MODULAR APPROACH TO

L I F E, W O R K S
OF

RIZAL
Noli Me Tangere
MODULE
61
"Noli Me Tangere," written by Jose MODULE CONTENTS
Rizal, is a powerful novel that exposes
the social, political, and religious
injustices in 19th-century Philippines
Lesson I: Plot Summary of
under Spanish rule. The novel follows
the story of Crisostomo Ibarra, a young Noli Me Tangere
Filipino who returns from Europe to find
his country oppressed and his people
suffering. Through vivid characters and Lesson II: Excerpts from Noli
gripping narrative, Rizal critiques the
corrupt Spanish authorities and the
power of the church. "Noli Me Tangere"
Me Tangere
remains a cornerstone of Philippine
literature, symbolizing the fight for • Chapter 1 A social gathering
freedom, reform, and national identity.
• Chapter 2 Crisostomo Ibarra
• Chapter 3 The Dinner

Intended Learning Outcome

At the end of Module 6, you should be able to:

a. appraise important characters in the novel and what they

TAKE THE CHALLENGE!

In this lesson, challenge yourself to:

a. appraise important characters in the novel and what they represent

ACTIVITY

Instructions:
• Create a character map for the main characters of Noli Me Tangere, such as Ibarra, Maria
Clara, Padre Damaso, and Elias. Next, outline the key events in the plot and explain how
these events relate to the themes of social injustice, corruption, and colonial oppression.
• After completing the character and plot map, write a brief summary of how the novel’s plot
illustrates the struggles of the Filipino people under Spanish rule.
• In small groups, discuss the significance of the major events in Noli Me Tangere, such as
the return of Crisostomo Ibarra to the Philippines and his subsequent conflicts with the
Spanish authorities. How do these events highlight the social problems Rizal sought to
address?

A N A LYSI S

Right now, let us try to wrap up your experiences with the activity . Let us try to answer
the following questions.

1. How does the plot of Noli Me Tangere reflect the social, political, and religious issues faced
by the Filipino people under Spanish colonial rule?

2. In what ways do the central characters in Noli Me Tangere represent the different sectors of
Filipino society during the Spanish colonial period, and how do their stories contribute to the
novel’s critique of colonialism and social inequality?
ABSTRACTION
Plot Summary of Noli Me Tangere
Juan Crisostomo Ibarra is a mestizo and a mixed-race heir of a well-
to-do clan. He is the sweetheart of Maria Clara, the unica hija of the wealthy
Don Santiago de los Santos, known to be Capitan Tiago. Ibarra endeavors for
some reform for education to improve the lives of his countrymen and to
eradicate poverty. He returns home from Europe to search for his affluent
father, Don Rafael. The old Ibarra died in prison after accidentally killing a
Spanish tax collector and has been falsely accused of other delinquencies by
Padre Damaso, a longtime parish curate of San Diego, Juan Crisostomo Ibarra's
hometown.
As the young Ibarra arrives home, Capitan Tiago, his friend, hosts a
dinner party that has been attended by prominent people from the society
which include Padre Damaso. At first the young Ibarra thought that Padre
Damaso and his father are friends. Yet, the former is surprised because the latter
humiliates him. As a response, Juan Crisostomo Ibarra holds back from being
disrespectful at the friar and leaves the party.
On his way home, a family friend, Señor Guevara, tells him how
Ibarra's father was thrown in prison and accused of heresy. He also explains that
by the time Don Rafael, Juan Crisostomo's father, was proven innocent, Don
Rafael has already died in prison. The younger Ibarra is horrified. He realizes that
Catholic friars in the Philippines has greatly increased their influence since he left
for Europe.
Juan Crisostomo tries to follow the footsteps of his father of being
openhanded philanthropist. He designs a school to help the people in his
hometown. In doing so, he is warned by the schoolmaster by telling him that
Padre Damaso intervenes with the educational system. Knowing about this,
Ibarra tells his ideas to the town officials, the religious leaders, and appears that
he wants to work with them. For this, the officials agree with him putting up a
school.
The influential town leaders, together with Crisostomo Ibarra. decide
to celebrate the new school. The church officials plan to bless the school
building (despite the fact that it is not yet complete) during San Diego's
festivities. However, on that day a certain Elias warns Juan Crisostomo that
there is a plan to kill him. Elias explained to Juan Crisostomo the details of the
plot yet he ignores them. Juan Crisostomo escapes the harm and danger that
time because of Elias' swift action. At that point, Ibarra realizes that he has
adversaries.
In that same day of celebration during dinner hosted by Ibarra, Father
Damaso arrives uninvited. During that moment, the Spanish friar insults the new
school and gives racial rudeness to Indios. He also makes negative remarks
especially about the deceased father of Juan Crisostomo. This leads to Ibarra's
enragement. He punches and pins Padre Damaso down, but before he kills the
friar, Maria Clara stops him. Ibarra is debarred for this scandalous event. Capitan
Tiago, Maria Clara's father is then enforced to break the engagement of Maria
Clara with Crisostomo. Father Salvi, who secretly loves Maria Clara and the
successor of Padre Damaso, plots with Lucas, brother of the deceased man who
meant to kill Ibarra during the blessing of the new school, to frame Ibarra.
Crisostomo is then arrested, imprisoned and found guilty.
Later in the story, Maria Clara discovers that her real father is Father
Damaso and not Capitan Tiago. She did not tell this to Ibarra to keep the family's
secret and to honor her deceased mother. However, when Ibarra escapes from
prison with the help of Elias, he finds time to talk with Maria Clara and at that
moment everything is clarified. She apologizes and explains that she gives Father
Salvi a letter for Ibarra that eventually inflicts him to jail because she is
threatened. She expresses her undying love for Ibarra and after they talk, he
says goodbye to her. When she learns about the reported death of Ibarra when
he escaped, Maria Clara enters the nunnery.
In the novel, Rizal brilliantly describes the Philippine society and
explains the type of disease that the Filipinos could not bear. He creates
memorable characters whose lives and experiences manifest the toxic effects of
religious and colonial oppression.
Characters:
Crisostomo Ibarra. He is a Filipino who studied in Europe for seven
years and the son of Don Rafael Ibarra. He is Maria Clara's sweetheart and love
interest.
Elias. He is Ibarra's mysterious friend. He is a master boater who
helps Ibarra to escape; he is also a fugitive.
Maria Clara. She is Ibarra's sweetheart and the beautiful daughter of
Capitan Tiago. She is the illegitimate daughter of Father Damaso and Pia Alba.
Father Damaso. His full name as Damaso Verdolagas; the Franciscan
friar and Maria Clara's biological father.
Don Filipo. He is a close relative of Ibarra, and a Filibuster.
Linares. He is a nephew of Don Tiburcio de Espadana. He is the
would-be fiance of Maria Clara.
Captain General (no specific name). He is the most powerful official
in the Philippines; a hater of secular priests and corrupt officials; and a friend of
Ibarra.
Captain Pablo. He is a rebel leader whose family is destroyed because
of the Spaniards.
 Tarcilo and Bruno. They are brothers, whose father is killed by the
Spaniards.
Sisa. The mother of Basilio and Crispin. She becomes insane after
losing her sons.
Basilio. The elder son of Sisa.
Crispin. The younger son of Sisa who dies after getting the
punishment from the soldiers. He receives false accusation of stealing an
amount of money.
Padre Sibyla. His full name is Hernando de la Sibyla, a Filipino friar
and is described as short and fair skinned.
Capitan Tiago. He is known in his fullname as Don Santiago de los
Santos the known father of Maria Clara but not the real one.
Padri Salvi. He is known in his full name as Bernardo Salvi. He is in
love with Maria Clara.
Pilosopo Tasyo. He is known as Don Anastasio; an older man whom
Ibarra seeks advice from. The town thinks him mad, but in actuality he is quite
wise.
The Alferez. He is the chief of the Guardia Civil and a mortal enemy of
the priests for the power in San Diego.
Don Tiburcio. He is the Spanish husband of Donya Victorina who is
limp and submissive to is wife. He also pretends to be a doctor.
Doña Victorina. She is known as Victorina de los Reyes de De
Espadaña. She is a woman who passes herself off as a Peninsular.
Doña Consolacion. She is the wife of the Alferez. She is another
woman who passes herself as a Peninsular and best remembered for her
abusive treatment of Sisa.
Pedro. He is the abusive husband of Sisa who loves cockfighting.
 APPLICATION

Direction: Answer the following questions.

1. Analyze how the plot of Noli Me Tangere exposes the social, political, and religious injustices during the Spanish
colonial period in the Philippines. Discuss the role of the main characters in highlighting these issues and how
their experiences reflect the broader struggles of the Filipino people.
2. How does the plot of Noli Me Tangere serve as a critique of the Spanish colonial system and the Catholic
Church? Explore the ways in which Jose Rizal uses the events of the novel to challenge the authority of both the
government and the Church, and the implications of this for the Filipino society of the time.
 LESSON 2 Excerpts from Noli
Me Tangere

TAKE THE CHALLENGE!

In this lesson, challenge yourself to:

a. examine the present Philippine situation through the examples mentioned in the novel.

ACTIVITY

Instructions:
• Read a selected excerpt from Noli Me Tangere, such as the scene where Crisostomo
Ibarra reflects on his return to the Philippines or the confrontation between Ibarra and
Padre Damaso.
• After reading, write a short analysis of the excerpt, focusing on its symbolism, the
character’s emotions, and how it reflects the broader themes of social injustice and
colonial oppression in the novel.
• In small groups, share your analysis of the excerpt and discuss how it connects to the
key themes of the novel. How does Rizal use these specific moments to critique
Spanish colonial rule and the power structures in Filipino society?

A N A LYSI S

Right now, let us try to wrap up your experiences with the activity . Let us try to answer
the following questions.

1. How do the excerpts from Noli Me Tangere reveal the emotional and intellectual struggles of
the characters, particularly Crisostomo Ibarra, as they confront the corrupt social systems in
the Philippines?

2. In what ways do the selected excerpts from Noli Me Tangere serve to critique the
relationship between the Filipino people and the Spanish authorities, especially in terms of
power, justice, and religion?
ABSTRACTION
Chapter 1- A Social Gathering
On the last days of October, Don Santiago de los Santos popularly
known as Capitan Tiago, gave a dinner. In spite of the fact that, contrary to his
usual custom, he had made the announcement only that afternoon, it was
already the sole topic of conversations in Binondo and adjacent districts, and
even in the Walled City, for at that time Capitan Tiago was considered one of the
most hospitable of men, and it was well known that his house, like his country,
shut its doors against nothing except commerce and all new or bold ideas. Like
an electric shock, the announcement run through the world of parasites, bores,
and hangers-on, whom God in His infinite bounty creates and so kindly
multiplies in Manila. Some looked at once for shoe-polish, others for buttons
and cravats, but all were especially concerned about how to greet the master of
the house in the most familiar tone, in order to create an atmosphere of ancient
friendship, or, if occasion should arise, to excuse a late arrival.
The dinner was held in a house on Calle Anloague, and although we
do not remember the number, we will describe it in such a way that it may still
be recognized, provided the earthquakes have not destroyed it. We do not
believe that its owner has had it torn down, for such labors are generally
entrusted to God or nature-which Powers hold the contracts also for many of
the projects of our government. It is a rather large building, in the style of many
in the country, and fronts upon the arm of the Pasig which is known to some as
the Binondo River, and which, like all the streams in Manila, plays the varied
roles of bath, sewer, laundry, fishery, means of transportation and
communication, and even drinking water if the Chinese water-carrier finds it
convenient. It is worthy of note that in the distance of nearly a mile this
important artery of the district, where traffic is most dense and movement most
deafening, can boast of only one wooden bridge, which is out of repair on one
side for six months and impassable on the other for the rest of the year, so that
during the hot season the ponies take advantage of this permanent status quo
to jump off the bridge into the water, to the great surprise of the abstracted
mortal who may be dozing inside the carriage or philosophizing upon the
progress of the age.
The house of which we are speaking is somewhat low and not exactly
correct in all its lines: whether the architect who built it was afflicted with poor
eyesight or whether the earthquakes and typhoons have twisted it out of shape,
no one can say with certainty. A wide staircase with green newels and carpeted
steps leads from the tiled entrance up to the main floor between rows of flower-
pots set upon pedestals of motley-colored and fantastically decorated Chinese
porcelain Since there are either porters nor servants who demand invitation
cards, we will go in, Oh you who reads this, whether friend or foe, if you are
attracted by the strains of the orchestra, the lights, or the suggestive rattling of
dishes, knives, and forks, and if you wish to see what such a gathering is like in
the distant Pearl of the Orient. Gladly, and for my own comfort, I should spare
you this description of the house, were it not of great importance, since we
were mortals in general are very much like tortoises: we are esteemed and
classified according to our shells; in this and still other respects the mortals of
the Philippines in particular also resemble tortoises.
If we go up the stairs, we immediately find ourselves in a spacious
hallway, called there, for some unknown reason, the caida, which tonight serves
as the dining room and at the same time affords the place for the orchestra. In
the center, a large table profusely and expensively decorated seems to be
beckon to the hanger-on with sweet promises, while it threatens the bashful
maiden, the simple dalaga, with two mortal hours in the company of strangers
whose language and conversation usually have a very restricted and special
character.
Contrasted with these terrestrial preparations are the motley
paintings on the walls representing religious matters, such as "Purgatory,"
"Hell," "The Last Judgment," "The Death of the Just, and The Death of the
Sinner."
At the back of the room, fastened in a splendid and elegant
framework, in the Rennaissance style, possibly by Arevalo, is a glass case in
which are seen the figures of two old women. The inscription on this reads: "Our
Lady of Peace and Prosperous Voyages, who is worshipped in Antipolo, visiting
in the disguise of a beggar the holy and renowned Capitana Inez, during her
sickness." While the work reveals little taste or art, yet it possesses in
compensation an extreme realism, for to judge from the yellow and bluish tints
of her face the sick woman seems to be already a decaying corpse, and the
glasses and the other objects, accompaniments of long illness, are so minutely
reproduced that even their contents may be distinguished. In looking at these
pictures, which excite the appetite and inspire gay bucolic ideas, one may
perhaps be led to think that the malicious host is well acquainted with the
characters of the majority of those who are to sit at his table and that, in order
to conceal his own way of thinking, he has hung from the ceiling costly Chinese
lanterns; bird-cages without birds; red, green, and blue globes of frosted glass;
fade air-plants; and dried and inflated fishes, which they call botetes. The view is
closed on the side of the river by curious wooden arches, half Chinese and half
European, affording glimpses of the terrace with arbors and bowers faintly
lighted by paper lanterns of many colors.
In the sala, among massive mirrors and gleaming chandeliers, the guests are
assembled. Here, on a raised platform, stands a piano of great price, which
tonight has the additional virtue of not being played upon. Here, hanging on the
wall, is an oil-painting of a handsome man in full dress, rigid, erect, straight as
the tasseled cane he holds in his stiff, ring covered fingers-the whole seeming to
say, "Ahem! See how well dressed and how dignified I am!" The furnishings of
the room are elegant and perhaps uncomfortable and unhealthful, since the
master of the house would consider not so much the comfort and health of his
guests as his own ostentation, "A terrible thing is dysentery," he would say to
them, "but you are sitting in European chairs and that is something you don't
find every day."
This room is almost filled with people, the men being separated from
the women as in synagogues and catholic churches. The women consist of a
number of Filipino and Spanish maidens, who, when they open their mouths to
yawn, instantly cover them with their fans and who murmur only a few words to
each other, any conversation ventured upon dying out in monosyllables like the
sounds heard in a house at night, sounds made by the rats and lizards. It is
perhaps the different likenesses of Our Lady hanging on the walls that force
them to silence and a religious demeanor or is it that the women here are an
exception?
A cousin of Capitan Tiago, a sweet-faced old woman, who speaks
Spanish quite badly, is the only one receiving the ladies. To offer to the Spanish
ladies a plate of cigars and buyos, to extend her hand to her countrywomen to
be kissed, exactly as the friars do, -- this is the sum of her courtesy, her policy.
The poor old lady soon became bored, and taking advantage of the noise of a
plate breaking, rushed precipitately away, muttering, Jesus! Just wait, you
rascals! And failed to reappear.
The men, for their part, are making more of a stir. Some cadets in one
corner are conversing in a lively manner but in low tones, looking around now
and then to point out different persons in the room while they laugh more or
less openly among themselves. In contrast, two foreigners dressed in white are
promenading silently from one end of the room to the other with their hands
crossed behind their backs, like the bored passengers on the deck of the ship. All
the interest and the great animation proceed from a group composed of two
priests, two civilians, and a soldier who are seated around a small table on which
are seen bottles of wine and English biscuits.
The soldier, a tall, elderly lieutenant with an austere countenance-a
Duke of Alva straggling behind in the roster of the Civil guard-talks little, but in a
harsh, curt way. One of the priests, a youthful Dominican friar, handsome,
graceful, polished as the gold-mounted eyeglasses he wears, maintains a
premature gravity. He is the curate of Binondo and has been in former years a
professor in the college of San Juan de Letran, where he enjoyed the reputation
of being a consummate dialectician, so much so that in the days when the sons
of Guzman still dared to match themselves in subtleties with laymen, the able
disputant B. de Luna had never been able either to catch or to confuse him, the
distinctions made by Padre Sibyla leaving his opponent in the situation of a
fisherman who tries to catch eels with a lasso. The Dominican says little,
appearing to weigh his words.
Quite in contrast, the other priest, Franciscan, talks much and
gesticulates more. In spite of the fact that his hair is beginning to turn gray, he
seems to be preserving well his robust constitution, while his regular features,
his rather disquieting glance, his wide jaws and herculean frame give him the
appearance of a Roman noble in disguise and make us involuntarily recall one of
those three monks of whom Heine tells in his "Gods in Exile," who at the
September equinox in the Tyrol used to cross a lake at midnight and each time
place in the hand of the poor boatman a silver piece, cold as ice, which left him
full of terror. However, Padre Damaso, is not so mysterious as they were. He is
full of merriment, and if the tone of his voice is rough like that of a man who has
never had occasion to correct himself and who believes that whatever he says is
holy and above improvement, still his frank, merry laugh wipes out this
agreeable impression and even obliges us to pardon his showing to the room
bare feet and hairy legs that would make the fortune of a Mendieta in the
Quiapo fairs.
One of the civilians is a very small man with a black beard, the only
thing notable about him being his nose, which, to judge from its size, ought not
to belong to him. The other is a rubicund youth, who seems to have arrived but
recently in the country. With him the Franciscan is carrying on a lively discussion
"You'll see," the friar was saying, "when you've been here a few months you'll be
convinced of what I say. It's one thing to govern in Madrid and another to live in
the Philippines."
"But--"
"I, for example," continued Padre Damaso, raising his voice still higher
to prevent the other from speaking, "I for example, who can look back over
twenty-three years of bananas and morisqueta, know whereof I speak. Don't
come at me with theories and fine speeches, for I know the Indian. Mark well
that the moment I arrived in the country I was assigned to a toxin, small it is
true, but especially devoted to agriculture. I didn't understand Tagalog very well
then, but I was, soon confessing the women, and we understood one another
and they came to like me so well that three years later, when I was transferred
to another and larger town, made vacant by the death of the native curate, all
fell to weeping, they heaped gifts upon me, they escorted me with music--"
“But that only goes to show--"
 "Wait, wait! Don't be so hasty! My successor remained a shorter
time, and when he left he had more attendance, more tears, and more music.
Yet he had been more given to whipping and had raised the fees in the parish to
almost double."
"But you will allow me --"
"But that isn't all. I stayed in the town of San Diego twenty years and
it has been only a few months since I left it."
Here he showed signs of chagrin.
"Twenty years, no one can deny, are more than sufficient to get
acquainted with a town. San Diego has a population of six thousand souls and I
knew every inhabitant as well as if I had been his mother and wet-nurse. I knew
in which foot this one was lame, where the shoe pinched that one, who was
courting that girl, what affairs she had had and with whom, who was the real
father of the child, and so on for I was the confessor of every last one, and they
took care not to fail in their duty. Our host, Santiago, will tell you whether I am
speaking the truth, for he has a lot of land there and that was where we first
became friends, Well then, you may see what the Indian is: when I left I was
escorted by only a few old women and some of the tertiary brethren-and that
after I had been there twenty years!"
"But I don't see what that has to do with the abolition of the tobacco
monopoly," ventured the rubicund youth, taking advantage of the Franciscan's
pausing to drink a glass of sherry.
Padre Damaso was so greatly surprised that he nearly let his glass fall.
He remained for a moment staring fixedly at the young man.
"What? How's that?" he was finally able to exclaim in great
wonderment. "Is it possible that you don't see it as clear as day? Don't you see
my son, that all this proves plainly that the reforms of the ministers are
irrational?"
It was now the youth's turn to look perplexed. The lieutenant
wrinkled his eyebrows a little more and the small man nodded toward Padre
Damaso equivocally. The Dominican contented himself with almost turning his
back on the whole group.
"Do you really believe so?" the young man at length asked with great
seriousness, as he looked at the friar with curiosity.
"Do I believe so? As I believe the Gospel! The Indian is so indolent!"
"Ah pardon me for interrupting you," said the young man, lowering
his voice and drawing his chair a little closer, "but you have said something that
awakens all my interest. Does this indolence actually, naturally, exist among the
natives or is there some truth in what a foreign traveler says: that with this
indolence we excuse our own, as well as our backwardness and our colonial
system. He referred to other colonies whose inhabitants belong to the same
race-"
"Bah, jealousy! Ask Señor Laruja, who also knows this country. Ask
him if there is any equal to the ignorance and indolence of the Indian."
"It's true", affirmed the little man, who was referred to as Señor
Laruja. "In no part of the world can you find any one more indolent than the
Indian, in no part of the world"
"Nor more vicious, nor more ungrateful!"
"Nor more unmannerly!"
The rubicund youth began to glance about nervously. "Gentlemen,"
he whispered, "I believe that we are in the house of an Indian. Those young
ladies--"
"Bah, don't be so apprehensive! Santiago doesn't consider himself an
Indian and besides, he's not here. And what if he were! These are the
nonsensical ideas of the newcomers. Let a few months pass and you will change
your opinion, after you have attended a lot of fiestas and bailoehan, slept on
cots, and eaten your fill of tinola."
"Ah, is this thing you call tinola a variety of lotus which makes people
er-forgetful?"
"Nothing of the kind!" exclaimed Padre Damaso with a smile. You're
getting absurd. Tinola is a stew of chicken and squash. How long has it been
since you got here?"
"Four days," responded the youth, rather offended.
"Have you come as a government employee?"
"No sir, I've come at my own expense to study the country."
"Man, what a rare bird!" exclaimed Padre Damaso, staring at him
with curiosity. "To come at one's own expense and for such foolishness! What a
wonder! When there are so many books! And with two fingerbreadths of
forehead! Many have written books as big as that! With two fingerbreadths of
forehead!"
The Dominican here brusquely broke in upon the conversation. "Did
your Reverence, Padre Damaso, say that you had been twenty years in the town
of San Diego and that you had left it? Wasn't your Reverence satisfied with the
town?"
At this question, which was put in a very natural and almost negligent
tone, Padre Damaso suddenly lost all his merriment and stopped laughing. "No!"
he grunted dryly, and let himself back heavily against the back of his chair.
The Dominican went on in a still more indifferent tone. "It must be
painful to leave a town where one has been for twenty years and which he
knows as well as the clothes he wears. I certainly was sorry to leave Camiling and
that after I had been there only a few months. But my superiors did it for the
good of the Orders for my own good."
Padre Damaso, for the first time that evening, seemed to be very
thoughtful. Suddenly he brought his fist down on the arm of his chair and with a
heavy breath exclaimed: "Either Religion is a fact or it is not! That is, either the
curates are free or they are not! The country is going to ruin, it is lost!" And
again he struck the arm of his chair.
Everybody in the sala turned toward the group with astonished looks.
The Dominican raised his head to stare at the Franciscan from under his glasses.
The two foreigners paused a moment, stared with an expression of mingled
severity and reproof, then immediately continued their promenade.
"He's in a bad humor because you haven't treated him with
deference," murmured Señor Laruja into the ear of the rubicund youth.
"What does your Reverence mean? What's the trouble?" inquired the
Dominican and the lieutenant at the same time, but in different tones.
"That's why so many calamities come! The ruling powers support
heretics against the ministers of God!" continued the Franciscan, raising his
heavy fists.
"What do you mean?" again inquired the frowning lieutenant, half
rising from his chair.
"What do I mean?" repeated Padre Damaso, raising his voice and
facing the lieutenant. "I'll tell you what I mean. I, yes I, mean to say that when a
priest throws out of his cemetery the corpse of a heretic, no one, not even the
King, himself, has any right to interfere and much less to impose any
punishment! But a little General-a little General Calamity--"
"Padre, his Excellency is the Vice-Regal Patron!" shouted the soldier,
rising to his feet.
"Excellency! Vice-Regal Patron! What of that!" retorted the
Franciscan, also rising. "In other times he would have been dragged down a
staircase as the religious orders once did with the impious Governor
Bustamante. Those were indeed the days of faith."
"I warn you that I can't permit this! His excellency represents his
Majesty the King!"
"King or rook! What difference that does make? For us there is no
King other than the legitimate--"
"Halt!" shouted the lieutenant in a threatening tone, as if he were
commanding his soldiers. "Either you withdraw what you have said or tomorrow
I will report it to his excellency!"
"Go ahead right now-go on!" was the sarcastic rejoinder of Padre
Damaso as he approached the officer with clenched fists. "Do you think that
because I wear the cloth, I'm afraid? Go now, while I can lend you my carriage!“
The dispute was taking a ludicrous turn, but fortunately the
Dominican intervened. "Gentlemen," he began in a very authoritative tone and
with the nasal twang that so well becomes the friars, "you must not confuse
things or seek for offenses where there are none. We must distinguish in the
words of Padre Damaso those of the man from those of the priests. The latter,
as such, per se, can never give offense, because they spring from absolute truth,
while in those of the man there is secondary distinction to be made: those which
he utters ab irato, those which he utters ex ore, but not in corde, and those
which he does utter in corde. These last are the only ones that can really offend,
and only according to whether they pre-existed as a motive in mente, or arouse
solely per accidents in the heat of the discussion, if there really exist--"
"But I, by accidents and for my own part, understand his motives,
Padre Sibyla," broke in the old soldier, who saw himself about to be entangled in
so many distinctions that he feared lest he might still be held to blame. "I
understand the motives about which your Reverence is going to make
distinctions. During the absence of Padre Damaso from San Diego, his coadjutor
buried the body of an extremely worthy individual-yes sir, extremely worthy, for
I had had dealings with him many times and had been entertained in his house.
What if he never went to confession, what does that matter? Neither do I go to
confession! But to say that he committed suicide is a lie, a slander! A man such
as he was, who has a son upon whom he centers his affection and hopes, a man
who has faith in God, who recognizes his duties to society, a just and an
honorable man, does not commit suicide.. This much I will say and will refrain
from expressing the rest of my thoughts here, so please your Reverence."
Then, turning his back from the Franciscan, he went on: "Now then,
this priest on his return to the town, after maltreating the poor coadjutor, had
the corpse dug up and taken away from the cemetery to be buried I don't know
where. The people of San Diego were cowardly enough not to protest, although
it is true that few knew of the outrage. The dead man had no relatives there and
his only son was in Europe. But his Excellency learned of the affair as he is an
upright man asked for some punishment and Padre Damaso was transferred to a
better town. That's all there is to it. Now your Reverence can make your
distinctions."
So saying, he withdrew from the group.
"I'm sorry that I inadvertently brought up so delicate a subject," said
Padre Sibyla sadly. But after all, if there has been a gain in the change of towns-
"How is there be a gain? And what of all the things that are lost in
moving, the letters, and the - and everything that is mislaid?" interrupted Padre
Damaso, stammering in the vain effort to control his anger.
Little by little the party resumed its former tranquility. Other guests
had come in, among them a lame old Spaniard of mild and inoffensive aspect
leaning on the arm of an elderly Filipina, who was resplendent in frizzes and
paint and a European gown: The group welcomed them heartily, and Doctor De
Espadaña and his señora, the Doctora Doña Victorina, took their seats among
our acquaintances. Some newspaper reporters and shopkeepers greeted one
another and moved about aimlessly without knowing just what to do.
"But can you tell me, Señor Laruja, what kind of man our host is?"
inquired the rubicund youth. "I haven't been introduced to him yet."
"They say that he has gone out. I haven't seen him either."
"There's no need of introductions here," volunteered Padre Damaso.
"Santiago is made of the right stuff."
"No, he's not the man who invented gunpowder," added Laruja.
"You too Señor Laruja," exclaimed Doña Victorina in mild reproach, as
she fanned herself. "How could the poor man invent gunpowder if, as is said, the
Chinese invented it centuries ago?"
"The Chinese! Are you crazy?" cried Padre Damaso. "Out with you! A
Franciscan, one of my Order, Padre What-do-you-call-him Savalls, invented it in
the ah seventh century!"
"A Franciscan? Well, he must have been a missionary in China, that
Padre Savalls," replied the lady, who did not thus easily part from her beliefs.
"Schwartz, perhaps you mean, señora," said Padre Sibyla, without
looking at her.
"I don't know. Padre Damaso said a Franciscan and I was only
repeating."
"Well, Savalls or Chevas, what does it matter? The difference of a
letter doesn't make him a China man," replied the Franciscan in bad humor.
"And in the fourteenth century, not the seventh," added the
Dominican in a tone of correction, as if to mortify the pride of the other friar.
 "Well, neither does a century more or less make him a Dominican."
"Don't get angry, your Reverence," admonished Padre Sibyla, smiling.
"So much the better that he did invent it so as to save his brethren the trouble."
"And did you say, Padre Sibyla, that it was in the fourteenth century?"
asked Doña Victorina with great interest. "Was that before or after Christ?"
Fortunately for the individual questioned, two persons entered the
room.
Chapter 2 Crisostomo Ibarra
It was not two beautiful and well-gowned young women that
attracted the attention of all, even including Padre Sibyla, nor was it his
Excellency the Captain-General with his staff, that the lieutenant should start
from his abstraction and take a couple of steps forward, or that Padre Damaso
should look as if turned to stone; it was simply the original of the oil-painting
leading by the hand a young man dressed in deep mourning.
"Good evening, gentlemen! Good evening, Padre!" were the
greetings of Capitan Tiago as he kissed the hands of the priests, who forgot to
bestow upon him their benediction. The Dominican had taken off his glasses to
stare at the newly arrived youth, while Padre Damaso was pale and unnaturally
wide-eyed.
"I have the honor of presenting to you Don Crisostomo Ibarra, the
son of my deceased friend," went on Capitan Tiago. "The young gentleman has
just arrived from Europe and I went to meet him."
At the mention of the name, exclamations were heard. The lieutenant
forgot to pay his respects to his host and approached the young man, looking
him over from head to foot. The young man himself at that moment was
exchanging the conventional greetings with all in the group, nor did there seem
to be anything extraordinary about him except his mourning garments in the
center of that brilliantly lighted room. Yet in spite of them his remarkable
stature, his features, and his movements breathed forth an air of healthy
youthfulness in which both body and mind had equally developed. There might
have been noticed in his frank, pleasant face some faint traces of Spanish blood
showing through a beautiful brown color, slightly flushed at the cheeks as a
result perhaps of his residence in cold countries.
"What!" he exclaimed with joyful surprise, "the curate of my native
town! Padre Damaso, my father's intimate friend!"
Every look in the room was directed toward the Franciscan, who
made no movement.
"Pardon me, perhaps I'm mistaken," added Ibarra, embarrassed.
"You are not mistaken," the friar was at last able to articulate in a
changed voice, "but your father was never an intimate friend of mine."
Ibarra slowly withdrew his extended hand, looking greatly surprised,
and turned to encounter the gloomy gaze of the lieutenant fixed on him.
"Young man, are you the son of Don Rafael Ibarra?" he asked.
The youth bowed. Padre Damaso partly rose in his chair and stared
fixedly at the lieutenant.
"Welcome back to your country! And may you be happier in it than
your father was!" exclaimed the officer in a trembling voice. "I knew him well
and can say that he was one of the worthiest and most honorable men in the
Philippines."
"Sir," replied Ibarra, deeply moved, "the praise you bestow upon my
father removes my doubts about the manner of his death, of which I, his son, am
yet ignorant."
The eyes of the old soldier filled with tears and turning away hastily
he withdrew. The young man thus found himself lone in the center of the room.
His host having disappeared, he saw no one who might introduce him to the
young ladies, many of whom were watching him with interest. After a few
moments of hesitation, he started toward them in a simple and natural manner.
"Allow me," he said, "to overstep the rules of strict etiquette. It has
been seven years since I have been in my own country and upon returning to it, I
cannot suppress my admiration and refrain from paying my respects to its most
precious ornaments, the ladies."
But as none of them ventured a reply, he found himself obliged to
retire. He then turned toward a group of men who, upon seeing him approach,
arranged themselves in a semicircle.
"Gentlemen," he addressed them, "it is a custom in Germany, when a
stranger finds himself at a function and there is no one to introduce him to those
present, that he gives his name and so introduce himself. Allow me to adopt this
usage here, not to introduce foreign customs when our own are so beautiful,
but because I find myself driven to it by necessity. I have already paid my
respects to the skies and to the ladies of my native land; now I wish to greet its
citizens, my fellow countrymen. Gentlemen, my name is Juan Crisostomo Ibarra
y Magsalin."
The others gave their names, more or less obscure, and unimportant
here.
"My name is A ----," said one youth dryly, as he made a slight bow.
"Then I have the honor of addressing the poet whose works have
done so much to keep up my enthusiasm for my native land. It is said that you
do not write any more, but I could not learn the reason."
"The reason? Because one does not seek inspiration in order to
debate himself and lie. One writer has been imprisoned for having put a very
obvious truth into verse. They may have called me a poet but they sha'n't call
me a fool."
"And may I enquire what that truth was?"
"He said that the lion's son is also a lion. He came very near to being
exiled for it," replied the strange youth, moving away from the group.
A man with a smiling face, dressed in the fashion of the natives of the
country, with diamond studs in his shirt-bosom came up at that moment almost
running. He went directly to Ibarra and grasped his hand, saying, "Señor Ibarra,
I've been eager to make your acquaintance. Capitan Tiago is a friend of mine and
I knew your respected father. I am known as Capitan Tinong and live in Tondo,
where you will always be welcome. I hope that you will honor me with a visit.
Come and dine with us tomorrow." He smiled and rubbed his hands.
"Thank you," replied Ibarra, warmly, charmed with such amiability,
"but tomorrow morning I must leave for San Diego."
"How unfortunate! Then it will be in your return."
"Dinner is served!" announced a waiter from the café La Campana,
and the guests began to file out toward the table, the women, especially the
Filipinas, with great hesitation.
Chapter 3- The Dinner
Padre 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 trampled serpent-the
lieutenant had stepped on the train of her gown.
 "But, don't you have 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 Padre Damaso."
"For you Padre 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 Padre Damaso sourly without taking his hand from the back of
the chair.
"Since you command it, I obey," concluded Padre Sibyla, disposing
himself to take the seat.
"I don't command it!" protested the Franciscan. "I don't command it!"
Padre 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 Padre Sibyla was a well-breed 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 not 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 Peninsula."
"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 c-confused him with anyone 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 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 worthwhile 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 faring 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: "Please permit me to retire,
since, as I have just arrived and must go away tomorrow morning, there remain
some important 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 be back here tomorrow before going. I have 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 boastfulness. 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 the 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."
 APPLICATION

Direction: Answer the following questions.

1. Analyze a key excerpt from Noli Me Tangere and discuss how it reflects the novel's critique of the Spanish
colonial government and the Catholic Church. How does this passage help develop the main themes of social
injustice, corruption, and oppression in the Philippines?
2. Select a significant excerpt from Noli Me Tangere and examine the emotional and intellectual conflict
experienced by the protagonist, Crisostomo Ibarra. How does this passage highlight the struggles of the Filipino
people under Spanish rule and Rizal’s vision for reform?