lands. Who
will fall and be buried in the moldering ruins?"

The old man paused. Noticing that Don Filipo was gazing at him
thoughtfully, he said with a smile, "I can almost guess what you
are thinking."

"Really?"

"You are thinking of how easily I may be mistaken," was the answer
with a sad smile. "Today I am feverish, and I am not infallible: _homo
sum et nihil humani a me alienum puto_, [141] said Terence, and if
at any time one is allowed to dream, why not dream pleasantly in the
last hours of life? And after all, I have lived only in dreams! You
are right, it is a dream! Our youths think only of love affairs and
dissipations; they expend more time and work harder to deceive and
dishonor a maiden than in thinking about the welfare of their country;
our women, in order to care for the house and family of God, neglect
their own: our men are active only in vice and heroic only in shame;
childhood develops amid ignorance and routine, youth lives its best
years without ideals, and a sterile manhood serves only as an example
for corrupting youth. Gladly do I die! _Claudite iam rivos, pueri!_"
[142]

"Don't you want some medicine?" asked Don Filipo in order to change
the course of the conversation, which had darkened the old man's face.

"The dying need no medicines; you who remain need them. Tell Don
Crisostomo to come and see me tomorrow, for I have some important
things to say to him. In a few days I am going away. The Philippines
is in darkness!"

After a few moments more of talk, Don Filipo left the sick man's house,
grave and thoughtful.

CHAPTER LIV

Revelations

Quidquid latet, adparebit,
Nil inultum remanebit. [143]

The vesper bells are ringing, and at the holy sound all pause, drop
their tasks, and uncover. The laborer returning from the fields
ceases the song with which he was pacing his carabao and murmurs a
prayer, the women in the street cross themselves and move their lips
affectedly so that none may doubt their piety, a man stops caressing
his game-cock and recites the angelus to bring better luck, while
inside the houses they pray aloud. Every sound but that of the Ave
Maria dies away, becomes hushed.

Nevertheless, the curate, without his hat, rushes across the street,
to the scandalizing of many old women, and, greater scandal still,
directs his steps toward the house of the alferez. The devout women
then think it time to cease the movement of their lips in