Rizal's poems [1869-1896]

REPUBLIC OF THE PHILIPPINES OFFICE OF THE PRESIDENT

JOSE RIZAL NATIONAL CENTENNIAL COMMISSION

OFFICIALS AND EMPLOYEES DIOSDADO MACAP AGAL P1'esident, R epublic of the Philippines CHA IRMAN

ALEJANDRO R . kOCES Secretary of EducaUon V ICE-C HAIRMEN

FERNANDO E . V. SISON and SANTIAGO F . DE LA CRUZ Actg. Sec?"etary of Finance

SUpre11'Le Commr..nde?"

Or路de?" of t.he Knights of Rizal ME MBE RS

MARIA KALAW-KATIGBAK Chairman, Committee on Education, Senate

SALIH UTUTALUM

Director, Bureau of Private Schools

LUIS MONTILLA Cl~ai1'man,

Chairman, Committee on 'Education, House of Rep resentatives

CARLOS P . ROMULO President, University of tIle Philippines

GERONIMA T. PECSON Chairman, Unesco Commission

JESUS E. PERPINAN

Nat ~o nal

Philippine Historical

Committee

EUFRONIO M. ALIP

r resident, Philippine National Historical Society JOSE P . BANTUG Cultural Attache, Philippine Embassy to Spain, 1953-1955

LEONCIO LOPEZ RIZAL

CARLOS QUIRINO Actg. Direc~or, Bureau of Public Libraries

BENIGNO ALDANA Director, Bureau of Public Schools

Charter Member, National Research Council

VICENTE OROSA Ex-Secretary of Public Works and Communications

EDUARDO QUISUMBING Ex-Director, National Museum

LUIS MONTILLA E xecutive D1'rect,01'

VEDASTO G. SUAREZ Assistant Director' and Sec1'eta?'V COMMITTEE ON PUBLICATIONS

LEONCIO LOPEZ RIZAL, Member LUIS MONTILLA, Member JOSE H. BANTUG, Member VICENTE DEL CARME ,Secretary

Publications of the

JOSE RIZAL NATIONAL CENTENNIAL COMMISSION

Volume III Book One

)HZAL'S POEMS

DMA MUSEUM tr8RAlY CENTENNIAL EDITION

f

MANILA

JOSE RIZAL NATIONAL CENTENNIAL COMMISSION

1 9 6 2

r

2831

COPYRIGHT

1962

By THE JOSE RIZAL NATIONAL GENTENNIA'L COMMISSIO .

IV

FOREWORD

The Jose Rizal National Centennial Commission is charged by law with the preparation for a fitting and dignified celebration of the First Centenary of the birth of the National Hero of the Philippines, Jose Rizal.

The objectives set for the Commission to meet include, among others, the publication of all the works of the Hero in the original languages in whic}:l they were written as well as their translations into English and the principal languages of the Philippines.

Appearing in several volumes, the greater part of the Centennial Edition consists of Centennial issues for the general diffusion of Rizal's ideas. The whole set covers the whole field of the Hero's writings, namely, reminiscences and travels, all his extant letters known to the Commission; poems and prose works, the novels Noli me tangere and EI Filibusterismo, his edition of Morga's Sucesos de las Islas Filipinas, political and historical writings, facsimiles of some of his other works and selected excerpts from his philosophical thoughts.

Besides the above e have additional volumes containing the excerpts of the writings about our hero by his contemporaries and others - Filipinos and foreigners as well as poems dedicated to him; a bibliography of his writings and published works of others about him; a Rizaliana album containing pictures, sketches, maps and other items associated with the life of the Hero.

This is the entire range of the Centennial Edition which the Jose Rizal National Centennial Commission takes pleasure to present to the reading public - to know from his own works who Jose Rizal really was, and to evaluate and appreciate his contributions to the welfare of his country and of mankind. There is no better way of paying homag'e to the memory of Rizal, aside from the cultural buildings to be constructed in his honor, than to collect all his works and those about him by others, and prepare them for easy understanding of the people for whose cause he chose to die.

JOSE E. ROMERO (Secretary of Education) As Chairman v

TRANSLATOR'S NOTE

A lecture in Spanish on Rizal's poems delivered in 1935 at the University of the Philippines by Mr. Arsenio P. Dizon, then professor of Spanish and now Justice of the Supreme Court of the Philippines, translated into English by this translator, serves as an introduction to this volume of the English version of Rizal's poems.

The lecture is a comprehensive survey of Rizal's poetical compositions, as well, as a felicitous appreciation of his genius as a poet, for Rizal was pre-eminently a poet, a romantic poet.

In translating Rizal's poems, this translator has attempted to ascertain first the author's exact meaning and then to express it precisely and lucidly with as close adherence. to the vocabulary and syntax of the original as English idiom allows. It is the hope of the translator that the reader will take this work as a help to the understanding and appreciation of Rizal's poems and not a substitute for them.

The brief introductory notes at the beginning of each poem, as well as the footnotes, unless otherwise stated, are by the translator.

In the appendix are four short poems, often ascribed to Rizal, but whose authorship remains disputed.

The translator wishes to acknowledge the valuable assistance rendered by Mr. Isidro Escare Abeto, author of prize-winning poems both in English and in his native tongue, Hiligaynon.

, ENCARNACION ALZONA

First Centenary of Rizal's Birth: Vll

19 June 1961

RIZAL AS A POET

Below is a translation from the Spanish of a lecture read by Justice Arsenio P. Dizon before the students of the College of Law of the University of the Philippines in 1935.

Written in poetic prose the author modestly says that all he will do is "to open the golden screen of his (Rizal's) spiritual mansion", confining himself to "entering the poetical garden" that is "full of flowers of celestial beauty", but approaching only those "with the most seductive fragrance." In presenting selected poems of Rizal he points out their sheer beauty and tenderness, as well as their patriotic fervor and poignancy.

The lecture is an inspired and felicitous interpretation of Rizal's poetry. Justice Dizon belongs to the gradually diminishing group of Filipino men of letters who write in the beautiful Castilian tongue thus enriching our literary heritage.

In courses in Spanish literature it is customary to cite as an example of an audacious thought what Espronceda 1 expressed in these notable verses: Stop and hearken to me, Oh Sun, I salute thee!

And ecstatic before thee, I dare to speak to thee! My fantasy, ardent like thee, Seized with anxiety to admire thee, Leads its intrepid wings to thee.

I am very much afraid that the subject of my short talk would remind many of those present of the audacity of the thought of the great poet. I am not unaware that to speak about a great man before an audience that knows and esteems him is not only a grave responsibility, but a hazardous task. But I find solace in the thought that, in the accomplishment of my task, 1 Jose de Espronceda (1808-1842) was a Spanish romantic poet, novelist, and radical politician. His poetical works especially are familiar to cultured Filipinos. (Tr.)

IX

the great love, the cordial admiration, that I myself feel toward the greatest man of our race will serve me as an efficacious shield against the dangers that surround my undertaking. The ways of honoring a great man in real and concrete form are various and multiform. Thus, when the Sacred Host is raised by consecrated hands, there are those among the faithful who become so humbled before the august presence of the Redeemer that, with the eyes of faith, they divine through that form of immaculate whiteness the presence of the Savior, and full of holy action, incline their head toward the ground and murmur a prayer; but there are also those who, for the same reason that they divine with the same faith and certainty the presence of the Savior, raise toward Him their eyes as if to look serenely at His face and feel in their souls the ineffable joy that the contemplation of what is pleasing to us brings. In this state of mind one day I raised my eyes until the high pedestal on which our love has placed orever our hero and I read his poetical works in order to impregnate my soul with their aroma that, like the soft light of our twilights, elevates and purifies our though s, speaking to us of spirituality.

A

I must tell you, however, that I do not intend to embark upon a profound, minute, and definitive criticism of Rizal's poetry, judging its value and metrical perfection in the light of the recognized canons of the art. Such a task is clearly superior to my ability, and destiny reserves it to a finer pen and more select mind than mine. I wish to announce that I will not do more than open the golden screen of his spiritual mansion, that I will confine myself to entering the poetical garden that, with singular fondness, he cultivated in the course of his life of thirty-five and a half years - a garden small indeed with regard to its physical size, but is full of flowers of celestial beauty - going near only to those which I feel are of the most seductive fragrance. In short, mine will be a work of literary popularization.

To the south of Kalamba, perhaps since the beginning of time, stands Makiling, a mountain of legends that projects its protecting shadow over the town and x

its peaceful inhabitants. Toward the north the town is cut by a river whose waters, in the rainy season, come down from the high mountains of Batangas with deafening noise, but which slide gently through its course the rest of the year. On the eastern part of the town is a "cool lake", immortalized in his novel, and towards the west are discerned the mountains of the neighboring province of Batangas, and the imagination believes it sees a little yonder a volcano that even in its tranquil days inspires or instills a vague fear in the soul. In this town, continuously open to the breezes that have kissed the high peaks, that hears day and night now the soft murmur of the water of the river, now the roar of the waves that the wind swells, our poet was born.

It has been said, and I believe with much truth, that environment, what is seen at birth. what accompanies us in the course of our first years and strikes our sensibility, influences powerfully the formation of character and the external manifestations of the spirit. It is not strange there ore that Rizal, born in a town of such characteristics, should bear in his soul a profoundly poetic sense.

First manifestation.

According to Antonio Luna, "His poetic numen was revealed when he was only eight years old with a poetical composition which was the object of admiration of the Tagalog poets of the province."

"The Embarkation"

At the age of fourteen, Rizal, then a student-boarder at the Ateneo Municipal, wrote a hymn entitled "The Embarkation" that merited public recognition. In verses of five syllables he describes to us the . departure of Magellan's caravels for the East, a voyage that resulted in the discovery of our country.2 Although possibly this composition may not have great poetic value, yet it reveals the obvious facility and mastery with which 2

That is, the Spanish discovery of our country. (Tl'.)

Xl

a boy of fourteen expresses his ideas and emotions in Spanish language and verse, which cannot fail to impress.

At about the same period he wrote, among other compositions in verse, the following: "Elcano, a Spaniard, the First to Circumnavigate the Earth", "The Battle: U rbiztondo, the Terror of J 010", "To the Child Jesus", "The Conquest of Granada", and "Memories of My Town".

"Memories of My Town"

This last one has a special interest, because it expresses a melancholy feeling that in not a few occasions pervaded the spirit of Rizal and of his fellow students.

The Ateneo student-boarders at that time and until 1921 lived under strict discipline, isolated almost completely from the world. From June to March, with the exception of two or three occasions, the students did not go out of the walls of the college, except for a stroll through some of the streets of the city, brigade by brigade and in rows of three abreast. It was not strange therefore that now and then they were assailed by a profound nostalgia that made them remember their town, its centuries-old forests, its rivers of limpid water, and its breezes loaded with the intoxicating perfume of the mountains and the sea. Thus Rizal said: When I recall the days That saw my childhood of yore Beside the verdant shore Of a murmuring lagoon; When I remember the sighs Of the breeze that on my brow Sweet and caressing did blow With coolness full of delight; When I look at the lily white Fills up with air violent And the stormy element On the sand doth meekly sleep; When sweet 'toxicating scent 路 From the flowers I inhale Which at the dawn they exhale When at us it begins to peep; XlI

I sadly recall your face, Oh precious infancy, That a mother lovingly Did succeed to embellish.

I remember a simple town, My cradle, joy and boon, Beside the cool lagoon The seat of all my wish.

Oh yes! With uncertain pace I trod your forest lands, And on your river banks A pleasant fun I found; At your rustic temple I prayed With a little boy's simple faith And your aura's flawless breath Filled my heart with joy profound.

"Education gives Luster to the Motherland"

When he was in the sixth year of the bachelor of arts course, he sang in royal octaves the benefits that "Education showers generously on peoples" in the composition entitled "Education gives Luster to the Motherland". It is possible that ripios 3 abound in it; that hyperbaton at times muddles the limpidity of the thought; it is possible that the composition may not have "the delicacy of his other com positions", as one of his biographers said; but it cannot be denied that above all these defects and the lack of delicacy and tenderness - sentiments which the innate aridity of the subject precludes - clever ideas fill the composition. Before a sun that dies in beauty at the close of the day, upon bringing to our lips a flower of intoxicating aroma, in the midst of the solitude of the countryside when already "the night has pinned her bright diamonds on the velvet of a summer sky", or before the sea that rises in surges that afterwards vanish converted into foam on the fine sand of the beach, it is easy for the soul to be moved and for the poet, replete with inspiration~ to pick up the lyre and draw from its strings tunes full of color and tenderness - of poetrv, in short.

It is not so when the environment is merely prosaic.

What I admire then is that Rizal, speaking on a single ' Ripios are words used to fill up a verse. (Tl'.)

XUl

theme which had very little of the poetic, could nevertheless say such clever as well as beautiful things in the following stanzas: Wise education, vital breath, Inspires an enchanting virtue ; She puts the Country on the lofty seat Of endless glory, of dazzling glow, And like the cool breeze at its gentl e puff, Brightens the per f umed flowers' hue ; Thus education with a wise guiding hand, A beI).efactress, exalts the human band.

Where wise education raises a throne, Vivacious youth with strength's edified, Who w.ith firm stand error subdues, And with noble ideas is glorified; It breaks immorality's neck, Contemptible crime before it is shied: It tames barbarous nations, And it makes of savages champions.

Throughout his life Rizal was a lover of education.

He considered it the benefactress and dignifier of humankind, the best guide of youth, and the most efficacious means of eradicating error and vice that degrade it. What surprising ideas in a little head of fourteen years!

"T 0 the Philippine Youth"

In 1879 when the Liceo Artistico-Literario of Manila sponsored a literary contest in prose and poetry, granting a special prize to the best work submitted by a "native" or "mestizo", Rizal, who was then taking the medical course at the University of Santo Tomas, took part in the contest, sUbmitting an ode of a truly classical flavor, in essence as well as in form, entitled "To the Philippine Youth". Its motto is in complete conformity with the central idea of the composition for it says: "Unfold, oh timid flower!" At that time, our social and educational spheres were dominated by an exclusiveness that drew its roots from the supposed superiority of the white man to the native. It cannot be gainsaid that three centuries of colonial rule have inXIV

stilled slowly and im perce ptibly into the mind of the native population a certain sense of inferiority, something like a consciousness of its own insufficiency and the idea of the greater ability of the foreigner in the art of good government and in high intellectual pursuits. That suffocating and depressing ambiance was what Rizal called "the ardent zone where dwelt the shadows". The opportunity that the Liceo offereda gesture that Rizal wished to regard as the expression of the general feeling of the Spanish colony - was the "shining crown" in the following lines: See that in the ardent zone, The Spaniard, where shadows stand, Doth offer a shining crown, With wise and merciful hand To the son of this Indian land.

Undoubtedly, the unexpected resolution of the Liceo Artistico-LiterarJ.o seemed to him a gracious gesture of rapprochement, something like a tenuous ray of hope filtering through black mists. And always avid to vindicate his race by giving samples of his own worth, he lost no time to encourage the "timid flower", "fair hope of my motherland", and the poets, singers, sculptors, and painters, natives, inciting them to "unfold", to soar to the clouds "on wings of your rich fantasy" to dissipate "man's sorrow's blight" with the sweetness of your songs, to imprint life and infuse a soul in the rock or in marble and to transfer to the snowy whiteness of the canvas the not of colors that preside at our sunsets, or the singular charm of our countrysi.des, or the majesty of our mountains and forests. And the ode concludes with a characteristic note of his being, of his whole life - gratitude. He exclaims: Oh, joyful, joyful day, For you, fair Philippines!

The Almighty blessed be Who, with loving eagerness路 Sends you luck and happiness.

A distinguished author has said with a great deal of truth that this poem "irradiates" something and notwithstanding the incorrectness of some verses, the style xv

has "power" and "passion". The incorrectness of the meter is at times of slight importance. When inspiration descends upon genius and incites him to pick up the pen to express great ideas and vehement passions dominate him, it would be unreasonable to require him to observe grammatical and metrical rules. Genius, at such a solemn moment, would not hesitate to break the old molds, to trample hallowed pragmatic sanctions that restrain the free clapping of his wings, provided he can stamp on his verses true spiritual sincerity, making them a faithful picture of what his mind has created, or of the deep emotions that have made vibrate the strings of his sensibility. And thus his poems rightly appreciated turn out more exquisite. If the artist should approach the untractable, uneven, and rustic rock that reigns supreme on the mountain peak and with his implements proceed to polish it to give it a smooth or even surface and round out its shape, he would defile a masterpiece of nature, we would say.

"Beside the Pasig"

"Beside the Pasig", a drama written by Rizal in 1880 for the Academia de Literatura Castellana of the Ateneo Municipal de Manila of which he was the president, is, it seems, the only work written by him for the stage.

Its argument is very simple and the action takes place in natural surroundings. A group of boys, waiting along the bank of the Pasig River for the passing of the Virgin of Anti polo, discuss whose offering is best. Satan, who sees Leonido separated from his companions, tempts him -like what happened to Jesus Christ on the mountain - with fabulous riches and power, and failing to attain his purpose, threatens him. The boy, or rather the Filipino people, resists his cajoleries and defies the anger of the fallen angel.

Strictly speaking, it is nothing else but a dialogue between two principal characters, so that, judged in the light of the rigid rules of the stage, it will be seen that the work is not of high quality; but in it are XVl

noticeable certain touches that redeem its "infantilism", as Retana 4 says. Thus, for example, behind the silly and puerile dispute of the little boys over the merits of their respective offerings, we see a streak of judiciousness in Candido, who tells him: Well then, don't quarrel, friends; Of value's every gift; But one thing I beg of you, That. .. with will to me you list: A banca we'll adorn With fairest decoration In it and in this stream Smoothly we shall sail on.

Flags and pennants, we shall put On it, of a thousand tints.

You'll carryall your flow'rs; You ... bring the cage; you, rockets; This one with sonorous flute, Will go while he plays Thus sailing we shall go Until the Lady we see.

You foo'l! Aren't you afraid Impious child, of my anger's pow'r?

Don't you know mine are the air You breathe, the sun, the flow'rs And the undulating stream?

At my pow'rful voice that creates From beneath the waters emerged These isles lit by the mornIsles that once were beautiful; And while faithful to my holy cult On my altar their pray'rs they raised, I saved them a thousand times From hunger, from fright, from death.

The fields everywhere abound With verdure scented sweet.

Without labor they produced Out of the merciful earth Then pure, the yellow yields; O'er the meadow wandering Are the mottled kids, the light Stag's and the cattle fat; The diligent bee Quietly made its hive, And offered to man honey sweet; The crow at rest in its nest • W. E. Retana, Spanish writer, author of the first extensive biography of Rizal, Vida y escrito s del Dr. Jo se Rizal, 512 pp., with 16 illustrations, published at Madrid, 1907 .

..

XVll

A painful, detestable Calamity augured not; This rich country then enjoyed A very happy age, That in its delight was like heav'n; And now, devoid of joy; Sadly groan beneath the pow'r Of strangers and slowly dies In the impious hands of Spain!

It is worth noting the fact that Rizal takes advantage of the right juncture to say that, before the coming of the Spaniards, our countrv had its own civilization and was happy, but once in the hands of the foreigner both treasures were lost.

And see now what persuasive force these verses carry and what most impressive image the poet creates In the last lines to bring out the smallness of man: See my pow'r and my strength?

The po~'rfnl spirits that rule O'er the universe Obey my voice: They foIl w my famous flag; Now listen to me: If humbly your new sect you abjure, And repentant you come To my altar with pleasing zeal, I'll make you happy, prosperous, And you'll have whate'er you crave; The river that flows at your feet, That along drags diamonds, pearls; The air that you breathe, Where a thousand little birds fly; Th ose plants, those flow'rs, Those houses and those yards, They'll be yours if right away Your new faith you disown; If you abhor the unpleasing name Of the One for whom this gaiety is.

But, woe to you, if obstinately You long to disobey me, For at your feet right now The earth will ope.

In its bosom burying you Just as buried in the sand is The water's little drop When the sun dries the plants.

I

XVlll

Finally I take the liberty of reading to you this fragment at the commencement of the drama, recited

by Candido: How beautiful is the morn!

Aurora with her lights Is. caressing the flow'rs Which embellish the mead.

The Pasig! Do you hear On its banks the bamboos' murmur ?

Do you hear of the little bird The cooing varied and soft?

You tell me: so much beauty, So much ornament, elegance, That with magic, Nature displays; And that quiet running stream O'er which the bancas glide, Do they not enchant and char m you With t heir language eloquent?

Don't they tell that their contentment By the pious Virgin's inspired Living; on this day With pompous magnificence?

The psychological, and even the biological, effect of this recitation on the listener or reader is surprising and marvelous. When Candido, breathing deeply and with eyes turned upward, says, "How beautiful is the morning !", it seems to us we will see soon a crowd of boys emerging behind him from the thickets near the Pasig and like everyone, upon seeing the divine glory of the skies at the break of dawn and feeling his lungs full of the wholesome and balsamic air of the meadows through which the river passes, like an endless silver snake, he cannot escape the action that Mother Nature exerts over his spirit and he feels in all his being a strange sensation of vitality and pleasure. The same thing happens to whoever hears or reads these quatrains of Rizal. Certainly no poet can aspire to greater luck, to a more singular glory, than to be able to move and thrill the soul of his readers and listeners.

Besides, I don't know why these verses remind me of those of Tenorio of Zorilla 5 that say: 5 Don Juan Tenorio a drama by Jose Zorrilla y Moral (1818-1893), Spanish poet and dramatist. (Tr.)

XIX

Isn't it true oh, angel of love, That on this bank of seclusion More sweet one breathes the air And purer shines the moon?

This breeze that wanders filled With scents in the countryside Of the flowers wild that grow On that pleasant riverside; That water clean and serene That the fisherman's bark Doth cross without any fear Who waits and sings till dark, Is it not true, my dove, That they all breathe of love?

During his sojourn in Europe, between the years 1882 and 1887, Rizal wrote various poetical compositions of distinction. One who knew him as a very young boy, Manuel Xeres y Burgos, tells us that, despite his youth, Rizal was already very judicious and that rarely did he take part in the games of his companions.

By nature he was not really a sad boy but somewhat retiring and was endowed with a delicate sensitivity.

When he realized he was far away from his native land and among strangers, the memory of so many dear beings he had left behind affected his mind in such a way that his poems written during this period are like a moan of pain, mournful lamentations of a soul that is languishing hopelessly in solitude. In the entry in his intimate diary on 31 March 1884, Rizal gives us a slight idea of the innermost recesses of his soul, saying: When they talk to me about my country, dormant remembrances are awakened in my heart. Now and then a vague melancholy takes possession of me and displays before my eyes the whole past. This happened to me often when I was a child, I experIence it also now, though rarely, but with much intensity. So many young women who could have illumined my life even for one day and nevertheless there is absolutely nothing of the kind. I'm going to become like those travelers who go through a path strewn with flowers: They passed by without touching them with the hope of finding something uncertain, and the road becomes more arid and they find themselves at last in a bare region, regretting the past. My days run swiftly and I find

xx

that I'm very old (many call me so) for my age.

I lack the gaiety of young hearts, the smiling countenance of tranquil and satisfied hearts., the animation of those who trust in their future and nonetheless I believe I haven't done anything that is not well thought of and liked. I believe I'm honest, I have no regret except perhaps having deprived myself of many pleasures. I feel that my heart has not lost its capacity to love, only I don't find anyone to love.

I have used this sentiment but little.

In the poem he dedicated to Miss Consuelo Ortiga y Perez,6 he said: Do you want to know what causes this tedium, Delirium of disgust or of sorrows?

Why so young a soul, of love I didn't sing, Why so much grief, do you want to know?

But he does not tell us the reason, for in his humility he believed that his troubles and sorrows could not interest anyone, and what is better than for them to go down to the, tomb with him? What could be the cause of his tedium? An impossible thing, an ambition, a madness, dreams of the soul, a passion perhaps ... ?

"They Ask me for Verses"

His melancholy, something like the dejection of his soul, is faithfully expressed in the first two decimas 7 of his poem entitled "Me piden versos". His lyre had long ago become mute; his Muse no longer smiles at him; his soul neither enjoys nor feels. In the third decima he recalls his departure and from his breast escapes a deep sigh for the "Motherland which is never forgotten", and says that he was a poet, because in his country: There I was taught how to sing By the birds with their constant trilling, By cascades with their murmuring chores; And along spreading shores By the sea with its noisy sw.irling.

6 The daughter of Don Pablo Ortiga y Rey, vice president of the Council of the Philippines, whose residence at Madrid was frequented

by Rizal and other Filipinos. (Tr.) 7 Decima is a Spanish stanza consisting of ten verses of eight syllables.

XXI

Rizal the patriot is revealed in the fourth decima wherein he says that the ideal,. the inspiration, that guided him to write was no other than his desire to sing the glories and the beauty of his country, and to say to the wind: Fly; and her greatness lift And forthwith make it known!

Sing it from zone to zone To the firmament from the earth!

Poet, humble patriot, and at the same time he himself a soothsayer in the stanza which says:

show~

I left her!... My native shore, A tn~e leafless and dry!

It no longer repeats the sigh Of my melodies of yore.

The vast seas I did cross o'er To change my lot was my dream, Which my madness did not seem To note that, instead of the good I sought, the路 sea with me ploughed With deat 's apparition grim.

And finally, as if the vital energies of his spirit had been exhausted after his rapid flight through the ethereal regions of memory and before the spectacle of his fatal destiny - a moral torment so great that it forced even Jesus Christ himself to exclaim: "Father, if it is possible, remove from my lips this cup" - Rizal, all anguish, as if squeezing all the nostalgic grief of his soul, says: All of my fair illusion, Love, fervor, eagerness high Over there are left 'neath the sky Of so flowery a region: Don't you ever ask for a song Of love from the stiffened heart; Because, amidst the desert Wherein I roam restlessly, I feel my soul's agony And away my numen did part.

For me the notable thing in this poem is that it is In reality a self-portrait of Rizal's soul, sketched with XXll

fidelity by a master hand. It is presented to us as good, melancholic, excitingly beautiful in the midst of a picture of depressing colors under a sky illuminated by northern lights. In it capers an extraordinary spiritual sincerity that, with the word and form as vehicle, guides us lovingly toward the inner kingdom, toward the modest ivory tower of the patriot. So that between its lines we divine - I say it poorly - we feel there runs an endless vein of melancholy and nostalgia, there floats an air of painful discouragement; but sometimes also the light of patriotism gleams and sparkles when least expected, when the air seems to us more somber, dominating and subduing everything. In short, there are in it Poetry and Patriotism, wings of the same bird, distinct and separate, but unbreakably fo rged in a common ideal. Rizal was thus: poet-patriot, patriot-poet, throughout his life - the personification of the singular consortium of these two greatnesses.

"To the Flowers of Heidelberg"

I can say that, .th the exception of some of 'lihe best stanzas of "My Last Farewell" and "My Retreat", no other poem of Rizal moves me and affects me more profoundly than the one entitled "To the Flowers of Heidelberg". Under "the frowning German sky", his exquisite sensitivity~ his nostalgic and patriotic soul, dragged him more toward romanticism. I imagine that in one of his afternoon strolls along the banks of the Neckar, he must have seen fragrant flowers sown by "the traveler on the way"; he must have inhaled their intoxicating aroma, and thus refreshed his sacred re路 membrance of his beloved land, he entrusted to them the mission of going there, saying: And 'neath her cerulean skies That keep my loves in their bow'l's, Tell them about the faith, For his native land, the pilgrim sighs!

He begs them to tell his native land with the eloquence of their mute language that his first thoughts of the day were for her and her "eternal spring"; that during xxiii

the most intense poetic hours, when the aura dandles the flowers and lulls them to sleep with her caresses, He too was murmuring Songs of romance in his native accents.

Who will not feel the blood in his veins curdle, who will not feel something oppressing his heart, upon hearing these verses: And tell about that day When I did pick you on the wayside, Amongst the ruins of the feudal castle, On the N eckar bank or woodlands shady; Relate what to you I did tell, When with great care betwixt The pages of an old book I pressed Your petals flexible.

Bring thou with you, oh flow'rs!

Love to all my amours, Peace to my country with fecund soil, To her women virtue, to her men faith, To sweet and good beings health That shelters the home holy and paternal ...

When upon t he shore you alight, The kiss on you I press Place it on the wings of the breeze That it may go with its flight And kiss all that I love, adore, and caress.

If the success of a poem is measured by the effect it produces on others; if the true greatness of a poem depends not so much on its metrical perfection but on whether or not it succeeds to interpret our longings, to voice those vague and indefinable sentiments that man feels, that agitate his soul, but that in general he is incapable of expressing, then it can be said that this poem of Rizal is great. It is the poem of the Motherland; it is the poem of Remembrance - two of the greatest loves of man on earth.

"My Retreat"

At Dapitan where Rizal was exiled about the middle of the year 1892, he built his house. 8 I quote what 8

Rizal's house was in Talisay in the jur isdiction of Dapitan. (Tr.) XXIV

Retana says about it: On the site he decided was most adequate Rizal built his house--a modest house, in the style of the country, of nipa and bamboo, with wooden posts and floor. It measured eleven and a half by ten meters, a house almost square, that served to shelter him during the day, and as time went on, he lived in it definitively and spent the time there with Miss Josephine Bracken, the Irish girl who was passionately in love with him. Besides, adjoining the house, he built a barn, also of light materials, or rather of bamboo and nipa, wooden posts and floor. (Vida y escritos del Dr. Jose Rizal, 298-299.)

At the request of his mother, some of his biographers assert, he wrote the poem entitled "My Retreat" in Alexandrine verses, exquisitely sentimental. What graceful style, what elegant description, what most natural and real beauty caper in it! Listen how he describes his lot and house: Beside the wide expanse of fine and sandy shore And at the foot of the green covered mountain, I built my hut in the grove's delightful core, To seek in the woodlanrls' tranquility serene, Repose for my mind and from my griefs refrain.

Fragile nipa is its roof, bamboo frail its floor, With rough timber its pillars and beams are made: It is true my sylvan shack is naught but poor; But in the mountain lap in dreams it is laid, Day and night the sea l~lls it and gives it serenade.

But the picture described is not exclusively that of a hospitable shore, of eternally green mountains and of a humble hut in "the lap of the eternal mountain".

Under the shadow of old trees through whose foliage are filtered tenuous rays of light I see a man who is seeking "Repose for his mind and from his griefs refrain". He has spent the morning and early afternoon partly on the field and partly in his improvised school, and now already the day is dying slowly. He wand~rs in the "pleasant woodland", he is moved by the serene quietude of the forest, and upon raising his eyes, he sees up there between the leaves that break their intimate embrace, a piece of blue sky and the glitter of a star. It is the poet who seeks solace for his bitter xxv

grief, who wants to forget the injustice of men, in the contemplation of the sublime spectacles of nature.

Hear now the solemn hymn he dedicates to solitude: The barking of dogs, the trill of winged warblers And the kalaw's9 hoarse voice are heard there only; No importunate neighbor or a vain intruder Imposes himself upon me or obstructs my way; N ear me, I have only. the forest and the sea.

Of the mysterious and unfathomable sea, of the placidly sad sea, he tells us: The sea's everything! Its dominant domain Brings to me the atoms of beings far away; Its smile, like a limpid morn, enlivens me, And when in the afternoon my hope proves vain, The he路a rt finds reflection in its melancholy.

At night it is a myst'ry! . .. Its lucid sphere Is overspread with thousands and thousands of light; A refres~ng zephyr wanders, the heavens flare, The waves in their sighs tell the soft blowing air Of stories t at were lost in the past's dark night.

Hope which, like the phoenix, is reborn with every dawn only to die in the afternoon, the serene November nights, the stars whose divine splendor glistens on the tranquil waters, the eternal idyll of the waves and the wind are described with precision and brevity in these two stanzas.

After relating in touching verses - which I am not quoting in order not to lengthen this talk - the kind of life he led in his exile, he says: Thus in my obscure retreat the days pass by, From the world where at one time I lived, torn away; For my fortune rare I admire our God on high: A lost pebble, to be clad with moss wish I To hide from all the gift I have in me.

When we see in our time men of little worth who believe themselves benefactors of the motherland; when we look around us and we see nothing but worldly 9

Tagalog name for hOl'nbill.

XXVI

vanity, ambitions, an eternal comedy of mean passions, we are confounded by the holy humility of the patriot who confesses to be "a lost pebble" with no other ambition but "To hide from all the gift I have in me". He who was worth more than anybody else, who deserved more honors and more genuine happiness than anyone else of his time, did not want to aspire for anything, because he believed himself an insignificant person. What a lesson for our vociferous and vain age!

Rizal, a sentimental man, the genuine stamp borne by the true beloved of the gods, was dominated all the time by remembrance, so that he says: I live with the mem'ries of those I have loved before, And their names by other s uttered now and then I hear: Now some are dead, others think of me no more; But, what does it matter? I live with the thoughts of yore And no one c~n wrest from me the yesteryear.

The verses of th' s com positi n that are most touching for the remembrance that they evoke are the followIng: I breathe the ama that perhaps had passed o'er The fields and rivers of my native town; Bringing back to me what to it I've confided before: The kisses and sighs of an adored being of yore, The dulcet secrets of a love first sown.

Upon seeing the same moon silv'ry as before, I feel drifting back to me the old sorrow's blight; Awakening mem'ries of love and faith I swore ...

A patio, . a terrace, a bower and the shore, Silences and sighs, the blushes of delight ...

A butterfly feeling 路thirsty of light and color, I dream of other skies and vaster strands, I left, barely a youth, my loves and native shore, And wand'ring round no doubts, no fears I bore, I spent the spring of my life in foreign lands.

And like a weary swallow, I wished later To return to the nest of my love and my parents' home, Unexpectedly roared a windstorm so severe: My wings were broken, in ruins was my dome, Trust sold to others, destruction everywhere.

XXVll

Leonor Rivera, how much Rizal loved you!

The patriot was then being persecuted. In the most violent moment of the storm Providence opened to him the serenity of a port of fair weather and rest. But the sad remembrance of a lost love, the ugly specter of forgetful friendship, the memory of beloved beings already dead, the tearful image of the unredeemed Motherland continually tortured him and drowned the enchanted voice of the pure springs of solace that secretly ran under the hard rock of his exile.

You must have noted undoubtedly that I have quoted to you almost one half of the poem. I could not do otherwise. One finds in it so many gems that one becomes giddy and for fear of leaving out one, for one does not know which to choose, he decides to take them all. It is not rich and exuberant in rhyme, but it is notable for the sonority of the verses and the torrent of cordial tenderness. The imperial grace of the Alexandrine and the inexhaustible richness of the language of Cervantes never had a better use.

As a distinguished man of letters already said - Mr. Jaime C. de Veyra - in "My Retreat" the stage and the actor are depicted wonderfully: Man and nature caper fully, and while at the same time the author's sentiments vibrate, there pass in review lightning and tempest, the sun and fields, the sea and the sky, the birds and the flowers, all in their majestic reign, all the enchanting and marvellous that man sings about and with which he identifies and unites himself.

"My Last Farewell"

And how, at last, we step on sacred ground!

To contemplate a placid sunset, to hear the last song of a dying swan, to catch with the ear the last note of a touching melody that is lost in space - these are some of the greatest pleasures that a mortal can enjoy.

The "Last Farewell" is the greatest poem of Rizal, not only because it was his last, but because it offers us the moving spectacle of a man who conquers himself.

XXVlll

Facing an unjust death to which they condemned him, his noble and Christian soul raises neither complaints nor curses, nor even ardent protests of innocence; his heart does not distill gall or rancor; he did not want undoubtedly to profane his last moments with any mean passion, but he sanctified and saturated them with love, with love for his motherland, for his own people.

It is the poet-patriot who speaks in the first stanzas -he who wants to die for country and home; he who dreams of a worthy and happy future for his people.

Everyone knows that from the sublime to the ridiculous, there is but one step; that it is in making protests of patriotism when one is most prone to say vulgar things that provoke laughter or are lost in the void. The verses of this composition do not suffer from this defect.

However, the poet-patriot speaks when he says: If over my tomb some day, you would see路 blow, A simple humble flow'r amidst thick grasses, Bring it up to your lips and kiss my soul so, And under the cold tomb. I may feel on my brovv, Warmth of your breath, a whiff of your tenderness.

Though resigned to his fate like a Christian, he is nevertheless assailed and dominated by the desire that almost borders on delirium to be in perpetual communion with his motherland and he asks, like a child, that the native land, a great and generous mother, kiss him, so that he may feel on his brow the whiff of her tenderness. Who will deny that in these verses there is a soul, that there is a heart?

And then he thinks of death! He sees a humble cross that marks his grave, and what does he ask in exchange for his sacrifice and his great love for his motherland? Kind moonlight, a sigh of the wind, a canticle of peace, a tear, a prayer that is raised piously to the heavens for his repose. What fountains of love, of meekness, of tenderness, and charity these verses disclose!

XXIX

Afterward he shivers as in his grief he sees his grave "forgotten by all". Who does not foresee oblivion? But his soul, great and generous, rebels against the weakness of the moment and having recovered his serenity: He asks, he entreats: Let it be plowed by man, with spade let it be scattered And my ashes ere to nothingness are restored, Let them turn to dust to cover your earthly space.

He did not ask to be remembered, that marble or granite immortalize his memory; he asked only that he be allowed to be converted into tiny dust of the valleys and cities, because in that way he would remain forever in his native land and with his own people. So that, as if in triumph, he exclaims: Then it doesn't matter that you should forget me: Your atmosp4ere, your skies, your vales I'll sweep; Vibrant and cl ar note to your ears I shall be: Aroma, light, liues, murmur, song, moanings deep, Constantly repea; ing the essence of the faith I keep.

Remaining are the last notes of the song of the hapless bard! I, who felt so brave in the beginning of my task; I, who could fix my gaze at the sun, I don't dare put my unworthy hands on these last chords that rend the soul, on these most noble sentiments that comprise and summarize the greatness of that soul. The last two stanzas of the poem are, I believe, for us to recite quietly like a prayer in the inviolable intimacy of the home or inside the precinct of God. Gentlemen: In this rapid excursion through the beautiful lands of poetry where our souls, avid for emotion, have seen bloom in its full glory and splendor the Red Rose of Patriotism, the Ilan-ilang 10 of Melancholy, and the divine Sampaguital l of Tenderness, I have accompanied you, not guided you. Now it is time for us to 10 Tagalog name for a tree (Canaug iul1! ocioratwn La m.) bearing very fragrant flowers.

II Philippine name for a species of very fragr ant tiny white flowers.

xxx

part! May it remain on the lips of all for a long time, if not forever, the sweetness of the Hyblean 12 honey that they have tasted this afternoon, emanated directly from the soul of the poet!

ARSENIO P. DIZON

)

12 Hybla, name of an ancient town in Sicily; famed for the honey produced in the vicinity. (Tr.)

XXXI

It

)

TABLE OF CONTENTS v Foreword ............................................. _._ ......... __ ... _.. __ . Jose E. Romero Translator's Note ..... _____ .. ____ ._ .. _.. __ ... _. ___ .._.. __ ._. __ ..... __ .. _.. _. __ ..... __ ....... __ ...... _.. vi Introduction: Rizal as a Poe t ___ .. ___ . __ ..... _.... _._ Arsenio P. Dizon ix 1 1. Our Mother Tongue ...... -.-........................ --.................. -................-.

2 2. The Child Jesus .... ____ ._ ..... ... _... __ .... _....... __ .__ ....... ____ .. -..... -...... -.-- .... -.. -.

3 3. The Embarkation ...... -..... --........... -..... -............. ---- .... --.- ......... --.- .... -.

4. The Battle: Urbiztondo, Terror of Jolo ---- ......... -................. . 5 5 . E1cano Was A Spaniard, The First to Circumnavigate The 7 Earth .__ ............ _--....... -....... -............. -- -...... -. --. -. -.... -. ---.......... -..... --6. Felicitation .. _................ ___ .............................. _................ -.......... -........ - 9 7. Intimate Alliance Between Religion and Education -__ .__ ..... _ 10 8. Education Gives Luster to th e Moth erland ____ . __ ........... _. __ .. 12 9. Memories of My Town ..... __ ._ .......... _. __ ......... _..... _............................. 15 10. Saint Eustache, Martyr ...... _..... _........... ___ ._ ......... _......................... 17 11. Captivity and Triumph ............................. _............. _.. _............ _.___ 92 12. Triumphal Entry of the Catholic Kings in Granada ..... __ . 94 13. Columbus and John II ._ ......... .............. _.......... _... _... _.......... _._........ 99 14. Great Solace in the Greatest Misfortune .. _..___ ._ ....... _. ____ ..... __ .. 101 15. Heroism ........ _......... _............ _.._............... _.............. __ ................. _____ ... _... 106 16 . To the Philippine Youth ............ _._ .............. _.... _..... .. _._._ .. ___ .. _....... 108 17 . ABD-EL-AZIS and Mohammed ..................... _.. _... _.......... __ ..... _. __ .. 110 18. To the Philipptnes ............. _.........._......... _....... _........... -................... 113 19. To the Virgin Mary _.. _.......................... _._ .. _______ .... _....................... 114 20 . Beside the Pasig .................................. _._ .. ___ ...................................... 115 21.. Birthday Greetings to the Ver Reverend Father Pablo Ramon, S.J . ........ ___ ..... ..1.. ___ ._ ..... ___ .. __ .__ .. _... ___ ....... __ ......... 132 22 . They Ask Me [or Verses ......... ___ ................. __ . ___ .______ .__ ... _........... 134 23. To Miss C. 9. y R . .................................... _......... _.... __ .... _._ ............... 137 24. Song of Maria Clara ................ _. __ . ____ .__ ._____ ._. __ ... ____ ... _... _........... _. 138 25. To the Flowers of Heidelberg .. _... _... _.. __ .___ ... ___ .. _____ . __ ............ _. __ . 139 26. Hymn to Labor ...... _... , _____ ._. ____ ...... __ .___ .. _._ .... ___ ._ ....... _... __ ._ ... _.......... 141 27. To My... ................ _....... _..... _._._._ ................................................ _... _.. 143 28. Water and Fire .............. _........ __ ... _._ ............. _....... _............................. 146 29. To Don Ricardo Carnicero ................. _.................. _....... _.... _.. __ .. 147 30. The New Year ._____ ... _.. _._. __ ....... __ ..... _. ________ .____ .__ ._ .. _... __ . ___ ._ .. ____ .__ ... __ .. 150 31. My Retreat ._ .................. _..... _... _.................. _................... _........ _... _..... 151 32. To Josephine ........ __ ...... __ .. _______ .. __ ... _...... _._ ....... _.. _... _.. _.... ____ ._ .. __ ... _.. _... 155 33. Hymn to Talisay .. ___ .. _____ .. ___ ..... _. __ ... ___ .. ____ ._ .. _... _..... _. __ .... _... _... _........ 156 34. Song of the Traveler .......... __ .... _. __ ._._._ ............ ___ ._ ............ _............ 158 35. Last Poem of Rizal ............................................................ _........... 160 36. Flower among Flowers .......... _.. _....... ___ .. _..................... _.. _. __ .... _........ 163 37. Kundiman ...._............_..................... _.......................................... ___ ... __ .. 164 38. Cervantes at Argamasilla de Alba .. ~ ............ ...................... _.... _. 165 39. To My Creator _................. _............. _........................ _... _.. _.. _._ .. _.. _..... 175 Appendix ................ _......._................................. _......... ____ ._ ....... _____ .______ ._ .... _.. 176 1. My First Inspiration ........ __ ........ __ ._. __ ....... _................ __ ... _.......... ___ _ 177 2. Goodbye to Leonor . __ .... __ ...... _.. _.. _.. _. ____ ............... _......... _._ .............. ___ . 179 3. By the Banks of the Pasig River ........ _...... ___ .. _.. _........ _. ___ .__ .... _. 180 4. Kundiman ........ -....-......... -. __ ... _.. __ ..................... _._. __ .......... _.............. __ . 181

1. OUR MOTHER TON GUE

A poem in Tagal og writte n by Rizal when he was only eight years old. Its theme is the "signi ficanc e of the mothe r tongu e."

In Diez Poesias de Rizal, a select ion made

by Vicen te de Jesus and Jacint o R. de Leon and publis hed by Manla paz Publis hing Company (1958 ), it appea rs with the title Sa Aking rnga Kabat a and A rnis cornpaneros de niiiez in the Spani sh versio n in Poesias de Rizal compiled by Jaime C. de Veyra and publis hed by the Philip pine Natio nal Libra ry in 1946. This title. "To my Fellow Children," seems to us a dedica tion.

IF truly a people dearly love The tongue to them by Heav en sent, They'll surely yearn for liberty Like a bird above in the firmament.

BECA USE by its language one can judge A town, a barrio, and kingd om; And like any other creat ed thing Every huma n being loves his freedom.

ONE who doesn 't love his native tongue, Is worse than putri d fish and a beast ; And like a truly precious thing It there fore deserves to be cherished.

THE Taga log langu age's akin to Latin, To English, Spanish, angelical tongu e; For God who knows how to look after us This language He bestowed us upo.n.

AS others, our langu age is the same With alpha bet and letters of its own, It was lost because a storm did destroy 1 On the lake the bang ka in years bygone.

'Tagal og term for canoe.

-1-

2. THE CHILD JESUS Rizal's spirituality is manifest in his various writings, as in this. exquisite octave.

Why comest thou Child-God To earth in a humble home?

Does fortune already thee scorn When hardly thou hast come?

Oh! How sad! Of Heaven King And come thee like common man!

Than Shepherd of thy flock Won't Thou rather be sovereign?

-2-

3. THE EMBARKATION This poem was written by Rizal when h e was a boarding student at the Ateneo Municipal de Manila. It is believed to have been his first poem that had the honor of being read in a public programme held at that school, a recognition of its literary merit.

One beautiful day when in the East The sun had gaily brightened, At Barrameda with rejoicing great Activitie everywhere reigned.

'Tis 'cause on the shores the caravels Would part with their sails a-swelling; And noble warriors with their swords To conquer unknown world are going.

And all is glee and all is joy, All is valor in the city.

Everywhere the husky sounds of drums Are resounding with majesty.

With big echoes thousands of salvos Makes at the ships a roaring cannon And the Spanish people proudly greet The soldiers with affection.

-3-

Farewell! They say to them, loved ones, Brave soldiers of the homeland; With glories gird our mother Spain, In the campaign in the unknown land!

As they move away to the gentle breath Of the cool wind with emotion, They all bless with a pious voice So glorious, heroic action.

And finally, the people salute The standard of Magellan That he carries on the way to the seas Where madly roars the hurricane.

-4-

4. THE BATILE URBIZTONDO, TERROR OF JOLO

This is another poem composed by the national hero when he was a student at the Ateneo Municipal de Manila. At such an early age he already showed his keen interest in history to whose study he was to devote in later years a great deal of his talent and time.

A hundred war-tried ships At the mercy of the gentle wind, Leave behind Manila bay The ruffled sea they plough.

A short while they descry The Moros of J 010 Who with pride they raise A thousand wavi' g flags.

And when the soldiers strong Had alighted on the shores And pointed all their guns Against the enemy's wall, With manly accent spoke The general: "Soldiers of mIne, Upon your valor depends The rich glory of victory.

"I would prefer to die Rather than desist from attack; To thee the country entrusts Her noble, sacred seals."

Said he; and like Notus fierce By horrid lightning hedged in In furious tern pests it sows Sad weeping and mourning around; So U rbiztondo unsubdued His soldiers following him, He spreads death everywhere With cold steel in his hand.

-5-

And like a lion in the woods He roars, engendering fear, As he looks upon the prey That with havoc he devours; So the noted fighting men With fury and frenzied fright, Approach the barricades As they give a headlong assault.

And the Castiles' lion shakes His forelock wrathfully And readies his pointed claws To spread tears everywhere.

Eight bastions, do surrender Of the Moros of J 010 To the furious rattle of Mars And Urbiztondo's assault.

Ah! Cfhey're the ones, noble Spain, Like Lepanto's heroes they are, At Pavia they're the ones Who're the thunderbolt of war.

The fire consumes and devours The castles and palaces And all the J oloans own At our soldiers fierce attack.

Perfidious Mahumat flees, Tyrannical and godless Sultan, And the warriors valorous March into J 010 as they sing.

5 December 1875

- 6-

5. ELCANO WAS A SPANIARD, THE FIRST TO CIRCUMNAVIGATE THE EARTH When Rizal was a student at the Ateneo Municipal de Manila, he showed a predilection for historical subjects for his poetic compositions. The following was one of them, bearing the date, 5 December 1875.

Where does that frail ship go That IQroudly cruises on And ploughs tne distant seas To seek the lands unknown?

Who's the brave and invincible, That from far down the West Sails on the expansive world To yonder roseate East?

Of Spain he's a heroic son, A Titan new of Pirene, Who with fury fights against, If it holds him, the hurricane.

He's Elcano who undertakes A task that enchants the world; To accomplish it he vows And its vastness him doesn't hold.

-7-

And to red-tailed eagle akin That soars high in the wind With an unequalled flight And with a movement swift, Of the blowing storm that roars, He scorns the horrible hiss; And mocks with kingly air The lightning's shattering noise.

And like a craggy rock No impetuous ocean In rage Or the fury of hurricanes Him can change or disengage; Such is the invincible Elcano, when cruising through The waves, with his Spanish ships, Their rage they might'ly subdue.

Triumphant crosses he The vast roundness of the globe With exceptional bravery He measured the extensive orb.

A thousand laurels crown Defender of Spain, your brow; And a brilliant diadem Now proudly decorates you.

Historical research since Rizal 's time has corrected the old belief that Sebastian Elcano was the first man to circumnavigate the world.

That honor is now given to Ferdinand Magellan. who reached the Philippines in 1521.

-8 -

6. FELICITATION

A poem felicitating his brother-in-law Antonino Lopez on his saint's day in 1875 when the hero was only fourteen years old, but a lready admired for his poetic talent .

IF Philomel with sonorous voice, That shows her face at the golden sun Behind the hill of mountain high Sends out her trills; WE too are filled with happiness We're greeting you and your noble saint In brotherly rhythm and tender song Dear Antonino.

FROM your sisters and ot:laer relatives Receive with love th'affectionate verse, That the gentle breath of love dictates Benign and sweet.

FROM fond Emilio and loving wife Receive sweet fondness beyond compare, And in misfortune may its sweetness soften Afflictions hard.

ALIKE the pilot who valiantly fought With the tempest in the obscure night He takes care that his bark is safe To arrive at port.

THUS, turning away from your earthly home Your eyes are directed t'ward heaven high At the One who is solace of all men Beloved Father.

AND coming from us . with tender words We greet you where e'er you celebrate Loud hurrahs, that from the bosom come Pleasantly accept.

-9-

7. INTIMATE ALLIANCE BETWEEN RELIGION AND EDUCATION Here is another poem composed when Rizal was a student at the Ateneo Munic.ipal de Manila in which the youthful poet expresses his belief in the importance of religion in the education of man.

) Alike the climbing ivy That winds its way Up the tow'ring elm, Their enchantment being the meadow green, And both are embellished While together they grow; And if the compassionate elm should fail, The ivy without its joy Would see itself with sadness die; Such is the alliance close Between Religion and Education Because of her Education attains renown; And woe to him who blind rejects The teachings wise of Religion Divine, From its pure stream wickedly flees.

- 10-

If from the splendid vine

A branch proudly grows, And its bunches sweet offers us, In the meantime that the benevolent plant To the vine shoot generous nourishment gives: Such currents crystalline Of heavenly virtue give new life To Education fulfilled, With her lights refulgent guiding her; For her sweet odor it exhales, And favors us with its savory fruits.

Without Religion man's Education Is like a ship struck by the wind That loses its rudder. in horrible fight At the noisy impulse and shaking Of the stormy, terrible Boreas Who fiercely combats her Until submerging her with pride In the depth of th' angry sea.

If from the sky the dew

Invigorates and nurtures the mead, And due to it, in beautiful spring, The flow'rs will bloom t' embroider the ground; So is Education fertilized By kind Religion with her principles That merrily she may walk toward the good With generous step And giving virtue's luxuriant flow'rs Their fragrance spread everywhere.

-11-

8. EDUCATION GIVES LUSTER TO THE MOTHERLAND

At the early age of 16 Rizal was already aware of his motherland and in his heart he felt an awakening love for her. In this poem he extols the benefits the motherland derives from an educated citizenry. The importance of education to his country would be stressed by him in his later writings.

Wise education, vital breath Inspires an enchanting virtue; She puts the Country in the lofty seat Of endless glory, of dazzling glow, .

And just as the gentle aura's puff Do brighten the perfumed flowers' hue: So education with a wise, guiding hand, A benefactress, exalts the human band.

Man's placid repose and earthly life To education he dedicates Because of her, art and science are born That, with a beautiful crown, decorate Man; and as from the high mount above The pure rivulet flows, undulates, So education beyond measure Gives the Country tranquility secure.

-12-

Where wise education raises a throne Sprightly youth are invigorated, Who with firm stand error they subdue And with noble ideas are exalted; It breaks immorality's neck, Contemptible crime before it is halted: It humbles barbarous nations And it makes of savages champions.

And like the spring that nourishes The plants, the bushes of the meads, She goes on spilling her placid wealth, And with kind eagerness she constantly feeds, The river banks through which she slips, And to beautiful nature all she concedes, So whoever procures education wise Until the height of honor may rise.

From her lips the waters crystalline Gush forth without end, of divine virtue, And prudent doctrines of her faith The forces weak of evil subdue, That break apart like the whitish waves That lash upon the motionless shoreline: And to climb the heavenly ways the people Do learn with her noble example.

In the wretched human beings' breast The living flame of good she lights The hands of criminal fierce she ties, And fill the faithful hearts with delights, Which seek her secrets beneficent And in the love for the good her breast she incites, And it's th' education noble and pure Of human life the balsam sure.

-13-

And like a rock that rises with pride In the middle of the turbulent waves When hurricane and fierce Notus roar She disregards their fury and raves, That weary of the horror great So frightened calmly off they stave; Such is one by wise education steered He holds the Country's reins unconquered.

His achievements on sapphires are engraved; The Country pays him a thousand honors; For in the noble breasts of her sons Virtue transplanted luxuriant flow'rs; And in the love of good e'er disposed Will see the lords and governors The noble people with loyal venture Christian education always procure.

And like the golden sun of the morn Whose rays resplendent shedding gold, And like fair aurora of gold and red She overspreads her colors bold; Such true education proudly gives The pleasure of virtue to young and old And she enlightens our Motherland dear As she offers endless glow and luster.

-14-

9.

MEMORIES OF MY TOWN

To Rizal Kalamba was a poetic and beautiful town, cradle of the sweet memories of his happy childhood. Wherever he was, whether in the gay cities of Europe or at Dapitan, the desolate place of his exile, he remembered tenderly his native town to which he hoped to return after his studies and travels .

..

WHEN I recall the days That saw my childhood of yore Beside the verdant shore Of a murmuring lagoon; When I remember the sighs Of the breeze that on my brow Sweet and caressing did blow With coolness full of delight; When I look at the lily white Fills up with air violent And the stormy element On the sand doth meekly sleep; When sweet 'toxicating scent From the flowers I inhale Which at the dawn they exhale When at us it begins to peep; I sadly recall your face, Oh precious infancy, That a mother lovingly Did succeed to embellish.

I remember a simple town; My cradle, joy and boon, Beside. the cool lagoon The seat of all my wish.

-15-

Oh, yes! With uncertain pace I trod your forest lands, And on your river banks A pleasant fun I found; At your rustic temple I prayed With a little boy's simple faith And your aura's flawless breath Filled my heart with joy profound.

Saw I God in the grandeur Of your woods which for centuries stand; Never did I understand In your bosom what sorrows were; While I gazed on your azure sky Neither love nor tenderness Failed me, 'cause my happiness In the heart of nature rests there.

Tender childhood, beautiful town, Rich fountain of happiness, Of harmonious melodies" That drive away my sorrow!

Return thee to my heart, Bring back my gentle hours As do the birds when the flow'rs Would again begin to blow!

But, alas, adieu! E'er watch For your peace, joy and repose, Genius of good who kindly dispose Of his blessings with amour; It's for thee my fervent pray'rs, It's for thee my constant desire Knowledge ever to acquire And may God keep your can dour !

-16-

10. SAINT EUST ACHE, MARTYR

When Rizal was a student at the Ateneo Municipal of Manila, his professor of rhetoric, Father Francisco de Paula Sanchez, S. J., gave him a Spanish prose version of Saint Eustache Martyr, which he had made from the original Italian, to be put in verse form.

Rizal worked on it diligently during the vacation months of April alld May 1876 so that he was able to hand in the finished com position on the first day of the opening of the following academic year.

The editor of Poesias de Rizal (1946), Professor Jaime C. de Veyra, states that he has not seen the Rizal MS and he supposes that it must have been destroyed in the burning of the Ateneo building in the WaIled City in 1932. The Jesuit Fathers, who owned it, however, had published it in instalments in their magazine Cultura Social in the course of the year 1916.

Following is an English version of Rizal's introduction to his versification.

Personages

Hadrian . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Emperor Eustache ......... ... ... Roman General Titus ....... .... ....... Younger Son of Eustache Flavius . ...... .. . ...... Older Son of Eustache Claudius .......... .. .. . Friend of Flavius Cornelius ....... ........ Favorite of the emperor and rival of Eustache.

MeteIlus ... . . . .. . ... .. . Friend of Eustache -17-

To the Reader

Dear Reader: It was not vanity that impelled me to put in verse

this religious and useful tragedy entitled Saint Eustache.

My only desire is to learn how to versify, to find out if I could be a child of the Muses, and to be useful to my fellow men. In this drama, here and there, you will find an inappropriate word to criticize, a verse harsh and poorly constructed, obscure expressions needing illumination, and similar defects characteristic of a new and inexperienced writer. Moreover, what can I do? My limited talent, my meager numen, and my little command of the Spanish language, for it is not my mother tongue, do not furnish me with abundant poetic speech, or rich ex ressions; because~ besides not being endowed wIth a lively imagination, I also lack good taste and I am very young -14 years going on 15.

Criticize my work, kind and indulgent reader, but not the plot. It is true that the verses are mine, the rhymes are mine, but the plot does not belong to me.

If its author, whose name I do not know, would learn that his tragedy was put precisely in rhymed verse, and consequently unworthy of the beautiful and appropriately chosen plot, be kind enough to forgive me; because beauty and ugliness when placed side by side will form a contrast in which the former will project while the latter will be humbled.

I have not put in here any thought of mine or any new idea, excepting the sixth scene of Act V, which you may preserve if it pleases you, and if, on the contrary, it displeases you, you are at liberty to reject it.

Patience, reader, I am nothing but a child, and the work of a child in general is nothing but childish, it has nothing good to offer. Moreover, I have seen a -18-

tragedy staged only once, and the only one I remember having read is Prometheus, written by Aeschylus, a Greek. Pardon my boldness if at the age of 14 I dare to write and enter the enlightened as well as delicate company of poets, orators, historians, and rhetoricians; and if you do not lay aside your just anger, be informed that I am sufficiently punished by my Ignorance.

I did not do it for presentation to the public and so that I may not be censured, no; on the contrary I wrote it in order to keep it for many years and so that all may correct me who dare to do so, for I agree with Horace who says: . . . . . Si quid olim S cripseris, in M etii descendant judiceis aurea, Et patris, et nostras; nomumque prematur in annum, M em branis intus positis. Delere lice bit Quod non edideris: nescit vox missa reveTti.

}

-19-

DEDICATION

Hail, oh, Creator of Heaven and Earth, you my dear benefactors, sweet friends of my lost childhood~ friends of my present youth, dear relatives: Peace, welfare, and health.

To you I dedicate my insignificant work; accept it as a token of my sincere and docile love; deplore with me my ignorance; have pity on my limited ability.

This is my first finished work, but perhaps incomplete.

I dedicate it to you, for I have nothing else to give you, besides my affection and my heart. I hope you will not despise it: Consider the desire of the one who dedicates it to you rather than its value. And you, my beloved professor, Father Francisco de P. Sanchez, S.J., receive my sincerest gratitude, certainly insufficient to compensate you for your efforts.

And thou, Martyr of Calv~,ry, my gentle Redeemer, accept the life of a martyr, written by thy servant for thy greater glory.

I

JOSE RIZAL Kalamba, 2 June 1876

-20-

SAINT EUSTACHE, MARTYR (Hall in Hadrian's Palace with rooms on one side)

ACT I SCENE I

CORNELIUS AND METELLUS

CO RNELIUS.

The fatal day came, dismal day, For my cruel, fierce adversaries: To fear me it is time that they learn; Enough of humiliations; has come The day of vengeance, oh Metellus; Who can remove you from my hold, From my wrath and fury? Your merry glee Into weeping sad converted I'll see.

Triumphant he approaches the walls : My rival Eustache fiercely does approach; How costly to him his vict'ry will be; Offences and evils in it I'll avenge !

METELLUS.

But, why d'you kindle hate and discord Prepare for him a thousand terrible snares Of vengeance and rancour? If from the war Victorious he comes; if gratified The Senate is of his valor and strength, Cornelius dear, his victory, Shares also. Yield, my friend, give way To his good luck and happy fate.

Hadrian was Roman emperor from 117 to 138 A. D.

-21-

CORNELIUS.

Of laurels which I ought to wear He has robbed me; noble honors adorn His proud and haughty brow; unjust Was Trajan to my valor and deaf Is holy heaven to my demands.

Of the soldiers Eustache has the command Because of my fearlessness and strength.

He ruined my hopes. Exalted the strong Walls he has to penetrate. Do you Believe I can tolerate the affront Avenging not my fame so stained?

With Titus in the wars, with Trajan At all times I was. I rendered to them My faithful services, pleasant and sweet.

I showed my valor, my fame increased In these same battles. But Eustache Preferred they in this war against The rebel Dacians and Pathians: To the Danube's bellicos banks The Romans I should lead and show My talents and my bravery, For they know my zeal many years ago.

METELLUS. With your fortune contented you should be; To your troops and valor tribute they paid, Oh Cornelius, honors they offered you.

You enjoy in peace the status rich That for your labors the king gave you.

Don't envy him then; you're Romans both And for renown you both can long ...

CORNELIUS. D' you want that triumph be not envied When mine it should be? If noble he is, More so am I, 'cause I was born A Roman; glory I'm sorry indeed to lose, The honors and renown desired.

I ought again to seek new praise To ruin my rival, the fiery Eustache; Because once ruined, of th' army men Victorious gen'ral I shall be.

-22-

METELLUS.

You can't destroy him: faithfully He served the country; adding To his rewards and merits the victory He now wins, returning to the Romans peace; Oh tell me, can you use your strength To ruin him? Deceits alone And calumny . . .

CORNELIUS.

(Interrupting him) Calumny ne'er Wish I to use to cruelly harm My enemy. But a great offense T' eclipse his merits will ruin him; And turning into gloomy night The light of his vict'ries; infamous One day he'll appear before the eyes Of the people that with honors deck his brow.

METELLUS.

What! are you thinking of finding some CrIme

Cruel, shameful, wicked in his nobility That can destroy his fortune good?

(If the crime of Scipio they forgave, The Romans then being more cruel And severe than they are now, just by Recalling his vict'ries; not only from death Was he saved, but his fault his honor became.)

CORNELIUS.

I can convert into weeping sad The glorious triumph he enjoys; But note that Romans young Are coming here. . . Metellus, keep quiet, Don't tell them, by Jove, what we talked about A while ago, and if in my plans You help, b' assured of reward for your work.

-23-

SCENE II CLAUDIUS AND FLAVIUS

CLA UDIUS.

Share ye with me the happiness, Dear friends, for from the war we come Victorious . ..

METELLUS.

Claudius, you have come?

CLA UDIUS.

To thank God, I would like, Because I see you again, and Luck Gave us fair proofs of her friendliness, By sheltering the valor of The Romans 'gainst her foes in wars.

CORNELIUS.

Oh noble Claudius! I rejoice O'er the triumph 'gainst the Dacians; our Rome Does conquer alone with her name, By presenting her unconquered eagles and flags.

Amongst the timid Parthians she spreads Ignoble fear and they flee before them.

CLA UDIUS.

What do you say? The valor, d'you doubt Of our captain the valor of our troops?

Ask him if at the name our foes (pointing to Flavius) Did flee or at the valor they showed.

FLA VIUS.

To Jove and the havoc of the sword Of our Gen'ral, is due the victory Of our eminent flagts. I saw, I saw, Cornelius, in the bitter test Of the doubtful fights the Romans Turn pale with shameful affront before The enemies cruel. Military Strength, talent, and valor did maintain The impetuous combatant. Exists No mortal who could think of how rough And bloody the fight is if being, Effeminate, he lives in pretty abodes.

-24-

CO RNELIUS.

Hadrian believes this, and to Eustache Such honor he assigns to reward Him for the rigors, anxieties, And dangers of the fight.

FLAVIUS.

All is due to the wqrlike ability, To the valor invincible and strength Of th' unconquered Gen'ral who commands, The soldiers, controls and encourages them In the combat; he destroys, strikes, and kills.

And with the left hand clutching the lance He makes the blood gush forth from tile breasts!

The dead and wounded are seen everywhere!

When h' is before the enemy troops, 0 "er the earth no such fiery fighter Mars saw, None greater, delightful combatant.

Dacians and Parthians render him obedience.

CORNELIUS.

They would pay him for his vict'ry don't fear.

CLAUDIUS.

Do you regret perchance that Eustache Deserves the gift our Hadrian would give him?

He'd give it Cornelius even to you, If you had come out victorious.

CORNELIUS.

I don't regret it, Claudius: for the gods Refused to let me leave for the war; But for Eustache to be acclaimed Here in this city, it I can't stand; I shall rather try that in the great feast Of the sacrifice to Jove Eustache Be there and an immense crowd of Rome,

-25-

And that he receive his desired reward, A compensation that his labors deserve.

I'm going to Hadrian, 'cause one is illumed By his talent. You, to Metellus Accom pany me, friend, if you wish.

SCENE III CLAUDIUS AND FLAVIUS

CLA UDIUS.

At last Flavius, in our country, w' arrive, After we'ave endured so many mishaps: A thousand anxieties during the war we bore, And complete peace we now enjoy.

While from the Danube's dismal banks We fought with constancy in the wars Against the Dacians barbarous, My gaze did turn back to our homes.

At last I see you, fortunate land!

At last with sure feet I tread on you!

The high walls also you contemplate (to Flavius) Surrounding; sovereign Rome also You'll contemplate the opulence Of the temples that altars display And holy sacrifice you'll attend, For this so complete a victory; To which with your soldiers brave you ought T' attend, their arrogance to see.

FLA VIUS.

A Roman you're and pleasantly You live in Rome where you find parents dear, Motherland, friends, servants true, and kins Who sweetly love you with soft tenderness.

-26-

I, Claudius, no, for relentless fate From my father separated me; Cruel vengeance pierced the wounded breast.

At all times my heart with intense desire Asks Heaven to return my father to me.

Hence followed I the profession of arms; In the kingdoms vast of Europe I looked For him and in the horrid wars; Because in my youth I heard him relate About fights, adversaries, death, and arms ....

CLAUDIUS.

Oh Flavius what a tender heart you have, And how exalted your soul has been, Who never forgot the author dear Of your long life and of your days!

If your father lives, perhaps he enjoys Content with loving children, sweet And pleasant fortune! Poor Flavius of mIne, Perhaps for your father you look in the wars Who has forgotten you 'lready, your name.

Your love, and has forgotten perhaps Your happy memory. Proud time Erases love from the breast, as the dawn Dissipates black shadows with its rays!

FLAVIUS.

Dear Claudius, perhaps, mistaken you are!

My heart, as time goes, can forget Perchance in adversity the one Who gave me being, nobility, and life?

His countenance, his gestures, and his face For sure I have forgotten them; But Indelibly his love in my soul -27-

Is engraved! For see, oh Claudius, see: Divine peace due to my father's love Compels me to look for him; and if I stop, with a clear voice it says: "Ingrate! For the noble father, search!

With new flame and new ardor search."

CLAUDIUS.

Your nature sweet, oh Flavius dear, Was the closest tie and holy bond That united me to you. That you May find him again was also my wish; For noble sentiments he must have Like yours; but if you don't find him, Would you search hard for him everywhere?

With the country you ought to be satisfied, Of the favor that from the troops you get, 0f the agreeable good luck and peace.

FLA VIUS.

Wi h my luc d'you want me to be atisfied When I know not the fate and paternal horne?

With a thousand bitter difficulties Oppressed, my aged father perhaps Lives working, suffering miserably!

Oh! How contented is the dear And gray haired father when he finds his son; Old age obtains his help; in the strength Of the noble and robust son and strong Wall against misfortunes. For his sake I'm resolved, oh Claudius; I will go Across the seas; I'll cross everywhere So many rivers wandering in search For the author of my days, dear life.

CLA UDIUS.

To find him, are you sure perchance?

And you have hope of embracing him?

And to his cruel fate you will leave Your faithful Claudius? And you forsake

-28-

His fraternal love? Perhaps Jove snatched Away your father so that you Reposed and happy may share my home.

Today to your faithfulness I hoped To show in the city my gratitude.

And you ungrateful without repose You 'bandon Claudius, you forsake?

And thus you're showing me your love?

The hope that confident I harbored you mock?

If we compare the faithful love That you did show your father; I love You more. But, Flavius look: Suppose That wand'ring you find him; that you he sees And does not know your lineage : How Will you know that he belongs to your race?

Wh~t m~rks can you give him? Yes; In vam You're searching for him. .. you're courting ill-luck ...

FLAVIUS.

Perhaps the gods may some day grant My tender prayer, my clamor sad, To make me happy my father to see.

I believe impossible 'tis not What you were thinking; for it's all A sigh what I told you that from him Infancy they took me away On the riverbank where he put me when To cross the muddy waters he tried.

When I had reached the bank and to see Him not being able due to the plants Of the neighboring mountains, suddenly Came furious much water that did flood The river everywhere, and I could No longer see him. Of my mishap Perhaps my unhappy father thought Either caused by hunger or by the flood!

-29-

That I must have died; but heaven itself Propitious did show; for a shepherd kind From the water a shepherd did take me inert And at once to his cabin he carried me.

There paternal and tender shelter I found.

Already vigorous I em braced The profession of arms; I eagerly pursued The Roman eagles, the flags, in the wars Of Ister and the Danube whence Victorious to your land I returned.

Here are my marks that could affirm The truth if in the field, in the fights, And in the kingdoms him I should find ...

CLAUDIUS.

Hadrian comes by this side . .. Keep quiet .. .

SCENE IV HADRIAN WITH LICTORS

HADRIAN. FLAVIUS.

Where is the Gen'ral?

He came from the war.

HADRIAN.

(Addressing Claudius) To the first room go. .. Tell him to come immediately.

FLAVIUS.

Sir, he himself Is coming here to pay you respect.

-30-

HADRIAN.

You're lucky, Claudius for you found A model of valor, strength, in Eustache !

CLAUDIUS.

His example is never seen before.

With his li'l Titus has he come now?

SCENE V EUSTACHE, TITUS AND METELLUS

(When Hadrian says, "Goodbye, Eustache . . . everybody leaves except Eustache and Titus.)

HADRIAN.

Oh noble conqueror of the rebs At last I see you, 'gain, dear Eustache!

Those Dacians who did dare to rise Despicably breaking the treaty of peace, Disturbing the Roman's tranquility, Did meet a penalty severe! Hadrian Is just and to give the glory knows To the soldier who fights for his empire, For you knew me in Jerusalem When I was still young. Through your efforts, I expected vict'ries and impressive deeds; But my expectations you surpass.

Chiefs and centurions will receive My order to follow you toward The temple, where sacrifices grand To the gods you'll offer. If Rome and th' empire Show you their gratitude, oh Eustache, For your strength and valor; but to the supreme Jove you've to be grateful for your triumph.

-31-

If the appreciation you hear from me

Is just, a greater one you will receive From the Capitol before th' authority Of th' august Senate, in my presence.

EUSTACHE.

Oh Lord, I wish not t' expect a reward For my vict'ry 'gainst the Dacians!

I ask Only, Lord, that you be satisfied With my useless serv'ces that to Rome I performed. For your favor I'm grateful to you.

For my valor and strength that so much you extol It's enough that were vanquished the Parthians fierce From Titus and Trajan the art of war I learned; and t' your noble throne I return, As they taught me~ warlike are my rewards.

SQ many honors, so much fame, I believe for my services would be too great.

But indeed the battlefield, as gift I accept where I'll fight against my foes.

I never learned this to refuse From my sovereign emperors, for I Must do it as a good soldier.

HADRIAN.

Well, look here, Eustache, I learned from the chiefs Who to the camp did follow you How your troops your virtue did extol And your military ardor no less; Neither pride nor ambition did spoil Your noble breast with their deceits; But you, the honors, must accept With which Rome reward her warriors.

See, Titus, how holy Jupiter Did give you a father whose deeds you ought To follow as a noble Roman brave?

-32-

TITUS.

To love him only, Lord, I can.

For I am still a child! When the years Concede me strength to be adept I'll try To imitate him. .. meantime I Do promise loyalty to the throne.

HADRIAN.

Metellus, go and tell the priest My royal order to execute Immediately, and prepare everything Necessary for the off'rings divine.

I grant you (to Metellus) Metellus, to rest on the way Goodbye, Eustache... Titus... goodbye, I leave you ...

SCENE VI

EUSTACHE AND TITUS SEATED

TITUS.

Oh, what inexpressible joy! What glee!

My heart impedes what I do feel.

Just for you, what pleasure great fills my soul!

EUST ACHE.

Titus, I would be Content likewise; for you 'nly I am not!

TITUS.

What are you telling me, father? I Believe that I've answered our emperor, If not as you wish, at least with respect.

EUSTACHE.

No, my consolation sweet, for pleased Was I with your boyish reply. A thought Exalted fills my mind, Titus ...

TITUS.

My God, how I fear to have angered you!

Oh! Punish, punish, father, my crime, For all I want is to please you.

-33-

EUSTACHE.

Oh listen, Titus: Forget vain names Of foes, of armies. of rewards, Of Hadrian and Rome! Invoke Jesus Christ And obediently follow his precepts.

You .promised obedience to great Hadnan; To your God you should have done it first; If you have a spirit worthy of The name of Christian. For his empire How many times did I expose My life in the past wars with fierce Adversaries of Rome; the same At certain occasions, Titus, you must do.

Now, th' Almighty calls me to a fight For the honor of his name! I can't Make th' offering to the false Jove ...

Christ Forbids us to do it; and if I protest That I'm a Christian, despising the false Jove, certain Ideath awaits me, that I Wish it, oh Titus, with joy. .. I long To observe fidelity to God! An immortal laurel He shows me with JOY And to heaven calls me with fatherly VOIce. But you, do you want to follow me?

TITUS.

Oh, father dear!

Yes, with you I wish to die; I wish To join you forever. Would you want Me to live without you in this land gloomy, sad?

Without a father, unfaithful to God, No, fear naught: there's naught No protection!

That frightens me e'en penalties rough or death.

EUSTACHE.

If they should ask you if you adore

The supreme Jove?

-34-

TITUS.

I am a Christian, I shall say, And that I detest the vile Jupiter.

EUST ACHE.

Yes; but Hadrian rich treasure will give You, thousands of rewards bestow On you, if you renounce your cult And e'en pretending Jove you adore.

TITUS.

I'll renounce them, swear.

EUSTACHE.

Oh! Perhaps you can renounce the rewards; But, if they threaten you with death?

TITUS.

The cruel knife will cut off my tender neck For martyrdom only my Christian heart Desires, and the Almighty I pray That he in his bosom receive my soul, And receive with you th' eternal reward.

EUSTACHE.

Being far away you're not afraid!

But being present when a soldier fierce Prepares you for the rough blow that Will finish you, with blind fear perhaps You will escape from the soldiers.

TITUS.

Ah! Father, I shall not escape, Believe me, I will kneel on the ground; With n:y tongue I'll say: "Oh Lord, receIve My soul, for your love and faith I die."

EUSTACHE.

Oh Titus, may Christ preserve your heart, Save you, protecting your innocence!

TITUS.

Did'nt you say that Christ encourages And strengthens the heart with eternal reward So that it can resist the infidel?

-35-

noble father,

I

EUST ACHE.

Yes, Titus, yes; to hope in God We ought to have valor, strength, constancy firm!

He promised his faithful servants to help In their noble and glorious martyrdom.

Weak and tender children, women, youths, Old men who, armed with the power, I have known, Did vanquish hardships and death, with pure faith, Like brilliant splendor of Phoebus great, That fills with fright his enemies, They saw them surrounded with light divine; Constant and mirthful these lands they left And to heaven they flew. But Titus you, Lend me your ear as you should: the gods T worship we cannot. But we Can flee, God it does not forbid; To another land, if you wish, we go Before to a danger you expose yourself.

TITUS.

But, father, why d'you always doubt My valor? If you inspire me, Oh God, With this love for you, he must be sure Of this my love. My father, alas, What to say to you I don't know anymore, I weep, pray, and offer my life to God ...

EUSTACHE.

My son!

(To heaven) Receive our life like tender gift, That since childhood gladly he offers to you.

You make me happy and soon the reward (to Titus) Of God you will receive; my hopes -36-

You fulfilled and to holy heaven you Will follow me! How joyful will be The Saints when they should come to know Your sacred oath of dying first Rather than worshipping Jove! Less is To enter Rome victoriously With captives and triumphs than go up with you To the firmament where Christ calls us, Where happy and contented we shall be !

I hope thus, father, and hasten He may Our end and up to Heaven we go.

TITUS.

(End of Act I)

ACT Il (The same decoration as in the first act.)

SCENE I CORNELIUS AND METELLUS

CORNEUUS.

See, oh Metellus, how the triumph Of Eustache was turned into his own ruin!

He is a Christian: Hadrian him condemns ' To death. His valor, victory itself.

I, friend, exaggerating, a feast Great in Rome I prepared, where on altars rich Sacrifices he would make to the gods ... !

METELLUS.

But, your life is in danger, don't you believe?

-37-

CORNELIUS.

For what reason?

METELLUS.

Converted he may be By off'ring his first fruits, and if he succeeds To save himself from death, he may Take vengeance someday on you; he may Change perhaps his religion and his life Because he can worship Jupiter Obeying Rome, though feigning it.

CORNELIUS.

Don't expect him to be won to our gods!

So hardened is my rival's soul; Faith, strength, and valor firm like all Who follow an impious sect.

In addition, Eustache loves a thousand times More religion and cult than his life.

Don't expect him then to worship our gods To follow our great Hadrian or pretend It, being against his religion and law.

METELLUS.

Will he condemn him to death if he learns He is a Christian? Hadrian will command Eustache to choose, sacrifice or death.

A soldier so fierce will never be Subjected to such a test, for it Matters little that Eustache take another faith.

CORNELIUS.

Indeed it matters little to Rome The cares that a distinct faith does give, For the city now impatiently awaits The off'ring, and it's essential for Hadrian To demand it and Trajan's sacred laws.

It's needea too that they ask it from him ...

By that side comes the great Hadrian.

Keep still, now, if he demands it. I'll speak.

-38-

SCENE II HADRIAN

HADRIAN.

Metellus, for Titus look in the room, See that he comes with you alone (Metellus goes).

At last now I understand why Eustache Refuses to make an off'ring to Jove And also the honor; for, although of this I've only fear, suspicion slight, You more than I know it; tell me, Cornelius, who's the god he reveres And what's his belief? Is it true that Trajan Forbade by decree this new faith's worship?

CORNELIUS.

Such a crime I can never suspect of him.

To remove every suspicion you Can talk with him.

HADRIAN.

I wish them to call Titus who will tell us the truth.

May he, not guilty, escape from the cnme, That I cannot absolve, the gods wish!

CORNELIUS.

How .can you let go unpunished such cnme, That compelled Nero to shed tlie blood Of many who did follow this sect?

HADRIAN.

But that ~yrant you make me recall Whose crimes you want me to commit?

He killed his mother with fury mad And his noble teacher Seneca, the sage.

CORNELIUS.

If Nero a monster had been, the great

Vespasian was good, his mem'ry is still

-39-

Revered, and however this Hydra with his head Wounded, nevertheless killed the Pope.

HADRIAN.

It was Saturninus who wish his death; Vespasian did grant the petition severe.

Titus was even more pious.

His mercy was praised and liked by all.

And he allowed that as regards some cults One can adhere to what he likes best.

CORNELIUS.

If you wish, if you allow me to talk to

you With utmost frankness and clarity As I should speak to you, My Lord .. .

HADRIAN. CORNELIUS.

(Interrupting him) Cornelius, State your intention and advice.

r know that Titus was really pious,

Fo a long time he was at peace with them.

You know what happened? Many became Disci pIes and brothers in the sect, That for the peace of Rome, Domitian Of gloomy misery and fury seemed To be a child. Titus was clement, But neither justice nor grandeur had he.

All monarchs want to be merciful.

It isn't clemency to let crimes go unpunished To those who love justice. The laws accuse Them rigorously and they cry To heaven that their kindness is cruelty!

If Eustache is a criminal, the laws of Trajan Condemn him; his worthy successor you're.

In heaven Jupiter reigns for you, -40-

And ~ou, for Jove, free and glorious you reIgn On earth! The world will have peace, if wise laws And only one cult of a deity it had.

HADRIAN.

Cornelius, tell me, does Jupiter Perchance look at us from above where he reigns?

CORNEUUS.

It is a wholesome thing for Rome

For all to believe that Jove looks at us.

HADRIAN.

But much did Eustache help the empire!

CORNELIUS.

If he's against the gods, he gives No military services to Rome!

With his example many will be Converted into his Christian faith And cult; and adding new proof of his faith He will hurt Rome. If the law of Trajan And your strong arm can justly condemn Him to death, don't fear that one would dare Rebel against sacred gods, and you Will see how every one will respect you.

SCENE III METELLUS AND TITUS

HADRIAN.

Wait in the nearby room, and Cornelius, (to Cornelius) Come back here after a while (Cornelius leaves)

TITUS.

My God! Comfort me with your grace And don't allow me to fail in my oath!

-41-

HADRIAN.

And your father you love?

Lord, very much.

TITUS. HADRIAN.

D'you know that he declined the rich rewards And t' offer sacrifices to Jove?

Oh tell me, why did he deprive himself Of the honor I did offer him?

TITUS.

Your honors he does not refuse; But t' offer his triumphs to the gods He detests ...

HADRIAN.

What did you say?

TITUS.

I don't believe That his victory is due to your Jove, For Jove can't give him any support.

HADRIAN.

And to whom then did he owe it?

TITUS. HADRIAN.

I

To God the true.

Is it not Jove perchance? Don't you see In the temple how many spoils of th' enemy Are placed as proofs of his great strength?

You're young, your scanty knowledge perhaps Ignores how Rome was born and how The Romans, always ardent in wars And victorious, did subject the crowns Of Europe, Asia, and Africa; And notwithstanding, being martial, These peoples are obedient to the gods.

TITUS.

The origin of Rome and the wars Of her children are not known to me.

HADRIAN.

Therefore, you also know, Titus beloved, Who are the Scipios and Metellus, The Emilius, the Caesars, the Fabius, The Sullus, the Calpurnius, and Pompeys.

-42-

TITUS.

I know them, Lord.

HADRIAN.

Undoubtedly you know very well That they recognized Jupiter as god, To whom all their victories they owe!

It's blindness and error of the mind!

Why did such famous warriors err?

TITUS.

I'm a child and I can't explain it to you.

My father, if yoy wish, can expose The blind cult of your belief.

HADRIAN.

Not by you nor by your father wish I To be instructed about your religion.

I, Titus, only want obedience.

TITUS.

This always, lord, I owe the throne.

But not in things our God forbids.

HADRIAN.

What are they?

TITUS.

To worship your Jupiter ...

HADRIAN.

By chance, do our gods one another envy?

TITUS.

There's only one immortal God! Jove, if he did exist, was mortal.

HADRIAN.

Yes, but he was made Immoral to mortals superior.

TITUS.

And who made him? Did he have pow'r immense?

HADRIAN.

Thus to me you speak and you fear not my Revenge? Don't you think I can cut off your head?

TITUS.

Hadrian, I am prepared right here!

From your anger I cannot run away, And even if I could, I wouldn't want to !

To your warriors I offer my head~ and you Yourself, oh great Hadrian, if you wish!

-43-

Break apart my heart with your sword, My tender veins ope, and my blood Shed, yes, oh shed it on this ground!

But don't expect me down to kneel Befqre your mad, impostor gods!

You alone, my Lord, only you I adore (Looking up to heaven) For you I'm brave, for you I die.

And you, you know my trust in this, (to Hadrian) In my God and in centuries to come!

HADRIAN.

For your youth I do forgive your crime.

Live, Titus, for you can; you'll be A powerful man later in my court!

Worship Jove. Do you want to have rewards, Honors and riches?

TITUS.

Lord, very much.

Wealth divine I want so much that because Of them I detest your frivolous ones.

I love God who can make me, contented, rich, And happy; for that reason I refuse All you give me and I venerate not Jove.

HADRIAN.

But you pledged to be faithful to my throne.

TITUS.

Lord, again I promise it to you; Here you have Titus who desires His father's noble deed t' imitate And always ready to obey you.

May he show you his sabre white All over covered with enemy spoils!

And like my father, make you see My breast covered with glorious scars ...

HADRIAN.

And why don't you fulfill your oath To me ? You refuse to worship our gods?

-44-

TITUS.

God does not want it.

HADRIAN.

You're my soldier, As I am of Jupiter; therefore you're A soldier of my god.

TITUS.

Lord, I can't be His vassal, nor you either.

Don't speak to me of Jupiter.

I'm resolved to die if you so wish.

HADRIAN.

Good. With torment and torture you will die As you deserve, so that the gods May be appeased and horror great May it cause to the hard heart of mad Eustache.

Lastly, do you choose death or rewards?

Choose what you wish; but think of what Is most acceptable to your heart.

TlTUS.

I love God; and things beyond the true God I should not be afraid of and love.

HADRIAN.

But your father you love?

TITUS.

Oh very much.

With him, true to God, I wish to die.

And in heaven sweet and eternal peace My father and I shall happily Enjoy. Here's my answer: Jove is naught; He is a vain idol. Thus I refuse him The honors due him: there's only one God.

HADRIAN.

Cornelius, come and return him to His father; but talk to him first, I am Uncertain of their lives, or fate, Or hope, if you don't win, as I wish, The father; later to my room withdraw.

-45-

SCENE IV CORNELIUS AND TITUS

CORNELIUS.

Oh, Titus, may the great Jove save you!

TITUS.

I hope for salvation from our God.

CORNELIUS.

My good Titus, the god that you most like, But. .. why uneasy are you? I'm Cornelius, The faithful friend of your father dear.

Alas, Titus, for the danger you are in I'm very sorry, and more for your death ...

TITUS.

What you fear is precisely what I want.

And what for me is sweet hope, should N t be stupid) fear for you.

CORNELIUS.

Speak clearly to me. My heart with love Is bursting and of satisfaction for you.

Hadrian exalts me with his grace, And if you wish, I can still save you.

TITUS.

This favor, Cornelius, don't do for me, And heaven grant you just reward For the love, as you say, you hold for us.

CORNELIUS.

Of our Hadrian's wrath aren't you afraid?

TITUS.

No; Hadrian can only give me death; But I long only for crude death, How then will you want me to face his wrath?

CORNELIUS.

Oh worthy descendant, noble, sublime, Of parents brave and enlightened!

In your virtuous heart I contemplate The firmness and valor of your sires, -46-

Noble ancestors and warriors; I laud Your constancy, free your heart, 0bey Your God and your desire; Achieve glory you who nothing fear, You strong, intrepid, surpass all.

TITUS.

You counsel well, but poorly you argue; Your opinion I follow, but I detest Your arguments. To my father send Me back. Perhaps he's looking for me.

CORNELIUS.

He is coming now, I leave you.

SCENE V EtJSTACHE AND TITUS

TITUS.

Dear father!

EUST ACHE.

What are you doing, my son?

Why are you with Cornelius? Why Are you walking 'round these places?

TITUS.

My fath er, I'll tell you all, our Metellus has called Me, and he has left me alone With the great Hadrian.

EUST ACHE.

Alone with Hadrian?

TITUS.

Only he was there; but Jesus Christ Was accompanying me; his holy name I invoked on presenting myself before Our emperor.

EUSTACHE.

Beloved Creator, Oh guide his heart on the rugged, dark Path where he walks!

-47-

TITUS.

He asked me why a sacrifice You refused to offer to supreme Jove; I replied that your vict'ry was due To the great God of the Christians.

EUST ACHE.

What else did he tell you?

TITUS.

Me he wanted to convince That th' impudent Jove is sovereign And numberless gods there are who are Propitious. I denied it, and he With death in the end did threaten me.

I expected it joyfully; however, I was Sorry to die without your embrace, Without giving you my last breath, Now I would not be unfortunate, For with your tender entreaties And pray'rs God will give me lucky reward.

EUST ACHE.

Let not Lord Jesus permit that I be Separated from you, dear Titus, without Em bracing you. Nothing more did he ask?

At last, son, Hadrian left you placid and safe?

TITUS.

Dear father, look, it seems to me That pensive and disgusted you are.

My sins may prevent me~ I'm afraid, From entering the sacred place Where does reside celestial joy, Where wretched weakness is not felt ...

EUSTACHE.

Don't fear; to Jesus offer as gift Your pleasant life, and chaste breast for Your father, sad who does repent.

TITUS.

May God accept my childish gift . ..

Ah! Father, why is your face disturbed, Sad tears are running down your cheeks?

-48-

The heavens above are witnesses That I behaved with spirit strong In the presence of Hadrian.

EUSTACHE.

My heart Is disturbed by mem'ry of the years, When I lived in a dark and gloomy night, Wrapped up in wretched falsehoods of blind Paganism. Dark night that covered Rome With its mantle black. I too fatal ways Did follow bowing to false gods.

Oh holy God, a wretched man's Senseless infidelity forgive ...

In the meantime receive my humble heart That now is changed. Forgive, oh God, Your unfortunate son who's innocent Of his father's crime sunk in error blind!

And stupid falsehood! You yourself Do promise us that kindly you would Forgive a penitent man who repents, And that oblivion eternal will Cover the sins that tears erase.

TITUS.

Oh father, I hope, that the kind Jesus Will receive me in the glory 'f the saints.

He himself kindles placid hope Within my innocent Christian heart.

EUSTACHE.

Oh, my Titus, his most holy will, be done In our lives: Perhaps Hadrian hopes to bend My valor firm . . . But to his faith Eustache will be faithful and to his God. (End of Act II) -

49-

ACT III

SCENE I

FLAVIUS AND CLAUDIUS

FLA VIUS.

Alas, Claudius; alas, my friend You don't know th' acute pain that vexes my breast!

I beg for your advice: your words Perhaps would be able to drive away The horrible struggles that the fate Of my father weaves. Claudius know that My father still exists and lives In '~ome, and f ercely sad death threatens him.

Oh gods, help ihim!

CLA UDIUS.

What are you saying to me?

By chance to day your father you find, The father you're looking for o'er the seas!

Oh heavens! Where's he that I may see him?

FLAVIUS.

Alas! You'll not believe it; he's Eustache ...

My father, and I'm his son ... what do You 'dvise me? Perchance reveal myself That I'm his son? Or forever avoid His presence? It is rumored in The city that a Christian he is, And Hadrian knows it. Sure death Awaits my father, unfortunate and sad.

For such resplendent nobility And for having a martial father, I'm glad ...

-50-

And unhappy, for death does him surround.

Exposed I see his glorious life: Alas! Why, oh cruel ill-luck, do you Torment me? Your heavy hand have I Not already tolerated? But alas!

And if he dies? But Hadrian would not Condemn him. Is it just to put him to death When his gen'rous blood he shed In war In defense of our imperial diadem?

And worthy is it for an emperor Perchance such a silly reward to give Eustache? No; and a thousand times no!

My brother is Titus! 0 h how in the breast The torment roars that the deaf fate hurls Ine orably! Instead of joy, bitter pain Devours the heart. Oh father, why, With terrible punishments d'you torment me?

Did I not love you? Did I offend You? Tell me, Titus cruel, what did I do to you that you want to be A Christian? Can I hope that when Eustache should know he would worship Jove? Ah! If I could save him! I Don't see it clearly, Claudius. Gods!

What should I do? What do you advise Me, friend?

CLAUDIUS.

What do you want me to tell you? Have You perchance sure proofs and the signs cannot Deceive you that little recall the fleeting past?

-51-

FLAVIUS.

List, Claudius, and you judge yourself Don't you recall That on the bank of a river sad, After crossing a forest wild that I From my dear father was separated?

Do you remember well that my Very tender age was not o'er five years?

Well then, Claudius, with acute pain Eustache Relates this to Faustus about his son, Faustus too tells it to me, leaving no Doubt: his account, his mem'ry, his deeds That h's my father clearly prove To me and his past life remembering The lioble Faustus with sadness did Relate to Titus the past events.

Can I still doubt, Claudius, that this hope Is true which now devours my breast?

If I ought to know him.

CLA UDIUS.

If F\austus tells you the pure truth,

And he too, you will certainly be His son. But, Titus is thinking now And trying to save him. I understand What affections are awakened in your breast Which disturb you. But list: I would like you To control yourself by hiding yourself.

In this, friend Flavius, only can Be found his sweet , salvation. Eustache I believe will love life when he learns Of the existence of his son.

You ought to reveal that his son livesAnd is found in Rome; but he must obey The mandate of Hadrian and then he'll see His son. Heart and heroic strength he'll lack To bear the weight of the paternal love -52-

And immense desire will oppress the sweet And noble breast of a father and His hardness bent with pleasure he will Our gods worship. This is what my soul counsels you.

FLAVIUS.

Alas, how heavy, Claudius, is your Advice and harder than steel and stone!

How do you want me, unhappy, to hide That I am his son? Alas! In vain You expect that from my filial love I should get so much. Flavius conceal that he Be his son, when his prayers' object he finds?

That his paternal love, not my soul, Defeat in such danger a dear father's love?

CLA UDIUS.

H~

danger ought to curb your love To save him from the peril unfortunate.

I shall be with you and this struggle of love And of the internal affection's harsh.

Conflict we shall support ourselves.

That conquered by love the noble Eustache Will be, my heart constantly awaits.

FLAVIUS.

Your advice I'll follow, and Claudius, I Prepare myself for such cruel and rough Undertaking, as you wish. If to yield He objects, remaining stubbornly firm In his opinion, oh, Claudius, tell Me: What will be my mournful hope?

CLAUDIUS.

I don't fear this. Of that I'm sure; Have courage, recover virtue and strength.

Look your valiant father, is coming to This place soon; he is already near.

-53-

SCENE II EUSTACHE

EUSTACHE.

Perhaps this is the last day ... but .. .

I have had the pleasure of seeing you.

FLAVIUS.

What do you say, Lord?

CLA UDIUS.

This I don't fear, For in this city are with you Your faithful servants. But, what do you want To do? Why d'you want a harm so prolix?

What compels you to disobey Hadrian's Commands? I have known you as prudent and why YOll act in this way I do no~ know.

EUSTACHE.

I, qlaudius, ought, if same judgment I have Not t'obey him and constantly tolerate That happy penalty until death.

FLA VIUS.

And it's constancy to arm yourself Against Rome, Caesar and the gods Who showed propitious always to men?

You don't want the august sacrifice, And of Hadrian's ire you're not afraid?

Ah! Pardon my love, my general ...

You who are adorned with a thousand gifts, An ungrateful son you want to show Yourself to Jupiter; a reb To the mandate of our emperor, Cruel to yourself? And can I tell You what to - Faustus you've retold Of your history sad? Perchance are you Not sorry for the misfortunes that have Befallen you for having believed -54-

In a new god unknown in Rome? Did it Save you from the fierce penalty With which the indignant Jupiter Oppresses you? Your paternal wealth Has been lost; to leave your country condemned, In another place where the frightful hoe You wielded wandering you went As sweet wheat you did offer to men, I also don't ignore how your Dear son you lost in a distant woods . . .

EUST ACHE.

Enough, Flavius! Why so painful a memory Do you remind a grieving father of That accident more cruel than death?

D'you want to be cruel to me, when I Have loved you as a father loves His dear son? But alas! With your name Alone I remember my son. But my Ill-luck was no punishment of your False gods. Thou, my God, thou Jesus Christ, Thou punished my past sins, because I at Another time blind, wretched I did Not know thy pow'rful being; but in Thine ire Thou were benevolent, Benign. I was also a worshipper Of false gods of impious cult.

I don't refuse to remind myself Of the errors that hurled me into that abyss Of dense fog and covered with horror, God Showed me his light of brilliance clear And I embraced his doctrine, off I pulled the repugnant veil that covered me.

I knew Him then and with the name I changed my customs; and treasures rich, Fat cattle, fertile fields, God took Away from me. A long time wand'ring -55-

Faraway from Rome I was. A dear Son, six years old, on the riverbankCruel mem'ry-I abandoned; I did Want to ford the river wide and I Was dragged by the current. . . I could not Help him. Of what use is it for me My dear one to remember, if God Expedites the day when I shall see Him in the happy asylum?

FLAVIUS.

This son whom you think is dead, is alive And lives in Rome. For he himself Recounts the sad event that you Tell us; there's no doubt that he's your son; That a shepherd saved him from death the will Of God wished to be propitious. He Is also called Flavius, him we know If you wish to see him, you offer great Sacr ifices and reverence to the gods.

EUST ACHE.

Are you telling the truth? My dear son is Alive? You know him? Can I believe you?

CLA UDIUS.

The truth he tells you, and thus I say That he's your son, if Faustus repeat Faithfully your words.

EUSTACHE.

Benign God! What do I hear! Heavens help me! And He's alive ... tell me where, beloved! In what place Is my son?

FLA VIUS.

Sacrifice to sacred Jove, and we Shall show him to you. Since the punishment That threatens you would hurt his fate.

How do you want to see your lost child?

-56-

EUST ACHE.

I would like him also to share my death In the future and my destiny.

If he was educated in The Christian life ... Alas! Perhaps !:Ie worships impious Jupiter, Forgetting his early ideas And the only God.

FLA VIUS.

He has promised To follow and honor our sacred gods, Because Rome honors them. We resolved For our love not to reveal him. Eustache, If you do not profess divine fear Toward the gods: You will succeed To save yourself and him in this way.

EUST ACHE.

Alas!

Friends, if you knew the torment harsh That my heart suffers . . . Be merciful . ..

FLAVIUS.

We pity you and due to this Your son is even hiding from us.

EUSTACHE.

For a father, 'tis not pity, friends.

FLAVIUS.

And your pity is not for your poor son!

EUST ACHE.

I love him more than you do. For sure He must have pretty habits and ways, As in his tender infancy he showed!

FLA VIUS.

And they still are. But you yourself By saving yourself, you ought to save him, And together with your little Titus.

EUSTACHE.

Ne'er shall we be safe without leaving The wretched asylum of this life Without consecrating to God our life ...

CLAUDIUS.

But, what do I see?

FLAVIUS.

I beg you, my lord .. ..

-57-

SCENE III HADRIAN AND CORNELIUS

HADRIAN.

Quickly begone, and let Eustache remain!

(To Flavius and Claudius).

Look, Cornelius, in what situation I am, The boldest champion of Rome denies The off'ring to the exalted Jove.

CORNELIUS.

Lord,. I know your clemency and his CrIme.

EUSTACHE.

I've committed no crime, sin or mistake For which his mercy he ought to use.

HADRIAN.

8b~y

the command and the fragrant Incense Wi h pleasure offer to sacred Jove.

EUSTACHE.

If it s a crime to refuse to do

So as I wish, let your laws condemn Me to death. I have lived enough, and my wish Is to rest after hardships and toils and for A tranquil peace. Only your sword can grant It to me. In my life I showed myself A soldier of the noble throne; In peace and in war, unwearied severe I prepared my breast for the hostile steel.

If in the battle I exposed my life, Under the scepter of Titus and Trajan, With valor fighting and in the wars Foot-soldiers and warriors knocking down; If with unconquered .s trength my wounds -58-

Shed blood in this war whence I return Triumphant conqueror; for the faith That I swore to my God, God infinite, Wise, omnipotent, I ought to arm Myself witb the same fortitude To suffer death for shedding blood.

Lord, where is Titus, that soldier whom In my early young years I served So much with my swords? August Emperor, Where is Trajan? That Spaniards who From my exile chose me to subdue The Parthians, to come out of Satium, strong And remarkable to overcome Distressing rough voyages, to traverse Hot deserts, to live in repulsive lands.

Exposing life to hazards cruel O-f such a difficult war? Where, Lord, Are they? Can I expect a reward Or some help in my wearied years?

And you Lord, whom in Rome I find A glorious successor of the great Trajan, to whom barbarous Monarchs I Present with ignominious iron Well guarded; peoples which knew not Th' empire of the Roman eagle, are now Of your throne tributaries and prisoners ; What reward in the future life can you Promise me? Since knowing that my life Is short, I seek peace. Can you grant Me a worthy reward? If for my triumphs you Are grateful, can you promise to My valor eternal honor, which To your throne was so faithful? A sacrifice Of th' incense profane with which you wish Me to outrage my faith, to your impure Jupiter I deny. God omnipotent Immortal honor does promise me And eternal kingdom. How can I -59-

Invoke in your Capitol a vain Narne that in the fiery voice of wars Was not propitious to me? I invoked My God and instantly he was with Me against the Parthians fierce; and where'er I did go vict'ry followed soon.

In his name I conquered your enemies ~ With incense on top of the Capitol This Lord alone I will invoke; Not being he I despise Jupiter . . .

HADRIAN.

Of what God are you thinking? It Is well known that the man you adore Was a criminal, and the Jews themselves Killed him. Jerus'lem indeed saw him dead!

EUSTACHE.

You can't understand in what way He Was mortal, if your dark mind divine Light does not illumine well. But Don't you kno that th' Eternal Father venged His name in the wretched Hebrews with such Revenge that the whole world was filled with fright?

And Lord, we, if you don't know it, And our soldiers were the fury and ire Of his vengeance. Remember, sir, that Event, that battle which with terror was filled, With which that kingdom we laid waste ....

One million., one hundred thousand Jews Unhappy suffered harsh death: some By hunger, some by the sword, the rest By the beasts did perish. Aven$er of The divine rage so many dead dId serve The faith enough. This same Lord, Christ Himself, predicted such lugubrious event.

-60-

You, sir, and I were with Titus in That ever memorable siege . . . not of Roman cruelty or fury mad but it is Of justice and example great.

HADRIAN.

This was in the past~ and not proper it is To recall a war that I believe The mem'ry of Titus offends very much.

A Roman you're and it's Rome's desire That you honor our gods.

EUST ACHE.

A Christian I am.

HADRIAN.

Therefore you're destined to unhappy death And Trajan's law does condemn you!

EUST ACHE.

I wish to conform to the sentence; I Am ready to die and my gentle son.

HADRIAN.

As an intrepid warrior you knew ho~ to give Death to others with terrible bravery, And with valor you will suffer the same . ..

But your son's blood will cry out For cruel revenge . . .

EUSTACHE.

I'm not afraid I am a kind father to my son.

HADRIAN.

From my palace so soon you'll not get out, In the last days that remain to you, Except to offer soft incense Or to die. '.I'o your soldiers and to you (to Cornelius) I entrust him; Cornelius, watch him.

But You in the meantime deliberate, And worthy of your virtues, take An advice. You go and come back changed To be able fulfill very soon my wish.

-61-

EUSTACHE.

From what I am in vain you can expect To find me diff'rent Hadrian, in a way So violent. No, you'll not find Eustache Unfaithful to God, one who knew how to Subdue many warriQrs; nor will you see Me at the altars impure of your False gods offering incense to Jove For villainous fear.

HADRIAN.

Go away now, and Think for a moment that vou owe Me obedience and submissiveness; Your bold mad thoughts with which you insult The gods and Caesar, for your valor Unconquered, I am forgiving you; But if you are tenacious, my Clemency is equal to my rage.

EUSTACHE.

I'm not afraid. No, neither your Rage nor your compassion I implore.

HADRIAN.

Soldiers, guard him immediately.

EUSTACHE.

Fear not that I'll escape; God guards Me more than the soldiers th' empire.

(He leaves)

SCENE IV HADRIAN AND CORNELIUS

HADRIAN.

(Aside-with laurels girded路 is Hadrian, With flow'rs and seated on a throne; Faced with the hard choice to condemn or set Free his soldier dear, appearing lax.

CORNELIUS. I know not the reason, sir, why on The culprit you delay the death Sentence! His reply so haughty as well -

62 -

As rash perchance your valor does not Vouchsafe, for such madness Is unworthy 'f so sensible a man.

HADRIAN.

In the city how many know that he Adores a diff'rent imaginary god?

CORNELIUS.

The whole city knows it.

HADRIAN.

To his valor I Ungrateful would not like to appear And to his loyalty, for which I reign.

CORNELIUS.

(With anger) His present impiety is enough to eclipse His fidelity and valor false!

Eustache disobeys your mandates and The law he follows Rome abhors.

The fathers of th' empire, the Romans, who Atribute to Jove their triumph high, Will neither call you cruel nor ungrateful king, For in the august deities they believe Not in that Christ whom Eustache adores ...

You see that the more you threaten him The less that wicked man fears you.

And in the meantime Rome awaits vVith impatience to see if you'll defend The sacred edicts of the great Trajan And what respect contains your noble breast For our divine gods. Rome believes that Jove Protects her and defends her in The vast empire; thus obediently loves our gods, And loves and respect the gods so much ...

HADRIAN.

Hence, I have forbidden Eustache to leave My palace grand, if he does not -63-

Acknowledge, Jose as responsible for The hundred glorious honors of war.

CORNELIUS.

He'll never do it; but I've only one Means, your mandates to make him obey.

HADRIAN.

What?

CORNELIUS.

Condemn to death the boy Titus, and With great fright he wiJl fear your ire, For blinded and mocking 'You, he believes That he will never be condemned, And then he will be'afraid when he Sees th' effect of your rage.

HADRIAN.

Execute your own dvice and let him die today.

(He leaves).

CORNELIUS.

He misunders ood my advice; meanwhile I I'll execute it. Upon seeing his death On his opinion Eustache will hold fast.

ACT IV SCENE I CORNELIUS AND METELLUS

CORNELIUS.

No,

no'ore subterfuge remaIns to Eustache, For the more Hadrian does threaten him More firm is his determination, And with his haughty speech to insult Us and our gods; wishing for death He aecuses men of delaying it.

-64-

METELLUS.

But when he sees that the furious threats Of Caesar are not in vain, perhaps The death that he wishes for himself Would infuse him with fear on seeing it.

CORNELIUS.

To put Titus to death I induced Hadrian; Perhaps very opposite thing Will come out; frankly I'll tell you my Opinion, t'explain it when there's time.

By now, it's not convenient for me To be late; Titus to furious beasts I'll give, because these spectacles please The people, and perhaps for them Their author obtain new merit and Laurels. The hope of the father once dead, With new longings he will seek death and More he will blame him if it's delayed.

METELLUS.

Does Eustache know the death of his itus?

CORNELIUS.

He does not know it; death he does Not repel. From his prison, Metellus, I'll get Him; on his father I'll take revenge, And in this way I will insult The father's ever suspicious vigilance.

SCENE II FLAVIUS

FLAVIUS.

Cornelius, for pity's sake, let me speak With Eustache! Your soldiers refuse to let Me enter their horrible prisons!

CORNELIUS.

If you ask humbly, with pleasure I Will grant it to you. For a moment wait

-65-

For them to get him from the palace.

Metellus, come, accompany me If you wish Hadrian's orders to carry out.

SCENE III FLAVIUS ALONE

FLAVIUS.

Oh cruel destiny! Oh ungrateful Rome!

That you thus torment the unvanquished warrior who For your welfare excel on the battlefields.

Why have I deserved your wrath?

Ungrateful nation!... Wretched people ... !

If your rule, supreme gods, the destinies Of mortals on this earth, why am I unhappy with. the punishment?

Wa I expectil1lg another reward For my labors! Unhappy father of A brother of mine! Tender tears, make soft Eustache's heart of marble and granite!

Oh! He comes now: propitious, divine Heavens, pity a wretched warrior!

SCENE IV EUSTACHE AND FLAVIUS

EUSTACHE.

My Flavius, here, here I am . .. What do You want of me? Why aren't you contented?

FLA VIUS.

You want to die and drag along With you Titus! Why d'you ask me about The cause of my sadness? Are you firm -66-

In your decision wretched and sad!

You want to lose little Titus; That glory that with effort great And with unconquered arm you've won From your military adversaries ... !

Tears are not for a brave man; But crying conquers an iron heart!

EUSTACHE.

Alas! If you love me, you would not want, Dear Flavius, to torment my paternal heart!

Leave me in peace, let victory End in pacific calmness. How I would like you to follow my steps You, who with warlike valor in The fights did follow the waving of The flags and the sound and noise of arms!

If in search of cities you followed me T' eternal kingdom you too ought to come with me ...

FLA VIUS.

I love you with the love of a loving son; But, you wish me to die with you?

EUSTACHE.

Don't tell me you love me, 'cause you 'ggravate My grief! While I regard you as poor As goodness you lack eternal and pure ...

But do not pretend you love me.

FLA VIUS.

I am not pretending sir. Sublime Jupiter witnesses the purity Of my breast which the fire of love consumes.

But if you have no pity for Yourself; just for your cruel wish Titus Will die. Your older son too will perish who, If you wish, I can reveal to you.

-67-

But so that he may not die I hide Him from your eyes.

EUSTACHE.

And, is it love? No; for it's torment.

And Deceit fabricated by you in order To mitigate my paternal heart.

Your valor I sufficiently know, And Flavius, I appreciate your pIOUS love.

FLA VIUS.

Neither is it deceit nor do you know yet The love for only your person I have.

But, d'you want to die without seeing Your son, or saying naught or the last Goodbye? If you truly love him and me, Show it to me and you'll see my thought .. .

Y\ou cry? ... Why d'you turn away your face? ..

Ten me. .. Father dear! Hear in my sad Breast you find filial love. I'm Flavius!

I'm the one who suffers torment not To b' equalled! Lose me or save me with you, Eustache! If you wish to save me, I Shall go content. .. To Titus take Me, to my brother dear for I want To convince him and embrace Him since your heart is inflexible ...

EUSTACHE.

Oh! God, your loftiest secrets who Can fathom? You returned to me My son, and to your heavenly decrees lowe it. But if he comes to his Father's bosom, eternal God, lead him To a good end; in order to enjoy Happy glory. Change his heart and sentiment So that Flavius also may become your son.

-68-

Oh! Your face reminds me of objects, Tender objects, pleasing to my mind.

FLAVIUS.

Oh my father! As I find you, I lose You also at the same instant ...

Can you bear it? Faustus without knowing it United us; and now would you want to die?

You want to stay away from me again?

EUSTACHE.

It was God who united us

Dear Flavius, in my last peaceful days, And you can be always united to Your brother and me in Heaven. For In this vain and fleeting life you have Forgotten that in your tender breast The sweet sentiments of Christian religion You learned in your tender infancy.

The first ideas that in your mind Were writ are of the Creator true.

Believe me, Flavius, believe a father: You'll live happily contented and If you iwould follow the heavenly doctrines Of our holy religion. I confess That in my robust age I left the gods, Believing in the Eternal doctrines.

Your mother dear was a Christian too ...

FLA VIUS.

Where's my mother, 'cause I want to see her?

EUSTACHE.

Her life did happily end, to God Eternal giving faithful proof.

She dwells in Heaven and she invites Us to her happy and joyful abode.

Do you remember how much she loved You? Soon I'll see her at the gates Of that kingdom more beautiful then the sun, -69-

Than the .moon, extending her pleasant arms To me, embracing and kissing happy Titus and asking me with painful tone: "Espouse sweet, where is Flavius?" But son, Tell me: what can I answer her? He is A cruel foe of our Creator, who Worships and serves perfidious gods; Who lacks light because of cruel deceptions And of dreadful fires a pris'ner will be And avengers of sacred faith. To that Lord, to God immense, I offered that From childhood you would worship him (to Flavius).

And for this I expected to have a reward; But to her I shall say that on leaving the world I I'Poke to you, showed you the happy path; ) But you were obdurate to my words.

Then in th' Avernus you'll be disjoined From God, from her, from Titus dear: Then that Flavius, her tender son, will not See the delights of Heaven; that Flavius who was her first love. Since you Who, sadly weeps, anxiously (to Flavius) Seek her maternal bosom, so yielding To the entreaties of her sons, She is Waiting for you, Flavius, in Heaven.

FLAVIUS.

I love my father and he ought not To leave. me plunged in my sorrow and weepIng Extremely. He ought not to die, for he sees In Flavius an unhappy son.

-70-

SCENE V CLAUDIUS

CLA UDIUS.

Where's Titus? ... Where, sir, is he? ...

You see him led to harsh death To lions and beasts delivered! And you Don't look for an asylum for your son?

EUSTACHE.

What do you say? Poor me! My son Is in danger! But, what? They have not yet Given us the punishment ... But, have You seen him? How do you know?

Why? Tell me, tell me, my Claudius!

CLA UDIUS.

Led by perfidious soldiers I have seen Him near the amphitheater: the mob Was running to the spectacle To look at the unhappy child.

Confusedly repeated the populace: Look at Eustache's son, at Titus look Thrown to the beasts; a Christian he is!

EUST ACHE.

Omnipotent Creator, God benign (looking at the sky) Comfort gently his tender heart. Lord, support Him, to Thee I entrust him; be gentle To him at the hour of his death!

Lord, triumph, over all enemies There are in the world. Exalt the glory Of your name so that you may be feared.

Let Rome see that you, Lord, help her.

Receive His soul. .. But now gentle Titus, my son, Gladly offer your blood for your brother, son dear.

-71-

FLA VIUS.

What do you say, father, Oh! How my breast appresses me!

CLAUDIUS.

Oh, my Flavius, a good reason you have For weeping. .. in the eyes. .. on the face ...

EUST ACHE.

But, my Claudius, how did he look to you?

CLA UDIUS.

Like rising Phoebus, radiant, joyful.

He scarcely did see me when to me he said: "Goodbye, and tell my father to hasten The happy day to be with me."

FLA VIUS.

Alas, little brother of mine, alas Unhappy one!

CLA UDIUS.

'you know that he is also your son And you don't save him from the pain He's suffering?

EUSTACHE.

Alas, I would Like to save him. . . but what do I see?

SCENE VI TITUS

CLAUDIUS.

How? Well ... you saved yourself?

I don't understand. (To Titus)

TITUS.

Alas, father. .. alas, friends ...

EUSTACHE.

Beloved son, Did you remain faithful to God?

TITUS.

Yes, father.

-72-

EUSTACHE.

How did you flee from the desired reward?

TITUS.

Don't think that I fled, father dear.

EUSTACHE.

Oh, God! I fear some perfidious deceit.

TITUS.

Don't fear, no, for I was prepared Death to receive like a Christian.

EUSTACHE.

What happened to you then? Tell me quick.

TITUS.

Hardly have you left me, Cornelius fierce Got into my room and took me out.

To his perfidious soldiers entrusting me, Because to death I was condemned By order of th' illustrious Hadrian.

From there they brought me right away To th' amphitheater spacious and wide.

On the arena I instantly Saw myself surrounded by people and walls.

Roars from the closed caves I did hear From countless lions. I knelt on the ground And I thought of my Lord. His holy name With fervent clamor tearfully I Invoked ... I cheered up, for near I saw the asylum of the just.

"Take your servant", - with fervor I exclaimed"And accept the sacrifice of my life.

My beloved father, Lord, I commend To Thee and kindly receive my last breath."

I said this, and the soldiers instantly To two lions ope the barriers which Furiously hurled themselves into The center; angered their long manes they move And frightfully their tails they agitate; -73-

And roaring like horrible thunder Hungry o'er the patio immense they pass Showing me their teeth and claws; but when They reach me their havoc they put aside And with tenderness extreme they caress Me. And becoming placid and tame Their reddish loiri thrice they rub Against my right side lightly. And They look at me as quietly they rest And on th' arena lengthwise they lay.

EUSTACHE.

Oh th' inscrutable counsels of God! You make Lions tame; you soften their heart with your word ~nd likewise you harden the unjust!

FI r such prodigy bless your Lord and five (to T"tus) Hi~ thanks for saving you.

Blind Rome!

Your clouded eyes open and recognize The God of the Christians. But tell me, How did you come?

TITUS.

All the populace Rose in admiration of the event And instantly also up I rose, To the guards of th' entrances I went Who, for your sake, perhaps, let me pass.

And through the straight road I went to you.

Do, Lord, whatever please you (looking at the Heaven) For I offer the sacrifice of my life.

CLAUDIUS.

Your God wants to see you safe and sound So that you may placidly obey Jove.

-74-

EUSTACHE.

For such purpose He doesn't want me to be safe.

Nor can he wish it.

CLA UDIUS.

Why can't he?

EUST ACHE.

'Cause to his faith He doesn't want us to Be perfidious traitors. 0 h! Titus, In Flavius the warrior look thee at Your brother whom I mentioned to you.

TITUS.

Dear! ... Gentle brother! (He is going to embrace him and Eustache stops him.)

EUSTACHE.

Don't embrace him!

He is an adversary of our God!

TITUS.

Luckless Flavius! Brother unfortunate! . . .

011, conquer, Lord, his iron heart!

EUST ACHE.

Look, ungrateful son, how cruel you are (to Flavius) Titus with his example ought To win you and on knowing that The beasts were tamed. Look God has tamed The savage impetus of the fierce Lions to let you know that He's Supreme.

With valor as soldier you followed me Without fearing the specter of death ...

To martial glory true, you respect The leader of the Roman arms And do follow the mandate of My voice. And upon my wish you expose Your noble breast to the arrows dense Of the Parthians, valorous and bold As always. .. and now of you I need, Flavius, That valor, that fidelity owed to God, the Creator, potent and supreme.

-75-

As your father you recognized me And you want to change, Flavius ingrate?

But, why do I try to bend a soul Who is deaf to my sane counsels?

Unhappy son, of my presence get out, In order not to hear my ultimate will, Your father's painful complaints that wound The heart. Depart, Flavius, go far Away from your father whom you disobey.

And say at least: "Father... brothel', goodbye."

TITUS.

Alas! Flavius ...

EUST ACHE.

You've courage enough To say so? You don't have so much. ":t ou don't show so much ingratitude.

Alas! Respond, respond, unfortunate man.

FLA VIUS.

You won, my father, at your feet See me! (He kneels). I worship your Creator, I adore and love Him. I know the Supreme God of my childhood; if His loving arms Receive me, I'll love Him more. Can I hope, Though I am wicked, to be received?

EUSTACHE.

Yes, Flavius, I promise you that He'll Admit you to His sacred abode If you'd love Him with the love of a son.

FLA VIUS.

I was blind and unhappy ten years ago! ...

EUSTACHE.

The infidelities you did commit Repentance does erase, Flavius.

Now arise and rest well content.

-76-

FLAVIUS.

With you I await the longed-for reward.

That you promise me... Titus, come embrace me!

EUSTACHE.

Embrace him and embraced let us die!

ACT V SCENE I

CLAUDIUS AND FLAVIUS

CLA UDIUS.

And lastly, Flavius, what can I Expect from your life?

FLA VIUS.

I think, dear friend, That there in Heaven a fine place awaits Me and enduring peace; but with me, You'll not be?

CLAUDIUS.

I see that paternal . ideas Could guide your understanding along Paths where you will detest your life.

FLAVIUS.

Not any more for love I seek death.

To such opinion reason leads me.

If my father (may fate wish it not) Would obey the mandates of Hadrian, I would be firmer than a rock.

And I do charge them as ingrates I'd continue in what God teaches me.

CLAUDIUS.

But . .. Flavius, does this faith demand your blood?

FLA VIUS.

Now it demands it; but, Claudius, look: If I, as I told you, would like to fight For the monarch who wretchedly does sigh -77-

CLAUDIUS.

And for Rome I would offer gladly myself : Did I get any fitting reward? Therefore Much more I ought to die and fight If this lowe to a wretched man, For my God who with His glory invites Me, more do lowe the enlightened God! And moreover, my body from the tomb Now unremembered Hadrian cannot raIse Nor could I dwell in so happy a place As that which God already concedes to me.

To our apartments let me go To discuss our religion beloved . . .

The remaining moments of my life .. .

(Interrupting) The remaining moments of your life?

Think, Flavius, and with reason decide.

FLAVIUS.

I do think and I'm very sorry, dear \friend, That you're not lucky to share with me In the enjoyment of goodness divine, In holy heaven let us seek peace!

CLAUDIUS.

I don't want heaven. Know that I Esteem you more than what you believe.

What a loss! I've esteemed you, and sadly I moan! oh pitiless heart, ingrate and hard!

FLAVIUS.

It's not so hard that for you it doesn't feel An . accute pain that sadly I endure The past restlessness that torments me.

Alas! For your obstinacy I dj e Uneasy! Perhaps you'll do what you now Refuse and then enchanting JOY Will be mine for your religious change.

And if your ardent heart loves me Quench the fire that inflames my breast.

- 78 -

SCENE II METELLUS AND CORNELIUS CORNELIUS.

Go away from here and you got to Hadrian (to Flavius) ; I order you to go to him right away ...

FLAVIUS.

Why! . .. Our sovereign is calling me!

(A threatening gesture I see on his face.)

CORNELIUS.

And you ask? Do you know that a Roman should Not vex a ruler? Flavius, go, And jn a moment you will know; And you, also depart and follow him (to Claudius they go.)

SCENE III METELLUS AND CORNELIUS CORNELIUS.

Do you know that Flavius now follows and adores The God of the Christians and that he's the son of the criminal?

METELLUS.

I've just found it out: But what will befall th' unfortunate youth?

CORNELIUS.

Removed from his father's side he'll live, And to the cult of the deities he'll Return through Hadrian's flatteries; And besides, an Athenian Hadrian has, A man of learning and talent rare,

-79-

Of reasons persuasive and eloquent That they can hardly contradict, And he'll dissuade him with his speech, In such a way that gladly he'll yield ...

And far from his father it's not possible That th' entreaties he'll resist and death He will seek; with such a desire, he's mad.

METELLUS.

Will Flavius live?

CORNELIUS.

I don't care at all!

For little he opposes my designs.

Eustache, yes, he shows himself my foe, With Titus he'll die and in a short time If Hadrian carries out his designs.

METELLUS.

For them, in truth, compassion I feel!

And of wretched criminals you hasten the death?

CORNELIUS.

Wh delay death, if criminals they are?

METELLUS.

The Christians Heaven does defend!

CORNELIUS.

Heaven!

METELLUS.

In that Titus didn't you see it?

Who can restrain the hunger of beasts Except One with an infinite pow'r?

CORNELIUS.

Why do you defend his cruel crime When such crime indicts and does hurt them?

METELLUS.

You incriminate them with such defense.

CORNELIUS.

And don't you know that magical arts Do often serve the profane? And still Rarer marvels you will see? Besides, Our Hadrian wishes it. Despite His slowness, I have induced him to leave

-80-

Them to me to decide what to do with them ...

METELLUS.

But that they're guilty you believe?

CORNELIUS.

He wants it thus: I know what I do.

Here they are coming now with chains.

METELLUS.

Alas, you're shedding innocent blood!

Oh, how horrid! Rome, what laws you have!

SCENE IV EUSTACHE AND TITUS CHAINED

CORNELIUS.

The emperor orders that I tell you His last exceedingly pow'rful will, And carefully decide on your fate: Do you want the sacrifice or death?

METELLUS.

Think that your vict'ry dies with you, Together with Titus, young glory!

EUST ACHE.

I thank you for your pity and love (to Metellus).

CORNELIUS.

Your misfortunes, friend, pain me very much!

EUST ACHE.

Fulfill your duty. .. don't say things That your deceitful soul does not fe el.

I know you, Cornelius; I forgive you.

I choose death that the throne offers me.

Say, Metellus, is Flavius here '?

METELLUS.

In front Of Hadrian he is. Not always wrong For a decision Flavius will adopt Deserving of youth so discreet and wise.

-81-

He will leave erroneous customs of Our religion to surmises. And You live for Rome, for us, for your Dear friends and for others who love you.

Go then to the sacred tern pIe of Jupiter and show an example grand Of religiosity.

EUST ACHE.

I will sin, friend, Against my God if I take your advice.

METELLUS.

Don't you want to see Flavius?

EUSTACHE.

I would like To see him ere with Titus I die.

Cornelius, be more human, for pity's sake!

CORNELIUS.

Eustache, Your wish will be in vain.

QU know that I obey the crown.

TITUS.

OR father! Flavius now deserts us, Antl returns to the cult of Jupiter.

EUSTACHE.

Alas! What fierce and cruel affront!

To present myself with my children dear (raising his eyes) I thought of joining them, oh Lord, And at your most exalted feet Lay myself, before your throne I long For that felicity for my breast!

And if you would like to probe my heart, That with your justice you strike a soul.

You can sustain me with your grace Against my bad luck's ferocious weight ...

Forgive my sorrow, I distrust My unhappy Flavius, in you I trust.

What force can change him who is sad.

At heart if your favor he enjoys ?

For Thee I die and some solace I hope To find him glorious in heaven above.

-82-

Your wishes permit them, for my fault, To take away my dear Flavius from me.

Can I not in any way speak to him?

(To Cornelius).

CORNELIUS.

You ask it for naught!

EUST ACHE.

I'll suffer it all!

The bitter sorrow in sacrifice He accepts and the punishment of my days.

Let's fulfill his wish and Titus, let's go; Let death come and up to Eden we go.

Your tender heart raise thee to God; Endure death which the guilty alarms.

TITUS.

Let's go, oh father, gaily to death.

Receive me! For Flavius I give my life; For Flavius my gift I offer to God; ~nd suffer any affront to God.

EUSTACHE.

If you have a heart stout and merciful

(to Metellqs) Tell my Flavius that in cruel death I'm sorry he is not with us, For with Flavius contented I would die.

And merciful God while he implores To forgive my sinful soul, Remember Christ the King, Mother, father and brother who, In Heaven impatiently wait for him Titus, courage~ rest your aching feet.

(He carries him and walks)

SCENE V FLAVIUS

FLAVIUS.

Oh father ... stop ... Why do you walk In joy with chains? Where are you going?

-83-

EUSTACHE.

To Heaven.

And to where are you bound, my solace sweet?

FLAVIUS.

I'm going with you to suffer death.

EUST ACHE.

Dear, is it true?

FLAVIUS.

What a dreadful attack Of rewards, of promises, flatteries, Of reasons, terrible looks and acts, They think I would desist from the good!

But God has won for me and instantly To die with you my soul desires; In calmness, pleasantly and in joy To dwell singing praises to the Just God.

EUSTACHE.

You inundate my breast with joy, Dear Flavius, just for you, Eustache feared.

M~ breast now trembles with fervent delight, For seeing you resolved with ardor to die.

CORNELIUS.

You don't worship the gods?

FLA VIUS.

The gods of Rome?

Th' Eternal Creator of the earth I adore, God sovereign of peace and war; I'll serve Him faithfully 'nd die for Him.

CORNELIUS.

Put him in chains, oh soldiers, come 'they come.

FLAVIUS.

How sweet I feel them! So soft are these chains!

EUST ACHE.

At last, my dismal woes they removed; With sweetness and honey my breast overflows.

- 84-

I shall surely see you, oh God, with my sons ...

For God converted my weeping sad Into copious joy of heavenly charm, Which fills with glee the lucky heart.

TITUS.

Now we are happy!

FLA VIUS.

Lucky we are!

CORNELIUS.

Take them, soldiers, and put them to death.

EUST ACHE.

Come and let's suffer with the stoutest heart, For God invites us to His eternal home.

SCENE VI CORNELIUS AND METELLUS

METELLUS.

Such virtue is not known in RQme, For the sentence gladly they receive And are contented to leave the world ...

So resigned they look at th' ultimate hour, That a deity leads them 'tis possible A superior deity in pow'r and force.

CORNELIUS.

You feel yourself. The Christians valor show .

'Cause they long to be known as intrepid.

If th~y know how to die, in ruling I'm WIse ...

At last I've triumphed o'er the beast Who wished to snatch from me the crown.

-85-

METELLUS.

"Soon falls one who rises so rapidly."

Luck's voluble and from on high It drops into the cistern mortal man.

CORNELIUS.

Next to Hadrian, I shall be the first, And I shall command in the war begun.

METELLUS.

If your enemy fell, you who'll ascend, Think of and believe in your future fall.

CORNELIUS.

As so much fortune I don't have, I fear not they'll hurl me down by force.

METELLUS.

I believe that is the way humans talks Who wretched are blinded by themselves.

About others' fate we're sensible; But blind about ours. I, Cornelius.

I'm a culprit of his blood, and with it I ~ould not r ant to stain myself.

CORNELIUS.

That is how it seems to you, for his death .

Does make your soul feel compassion.

I also ftlt some sense of guilt . ..

But it's Hadrian who is to blame.

METELLUS.

But if you've a crime and fear it not, Of Hadrian are you not afraid?

CORNELIUS.

Oh, what do you think?

METELLUS.

The Ruler, I say, doesn't order you To put him to death without his nod.

CORNELIUS.

He spoke in a way I don't fear any more ...

He was in doubt, as then he shows, To condemn them or set them free; But, won at last by my eloquence,

-86-

He said, "Cornelius, I gIVe them to you" ...

What can you reply?

METELLUS.

Just one moment, wait For it seems that somebody's coming near.

CORNELIUS.

Go, quickly take away the gods .. .

Alas!

What sorrow my desperate heart feels!

Cruel remorse takes hold of my villainous soul.

The angered furies revengeful surround My heart. It seems to me I see Ghosts silently wandering asking for An accounting of my wickedness Naught! Nothing! It is late.

No salvation! Nothing remains to me !

METELLUS.

Hadrian comes with a troubled face!

CORNELIUS.

I fear that Claudius.. . the verdict I fear!

SCENE VII HADRIAN WITH LICTORS AND PRIESTS

CORNELIUS.

Oh, at last the Trajan Law is saved Together with th' honor of the gods.

HADRIAN.

But not the Cornelian word Or his loyalty. Precisely all The band of the Roman eagle gives For sure the lie to his calumnies; For hardly did the chiefs know it They promised to persuade Eustache.

CORNELIUS.

Great Emperor, I swear by Jove That they accuse you of being slow -87-

In condemning Eustache, and I assure you They will be glad to see him die ...

HADRIAN.

You've been hasty, perfidious perjurer, That such condemnation they did ask As you do say by your own hands The laws of Trajan you execute; But, ne'ertheless, in doubt I remain ...

I want t' see how wisely you served me' When Titus, the brave, I gave to you.

To his father to deliver him.

My order did you obey? Ah! cruel, Deceitful, can you recall what I said To you? How truly you served me then?

Have you contradicted my commands?

CORNELIUS.

Sir .. . What doubt is this? I don't understand ... r talked to him as you ordered me ...

Bvt, how could I remember it?

HADRIAN.

If it is not enkraved in your mind,

Recall to your Jmind such horrible crime Encouraging Titus, unfortunate, Against Jupiter and Rome to rise, Since you think you can hide it from me!

And I saw your crime, and ne'ertheless Your pallor too betrays it to me.

You ought to feel it the moment you See the crime already weighing on you.

Titus did not tell me, a loving judge He was of such a luckless life That you have just cruelly sacrificed Oh th' altar of a bloodthirsty god.

And you feign to be loyal to me as you excite Them to deny the pow'r of the gods.

When many leaders were hoping t' obtain Forgiveness from my clemency.

You rise alone as you contrive -88-

That I hurry up the judgment on them ...

This. is caused by your feigned jealouSIes Which give to th' Emperor anxieties great; The ship and pow'r of the vast state And resplendent and magnificent You by my side would stand ...

But, for your daring I'll allow you now To leave for Ostia for your grievous mistake To suffer forever cruel exile.

Ne'er to leave it for being ingrate; Relief you'll not enjoy but torment, Step thee not in Rome, grateful city, Nor rich food will you taste therein For disobeying my command.

CORNELIUS.

Sir, forgive me... I appeal to your clemency.

HADRIAN.

En ious man, lout of my presence, go away ...

METELLUS.

You're, sir, just and kind, For you act as a sovereign should,

HADRIAN.

And, Metellus, think, don't let jealous desire And human ambition encourage you.

Look at Cornelius who consents to kill The loyal ones with his own hand, Flee from the temple of disloyalty.

METELLUS.

With your example, Hadrian, I shall learn.

LAST SCENE CLAUDIUS

HADRIAN.

From where do you come? What news d'you bring me?

-89-

CLAUDIUS.

Eustache, oh Hadrian, died with his sons After a hard strife and pains prolonged.

I cannot give you a faithful account.

So moved the people wept with copious tears Seeing the boys who ~errily laughed And placid the face for contented they died.

By sweet emotion my breast was moved.

As he prayed the candid Titus gave His neck, laughing softly, to th' executioner ...

Off went his head that prettily was raised From th' impact of iron by the ferocious hand.

His father instantly picked it up And kissed the marked face with tender love.

In a placid v ice of Flavius, my friend, At same moment from the torso's disjoined.

I cried as I saw such a bloody event, That also made the people weep.

Eustache pleased and merry followed them And with spirit strong he offers his life, Awaiting the same fate from iron and fire For seeing in heavenly Eden his sons.

To see them so faithful I would die I thought, On seeing them with smiling, contented face Courageously suff'ring the torture fierce.

What an image so tender, happy submission!

Extremely touched I was as Flavius, as Titus - 90 -

With affectionate voice did say to me: "Oh Claudius, we shall pray for you", An arrow sharp did strike my heart.

HADRIAN.

The law of Trajan and Cornelius fierce Deprived Rome of a valiant man.

Of the Christian faith that hated the law.

Most sorry I was, a believer was I; Most sorry I was that my rule compelled him In a powerful deity to believe, A wish that deprived me of a leader brave Who left scattered his belicose flock.

CLAUDIUS.

Of pity for certain not worthy they were.

Weare . . . A very powerful God Exists who with clemency governs and rules ...

There also is a future life.

How strong so many Christians we see Whp gladly suffer, tolerate death: Thus they do it honoring the just God The God of the Christians who Eden made!

END

-91-

11. CAPTIVITY AND TRIUMPH

Before Rizal was twelve years old he had read El ultimo Abencerraje, a Spanish translation of Chateaubriand's novel, Le Dernier des Abencerages. This is the story of the last member of a famous family in the Muslim Kingdom of Granada in the XV century inspired him to compose the following poem when he was a student at the Ateneo Municipal de Manila. It bears the date 3 December 1876.

The proud Abencerage provokes The soldiers brave of Castilla Ferociously to humble him After he had destroyed Montilla.

The Count of Cabra soon arrives In his strong arm he displays his saber, Like Death that lugubriously unfolds Her black wings of death and slaughter.

Toward the troops of an impious race Like a lion he dashes eagerly; As the radiant sun to the new-born day With him goes Don Diego anxiously.

Thus like the fleeing fugitive stag Evading the fleeting arrow The haughty heart so filled with fright, The Prophet's armies away go.

But not so the ferocious cavalry, As shield its breast it exposes, With gallantry it awaits the fight To attack with utter harshness.

Boabdil encourages his hordes With wrath and savage fury: His anguish on his face he shows With grit to the fleeing men speaks he:

-92-

"To where art thou led, Oh, Trickless Moors, By the fear thee blinds and chases?

From whom do thee flee? With whom, hapless men, The stout heart to fight refuses?"

Said he; and with menace the trumpet sounds; Ours arrive and start the fighting, And everywhere is heard alone Of flashing steel the rattling.

Don Alonso Aguilar attacks Them on one flank furious battle.

He wounds, beheads, devastates, and assaults . As a wolf does, the timid cattle.

Alas! The Muslim, stubborn and cruel Implores his Prophet vainly While against the Christians noble and strong, The spear and the rein tightens he..

Amidst the fiery tumult of war There did the commander brave die: Into pieces broke : helmets, spears; And horses on the ground lie.

His soldiers now terrified and tired Flee before the Christian victors; Just as away the timorous dear Run as the lion brave roars.

When the King, abandoned, finds himself And seeing escape isn't too soon, He gets down his horses terrified, And hides in the woods like a poltroon.

Two unconquered Christians found him; And by royal symbols detected, Instantly to Don Diego him they took Like a royal captive defeated.

There at Lucena the Christians' God Humbled down the arrogant's power Who wanted to tie with a heavy chain The Spaniard as downcast pris'ner.

-93-

12. TRIUMPHAL ENTRY OF THE CATHOLIC KINGS IN GRANADA

Young Rizal's predilection for historical subjects for his poetic compositions is again manifest in this poem which bears the date, 3 December 1876. He was then in his senior year at the Ateneo Municipal de Manila.

'Twas a quiet and gloomy night Whose mem'ry hurts the heart, A night ago in which the Muslim King Treads the Alhambra's beautiful floor.

The face pale, loose his hair, Tired eyes of frigid gaze, Head low, recllmbent his face, The sad Muslim looks at his palaces.

The Muslim looks at them and abundant tears Bathe his eyes, a-flowing down his cheeks, And to the ceiling gilt and arabesque He turns again his weary gaze.

Sand and tearful he remembers then The Muslim exploits and the glorious jousts; And com paring the present ills With the combats of past days, "Goodbye, Alhambra," he says; "Alhambra, goodbye, Abode of joy and abundant happiness; Goodbye, palace full of pleasures, Inexhaustible fountain of delight.

Sad I leave you and now I'm going To cruel exile, of hardships full, In order not to see your towers high, Your fountains clear and rich abodes."

He said; and moaning the costly habiliments Of the gilded apartments he removes; And of its beautiful decorations stripped The huge halls, sad he withdraws, And in the silence of the night

-94-

When the luckless Arabs were asleep, When only the hissing of the winds Through the peaceful city could be heard; And crossing the streets Of that now forsaken realm, Pale and petrified Bathed in mortal sweat; Only lamentations deep Were heard everywhere, And some doleful voice Thrown in its wild com plaint.

The king stopped; the towers he saw; He contemplated those walls; The bottles remembered he That he waged in happy times; But he could not control himself And he lowered his gazed to the ground And mournfully said As he bends his head: "Alas! Granada what happened to you?

What became of your nights?

Alas! Where do your warriors sleep That your anguish they don't see?

Indeed! I your unhappy King, To the Libyan desert lands Hurled and with chains By fate I also go.

"Today I lose everything, everything, Kingdom, palace, treasure And so alone I sadly weep What cruel grief prepares for me; There was a time when your tow'rs Preponderantly ruled And they were the havoc and dread Of squadrons in front."

He said; and the squadrons he sees Commanded by Talavera, As he waves the flag Of Christian religion;

-95-

That by royal order the forts They were going to occupy And to take possession of The Alhambra and its rooms.

And to Fernando Talavera Who rules the knights V\lith respect addresses himself The unfortunate Boabdil; And in manner like this speaks to him With mournful stress, Into cruel anguish plunged In a thousand anxieties submerged: "Go my lord, go immediately To take hold of those abodes By the great Almighty reserved For your powerful King; Allah chastises the Moors; Strip them of their property; From their ~ountry he throws them out For they did not keep h 's law."

He said no more; on his way The Mohammedan proceeds And behind goes his faithful band In silence and with grief.

Aback they didn't turn their gaze To contemplate their ground, For affliction perhaps would strike Them with greater vehemence.

And in the distance they see The Christians' camp did show Signs of contentment and joy Upon seeing the celestial Cross That on the Alhambra is displayed When the city was overrun; And 'twas the primary sign Of the race that was subdued.

Arid th' unhappy Monarch hears The voice of "Long live Castille!"

And he sees on their knees -96-

The Spanish Combatants; And from the trumpets he hears Triumphal harmonies.

And the brilliant helmets he sees The bright sun shining on them.

His footsteps then he turns Toward King Fernando Who advances ordering His troops with majesty; And as he nears the King, The Moor gives to him the keys, The only treasure and sign Of the Mohammedan pow'r.

"See there," Boabdil says to him, What I can offer you, And the only thing left to me, Of the Arabic domain; My kingdom, trophies, men, Fields, houses, ictories, Exalted honors, tow'rs And gardens all. now are yours."

1

Boabdil thus did speak; And having paid his respect From that place he withdraws A thousand ills he saw; Continuing his slow pace His warriors sending forth A thousand doleful groans As they leave the fair GeniI. Now, the warlike clarion Of Fernando sounds th' entry In Granada lovely and fair, Now Christian with no infidel; The captives of the defeated Moor, Who sadly were dragging chains And suff'ring torments and pains With joy came to Isabel.

-97-

Like long-suff'ring warriors brave The clement King greets them, His gladness showing on his face 'Cause from evil he saw them freed; And the Queen abundant alms Distributes with benevolent hand; That Queen who's always of God Ought to wear immortal crown.

And as the Muslims hear The cries of festivity, Sonorous beating of drums, And the singing of delight, They lamented their fate, The glQry they have lost, Their race that was subdued, Their country without peer.

Their mournful groans They care~lly hide, Their tearful pray'rs, To be heard they fear Would augment the pride Of that victory That causes their woe.

Now the flag of Spain Proudly waves o'er the walls Of noble Granada now secure!

Now the Catholic Kings From their seat opulent Will decree wise laws For the children of GeniI. Now delightful Granada, proud Is Christians' dwelling place And Granada belongs To the faithful populace.

Now from Heaven God looks down With joy the beautiful tow'rs And merlons all full' Of Trophies and laurel.

3 December 1876.

-98-

13. COLUMBUS AND JOHN II

An epic poem by Rizal celebrating the loyalty of Columbus to Isabella the Catholic of Spain.

"Christopher, to you, fame, And immortal crown and great renown Homage history pays!

Your august name reaches Posterity and is amazed.

"Blesses you the world In canticles of love and contentment All that Lusitania Holds proclaim instantly Your faith's noble valor.

"Who, like you, is gentle, Constant, resigned, and gen'rous?

Conquered thou the dreadful Fury of the wavy sea And the cowardly, treach'rous manner.

"Hail, illustrious Adm'ral, Firm of heart, fiery in the fight; To your constant valor Kindly today I offer Castles and honors together.

-!)9-

"I, your voice I shall be To proclaim before my standards Viceroy of good graces And above the towers I shall put your name ,in royal flags."

Thus did speak the sov'reign, Portugal's Juan the enlightened.

Glory great beforehand And the highest post in his palace Offers he the veteran.

But . . . hurriedly he flees Columbus from the treach'rous deceiver Of the palace ambitious; Runs he, flies to where dwells Isabel the Christian, his benefactress.

}

-100-

14. GREAT SOLACE IN THE GREATEST MISFORTUNE

Bearing Rizal's signature as Prefect of the Academy of Spanish Literature at the end, it is a legend, believed to have been com路 posed about the year 1887. It belongs therefore to his student days when he assiduously cultivated the Muses.

Hardly the shining Phoebus Dyed the clouds with scarlet Morning now is peeping With delightful freshness; When the bicolored standard Of Castilla shows up Upright in the matutinal air On a fragil floating craft.

The great Admiral Columbus Of the Spanish nation, It is he who waves the flag In the wind on the high sea, And, the ship goes a-gliding Over the waters crystalline His subalterns did want to reach Very quickly the mines of gold.

On his way he visits The great Cacique courteous and kind, Th' Admiral contemplates To return it with love, And th' arrogant Cacique Offers him from his treasure A colossal bar of gold, Gift of infinite value.

-101-

It was night and to common repose

Thinking not of the day's hardships, The ship's brave men gave themselves.

Only one youth did keep watch.

Thrice the frightening silence Calls him to a soft pleasant sleep; And three times the fleet with skill Through the wide sea directed he. . . .

Yielded he at last . . . In sorry abandon Alas, he leaves the ship! . . . Cruel mishap!

To inexpert hands entrusting Castile's name and greatness.

And in the meantime Breakers Impetuous Sounded,

And the ship to the Shoal Wild Ran.

At the repeated blow of breakers, Rises instantly Columbus, Knows he the trouble: shouts he disturbed.

Come to him hi men and seeing him are shocked: What confusion! ... What voices! . . . Grating noise Heard everywhere!. .. The fleet is advancing To the sandbank; all persist in fighting, If asleep they're dreaming, some are in doubt.

Only Columbus, like resounding thunder, In the midst of the frightful night, Raises his voice, serenely he throws To the water a boat, with majestic words Gives he the order . . . but soon the ship Full of men who're fleeing shamefully: He alone is animated, firmly hope~; Fights he and fights again with cruel death.

Vain were the efforts, and science 'Gainst the furious liquid element Offers weak resistance in vain To the violent, deathly push., And Columbus already knows the impotence.

"Here you have us!" sounds at that moment, More harmonious than the cry of vict'ry And the trumpet of acclaiming glory.

-102-

This is Vicente Yanez, who, condemning The repugnant perfidy of the rest, Places all the men at his command On the side of Columbus with gallantry.

While the water keeps on coming Into the ship that weak already is sinking.

And while the boat is torn to pieces, Heartless death is threatening them.

Columbus tries To save his men And with sadness sees His ship being lost; To leave her he doesn't want And, exhales a moan Like the bee that has lost Its pleasure sweet.

Now sadly he looks At his ship without men . . .

And suff'ring, alone He found himself ...

His tender gaze Around does turn With grief he weeps At his ill luck, exclaimed: "Goodbye, dear ship; Goodbye, you who ploughed through oceans wide From Iberia divine With valor you met A thousand risks Obedient to my command, Alas, mitigate the woes of my soul! .. _ -103-

"W ith sadness I look at you And seeing your remains Afflicted 1 heave a sigh!

Like the lamentable fates They spoiled your handsomeness!

Are you, may I surmise The ship that in happy days Your bravery you showed, And protected by pow'r divine You did resist with pride The hurricane and confused whirlwind? ..

"How can I return to the Spanish shores Without my Santa Maria? oh heaven merciful and just!

How can I give the news Of this conquered fertile land, If in the waves you're submerged, beloved ship?"

Thus spoke Columbus, and from the bark He hastily moves away Exhaling a sigh, Expression mute of his pains, While tears, as from bitter fount, Drop sadly from his eyes ...

The adverse fate afterwards The veteran couriers With sadness relate At Guacanagari; And his presence occaSIOns applause.

And the Cacique Invented other Fantastic games Delightful; And Christophel' U pan hearing the noisy shouts And the jubilation, Concluded: Instantly he orders his soldiers That they show the crack of the cannon.

The Cacique with his men was frightened On hearing such strong and warlike sound.

-104-

And they went toward the nearby woods Inhabited ne'er by any mortal, While ready the Indians look surprised At sight of the martial contest.

At the rhythmic crack of the cannon They all sadly thought that they'd perish; Those who cannot flee to the ground fall; The rest of the Indians away ran.

And later the Spaniards opened fire vVith harquebusses with equal adeptness, Infusing within the Indians' breasts Mute surprise, penicky extreme fear.

With valor unequalled they did later show A simulated contests with side-arms While very much satisfied the Indians Clapped their bands ceaselessly . shouting.

After such acclamations Th' Admiral prepares To depart And he wished to leave Many men behind On the beautiful isle.

Him to safeguard Strong wall raise they That surrounds his home, And they nail the flag Of the Spanish nation On ' the rampart.

-105-

)

15. HEROISM

Two fragments of an epic poem by Rizal.

The first three stanzas are in royal octaves while the fourth is mutilated with only the first two hendecasyllables remaining. Another page of the MS contains three stanzas and the beginning of the fourth.

Oh tell me, celestial Muse, who in the mind Of Columbus infused a breath sublime, Invested with noble courage and faith, To plough the. seas of the West?

Who gave him brav'ry when imposing The sea was angered, the wind roared, That in his rage the bad angel called Against the sons of faithful Spain?

In the midst of solemn tranquility When languid earth was asleep, And the moon its trembling disc Through the diaphanous sky did steer, A man contemplates the wavy sea . . .

Seen painted on his smiling face So magnificent clemency's pow'r Exuding kindness and intelligence.

The curly whitish waves of the sea That bathe the spreading shore, Like silver reflect the white light To the soft breath of perfumed breeze; And while from the shadows strange Around danced winged multitude, An old man, furious, fierce and grave Fantastic rose from the sea profound.

-106-

He holds firm in his strong right hand A heavy trident aflame ...

"And your audacious heart hopes to subdue The fierce sea's terrible rage That when the fiery tempest roars In mass it rises gloomy and grave?

Oh! Who could calmly contemplate The iron cold of bloody fate, That the roar of the wind which resounds In the abyss a sad tomb opes?

"What lies beyond? Only death, The dark sea that dreadfully terrifies And infuses fear in the stoutest heart, Where at each Jnstant darkly appears The tempest, with the mariner in doubt How to guide his ship in such calamity; And the waters bury him in the depth Where a thousand horrible monsters hide.

"But, alas, poor you! Alas, unhappy Spain, If you run in search of lands remote!

I will excite the north wind's rage And the hatred cruel of all that the ocean holds ...

And ere you step on the foreign shores, War and discord I'll put within your ship; And I'll not rest until I see your ruin, If divine protection saves you not ...

"Hush, deceitful monster, with son'rous voice Christopher answers him, ignorance . . . "

-107-

16. TO THE PHILIPPINE YOUTH

This is Rizal's winning entry in the literary contest spons.ored by the Liceo Artistico Literario de Manila in 1879. He encourages the Filipino youth to unfold and cultivate its artistic talents, calling it Bella esperanza de la Patria mia, now an oftquoted phrase.

Unfold, oh timid flower!

Lift up your radiant row, This day, Y01; th of my native strand!

Your abounding talents /show Resplendently and grand, Fair hope of my Motherland!

Soar high, oh genius great~ And with noble thoughts fill their mind; The honor's glorious seat, May their virgin mind fly and find More rapidly than the wind.

Descend with the pleasing light Of the arts and sciences to the plain, Oh Youth, and break forthright The links of the heavy chain That your poetic genius enchain.

See that in the ardent zone, The Spaniard, where shadows stand, Doth offer a shining crown, With wise and merciful hand To the son of this Indian land.

-108-

You, who heavenward rise On wings of your rich fantasy, Seek in the 0 lym pian skies The tenderest poesy, More sweet than divine honey; You, of heavenly harmony, On a calm unperturbed night, Philomel's match in melody, That in varied symphony Dissipate man's sorrow's blight; . . You, at th' impulse of your mind The hard rock animate And your mind with great pow'r consigned Transforms into immortal state The pure mem'ry of genius great; And you, who with magic brush On canvas plain capture The varied char~ of Phoebus, Loved by the divine Apelles, And the mantle of Nature; Run! For genius' sacred flame Awaits the artist's crowning Spreading far and wide the fame Throughout the sphere proclaiming With trumpet the mortal's name.

Oh, joyful, joyful day, For you, fair Philippines!

The Almighty blessed be Who, with loving eagerness Sends you luck and happiness.

-109-

17 . . ABD-EL-AZIS AND MOHAMMED

Another historical subject inspires Rizal to compose the following epic poem. It recalls the struggle between the Spaniards and the Moors in Spain.

It was night: the moaning wind

Sighs as it kisses the towers tall And on its wings carries mournfully Thousands of confused noises agitating the space.

A weful clouds bedim the peace Of the dark night's beautiful star, And a soft tint like a mantle of snow Covers the fields that the Spaniard treads.

There, from the tall Moorish tow'r Sings the owl on th' imposing peak, Numberless evils and bloody fights With fatidical accent foretells.

In the meanwhile on the soft bed That the luxurious Moor makes of ivory, "Rest doth seek the weary, brave Abd-EI-Azis, Pleasant relief from the bygone- day.

Th' incense mild in silver tripods That th' Arabian bark distills, Burns and spreads intoxicating scent, Of the sumptuous chamb~r soft delight.

Everything is silent: everyone sleeps; Only the sorrowful Moor keeps guard, Contem plates the light that sadly Penetrates through th' elegant arch.

But so sudden he beholds outlined Dubious shadow that in the gentle light Agitates him for a time, and his sullen face Masculine contour acquires.

-110-

With a white turban covered in his head, Animates his countenance a lengthy beard, From his belt a curved cutlass hangs Horribly dripping with ardent blood.

Like the mournful sound of hollow bronze That deplores the agony of man, Thus the sepulchral silence his voice Ruffles, and the fatidical vision the Moor.

"Alas! Alas! It tells him, and resounded profound Th' echo of his voice calm and cold, Terrible echo that touches the soul, Like the remembrance of a friendly voice.

"Alas, poor me! Pity the nation brave That the sandy Lybia saw on her breast! .

Alas, poor Koran, sacred patrimony That to the Muslim Allah once bequeathed!

Vainly did you conquer the flags Of the Pow'rful Christian of Guadalete On the green banks, for again Raises he rebellious his captive head.

Pelayo, the great Pelayo, the noble Goth, The illustrious son of fierce Favila, On the hard rocks of Covadonga Fights the forces of the Moor.

The Cross, the Cross, insignia idolized, Follows its army that to conquer aspires: Mary goes with them; with her cloak Shelters she with love the bodies weak.

But don't fear, for triumphant ever be Will the Muslim in the combat crude, And of no avail her protection would be For only God helps the faithful with his arm.

But alas! If you sleep in the arms of delight And my heavenly precepts you ignore The throne that sustained Tarif will fall To the rough blow of the sword profane; -111-

Like the overflowing river your blood Will inundate the vales and fields And the flourishing Iberia's ground Th' Arab's cold tomb will become; And in numberless battles in eternal war, Into your breasts will plunge The proud Spaniard's knife, and the vile dust Like the accursed .serpent you'll bite; And you'll yield the ground inch by inch Fertilized by your blessed blood; The weak women and children slaves will be In their sad affliction; Hurled again to the desert cruel, Bitter tears for peace that was lost You will shed, and in shameful torment You will count the days of your return.

And rejoicipg proudly at your distress In their perfidy a thousand ships will arm, And the beautiful ground where I rest in peace They will thre,aten with fury never seen.

Arm yourself! Run! Quickly fly!

Cast your veteran army with the fight And to the wind let the son'rous trumpet release Warlike accent, to glory a toast.

Trembles the ground beneath the saddle light Of the fiery steed that Arabia breeds And like showy murex in burning red Infidel blood tints your scimitar.

Before the Moon that my insignia displays Make the Cross its fortress yield, And forever victorious may they shine The beneficent doctrines of the Koran."

Said he; and like a lightly rising smoke That a strong wind rapidly dissipates, Thus disappeared the terrible fright That the vision divine caused the Moor.

8 December 1879.

-112-

18. TO THE PHILIPPlNES

Rizal wrote the original sonnet in Spanish in the album of Filipino sculptors.

Aglowing and fair like a houri on high, Full of grace and pure like the Morn that peeps When in the sky the clouds are tinted blue, Of th' Indian land, a goddess sleeps.

The light foam of the son'rous sea Doth kiss her feet with loving desire; The cultured West adores her smile And the frosty Pole her flow'red attire.

With tenderness, stammering, my Muse To her 'midst undines and naiads does sing; I offer her my fortune and bliss: Oh, artists! her brow chaste ring With myrtle green and roses red And lilies, and extol the Philippines!

-113-

19. TO THE VIRGIN MARY

Rizal dedicates this sonnet to the Virgin Mary venerated by all Catholics..

Mary, sweet peace, solace dear Of pained mortal! You're the fount Whence emanates the stream of succour, That without cease our soil fructifies.

From thy trone, from heaven high, Kindly hear my sorrowful cry!

And may thy shining veil protect My voice that rises with rapid flight.

Thou art my Mother, Mary, pure; Thou'll be the fortress of my life; Thou'll be my guide on this angry sea.

If ferociously vice pursues me, If in my pains death harasses me, Help me, and drive away my woes!

-114-

20. BESIDE THE PASIG

A one-act play in verse written by Rizal in 1880 when he was president of the Academia de La Literatura Castellana of the Ateneo Municipal, using Philippine scenery for the setting. The partakers being children, the dialogue is puerile, but Rizal is able to inject at a certain point some serious thoughts, as for instance, in these lines: "This rich country then enjoyed / A v ery happy age, / T.hat in its delight w as like heav'n; / And now dev oid of joy. / Sadl:y groans beneath the pow'r / Of stranger s and slowly dies / In the impious hands of Spain!"

They contrast the condition of these Islands before and after the establishment of Spain's rule.

PERSONAE:

Leonido, Candido, Pascual (all children); chorus of boys, of devils, etc.

(The action takes place on the banks of the Pasig, in the town of this name; the decoration represents the river and the opposite bank where the personages are. Visible are the church, houses, bamboo groves, and numerous flags and decorations typical of Philippine towns. The time is dawn, and consequently the lighting should be soft.)

SCENE I

Candido, Pascual, and other children. (One of them carries flowers, others flags and toys proper to children.)

CHORUS Carnations and roses, Pleasant Pasig~ With a thousand galas shines; Divine aurora, -115-

Her beautiful sky Is dressed with exquisite light, Her eyes are divine, Her brow of roseate hue, Her purple lips Make the breast burn; To you, oh, beauty sweet, The mind certainly goes; In you, rich luck The soul will have.

(To be recited) I

CANDIDO.

How beautiful is the morn!

Aurora with her lights Is caressing the flow'rs Which embellish the mead.

The Pasig! Do you hear On its banks the bamboos murmur?

Do you hear of the little bird The cooing varied and soft?

You tell me: So much beauty) So much orn ment, elegance, That with magic Nature displays; And that quiet running stream O'er which the bancas glide, Do they not enchant and charm you With their language eloquent?

Don't they tell that their contentment By the holy Virgin's inspired?

Living on this day With pompous magnificence?

ALL.

Undoubtedly!

P ASCU AL.

Such merriment In the town prevails, Such is the pleasure she inspires, That all are dancing with joy.

Full I found everywhere Of beautiful accoutrements The streets; old and young All come out to see.

-116-

BOY I.

You speak correctly, Pascual, And I believe it! For the populace Do impatiently Hang pennants and flags.

BOY II.

A little basket here I bring Of flow'rs to present To the Virgin . ..

BOY I.

Bravo! Let us see . .

It is a simple gift . . . (He looks at it with scorn.)

I have a cage at home In which live mottled birds, \Vhose trills are so soft That to her I'll give, if she passes by.

BOY III.

Little birds! How absurd!

I've firecrackers, rockets too .

(Boastfully)

BOY I.

Get out! Those are toys That only inspire dread! .

BOY III.

You are afraid!

BOY I.

I? No!

PASCUAL.

I have a bamboo flute ... (All laugh.)

ALL.

Ha! Ha!

PASCUAL.

The thing surprises you?

Indeed! That I will play!

My father, as you know, Has taught me various tunes, Oh pretty, very pretty, very pleasing!

I'll play them; you'll see!

BOY II.

My flowers better will be!

PASCUAL.

My flute!

-117-

BOY I.

How silly!

My cage is better .

BOY III.

Oh no! Firecrackers are better.

BOY I.

No, sir!

BOY III.

Yes, sir!

BOY I.

What a fool!

BOY III.

How crazy!

Your poor cage is too small.

BOY I.

Your firecrackers are the worst.

I

CANDIDO.

Well then, don't quarrel, friends: Of value's every gift; But one thing I beg of you, That . . . willingly to me you lists: A banca we'll adorn With fairest decoration In It and in this stream Smoothly we shall sail on.

Flags and pennants, we shall put On it, of a thousand tints.

You'll carryall your flow'rs; You . . . bring the cage; you, firecrackers; This one with sonorous flute, Will go at the same time playing: Th us sailing we shall go Until the lady we see.

What do you think?

ALL.

Good, very good!

BOY III.

It's a singular idea!

BOY I.

Let us look for a banca!

I

CANDIDO.

That also is what I say. (They get ready to go.)

Stop! And Leonido? Where is he?

-118-

PASCUAL.

0 h, yes! Where did he go?

BOY II.

Where did he go?

BOY III.

I do not know.

, CANDIDO.

Very well, we look for him: We shall leave our banca Meanwhile: It is the same; We lack the principal thing, For we have no chief.

BOY I.

Let us look for him.

CANDIDO.

Right now!

Without him there's naught That can be done! . . .

BOY III.

Every place will be searched E3' en the bottom of the abyss!

,

CHORUS

Let's go, let's go, Let's go without delay: Joyous is our recreation!

Mary this will bless!

SCENE II Satan dressed in black and red; he is pale.

SATAN.

Can it be true? Can it be true That the people that worshipped me Now has arrived In safety at the port?

If it's an unskilled navigator On the stormy sea Of life, what singular force Protects and shields it That succeeds with its help To avoid my reefs?

-119-

Who's the powerful Who had taken it from the somber abode Where buried it was To the bright light of day?

Alas! To the bad fate of mine You're the one, oh woman, no doubt, Who had so much pow'r To take away my dwelling place!

Privileged creature!

When shall I be able to vanquished you?

Curse! . . . A vernus itself Wherein are engendered griefs, Cruel penalties and dreads, Doesn't equal my endless weariness.

Alas! Why did my dismal fate Deprive me of tender joy?

Wl1y did the strongest me deny That in my bitterness severe I should find m~ fate In th arms of Death?

Spirit! Being sublime!

A being hapless and miserable, To suffer condemned By the hand that oppresses him!

If man groans on earth And living bothers him, He takes solace in suffering, As he sees that life is short, While the Angel does not dare To await that he die!

But, alas! By force, long-suffering, I should respect my sad destiny, Since in my matchless fight Adverse luck I had: However, though I was subdued, I continue on my fatal path: He loves the good; I love the bad .

Arrogant! . . . Let him do what he wants; I, I'm going to disturb him; it's just; For he's my mortal foe.

- 120-

Begin then our fight!

We think of regaining first My matchless empire With astuteness or perfidy.

Earth, I envy you!

Alas! . . . I'll recover you!

Here hidden I'll wait (He hides behind a tree.)

For some Christian unaware; I wish that the race I hate So much into my hand may fall.

SCENE III

,

, LEONIDO.

LEONIDO The bank is solitary; The shouting is not heard; It is strange: The day is now bright Apd I see no one here.

They must have arrived For thus they promised me . . .

I presume they already have left.

Who knows if I'm lost?

But no: This is the path That leads to the town; This is the river that sports Its current without peer . . .

There the church . . . My house The flags . . . Oh, yes!

It is the recreation place That Pascual told me about!

From here we would wait For the Virgin pure to pass .

But . . . Who can tell me Why they do not come out?

It is better to look for them.

I shall go down; no, up ...

I believe the retinue Will not be long in coming.

(He gets ready to go and Satan comes dressed as a Diwata.)

-121-

SCENE IV

, LEONIDO AND SATAN

SATAN.

Halt! Where are you going?

LEONIDO.

Who are you?

SA TAN.

Don't you already know me?

LEONIDO.

I don't remember your face, Nor do I remember seeing you Even once. Let me pass!

SAT AN.

I'm that one who, very powerful, Gives laws to the hurricane, sea, fire; I shine in lightning and in torrent roar; I'm that one who with great pow'r ~eigned one beautiful time, ~evered and feared; God absolute of the Indian populace.

,

,

, LEONIDO.

Yo lie! My ancestors' god In shameful oblivion now sleeps.

On their altars crude, Where to the voice of fatidical praises They offer victims by the thousands Now lay in ruins: To their pow'r in decline Our tongue hurls them Contempt for their forgotten rituals: You are no god; you lie without doubt, For only one true God exists: The God who created man And the whole world and whom Our rude people adore.

SATAN.

You fool! Aren't you afraid Impious child, of my anger's pow'r?

Don't you know that mine are the air You breathe, the sun, the flow'rs And the undulating stream?

At my powerful voice that creates -122-

, LEONIDO.

From beneath the waters emerged These isles lit by the mornIsles that once were beautiful; And while faithful to my holy cult On my altars their prayers they raised, I saved them a thousand times From hunger, from fright, from death.

The fields everywhere abound With verdure scented sweet.

Without labor they produced Out of the merciful earth, Then pure, the yellow yields; O'er the meadow wandering Are the mottled kids, the fleet Stags and the cattle fat; The diligent bee Quietly made its hive, And offered to man honey sweet; The crow at rest in its nest A painful, detestable CaJamity augured not; This rich country then enjoyed So v-ery happy age, That in its delights was like heav'n; And now devoid of joy, Sadly groans beneath the pow'r Of strangers and slowly dies In the impious hands of Spain!

However, I'll liberate her, if she'll Bend her knee Before my cult that brilliantly shines.

So powerful am I that right now I'll give you, if you worship me, all you desire; But, woe to you! If blind you distrust!

For I'll open at your feet the deep abyss!

If you're so powerful, if in your hands

Are the mortals' destinies, Why the Christians to you Had been calamitous?

-123-

And if, as you say, the sea untamed And the north wind meekly obey Your voice and your authority, Why were their frail caravels That now ridicule you, Not submerged, And under the waves entombed, Why did your stars Guide them in the gloomy night And the wind pushed their sails And you did not hurl your lightning at them?

Are you for that perhaps omnipotent, And for greater misfortune still The name of Mary, A name that enchants the unhappy mind, Like a proud insult, Came to destroy the traces of your cult!

SATAN.

The traces of my cult! Unfortunate!

DON't you know that I still have A people that prostrate adore me?

Alas! . .. In the future will come The evils that I reserve Fo! your raCe that acclaims a cult Impure: Sad calamities, Plagues, wars, and invasions cruel Of diverse nations In the ages coming near!

Your people will sprinkle with blood and tears The parched sand of the fields of the native land; Then on the pleasant mead Will not sing its songs The bird that burning metal did wound, Nor your age-laden woods, Nor your rivers, the valley, the spring

-124-

Will now be respected by odious men Who disturbed your peace and your prosperity; While I, for revenge, I'll unleash the savage winds So that in their course, With anger and savage turbulence, Disturb the various elements, And the frail pirogue That goes down beneath the sea, Add to their horrible sufferings.

In my rage I'll devastate The green fields of abundant yields, And from the high peak of the mountain steep Streams of burning lava I'll hurl That covered with smoke and devouring flame 'fowns devastate Like furious torrent That, when it spreads Will uproot shrubs by heaps, And the stiffened land, At my excited voice, Will tremble with atrocious quakes, And at every movement the fertile ground And life all threatened will be.

Alas! Alas! What a great loss !

How much futile groaning! How much crying I shall hear then without My feeling the people's grief, At whom with insolent joy I look laughing with mortal wrath!

I

LEONIDO.

A lie! There's naught you can do!

I conjure you, in the name of the Lord That my soul adores, to tell me who you are!

Seraphim or genius foul, -125-

Who wishes to seduce me Remove the mask that the figure doth change Of your original in infernal form!

SATAN.

Well then! Here I am now!

And mark and note That I'm Satan, the angel who (In the devil's attire) Resplendent sat on a throne In the remote past.

With rays of light departing from his brow.

I'm that one who with ferocious ill-will Against the tyrant fought; Then vanquished, in my fatal defeat I dragged your ancestors to death, But now, if the faith divine Of the Christian in. my fury defeated me, Such mortal offense I ~hall avenge, and of you; I'm the strong; And if you don't want to die, Surrender at my feet!

I

LEONIDO.

Oh! Never!

SATAN.

See my pow'r and my strength?

The pow'rful spirits that rule O'er the universe obey my voice: They follow my famous flag; Now listen to me: If humbly your new sect you abjure, And repentant you come To my altar with pleasing zeal, I'll make you happy, prosperous, And you'll have whate'er you crave; The river that flows at your feet, That along drags diamonds, pearls; The air that you breathe, -126-

Where a thousand little birds fJy; Those plants, those flow'rs, Those houses and orchards They'll be yours if right away Your new faith you disown; If you abhor the unpleasing name Of the One for whom this gaiety is.

But, woe to you! If obstinately You long to disobey me, For at your feet right now The earth will ope, In its bosom burying you, Just as buried in the sand is The water's little drop When the sun dries the plants.

, LEONIDO.

In vain you wish to instill in me Stupid fear with your tongue ; In vain., in vain, you pretend That I submit to your faith; Ne'er is the Christian child By. the deviJ. cowed, An<l before Mary's Child The eternal Avernus shakes with fear.

Mendacious spirit!

Go, flee, go to he1l To the mansion of grief And of eternal shame! ...

1

SATAN.

Well then! Since you want it, It's necessary that you die: You'll be the last sacrifice That before my altars will burn; For your people you'll pay, In you I'll avenge my affront.

Spirits! My fajthful horde, Who finds pleasant sweetness in evil deeds, That with cruel bitterness You're nourished by hatred in your soul, Come gladly to begin the war!

-127-

SCENE V Devils in a throng come out

CHORUS OF DEVILS

Who's calling us Frantically?

Who demand Our ardor?

Long live The infernal world, Whose happiness Is evil!

Death, death To the traitor be, Of th' Avernus Offender!

SATAN.

Come content, List attentive; My voice Calls you now; That on this day Our hope Sweet revenge Now will fulfill.

CHORUS OF DEVILS

The Devil Loves his king; His orders Are his laws; Obedient They'll follow; For you, all Will fight.

-128-

SATAN.

, LEONIDO.

The insult stop; Return to my cult, Unhappy boy, Full of eagerness: Come and bless My image pure, For fortune Will smile at you.

I detest you, Despicable traitor; To God alone I give my love; While I live I'll be faithful; To die wish I For Him. DEVILS' CHORUS

Long live o r king!

Death, death To him whom his law Does not respect With ardor, Of life With horror!

SCENE VI

An Angel

ANGEL.

Aback, angels accursed Of Heaven's wrath!

Your swift flight turn To the mansion of grief!

You flee, if you fear The funeral glow of lightning bright!

You flee, perverted head!

-129-

You flee, oh Archangel traitorous!

(The devils flee) And you, faithful child, awake. (he awakes.)

Here come, of Heaven I'm sent Of Heaven who saved You from Satan perfidious: Already the Virgin of Antipolo The waters of the river ploughs; Salute her in pious song, For always her son you'll be.

With mercy she saved you From the Avernus' grips; Be to her the most affectionate son, For happiness she brings along ...

Now your companion~ do come Who're eagerly looking for you: Goodbye then; to Heaven I'll return.

Goodbye Leonido, goodbye! (He disappears. ) I

LEONIDO.

Goodbye, beautiful creature, Who came to succour me; Keep watch if the child Sleeps the childish sleep.

LAST SCENE

Leonido and the Boys. The Virgin passes on the river a few moments after the conclusion of the recitation.

I

CANDIDO.

Ah, Leonido! We're looking for you; Here is the Virgin Mary: Do you feel the harmony sweet That is heard among a thousand songs?

I

LEONIDO.

Oh, yes, friend!; that I perceive; I see her coming too ...

Oh! What secret joy Do I feel within me!

-130-

Our voices let us join On this happy day; The Virgin let us salute ...

What do you say, friends?

ALL.

Yes! (The Virgin appears lighted.)

FINAL CHORUS

Hail! Rose pure, Queen of the sea, Hail! White star, Faithful Mediatrix of Peace ...

Antipolo, For Thee only Will have fame and renown; From the evils, We mortals, Your image will save us; Your love From evil always keeps The faithful child, Day and night You guide him On the earthly road.

-131-

21. BIRTHDAY GREETINGS TO THE V E R Y REVEREND FATHER PABLO RAMON, S.J.

An abiding affection bound Rizal to some of his professors at the Ateneo Municipal.

One of them was Father Pablo Ramon whom he greeted on his birthday with the following poem.

Sweet is the breeze that at the break of dawn The calyx of fragrant flowers shakes, Alluring odors soft they spread O'er the countryside; The placid murmur is sweet and soft Of the gentle rivulet that with joy Throws silv'ry foam on sands of gold And drops of water white; Sweet are the trills of musical birds Soft is th' aroma of motley flow'rs And the p.erfumes of th' aurora white Mellow and sweet; But your name, oh, Father idolized, Instills the purest joy in our breast, Whence it diffuses most mellow rays Of eternal glow.

-132-

The Almighty's hand affectionate You show us, Father, whose love sincere Throughout the bitter road of life Does guide us with love.

Alas! What will become of youthful toil That restlessly burns in our breast, Without the guidance or your kind hand, Your love, your zeal?

We're, Father, your sons; you do guide us To the homes of eternal happiness.

The mind will not be disturbed by fri.ght With a pilot like you.

The great Apostle whose name you bear, Whose footsteps with enthusiasm you trail, With heavenly favor shower you, A sacred treasure.

25 January 1881

-133-

22. THEY ASK ME FOR VERSES

Written at the request of the Filipinos who formed the Circulo hispano-/ilipino at Madrid it was read by the author at a dance given by that Ci?"culo. Romantically the poet recalls his native land whose birds, cascades, spreading shores, and murmuring sea taught him to sing. Under her sky he had left all his illusions, love, enthusiasm.

I

They ask me to play the lyre Mute and bI\oken long ago: Sound a note I no longer do No'ore my Muse doth me inspire!

She lisps, raves, devoid of fire If my mind makes her agonize; When she smiles, she only lies, As lies her lamentation 'Cause in me in my isolation Neither pain nor joy arise.

II

There was a time. .. it's a fact! ...

But that time was gone already, A bard they used to call me By indulgence or friendship's act.

Now of that age that has passed Scarcely a memory remains, As the mysterious refrains Of what are left of a fiesta That only the hearing retains From the bustle of th' orchestra.

-134-

III I'm a plant that hardly did ream Drawn away from out of th' Orient, Where perfumed air is the ambient, Where life is like a dream; Native Isles that to me ever gleam!

There I was taught how to sing By the birds with their constant trilling; By cascades with their murmuring chores; And on its spreading shores, By the sea with its noisy swirling.

IV While in my childhood years At her sun I could keep smiling In my breast I felt a-boiling A volcano with fire that sears; A bard was I 'cause with my verse And breadth I'd say to the swift Wind: "Fly; her greatness lift And forthwith make it known!

Sing it from zone to zone; To the firmament from the earth!"

V

I left her!. .. My native shore, A tree leafless and dry!

It no longer repeats the sigh Of my melodies of yore.

The vast seas I did cross o'er To change my lot was my dream, Which my madness did not seem To note that, instead of the good I sought, the sea with me ploughed With death's apparition grim.

-135-

VI

All of my fair illusion, Love, fervor, eagerness high, Over there are left 'neath the sky Of so flowery a region: Don't you ever ask for a song Of love from the stiffened heart; Because amidst the desert Wherein I roam restlessly, I feel my soul's agony And away my numen did part.

)

-136-

23. TO MISS C. O. y R. This. poem, written at Madrid, 22 August 1883, was dedicated to Miss Consuelo Ortiga y Rey, daughter of the vice president of the Council of the Philippines, Mr. Pablo Ortiga y Rey, whose re路s idence at Madrid was frequented by the Filipinos, including Rizal.

Why ask me for nonsensical lines That, at one time, mad with sorrow, I sang?

Perhaps to cast upon my face My ingratitude, my bitter past?

Why evoke unfortunate memories Now that the heart is hoping to love, Call in the night when Phoebus smiles Not knowing if the next day will shine?

Do you want to know this tedium's cause, Delirium of disgust or of woe?

Do you want to know why so much grief, Why as a young soul I didn't sing of love?

Ignore it forever. For its cause Gives sadness, but it'll make you laugh; With my corpse would go down to the tomb Another corpse entombed in me.

An ambition, a madness, impossible, Dreams of the soul, a passion perhaps .

Drink the nectar that is served in life; Let gall in silence take its rest.

Again I feel the shadows thick That cloak the soul with their mantles dark; Just a bud, if not a beautiful flow'r; For naught it has of air and of light.

There, gather them, poor verses of mine, Cursed offsprings that of sorrow sucked: They know so well to whom they owe Their life, and they will tell you perhaps.

22 August 1883.

-137-

, 24. SONGS OF MARIA CLARA

This poem, which is. found in Noli me tangere, sung by Maria Clara, and hence it is popularly called, "Song of Maria Clara", has a lasting hold on the hearts and minds of the Filipinos for its lyric grace and tender sentiment.

Sweet are the hours in one's own Native Land, All there is friendly o'er which the sun shines above; Vivifying is the breeze that wafts over her fields; Even death is gratifying and more tender is love.

Ardent kisses on a mothJr's lips are at play, On her lap, upon the infant child's awakening, The extended arms do seek her neck to entwine, And the eyes at each other's glimpse are smiling.

It is sweet to die in one's own Native Land, All there is friendly o'er which the sun shines above; And deathly is the breeze for one without A country, without a mother and without love.

-138-

25. TO THE FLOWERS OF HEIDELBERG

Rizal, contemplating the flowers that deck the university town of Heidelberg in spring, was inspired to compose the following poem exuding intense love of his native land.

Wherever he was, his thoughts always turn to his faraway homeland, wishing "Peace to my country with feeund soil,/ To her women virtue, to her men faith."

Go to my country, exotic flow'rs, Sown by the traveler on his path, And 'neath her cerulean skies, That keep my loves in their bow'rs, Tell them about the faith, For his native hlnd, the pilgrim sighs!

Go ye and say . . . say that when the dawn Oped your calyx for the first time, By the frozen Neckar's side, You saw him silent beside You, thinking of your constant springt ime.

Say thou that when the breeze That steals away your scents To you murmurs songs of love a-playing He too was murmuring Songs of romance in his native accents; And when the sun gilds the spire Of Koenigsthul in the morning, And with its tepid fire The vale, woods and thicket animates, He salutes that sun at its beginning Which in his land at zenith fulgurates!

-139-

And tell about that day When I did pick you on the wayside, Amongst the ruins of the feudal castle, On the Neckar bank or woodlands shady; Relate what to you I did tell, When with great care betwixt The pages of an old book I pressed Thy petals flexible.

Bring thou with thee, oh flow'rs!

Love to all my amours, Peace to my country with fecund soil, To her women virtue, to her men faith, To sweet and good beings health That shelters the home holy and paternal .

When upon the shore you alight, The kiss on you I press Place it on the wings of t e breeze That it may go with its flight And kiss all that I love, adore and caress.

But alas! You'll get there, oh flow'rs, Perhaps you'll retain your colors; But far from your native, heroic land To which you owe your life, You'll lose your fragrant odours; 'Cause aroma's the soul, and ne'er leaves the sky, Nor forgets, that saw at birth its light.

- 140 -

26. HYMN TO LABOR

In the following few stanzas Rizal extols man's labor and industry, singing, "Praise to labor / Of the country wealth and vigor."

He exhorts the youth to follow in the footsteps of their industrious elders and thus be worthy of them, for "Incense does not honor the dead / As does a son with glory and valor."

For the Motherland in war, For the Motherland in peace, Will the Filipino keep watch, He will live until life will cease!

MEN: Now the East is glowing with light, Go! To the field to till the land, For the labour of man sustains Fam'ly, home and Motherland.

Hard the land may turn to be, Scorching the rays of the sun above.

For the country, wife and children All will be easy to our love.

-141-

(Chorus) WIVES: Go to work with spirits high, For the wife keeps home faithfully, Inculcates love in her children For virtue, knowledge and country.

When the evening brings repose, On returning joy awaits you, And if fate is adverse, the wife, Shall know the task to continue.

(Chorus) MAIDENS: Hail! Hail! Praise to labour, Of the country, wealth and vigor!

For it brow serene's exalted, It's her blood, life and ardor.

If some youth would show his love Labor his faith will sustain: Only a man who struggles and works Will his offspring know to maintain.

(Chorus) CHILDREN: Teach us ye the laborious work To pursue your footsteps we wish, For tomorrow when country calls us We may be able your task to finish.

And on seeing us the elders will say: "Look, they're worthy 'f their sires of yore!

Incense does not honor the dead As does a son with glory and valor.

-142-

27. TO MY . . . .

Disillusionment, bitterness, reproach, disgust, lamentation characterize this poem written in 1890. The division among the Filipinos in Spain, the failure to obtain reforms from the Spanish government, the troubles at Kalamba inspired him to pour out his feelings in this poetic composition.

No longer invoked is the Muse; Out of fashion the lyre has gone; No poet uses it now . . .

Even deluded youth Is inspired by other things.

Today, if they demand The mind to produce some lines, Helicon is not invoked: The garcon only is asked For a cup of coffee.

And, instead of the sincere zeal That to passion the heart is set, A poem is com posed With a pen of steel, A joke, an irony.

Muse, that in my age past, Inspired me tenderly With lovesongs, go and rest.

At present need I a sword Streams of gold and unpolished prose.

I need to reason out, To meditate and fight; Sometimes I have to weep, For he who loves so much Much also has to endure.

-143-

Gone are the days of calm, Those days of happy loves, When flowers were enough To comfort th' afflicted soul Of its sorrows and its pains.

Departing one by one, From my side all that I love.d; That one is dead, this is wed, Because whatever I touch Ill-luck is stamped by Fate.

Muse! Go! You too flyaway!

Look for a purer clime; For my country promises you Instead of laurels chains, For temple, prison dark.

For if 't is infamous And profane to oppress the truth, Would it not be for me Delirium to keep you near Deprived of liberty?

And, why sing, when Destiny To serious study, calls, When the blowing tempest roars When the Philippines demand In a husky voice for its sons?

And why should I sing if my song Like weeping is its sound That will not move anyone?

When the world is feeling so tired Of another man's great loss?

For what, since among those who Maltreat and criticize me, The soul's dry, the lips are cold, There's not a heart that throbs With the same pulsations as mine?

-144-

Allow to sleep in the abyss Of oblivion all I feel.

It's good it's there! May the breath Not mix it with the rhyme That evaporates with the wind.

As in slumber the monsters are In the bosom of the seas, Let all my sorrows repose, My caprices and my songs, In me also entombed.

So well I know that your gifts You only use to show'r In the youthful age of flow'rs, Of the first blossoming of love, Without clouds and of sorrows none.

Many years have passed away Since you have burnt my brow With kisses :t}{led with fire . .

Those kisses have grown cold And now I've forgotten them.

But, ere you leave say, speak That to your accent sublime I always did respond With a song for those who groan And challenge for those who oppress.

But you will come, inspiration divine, Again to warm my fantasy When faith's gone.. broken is the sword, I cannot die for my motherland . . .

The lyre in mourning you'll hand to me With its strings vibrating an elegy, To sweeten my people's sufferings And to deaden the noise of its chains.

And if victory with laurel crowns Our toils, and united my motherland Comes out like a queen of the ardent zone, A white pearl from the mud redeemed, Then come again and with vigor intone The sacred hymn of the new-born life, And the chorus all of us shall sing, E'en when we're resting in our tombs.

-145-

28. WATER AND FIRE

A very short compos.ition but it expresses the poet's obsession: His native country's advancement.

We're water:, you say: you're fire; As you like it, let it be!

We live in calmness, And ne'er will fire see us fight; Rather joined by wise science In the burning seat of boilers, Without anger) without rage, Let's form the steam, the fifth element, Advancement, life, light, and movement.

- 146 -

29. TO DON RICARDO CARNICERO

Rizal wrote this poem to greet his guardian the Spaniard Ricardo Carnicero on his birthday (26 August), when he was路 an exile at Dapitan.

Today, si'r:, you complete One year since at this sh<I>re For the first t'ime you arrived To become our governor; Since then, with enthusiasm, Incessantly day and night You've toiled for its good; Your zeal made n' oversight, To the people, woods, and seaTo all things give thee life.

Your gaze solicitous When you reached this pleasant strand, Saw this district detached By the mangrove and the sand; Unminding every obstacle O'er muddy Cocytus And with unheard of zeal, O'er untamed riverflow The first bridge you did build In our district none ever saw.

-147-

Arid later, convenient road, You opened wide and secure From the thicket in the woods Beneath a shady bow'r; Libay awoke, and the day Gave light and everywhere Were seen growing maize and palay, And houses emerged where ere Lianas and tow'ring trees Gave birth to many a monster.

The streets of Dapitan that Before on moonless nights Had caused a dismal dread, Now smile with many lights; Work projects all around Unceasing work everywhere: A school here, there a road, The mind is planning there To bring the yvater down From nearby Linaw clear.

Just one full year has passed The towns now aJre full of pep, Dapitan now awakes From lethargy and sleep; And hope that he who began Without doubts and uneasiness, Won't leave until his work The sun shall see it done.

For, if naught frightens him His faith is great in Dapitan.

Before so splendid a dawn Portentous of eminent works To greet you come with joy The young Dapitan folks.

Tomorrow men they shall be Who will work on the land And never will they put In oblivion thankless and mean How much the district owed You for your constant concern.

-

148 -

Rather than commandant and chief Who rules with iron hand, Be always the Spaniard good Loving father of the land; And since at this moment You're the first authority Of people that under the flag Of Spain se~ks shelter loyally Be father to the daughter whose hopes Lie only in her mother country.

And though to what you've done They're mute, inert and cold They know not with vigor great How to gracefully correspond, Deny them not your love For, people simple and poor They have no eloquent voice To express their tenderness, And in their sad fate, the more They keep silent, the mdre they feel.

The greatest of our desires Is that in this foreign land You would find Spain herself With the same sun and sky Let our land be yours too Like your childhooq cradle With kindness teach her work And justice, for if the land Is not Galicia, our love Is well worth a Mifion.

26 August 1892.

-149-

30. THE NEW YEAR

An unfinished poem of Rizal.

From the abyss of time Of eternity immense I'm the New Year, I emerge Now to reign I commence.

-150-

31. MY RETREAT

His lonely life as an exile at Talisay, Dapitan, is the subject of this exquisite poem, written at the insistent request of his mother, who loved poetry. It displays his descriptive power and his gift of imagery and melody.

Though illegally detained there, he betrays no resentment against his oppressors and still hopes that "o'er brutal force Idea would prevail" someday.

Beside the wide expanse of fine and sandy shore And at the foot of the green covered mountain I built my hut in the grove's delightful core, To seek in the woodlands' tranquility serene, ~epose for my mind and from my griefs refrain.

Fragile nipa is its roof, bamboo frail its floor, With rough timber its pillars and its beams are made: It is true my sylvan shack is naught but poor; But in the mountain lap in dreams it is laid, Day and night the sea lulls it and gives it serenade.

An affluent brook that from the shady confine Descends between rocks bathes it lovingly, And a jet of water regales it through a rough pipeline That in silent night is song and melody And crystalline nectar during the heat of day.

When the sky is serene, the stream gently flowR, Its hidden cithern plays incessantly; But when the rains come its current impetuous Jumps o'er rocks and depths, foaming, bubbling, raucous And daRhes roaring frantically t'ward the sea.

The barking of dogs, the trill of winged warblers And the kalaw's hoarse voice are heard there on]y: No importunate neighbor or a vain intruder Imposes himself upon me or obstructs my way; Near me, I have only the forest and the sea.

-151-

The sea's everything! Its dominant domain Brings to me the atoms of beings far away; Its smile, like a limpid morn, enlivens me, And when in the afternoon my hope proves vaIn, The heart finds reflection in its melancholy.

At night it is a myst'ry!. .. Its lucid sphere Is overspread with thousands and thousands of light; A refreshing zephyr wanders, the heavens flare, The waves in their sighs tell the soft blowing air Of stories that were lost in the past's dark night.

They say of the earth that at the first glimmer of morn, Its bosom was inflamed by the sun's first glare, And thousands of living things from naught were born, Which the abyss and lofty mountain summit adorn And it planted its fructifying kiss everywhere.

But, when the winds become furious in a dark night And restless waves begin to agitate, Cries rent the air that fill the spirit with fright, Mixed voices, pray'rs, lamentations that reverberate Those of people who once in the sea were lost out of sight.

For a time thereafter the mountains up high rebound, The trees keep swaying to and fro, there and here; The cattle cry out load, the thick groves resound] Their spirits say to the prairie they are bound To a fun'ral feast by the dead they're summoned there.

The n.ight hisses, hisses, perplexing and frightenIng; Green, blue flames glowing on the sea are spied; But with the next dawn tranquility's returning And soon an audacious little boat come fishing And on the exhausted waves commences to ride.

-152-

Thus in my obscure retreat the days pass by, From the world where at one time I lived, torn away; For my fortune rare I admire our God on high: A lost pebble, to be clad with moss wish I To hide from all the gift I have in me.

I live with the mem'ries of those I have loved before, And their names by other uttered now and then I hear: Now some are dead, others think of me no more; But, what does it matter? I live with the thoughts of yore And no one can wrest from me the yesteryear.

It is my faithful friend which hur:ts me ne'er Which when it sees me and always consoles my soul, Which in my sleepless night watches me with pray'r With me, and in my exile dwells in my sylvan lair, It alone infuses me with faith when I'm doubted by all.

I have it, and one day I await, would shine When o'er brutal force Idea would prevail, That after the struggle and the ling'ring travail, Another voice more son'rous, happier than mine Shall know then how to sing the triumphant hymn.

So pure and refulgent I see the sky aglow As it was when I fashioned my first illusion, The same whiff I feel that kissed my withered brow, The same that met aflame my keen emotion And ma.de the blood of the young heart seethe with paSSIOn. I breathe the aura that perhaps had passed o'er The fields and rivers of my native town; Bringing back to me what to it I've confided before: The kisses and sighs of an adored being of yore, The dulcet secrets of a love first sown.

Upon seeing the same moon silv'ry as before, I feel drifting back to me the old sorrow's blight; Awakening mem'ries of love and faith I swore . ..

A patio, a terrace, a bower and the shore, Silences and sighs, the blushes of delight ...

-153-

A butterfly feeling thirsty of light and color, I dream of other skies and vaster strands, I left, barely a youth, my loves and native shore, And wand'ring round no doubts, no fears I bore, I spent the spring of my life in foreign lands.

And like a weary swallow, I wished later To return to the nest of my love and my parents' home, Unexpectedly roared a windstorm so severe: My wings were broken, in ruins was my dome, Trust sold to others, destruction everywhere.

Cast upon a rock of my adored country, Without a home, poor in health and doomed my future, My golden, roseate dreams, come again to me, Of my whole existence my only wealth and treasure, The beliefs of a youth so vigorous and hearty.

You're not as you were before, full of fire and grace, That toast a thousand crowns to immortality; I find you somewhat serious; but your darling ~ace, If it's not so bright, if its hues have faded away, On the other hand, has the mark of fidelity.

You offer me, oh illusions, the cup of delight, You come to awaken my youthful years gone by: Thanks to you, oh tempest; thanks, oh winds of the sky, That at the right moment you stopped my uncertain flight, And upon the soil of my country to cause me to die.

Beside the wide expanse of fine and sandy shore And at the foot of the green covered mountain I found in my land an abode in the sylvan core, And 'neath its shady woods, quietness serene, Repose for my mind and from my griefs refrain.

-154-

32. TO JOSEPHINE

"Josephine" to whom Rizal dedicated the following lines was Miss Josephine Bracken, an Irish woman who went to Dapitan accompanying a Mr. Taufer, an Englishman seeking the professional service.s of Rizal as an ophthalmologist.

Josephine, Josephine Who to thes shores have come Looking for a nest, a home, Like a wandering swallow; If your fate is taking you To Japan, China or Shanghai, Don't forget that on these shores A heart for you beats high.

-155-

33. HYMN TO T ALISAY

Composed by Rizal in his exile at Dapitan and sung by his pupils, it was cited at his trial by his accusers as subversive.

CHORUS God bless, Talisay!

Firm and constant Onward each instant Toward thy goal.

Thou, victorious, Every element, Nature's compo ent Thee all will CONtrol.

Of Dapitan, the sandy shore, Rocks on the mountain's lofty peak Are your throne, oh, sacred retreat!

There my childhood days I pass.

On your vale adorned by flow'rs 'Neath the fruit trees with shady bow'rs, There our mind is formed at last 'Long with our body and our soul.

Children are we, for late we're born, But our soul with strength doth grow, Strong men we'll be of tomorrow, To protect our homes we'll know.

Naught can daunt us children: Waves, nor storm, nor thunder; With the ready arm and face serene How to fight, we'll know, in danger. (Chorus) -156-

Our games overturn the sand; Scour we the caves and crags; Stand our homes on the rocks, Reach our weapons anywhere.

There's no gloom, no jet-black night Nor a tempest do we fear; And if Lucifer would appear He'll be caught dead or alive. (Chorus) Talisaynon we are called,

Tiny beings with a big soul, In Dapitan and district whole, Can surpass Talisay, there's naught.

Without equal is our tank, Deep abyss is our jumping place, In the world there's none can outpace For a moment our own boat. (Chorus) Problems of ~xact sciences, Learn we our country's history, Three or four languages speak we Blending both faith and reasons.

Handle our arms at a moment Knife, the spade and the pen, Pickaxe, sword and the gun, All the strong man's companions. (Chorus) Live, live, verdurous Talisay!

All our voices praise you high, Priceless gem, a bright star in sky Infancy's doctrine and solace.

In the struggles that man expect, To afflictions and mourning subject, Thine mem'ry will be their amulet, In the tomb your name, their peace. (Chorus)

-157-

34. SONG OF THE TRAVELER

This pathetic poem was written in his exile.

He was destined to roam "from shore to shore", accompanied only by memories of happier days. On 17 December 1895 he wrote the governor gene-ral, applying for a post in the medical corps of the Spanish army in Cuba.. It seems that he is hoping to embark again on his travels, for he sings: "Leave to others the songs of love, / To others the joys; you again depart." He did depart again, in July 1896, but he reached only Spain and returned to the Philippines a prisoner.

A dry leaf that hesitantly flies And snatched by hurricanes away, Thus lives on earth the traveler Without aim, without soul, without love nor country.

Happiness, everywhere he anxiously seeks And from him that happiness flies away: Empty shadow that mocks his eagerness! .. .

For it rushes the traveler to the sea!

Impelled by an invisible hand Away he'll roam from shore to shore; The mem'ries will keep him company Of loved ones, of a happy day of yore.

Perhaps in the desert a grave he'll find Of tranquility a refuge sweet: Unremembered by his country and the world . . .

He'll rest in peace after a suffering great!

-158-

And they envy the hapless traveler When across the earthly sphere he darts ...

Alas! They know not that in his soul There exists a space where love departs!

To his country the pilgrim will return And perhaps he will return to his home, And he'll find everywhere all snow and rUIns, Lost love, sepulchers, everything gone.

Go, traveler, proceed on your way In your own native land a stranger thou art; Leave thou to others the songs of love, To others the joys; you again depart.

Go, traveler, don't turn back your face, For no one shall weep as you say adieu; Go, traveler and drown your sorrows all, For your grief the world simply mocks at you.

-159-

35. LAST POEM OF RIZAL

Rizal's last poetical composition, to which his fr.iend Mariano Ponce gave the title of MI ULTIMO ADIOS, as it originally had none, is the glory of Philippine poetry in Spanish. Here the poet and martyr bids farewell his country, his family, and his friends in lines of dignity and grace devoid of bitterness. This poem has not failed to move to tears those who have heard it recited. The poet .is resigned to die for his dearly beloved country that he calls "Pearl of the Orient Sea".

This poem has been translated into many languages. The first known English translation was by Mr. Howard W. Bray and included in Biograph路y of Dr. Jose Rizal, his translation from the German of Rizal's biography published by tDr. Ferdinand BIumentritt in 1897 in Interrw,tionales Archiv fur Ethnographie, vol. X, pp. 88-92. Since then it has been translated into French, German, Russian, Hungarian, Italian, Japanese, Latin, Swedish, Hindustani, Arabic, Indonesian, Tagalog, and others.

Farewell, my adored Land, region of the sun caressed, Pearl of the Orient Sea, our Eden lost, With gladness I give you my Life, sad and repressed; And were it more brilliant, more fresh and at its best, I would still give it to you for your welfare at most.

On the fields of battle, in the fury of fight, Others give you their lives without pain or hesitancy, The place does not matter: cypress, laurel, lily white, Scaffold, open field, conflict or martyrdom's site, It is the same if asked by the home and Country.

-160-

I die as I see tints on the sky b' gin to show And at last announce the day, after a gloomy night; If you need a hue to dye your matutinal glow, Pour my blood and at the right moment spread it so, And gild it with a reflection of your nascent light!

My dreams, when scarcely a lad adolescent, My dreams when already a youth, full of vigor to attain, Were to see you, gem of the sea of the Orient, Your dark eyes dry, smooth brow held to a high plane, Without frown, without wrinkles and of shame without stain.

My life's fancy, my ardent, passionate desire, Hail! Cries out the soul to you, that will soon part from thee; Hail! How sweet 'tis to fall that fullness you may acquIre; To die to give you life, 'neath your skies to expir~, And in your mystic land to sleep through eternity!

If over my tomb some day, you would see blow,

A simple humble flow'r amidst thick grasses, Bring it up to your lips and kiss my soul so, And under the cold tomb, I may feel on my brow, Warmth of your breath, a whiff of your tenderness.

Let the moon with soft, gentle light me descry, Let the dawn send forth its fleeting, brilliant light, In murmurs grave allow the wind to sigh, And should a bird descend on my cross and alight, Let the bird intone a song of peace o'er my site.

Let the burning sun the raindrops vaporize And with my clamor behind return pure to the sky; Let a friend shed tears over my early demise; And on quiet afternoons when one prays for me on high, Pray too, oh, my Motherland, that in God may rest 1.

-161-

Pray thee for all the hapless who have died) For all those who unequalled torments have undergone; For our poor mothers who in bitterness have cried; For orphans, widows and captives to tortures were shied, And pray too that you may see your own redemption.

And when the dark night wraps the cemet'ry And only the dead to vigil there are left alone, Don't disturb their repose, don't disturb the mystery: If you hear the sounds of cithern or psaltery, It is I, dear Country, who, a song t'you intone.

And when my grave by all is no more remembered, With neither cross nor stone to mark its place, Let it be plowed by man, with spade let it be scattered And my ashes ere to nothingness are restored, Let them turn to dust to cover your earthly space.

Then it doesn't matter that you should forget me: Your atmosphere, y,our skies, your vales I'll sweep; Vibrant and clear note to your ears I shall be: Aroma, light, hues, murmur, song, moanings deep, Constantly repeating the essence of the faith I keep.

My idolized Country, for whom I most gravely pine, Dear Philippines, to my last goodbye, oh, harken There I leave thee all: my parents, loves of mine, I'll go where there are no slaves, tyrants or hangmen Where faith does not kill and where God alone does reIgn. Farewell, parents, brothers, beloved by me, Friends of my childhood,. in the home distressed; Give thanks that now I rest from the wearisome day; Farewell, sweet stranger, my friend, who brightened my way; Farewell, to all I love. To die is to rest.

-162-

36. FLOWER AMONG FLOWERS

A fragment of an unfinished madrigal, just a rough draft, but it reveals the author's poetic inspiration.

Flow'r amongst flow'rs, tender bud, That the breeze sways with soft lullaby, Sublime breeze, breath of love; Oh, what joys where'er you look; You who smile and do not sigh, All perfume you're, all pure; You, who came perhaps to the earth For the solace of one who is sad, For the joy of th' afflicted heart; They say that you have in your dawn Imprisoned within the bonds Of passion a limpid soul.

They say everywhere the good You spread, as Spring bestows Joy and flowers in April fair; They say that you light the soul When 'tis dark, that without thorns In your garden roses grow.

If, then, like a nymph, bliss you give Those who enjoy your gazeEnchanting charm God gave you, Ah, give me an hour of your bliss, Of your life just only a day, That only the soul did enjoy.

-163-

37. KUNDIMAN

A lyric poem in Tagalog.

Truly hushed today Are my tongue and heart.

Harm is discerned by love And joy flies away, 'Cause the Country was Vanquished and did yield Through the negligence Of the one who led.

But the sun Will return to dawn; In spite of everything Subdued people \iVill be liberated; The Filipino name Will return perhaps And again become In vogue in the world.

We shall shed Blood and it shall flood Only to emancipate The native land; While the designated time Does not come, Love will rest And anxiety will sleep.

-164-

38. CERVANTES AT ARGAMASILLA DE ALBA

Rizal's rich poetic imagination is apparent in this tribute to Cervantes, languishing in his prison at Argamasilla de Alba. For his great book, Don Quijote de la Mancha his name is forever recorded in the annals of history, Rizal sings.

The night was tranquil: in silence The moon did roam the sky Of La Mancha, dry and mountainous, That shed its splendor o'er the field.

The aura wandered, mutely moaning, Among the flow'rs that April sent Like precious gift, and in such sad calmness The nightingale kept silent, the soul was chilled.

The restless world, that nature caressed, Enjoyed then nocturnal sleep, And, as if put by lethal narcotic to dreams, Its sufferings or luck it forgot.

Alas! With steadfast eagerness only one man Was contemplating such beauty pale Near an iron gate, and he seemed To be seized with dejection cruel.

His smooth brow, that Diana's glow Did bathe in mellow light, was proudly raised, And in his eyes beat loftily The flame of genius, intense and fluterring.

-165-

And, just as at the break of dawn The goddess roseate with shadows obscures Its bright light, so disconsolateness With a thick veil darkened his face.

Perhaps his present he contemplates More sad and more cruel than the past; His mind confused an image evokes, An image that fierce death erased?

Perhaps with a sigh he recalls the love Of a mother (now dead) upon hearing his cry, Or the sweet song that heard he as a child On the riverbank of pleasant restlessness.

Perhaps his wounded mem'ry is martyrized By the rosy dre~m, that at one time cherished he, By th' insatiable thirst for vivid glory That his enthusiastic soul hoped to calm.

If disgust attack him rudely, who knows Upon remembering his blood, shed in vain, That the selfish world in its cruel caprice With infamous prison to pay him is pleased.

His honor, indignant at such outrage perfidious Like hurricane black perhaps would rise, And kindles ardent courage in his veins Like red volcano tha,t roars in his breast.

More humane perhaps his miserable star With loyal submissiveness meekly accepts, In his sad affliction are his lips murmuring The pure, the beautiful Christian pray'r.

-166-

His gaze To heaven he turns, A solace To seek.

Poor genius Who tries His sadness To mitigate!

The world Forgets His moan, His cry.

But suffers he His torment, Cruel violent, With valor As sweetly purls The fountain clear When it flows; Thus he awaits With accent Vague, slow His punishment.

H's happy who leaves the earth Not knowing odious life, And to heaven soars Light like a butterfly gay!

Alas, my agony is slow, I have to live in sorrow plunged.

Cease now, my life; Your beating stop, my heart!

For very sad is life Devoid of solace and luck, And more when forgotten is he Who trusts alone in his bitterness!

-167-

Ah! it is true! My sigh Is so humble that it dies on my lips; And when I rave what heart Is struck by my disconsolateness?

My illusions fair One by one swiftly fled, My joyful songs Alas, now came back in sobs.

Who, like you, could caress The flow'rs in gleeful flight, Soul pure and gay, and tell Them of your cares, of our loves?

Mysterious harmony If, I were from the awesome woods, I'll sing day and night beside The river and sonorous flowing stream!

The The The And

winged insect, that enjoys freedom sweet of the field, mottled kid that plays grazes in pasture green;

Ah, luckier are they Than I in my position and infamy.

Oh the grudges, hated vile, impious perfidy Of angry man!

In every place harassed Unhappy and luckless everywhere, What awaits me on earth, Except the peace of pleasant grave.

Is my torment noticed perchance By the blind and degraded world?

Does it hear the parish's poor VOIce, T' oblivion relegated?

-168-

You, more than anyone else, Great nation, my very pow'rful Spain, When grief pursues me, and snuffs me out, Heed, ah, my fervent pray'r!

He said, and kept he silent, His grieving soul did emit a sigh And two tears quietly Rolled down his cheeks.

Oh you, mysterious night, Friend of th' unfortunate, Which from the clear day's light The hard pains hides; Oh tell me, where did the tears Fly that the breeze Caressed witH its wings, With snow and scarlet tinged?

The comforting angel perhaps Gave them to a little flow'r, So that, when shines the day Convert them into scents.

Perchance they climbed to the throne Of th' eternal Father Imidst harmonies, Like a prayer fervent and mute Of a creature oppressed.

In solemn flight The swift air yields 'Mongst tenuous melodies Fantastic vision.

White clothing full Of intense splendor Her svelte figure wears, As never seen before: -169-

Laurel adorns her brow, Refulgent like the sun, The strings of gold are The lyre's that throbs.

Her gaze is vivid Of chaste love full, With her pure rays She captivates the heart.

Bright blue of the sky God put in her eyes, All o'er her locks, Gold powder He shed.

The scarlet of her lips Flow'r would envy, Of Venus favorite In whom did nestle love!

Where prostrate lies th' unhappy man Lamenting his dismal fate Th' enchanting vision comes, Her face is loving and soft: Absorbed, he looks at her and feels His bitterness assuaged, His ill luck he forgets And sweet peace returns.

And tender like the moan Of the soft melodious lyre, Of the lover who sighs O'er the tomb of his love; The voice of the deity, With mellow sweetness filled, The timid unlucky man hears In delicious astonishment.

-170-

Miguel ... Miguel, why does your bravery Yield thus to the rigors of fate?

If the cedar of Lebanon defies .

The dreadful noises of the hurricane, If hard rock that th' unbridled sea Enraged, beats to the outcry Of furious tritions, bravely stands, Why does your unconquered genius despair?

Ah! Who are you, enchanting deity, At whose voice my faith revives and grows, Miguel cries, and like golden morn Delights the world when she appears?

Are you the vision that my mind adores, Of beauty full like the Sylph that stirs In th' azure space, or only a hoax That calms my ill-luck with deceit?

The daughter I am of the Creator of the rose, The jasmine, the meadows and the springs, With light refulgent I was born And in the garden of Eden there I grew; To whoever lies beside me I give joy, I live with the winged seraphs And spreading fineries and beauty, Unruffled nature I embellish.

A time there was when like sprightly flow'r Good fortunes and pleasures I spilled O'er the angelical human pair, King and queen of created things; But, alas! When unknowing one morn The happiest of women Eve, Inquisitive, drank the venom of death, Then to my father's bosom I returned.

-171-

From there I inspired sublime War song of praise and glory From Abraham to the son, when Jehova Destroyed the fierce army in his victory grand; To Jeremiah mournful voice I gave, Devoted to the memory of his Scion; Throbs the lyre of David, the saint, In intoning his religious song.

I heard your complaints of veracious fate, I opened the book that inspires holy fear And in it your tremendous destiny is writ With fatidical colors seen.

Protection on your way you'll find, By falsehood sown for you, You'll struggle with your ominous fate, As a wounded gladiator with death.

Great and immc>rtal pages I'll dictate To you from my exalted seat, And like the robust oak tree from the grass From mortals distinguished you'll be.

The annals of History will preserve Your splendor divine, and the firmament Will be small for so much renown, E'en more bright than the light of day.

Go then, Miguel and may your clear Mind, focus of light that illumes your land, Redeem that demented multitude, Tear off the gloomy veil that covers it.

And, like a thick cloud, hot thunderbolt Victorious hurl in your lofty flight That overthrows the god of madness, Thus making flow celestial luck.

-172-

She said, and like a Cyprian goddess she flew, Who, leaving the Trojan Chief, She scattered fragrant scents and light There on the arden African ground: Her passage marked a luminous wake Quick, and a superhuman valor sprung From the breast of radiant Miguel Dispelling the woe on his countenance.

The East is brightening Smiles early the dawn Precursor bright Of aurora divine Charm of the morn The flow'rs their calyxes ope And receive the cool air, Nature's gift That at the dawn of day Augments its elegance.

The bird with whining so t Salutes from the branch The sun, that spreads And evaporates the dew, Enamel beauteous of grass.

The son'rous fountain joins The morning symphony, That is sweetly heard, Its clear harmonious trill Pleasant joy of the mind.

The breeze on the meadow plays!

The dark night carried away Its sorrows and its blues, And laughters sweet in exchange Come with limpid light.

Miguel too exhilarates As he looks at so much joy As he sees how fair's the day As he thinks of the vision h' enjoys That he had in the gloomy night.

-173-

And from his fecund mind A light, flame does spring, That floods him with ardent blood; The genie inflames his breast With splendor surrounding him.

His smile shines like Immortal demigod Tepid celestial warmth As the matutinal glow That kindles his whole being.

Powerful Mortal, hail!

Hail, fecund talent!

Who in a filthy dark cell You brought to gen'rous light Your book, admired by the world.

J

-174-

39. TO MY CREATOR

This short poem of Rizal has no title. It bespeaks his spirituality and love of country.

Its tenderness is most moving.

To my Creator I sing Who did soothe me in my great loss; To the Merciful and Kind Who in my troubles gave me repose.

Thou with that pow'r of thine Said: Live! And with life myself I found; And shelter gave me thou And a soul impelled to the good Like a compass whose point to the North is bound.

Thou did make me descend From honorable home and respectable stock, And a homeland thou gayest me Without limit, fair and rich Though fortune and prudence it does lack.

-175-

N D I .X /

1. MY FIRST INSPIRATION

In the collection of Rizal's poems entitled Poesias de Rizal, edited by Jaime C. de Veyra and published by the Philippine N ational Library in 1946, this poem is included and considered written by the national hero. However, a n ephew of the hero, Dr. Leoncio Lopez Rizal, claims that its author was not Rizal but his brother Antonio.

WHY do the ragrant flowers Try to vie with one another This festive day in exhaling From their calyxes sweet odor?

AND why in the delightful forest Is heard a dulcet melody That is akin to the singing Of Philomela's harmony?

WHY on the field of soft grasses The birds to the wind's hissing sound Exhale melodious accents And leap o'er the twigs around?

AND the clear cascading fountain That makes sonorous whispers To the soft song of the zephyr Flows down among the flowers?

-177--

WHY do I see in More beautiful The brow amidst Of the golden

the Orient and enchanting the red hues morn a-glowing?

BECAUSE now they honor your birthday Oh, my beloved mother., The flower with its perfume, With its song the winged warbler.

AND the murmuring flowing spring This felicitous, festive day With its murmuring whispers to you That ever joyful you may be.

AND from that murmuring fountain Hear thee the primordial note That now at th' impulse of my love Is coming out from my lute.

- 178 -

2. GOODBYE TO LEON OR

This octave was supposed to have been penned by Rizal before his departure for Europe in 1882. Leonor Rivera was the name of the girl to whom he was engaged to be married.

The fatal instant now has come, My bad luck's dismal destiny; That moment and day at last are here, When I am going to part from thee.

Goodbye, Leonor, goodbye, for I'll leave, I leave to thee, my loving heart; Goodbye, Leonor, now from here I go, Oh, absence sad, ah, how it does hurt!

-179-

3. BY THE BANKS OF THE PASIG RIVER

This lyric poem is inspired by the traditional route to Antipolo followed by pilgrims in Rizal's time, which was via the Pasig River.

At the town of Antipolo is a church where the Virgin of Peace and Good Voyage is venerated until this day. (1961)

Come to the banks of Pasig, oh darling of mine, Come, for the light of the day is about to fade, Come right pow, only for you my banca's waiting By the side of the quite bank underneath the leafy bamboo shade.

Come to the banks of Pasig, already the moon Its silvery disc is peeping at the placid lake; Come for we'll go together to Antipolo, Where I alone your black eyes shall so delightfully contemplate.

Come, come, come oh my heaven, There by the river My dulcet desire I'll sing to you, To the soft murmur Of the riverflow Your very beautiful brow With sampaguitas I will adorn.

-180-

4. KUNDIMAN

The following is an English version of a lyric poem whose authorship is controversial. Professor Jaime C. de Veyra, a Rizalist scholar, who compiled Rizal's poems (Manila, 1946) believes that no one else could be its author but Rizal, Judging by its patriotic fervor and style. Others attribute this poem to Pedro A. Paterno, a contemporary of Rizal.

In the beautiful East Where rises the sun, A beautiful land So full of charms, With fetters strong, The tyrant o'erwhelms.

Alas! It's my land, The country I love.

How sad is life Far from her embrace!

Beyond her fields Light or love there's naught!

The sun does not shine, The sky is dark, How sad if I die Without seeing her sheen!

-181-

On the Pasig banks The mango trees grow Of robust trunks And splendid shade, On their leaves of green The light doth play, To the soul it gives Unequalled delight.

In the beautiful East Where rises the sun, The land I adore So full of charms., In chains does moan!

'Tis dying like a slave; Blessed be the one Who can set her free!

}

-182-