng kasaysayan, ang pagsasalita ng iba’t ibang wika, ang ‘di nito paglimot sa kanyang bayan sa kabila ng kaunlarang namasdan sa ibang bansa, maging ang hindi pagkaka-alam sa tunay na dahilan na nangyari sa kanyang ama.

Dahil dito, nakumpirma ang hinala ng Tinyente na wala ngang alam ang binata sa nangyari sa ama nito.

Naikwento rin ni Ibarra na sa kanyang mga bansang napuntahan, iisang antas lamang ang kabuhayan, pulitika at relihiyong tinatamasa doon. Ito ay sa kadahilanang pinahihintulutan ito ng sarili nilang kalayaan at kakayanang pamahalaan ang kanilang sariling bansa.

Agad namang binatikos at ininsulto ni Padre Damaso ang binata na ayon sa kanya ay kahit paslit ay kaya itong matutunan. Dagdag pa ng pari, ang pagpunta diumano ni Ibarra sa Europa ay maliwanag na pag-aksaya ng salapi.

Magalang na tinanggap ni Ibarra ang sinabi ng pari. Binanggit na lamang ng binata ang mga ala-ala niya tungkol kay Padre Damaso na ayon sa kanya ay karaniwan nang kasalo sa kanilang hapag-kainan at malapit din na kaibigan ng kanyang ama.

Hindi na nakakibo ang pari dahil sa mga naging kaganapan sa pagitan nila ng ama ni Ibarra.

Samantala, matapos ang pagtitipon ay maagang nagpaalam si Ibarra kaya’t hindi sila nagkita ni Maria Clara, anak na dalaga ni Kapitan Tiyago. Nagpatuloy pa rin sa pag-alipusta si Padre Damaso kay Ibarra.

Ang obserbasyon ng binata noong gabing iyon ay kanya namang isinulat sa pahayagan ng Estudios Coloniales.

𝐓𝐀𝐋𝐀𝐒𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐀𝐀𝐍

Kabisera – panguluhan Kabisote – magpasaulo ng nagbabasa Kapalaluan – kayabangan Maluwalhati – maligaya Naibulalas – nasambit Nasasalamin – nakikita Pabalat-bunga – nabanggit Pautal-utal – paputol-putol Tumungga – uminom