PhiLit PDF

H0045
Course Syllabus
Serial Number: H0045
Course Title: Philippine Literature/Introduction to Literature
Course Description: This course deals with the techniques of appreciative reading and understanding of literary
content, discussion of literary pieces both in form and substance including concepts which
are applied to fiction, poetry, essay writing, and the drama. Various samples of pieces will be
analyzed and examined.
Course Objectives: At the end of the course, the students should be able to:
1 Discuss some historical events, human progress, and literary development from each
literary period in the timeline of Philippine literature.
2 Expound on the contents, influences, genre, and the historical/cultural context of
different literary texts.
3 Recognize the symbolism found in the stories/novels/drama and identify the lines in
the poems that use figurative language.
4 Examine critically the setting, characters, and plot of various narrative texts.
5 Conduct research on some literary figures, their historical context, and literary works.
Credit: 3 units (3 hours per week)
Prerequisite: None
References: 1 Abad, G., & Pantoja-Hidalgo, C. (2003). Our people's story: Philippine literature in English.
Quezon City: University of the Philippines Press.
2 Aguila, A., Arriola, J., & Wigley, J. (2008). Philippine literatures: Texts, themes,
approaches. Manila: University of Santo Tomas Pub. House.
3 Brillantes, L. (2006). 81 years of Premio Zóbel: A legacy of Philippine literature in Spanish.

Makati City: Georgina Padilla y Zóbel, Filipinas Heritage Library.
4 Canlas, R. (2008). The constellational diaspora: Filipino literature and

late twentieth century imperialism. [thesis, Cornell University]
5 Castrillo, P., Pagusara, D., & Tiu, M. (2005). Philippine literature: A Mindanao reader.
Davao City: Research and Publication Office, Ateneo de Davao University.
6 Constantino, R. (1984). The Philippines: A past revisited. Manila: Tala Publishing.
7 Eugenio, D. (1982). Philippine folk literature: An anthology, vol. 1. Quezon City:

Folklore Studies Program and U.P. Folklorists, Inc.
8 Fernandez, D. (1989). “Panitikan: An Essay on Philippine Literature”. [essay]
9 Hau, C. (2000). Necessary fictions: Philippine literature and the nation, 1946-1980.
Quezon City: Ateneo de Manila University Press.
10 Kahayon, A., & Zulueta, C. (2000). Philippine literature: Through the years.
Mandaluyong City: National Book Store.
11 Lumbera, B., & Lumbera, C. (2005). Philippine literature: A history and anthology.
Pasig City: Anvil.
APPROVED BY: Aquino, Anna Carmela Z.

*Property of STI PAGE: 1 of 6
12 Mabanglo, E., & Galang, R. (2010). Essays on Philippine language and literature.
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Pasig City: Anvil Pub.
13 Maramba, A. (2006). Early Philippine literature from ancient times to 1940:

With teaching notes and study guides. Manila: Anvil.
14 Rivera, N. & Sicat, M. (2004). Affirming the Filipino: An anthology of Philippine literature.
Quezon City: Emiluz Printing Industries, Inc.
15 Vinuya, R. (2005). Philippine literature: A statement of ourselves.

Makati City: Grandwater Publications.
16 Dekada ’70 plot synopsis. All Movie Guide. Retrieved June 2010 from
http://www.allmovie.com/dvd/dekada-70-70758
17 “Glossary of Literary Terms”. The University of North Carolina at Pembroke.

http://www.uncp.edu/home/canada/work/allam/general/ glossary.htm,
retrieved March 2010.
18 Philippine Literature Portal http://panitikan.com.ph/ retrieved May 2010.
19 “Philippine People”. DLSU Litera1 No4: Philippine Literature.

http://litera1no4.tripod.com/phlppl_frame.html, retrieved March 2010.
20 Project Gutenberg http://www.gutenberg.org/ retrieved April 2010.
21 The Premier Digital Library of the Philippines. http://www.filipiniana.net/,

retrieved April 2010.
Course Requirements: 1 Lecture-Discussion

2 Quizzes/Exercises
3 Assignments
4 Recitation/Presentation
Grading System: The following percentage distribution shall be followed:

1 Prelims 20%
2 Midterms 20%
3 Pre-finals 20%
4 Finals 40%
100%
The following are the recommended periodic grade components for this course:
1 Class Participation 10%
2 Exercises and Seatwork 20%
3 Quizzes 20%
4 Periodical Examination 50%
100%
APPROVED BY: Aquino, Anna Carmela Z.

*Property of STI PAGE: 2 of 6
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Specific Behavioral Lec Instructor's Student

Wk Topics Slides
Objectives Ses Hrs Guide Handouts
At the end of the lesson, the students are expected to:
1 Recall their favorite literary works 1 1-3 3 Introduction to Literature 1-10 1-10 1-3
or authors. Qualities of literature:
2 Differentiate fiction from non-fiction, utilitarian, creative
prose from poetry. Formal divisions of literature:
3 Enumerate different types of literature fiction, non-fiction, poetry, drama
and categorize works. Types of fiction: realistic,
4 Discuss the basic elements of prose, non-realistic, novel, short story,
poetry, and drama. Types of non-fiction: biography,
5 Take part in class discussion willingly. essay (formal, informal)
6 Demonstrate sensitivity towards Types of poetry: narrative,
individual differences. dramatic, lyric
7 Write an essay by responding Types of drama: tragedy,
to prompts. comedy, absurdity
8 Speak in front of the class Literary devices
with confidence.
9 Compare and contrast different types 2 4-6 3 History of Philippine Literature: 1-4 1-6 1-18
of local folk literature. Pre-Colonial Period 1-16
10 Discuss assigned texts using various Archaic writing system:
reading strategies. baybayin or alibata
11 Realize that good literature existed Folk narratives: alamat,
in the Philippines even before the kuwentong bayan, epics
Spanish colonizers came. Folk speech: bugtong,
12 Cooperate in pair or small group salawikain
activities and display teamwork. Folk songs
13 Demonstrate sensitivity towards Folk tales and legends
ethnic differences and respect Epic poetry
cultural minorities.
14 Listen to the small group
presentations attentively.
15 Speak in front of the class with
confidence while choral reading
or chanting.
16 Communicate or interpret ideas
effectively through choreographic/
dance performance skills.
17 Differentiate various types of classical 3-4 7-12 6 History of Philippine Literature: 1-5 1-10 1-22
Filipino literature and their authors. Spanish Colonial Period 1-16
18 Discuss assigned texts using various Doctrina Christiana
reading strategies to interpret Pasyon
meaning. sinakulo
19 Compare and contrast how characters komedya (moro-moro )
in a narrative cope with conflict, sarswela
difficulties, and opportunities. Metrical romances: awit, korido
20 Brainstorm for their character sketch, Florante at Laura
web, chart, and outline then write Ibong Adarna
an essay about it. Si Tandang Basio Macunat
21 Collaborate in pair/small group Urbana at Felisa
activities for responses to a literary La Solidaridad (Propaganda
topic/project. Movement)
22 Recite poems with rhythm and Kalayaan (Katipunan)
expression, as well as listen to Ninay
poetry reading and a song. Noli Me Tangere
23 Speak in front of peers with confidence El Filibusterismo
while engaged in round table
discussions.
24 Conduct online/library research
utilizing keyboarding/note-taking skills.
5 13 1 Review Session
14 2 PRELIMINARY EXAMINATION
APPROVED BY: Aquino, Anna Carmela Z

* Property of STI PAGE: 3 of 6
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Wk Topics Slides
25 Enumerate some notable authors, 6-7 15-18 4 History of Philippine Literature: 1-4 1-7 1-14
periodicals, and literature during the American Colonial Period 1-16
start of the American colonial period. sarswela
26 Discuss the historical context of the Tanikalang Guinto
lives of early Filipino playwrights and Dakilang Asal
their literary works. Mga Kuwento ni Lola Basyang
27 Compare the similarities and differences
between an original story and its
media adaptation or a derivative work.
28 Rehearse and present a short skit/
drama based on poetry interpretation.
29 Work cooperatively in pairs/small
groups and appreciate the
contribution of others.
30 Demonstrate sensitivity towards peers
and an understanding of past
social traditions.
31 Recite verses with rhythm and
expression and listen actively to
poetry reading.
32 Speak in front of classmates with
confidence while engaged in lecture-
discussions or performing a role play.
33 Conduct online/library research
utilizing keyboarding/note-taking skills.
34 Relate literary works and authors to 7-9 19-26 8 History of Philippine Literature: 1-6 1-8 1-29
major themes and issues during the Commonwealth Period 1-16
American colonial/Commonwealth Three Rats (Tatlong Ulupong)
period. Dead Stars
35 Describe the characters, conflict, plot, How My Brother Leon Brought
climax, and setting of a short story. Home a Wife
36 Compare and contrast ways in which Freedom from Want
dialogue and staging contribute to My Father Goes to Court
the theme of a play/drama. Like the Molave
37 Explain how the choice, sound, and
order of words support the subject
and mood of a poem.
38 Take part willingly in pair/small group
activities and class discussions.
39 Demonstrate sensitivity towards
individual differences and respect
others’ opinions.
40 Recite poems with rhythm and
expression as they read along
to a facilitator.
41 Speak in front of the class with
confidence as they present a
forum theatre.
42 Listen actively to their partner/group
members as they participate in
literature circles.
43 Fill out their handouts with descriptions,
predictions and inferences using
information from the literary text that
they’ve read.
28 2 MIDTERM EXAMINATION

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Wk Topics Slides
44 Describe the characters, setting, plot, 11-13 29-37 9 History of Philippine Literature: 1-4 1-7 1-36
conflict, and climax in a short story. Japanese Occupation to the 1-16
45 Recognize the importance of the New Republic
vernacular/native language in The March of Death
literature and the effect of translating Scent of Apples
a literary work. May Day Eve
46 Compare and contrast the theme, The Summer Solstice
rhyme scheme, use of symbols, and The House on Zapote Street
figurative language in two poems. New Yorker in Tondo
47 Examine a literary selection from A Eulogy of Roaches
several critical perspectives, The Filipino Writer and His
presenting personal opinions while Audience
understanding differing points of view. Philippine vernacular poetry
48 Make predictions about the content of
a story and confirm them after
reading the text.
49 Participate in class discussions as
they develop their responses to a
literary work.
50 Assume responsibility for specific
tasks in pair/small group activities
and presentations.
51 Participate in creative dramatics and
improvising a play by making
impromptu responses.
52 Draw a storyboard by visualizing the
events and sequences in a short
story that they read.
53 Write an essay and a reaction paper
to appreciate literature and its
historical context.
39 2 PRE-FINAL EXAMINATION
54 Recognize stylistic devices in literature 15-17 40-48 9 History of Philippine Literature: 1-8 1-10 1-14
such as characterization, flashback, Contemporary and Popular 1-16
foreshadowing, literal and figurative Dictatorship and martial law
statements, as well as propaganda Social realism
techniques. Protest literature
55 Locate, assess, and summarize Literary journalism
information from a variety of visual, Days of Disquiet, Nights of Rage
aural and textual sources. Dekada ‘70
56 Consider the social and historical Edsa and people power
context in which a literary work Buwan, Buwan Hulugan Mo
was written. Ako ng Sundang
57 Test personal ideas and values against Popular literature
those presented in media, evaluating Komiks
the extent to which a specific piece of Tagalog romance pocketbooks
writing, TV program or film achieves
its purpose.
58 Participate in pair, small and large group
discussions, observing courtesies
and assuming responsibility for
specific tasks.
59 Develop an awareness and appreciation
of contemporary and popular literature.
60 Take down notes and write a film review
and reaction essay, responding
critically and creatively to the medium
and its message.

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Wk Topics Slides
61 Write a descriptive essay as an effective

sketch of a literary character of their
own choosing.
62 Give a prepared talk or presentation on
researched topics about an author
and his/her work/life.
63 Read an increasingly wide range of
materials for personal enjoyment and
extension of learning experiences.
50 2 FINAL EXAMINATION
APPROVED BY: Anilyn Tonnette C. Medrano RELEASE DATE: 2nd Term, SY2014-15
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What is literature?
1. It is the body of written works of a language, period, or culture.
2. It is marked by the use of figurative language—such as creative metaphors, well-turned
phrases, elegant syntax, rhyme, alliteration, meter, and the like.
3. It is in a literary genre: poetry, prose fiction, drama, etc.
4. It is read aesthetically.
5. It is intended by the writer to be read aesthetically.
6. It contains many implications—which are open to the reader’s interpretation.
Qualities of literature
1. From the earliest of times, cultures have been defined by their literature, whose medium
comprises language.
2. Literature falls into two categories:
a) utilitarian
b) creative
3. People read creative literature because they expect it to hold their interest and provide
pleasure.
4. The formal divisions of literature are:
a) fiction
b) non-fiction
c) poetry
d) drama
Types of literature
I. Fiction—are works that emanate from the author’s imagination rather than from fact. It takes
one of two approaches to its subject matter:
a) realistic—the appearance of observable, true-to-life details
b) non-realistic—fantasy
Fictional elements can appear in narrative poetry, drama, and even biography and epic poetry.
II. Non-fiction—consists of works based mainly on fact rather than on the imagination, although
non-fictional works may contain fictional elements.
Types of fiction
Fiction is divided into two categories:
A. Novel—is a prose narrative of considerable length, has a plot that unfolds from the actions,
speech, and thoughts of the characters. They can be classified by subject matter:
1) epistolary
Introduction to Literature *Property of STI
Student Handout Page 1 of 3
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2) gothic pseudo-medieval
3) historical
4) manners
5) picaresque
6) psychological
7) sentimental
B. Short story—is a short prose work concerning only a single, significant episode/scene and
utilizing a limited number of characters.
Types of non-fiction
Examples of non-fiction are:
A. Biography—undertakes a written account of an individual’s life using literary narratives,
catalogues of achievement, or psychological portraits.
B. Essay—is a composition on a single subject, usually presenting the personal views of the
writer. It may be:
1) informal—tend to be brief, conversational in tone, and loose in structure; topic is familiar
(or personal)
2) formal—which are longer and tightly structured, focusing on impersonal subjects and
places less emphasis on the personality of the writer
Types of poetry
III. Poetry—is written to convey a vivid and imaginative sense of experience, using condensed
language selected for its sound, suggestive power, and meaning. It employs literary devices
such as:
a) meter
b) rhyme
c) metaphor
Poetry can be divided into three types:
a) narrative—tells a story such as an epic poem, a ballad, or a metrical romance
b) dramatic—involves portraying a life/character usually involving conflicts and emotions
through action and dialogue
c) lyric—is originally intended to be sung like a sonnet
Types of drama
IV. Drama—consists of a composition in prose or poetry intended to portray a life/character or
to tell a story usually involving conflicts and emotions through action and dialogue. It is often
intended for theatrical production. It can be classified as a:
a) tragedy—recounts the events of an individual’s life that results in an unhappy catastrophe

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b) comedy—aims primarily to amuse and ends happily

c) absurdity—presents characters cut off from religious/philosophical roots and live in
meaningless isolation in an indifferent world
Literary devices: fiction

1) Point of view—represents the perspective from which an author tells a story to the reader. It
could be:
a) first person
b) third person (singular/omniscient)
2) Tone—is the atmosphere of the story, which may include the setting or the physical
environment
3) Character—identifies the person/s in a story whose actions and decisions appeal to the
readers
4) Plot—is the structure of the work or the story line which can be open or closed
5) Theme—is the overriding idea that shapes the other elements in a story
6) Symbol—stands for something else by reason of relationship, association, convention, or
accidental resemblance
Literary devices: poetry

1) Rhythm—consists of the flow of sound through accents and syllables
2) Imagery—is a verbal representation of objects, feelings, or ideas that can be literal or
figurative
3) Metaphor—is a figure of speech where new implications are given to words; comparisons are
implied, not explicit
4) Personification—where abstract qualities, animals, or inanimate objects take on human
characteristics
5) Allegory—where related symbols work together with characters, events, or settings that
represent ideas or moral qualities
6) Hyperbole—constitutes an intentional exaggeration for emphasis or comic effect
Literary devices: non-fiction

1) Facts—are the verifiable details around which writers shape their work, mostly in a biography
2) Anecdotes—are stories or observations about moments in a biography, taking the basic facts
and expanding them for illustrative purposes, thereby creating interest
3) Quotations—authors use them to create interest by changing the presentational format to that
of dialogue

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Archaic writing system

Baybayin or alibata—is a pre-Hispanic Philippine writing system that originated from the
Javanese (Indonesian) script Kavi.
The term “baybayin” literally means “spelling”.
Early Filipinos wrote on bamboo or on specially prepared palm leaves, using knives and styli.
They used the ancient Tagalog script which had 17 basic symbols: 3 vowels—a/e, i, o/u; 14
consonants—ba, ka, da/ra, ga, ha, la, ma, na, nga, pa, sa, ta, wa, ya.
A diacritical mark—the kudlit—modified the sound of the symbol into different vowel sounds:
History of Philippine Literature: Pre-Colonial Period *Property of STI

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Pre-colonial literature
Folk sayings or riddles like tigmo in Cebuano, paktakon in Ilonggo, patototdon in Bicolano, and
bugtong in Tagalog
In folk villages, along river banks and sea coasts, in farms and forests, riddles (bugtongs) were
used to entertain. Around a fire, after a meal, parents and children would exchange bugtongs
as an affectionate game as well as a learning process. At the heart of a riddle is a metaphor
(talinghaga) linking two unrelated images both found in the riddler’s immediate setting:
____________________ 1. Kung kailan pinatay, saka humaba ang buhay.
____________________ 2. Ako'y may kaibigan, kasama ko kahit saan.
____________________ 3. Dalawang batong itim, malayo ang nararating.
____________________ 4. Kay lapit-lapit na sa mata, hindi mo pa rin makita.
____________________ 5. Hindi tao, hindi hayop, kung uminom ay salup-salop.
____________________ 6. Isa ang pasukan, tatlo ang labasan.
____________________ 7. Lumuluha walang mata, lumalakad walang paa.
____________________ 8. May puno walang bunga, may dahon walang sanga.
____________________ 9. Yumuko man ang reyna, di malalaglag ang korona.
____________________ 10. Nakatalikod na ang prinsesa, ang mukha'y nakaharap pa.
The riddle not only sharpened children’s observation of their environment, but also taught them
about the surrounding world and its imaginative relationships, thus giving them a vision—a
way of seeing. For instance, Palawan children enjoy answering the igum (riddle):
Igum ni Upu samula: Grandfather's riddle starts:
Duwang raja Two plates
Kasdang lakbang Same diameter
Anu atin? (Atin lungsud) What is this? (This is the universe)
Igum ni Upu samula: Grandfather's riddle starts:

Kaya magbaras baba His mouth does not speak
Atay ja magbaras His heart is speaking
Anu atin? (Atin Kusyapi) What is it? (This is the lute)
Riddling in Tausug society, especially during weddings, wakes, and the month of Ramadan,
becomes a duel of wit and wisdom:
Piyasud piyasling It was entered inside and taken outside
Piyasausugaring It was zigzagged
Pasura paslinga Let it enter, take it out
Pasa usugaringa. (Makina pagtatahi) Let it zigzag. (Sewing machine)
Pay ku hangka uhayuhay My grain of palay is like a little leaf

Nalatag in laum bay.(Palitaan) But it was able to fill the whole house.
(Lamplight)
Ifugao riddles serve to entertain and at the same time educate the young:
Waday ohan makaphodan babai an kanona di A beautiful lady eats her body. (Candle)
adolna.
Patayom nih-an di inana ahim ta alan nan Kill first the mother, before you get the child.
imbabalena. (Banana)
Dapa-om ke nan balena ya mubuttikan nan Touch the house and the owner runs about.
kumbale. (Spider)
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The proverb (salawikain) further by offering a nugget of wisdom enveloped in short, apt, rhymed
verse:
1. Walang naninira sa bakal kundi sariling kalawang.
2. Pagkahaba-haba man daw ng prusisyon, sa simbahan din ang tuloy.
3. Magsisi ka man at huli, wala nang mangyayari.
4. Ang kita sa bula, sa bula rin mawawala.
5. Daig ng maagap ang masipag.
6. Huwag magbilang ng sisiw hanggang di pa napipisa ang itlog.
7. Batu-bato sa langit, ang tamaan huwag magagalit.
8. Ang magnanakaw ay galit sa kapwa magnanakaw.
9. Ang matapat na kaibigan, tunay na maaasahan.
10. Naghangad ng kagitna, isang salop ang nawala.
When in groups, the Ifugao use proverbs to give advice to the young:
Hay mahlu ya adi maagangan. The industrious will never go hungry.
Hay "uya-uy" di puntupong hi kinadangyan di The feast is the yardstick of a person's wealth.
ohan tago.
Hay itanum mo, ya hidiyeh aniyom. What you have planted is what you will reap.
Hin pinhod takun munhida itlog, munpaptok hi If you want to eat eggs, raise chickens.
manok.
Most of the collected Rombloanon literature is in the form of proverbs which use metaphorical
expression in referring to traditional lore and everyday experience:
Ka tawong marahan magpanaw matunok man A person who walks slowly will have a shallow
ay mababaw. wound should he step on a thorn.
Rali, rali marahil mahali. Haste makes waste.
Ka nagpipili ay nakakapili it pasi. A selective person, selects the worst.
Condiin ka matumba didto ka mabangon. You stand up where you fall.
Ang tawong may calisdanan, buot guid buligan. A person in need heeds help.
Ang kawayan nga tubo, sa langit nagtudlo; kung A bamboo while young always points to heaven,
gumolang kang tumambo, sa duta but the moment it gets old, it bows to the
nakaduko. lowly earth.
Folk songs which are repetitive and sonorous, as in children’s songs or ida-ida a rata
(Maguindanao), cansiones para abbing (Ibanag), or tulang pambata (Tagalog):
Leron, Leron Sinta
Leron, leron sinta, buko ng papaya Halika na Neneng at tayo'y magsimba

Dala-dala'y buslo, sisidlan ng bunga At iyong isuot ang baro mo't saya
Pagdating sa dulo, nabali ang sanga Ang baro mo't sayang pagkaganda-ganda
Kapus kapalaran humanap ng iba. Kayganda ng kulay--berde, puti, pula
Halika na Neneng, tayo'y manampalok Ako'y ibigin mo, lalaking matapang

Dalhin mo ang buslo, sisidlan ng hinog Ang baril ko'y pito, ang sundang ko'y siyam
Pagdating sa dulo'y uunda-undayog Ang lalakarin ko'y parte ng dinulang
Kumapit ka Neneng, baka ka mahulog. Isang pinggang pansit ang aking kalaban
Bahay Kubo (Nipa Hut)
Bahay kubo, kahit munti Kundol, patola, upo't kalabasa

Ang halaman doon ay sari-sari At saka mayroon pang labanos, mustasa
Singkamas at talong, sigarilyas at mani sibuyas, kamatis, bawang at luya
Sitaw, bataw, patani. sa paligid-ligid ay puro linga.

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Composed in metaphorical language, the bayok (Maranao) spoke of love and is resorted to when a
cautious and euphemistic expression is required:
Salangkunai a meling Talking Salangkunai
A malidu bpagimanen T'is hard to trust in you,
Ka mulaun sa dibenal For untrue leaves could sprout
Dun-dun ai lumaging Dun-dun fond of chatting
A paya pagilemuan T'is hard believing you,
Ka mumbus sa hakadulat For cheating buds may show
Na u saken idumanding Once I [start to] fondle
Sa kaludn pun na is From the sea
na matag aku 'ngka maneg You would just hear from me
di ku mawatang galing. My darling, close to me.
Love and courtship songs utilize images of nature as metaphors to express unrequited love. Most
of these songs dramatize the hardships experienced by a man as he tries to win the love of a
woman like in “Namunit” or Fishing (Rombloanon):
Ako ay namunit I went fishing
Sa pampang sang gugma In the sea of love
Ako nga guin paon All that I used
Madamo nga letra Were countless letters
Anay sang guintukob But when you were about to take
San isang parangan These letters that I served
Madamo ang kaila Everyone was overjoyed
Sa akon higugma. With the love I offered.
Some literature put children to sleep like the lullabye or ili-ili (Ilonggo/Hiligaynon):
Ili, ili, tulog anay Sleep now, my child

Wala diri imo nanay Your mother is not here,
Kadto tienda bakal papay, She went to the store to buy bread,
Ili, ili, tulog anay. Sleep now, sleep.
The ambahan which is still written and chanted by the Mangyans, are songs about nature,
childhood, human relationships, and hospitality:
Kalyaw dap sa abyagen Stop a while here from your trip!
Linong dap sa baaynan Stay here with us in the house.
Atay sudong di way man It is getting late and dark.
Duman dap sa salsagan Rest a moment on the floor.
Hignop dap sa bariwan Stretch yourself out on the mat
Hamoy ha balantian shaded by the balanti,
Bigsi ha banaynayan the bigsi or banay tree.
Hulag ha no sangbayan When you feel rested and fine,
Bag-o tam magtaladan let us talk together then
Sis hulinan hulinan for a long, long time to go.
The Tausug’s langan batabata are lullabies that have a soft and relaxing melody:
Dundang ba Utu Go to sleep
tug na ba kaw Now my son
Liyalangan ta sa kaw I am singing to you
Bang bukun sabab ikaw If not because of you
In maglangan mahukaw. I would not even like to sing.

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Love songs like the panawagon and balitao (Ilonggo), harana or serenade (Tagalog/Cebuano),
and other verses are expressed through the short love poem like the tubud-tubud
(Maguindanao):
Pupulayog sa papas ka pumagapas apas Flying hard, the swift is
Ka tulakin kon ko banog Trying to catch up with the hawk
Na diron pukatalakin But he cannot equal him
Ka daon kasakriti. Because he is far too small
Kanogon si kanogon nakanogon ni ladan ko Woe, woe unto me
A pukurasai mamikir a ana palandong a dar Worried from thinking of a loved one
Na di akun mapkangud a bologang ko sa gugao And I cannot let my feelings prevail, express my
Ka Oman akun ipantao na pusulakan a ig love
O matao kandalia. Because everytime I want to reveal it
Stops it in its way.
Gaddang lallao (poetry), which are often transformed into songs, often start out as compositions
which have as themes love, goodwill, service, and obedience. As in love poems, one recurrent
metaphor is that of flowers to symbolize love:
Berso Na Ana-anap (Verse of Frustrated Love)
Tata a lappao yo pangirang-ngirang cu I compare thee to a flower,

So bahu a sinag, banna-banny na dihat A ray of light that gives inspiration—
Metalugaring nu mepadandan sicuan More so if you give me your attention.
Yo neduma a aggam, neduna a anap. Love comes in many forms from the young
Which I am expecting every morning and
Daddaramat anna fuab afternoon, in my native town.
Yo mamanoc era naccayaccac
Na cancion mapparaparappag Songs that convey what I feel—
Y canta-cantanda a iyayag yo anggam cu A love that caused such a burden and pain;
Yo anggam cu a madammat a suerte The four seeds I have sown
Which are my only hope.
Cuppat a bucal
Cuppat a inanaman Dried seed,
Cuppat a bucal yo innac a imula Dried hope,
Yo mangiada si allac nga ira yo pattolayan Dried seed that I may plant,
Nattufu,naddam, napangga, nallappao That perchance your charm may let grow.
Udde menangque nabbunga. It grew, it climbed, it branched, it bloomed
But never did it bear fruit.
The cancion, a popular Cuyunon serenade, is sung with the strumming of a guitar where parting is
a familiar concern:
Napamasiar ako sa malapad nga siodad, I went strolling in a wide city.
Nakapotay ako, papel nga malapad. I picked up a wide paper.
Na basako rendaang manga libirtad, From it I read, the sweethearts
Ang naga norobian, sarang pa mabelag. Can still be parted.
Komosta komosta dawat ang alima Let me shake your hand

Tanda sa pagbelag ara dipirinsia, As a sign of separation without hurt feelings
Ogali soltiros ogali daraga It's but natural that we fall in love
Naga rilasionan sa mayad nga leba And then forget.
Some forms brought the folk verse of riddle and proverb to the level of poetry, being written
around an idea or insight—to teach a lesson, to express a value or a view of the world—in the
imaging and speech of the people, such as the tanaga (Tagalog):

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Ang tubig ma’y malalim Ang sugat ay kung tinanggap

malirip kung libdin di daramdamin ang antak
itong budhing magaling ang aayaw at di mayag
maliwanag paghanapin galos lamang magnanaknak
Songs were active literature, giving rhythm to the activities of daily life, such as fishing or
working in the field, buying and selling food, joking and drinking, celebrating marriage and
victory in battle, and mourning the dead. Work songs sung to go with the movement of
workers such as the kalusan (Ivatan), soliranin (Tagalog), the mambayu (Kalinga), and the
following Nabaloy hunting song:
Anop (Hunting)
Sadaa salag kan bulan Shine, shine mister moon

Pan achan cod kaptaagan [To light] my way to the lowlands.
Bolo, moly y pachenan; Bamboo, bamboo is what I hold;
Bato, batog kati-inan. Stone, stone is where I step.
Bangon, babgon ka ina, Wake, wake my mother,
Ka pan duto ni aba You go cook my gabi
Sidofen kod daptaagan, For lunch in the lowlands.
Isirac ni cubilaan.
Rice-pounding song for weddings (Tinguian)
Imma isa-a-isa Imma one after the other

Manbayo cad si Angtan Angtan will do the pounding
Gumas su gasuwi dan The pestle will rock
Sakon kad did manbayo If I be the one to pound
Isalsalong giekco My life would be in danger.
Work songs are sung by men and women as they perform their tasks in the house, in the fields, or
at sea to relieve boredom and lighten work with humor. Here is a famous Rombloanan song:
Si Pilimon (Filemon)
Si Pilimon, si Pilimon Filemon, Filemon

Nagpamunit sa karagatan In the sea, he fished
Nakadawi, nakadawi He caught, he caught
Isda nga tambasakan A tiny fish
Binaligya, binaligya He sold, he sold
Sa mercado nga sira In a lonely market
Ang benta puros gisi The earning was smal
Ang benta puros gisi The earning was small
Kulang pa nga itingi. Not enough to buy food.
After a hard day's work, Tausug farmers and fisherfolk sing songs which have happy melodies:
Manok-manok Iupad kaw Little bird fly away
Sulat ini da kaw Bring this letter
Pagdatung mu sumha kaw When you arrive make an obeisance
Siki limo siyum kaw. And kiss [her] feet and hands.
Saupama naghangka-bangka Supposing I'll go boating
In alun landu' dakula The waves are very big
Seesabroos nagkalalawa The Seesabroos was lost
Hi rayang hadja Mv darling's name
In ba laum dila. was always on my tongue.

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Verbal jousts/games like the duplo were played at funeral wakes:

Mga binibini at mga ginoo, Ang duplo ay laro ng magkakapatid,
Matatanda’t batang ngayo’y naririto, patama ng dila’y huwag ikagalit;
Malugod na bati ang tanging handog ko ang lakas at diin ng taglay na tinig
sa pagsisimula nitong larong duplo. ay simbuyo lamang sa pagmamatuwid.
Dung-Aw (Ilocano mourning song)
Ay ama nga nag-ebebba Oh father

Dinak man kasasian aya You have no pity on me,
A panawan a sisina You are leaving me alone
Tay uneg balay a kasa. in this house.
Funeral songs are drama, for these are chanted conversations with the deceased. The Bontoc
Igorot’s annako is a mourning song by old women keeping vigil beside the dead, which seats
on the death throne. If the dead is a victim of violence at the hands of the enemy, the annako
challenges the spirit of the dead to take revenge and restore his honor. An excerpt follows:
Into'y nabay gatanam Look where you have gone
Inka'y tay mid alam Because you have not taken any
Palalo ka'y kasegseg-ang You are very pitiful [you are]
No inka et maeesang For look, you are alone,
Inka et ta alam nan So, you get [him] now
Ta wad-ay et en kaduam So you will have some company
Ta adi ka et maeesang So you will not be alone
Inka et ta alam nan. So, go get [him] now.
Narratives, such as folk tales and legends (alamat), were created to explain natural phenomena
and the origin of things long before science came to be known.
Myths show that early Filipinos believed in a supreme being or god/s called: Bathala (Tagalog),
Mangetchay (Kapampangan), Gugurang (Bicol), Lumawig (Bontoc), Kabunian (Igorot),
Liddum (Ifugao), Mahal Makakaako (Mangyan), Laon (Visayan), Magbabaya (Bukidnon),
Sualla or Tullus (Tiruray), Melu (Blaan), Makalidug (Manobo), Diwata (Bagobo), Manama
(Munuvu), Kadaw La Sambad and Bulon La Mogaw (Tiboli)
The Creation Story (Iloko)
According to one Ilocano origin myth, a giant named Aran built the sky and hung the sun, moon, and stars
in it. Under their light, Aran's companion, the giant Angalo, could see the land, which he then molded
into mountains and valleys. The giants found the world they had created windswept and desolate.
Angalo spat on the earth, and from his spit emerged the first man and woman. He placed them in a
bamboo tube that he tossed into the sea. The bamboo washed up on the shore of the Ilocos region,
and from this couple came the Ilocano people.
The Origin of Eclipses (Maranao)

Up in the sky lives a huge lion named Arimaonga. This animal sometimes gets playful, and it swallows the
moon, thus producing an eclipse of the moon. Arimaonga is forced by the people to disgorge the moon
by the noise they make during an eclipse of the moon, so people beat gongs and pluck their
fingernails.
The eclipse of the sun happens when one of the wheels of the chariot which carries it gets destroyed, thus
forcing it to deviate from its regular path.

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The Creation Story (Tagalog)

When the world first began, there was no land—there were only the sea and the sky, and between them
was a crow. One day the bird, which had nowhere to land, grew tired of flying around, so she stirred up
the sea until it threw its waters against the sky. The sky, in order to restrain the sea, showered upon it
many rocks forming islands until the sea could no longer rise but instead flow back and forth, making
tides. Then the sky ordered the crow to land on one of the islands to build her nest and to leave the
sea and the sky in peace.
Now at this time the land breeze and the sea breeze were married, and they had a child which was a
bamboo plant. One day when the bamboo was floating about on the water, it struck the feet of the
crow who was on the beach. The bird, angry that anything should strike her, pecked at the bamboo,
and out of one section came a man and from the other a woman.
Then the earthquake called on all the birds and fish to see what should be done with the man and woman,
and it was decided that they should marry. Many children were born to the couple, and from them
came all the different races of people.
After a while the parents grew very tired of having so many idle, useless children around. They wished to
be rid of them, but they knew of no place to send them. Time went on, and the children became so
numerous that the parents enjoyed no peace. One day, in desperation, the father seized a stick and
began beating them.
This so frightened the children that they fled in different directions, seeking hidden rooms in the house.
Some concealed themselves in the walls, some ran outside, others hid in the earthen stove, and
several fled to the sea.
Now it happened that those who went into the hidden rooms of the house later became the chiefs of the
islands, and those who concealed themselves in the walls became slaves, while those who ran outside
were free men. Those who hid in the stove became dark-skinned people. Those who fled to the sea
were gone many years, and when their children came back, their skins were white.
Why There Is High Tide During a Full Moon (Ibanag)

Long, long ago only gods lived in this world, the earth, seas, and sky were ruled by three different powerful
gods.
The sun god, who ruled the sky, had a very beautiful daughter, Luna, the moon. Luna enjoyed going
around the heavens in her golden chariot. One day she found herself taking another path which led her
outside her kingdom. She wandered on until she reached the place where the sky met the sea.
Beautiful and unusual sights greeted her eyes. As she was admiring the beautiful things around, a
voice startled her. It asked, "Where has thou come from, most beautiful one?"
Turning around she saw a young man who looked much like her father though fairer. She wanted to run
away, but when she looked at him again, she saw that he was smiling at her. Taking courage she
answered, "I am Luna, daughter of the sun god."
The young man smiled at her and answered, "I am Mar, the son of the sea god. Welcome to our kingdom."
Soon the two became good friends. They had many interesting stories to tell each other. When it was
time for Luna to go, they promised to see each other as often as they could, for they have many more
tales to tell. They continued meeting at the same spot until they realized that they were in love with
each other.
One day after one of their secret meetings, Luna went back to the heavens full of joy. She was so happy
that she told her secret to one of her cousins. This cousin, jealous of her beauty and her happiness,
reported the affair to the sun god. The sun god was angered at his daughter's disobedience to the
immortal laws. He shut her in their garden and did not allow her to get out. Then he sent a messenger
to the sea god informing him that his son Mar disobeyed the immortal law. The sea god, who was also
angered by his son's disobedience, imprisoned him in one of his sea caves.
Luna stayed in the garden for sometime. She was very sad at not being able to see Mar. She longed to be
with him again. Feeling very restless one day, she escaped from the garden. She took her golden
chariot and rushed to their meeting place. Mar, who was imprisoned in the sea cave, saw her reflection
on the water. He wanted to get out to meet her. He tried hard to get out of his cave causing unrest in
the sea. Luna waited for Mar to appear, but he did not come. Then she went back home very sad.

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Each time she remembered Mar, she would rush out in the golden chariot to the meeting place in
hopes of seeing him again.
The fishermen out in the sea believe that each time Luna, the moon, appears, the sea gets troubled. "It is
Mar trying to escape from his cave," they say.
Eba’t Adan (Adam and Eve of the Tagalogs)

Many hundreds of years ago, when Luzon was still uninhabited, Bathala—the supreme god of the
Tagalogs—was envious of Laon—the god of the Visayans—because Laon had many subjects, while
Bathala's kingdom was a barren desert. It was within the power of Bathala to create human beings but
not food for them, so he asked for advice from Diwata, the supreme god of the universe and of the
Bagobos.
Diwata told Bathala that on the next day he would send an angel to Earth with seeds to be planted. The
promise was fulfilled, and Bathala scattered the seeds all over Luzon. Within a short time, the island
was covered with trees and shrubs and was then ready for human habitation.
Accordingly, Bathala created Adan (Adam) and Eba (Eve), the ancestors of the Tagalogs. Though they
were forbidden to eat the green fruit of a certain plant, they disobeyed and ate it. So, as punishment,
they were poisoned and made very sick. They did not die, however. As a result of their experience,
they gave the name lason (poison) to this plant.
Conscious of their fault, Adan and Eba begged for the forgiveness of Diwata. By order of Diwata, Bathala
forgave the criminals, but the lason still remained poisonous. In order to rid it of its dangerous
properties, an angel was sent to earth. He put the marks of his fingernails on the surface of the pulp of
each lason seed, and these marks may be seen to this day. Afterwards, the name of the plant was
changed from lason to lanzon(es), the name by which it has been known ever since.
Why the Dead Come Back No More (Ifugao)

A very long time ago, there lived a very kind woman with her three little children. She loved her children so
much that she worked hard to be able to feed them.
One day she fell ill, and in a short time she died. Her spirit went to Kandungayan, of course, as she lived a
good life, but one night she thought of her poor little children whom she left on earth. She imagined
that no one cared for them and that they must be hungry and cold. She pitied them so much that she
decided to go back to earth.
When she reached their house, she called her eldest child to open the door for her. The children
recognized their mother's voice and opened the door at once. She went in and spoke to them, but they
could not see her because it was so very dark and their fire had gone out. The children had not built a
fire since their mother died. The children were too small, and they did not know how to build one.
So the woman sent her eldest child to beg for fire from the neighbors as she felt very cold. The poor child
went to the first house, but when she told them that she wanted fire for her mother who had come back
home, the people just laughed at her. They did not give her fire. She went to the next house, but the
same thing happened. Thus, she went to the next house, from house to house, but no one believed
that her mother had come back. They thought the poor child had gone out of her mind. So the poor
child went home without fire. The woman was very angry with all the unkind people. She said, “Am I to
die a second death because men are so selfish? Come, my children, let us all go to that better place
where I came from—Kandungayan. There are no selfish people there.”
She took a jar of water and went outside in the yard. She shouted to all the people, “Ah, what selfish
people you all are. From this time on all people will follow my example. No man will ever come back
again to earth after death.” With these words she smashed the jar on a big stone. This made a horrible
sound. All the people became silent with fear.
The next morning the people came out to see what had caused the great voice. They saw the bits of
broken jar and they found the three children dead. They now knew that the woman had really come
back home that night and that in her anger at their selfishness had taken her three children with her.
The people were so sorry for not having given fire to the little girl.
Since then no dead person has ever come back to earth.

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How the Angels Built Lake Lanao (Maranao)

Long ago there was no lake in Lanao. On the place where it is now situated, there flourished a mighty
sultanate called Mantapoli. During the reign of Sultan Abdara Radawi, the greater grandfather of Radia
Indarapatra (mythological hero of the Lanao Muslims), this realm expanded by military conquests and
by dynastic marriages so that in time its fame spread far and wide.
The population of Mantapoli was numerous and fast increasing. At that time the world was divided into two
regions: Sebangan (East) and Sedpan (West). The mighty sultanate of Mantapoli belonged to
Sebangan. Because this sultanate rapidly increased in power and population as well, the equilibrium
between Sebangan and Sedpan was broken.
This unbalance soon came to the attention of Archangel Diabarail (Gabriel to the Christians). Like a flash
of sunlight, Diabarail flew to the Eighth Heaven and told Allah (God), “My Lord, why have you
permitted the unbalance of the earth? Because of the power of Mantapoli, Sebangan is now larger
than Sedpan.”
“Why, Diabarail,” replied the Sohara (Voice of Allah), “what is wrong with that?”
“My Lord, Mantapoli has a vast population countless as the particles of dust. If we will allow this sultanate
to remain in Sebangan, I fear that the world would turn upside down, since Sebangan is heavier than
Sedpan.”
“Your words show great wisdom, Diabarail," commented the Sohara.
“What must we do, my Lord, to avert the impending catastrophe?"
To this query, the Sohara replied, “Go right away to the Seven-Regions-Beneath-the-Earth and to the
Seven-Regions-in-the-Sky and gather all the angels. I will cause a barahana (solar eclipse) and in the
darkness let the angels remove Mantapoli and transfer it to the center of the earth."
Upon receiving the mandate of Allah, Archangel Diabarail, traveling faster than lightning, rallied the millions
of angels from the Seven-Regions-Beneath-the-Earth and the Seven-Regions-in-the-Sky. With this
formidable army, he presented himself to Allah, saying, “My Lord, we are ready to obey Your
command.”
The Sohara spoke, "Go to Sebangan, and lift the land of Mantapoli."
Diabarail, leading his army of angels, flew to the east. In the twinkle of an eye, the sun vanished and a
terrible darkness as black as the blackest velvet shrouded the universe. The angels sped faster than
arrows. They swooped on Mantapoli, lifting it with great care and carried it (including its people,
houses, crops, and animals) through the air as if it were a carpet. They brought it down at the center of
the earth, in accordance with the command of Allah. The very spot vacated by the sultanate of
Mantapoli became a huge basin of deep, blue water—the present Lanao Lake.
The waters coming from the deep bowels of the earth rose higher and higher. Archangel Diabarail, seeing
the rising tides immediately returned to the Eighth Heaven and reported to Allah, “My Lord, the earth is
now balanced. But the place where we removed Mantapoli is becoming an ocean. The waters are
rising fast, and unless an outlet for them can be found, I fear that they might inundate Sebangan and
drown all Your people."
In response, the Sohara said, “You are right, Diabarail. Go out, then, and summon the Four Winds of the
World: Angin Taupan, Angin Besar, Angin Darat, and Angin Sarsar. Tell them to blow and make an
outlet for the overflowing waters.”
Obeying the Master's command, the faithful messenger summoned the Four Winds. "By the Will of Allah,"
he told them, "blow your best, and make an outlet for the rising waters of the new lake."
The four winds of the world blew, and a turbulence swept the whole eastern half of the earth. The surging
waters rolled swiftly towards the shores of Tilok Bay to the southeastern direction. But the towering
ranges impeded their onrush. The Four Winds blew, hurling the waves against the rocky slopes but in
vain; no outlet could be cut through the mountain barrier.
Changing direction, this time eastward, the Four Winds blew harder, driving the raging waters towards the
shores of Sugud Bay (situated east of Dansalan, now Marawi City). Once again, the attempt to create
an outlet failed because the bay was too far from the sea.
For the third time, the Four Winds changed direction and blew their hardest. The waves, plunging with
ferocity, rolled towards Marawi. Day and night, the Winds blew as the waters lashed against the
shoreline of Marawi. This time the attempt succeeded. An outlet now called Agus River was made, and
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through the outlet, that water of Lake Lanao poured out to the sea, thereby saving Sebangan from a
deluge.
It came to pass that there was a high cliff at the outlet, and over the cliff the waters cascaded in majestic
volume. Thus, arose the beautiful falls which, eons later, was named Maria Cristina, after a famous
queen of Spain.
The Legend of Maria Makiling (Tagalog)

Once upon a time, a diwata lived in a mountain of Laguna. She was called Maria Makiling. She has light
olive skin, long shining black hair, and twinkling eyes. She was breathtakingly beautiful. Maria was
always about helping other people. One time, the children of a farmer got sick. When he went to Maria
to seek help, he was given a bilao full of ginger. The farmer sadly went home carrying the bilao of
ginger. When he reached his hut, he was greatly surprised: the ginger had turned to gold! Because of
Maria's kindness, the townsfolk had grown to love her.
Maria was a great beauty. She was sought for and wooed by many suitors. Three of them were very much
determined to have her. One is Captain Lara, a Spanish soldier who always brought her gifts from
Europe. The other is Joselito, a Spanish mestizo who was studying in Manila. Every time Joselito visits
Maria, he had many stories to tell her about foreign countries and the things that he had read in books.
He dreamed of going to Spain. He didn't like to live in the Philippines. Of the three, it was Juan who is
the most industrious. He is a common farmer. But he is so hard working, and his fruits and vegetables
grew fat and juicy. He also had many pet animals and birds. But if truth be told, it was Juan who Maria
secretly admired. As time passed, her suitors became more and more impatient and demanded that
Maria tell them who she loves. So the diwata was forced to promise: “By the night of the full moon, I
will tell you my answer.”
When the night of the full moon arrived, all of her suitors climbed up the mountain to know her decision. All
was startled when Maria told them that it was Juan whom she loved. The suitors went away feeling
dejected. On the other hand, Joselito and Captain Lara were very much angry with Juan. They thought
of a plan against him.
One day, all was surprised when a huge fire devoured the cuartel of the Spanish. Because of the fire,
Captain Lara ordered many Filipinos to be captured. Secretly, Joselito helped him. Juan was among
those who they imprisoned and tortured.
Many prisoners did not last long from the tortures the Spanish had inflicted upon them. One night, Captain
Lara and Joselito secretly spoke with the prisoners. The next day, Juan was blamed for the burning of
the Spanish cuartel. "I did not do it!" cried Juan. But the prisoners pointed at him because Captain Lara
and Joselito frightened them.
The soldiers brought Juan to the plaza. In front of hundreds of people, Juan was shot as the enemy of the
Spaniards. He was killed even though he didn't commit any wrongdoing. But before he died, he
managed to shout out loud Maria's name. It was heard by the diwata so she quickly went down her
mountain.
But Juan was already dead when Maria arrived. Tears falling down her face, she embraced tightly his
lifeless body. Afterwards, she faced the crowd. "Why did you not take care of him?" she shouted.
Meanwhile, Captain Lara and Joselito fled to Manila because they were afraid of Maria. When she
learned of this, she cursed the two. She also cursed those men who cannot accept failure in love.
Soon, the curse took effect. Joselito suddenly became ill. There was no cure for his illness.
Captain Lara, on the other hand, was called back to Laguna when the Filipinos revolted against the abuse
that the Spaniards had inflicted upon them. The revolution quickly spread to many parts of the
Philippines. The revolutionary Filipinos killed Captain Lara.
From then on, Maria never let herself be seen by the people. Every time somebody got lost on the
mountain, they remember the curse of the diwata. They remember the great love of Maria Makiling.
The Origin of Macapuno (Tagalog)

In pre-Hispanic days, there was a lagoon that connected with the River Pasig, where later stood the
Chinese Parian, near present Botanical Gardens. The Pasig lapped quietly against its banks. Sailing
slowly past on the current were floating islands of water-plants, including patches of those resembling
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cabbages called quiapo, which that suburb is named after. Crocodiles—ancient, scraggy-skinned
specimens—abounded, and water-fowl filled the mornings and evenings with their calls. Where the
lagoon and shore met in a labyrinth of waterways, the green fronds of the nipa-palm flourished, and
forest trees grew about the edges, raised a few feet above the level of the river. This lagoon was later
used as a water-entry for the trading champans and cascos with the Chinese, but gradually it filled up
after the Parian was transferred across the Pasig to the Alcayceria.
Upon the arrival of the Castilians (Spaniards) to the Islands, the petty rajahs and rulers of the settlements
were—almost without exception—men of Borneo or, more accurately, of the sultanate of Brunei, which
claimed everything north to Manila Bay. Such places as Sapa (Sta. Ana) were ruled over by
Lakantagan, a Bornean, whose son by a “Bornean woman” named Pasay—it is said—gave his name
to that settlement. So Kainta, Kalilaya, and Komintang (Tayabas and Batangas) of Panay, and Bago
and Ilo of Negros were Bornean rulers, as was possibly Lakandola, the grandson of Lontok and
Kalangitan. A daughter of Lontok married the ruler of Sapa (Baliuag), a colony planted from the original
Sapa (Sta. Ana), who was called Balagtas. Bunayog, the ruler of Bua (Nebuy, the chief settlement of
Camarines); Panga, ruler of Lupa; Kayayao ruler of Sabang, settlements of Bicolandia; and Sumaclob,
rajah of the Cuyos were all men of Borneo who paid tribute to Brunei before its decadence about the
end of the16th century.
Its copper money, at least, was current in the beginning of this century here in the Islands.
Some generations before the caravels of Legaspi entered Manila Bay, this lagoon was home to a family of
the rajah class who had been exiled from Brunei for some reason connected with the execution of the
Sultan, a cruel and avaricious ruler. Reduced to the lowest circumstances, Rajah Madia and his wife
Kimay made the banks of the lagoon their home. Without the usual regiment of slaves and with no
means of obtaining them, their household consisted of their only daughter, Macapuno, a girl of extreme
beauty and affability and a princess in her own right; the aged brother of Madia, named Tidoy; and
Tidoy's two sons, Kamanchille and Guanar, both growing into manhood. The river, marsh, and forest
supplied their simple wants, as it did those of their neighbors on the lush banks of the Pasig.
Although many asked for the hand of the beautiful and modest Macapuno, none was of sufficient rank to
satisfy Madia and his wife. Attractive and lovable she grew into womanhood, but lacking a noble suitor,
she busied herself solely with the tasks of the household. If she had dreams, she kept them to herself.
In time, age overtook her parents, who died and were buried according to Bornean customs.
Kamanchille and Guanar, haughtily refusing to take service with the datus of Lusong, became expert
warriors and hunters, supporting their cousin Macapuno, and their aged father Tidoy, a once-renowned
warrior. A year or so passed in this manner for the reduced family living in exile on the banks of the
lagoon by the Pasig.
The day came when a wandering hero (bayani) from Brunei passed by, saw the beautiful Macapuno, and
fell violently in love with her. She in turn did not discourage his advances. Having nothing but his arms
and valor, and pleasing address and appearance, Luanbakar proposed to marry her, but the cousins,
Kamanchille and Buanar, as heads of the family, were fiercely proud of their high descent and,
following age-old custom, were suspicious of all strangers. After conferring with the viejo Tidoy and
Macapuno, they allowed him to follow the regular condition of an unknown suitor of Malaysia.
This custom stated that the admirer should labor for a certain period for the family of the maid, until the
elders were satisfied that a good choice had been made and that the suitor would prove an eligible
match for the girl. Luanbakar readily agreed, and the first task appointed to him was the construction of
a long dike in order to make part of the lagoon into a fishpond. This pond, supplied by the tides from
the Pasig, would prove a profitable undertaking in breeding the fish among the roots of the mangroves
and nilad plants (thus, the city Maynilad which later became Maynila). The work progressed for some
time, the dredging and building being done by hand alone. This was varied by hunting trips in the
commons, and Luanbakar proved his industry and dexterity on all occasions, partly allaying the
suspicions of the two cousins.
Because the fishpond was but a short distance from the house, Macapuno would carry food to the bayani
engaged in his labor of love for her, and in the flush of youth, they were naturally attracted to each
other. But the cousins of the princess believed that the stranger had not waited for the rite of marriage
and, out of revenge planned, to kill him as he had not followed the strict custom. They reasoned that to
doing so would save their honor, notwithstanding that the task allotted him had been practically
completed and that their cousin and the bayani were as good as married. In accordance with Malayan
custom, a wrong remains un-righted until death overtakes the guilty. It is equally un-redressed if the
avenger fails to make himself or his aims known to the victim. The boys then plotted the death of the
stranger, either singly or in the company of each other.
H0045
As Luanbakar was busy finishing the dike, Kamanchille with his hunting spear appeared before him one
day, inquiring if the wild boar he was pursing had passed that way. The bayani replied, "No," adding
that these animals rarely take to the river to hide. The cousin kept insisting on his story, and Luanbakar
turning his head towards the young man, saw him with his spear poised and pointed in his direction.
The same instant this was launched with such ferocity that it entered his side below the ribs, passed
through the body and hurled him into the water, while Kamanchille taunted him for his flouting of
immemorial custom. Terribly wounded, Luanbakar climbed the dike, extracted the spear, bound the
mortal wound tightly with his sarong, and saw Kamanchille in full flight after his treacherous deed.
Certain of his imminent death, Luanbakar grasped the spear and pursued the flying Kamanchille, shouting
for him to wait and he would show how the wild boar could die. Gaining on the youth, the latter
glancing over his shoulder, tripped over a mangrove root and fell. At this moment Luanbakar threw the
lance with such dexterity that it passed completely through his slayer, and at the same time, he fell
exhausted beside the body of his enemy. In the moment before their deaths, he whispered in the ear
of Kamanchille that the Great Bathala would be their judge, that he forgave the cowardly blow, and that
he would so testify. And so they died together.
Macapuno, noting that Kamanchille did not return after passing that way and apprehensive of his attitude
came to the dike. It was deserted, but the trail of blood told the story as she followed it to where they
lay side by side in death. Tears welled from her eyes for the fate of her relative and her lover, and for
some time, she gave herself up to silent sorrow. Stifling her grief, she piled branches on the pair and
returned to the house resolved to say nothing and to keep silence over the affair. Guanar, returning
later, asked her about the whereabouts of the two, and she replied that the bayani and Kamanchille
had gone hunting and awaited him in a distant part of the forest which then extended through Paco—
named after its edible ferns—to Sapa itself. Grasping his spear, he left hastily for the supposed
rendezvous, sensing that his brother was leading the stranger to his death.
Upon his departure Macapuno took a wooden spade and returned to the scene of the tragedy. The night
had set and turned dark and stormy. Rain from over the distant mountain pattered on the forest
canopies and the lagoon. The wind blew in fitful gusts, chilling her during her terrible task. Without aid
of light, she excavated a deep grave in which she placed both bodies, weeping bitterly the while, the
work taking some hours to finish. After washing herself in the waters of the river, she returned to the
house and prepared a meal for Guanar. He returned about midnight carrying a deer which had fallen to
his spear and remarking that he had not found a trace of either his brother or the bayani, although he
had searched the entire forest. Macapuno assured him they would return the next day without doubt.
The succeeding day Guanar himself continued the work on the fishpond. Upon noticing the traces of
blood he reported it to Macapuno, who replied that it is probably that of some wounded animal in the
fight. While the explanation did not satisfy Guanar, he said nothing. Some months passed, and the
hunters did not return nor was anything further heard of them. The ancient warrior, Tidoy, passed on,
and they were still more alone. She took the child across the Pasig, entrusting it to an old woman to
bring up. No mention was made of its parents, but princess left with the old crone all her ornaments as
recompense—all the property she had left in the world.
Macapuno returned sadly to her menial tasks with nothing but memories. The daily gnawing of conscience
tormented her. Unable to stand these, together with the buffetings of fate, she arrayed herself in her
best garments, carefully weighted them with stones, went to the end of the dike and threw herself into
the river, thus ending the tragedy. Guanar, finding her absent, searched for her high and low, finally
discovering her corpse on a sandbar near the mouth of the Pasig. His sorrow was great, but no
amount of remorse could alter the facts. Recovering the body he dug a grave on the bank in which he
buried the unfortunate Macapuno, but he had nothing to mark the spot.
Looking around he saw a coconut floating past in the current. This he retrieved and planted in the grave to
permanently mark it. Returning to the lonely house, he in turn became disconsolate, brooding over the
circumstances that left him the sole survivor of all his exiled family. He resolved to return to the land of
his birth and take service under some datu. He paddled out to the island of Takaykay from whence he
took passage in a boat bearing the tribute to the Sultan of Brunei, the last of his race.
Years passed and the coconut planted on the grave of Macapuno grew up into a noble palm bearing fruit
in turn. While not so tall as its species, its graceful fronds hid an abundance of small round nuts. But
these were entirely different from the ordinary variety, being solid, full of meat, and much sweeter to
taste. The wandering traders of Kalilaya and Bai took these nuts to propagate, and they were thus in
high demand.

H0045
May not the palm have absorbed the agreeable qualities of the unfortunate princess—her perfection of
form, her sweetness of temper? That at least is the legend, for this variety of coconut is known by all
and is called Macapuno.
During festivities and special occasions, epic poems and songs on super-natural events or heroic
deeds are performed like: Ulalim and Gisumbi (Kalinga), Guman (Subanon), Darangan
(Maranao), Hudhud (Ifugao), Ibalon (Bicol), Ulagingen and Selch (Manobo), Biag ni Lam-
Ang (Ilocano), Hinilawod (Sulod), Kudaman and Dagoy (Palawan), Sud-Sud (Tagbanua),
Mangovayt Buhong na Langit (Manobo), Ag Tobig neg Keboklagan (Subanon), Tudbulol
(Tiboli), Parang Sabil (Sulu), Panglima Munggona and Jikiri (Tausug), Bidian (Ibaloy),
Labaw Donggon (Panay), Agyu (Bukidnon), and Diawot (Mansaka)
Biag ni Lam-Ang (Ilocano)
In Nalbuan (La Union) lived Namongan and her husband Don Juan Panganiban. At the time, Namongan
was getting ready to deliver her first born, but Don Juan had to go to the mountains to punish an Igorot
band. While her husband was away, Namongan gave birth to a baby boy. The baby boy was very
strange because he could talk from the moment he was born and even told his mother that he should
be named Lam-ang. He also chose his own baptismal sponsor and asked his mother where his father
was.
When Lam-ang was nine months old and his father had not yet returned, the boy resolved to go after his
father. While traveling, he dreamed one night of Igorots celebrating the death of his father. He woke up
in anger, believing his dreams to be true. He travelled faster after this and soon reached the place in
which he found many Igorots still celebrating around the severed head of his father. He slew them all
except one whom he tortured first before releasing.
Upon returning to Nalbuan, several women friends gave him a bath in the Amburayan river. So much was
the dirt and so evil was the smell taken off his body that all the fish in the river died.
Later, Lam-ang fell in love with a girl named Ines Kannoyan, daughter of the richest man in Kalanutian.
Although his mother tried to dissuade him, he nevertheless took a white rooster and a dog with him as
he went forth to court Ines.
On the way to Kalanutian, he met another suitor of Ines. His rival's name was Sumarang. Upon knowing
they were rivals, the two quarreled violently, and Lam-ang slew Sumarang.
Arriving at the house of Ines Kannoyan, Lam-ang found a crowd of rivals vying for the hand of the lady so
he made his white rooster crow mightily to impress everyone, and immediately a house in the
neighborhood collapsed to the ground. The people shouted in surprise and fear.
Hearing the noise of the shouts, Ines Kannoyan looked out her window. This was what Lam-ang expected,
and to impress her, he made his dog growl this time. And the house that collapsed before went up
from the ground and rebuilt itself as if nothing happened. Duly impressed, Ines Kannoyan and her
parents came down and learned from the rooster of the intentions of Lam-ang. Her parents said they
would bestow the hand of Ines upon Lam-ang if the suitor could equal their wealth consisting of lands
and gold.
Lam-ang went home and prepared for his wedding. When he returned to Kalanutian, he and his
companions were aboard a vessel of gold which more than matched the wealth of his future parents-
in-law. Because of this, Lam-ang and Ines were married and there was great celebration.
After some time, the headman of the town reminded Lam-ang that his turn to catch rarang (a kind of fish)
had come. Lam-ang told Ines that he had a premonition he would be bitten by a big fish called
berkakan (of the shark family) while fishing. It was as he said it would be and he was killed in the sea.
Later on the white rooster told Ines that if the bones of Lam-ang could be recovered and gathered
together, he might be revived from the dead. And so, with the help of a diver named Marcos, the bones
of Lam-ang were collected, and with the loving ministrations of the white rooster, the dog, and Ines
Kannoyan, Lam-ang lived again.

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Darangan (Maranao)
This epic tells of the sentimental and romantic adventures of noble Maranao warriors, the most famous of
which is about a warrior-prince called Bantugan. Prince Bantugan was the brother of the chieftain of a
village called Bumbaran. Bantugan owned a magic shield, was protected by divine spirits called
Tonongs, and was capable of rising from the dead. His enemies once attacked Bumbaran, thinking he
was dead. But, in the nick of time, Bantugan’s soul was recovered so that he rose from the dead and
saved the village.
One time, Prince Bantugan was on a quest and fought his enemies with his magic kampilan (native sword).
But then he got tired and fell into the water where a crocodile snatched him and delivered him to his
enemies. After regaining his strength, Bantugan escaped his captors and commanded an oarless ship,
thus winning the battle.
The epic Darangan is similar to Homer’s Iliad and Odyssey, where there are stories of wars about
abducted princesses, just like the chronicles of the Greek Trojan War.
Hinilawod (Sulod, Visayan)

When the goddess of the eastern sky Alunsina (also known as Laun Sina, "The Unmarried One") reached
maidenhood, the king of the gods, Kaptan, decreed that she should marry. All the unmarried gods of
the different domains of the universe tried their luck to win her hand, but to no avail. She chose to
marry a mortal, Datu Paubari, the mighty ruler of Halawod.
Her decision angered her other suitors. They plotted to bring harm to the newlyweds. A meeting of the
council of gods was called by Maklium-sa-t’wan, god of the plains, where a decision by those present
was made to destroy Halawod by flood.
Alunsina and Paubari escaped harm through the assistance of Suklang Malayon, the goddess and
guardian of happy homes and sister of Alunsina, who learned of the evil plot and warned the two so
they were able to seek refuge on higher ground.
After the flood waters subsided, Paubari and Alunsina returned to the plains secretly. They settled near the
mouth of the Halawod river.
Several months later, Alunsina became pregnant and told Paubari to prepare the siklot, things necessary
for childbirth. She delivered a set of triplets and summoned the high priest Bungot-Banwa to perform
the rites of the gods of Mount Madya-as (the mountain abode of the gods) to ensure the good health of
the children. The high priest promptly made an altar and burned some alanghiran fronds and a pinch of
kamangyan. When the ceremony was over, he opened the windows of the north side of the room and
a cold northernly wind came in and suddenly the three infants were transformed into strong, handsome
young men.
Labaw Donggon, the eldest of the three, asked his mother to prepare his magic cape, hat, belt, and
kampilan (sword), for he heard of a place called Handug where a beautiful maiden named Angoy
Ginbitinan lived.
The journey took several days. He walked across valleys and plains, climbed up mountains until he
reached the mouth of the Halawod river. When he finally met the maiden's father and asked for her
hand in marriage, her father asked him to fight the monster Manalintad as part of his dowry. He went
off to confront the monster and with the help of his magic belt, Labaw Donggon killed the monster and,
to prove his feat, brought to Angoy Ginbitinan's father the monster's tail.
After the wedding, Labaw Donggon proceeded home with his new bride. Along the way they met a group
of young men who told him that they were on their way to Tarambang Burok to win the hand of Abyang
Durunuun, sister of Sumpoy (the lord of the Underworld) and whose beauty was legendary.
Labaw Donggon and his bride continued on their journey home. The moment they arrived home, Labaw
Donggon told his mother to take care of his wife because he is taking another quest, this time he was
going to Tarambang Burok.
Before he can get to the place he has to pass a ridge guarded by a giant named Sikay Padalogdog who
has a hundred arms. The giant would not allow Labaw Donggon to go through without a fight.
However, Sikay Padalogdog was no match to Labaw Donggon's prowess and skill in fighting so he
gave up and allowed him to continue.

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Labaw Donggon won the hand of Abyang Durunuun and also took her home. Before long he went on
another journey, this time it is to Gadlum to ask for the hand of Malitong Yawa Sinagmaling Diwata
who is the young bride of Saragnayan, the lord of darkness.
This trip required him to use his biday nga inagta (black boat) on which he sailed across the seas for many
months, went across the region of the clouds, passed the land of stones until finally he reached the
shores of Tulogmatian which was the seaside fortress of Saragnayan. The moment he set foot on the
ground, Saragnayan asked him, “Who are you and why are you here?” To which he answered, “I am
Labaw Donggon, son of Datu Paubari and goddess Alunsina of Halawod. I came for the beautiful
Malitong Yawa Sinagmaling Diwata.”
Saragnayan laughed. He told Labaw Donggon that what he wished for was impossible to grant because
she was his wife. Labaw Donggon then challenged Saragnayan to a duel saying that whoever wins will
have her.
The challenge was accepted and they started fighting. Labaw Donggon submerged Saragnayan under
water for seven years, but when he let go of him, Saragnayan was still alive. The latter uprooted a
coconut tree and started beating Labaw Donggon with it. Labaw Donggon survived the beating but
was not able to surpass the powers of Saragnayan's pamlang (amulet), and eventually gave up and
was imprisoned by Saragnayan beneath his house.
Back home, Angoy Ginbitinan and Abyang Durunuun both delivered sons. Angoy Ginbitinan's child was
named Aso Mangga and Abyang Durunuun's son was called Abyang Baranugon.
Only a few days after they were born, Aso Mangga and Abyang Baranugon embarked to look for their
father. They rode their sailboats through the region of eternal darkness, passed the region of the
clouds and the land of stones, finally reaching Saragnayan's home. Saragnayan noticed that Abyang
Baranugon's umbilical cord have not yet been removed, he laughed and told the child to go home to
his mother.
Abyang Baranugon was slighted by the remarks and immediately challenged Saragnayan to a duel. They
fought and Abyang Baranugon defeated Saragnayan and won his father's freedom.
Labaw Donggon's defeat and subsequent imprisonment by Saragnayan also angered his brothers.
Humadapnon was so enraged that he swore to the gods of Madya-as that he would wreak revenge on
all of Saragnayan's kinsmen and followers.
Humadapnon prepared to go to Saragnayan's domain. He employed the aid of Buyong Matanayon of
Mount Matiula who was well-known for his skill in swordsmanship. For their journey they rode on a
sailboat called biday nga rumba-rumba. They travelled through the region of the clouds, passed by the
region of eternal darkness, and ended up at a place called Tarambang Buriraw. In this place was a
ridge called Talagas Kuting-tang where a seductive sorceress named Piganun lived.
Piganun changed herself to a beautiful maiden and captured the heart of Humadapnon. Buyong
Matanayon begged with Humadapnon to leave the place with him but the latter refused. After seven
months passed, Buyong Matanayon remembered that they have brought with them some ginger. One
evening at dinner time Buyong Matanayon threw seven slices of ginger into the fire. When Pinganun
smelled the odor of burning ginger she left the dinner table because sorcerers hated the odor of
ginger. Immediately Buyong Matanayon struck Humadapnon, who became unconscious. He dragged
his friend with him and they were able to escape.
They continued with their trek and everywhere they went they exacted revenge on all of Saragnayan's
people and relatives. One day they reached a place called Piniling Tubig who was ruled by Datu
Umbaw Pinaumbaw. There was a big gathering in the village and when they asked what was going on
they were told that the datu was giving his daughter for marriage to whoever could remove the huge
boulder that rolled from a mountain into the center of the village. Many men tried their luck but no one
so far was able to even move the stone.
Humadapnon took off his magic cape and used it to lift the stone and threw it back into the mountain. The
datu kept his word and Humadapnon married his daughter. During the wedding feast, Humadapnon
heard about the beauty of the goddess of greed, Burigadang Pada Sinaklang Bulawan, from a guest
minstrel who sang at the celebration.
After the wedding Humadapnon went to seek the hand of the goddess in marriage. Along the way he
encountered Buyong Makabagting, son of the mighty Datu Balahidyong of Paling Bukid who was also
travelling with the same purpose in mind. Upon learning of Humadapnon's intent, Buyong Makabagting
challenged him to a duel. They fought and Buyong Makabagting was no match to Humadapnon's
H0045
strength and skill. The fight ended when Buyong Makabagting surrendered and even promised to aid
Humadapnon in his quest. Humadapnon married the goddess and brought her home.
Meanwhile, right after Humadapnon left to seek Saragnayan's followers and relatives, his brother
Dumalapdap left for Burutlakan-ka-adlaw where the maiden Lubay-Lubyok Hanginun si
Mahuyokhuyokon lived. For the trip, he brought along Dumasig, the most powerful wrestler in Madya-
as.
Several months later they came to a place called Tarambuan-ka-banwa where they encountered the two-
headed monster Balanakon who guarded a narrow ridge leading to the place where the maiden lived.
With the aid of Dumasig, Dumalapdap killed Balanakon. However, upon approaching the gate of the
palace where the maiden lived, he was confronted by Uyutang, a bat-like monster with sharp
poisonous claws. There ensued a bloody battle between Humadapnon and the monster. They fought
for seven months and their skill and prowess seemed to be equal. But on the seventh month,
Humadapnon was able to grab Uyutang's ankle and broke it. Then he took his iwang daniwan (magic
dagger) and stabbed Uyutang under the armpit. Uyutang cried out so loud that the ridge where they
were fighting broke into two and there was an earthquake. Half of the ridge became the island of
Buglas (Negros) and the other became the island of Panay.
Dumalapdap married Lubay-Lubyok Hanginun si Mahuyokhuyokan and then took her home. Datu Paubari
was very happy when he was reunited with his three sons and he prepared a feast in their honor. After
the celebration, the three brothers left for different parts of the world. Labaw Donggon went to the
north, Humadapnon went south, Dumalapdap to the west, and Datu Paubari remained in the east.
The Further Adventures of Humadapnon

A message from his spirit friends, Taghoy and Duwindi, came to Humadapnon in his sleep. In his dream he
was told that a lovely maiden named Nagmalitong Yawa lived in a village by the mouth of the Halawod
river. Humadpnon was the chief of the Sulod Nation whose people occupied an area close to the
source of the Panay river.
Humadapnon went to look for the maiden. He rode his golden boat for the journey. One day his boat was
taken by a mysterious force that led it to a stagnant sea where the water was the color of human
blood. It took Humadapnon and his crew seven months to cross this body of water.
They all thought they were safe until a strong wind came upon them and the boat was blown into a
passage near the mouth of the Saruma river where two islands continuously hit each other at intervals.
With the help of his spirit friends, Humadapnon was able to navigate his boat through the channel
safely.
One day they came upon an island called Tarangban which was inhabited by beautiful women headed by
a sorceress named Ginmayunan. Through the use of her charms and magic she persuaded
Humadapnon to stay. Later Humadapnon and his crew were imprisoned by the women in the island for
seven years.
Taghoy and Duwindi went to seek the help of Nagmalitong Yawa to free their friend. Nagmalitong Yawa,
disguised as a man named Buyung Sunmasakay, won the freedom of Humadapnon and his crew.
Afterwards, Buyung Sunmasakay performed a ritual which removed the charms of Ginmayunan on
Humadapnon. When Buyung Sunmasakay transformed back into Nagmalitong Yawa, Humadapnon
was struck by her beauty and immediately asked for her hand in marriage.
The maiden, who was also in love with him, told Humadapnon that she has to go back home to ask the
blessings of her parents before she gets married. So they proceeded to Halawod. Along the way
Humadapnon encountered Buyung Paglambuhan who ruled an island fortress in the middle of the sea.
He vanquished the latter. Humadapnon and Nagmalitong Yawa were married in Halawod.
During the wedding feast, Dumalapdap met Huyung Adlaw, the daughter of one of the guests,
Nabalansang Sukla who was the god of the Upperworld. Dumalapdap requested his brother
Humadapnon to help him talk to the maiden's parents. They planned to go to the Upperworld after the
wedding feast.
The journey took seven years. Matan-ayon, Humadapnon's mother, suggested to Malitong Yawa that she
should marry again for it seems that her husband is not coming back. Nagmalitong Yawa decided to
re-marry, this time to a man named Buyung Sumagulung, son of Mamang Paglambuhan who ruled an
island fortress. The wedding ceremony was about to start when Humadapnon and Dumalapdap
returned. At a distance Humadapnon blew his horn to signal his arrival. Those who were gathered for
H0045
the ceremony grew fearful and some of the men went to the shoreline to meet the brothers and inform
them of what was happening. The two were so angered that they killed all guests and the groom.
Humadapnon confronted his wife about her treachery. She explained that it was his mother who made the
suggestion for her to re-marry. Humadapnon stabbed his wife to death. Later his conscience bothered
him for what he did to his wife. His spirit friends also told him that his wife was not at fault and that
what he did was unjust.
With remorse in his heart he approached his sister Labing Anyag and asked for her help, for she had the
power to bring back life to the dead. Seeing that her brother was geniunely sorry for what he did, she
complied and brought back Nagmalitong Yawa from the dead.
Nagmalitong Yawa also felt shame for what she did to her husband so she ran away from him and went to
the Underworld which was ruled by her uncle, Panlinugun, who is lord of the earthquake. Humadapnon
followed her to the Underworld, killing the eight-headed snake that guarded the channel leading to the
place. She ran towards the Upperworld but half-way, between the Middleworld and the Upperworld,
she was spirited away by a young man riding on the shoulders of the wind.
Humadapnon caught up with them and challenged the stranger to a duel. They fought for seven years with
no one gaining the upperhand. The long fight was being witnessed by Alunsina from above. She got
tired watching the contest so she came down to settle the case.
During the deliberations it was revealed to everyone's surprise that the stanger was Amarotha, also a son
of Alunsina who died at childbirth but was brought back to life by her to keep her company. Alunsina
decided that each man was entitled to a part of Nagmalitong Yawa so she ordered that the latter's
body be cut in half. One half went to Humadapnon and the other to Amarotha. Alunsina then turned
each half into a whole live person.
Humadapnon brought his wife back to Panay and ruled the island for centuries.
Hudhud (Ifugao)
This epic tells about the lives of native Ifugao heroes, the most notable of which is about Aliguyon of the
village of Gonhandan. Aliguyon was endowed with supernatural powers and limitless energy. He could
travel long distances without food and rest. He could arrive at his destination as perked up as when he
made his first step. Aliguyon was invincible in battle—he could catch spears in mid-flight and could
fight overwhelming combatants. At first, he was obsessed in killing his father's enemies, but it turns out
that his old man had no enemies so that Aliguyon’s father suggested that he marry a worthy girl
instead. At one time, he had a duel with Pumbakhayon, a warrior of equal strength and agility from a
village called Daligdigan. They fought for about a year and a half, then rested and fought again for
another year and a half. Later on, the two reached a compromise and Aliguyon married
Pumbakhayon's sister Bugan. Likewise, Pumbakhayon married Aliguyon's sister Aginaya and they
lived happily ever after.
Ibalon (Bicolano)
This epic relates the mystical origins of the first man and the first woman of Aslon and Ibalon, which are the
current provinces of Camarines, Albay, Sorsogon, Catanduanes, and Masbate. Hiandong, one of the
heroes of Ibalon, (others were Baltog and Bantong) was a great leader of warriors who fought against
a giant cyclops for ten months, defeated the winged Tiburon and the fierce Sarimao, and won over the
seductive serpent Oriol before starting a village. His village prospered and soon, its inhabitants
invented the plough, harrow, and other farming implements. Events in this epic also had a story of the
Flood similar to that of the Biblical Genesis.
References:
Eugenio, D. (1982). Philippine Folk Literature: An Anthology, Vol. 1. Quezon City: Folklore Studies
Program and U.P. Folklorists, Inc.
Eugenio, D. (1994). Philippine Folk Literature: The Proverbs. Quezon City: University of the Philippines
Press.
“Philippine People”. DLSU Litera1 No4: Philippine Literature.
http://litera1no4.tripod.com/phlppl_frame.html, retrieved March 2009.

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Literature Research Log

Direction: Fill out the table below by answering the questions before, during, and after doing your
research on an author, literary work, story character, place/setting, or historical context.
Research Questions:
What do you want to know?
Where did you look (library, Internet, interviews)?
What are your resources? Include book title, author or URL if Internet-based.
What answers did you get?
What new questions do you have?
Research Reflection:
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History of Philippine Literature: Pre-Colonial to Spanish Colonial Period *Property of STI

Supplement Page 1 of 16
H0045
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give you an idea on the style and tone of his/her literary works.
Beliefs,
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Characteristic Expressions:
Name
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in Life:
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Poem Analysis Web: Step 1

Direction: Fill in the shapes of the web below with your personal observations after reading the
poem. Add extra shapes when necessary. Use this to fill out your poem analysis chart.
Key Words:
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Poet
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Poem Analysis Chart: Step 2

Direction: Fill out the table below using the ideas in your brainstorming/web about the poem.
Title:
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Meaning Devices Sound Devices
Tactile: Alliteration:
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Visual: Onomatopoeia:
Gustatory: Rhyme:
Metaphor:
Simile:
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Apostrophe:
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Linguistic
Devices
Parallelism:
Personal Response: (this could also be written as a short essay)

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Poetry Comparison Map

Direction: After reading two poems, write a statement about their common theme in the topmost
box. In the center boxes, list the two poems’ similarities. List their differences in the side
boxes. Use the left boxes for one poem and the right boxes for the other poem. In the box at
the bottom, explain what you learned about the two poems.
Theme:
Poem 1: Both: Poem 2:
Reflection:

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Outcomes and Actions Map

Direction: Before reading a short story/novel or proceeding to the next chapter/event in the story,
try to guess what will happen by filling out the boxes below.
I predict: (event)
Because:
The actual event: ___________________________________________________________

___________________________________________________________________________
___________________________________________________________________________
___________________________________________________________________________
___________________________________________________________________________
Character’s Name:
What this character did:
Why he/she did it:
How this character felt when the event happened:

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Sample Character Traits

Direction: Use a dictionary/thesaurus to look up more character traits for a person in a story.
able cooperative frustrated loving satisfied
active courageous funny loyal scared
adventurous cowardly gentle lucky secretive
affectionate cruel giving mature selfish
afraid curious glamorous mean serious
alert dangerous gloomy messy short
ambitious daring good miserable shy
angry decisive graceful mysterious silly
annoyed demanding grateful naughty skillful
anxious dependable greedy nervous sly
apologetic depressed grouchy nice smart
arrogant determined guilty noisy sneaky
attentive discouraged happy obedient spoiled
bad dishonest harsh obnoxious stingy
bold disrespectful hateful old strange
bored doubtful healthy peaceful strict
bossy dutiful helpful picky stubborn
brainy eager honest pleasant sweet
brave easy-going hopeful polite talented
bright efficient hopeless poor tall
brilliant embarrassed humorous popular thankful
busy encouraging ignorant positive thoughtful
calm energetic imaginative precise thoughtless
careful evil impatient proud tired
careless excited impolite quick tolerant
cautious expert inconsiderate quiet touchy
charming fair independent rational trusting
cheerful faithful industrious reliable trustworthy
childish fearless innocent religious unfriendly
clever fierce intelligent responsible upset
clumsy foolish jealous restless weak
concerned fortunate kindly rich wicked
confident foul lazy rowdy wise
confused fresh lively rude worried
considerate friendly lonely sad young

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Character Sketch Web: Step 1

Direction: Think of a symbol/object to identify the person in the short story/novel. Draw it and label
it with the character’s name. Below the name, write adjectives to describe that person and the
examples/scenes in the story to support that trait. Add lines/rows and arrows when necessary.
Use this web to fill out your character chart.
1. Brainstorming
__________________________________
Name
_________________ _________________ _________________

Adjective Adjective Adjective
_________________ _________________ _________________

_________________ _________________ _________________
_________________ _________________ _________________
Example Example Example
_________________ _________________
Adjective Adjective
_________________ _________________
_________________ _________________
_________________ _________________
Example Example
_____________________________________________________________________________
_____________________________________________________________________________
_____________________________________________________________________________
_____________________________________________________________________________

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Character Sketch Chart: Steps 2-3

Direction: Fill out the character table below to give you a clearer look at a person in a piece of
writing (poem, short story, novel). Fill in each box with your brainstorming information (words,
phrases) about that character. Use this when writing a character outline for your essay later.
2. Chart
Name, Age:
Appearance:
Personality/Traits:
Example(s):
Strengths:
Example(s):
Weaknesses:
Example(s):
Goals:
Example(s):
Other Details:
3. Drawing
Direction: Illustrate/Sketch the character (literally).

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Character Sketch Outline: Steps 4-5

Direction: Fill out the character outline below with complete sentences. Use this when writing your
character sketch essay later.
4. Outline
Introduction
Write your introductory statement/main thesis.
_____________________________________________________________________________
Body
A. Write your first topic sentence (based on the chart: traits, strengths, weaknesses, goals, etc.).
_____________________________________________________________________________
1. Write your first supporting detail (see examples on the chart).
___________________________________________________________________________
2. Write your second supporting detail (see additional chart examples).
___________________________________________________________________________
3. Add more supporting details (or ignore this line).
___________________________________________________________________________
B. Write your second topic sentence.
_____________________________________________________________________________
1. Write your first supporting detail.
___________________________________________________________________________
2. Write your second supporting detail.
___________________________________________________________________________
3. Add more supporting details.
___________________________________________________________________________
C. Write your third topic sentence.
_____________________________________________________________________________
1. Write your first supporting detail.
___________________________________________________________________________
2. Write your second supporting detail.
___________________________________________________________________________
3. Add more supporting details.
___________________________________________________________________________
Conclusion
Write your concluding statement.
_____________________________________________________________________________
5. Essay
Direction: Next, use the above outline to begin writing the first draft of your character sketch
essay. Use transition words between sentences/paragraphs.

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Story Setting Chart

Direction: Fill out the table below after reading the short story/novel.
Where does the story take When does the story take Changes in the setting
place? place? during the story:
Direction: Draw the setting(s)/location(s) as you imagined it from the story.

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Storyboard
Direction: Using the six panels below draw a comic strip with word balloons illustrating the key
events in the short story/novel that you read. Arrange the events in chronological order.
Scene 1: Scene 2:
Scene 3: Scene 4:
Scene 5: Scene 6:

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Story Map
Direction: After reading the short story/novel, fill in the boxes below to highlight important
elements/events. This web will also serve as your summary.
Title: __________________________________________ Author: _______________________
Setting: Problem/Conflict:
Characters: Event:
Event:
Climax: Event:
Resolution:

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“Somebody Wanted” Chart

Direction: After reading the short story/novel, fill out the chart below using the word cues/gap-filled
sentence: “Somebody wanted…but…so…finally…” to write a summary.
Title: Somebody (choose a character)
Author:
Wanted (plot or goal) But (tell the problem)
So (tell events leading to solution) Finally (tell the solution)
_____________________________________________________________________________
_____________________________________________________________________________
_____________________________________________________________________________

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Literature Reasoning Web

Direction: After reading the short story/novel, answer the questions by filling in the circles below.
What assumptions What evidence
does the author Assumptions Data, Evidence is presented
make about that the central
the concept character
of change? is motivated
by a given
emotion?
What concepts
are central to
What is the central understanding
issue in the the story?
story?
Issue Concept
Main Thesis
What are
the implications From what
of character point of view is
behavior in the story told?
the story?
Implications Point of View
What inferences
might be made
about the ending
of the story?
What is the Purpose Inferences
author’s
purpose
for story?
_____________________________________________________________________________
_____________________________________________________________________________
_____________________________________________________________________________

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Decision-Making Web
Direction: After reading the short story/novel, fill out the boxes below to determine whether the main/your chosen character has made sound
decisions/good judgment.
Application of personal values Aiming at personal objectives or

goals
Factors
that go into
making a good decision
Knowledge of relevant facts Absence of prejudices and

preconceptions
Awareness of alternatives Consideration of consequences
History of Philippine Literature: Pre-Colonial to Spanish Colonial Period Property of STI

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Literature under Spain

The Spaniards brought their language and culture, established a class system that was based on
race, and imposed Roman Catholicism on the Filipino people.
The natives, called indios, were not all taught the Spanish language.
Religious lyrics written by bilingual ladino poets versed in both Spanish and Tagalog were
included in catechism to teach the Filipino elite Spanish—like the dalit appended to novenas.
El Padre Nuestro (The Lord’s Prayer in Spanish)
Padre nuestro Father ours Y perdónanos And forgive us

que estás en who art in nuestras deudas our debts,
los cielos, the heavens, como también as also
santificado sea blessed be nosotros we forgive
tu nombre thy name perdonamos our debtors
a nuestros deudores
Venga tu reino Come thy kingdom And do not put us
hágase tu voluntad be done thy will Y no nos metas into temptations,
como en el cielo as it is in heaven en tentaciones but free us
así también so also mas líbranos from evil
en la tierra on the earth del mal
For thine
El pan nuestro The bread ours Porque tuyo is the kingdom
de cada día of each day es el reino and the power
dánoslo hoy give us it today y el poder and the glory
y la gloria for all the centuries
por todos los siglos Amen.
Amén.
Doctrina Christiana was the first book printed in the Philippines in 1593.
The Seven Sacraments (original Spanish / Tagalog excerpt)
Los sacramentos de la san Pito ang mahal natanda

cta madre ygtia son siete. ycauauala nang casalanan ang
ngalan sacramentos.
El primero baptismo. El segu Ang naona ang baptismo. Ang

do confirmacion. El tercero Pe ycalua ang confirmar. Ang y
nitencia. El quarto, comunio. catlo ang confesar. Ang yca
El quinto extrema uncion. El pat ang comulgar. Ang ycali
septimo, orden de matrimonio. ma ang extrema uncion. Ang
ycanim ang orden nang sacerdo
te. Ang ycapito ang pagcasal.
Itong daluan holi pinatotooba
nang dios ang tauo piliin ang
balan ybig. Amen.
Poet-translator Gaspar Aquino de Belen wrote devotional poetry in the form of the Pasyon.
Aral (excerpt, final part)
Oh mga Kristianong tanan Talikdan na ngang totoo

na mapagbantog na aral ang mga banal sa mundo
mag-isp ka na’t magnilay, tumulad kay Hesukristo,
loob nating salawahan nang tayo’y huwag mabuyo
sa gawang di katuwiran. sa aral ng mga lilo.
History of Philippine Literature: Spanish Colonial Period *Property of STI

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Ang ating mga katawan At kung di ka gumanito

di sasala’t mamamatay sa aba mo ngang aba mo
gayon din ang dilang bagay, walang pagsalang totoo,
ginto’t pilak kayamanan sapilitang daratnin mo
ang lahat ay matutunaw. hirap sakit sa impierno.
Ano at di pa magbawa Samantalang may oras pa

mga gawa mong lahat na? ay maglaan kang maaga
bakit di ka mabalisa, kung gumabi’t dumilim na,
loob na napalamara ay lalong maghihirap ka
sa gawang pagkakasala? gumawa’y ngangapa-ngapa.
Ano at di pa malumbay Ang puso mo’t iyong loob

tayo at di kilabutan iyong ialay sa Diyos
kung ang lalong mga banal magsisi ka na’t matakot
nanginginig ang katawan ng marating mong tibobos
kung ito’y magunam-gunam? ang bayan ng Santa’t Santos.
Oh taong nakalilimot At kung marating na naman

sa sala’y nakakatulog ang Langit na kapisanan
pukawin ang iyong loob, ay doon na makakamtan
at isipin mong tibobos ang yama’t kaginhawahan
ang sa mundong pagkatapos. ng Diyos Poong Maykapal.
Wakas
The colonizers introduced the theater: the komedya (moro-moro), the sinakulo, and the sarswela.
The Moro-Moro in Perspective (essay)
by Rustica C. Carpio
WHEN WE THINK of folk forms, we cannot dissociate them from the customs, traditions, beliefs,
rituals, and even superstitions of a people. One folk form is the moro-moro which has flourished since
1650. It is believed that the moro-moro is an offshoot of a chivalric-heroic poem called the awit and a
legendary religious poem called the corrido that had swept the country as early as 1610 up to the
beginning of the 20th century. Very reminiscent of the Spanish metrical romances, the moro-moro tells of
the loves and brilliant deeds and adventures of kings and queens, of princes and princesses, of counts and
dukes. It also relates of giants, tigers, lions, bears, serpents, dragons, angels, saints, and devils. Often
tinged with supernatural and miraculous forces, it may present poisons, magic rings, birds that drop
messages, or people who get enchanted in the forest. The hero is expected to emerge victorious despite
all obstacles and to risk his life for the hand of his lady love. It is said that once, at a presentation in the
Visayas, spectacular devices like Roman candles, rockets, sparklers, and even bombs were employed to
show the supernatural powers of some giant. However, despite all these, the giant still lost in the fight.
The Mohammedan Filipino, now called Moro, had been named after the Moors, and since the play
usually deals with the struggle between the Christians (usually Catholics) and the non-Christians (almost
always the Muslims), the play got its name, moro-moro.
Played Outdoors
Moro-moro is performed not necessarily for the mere entertainment of the people, but specially to
celebrate the town or barrio fiesta in honor of the patron saint. The Spanish friars between the 16th century
and the early part of the 17th century contributed much in popularizing this form.
The moro-moro is usually performed on an outdoor stage. The actors’ entrances and exits are stylized,
the gestures and movements broad and exaggerated, and the poetic lines and verses recited in
declamatory, sing-song tone, with religious adherence to rhythm and intonation. Experienced actors not
infrequently use slurs and exceptionally high pitches even as, at times, they improvise or ad lib lines that
are not originally found in the play.
Specially in the Visayas, a stage may be permanently constructed for each new production. There, one
finds stages bigger than those in Luzon. One sees an assortment of materials in the making of the

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makeshift stage—nipa palm shingles for roof and walls, coconut trunks for beams, wooden pieces for floor,
and bamboo running horizontally to serve as supporting structure at the back of the platform.
The regions vary in their ways of presenting moro-moro. In Luzon, specially in the Tagalog and Ilocano
regions, permanent background which contains doorways is used; each doorway has a name to identify
the place or kingdom it leads to. In the Visayas, on the other hand, the change of scenery is shown by a
change of talon (backdrop or curtain), often embellished with colorful paintings, and which is rolled up or
drawn to the side.
A moro-moro may start with an invocation to God or to the Virgin Mary, and may also sing praise to the
patron saint being honored. Then, as the play starts, it presents the characters to the audience in either of
the following methods. The characters sing in chorus and profess their dedication to the audience and to
the performance. They may be identified one by one in the opening poetry and their roles described. The
characters may be made to march around the stage to martial music supplied by a brass or string band.
Normally, the actors move in a stylized way. Their entrances and exits are characterized by a slow,
formal march around the stage. They may also make a formal bow to the audience until they reach their
assigned places, a cue for the band to stop playing the march whether it is finished or not.
Dueling, an ever-present factor, is very stylized, too. Hardly is there a moro-moro play that is ever
completed without any clash of arms. In fact, the word moro-moro itself connotes fighting. The two
opposing factions exchange heated words after which battle music, and thence mime-dance with sweeping
of weapons, ensue. Fencing, done in rhythmic strokes, characteristic of clock-and-dagger performances,
begins first with a warm-up and reaches its climax. The sound of steel swords then vanishes; the fighting is
over; the dialogue then resumes again.
Marathon Show
Moro-moro has remained unchanged, basically. A story may be finished in three nights’ presentation
running for five to six hours each night. In certain places, it is staged in the mornings, while elsewhere, it is
shown in the afternoons. Because of its marathon length (the longest presentation is known to have lasted
12 days), it is rather difficult for the players to memorize all their lines. Thus, the audience is apt to see the
prompter, who in many cases is also author-director of the play, on the stage dictating the sequences
almost line by line.
At times, an opening is bored down near the edge of the stage and the prompter sits there, hidden
from the audience by a colored covering that shields him/her from view. And, because of its length again,
the moro-moro script is very seldom printed. Very often, only a single script is made, and this does not
always stand the tests and calamities wrought by time and weather. Many times, authorship is anonymous.
The “dramatis personae” almost always come from the poor and middle-class families. It seems that
those from the well-to-do and educated groups, especially girls, do not participate. They frown upon the art
as perhaps their parents more than doubly so.
Some of the troupes performing are quite professional and experienced, and have been doing the job
from year to year. The most noted of these groups comes from the barrio of San Dionisio, in Parañaque,
Rizal. The legend goes that San Dionisio, the patron saint of the barrio, a martyr of the Catholic Church
who was beheaded in the Middle Ages while preaching the gospel, refuses to have anything aside from a
moro-moro to celebrate his feast. If this is not done so, there would be rain or inclement weather or
perhaps poor harvest in the coming season. On this group’s staging of one moro-moro alone, some
P15,000 was spent on costumes, stage props, rehearsal expenses including food of participants, fees, and
other items. Rehearsals for a production on a grandiose scale last for at least six months.
Costumes
The costumes worn may be lavish or simple, depending upon the budget and the materials available.
But almost always, there is the display of flashy and loud-colored attire. In many cases, the male Christians
sport pants with blue stripes, and carry themselves in a manner which spells dignity. On the other hand,
the Moros wear red-striped pants. Obviously, the Christians are dressed more elegantly—with sequins,
beads, ribbons, buttons, and plumes. The king dons long trousers, displays the crown and all the regalia
befitting royalty. The Christian queen appears in white or sky blue gown. Both male and female royalties
usually wear a cape that covers the back—the one worn by the female being longer than what the male
dons. If the princess is a Moro, she may wear pink or bright red. A fan is often carried by the female
participants on stage while diadems and coronets adorn their hair for realistic effects.

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A jester supplies the laughter element and, as in Greek plays, throws asides that send the audience to
rollicking guffaws. Children await his appearance with enthusiasm and his presence on the stage parries
their drowsiness in the middle of the evening.
Essentially of religious character, the moro-moro does have social implications. It may also unfold
stories that revolve around some medieval, legendary, or historical figures. Its special inclination to themes
of love, religious devotion, and heroic/noble deeds is very evident. Affluent in aphorisms, metaphors, and
hyperboles, its use of archaic words and high-flown dialogues still pervades. The language generally used
is Tagalog, although many moro-moro plays are also written in the languages or dialects of the different
regions of their origin.
Not a few moro-moro is presented the whole year round in different parts of the country. It is
interesting to note that the lines of each player are done in different handwriting in the script to help
individual players to follow the drama.
While the zarzuela, a musical—almost operatic—melodramatic play is more popular in the towns and
in a few cities, and despite the threat of extinction which the movies, TV sets, amateur singing contests,
and combo/band ensembles so cunningly present, the moro-moro shows promise that it might thrive for
some time yet. It has been gaining momentum and is being revived by cultural groups in the cities and in
the suburbs of the big cities as well.
(From Life is a Stage, UST Publishing House, 2001)
Literature under the Spaniards may be classified as religious or secular prose and poetry.
Notable secular poets were Jose Corazon de Jesus (Huseng Sisiw), Francisco Balagtas (Baltazar),
Leona Florentino, Jacinto Kawili, Isabelo de los Reyes, and Rafael Gandioco.
A popular type of secular poetry is the metrical romance, like the awit (Balagtas’s Florante at
Laura) and the korido (Jose de la Cruz’s Ibong Adarna) in Tagalog.
Florante at Laura (summary)
Florante at Laura by Francisco Balagtas (also known as Baltazar) is an abbreviation of the actual title
which, written in archaic Tagalog, is: “Pinagdaanang Buhay ni Florante at ni Laura sa Kaharian ng Albania:
Kinuha sa madlang ‘cuadro histórico’ o pinturang nagsasabi sa mga nangyari nang unang panahón sa
Imperio ng Grecia, at tinula ng isang matouain sa versong Tagalog.” (English: The Life of Florante and
Laura in the Kingdom of Albania: culled from historical accounts and paintings which describe what
occurred in ancient times in the empire of Greece, and penned by someone who enjoys Tagalog verse).
The book was written during Balagtas’s imprisonment where he dedicated the story to his sweetheart Celia
(a.k.a. Maria Asuncion Rivera, whom he nicknamed “M.A.R.”) who was later married to his arch rival,
Mariano “Nanong” Capule. It was Capule who made false charges against Balagtas and sent him to prison.
Florante at Laura is written in a literary form called awit (song, but in truth, is in a poetic form) and has
377 stanzas having the following characteristics: 4 lines per stanza (each stanza being a complete
grammatically-correct sentence), 12 syllables per line, and a slight pause on the 6th syllable—each stanza
filled with figures of speech.
Characters:
• Florante—Duke of Albania and the main protagonist of the novel.
• Laura—Daughter of King Linceo of Albania. She is the love interest of Florante and is later married to
him.
• Count Adolfo—Rival of Florante and the antagonist of the novel. His jealousy and envy on Florante
sparked his rebellion against the king. He was also responsible for the imprisonment of Florante. He
was killed by Flerida as he attempted to rape Laura in his escape against the forces loyal to the king.
• Aladdin/Aladin—Son of Sultan Ali-Adab of Persia. He saved Florante from being eaten by lions in the
forest. Later, he got married to his love, Flerida.
• Flerida—Aladin’s fiance. She asked Sultan Ali-Adab to spare Aladin’s life on the condition that she will
be Ali-Adab’s wife. She later escaped and killed Count Adolfo as he attempted to rape Laura.

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• Duke Briseo—Father of Florante and a nobleman of Albania. He was killed, along with King Linseo, by
Count Adolfo during his usurpation of power.
• Princess Floresca—Mother of Florante and the Princess of Crotone. She died while Florante was
studying in Athens.
• King Linceo—King of Albania and the father of Laura. He was killed by Count Adolfo during his
usurpation of power.
• Sultan Ali-Adab—Sultan of Persia and the father of Aladin. He sentenced his son to be executed
because of his cowardice in the battlefield. In exchange for Aladin’s life, Flerida promised her marriage
to the Sultan. After her escape, the Sultan committed suicide.
• Count Sileno—Father of Adolfo.
• Menalipo—Cousin of Florante. He saved Florante from vultures when they were younger.
• Menandro—Friend and confidant of Florante. They first met in Athens where Menandro saved Florante
from Adolfo’s attempt at murdering him. He and Florante both participated in a military expedition. He
also led the overthrow of Count Adolfo and restored peace in Albania.
• Antenor—Professor of Florante, Menandro, and Adolfo in Athens.
• General Osmalik—A general of Persia. He was killed by Florante during a military expedition.
• General Miramolin - General of the Ottoman Empire. He was responsible for the invasion of Albania in
order to bring the kingdom into Islamic control.
• Emir—One of the commanding officers who sacked Albania together with Aladin during the ongoing
campaign of Florante and Menandro in Crotone. He nearly killed Laura for her refusal to love him but
was defeated.
Plot:
In the Albanian forest
The story begins deep within a dark, gloomy forest. Florante, a duke of the Kingdom of Albania is tied
to a tree, lamenting the loss of his father, Duke Briseo. He is driven mad by the thought that his beloved,
Princess Laura, has fallen into the arms of his enemy, Count Adolfo, son of Count Sileno. Nearby, two
starving lions keep watch and try to attack Florante. He is saved, just in time, by Aladin, a Muslim prince
who happens to be at the forest at the same time. Weak and bewildered, Florante faints.
The merciful soldier nurses Florante to health. Upon recovery, Florante is initially taken aback by
Aladin as he considers the stranger an enemy due to his Islamic faith. However, after a few explanations
are made, Florante is grateful and begins to tell his story.
Florante’s tale
The son of a princess and a royal adviser, Florante grew up in happiness, showered with love. He liked
to play games when he was six, and was almost killed by a vulture that entered in their mountain cottage,
which was also followed by the attack of a falcon, who snatched his cupido diamante. He was saved by his
cousin Menalipo, an archer from Epirus.
At the early age of 11, his parents, Duke Briseo and Princess Floresca, sent him to Athens, Greece to
study under Antenor, a renowned teacher. There, he met Adolfo, a fellow Albanian and the brightest
student in their school. After six years of study, Florante surpassed Adolfo’s capabilities, talents, and
intelligence, gaining popularity and recognition. Adolfo took this very personally.
While acting during a school play, Adolfo attempted to kill Florante. Fortunately, Florante’s friend,
Menandro, was quick enough to intervene. Adolfo headed home to Albania after his failed attempt. One
year later, Florante received a letter from his father, announcing the death of his mother.
Though filled with grief, Florante waited two months before he returned home. Menandro, unwilling to
be separated from his friend, accompanied Florante on his journey. Upon his arrival at Albania, an
emissary of the kingdom of Crotone requested his assistance in the incoming war against the Persians.
Florante had not the will to refuse, for the King of Crotone was his grandfather.
During his stay in Albania, Florante was invited to the king’s palace. There, he was stunned by the
sight of Laura, the daughter of King Linseo, ruler of Albania.

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Coming to the aid of Crotone, Florante fought with the Persian general, Osmalik for five hours, slaying
him in the end. He stayed in Crotone for five months before returning to Albania to see Laura. Upon
returning to his native Albania, he was surprised by the sight of a Persian flag waving atop the kingdom.
He recaptured the palace from the Moros and saved his father, the king, and Adolfo who were all in prison.
He also saved Laura from being beheaded from the hands of an Emir. Florante was declared “Defender of
Albania” for his bravery, deepening Adolfo’s envy and hatred.
Florante protected the kingdom once more, this time from Turkish forces under general Miramolin, an
acclaimed conqueror. The battle took place in Aetolia, where he later received a letter from his father. The
letter summoned him back to Albania so that he left his troops in the care of his friend, Menandro. Upon his
arrival, he was ambushed by 30,000 soldiers and, under Adolfo’s orders, was imprisoned for 18 days.
There, he learned of the tragic fate of his father and the king. Under Adolfo’s hands, they were all
beheaded. Florante was then exiled into the forest and tied to the tree.
Aladin’s tale
After months of wandering in the forest, the Muslim Aladin shares to his new Christian friend, Florante,
that he is also in a similar circumstance.
Aladin’s own father, Sultan Ali-Adab, accused him of deserting his post and allowing their conquered
enemies to escape and his troops to be captured. He arranged for his own son to be beheaded but Flerida,
who very much in love with Aladin, begged the Sultan not to kill him, but merely have him exiled. In return,
she agreed to marry the lustful Sultan who was taken by her beauty and charm.
Reunion and peace
Aladin’s speech is interrupted when they hear voices. A woman narrates her escape from a kingdom
and a marriage. She speaks of her search for her beloved, a search which has lasted six years. She
shares that while deep in the forest, she heard cries for help. Finding a lady about to be raped by a man,
she uses her bow and arrow to kill him. The woman introduces herself as Flerida.
The lady saved by Flerida is later revealed to be Laura, who begins to tell her story. While her love
was away at war, Count Adolfo gained the popularity of the people, having lied to them, and turned them
against the king. Adolfo then rose to the throne, forcing Laura to be his queen. An army under Menandro,
Florante’s childhood friend, was able to overthrow Adolfo from power. Adolfo, seeing all was lost, fled into
the woods, taking Laura as hostage.
After hearing all this, Florante and Aladin reunite with their loved ones. Florante and Laura returned to
Albania, and became king and queen. On the other hand, Aladin and Flerida returned to Persia, where he
became the new sultan as his father committed suicide. The two kingdoms lived in harmony and peace
thereafter.
This poem, dedicated by Balagtas to his beloved Celia, introduces the book Florante at Laura:
A Celia / Cay Celia (original Spanish / Tagalog excerpt)
Cuando en el pensamiento torno a leer, Cong pag saulang cong basahin sa isip
de nuestros amores los idos días, ang nan gacaraang arao ng pag-ibig,
¿habría acaso imagen grabada en él, may mahahaguilap cayang natititic
que no fuera Celia, la que puso nido en mi pecho? liban na cay Celiang namugad sa dibdib?
Aquello, Celia, que solía infundirme pavor Yaong Celiang laguing pinanganganiban
que a amor pusieses en olvido, baca macalimot sa pag-iibigan;
abismó a este infortunado ang iquinalubog niyaring capalaran
en la honda breña del dolor. sa lubhang malalim na caralitaan.
¿Olvidaría, por ventura, de leer Macaligtaang co cayang di basahin

los tiempos idos de nuestro cariño, nagdaáng panahón ng suyuan namin?
el amor de que me hiciste objeto caniyang pagsintáng guinugol sa aquin
y mis desvelos y desventuras? at pinuhunan cong pagod at hilahil?

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Pasó el día asaz dulcísimo; Lumipas ang arao na lubhang matamis

tan sólo quedó amor; at ualáng nátira condi ang pag-ibig,
anhelo supremo atenazará mi pecho tapat na pagsuyong lalagui sa dibdib
hasta que en la fosa mi cadáver descanse. hanggang sa libingan bangcay co,i, maidlip.
Hoy que la orfandad entristece mi alma, Ngayong namamanglao sa pangongolila

lo que hago para divertir la pena ang guinagaua cong pag-alio sa dusa
es recordar tiempos idos, nagdaang panaho,i, inaala-ala,
con tu imagen, y la entrevista felicidad. sa iyong laraua,i, ninitang guinhaua.
Imagen trazada por pincel amante, Sa larauang guhit ng sa sintang pincel

grabada en el corazón y en el entendimiento, cusang ilinimbag sa puso,t, panimdim,
prenda única confiada a mi custodia nag-íisang sanláng naiuan sa aquin
y que no será robada ni en la sepultura. at di mananacao magpahangang libing.
Mi alma, de suyo, vaga Ang caloloua co,i, cusang dumadalao

por las revueltas y barrios hollados por sus sa lansanga,t, náyong iyóng niyapacan
plantas, sa ilog Beata,t, Hilom na mababao
y a los ríos, no profundos, de Beata e Hilom, yaring aquing puso,i, laguing lumiligao.
mi corazón enamoradizo suele emigrar.
Mi fantasía suele apoyarse Di mámacailang mupo ang panimdin

en el pie de la manga, donde pasábamos, sa puno ng mangang náraanan natin,
y con los colgantes frutos que deseabas coger sa nagbiting bungang ibig mong pitasín
dar alivio a mi corazón huérfano. ang ulilang sinta,i, aquing ináaliu.
Mi ser todo se iba Ang catauhang co,i, cusang nagtatalic

en suspiros cuando tú enfermaste, sa buntong-hininga nang icao,i, may saquit,
las desesperaciones se me volvían cielo, himutoc co niyao,i, inaaring Langit
Paraíso también la llovediza habitacioncilla. Paraiso namán ang may tulong silíd.
Adoraba tu imagen Liniligauan co ang iyong larauan

en el Macati río donde se reflejaba; sa Macating ilog, na quinalaguian
rastreaba también en el bullicioso embarcadero, binabacás co rin sa masayáng doongan,
sobre la piedra del piso, las impresiones de tus yapac ng paá mo sa batóng tuntungan.
plantas.
Vuelven, y como si tuviese delante, Nagbabalíc mandi,t, parang hinahanap

aquí, los venturosos tiempos, dito ang panahóng masayáng lumipas
cual madrugador bañista que se aprovecha del na cong maliligo,i, sa tubig áagap,
agua dulce nang hindi abutin ng tabsing sa dagat.
antes de enturbiarla la salobre del mar.
Creo aún oir tu decir favorito: Parang naririn gigang laguî mong uica
por tres días no se ha dado en el blanco, tatlong arao na di nagtatanao tama
a que contestaba jubiloso; at sinasagot cong sabing may touâ
¡y para una persona hay tanto en mantenimiento! sa isa catauo,i, marami ang handa.
Cierto que nada hay que no recuerde Ano panga,t, ualang dî nasisiyasat,
mi pensamiento de la huida alegría ang pagiisip co sa touang cumupas
que sólo de imaginarla corren mis lágrimas sa cagugunitâ, luha,i, lalagaslás
al tiempo que gimo “¡Oh, qué infortunio!” sabay ang taghoy cong “¡ó, nasauing palad!”
¿Dónde estás, Celia, alegría del vivir? Nasaan si Celiang ligaya ng dibdib?
Y nuestro amor ¿por qué no echó raíces? ang suyuan nami,i, baquít dí lumauig?
¿Dónde está el tiempo en que una mirada tuya nahan ang panahóng isá niyang titig
era mi vida, alma y cielo? ang siyang búhay co, caloloua,t, Langit?

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¿Por qué, cuando nos separamos, Baquit bagá niyaóng cami maghiualay
no se cortó el hilo de mi maldita existencia? ay dî pa naquitil yaring abáng búhay?
Tu memoria es mi muerte, con gunitain ca,i, aquing camatayan,
porque en mi corazón, Celia, eternamente vives. sa puso co Celia,i, di ca mapaparam.
Esta aflicción sin tasa, Itong dî matiis na pagdaralitâ

por causa tuya, o por la dicha que huyó, nang dahil sa iyo, ó nalayóng touâ,
es la que me invita a cantar, ang siyang umacay na aco,i, tumulâ
narrar la vida de un infortunado. auitin ang búhay nang isang na abâ.
Celia, harto comprendo cuán tímida Celia,i, talastás co,t, malabis na umid,
e ignorante mi musa, y cuán melancólico es su mangmáng ang Musa co,t, malumbay ang tinig
canto, di quinabahagyâ cong hindí malait
sobre baladí, asperísimo; palaring dinguin mo ng tainga,t, isíp.
mas, séanle propicios tus oídos y entendimiento.
Es el primer fruto de mis cortos alcances, Ito,i, unang bucal nang bait cong cutad
que ofrendo a tus nobles huellas; na inihahandóg sa mahal mong yapac
recíbelo, aunque, de valer, ajeno, tangapin mo nauâ cahit ualang lasáp
porque viene de un corazón sincero y amante. nagbúhat sa puso nang lingcód na tapát.
Aun cuando vaya e insultos hagan carne en ella, Cong casadlacán man ng pula,t, pag-ayop
mis desvelos serán bien pagados, tubo co,i, daquila sa puhunang pagod,
si su lectura te arranca un sollozo cong binabasa mo,i, isá mang himutóc
que recuerde al ofrendador. ay alalahanin yaríng naghahandóg.
Alegres ninfas de la laguna Bay, Masasayáng Ninfas sa laua nang Bay,

sirenas de canción inefable, Sirenas, ang tinig ay cauili-uili
a vosotras hoy os invoca, cayó ngayo,i, siyang pinipintacasi
con harto dolor, mi pobre musa. ng lubháng mapanglao na Musa cong imbi.
Surgid a la ribera y márgenes circundantes, Ahon sa dalata,t, pangpang na nagliguid

y acompañad con vuestra lira mi pobre canción, tunuhan nang lira yaring abáng auit
que, aunque la parlante vida se corte, na nagsasalitáng búhay ma,i, mapatid,
es su deseo que el fiel amor cunda. tapát na pagsinta,i, hangad na lumauig.
Tú, flor de mis ensueños, Icao na bulaclac niyaring dili-dili,

Celia, que llevas por divisa M.A.R., Celiang saguisag mo,i, ang M.A.R.
a la Virgen Madre ora sa Virgeng mag-Iná,i, ipamintacasi
por tu devoto servidor que es F.B. ang tapát mong lingcód na si F.B.
Ibong Adarna is a korido (with 8 syllables per line, 4 lines per stanza) containing 1,722 stanzas
and has five parts:
Ibong Adarna (summary)
Part 1: stanzas 1—256 One day, an old doctor arrives in Berbania and
says that the illness of Don Fernando, which is
The kingdom of Berbania is ruled by a king,
brought about by a nightmare, may be cured only
Don Fernando. His wife is Doña Valeriana and
by the song of the Adarna bird. This bird can be
they have three sons (from eldest to youngest):
found on Mt. Tabor, where it perches on the
Don Pedro, Don Diego, and Don Juan.
Piedras Platas* tree at night. During day time, the
Don Fernando’s favorite is his youngest son, bird goes off somewhere but it comes back at night
Don Juan. He falls ill after having a bad dream to roost, and it sings before it sleeps.
about his favorite son being attacked by two
(*Piedras Platas is Spanish for “silver stones”.)
people before being thrown down a well. None of
the healers in the kingdom could cure him. His The old doctor warns that the Adarna bird is
condition worsens. actually an enchantress, and it must be brought
back to Berbania immediately to help heal the
ailing Don Fernando.
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Don Pedro journeys to Mt. Tabor and reaches Adarna bird’s tree. His two elder brothers are thus
it after three months. He is mesmerized by the saved, and they are fed by the old hermit.
Piedras Platas tree with its leaves shimmering like
After the three brothers rested and recovered
diamonds. Unfortunately, the Adarna bird comes
from the ordeal, the old hermit sends them home
late in the evening. Since Don Pedro is tired from
and advises them not to betray one another.
the journey, he is asleep by the time the bird
perches on the tree. However, the two older brothers attack Don
Juan on their way home.
The Adarna bird sheds its feathers and sings
seven times, poops, and then falls asleep on the Part 2: stanzas 257—492
tree. The poop lands on the head of the snoring
Don Pedro, and instantly turns him to stone. The brothers Don Pedro and Don Diego grabs
the Adarna bird from Don Juan. They then bring it
Twelve months pass with no word from Don back to Berbania hoping to get credit for the feat.
Pedro, so Don Diego goes to Mt. Tabor. He suffers Unfortunately for them, the Adarna bird refuses to
the same fate as Don Pedro. sing for the king.
Three years pass, and Don Juan offers to look With a mute Adarna bird and no favorite
for his missing brothers as well as the Adarna bird. youngest son in sight, the king’s condition
Don Fernando tries to stop his favorite son from worsens.
leaving, but is convinced by Don Juan.
Meanwhile, the badly beaten up Don Juan can
Don Juan brings five pieces of bread and hardly crawl. He prays to the Blessed Virgin Mary
decides to eat just one piece a month. After four for help. Fortunately, an old man comes to his aid.
months, he reaches the top of Mt. Tabor where he Don Juan eventually recovers and goes back
meets an old hermit. The hermit begs for alms, home to Berbania.
and the compassionate Don Juan gives his last
Upon his arrival, the Adarna bird sheds its
piece of bread.
feathers and begins to sing. It sings seven times.
The old hermit asks Don Juan what he is
The king recovers immediately from his illness.
doing on Mt. Tabor, so Don Juan tells him. The old
hermit admonishes Don Juan to listen carefully Since it is obvious that the two older brothers
harmed Don Juan, King Fernando (after consulting
and follow his advice, lest he turn into stone just
like his two older brothers. with his council of advisers) orders Don Pedro and
Don Diego into exile.
Here’s the hermit’s advice:
Don Juan, being the compassionate fellow that
• Avoid the beautiful tree and just keep he is, asks his father not to punish his two elder
walking until you see a hut. brothers. The king accedes to Don Juan’s request.
• Enter the hut and talk to the old hermit there. King Fernando orders his three sons to guard
He will show you where the bird is. the Adarna bird, but warns that anyone who allows
the bird to escape will be executed.
And here’s what the old hermit gave Don
Juan: During Don Juan’s watch, he falls asleep at
dawn and the treacherous Don Pedro frees the
• Seven pieces of dayap (some kind of lemon bird.
fruit)
When Don Juan wakes up, he is surprised to
• Straight razor blade (labaha) see that the bird has escaped. Realizing that he
will be put to death, he heads for the hills.
• A golden rope
King Fernando wakes up and discovers the
Each time the Adarna bird sings, Don Juan bird is gone. He asks the two brothers about it, and
becomes sleepy. To stay awake, he uses the razor they say it was Don Juan who kept guard on the
to make a cut on his palm, and then squeezes Adarna bird the previous night.
some dayap juice on the wound. The pain keeps
him awake so he easily avoided the bird’s poop The king orders the two to look for Don Juan.
when it finished its seven songs. Don Pedro and Don Diego finds Don Juan in
The Adarna bird then sleeps with its eyes the mountain of Armenia. They decide not to return
open and its wings spread apart. Don Juan quickly to Berbania because they are certain Don Juan
climbs the tree and uses the golden cord to bind would tell the king what really happened. The two
the bird’s legs so it could not escape. agree to just stay on the mountain.
Don Juan brings the bird to the old hermit who One day, the three brothers find a deep well.
promptly puts it in a cage. He also instructs Don Don Juan wants to explore what lay at the bottom
Juan to pour water on the stone figures under the
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of the well, but Don Pedro (being the eldest) says Juan finds the diamond ring of Princess Leonora,
that he should go down first. climbs out of the well, and walks back to Berbania.
They get a rope and lower Don Pedro to the It’s a long way back to Berbania and the tired
well. After going down 30 feet, however, Don Don Juan rests under a tree. The Adarna bird
Pedro grows frightened by the dark and tugs on happens to perch on the tree and then sings. He
the rope signalling his wish to be pulled out of the wakes up and listens to the lyrics of the Adarna
well. bird’s song.
Part 3: stanzas 493—858 Don Juan discovers from the lyrics that
Princess Leonora is always thinking of him.
Don Diego, being the second eldest, attempts
However, as the bird’s song continues, it reveals
the same but also fails.
that there is a another woman prettier than
Finally, Don Juan gives it a try and reaches Princess Leonora.
the bottom of the well, (about 100 feet below).
She is Princess Maria Blanca, daughter of
He finds a golden door and quickly enters a King Salermo of the Crystal Kingdom (Delos
place filled with crystal-paved roads, sweet- Cristal). The song also tells Don Juan that he can
smelling flowers, and palaces made of gold and proudly present her to his father, King Fernando.
silver. He also meets the beautiful Princess Juana.
Part 4: stanzas 859—1298
Since she is held prisoner by a giant, Don
Don Juan has been journeying on foot for
Juan has to kill the giant. However, before they
three years now, but is still unable to find the
could leave, Princess Juana tells Don Juan about
kingdom of Delos Cristal.
her sister, Princess Leonora, who is being held
prisoner by a seven-headed serpent. On the way, he meets an old man and Don
Juan asks him about the kingdom, but the man is
Don Juan battles the serpent but each time he
equally clueless. The old man, however, advises
chops off a head, it simply reattaches itself to its
Don Juan to go to the seventh mountain where he
body. Fortunately, Princess Leonora throws him
will find a 500-year old hermit. The old man gives
some bottled liquid which he has to pour on each
Don Juan a piece of cloth.
cut part to prevent the heads from reattaching
themselves to the serpent’s body. Don Juan goes to the seventh mountain and
visits the old hermit, showing him the piece of
Don Juan thus saves Princess Leonora and,
cloth. The hermit is amazed by the cloth and
together with Princess Juana and her wolf, the four
exclaims: “Jesus Christ, my Lord, it is only now
are pulled out of the well by Don Juan’s two older
that I’ve seen Your clothes!”
brothers.
Don Juan asks the old hermit about Delos
Don Pedro immediately falls in love with
Cristal, but the hermit—just as the old man—does
Princess Leonora (who’s in turn in love with Don
not know where that kingdom is. The old hermit
Juan).
even asked the animals in the forest, but neither
Princess Leonora remembers that she left they know about Delos Cristal’s whereabouts.
behind a diamond ring, and Don Juan offers to go
As expected, the 500-year old hermit asks
down the well again in order to retrieve it. She tries
Don Juan to travel to the seventh mountain (from
to stop him but he insists. Don Pedro lets go of the
where they are now), so that he can consult the
rope after lowering his younger brother at 10 feet,
800-year old hermit who lives there.
as Don Juan badly falls down the 100-foot well.
When Don Juan got to the said mountain, the
Princess Leonora throws her wolf down the
even older hermit consults with the birds and one
well and instructs it to look after Don Juan.
eagle. Fortunately for Don Juan and his weary
Don Pedro, Don Diego, Princess Juana, and feet, the eagle knows where the kindgom of Delos
Princess Leonora return to Berbania. Don Diego Cristal is. At last, Don Juan will meet the beautiful
and Princess Juana get married, while Princess Princess Maria Blanca whom the Adarna bird sang
Leonora asks the amorous Don Pedro to first wait so much about.
for seven years because she has a religious pact
Don Juan rides on the back of the eagle and
to fulfill.
they fly towards the East for one month before
There is no such pact; Princess Leonora is just they reach the kingdom of Delos Cristal.
stalling Don Pedro in the hopes that Don Juan
The eagle gives Don Juan some advice before
would return soon.
flying away: “At 4:00 in the morning, three
In the meantime, the wolf finds the injured Don princesses wearing dove’s clothes will arrive, and
Juan and heals him with water taken from the will bathe. Hide and do not show yourself.”
Jordan river. After recovering from his fall, Don
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As expected, the three princesses arrive on negritos. The king then frees the 12 into the sea
time. Don Juan has no trouble guessing who and instructs Don Juan to catch all the 12 and
Princess Maria Blanca is, because she is the return them into the wine bottle.
prettiest. Don Juan hides the princess’ clothes
As in the previous evening, Princess Maria
which are hanging on a pear tree.
Blanca meets with Don Juan, gets instructions,
After bathing for a few minutes, Princess Maria and performs the task for him.
Blanca gets angry and hysterical because she
The following day, King Salermo gives Don
cannot find her clothes.
Juan the third task: “Put that mountain in the
After an hour, Don Juan appears like a meek middle of the sea. Build a castle there. I want to
lamb before the princess, gets down on his knees, see it by tomorrow morning. Then build a road
and tells her that he loves her. He also explains from my palace to that castle.”
how his love for her made him steal her clothes,
As usual, the task is performed. King Salermo
and that he is ready to accept whatever
inspects the castle while wondering where Don
punishment he deserves because of the deed.
Juan is getting his powers. During his inspection,
Princess Maria Blanca, overcome with
the king’s ring falls into the sea. This gives the king
compassion, is no longer angry. She asks Don
an idea on how to ask for an even more difficult
Juan to get up on his feet and gently speaks with
task.
him.
King Salermo asks Don Juan to remove the
She asks Don Juan to look at the stones
castle from the sea. With the help of Princess
surrounding the palace. She says that the stones
Maria Blanca, Don Juan obeys and performs the
used to be princes, horsemen, and counts who
task effortlessly.
tried to court her, but were turned to stone by her
father after they failed his tests. The king then asks Don Juan to find his
missing ring beneath the sea. King Salermo also
Princess Maria Blanca continues: “My father
required that the ring be found under his pillow
will wake up later at 5:00 this morning and he will
when he wakes up the following morning.
see you. If he asks why you are here, tell him
you’ve come to ask for the hand of one of the As expected, Don Juan relays the message to
princesses in marriage. When he invites you into the princess, and for the first time she says that
the palace, decline the invitation for you will surely the task is quite difficult.
die. If you wish to continue, accept whatever tasks
he asks you to perform. I’ll take care of The two ride a raft to the middle of the sea.
everything.” The princess asks Don Juan to chop her up and
drop the pieces of her body into the sea. She
The three princesses leave and King Salermo cautions him not to lose any of the pieces, and that
awakes. As expected, he sees Don Juan and he should be alert and stay awake to be able to
invites him to the palace. Don Juan declines, get the ring once her hand emerges from the
states his marital intentions, and says that he is water.
ready to serve the king.
He does as instructed and the pieces of
King Salermo asks a servant to bring some Princess Maria Blanca’s body turn into many fish.
wheat for the first task.
Unfortunately, Don Juan falls asleep and fails
The king orders Don Juan: “Flatten that to get the ring from the surfacing hand of the
mountain, scatter the wheat, harvest it tonight, and princess during the first time. They then go through
turn it into bread. I want that bread served on my the whole thing again, but Don Juan rushes and
breakfast table tomorrow morning.” ends up losing a finger of Princes Maria Blanca.
Fortunately, on their third try, he no longer falls
Don Juan takes the wheat and waits in the
asleep so he is able to get the ring when the
concierge’s house. After everyone had gone to
princess’ hand resurfaced.
sleep, Princess Maria Blanca goes to him and he
explains to her what the task is all about. The princess shows Don Juan her fingers and
tells him to remember that she is missing one of
King Salermo knows the dark arts or black
her fingers. She asks him to remember that, so he
magic, but the princess is well-versed in white
will be able to recognize her when the time comes.
magic. She is more powerful than her father
though, so Don Juan is able to accomplish the task The following day, King Salermo finds the ring
easily. under his pillow when he wakes up. He calls Don
Juan for the final task. The king asks him to attach
The following morning, the king is amazed that
his horse in the royal stable to the royal carriage.
Don Juan was able to perform the task. He then
gives instructions for the second task. The king Princess Maria Blanca tells Don Juan to be
shows Don Juan a wine bottle that contains 12 extra careful because he might die. She explains
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that the horse is actually the king, the coach are his father, King Fernando, to have a group
her two sisters, and she will be the brakes. dispatched and fetch Princess Maria Blanca.
She tells Don Juan not to be afraid of how the Before he leaves, Princess Maria Blanca
horse will look. When the horse nears, Juan warns him that if any woman approaches him, he
should rain blows on the horse’s body. Once the will forget her. Don Juan promises her that he will
horse weakens, he can then bring the horse back not allow any woman to come near him.
to the stable.
Unfortunately, as soon as Don Juan enters
Juan overcomes the king. King Salermo Berbania, Princess Leonora sees him after so
accepts defeat and accepts the fact that Don Juan many years and rushes toward him. The curse is
is more powerful. fulfilled and Don Juan forgets about Princess
Maria Blanca and makes plans to marry Princess
Part 5: stanzas 1299—1722
Leonora.
Since King Salermo has no other tasks to
Princess Maria Blanca attends the celebration
assign to Don Juan, he summons him so that he
and requests that a program be held before the
may choose who among the three princesses he
wedding ceremony begins. The program is a
will marry.
dramatic play between negritos. The female
Since the faces of the princesses are covered, negrito hits the male negrito with a stick and asks
Don Juan may choose only by touching their him if he remembers how Princess Maria Blanca
fingers. He remembers that Princess Maria Blanca helped him in the kingdom of King Salermo.
is missing a finger, so he easily chooses her.
Each blow does not hurt the male negrito,
King Salermo notices the unusual closeness instead, it is Don Juan who feels the pain each
between Don Juan and Princess Maria Blanca, time the negrita hits the negrito. Don Juan’s
and plans to have them banished to England. The memory sudddenly returns, and he remembers all
couple elope and are able to escape from the king. that he and Princess Maria Blanca went through.
King Salermo breathes a curse on her The wedding is called off as Don Juan marries
escaped daughter: “You will be forgotten by Don Princess Maria Blanca. To make things even, Don
Juan. He will leave you and marry someone else.” Pedro takes his younger brother’s place and
In the bewilderment of his grief, he sickens and marries Princess Leonora.
dies, and is unable to witness the fulfillment of his
Don Juan and Princess Maria Blanca return to
curse.
the kingdom of Delos Cristal, where they rule with
Don Juan and Princess Maria Blanca reach compassion and justice over a people who love
the outskirts of the kingdom of Berbania. Don Juan them.
temporarily leaves the princess so that he can tell
Filipino intellectuals (ilustrados) educated in Europe began writing about their colonization.
Reformers like Jose Rizal (Dimasalang, Laong Laan), Marcelo H. del Pilar (Plaridel), Mariano
Ponce (Tikbalang, Kalipulo) wrote for La Solidaridad; while the revolutionaries Andres
Bonifacio (Maypagasa) and Emilio Jacinto (Dimasilaw) wrote for Kalayaan.
Ang Dapat Mabatid ng mga Tagalog (essay)
by Andres Bonifacio
Itong Katagalugan, na pinamamahalaan nang unang panahon ng ating tunay na mga kababayan
niyaong hindi pa tumutuntong sa mga lupaing ito ang mga Kastila, ay nabubuhay sa lubos na kasaganaan,
at kaginhawaaan. Kasundo niya ang mga kapit-bayan at lalung-lalo na ang mga taga-Japon, sila’y
kabilihan at kapalitan ng mga kalakal, malabis ang pagyabong ng lahat ng pinagkakakitaan, kaya’t dahil
dito’y mayaman ang kaasalan ng lahat, bata’t matanda at sampu ng mga babae ay marunong bumasa at
sumulat ng talagang pagsulat nating mga Tagalog. Dumating ang mga Kastila at dumulog na
makipagkaibigan. Sa mabuti nilang hikayat na diumano, tayo’y aakayin sa lalong kagalingan at lalong
imumulat ang ating kaisipan, ang nasabing nagsisipamahala ay nangyaring nalamuyot sa tamis ng
kanilang dila sa paghibo. Gayon man sila’y ipinailalim sa talagang kaugaliang pinagkayarian sa
pamamagitan ng isang panunumpa na kumuha ng kaunting dugo sa kani-kanilang mga ugat, at yao’y
inihalo’t ininom nila kapwa tanda ng tunay at lubos na pagtatapat na di magtataksil sa pinagkayarian. Ito’y
siyang tinatawag na “Pacto de Sangre” ng haring Sikatuna (Rajah ng Bohol) at ni Legaspi (Conquistador
Miguel Lopez de Legazpi) na pinakakatawanan ng hari sa España.

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Buhat nang ito’y mangyari ay bumibilang na ngayon sa tatlong daang taon mahigit na ang lahi ni
Legaspi ay ating binubuhay sa lubos na kasaganaan, ating pinagtatamasa at binubusog, kahit abutin natin
ang kasalatan at kadayukdukan; iginugugol natin ang yaman, dugo at sampu ng tunay na mga kababayan
na ayaw pumayag na sa kanila’y pasakop, at gayon din naman nakipagbaka tayo sa mga Insik at taga-
Holandang nagbalang umagaw sa kanila nitong Katagalugan.
Ngayon sa lahat ng ito’y ano ang sa mga ginawa nating paggugugol ang nakikitang kaginhawahang
ibinigay sa ating Bayan? Ano ang nakikita nating pagtupad sa kanilang kapangakuan na siyang naging
dahilan ng ating paggugugol? Wala kundi pawang kataksilan ang ganti sa ating mga pagpapala at mga
pagtupad sa kanilang ipinangakong tayo’y lalong gigisingin sa kagalingan ay bagkus tayong binulag,
inihawa tayo sa kanilang hamak na asal, pinilit na sinira ang mahal at magandang ugali ng ating Bayan;
iminulat tayo sa isang maling pagsampalataya at isinadlak sa lubak ng kasamaan ang kapurihan ng ating
Bayan; at kung tayo’y mangahas humingi ng kahit gabahid na lingap, ang nagiging kasagutan ay ang
tayo’y itapon at ilayo sa piling ng ating minamahal na anak, asawa at matandang magulang. Ang bawa’t
isang himutok na pumulas sa ating dibdib ay itinuturing na isang malaking pagkakasala at kara-karakang
nilalapatan ng sa hayop na kabangisan.
Ngayon wala nang maituturing na kapanatagan sa ating pamamayan; ngayon lagi nang ginagambala
ang ating katahimikan ng umaalingawngaw na daing at pananambitan, buntong-hininga at hinagpis ng
makapal na ulila, balo’t mga magulang ng mga kababayang ipinanganyaya ng mga manlulupig na Kastila;
ngayon tayo’y nalulunod na sa nagbabahang luha ng Ina sa nakitil na buhay ng anak, sa pananangis ng
sanggol na pinangulila ng kalupitan na ang bawa’t patak ay katulad ng isang kumukulong tinga, na
sumasalang sa mahapding sugat ng ating pusong nagdaramdam; ngayon lalo’t lalo tayong nabibiliran ng
tanikalang nakalalait sa bawa’t lalaking may iniingatang kapurihan. Ano ang nararapat nating gawin? Ang
araw ng katuwiran na sumisikat sa Silanganan, ay malinaw na itinuturo sa ating mga matang malaong
nabulagan, ang landas na dapat nating tunguhin, ang liwanag niya’y tanaw sa ting mga mata, ang kukong
nag-akma ng kamatayang alay sa atin ng mga ganid na asal. Itinuturo ng katuwiran na wala tayong iba
pang maaantay kundi lalo’t lalong kaalipustaan at lalo’t lalong kaalipinan. Itinuturo ng katuwiran na huwag
nating sayangin ang panahon sa pag-asa sa ipinangakong kaginhawahan na hindi darating at hindi
mangyayari. Itinuturo ng katuwiran ang tayo’y umasa sa ating sarili at huwag antayin sa iba ang ating
kabuhayan. Itinuturo ng katuwiran ang tayo’y magkaisang-loob, magkaisang-isip at akala, at nang tayo’y
magkaisa na maihanap ng lunas ang naghaharing kasamaan sa ating Bayan.
Panahon na ngayong dapat na lumitaw ang liwanag ng katotohanan; panahon nang dapat nating
ipakilala na tayo’y may sariling pagdaramdam, may puri, may hiya at pagdadamayan. Ngayon panahon
nang dapat simulan ang pagsisiwalat ng mga mahal at dakilang ani na magwawasak sa masinsing tabing
na bumubulag sa ating kaisipan; panahon na ngayong dapat makilala ng mga Tagalog ang pinagbuhatan
ng kanilang mga kahirapan. Araw na itong dapat kilalanin na sa bawa’t isang hakbang natin ay
tumutuntong tayo at nabibingit sa malalim na hukay ng kamatayan na sa ati’y inuumang ng mga kaaway.
Kaya, O mga kababayan, ating idila ang bulag na kaisipan at kusang igugol sa kagalingan ang ating
lakas sa tunay at lubos na pag-asa na magtagumpay sa nilalayong kaginhawahan ng bayan tinubuan.
(From Kalayaan, issue no. 18, 1896)
Pag-Ibig sa Tinubuang Lupa (poem)

by Andres Bonifacio
Aling pag-ibig pa ang hihigit kaya Bakit? Alin ito na sakdal ng laki,
sa pagkadalisay at pagkadakila Na hinahandugan ng busong pagkasi,
Gaya ng pag-ibig sa tinubuang lupa? Na sa lalong mahal nakapangyayari,
Aling pag-ibig pa? Wala na nga, wala. At ginugulan ng buhay na iwi?
Pagpupuring lubos ang palaging hangad Ay! Ito'y ang Inang Bayang tinubuan:
Sa bayan ng taong may dangal na ingat, Siya'y ina't tangi sa kinamulatan
Umawit, tumula, kumanta't sumulat, Ng kawili-wiling liwanag ng araw
Kalakhan din niya'y isinisiwalat. Na nagbigay-init sa buong katawan.
Walang mahalagang hindi inihandog Kalakip din nito'y pag-ibig sa Bayan,

Ng may pusong mahal sa Bayang nagkupkop, Ang lahat ng lalong sa gunita'y mahal,
dugo, yaman, dunong, katiisa't pagod, Mula sa masaya'y gasong kasanggulan
Buhay ma'y abuting magkalagut-lagot. Hanggang sa katawa'y mapasa-libingan.

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Sa aba ng abang mawalay sa bayan! Hayo na nga, hayo, kayong nangabuhay

Gunita ma'y laging sakbibi ng lumbay, Sa pag-asang lubos ng kaginhawahan
Walang alaala't inaasam-asam At walang tinamo kundi kapaitan,
Kundi ang makita'y lupang tinubuan. Hayo na't ibangon ang naabang bayan!
Pati ng magdusa'y sampung kamatayan Kayong nalagasan ng bunga't bulaklak

Wari ay masarap kung dahil sa bayan Ng kaho'y ng buhay na nilanta't sukat,
At lalong mahirap. Oh, himalang bagay! Ng bala-balaki't makapal na hirap,
Lalong pag-irog pa ang sa kanya'y alay. muling manariwa't sa baya'y lumiyag.
Kung ang bayang ito'y masasa-panganib Ipahandug-handog ang busong pag-ibig

At siya ay dapat na ipagtangkilik, At hanggang may dugo'y ubusing itigis;
Ang anak, asawa, magulang, kapatid; kung sa pagtatanggol, buhay ay mapatid,
Isang tawag niya'y tatalidang pilit. Ito'y kapalaran at tunay na langit!
Leading to the formation of the Propaganda Movement and the Katipunan, culminating in the
Philippine Revolution of 1896
Notable prose works include Rizal’s political novels, Noli Me Tangere and El Filibusterismo, and
Pedro Paterno’s Ninay—considered as the first Filipino novel.
Ninay (summary)
Written as a response to the accusation that Filipinos possessed no distinct culture, Ninay was written
by Pedro Paterno in the tradition of costumbrismo, a movement in Spanish literature in the 19th century
that celebrated specific features—like flora, fauna, rituals, and rites—of Spain's various regions. The
novel's series of overlapping narratives were thus juxtaposed against the country's bucolic scenes and
social and religious rites. This is a major criticism against Paterno's novel—its use of a non-realistic
perspective. But Leon Ma. Guerrero, an influential translator of Rizal's novels, has pointed out the
numerous similarities between Ninay and Rizal's novels in terms of characters and plot structure.
The first Philippine novel Ninay—written in Tagalog and published in Manila in 1908—gathers together
a large number of themes and motifs which shaped the works of a large number of literary texts. Using the
nine-day novena for the dead (pasiam) as the frame, the novel unfolds a series of narratives that constitute
variations of unrequited love. The first doomed love affair is between Ninay, for whom the prayers for the
dead are being said, and Carlos Mabagsic falsely accused by the villainous Portuguese businessman,
Federico Silveyro, of leading an insurrection. After a colorful sojourn abroad, Carlos returns only to find out
that Ninay has entered a convent. He dies of cholera and Ninay also succumbs to the disease and dies.
Unrequited love because of the machinations of another evil character, Don Juan Silveyro, is also the fate
of ill-starred Loleng and Berto, who becomes an outlaw to avenge the death of his sweetheart. It is Berto
who finally puts an end to the wicked ways of Federico.
Noli Me Tangere (summary)

Noli Me Tangere (commonly referred to by its shortened name “Noli”) is a novel written in Spanish by
Philippine national hero Jose Rizal and was first published in Germany in 1887. Its English translation was
originally titled “The Social Cancer”, although more recent translations have been published using the
original Latin name—the literal translation of which is “Touch Me Not”. Rizal is said to have derived this
phrase from the Bible, specifically the Gospel of St. John, where it is spoken by Jesus to Mary Magdalene
after He has risen from the dead, because He has not accomplished His mission (and has not yet
“ascended to the Father”) and hence, cannot be touched. When Rizal read the American novel, Uncle
Tom's Cabin, written by Harriet Beecher Stowe on the oppression of black/negro slaves in the United
States, he thought that a similar novel should be written about the abuses Filipinos were suffering at the
hands of their Spanish colonizers.
In Rizal’s dedication at the beginning of Noli, he wrote: “To My Country: Recorded in the history of
human sufferings is a cancer of so malignant a character that the least touch irritates it and awakens in it
the sharpest pains. Thus, how many times, when in the midst of modern civilizations I have wished to call
thee before me, now to accompany me in memories, now to compare thee with other countries, hath thy
dear image presented itself showing a social cancer like to that other!”

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Characters:
Although Rizal included around 30 characters in the novel, the major characters of the story are:
• Crisostomo Ibarra—also known by his full name Juan Crisostomo Ibarra y Magsalin; a Filipino who
studied in Europe for seven years, the love interest of Maria Clara. Son of the deceased Don Rafael
Ibarra, Crisostomo changed his surname from Eibarramendia to Ibarra, from his ancestor’s surname.
• Elías—Ibarra's mysterious friend, a master boater, a revolutionary, and a fugitive. He was referred to at
one point as “the pilot”. Ibarra's great-grandfather, Don Saturnino, killed his grandfather for burning a
warehouse.
• María Clara—full name: María Clara de los Santos, Ibarra's sweetheart; the illegitimate daughter of
Padre Damaso and Doña Pía Alba.
• Padre/Father Damaso—also known in his full name as Damaso Verdolagas; a Franciscan friar and
María Clara's biological father.
• Don Filipo—a close relative of Ibarra, and a “filibustero”.
• Linares—a distant nephew of Don Tiburcio de Espadana, the would-be fiancee of Maria Clara.
• Kapitan-Heneral/Captain-General (no specific name)—the most powerful official in the Philippines, a
hater of secular priests and corrupt officials, and a friend of Ibarra.
• Captain Pablo—the leader of the rebels, whose family was destroyed because of the Spaniards.
• Tarcilo and Bruno—brothers, whose father was killed by the Spaniards.
• Sisa—the mother of Basilio and Crispín, who went insane after losing her sons.
• Basilio—the elder son of Sisa.
• Crispin—the younger son of Sisa who died from the punishment of Spanish soldiers after being falsely
accused of stealing money.
• Padre/Father Sibyla—Hernando de la Sibyla, a Filipino friar. He is described as short and has fair skin.
• Kapitan/Captain Tiago—full name: Don Santiago de los Santos, the known father of María Clara but
not the real one; he lives in Binondo.
• Padre/Father Salvi—also known as Bernardo Salvi, a secret admirer of María Clara.
• Pilosopo/Philosopher Tasyo—also known as Don Anastasio, portrayed in the novel as a pessimist, a
cynic, and a mad man by his neighbors, but in actuality he is quite wise; Ibarra seeks advice from him.
• The Alferez—chief of the Guardia Civil; mortal enemy of the priests for the power in San Diego.
• Don Tiburcio de Espadaña—Spanish husband of Doña Victorina; he is limp and submissive to his wife;
also pretends to be a doctor.
• Doña Victorina—full name: Victorina de los Reyes de De Espadaña, a woman who passes herself off
as a “peninsulares”* (creoles).
• Doña Consolacion—wife of the “alferez”, another woman who passes herself off as a “peninsulares”*;
best remembered for her abusive treatment of Sisa.
• Pedro—abusive husband of Sisa who loves cockfighting.
• Albino, Kapitana Maria, Lieutenant/Tinyente Guevara, Kapitan Basilio, Mang Pablo, Iday, Sinang,
Victoria, Andeng, Doña Pia, Tia Isabel, Lucas, Señor Nol Juan—other characters
*During the Spanish colonial period, four social class distinctions were observed in the Philippines.
These were the peninsulares—Spaniards who were born in Spain, insulares or creoles—Spaniards born in
the colonies of Spain (like the Philippines), Spanish mestizos of mixed ancestry dwelling within or nearby
an urban town/city, and the rural natives/Filipinos called indios.

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Plot:
Having completed his studies in Europe, the young Crisostomo Ibarra returns to the Philippines after a
seven-year absence. In his honor, the affluent Kapitan Tiago throws a dinner party in his Binondo home,
which is attended by friars and other prominent Spanish figures, such as Doña Victorina, Padre Sibyla, and
Padre Damaso—the former curate of San Diego and godfather to his daughter Maria Clara.
In an unfortunate incident, Padre Damaso belittles and slanders Ibarra for reasons the young man
cannot understand. But Ibarra brushes off the insults and takes no offense, graciously excusing himself
and leaving the party because of an allegedly important task. He is followed by another guest, Tinyente
Guevara (of the Guardia Civil).
Although Tinyente Guevara is unable to explain Padre Damaso’s change of attitude toward Ibarra’s
father, he illuminates Ibarra regarding the events preceding Don Rafael’s death.
According to him, Ibarra’s father—a wealthy hacendero of San Diego—was unjustly accused of being
a heretic: an allegation brought forth by Padre Damaso because of Don Rafael’s non-participation in the
sacraments, such as his refusal to go to confession and to Mass. Later, Don Rafael was also accused by
the friar of being a filibuster when a Spanish tax collector died accidentally when he defended a boy the
collector was assaulting.
Suddenly, all those who thought ill of Don Rafael surfaced with additional complaints and joined forces
with Padre Damaso, making false accusations against the old man. Thus, he was thrown into prison, but
the noble Tinyente Guevara prepared the case for his defense and found a good lawyer to represent him.
And just when it seemed the matter would be settled and Don Rafael would be acquitted, he got sick and
died in jail.
The day after the humbling party, Ibarra goes to see María Clara, his love interest and the beautiful
daughter of Kapitan Tiago. Their long-standing love is clearly manifested in this meeting as María Clara
reveals that she always carries the letter Ibarra had written her before he went to Europe. She rereads it,
beginning with the detail on Don Rafael's nationalistic reasons for sending his son Ibarra to Europe to be
educated.
Ibarra then goes to his hometown, San Diego, where Maria Clara’s family also has a house. He goes
to see his father's grave at the Catholic cemetery and finds that it has been disturbed. Still not content with
what he had done, Padre Damaso supposedly arranged for Don Rafael's corpse to be dug up and
transferred from the Catholic cemetery to the Chinese cemetery, reasoning that a heretic/filibuster was
undeserving of a Catholic burial ground. Unfortunately it was raining, and because of the bothersome
weight of the cadaver, the gravediggers decided not to take the trouble of burying the corpse again;
instead, they threw the corpse of Don Rafael into the river.
Others in San Diego also suffer at the hands of the Spanish clergy. Two young sacristans—the
brothers Basilio and Crispin—are accused of stealing money from the church. When they disappear their
mother, Sisa, goes mad and wanders the town. The town schoolmaster also tells Ibarra he was
discouraged by the curate from using the new teaching methods that he found effective.
Ibarra invites Maria Clara and other young people to go fishing then have a picnic on his property. Out
of courtesy, he also invites the new curate, Padre Salvi, even though Maria Clara complains he has been
gazing at her lustfully. Padre Salvi can only make it to the picnic, so the young people and their
chaperones go fishing without the friar on Ibarra’s pond. They find that a large caiman (crocodile) has
eaten all the fish in one of the corrals. A mysterious boatman named Elias captures it but is attacked by the
creature. Ibarra goes to his aid, saving his life. Ibarra learns that the mysterious boatman is wanted by the
Guardia Civil for assaulting a Spanish priest.
Revenge was not in Ibarra's plans; instead he decides to put up a school as a tribute to his father's
belief that the education of the people would lead to their country's liberation. He discusses this with the
learned town eccentric, Pilosopo Tasio, and the old man supports his noble objectives but warns him that
he must win over the Spanish authorities to have a chance of success.
During the inauguration of the school after the authorities have approved of his plan, Ibarra would have
been killed in a sabotage had Elias—who had warned Ibarra earlier of a plot to assassinate him—not
saved his life where the hired killer met an unfortunate incident and died. The sequence of events proved
to be too traumatic for María Clara who becomes ill with a fever. Ibarra gives her a medicine which cures
her, but she remains weak for some time afterward.
After the inauguration, Ibarra hosts a dinner luncheon during which Padre Damaso, uninvited and
gate-crashing the gathering, again insults him. Ibarra ignores the priest's insolence, but when the friar
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slanders the memory of his dead father, he is no longer able to restrain himself and lunges at the friar,
holding a knife at his throat for his impudence. But Maria Clara stops him from doing any violence to Padre
Damaso.
As a consequence, Ibarra is excommunicated by the Archbishop of the Roman Catholic Church for
assaulting one of their own. Because of this disgrace, Padre Damaso is able to persuade Kapitan Tiago to
forbid his daughter Maria Clara from marrying Ibarra. The friar presents a new suitor, a creole named
Linares who has just arrived from Spain. Linares is introduced by his “peninsulares” relatives, the foolish
Spanish quack doctor Don Tiburcio and his absurd pretentious wife, Doña Victorina.
Elias tries to convince Ibarra at this point to lead a revolt, but Ibarra insists that reform, never revolt, is
the answer to the country’s ills. Elias tries to move him with the story of how his family suffered at the
hands of a Spanish merchant and other wealthy and influential members of society, to no avail.
Ibarra meets with the Kapitan-Heneral and wins his support. The excommunication is thus lifted and
the Archbishop decides to accept Ibarra as a member of the Church once again. But, as fate would have it,
some incident of which Ibarra had known nothing about is blamed on him and is accused by Padre Salvi of
being a subversive.
Hearing of this, Elias goes to warn him and together they go over the Ibarra family papers so they can
discard anything that appears incriminating. While doing this, Elias discovers that Ibarra’s great-
grandfather was the very Spanish merchant who set off the chain of his family’s misfortunes. His feelings in
turmoil, Elias leaves Ibarra. Soon afterward, Ibarra is arrested and imprisoned.
At first there appears to be no actual evidence against him, thanks to Elias who had a change of heart
and returned to burn Ibarra’s family papers. The accusation against him is overruled because nobody
during the litigation could testify that he was indeed involved. Then suddenly, Ibarra's letter to Maria Clara
is produced and his words are manipulated so that the love letter then becomes evidence against him.
Meanwhile, in Kapitan Tiago's residence, a party is being held to announce the upcoming wedding of
María Clara and Linares. Ibarra, with the help of Elias, takes this opportunity and escapes from prison. He
goes to see Maria Clara one last time before leaving the country. He wishes to say goodbye to her
although he believes that she betrayed him by giving the letter he wrote her to the jury. Maria Clara
explains to Ibarra that she only handed over the letter he wrote her in exchange for a couple of scandalous
letters written by her mother, Doña Pia Alba, before her birth. These letters, alluding to an unborn child,
were found by Padre Salvi in the house passed onto him by Padre Damaso. They revealed that her mother
was raped by Padre Damaso and that she is therefore not the daughter of Kapitan Tiago, but of Padre
Damaso!
Afterwards, Ibarra and Elias continue their flight by boat. Elias tells Ibarra to lie down, then covers him
with grass. As luck would have it, some guardia civil spot them as Elias tries to outsmart them by serving
as a decoy and jumping into the water. The soldiers shoot at him, unaware that Ibarra is still in the boat,
waiting for a chance to make his getaway.
Maria Clara hears that Ibarra was killed in the water and is so overcome with grief that she begs Padre
Damaso to confine her in a nunnery or she will take her own life, saying: “The nunnery or death!” Padre
Damaso explains reluctantly that he only wanted Maria Clara to have a life of freedom and happiness,
which she could never achieve in marriage to a Filipino native. But she holds firm, refusing to marry
Linares or anyone else, and he bows to her wishes.
In his last moments as he bleeds to death, Elias meets the runaway sacristan Basilio, who had just
come back to the town to find his mother. Sadly, Sisa died soon after she recognized her son. Elias asks
Basilio to burn his body upon his death. He then dies lamenting not having seen the liberation of his
country.
El Filibusterismo (summary)
El Filibusterismo (commonly referred to as “Fili”, from the Spanish word for “filibuster” or a subversive
who foments or supports a revolution) is also known by its English alternate title “The Reign of Greed”. Fili
is the second novel written by Rizal and the sequel to the Noli. Like his first book, it was written in Spanish
and was first published in Belgium in 1891. Fili is dedicated to the memory of the “Gomburza”—the Filipino
priests Gomez, Burgos, and Zamora—who were accused of being seditious and executed by beheading.
In his dedication, Rizal audaciously expresses his conviction that their treatment at the hands of the
Spanish authorities was unjust and barbaric.

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Characters:
Below are the major characters in the novel:
• Simoun—Crisostomo Ibarra reincarnated as a wealthy jeweler, bent on starting a revolution.
• Basilio—Sisa’s son, now an aspiring doctor.
• Isagani—poet and Basilio’s best friend; portrayed as emotional and reactive; Paulita Gomez’s
boyfriend before being dumped for fellow student Juanito Pelaez.
• Kabesang Tales—full name: Telesforo Juan de Dios, a former cabeza de barangay (barangay head/
captain) who resurfaced as the feared Luzon bandit Matanglawin (Tagalog for “Hawkeye”); his father,
Old Man/Tandang Selo, dies eventually after his own son Tano, who became a guardia civil,
unknowingly shoots his grandfather in an encounter.
• Don Custodio—also known as Custodio de Salazar y Sanchez de Monteredondo; a famous journalist
who was asked by students about his decision for the Academia de Castellano. In reality, he is quite
an ordinary fellow who married a rich woman in order to be a member of Manila’s high society.
• Paulita Gómez—the girlfriend of Isagani and the niece of Doña Victorina. In the end, she and Juanito
Pelaez are wed after dumping Isagani, believing that she will have no future if she marries him.
• Padre/Father Florentino—Isagani's godfather and a secular priest; was engaged to be married, but
chose priesthood instead. The story hints at the ambivalence of his decision as he chooses an
assignment to a remote place, living in solitude near the sea.
• Macaraig—the rich student who offered his own house as the dormitory of the students studying in
Ateneo Municipal de Manila. He led the students with Isagani to set up a Spanish school, but their
movement was defeated.
• Juli—also Juliana, daughter of Kabesang Tales and Basilio’s sweetheart.
• Captain of the ship Tabo—a soft-spoken yet sarcastic fellow.
• Padre/Father Camorra—the friar-gunner.
• Padre/Father Irene—the friar with a “ruddy, well-shaved face”.
• Kapitan-Heneral—from Noli.
• Maria Clara—from Noli.
• Don Tiburcio—from Noli.
• Doña Victorina—from Noli.
• Padre Salvi —from Noli.
• Padre Sibyla—from Noli.
• Tandang Selo, Tano, Quiroga, Juanito Pelaez—other characters
Plot:
After 13 years of being away from the Philippines, Crisostomo Ibarra returns under the guise of
Simoun, a rich jeweler sporting a beard and blue-tinted glasses. His wealth and connections as a confidant
of the Kapitan-Heneral make him influential and sought-after in Manila’s high society.
Abandoning his idealism, Ibarra becomes a cynical saboteur, the titular filibustero, seeking revenge by
overthrowing the corrupt colonial system responsible for his misfortunes. As Simoun, he uses his clout to
encourage Spanish officials to become more corrupt and mismanage the country’s affairs so that the
Filipino masses will revolt against the government.
He cynically sides with the upper classes, encouraging them to commit further abuses against the
people, thus instigating a revolution. Simoun also plans to rescue his beloved Maria Clara from the
convent.
Only Basilio—now a graduating student of medicine at the Ateneo Municipal de Manila—recognizes
Simoun’s true identity. Their paths crossed when the now grown-up Basilio visited the grave of his mother
as Simoun was digging near her grave for his buried treasures. Simoun spares Basilio’s life and tries to
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convince him to join his planned uprising. He owes Simoun a debt of gratitude for helping him bury his
mother in the forest more than a decade ago. Knowing what Basilio’s family suffered at the hands of the
Spanish authorities, Simoun eggs him on by bringing up the tragic misfortunes of his younger brother
Crispin and his mother Sisa. However, Basilio declines the offer as he still hopes that the country’s
condition will improve.
A decade ago, Basilio heeded the advice of the dying boatman Elias and traveled to Manila to study.
He was then adopted by Kapitan Tiago after María Clara entered the convent. And with Kapitan Tiago’s
help, Basilio was able to go to Colegio de San Juan de Letran where, at first, he was frowned upon by his
Spanish peers and teachers—not only because of the color of his skin, but also because of his shabby
appearance, which he experienced the same at the Ateneo.
Meanwhile, Kapitan Tiago’s confessor, Padre Irene, is making his health worse by giving him opium
even as Basilio tries hard to prevent him from smoking it.
Basilio and other students want to establish a Spanish-language academy so that they can learn to
speak and write Spanish despite the opposition from the friars of the Universidad de Santo Tomas. With
the help of a reluctant Padre Irene as their mediator and Don Custodio’s decision, the academy is
established. However, it is decided that they will only serve as caretakers of the school and not as its
teachers. Dejected and defeated, the students hold a mock celebration at a pancitería while a spy for the
Spanish friars witnesses the proceedings.
Simoun, for his part, keeps in close contact with the bandit group of Kabesang Tales, a former
barangay captain who suffered misfortunes at the hands of the kuras. Once a farmer owning a prosperous
sugarcane plantation, he was forced to surrender everything to the greedy and unscrupulous Spanish
friars. His son, Tano, who became a guardia civil, was captured by bandits; his daughter, Juli, had to work
as a maid to get enough ransom money for his freedom; and his father, Tandang Selo, suffered a stroke
and became mute.
Before joining the bandits, Kabesang Tales took Simoun’s revolver while the latter was staying at the
former’s house for the night. In exchange and to serve as payment, Kabesang Tales leaves a locket that
once belonged to Maria Clara.
To further strengthen the revolution, Simoun has Quiroga—a Chinese man hoping to be appointed as
consul to the Philippines—smuggle weapons into the country using the businessman’s bazaar as a front.
Simoun wishes to attack during a stage play with all of his enemies in attendance. As fate would have
it, his first attempt at revolution fails when Simoun learns from Basilio of Maria Clara's death at the
convent. He breaks down and his plan was aborted.
A few days after the mock celebration by the students, the people are agitated when disturbing posters
are found displayed around the city. The authorities accuse the students present at the pancitería of
agitation and disturbing the peace, and have them arrested. Basilio, although not present at the mock
celebration, is also arrested.
Kapitan Tiago dies after learning of the incident and as stated in his will—forged by Padre Irene, all his
possessions will be given to the Church, leaving nothing for Basilio. Basilio is left in prison as the other
students are released. A high official tries to intervene for the release of Basilio but the Kapitan-Heneral,
bearing grudges against the high official, coerces the official to tender his resignation.
With Basilio incarcerated and upon the advice of an old woman, his girlfriend Juli—which is also the
daughter of Kabesang Tales—tries to seek help from the influential Padre Camorra for his release. Instead
of helping Juli, Padre Camorra tries to rape her as he has long-hidden desires for her. Juli, rather than
submit to the will of the lustful Spanish friar, jumps over the balcony to her death.
Bitter and vengeful, Basilio is soon released from prison through Simoun’s clout. Basilio, now a
changed man and after hearing about her beloved Juli’s suicide, finally offers his full support to Simoun's
second attempt at sparking a revolution.
Simoun tells Basilio his plan at the wedding of Paulita Gomez and Juanito Pelaez—Basilio’s
hunchbacked classmate. His plan was to conceal an explosive inside a pomegranate-styled lamp that he
will give to the newlyweds as a gift during the wedding reception. The reception will take place at the
former home of Kapitan Tiago, which is now filled with explosives planted by Simoun. According to
Simoun, the lamp will stay lighted for only 20 minutes before it flickers; if someone attempts to turn the
wick, it will explode and kill everyone inside the house—all his enemies, important members of high society
and the Church hierarchy.

H0045
There are many illustrious guests at the mansion during the wedding day, including the Kapitan-
Heneral. Seeing all the people, most of them innocent guests who are about to be harmed, Basilio has a
change of heart as Simoun leaves the reception early as planned, leaving behind a note that says:
“Mene Thecel Phares.—Juan Crisostomo Ibarra” (“You are weighed in the balance and found
wanting,” the handwriting found on the wall during a feast foretelling the destruction of Babylon)
Initially thinking that it was simply a bad joke by those left behind, Padre Salví recognizes the
handwriting and confirms that it was indeed Ibarra’s. As Basilio starts to run away, following Simoun’s
escape, he sees his best friend Isagani standing disconsolately near the house. Basilio is compelled to tell
Isagani of Simoun’s plot.
Isagani had been working toward reform and with his idealism, intelligence, and eloquence had
become something of a leader among the students. Until recently he had been the beautiful Paulita's
sweetheart. She had been charmed by his poetic nature but Paulita was bored by his patriotic ideals. The
arrest of the students convinced her that it would be more practical to marry Juanito, a rich businessman's
son who did not involve himself in such dangerous political matters.
As people inside the mansion begin to panic, the lamp flickers. Padre Irene tries to turn the wick up
when Isagani, due to his undying love for Paulita, bursts in the room, grabs the lamp, and throws the bomb
into the river, averting Simoun’s plans.
Isagani escapes by diving into the river as guardia civils chase after him. He later regrets his impulsive
action because he had contradicted his own belief that he loved his nation more than Paulita, and that the
explosion and the revolution that could have followed it will have fulfilled his ideals for the Filipino people.
Now unmasked as the perpetrator of the attempted arson and failed revolution, Simoun became a
fugitive. Wounded and exhausted, he seeks shelter at the home of a kind Filipino priest, Padre
Florentino—Isagani’s uncle—and came under the care of Don Tiburcio who was also hiding at the house.
Having abandoned all hope and knowing that it is only a matter of time before he is arrested, Simoun
takes a fatal poison in order not to be captured alive by the Spanish authorities. Before he dies, Padre
Florentino hears his last confession as Simoun reveals his real identity being Crisostomo Ibarra.
Padre Florentino expresses his conviction that Simoun's plans failed because he chose to do them by
unjust means. He opines that God would not have forsaken him had Simoun’s plans been for the greater
good instead of for personal gain. However, he assures Simoun that there is still hope for the liberation of
the country. Upon Simoun's death, the priest takes his remaining jewels and throws them all into the sea,
praying that the wealth that was once used for bribery and corruption would one day be found by one who
would use it for a just purpose—that when the time came that it would be used for the greater good, when
the Filipino people would be finally deserving liberty for themselves, the sea would reveal the treasures.
Fili’s plot is similar to that of Alexandre Dumas’s French classic The Count of Monte Cristo, for both
novels revolve around a man's determination to avenge himself and reclaim his beloved fiancee; with the
protagonist disguising his identity and coming up with an intricate plot of revenge and retribution.
This poem was written by Rizal on the eve of his execution on December 30, 1896:
Mi Último Adiós / My Last Farewell (original Spanish excerpt)
¡Adiós, Patria adorada, región del sol querida, Farewell, beloved Country, treasured region of the
Perla del mar de oriente, nuestro perdido Edén! sun,
A darte voy alegre la triste mustia vida, Pearl of the sea of the Orient, our lost Eden!
Y fuera más brillante, más fresca, más florida, To you eagerly I surrender this sad and gloomy life;
También por ti la diera, la diera por tu bien. And were it brighter, fresher, more florid,
Even then I’d give it to you, for your sake alone.
En campos de batalla, luchando con delirio, In fields of battle, deliriously fighting,

Otros te dan sus vidas sin dudas, sin pesar; Others give you their lives, without doubt, without
El sitio nada importa, ciprés, laurel o lirio, regret;
Cadalso o campo abierto, combate o cruel martirio, The place matters not: where there’s cypress, laurel
Lo mismo es si lo piden la patria y el hogar. or lily,
On a plank or open field, in combat or cruel
martyrdom,
It’s all the same if the home or country asks.

H0045
Yo muero cuando veo que el cielo se colora I die when I see the sky has unfurled its colors
Y al fin anuncia el día tras lóbrego capuz; And at last after a cloak of darkness announces the
si grana necesitas para teñir tu aurora, day;
Vierte la sangre mía, derrámala en buen hora If you need scarlet to tint your dawn,
Y dórela un reflejo de su naciente luz. Shed my blood, pour it as the moment comes,
And may it be gilded by a reflection of the heaven’s
newly-born light.
Mis sueños cuando apenas muchacho adolescente, My dreams, when scarcely an adolescent,
Mis sueños cuando joven ya lleno de vigor, My dreams, when a young man already full of life,
Fueron el verte un día, joya del mar de oriente, Were to see you one day, jewel of the sea of the
Secos los negros ojos, alta la tersa frente, Orient,
Sin ceño, sin arrugas, sin manchas de rubor Dry those eyes of black, that forehead high,
Without frown, without wrinkles, without stains of
shame.
Ensueño de mi vida, mi ardiente vivo anhelo, My lifelong dream, my deep burning desire,
¡Salud te grita el alma que pronto va a partir! This soul that will soon depart cries out: Salud!
¡Salud! Ah, que es hermoso caer por darte vuelo, To your health! Oh how beautiful to fall to give you
Morir por darte vida, morir bajo tu cielo, flight,
Y en tu encantada tierra la eternidad dormir. To die to give you life, to die under your sky,
And in your enchanted land eternally sleep.
Si sobre mi sepulcro vieres brotar un día If upon my grave one day you see appear,
Entre la espesa yerba sencilla, humilde flor, Amidst the dense grass, a simple humble flower,
Acércala a tus labios y besa al alma mía, Place it near your lips and my soul you’ll kiss,
Y sienta yo en mi frente bajo la tumba fría, And on my brow may I feel, under the cold tomb,
De tu ternura el soplo, de tu hálito el calor. The gentle blow of your tenderness, the warmth of
your breath.
Deja a la luna verme con luz tranquila y suave, Let the moon see me in a soft and tranquil light,
Deja que el alba envíe su resplandor fugaz, Let the dawn send its fleeting radiance,
Deja gemir al viento con su murmullo grave, Let the wind moan with its low murmur,
Y si desciende y posa sobre mi cruz un ave, And should a bird descend and rest on my cross,
Deja que el ave entone su cántico de paz. Let it sing its canticle of peace.
Deja que el sol, ardiendo, las lluvias evapore Let the burning sun evaporate the rains,
Y al cielo tornen puras, con mi clamor en pos; And with my clamor behind, towards the sky may
Deja que un ser amigo mi fin temprano llore they turn pure;
Y en las serenas tardes cuando por mí alguien ore, Let a friend mourn my early demise,
¡Ora también, oh Patria, por mi descanso a Dios! And in the serene afternoons, when someone prays
for me,
O Country, pray to God also for my rest!
Ora por todos cuantos murieron sin ventura, Pray for all the unfortunate ones who died,
Por cuantos padecieron tormentos sin igual, For all who suffered torments unequaled,
Por nuestras pobres madres que gimen su For our poor mothers who in their grief and
amargura; bitterness cry,
Por huérfanos y viudas, por presos en tortura For orphans and widows, for prisoners in torture,
Y ora por ti que veas tu redención final. And for yourself pray that your final redemption
you’ll see.
Y cuando en noche oscura se envuelva el And when the cemetery is enveloped in dark night,
cementerio And there, alone, only those who have gone remain
Y solos sólo muertos queden velando allí, in vigil,
No turbes su reposo, no turbes el misterio, Disturb not their rest, nor the mystery,
Tal vez acordes oigas de cítara o salterio, And should you hear chords from a zither or
Soy yo, querida Patria, yo que te canto a ti. psaltery,
It is I, beloved Country, singing to you.

H0045
Y cuando ya mi tumba de todos olvidada And when my grave, then by all forgotten,
No tenga cruz ni piedra que marquen su lugar, has not a cross nor stone to mark its place,
Deja que la are el hombre, la esparza con la azada, Let men plow and with a spade scatter it,
Y mis cenizas, antes que vuelvan a la nada, And before my ashes return to nothing,
El polvo de tu alfombra que vayan a formar. May they be the dust that carpets your fields.
Entonces nada importa me pongas en olvido. Then nothing matters, cast me in oblivion.
Tu atmósfera, tu espacio, tus valles cruzaré. Your atmosphere, your space and valleys I’ll cross.
Vibrante y limpia nota seré para tu oído, I will be a vibrant and clear note to your ears,
Aroma, luz, colores, rumor, canto, gemido, Aroma, light, colors, murmur, moan, and song,
Constante repitiendo la esencia de mi fe. Constantly repeating the essence of my faith.
Mi patria idolatrada, dolor de mis dolores, My idolized country, sorrow of my sorrows,

Querida Filipinas, oye el postrer adiós. Beloved Filipinas, hear my last good-bye.
Ahí te dejo todo, mis padres, mis amores. There I leave you all, my parents, my loves.
Voy donde no hay esclavos, verdugos ni opresores, I’ll go where there are no slaves, hangmen nor
Donde la fe no mata, donde el que reina es Dios. oppressors,
Where faith doesn’t kill, where the one who reigns is
God.
Adiós, padres y hermanos, trozos del alma mía, Goodbye, dear parents, brother and sisters,
Amigos de la infancia en el perdido hogar, fragments of my soul,
Dad gracias que descanso del fatigoso día; Childhood friends in the home now lost,
Adiós, dulce extranjera, mi amiga, mi alegría, Give thanks that I rest from this wearisome day;
Adiós, queridos seres, morir es descansar. Goodbye, sweet foreigner, my friend, my joy;
Farewell, loved ones, to die is to rest.
References:
Del Castillo, T. & Medina, B. (1968). Philippine Literature from Ancient Times to the Present. Quezon City:
Del Castillo and Sons.
Eugenia, D. (1987). Awit and Corrido: Philippine Metrical Romances. Quezon City: University of the
Philippines Press.
Project Gutenberg http://www.gutenberg.org/ retrieved March 2009.
The Premier Digital Library of the Philippines. http://www.filipiniana.net/, retrieved March 2009.

H0045
Literature under the United States

The Spanish language was still pre-dominant among the Filipino ilustrados.
A great portion of Spanish literature by native Filipinos was written during the American
Commonwealth period.
Among the newspapers published in Spanish were El Renacimiento, La Democracia, La
Vanguardia, El Pueblo de Iloilo, El Tiempo, and others.
Three magazines, The Independent, Philippine Free Press, and Philippine Review were published
in Spanish and English.
Well-known Spanish-language story writers/poets during the American period were Claro M.
Recto (Bajo los Cocoteros/Under the Coconut Trees, 1911)—who continued writing in Spanish
until 1946, Fernando Ma. Guerrero (Crisalidas/Chrysalis, 1914), Antonio M. Abad (El Ultimo
Romantico/The Last Romantic, 1927), Manuel Bernabe (Cantos del Tropico/Songs of the
Tropics, 1929), Flavio Zaragoza Cano (Cantos A España/Songs of Spain, 1935), Jesus Balmori
(Mi Casa de Nipa/My Nipa Hut, 1938), and Cecilio Apostol (Pentelicas/from Pentelicus—a
mountain in Greece, 1941) among many others.
In Tagalog drama, the new colonial regime saw the literature of protest in such playwrights as
Tomas Remigio (Malaya/Free, 1898), Juan Abad (Tanikalang Guinto/Golden Chain, 1902),
Juan Matapang Cruz (Hindi Aco Patay/I Am Not Dead, 1903), and Aurelio Tolentino
(Kahapon, Ngayon at Bukas/Yesterday, Today and Tomorrow, 1903) who were arrested on
charges of sedition because of their anti-American plays/sarswelas.
JUAN ABAD, isang maikling talambuhay
Si Juan Abad ay isang manunulat at mandudula mula sa Sampaloc, Maynila. Taong 1875 nang siya’y
isilang at sa edad na 16 ay naisulat na niya ang Senos de Mala Fortuna, isang komedya na may anim na
yugto. Itinanghal ito sa Dulaang Arevalo sa Maynila noong 1895.
Nagsulat siya ng mga aklat na naglalaman ng mga pagtuligsa sa kolonyal na pamahalaan at mga
prayleng Kastila. Sinunog niya ang mga ito bago siya sumanib sa Katipunan.
Nakasama siya sa hukbong Pilipino na nakipaglaban sa mga Amerikano. Sa panahong iyon itinatag
nila ni Emilio S. Reyes ang Republicang Tagalog, isang pahayagang nailathala sa San Fernando,
Pampanga.
Noong 1899 ay naglabas siyang muli ng isang pahayagan, ang Laon-Laan, na naging dahilan upang
siya’y dakipin ng mga Amerikano. Ikinulong siya sa loob ng isang buwan at pinapupunta umaga’t hapon sa
kuwartel-militar kasama ang pagbabanta na huwag na siyang magsusulat muli.
Nang sumunod na taon, sinimulan niya ang pagtatatag ng isa pang pahayagan na para naman sa mga
manggagawa. Binigyan niya ito ng pangalang Dimas-Alang at pinamatnugutan ng isang Dr. Xeres Burgos.
Matapos ng maikling panahong paglalathala sa loob ng tatlong buwan, pinatigil ulit ito ng mga Amerikano.
Sumunod na napagtuunan ng pansin ni Abad ang komedya na sa kanyang paniniwala’y lumalason sa

isipan ng mga Pilipino. Nagalit sa kanya ang mga tradisyunal na nagtatanghal ng komedya at moro-moro
kaya isinumbong siya sa pamahalaan—dahil na rin sa pagtatanghal niya ng mga makabayang dulang
Mabuhay ang Filipinas at Mapanglaw na Pagka-alaala noong 1900.
Bilang parusa at dahil na rin sa hindi niya pagsumpa ng katapatan (oath of allegiance) sa Estados
Unidos ay ipinatapon siya sa Olongapo. Doon niya isinulat ang isa na namang dula, ang Manila-Olongapo,
na tumatalakay sa buhay ng mga bilanggong Pilipino. Nang siya’y lumaya noong 1901, itinanghal ito sa
Dulaang Zorilla.
History of Philippine Literature: American Colonial Period *Property of STI
H0045
Nang sumunod na taon (1902) ay itinanghal sa Dulaang Libertad ang bago niyang dulang Tanikalang
Guinto—isang dulang nanunuya sa mga Amerikano at nagtutulak sa mga Pilipino na maghimagsik laban
sa mga dayuhang mananakop. Dahil dito’y dinakip siyang muli noong 1903, sinintensiyahan ng dalawang
taon sa bilangguan, at pinagmumulta ng $2,000. Pinaburan siya ng Korte Suprema at napalaya muli.
Habang nasa piitan ay sinulat niya ang isa na namang dula, ang Isang Punlo ng Kaaway, na itinanghal
sa Dulaang Rizal sa Malabon noong taong 1904. Tulad ng dati, dinakip muli siya ng mga Amerikano at
nabilanggo hanggang 1907. Ang muli’t muling pagdakip at pagpapabilanggo kay Abad ng mga Amerikano
ay di naging dahilan ng pagtigil niya sa pagsusulat ng mga dulang makabayan.
Tanikalang Guinto, isang maikling rebyu
Sinasalamin ng dulang Tanikalang Guinto ni Juan Abad ang panahon kung saan ang turing sa bansang
Pilipinas ay isang produktong pang-merkado/palengke na maaaring mabili lamang sa anyong pera o
tulong ng mga dayuhang manlulupig, partikular ang mga galing sa mauunlad na kanluraning bansa.
Mabisa ang paggamit ng simbolismo ng dula na lalong nagpasidhi ng sedisiyosong mensahe nito.
Mismong ang mga pangalan ay may matalinhagang kahulugan—Liwanag bilang pagmamahal sa inang
bayan, K’ulayaw na kumakatawan sa mga rebolusyonaryong Pilipino (Magdiwang ng Katipunan), Dalita na
kumakatawan sa bansang Pilipinas, Maimbot na sumisimbolo sa bansang Estados Unidos, at si Nagtapon
bilang mga traydor at bayarang alipin ng mga Amerikano. Mahusay din ang paggamit ng mga tauhang
nagpapalalim sa talinhaga ng dula gaya nila Bat, diyosa ng kabundukan, na sumisimbolo sa pamumundok
ng mga rebolusyonaryo; ang Diwa na simbolo ng patuloy na pakikibaka ni Liwanag; ang Kamatayan na
kinalawit si Maimbot; ang Demonyo na kumaladkad kay Nagtapon; at ang pagganap ng Lorong alaga ng
pamilya ni Liwanag na sumisimbolo sa hukom. Gaya ng Loro, ang paraan ng paghatol ng hukom sa
mandudula ay walang hustisya, may pagkiling at hindi ginamitan ng mas malalim na pang-unawa.
Bagaman nagsimula ang dula kung saan si Liwanag ay nasa pangangalaga ni Maimbot, sa kalaunan
ay nagpakita rin ang kanyang amain ng tunay nitong intensyon—na gaya ng Estados Unidos, sa simula ay
mabuting-loob sa mga Pilipino. Gamit ang “tanikalang ginto” (mga luhong materyal at pangakong tulong)
para suyuin ang kanyang anak-anakan, napaghiwalay ni Maimbot si Liwanag at K’ulayaw ng panandalian.

H0045
Tinangkang saktan ni Maimbot si Liwanag ngunit pinigilan siya ng Kalolowa ni Dalita na sumisimbolo sa
inang bayan. Kasama si Nagtapon, kinaladkad ni Maimbot si Liwanag upang itali sa puno ng Balite gamit
ang tanikalang ginto na nagpapahiwatig ng tuluyang pagkatali at pagkabulag ng mga Pilipino sa
banyagang mananakop. Nagpakita ang Demonyo kay Nagtapon at ang Kamatayan naman kay Maimbot,
kaya iniwan nila si Liwanag ng mag-isa. Dumating si K’ulayaw at kinalag ang tanikalang gintong
nagkukulong kay Liwanag—nagpapahiwatig ng pagtatagumpay ng rebolusyong gisingin ang mga Pilipino
mula sa mapanlinlang na banyaga. Nadatnan ni Nagtapon si K’ulayaw at agad siyang binaril, tanda ng
pagbagsak ng rebolusyon at pagbenta ng Pilipinas sa Estados Unidos ng mga ilustradong taksil (Magdalo)
sa Katipunan. Magtatangkang magpatiwakal si Liwanag ngunit pipigilan siya ng Diwa. Patuloy pa rin ang
laban ng mga Pilipino kahit na namatay na ang rebolusyon. Sa kamatayan ay muling babangon ang pag-
asang sa kabilang buhay ay magkikita muli si Liwanag at K’ulayaw, ang pagmamahal sa bayan at ang
rebolusyon ng mga Pilipino ay hindi maaaring mawalay.
AURELIO TOLENTINO
Born in Guagua, Pampanga in 1867, Aurelio Tolentino obtained his Bachiller en Artes at Colegio de
Latinidad, then enrolled at the University of Santo Tomas to study law, but stopped schooling when his
father died. Returning to his hometown to take a teaching job, a fight with a Spanish pharmacist whom he
struck on the face for calling him “barbaro” forced Tolentino to leave town and hide in Tondo, Manila.
He became acquainted with Andres Bonifacio and other Filipino patriots who engaged his help in the
printing and distribution of the censored newspaper La Solidaridad and other propaganda literature.
Inevitably, he joined the Katipunan and, with the Supremo, explored the mountainous terrain of Montalban
and San Mateo, Rizal in 1895 to search for a hiding place to direct the secret society’s military operations
in case the revolutionary movement was discovered.
With torches, the party discovered the Makarok and Pamitinan caves—supposedly of Bernardo
Carpio—on Good Friday, April 12. Inside the caves, they planned the Philippine revolution while gathering
arms and funds on the side. On the cave walls, Bonifacio wrote: “Viva la Independencia Filipina!”
At the outbreak of the 1896 revolution, Tolentino failed to escape the mass arrest and was jailed for
nine months by Spanish authorities. After his release he took part in the Bicol campaigns of the Katipunan
under Gen. Vicente Lukban.
It was with pride that Tolentino affixed his signature to the list of witnesses who signed the Declaration
of Philippine Independence in Kawit, Cavite on June 12, 1898. Later, in August 1900, he gathered his
former Katipunan comrades residing in Manila and organized the secret society, Junta de Amigos. Under
his leadership, the members formed guerilla units and carried on the armed resistance against the new
American invaders.
When Gen. Artemio Ricarte attempted to organize a new revolutionary army in 1903 after the
Americans outlawed the Junta, Tolentino was among the first to join even after Emilio Aguinaldo and his
Magdalo faction had collaborated with the United States in 1901.
He wrote two unsigned editorials for the newspaper La Independencia, which was openly critical of the
U.S. government. Two newspapers which he edited, La Patria and El Liberal were soon suppressed by the
authorities. His own newspaper, Filipinas, was also forcibly closed down. Still, Tolentino’s journalistic
career was not hindered and he began editing the Spanish newspapers, El Pueblo and El Imperial, and
their Pampango counterparts, Ing Belen and Ing Emangabiran.
Aware of the effectivity of the theater as a public forum, Tolentino turned his talents to the writing of
dramas. He coined the word “dula” for theater and became known as the Father of Tagalog Drama for his
famous verse play, Kahapon, Ngayon at Bukas, which was performed at the Teatro Liberad in Manila in
1903. At a certain point during the play’s presentation, the script called for the actor playing Taga-ilog or
Juana de la Cruz—who was shackled and imprisoned—to break his chains, force open the jail bars, and
tear down the American flag. For this, Tolentino was convicted of sedition, rebellion, insurrection, and
conspiracy by the U.S. authorities.

H0045
Pardoned in 1912, he was released from prison and continued to engage in nationalistic activities. The
plight of Filipino workers became one of his principal concerns. His admiration for the works of Dr.
Dominador Gomez, a contemporary crusader for workers’ human rights inspired Tolentino to write Bagong
Cristo—a Tagalog prose play which dealt with the relation between capital and labor. Later on, he founded
Katimawan, identified as a “samahang hanapbuhay ng mahihirap”. It was in effect a worker’s cooperative,
which was the first of its kind in the Philippines.
Tolentino’s belief that a common tongue would help ensure national unity made him an early advocate
of the adoption of Tagalog as the national language. To this end, he founded El Parnaso Filipino, a school
for the promotion of Tagalog literature.
Dakilang Asal (1907, original Tagalog version)

ni Aurelio Tolentino
I ¿May mahal pa kaya sa hiningang tangan?

Ang iyong hininga sa kanila'y utang.
PAUNAWA Ang pinagpalaki sa iyo'y paghirang,
puyat, pawis, hirap at sampu ng buhay.
O kabinataang bagong sumisibol,
itong abang lagda sa iyo'y patunkol. Ang kahima't sila ay nangahihimbing,
Pakatandaan mo itong mga hatol kapag naingit ka sila'y gumigising;
na dangal at buhay ng lahat ng dunong. kinandong-kandong ka at inaliw-aliw
at pinalayawan ng saganang lambing.
Ang pagpipitaga't pakikipagkapua
ay siyang sagisag ng pagka-dakila; Sa gayong kalaking utang na tinangap
kapág sa sinuman ito ay nawala, mo nga sa kanila'y ¿anong ibabayad?
iyan ay di dapat, humarap sa madla. Alayan man sila ng lahat ng lingap,
kulang at sa utang mo nga'y di pa sukat.
Di sukat ang ganda, di sukat ang yaman,
di sukat ang dunong at lahat ng inam; Salamat na lamang at di maniningil,
kapag ang sagisag na aking tinuran ang puhunan nila'y di ibig bawiin;
ay siyang nawala, ang lahat ay kulang. sakali ma't sila ay alalahanin
ng kahit bahagya'y malaki ng turing.
Ang pagkamabaít, ang pagka-mahinhin,
ang pagka-matapat at anyong butihin Pagkagising mo na ay agad ng hagkan
ay siyang palamuting sa tuina'y dadalhin, ang pisngi ng ina't ang sa amang kamay,
ang iyong ugali upang magluningning. kasabay ng bating malugod na "¡Inay!"
sa ama'y gayon din, ang bati ay "¡Tatay!"
Sapul pa ng ikaw ay batang maliit
may tungkulin ka ng lubhang mahihigpit, Kung matutulug na saka uulitin
gaya ng huag bigyan ng munting ligalig ang halik at bating paalam ng lambing;
ang kawawang inang sa iyo'y ninibig. nguni't sa tui-tui na ito'y bago gawin,
ang kailangan nila muna'y siyasatin.
Ikaw ay lumaki at lumaki naman
ang iyong tungkuling akin ng tinuran: Kung sakaling ikaw ay mapangusapan,
ng una'y ang iyong mundo ay kandungan sa ano mang bagay kaya'y parusahan,
ng inang malugod, ngayon ay ang bayan. ay ipag-sayá mo't darating ang araw
na matutunayang iyo'y pagmamahal.
II
Ang mga inali, at ang mga mama,
KATUNGKULAN SA MGA MAGULANG, at ang ina-ama’t ini-ina kaya,
MAESTRO, KAPATID, KAMAGANAK AT SA at ang mga nuno, at ang matatanda
LAHAT NG KAPWA ay kailagang lubos na pintuhuin nga.
Pipintuhuin mo't panuyuang kusa At ang mga iyong lahat na kapatid

ang iyong magulang na mapag-aruga, ay pakamahalin ng boong pag-ibig;
sila'y pangalawa ni Poong Bathala sa mga alila ay huag magmasungit
na dapat igalang sa balat, ng lupa. pagka't sila'y kapua, dukha lamang tikis.

H0045
Sa lahat ng tao'y lubos magpitagan, Mga kasankapang iyong magagamit,

ng upanding ikaw naman ay igalang; kung saan kinuha ay isauling saglit;
sakaling sa iyo sino ma'y magkulang, huag pabayaang masira't mawaglit,
kahabagan siya't pagdaka'y talikdan. pinuhunan dian ay maraming pawis.
Ang maestro'y siyang pangalawang ama, Ang itak, ang sandok, ang saro, ang pingan,
ang maestra nama'y pangalawang ina, ang walis, pamunas, lamesa't upuan,
kaya dapat nganing pintuhuin sila tanang kasankapang kaliit liitan
at mahaling lubos ng boong pagsinta. may kani-kaniyang dapat na kalagyan.
Binalankas lamang, kung baga sa bahay, Makita mo'y kahit iisang karayom
ang iyong ugali ng iyong magulang; na kakalat-kalat ó kaya natapon,
nguni't ang maestro'y siyang nagbibigay pulutin mo agad at ilagay doon
ng dakilang ganda't mga kasankapan. sa kung saan dapat, sa lalagyáng ukol.
Dahil sa kanila ay maihaharap Karayum ay mura't walang kasaysayan,

ang iyong ugali sa sino mang pantas, nguni't hindi ito ang siyang kahulugan:
sa pagka't sa dunong ay hindi nga salat, karayum na walá sa dapat kalagyan
sa lusok na asal nama'y hindi hubad. ay nagbabalitang musmos ang may-bahay.
At katunkulan mong lubos na mahigpit IV

sa iyong pag-aaral ang pagsusumakit;
ang lahat ng turo nila'y isa-isip, SA PAGBIBIHIS
sa lahat ng hatol nila ay manalig.
Ang damit na iyong dapat na isuot
Nangunguna sila't ang dala ay ilaw ay huag ang masagwa't huag ang dukhang
sa landas ng iyong madilim na buhay; lubos
tanang hakbang nila ay malapit sundan, ang tipon ng ganda't inam na tibubos
ng upanding ikaw ay huag maligaw. na sa katamtamang sa kulay ay ayos.
III Kailangang sumunod sa ugaling moda,

nguni't huag lumampas ng di tawanan ka,
SA PAGLILINIS NG KATAWAN AT PAG-AYOS at huag kang magsuot ng hindi mo kaya:
NG BAHAY ang mahal ay pangit sa dukhang talaga.
Pagbabangon mo na'y agad maghilamos, Paka-ingatan mo ang iyong pananamit.

magpunas ng kamay at saka magmumog, ng huag madungisan at ng di mapunit;
maglinis ng ngipin, maghusay ng buhok, mainam ang luma, kung buo’t malinis,
damit na pangbahay pagdaka'y isuot. kay sa bagong wasak ó may duming bahid.
Pagkatapos nito ay agad ganapin Marikit ang murang hiyas kay sa mahal,
ang datihang iyong katunkulang gawin, kung ang gumagamit ay dukha ngang tunay;
at maminsan minsa'y ang kuko'y putulin ang dukhang magsuot ng aring maringal
at saka maligong magkubli sa tingin. kahit man binili, parang hiram lamang.
Ang babayi'y dapat ayusin ang bahay, Kahit na sa bahay ay dapat magsuot
linisin ang sahig sampong kasankapan; ng damit na puting talagang pangloob,
sa kani-kaniyang dako ay ilagay at huag mong gayahin ang asal na buktot
ang lalong maliit na ari-arian. sa gawing malinaw...¡Hubu't hubad halos!
Bahay na maayos ay parang salamin Limutin ang cotso, at magbotitos ka,

ng nagawing buhay sa pagka-mahinhin; ang paa mo't binti upang huag makita:
bahay na magulo'y nagpasabing tambing babaying may puri di dapat magtinda
ng ugaling salat sa turong magaling. ng dapat itago sa alin mang mata.
Kailangang harapi't siyasating lahat Botitos ay mura, bukod sa mainam,

ang sa pamamahay gawang nararapat, at talagang dapat sa mahinhing asal;
at huag sayangin ang kabit nang oras, cotso't sapatilya ay napakamahal,
magagawa ngayo'y huag ipagpabukas. sa may hiyang paa talagang di bagay.

H0045
Di mo masasabing mahal na tibubos, Kung may nagsasabi ng salitáng búhay,

sapagka't matibay kung gawang Tagalog: batid mo man kahi't ay dapat pakingan,
ang tatlo mang cotso'y masisirang sunod at huag mong sabihing--"Alam ku na iyan"
bago makawasak ng isang botitos. ito ay malaking lubhang kapintasan.
At gayon din naman ang medias ay mura, Magpakailan pa man ay huag kang sumabat
nguni at mahal ma'y dapat bumili ka: ng wikang--"Mali ka"--"Sabi mo'y di tapat"
iyan nga ang tabing, sa mata ng iba, Sakali mang mali ang ating kausap,
ng binting may dangal at may puring paa. kailangang sagutin ng lubhang banayad.
Maging sa bahay ma't maging sa lansangan Ang pakli'y ganito--"Naging iba lamang,
ay huag mong limutin ang panyong alampay: ng hindi pu kayo ang siyang nagsaysay
alampay ay siyang tabing na tangulan ng gayon, ay di ko paniniwalaan"
ng dibdib-mu't batok sa mata ng bayan. sapagka't...Saka ka naman mangatwiran.
Kalsonsilyong puti na hahangang tuhod Kung ang katalo mo ay ayaw duminig

ay dapat gamiting damit na pangloob, sa sinasabi mong tunay na matwid,
ang puri mo'y upang di sumabog-sabog at sumasagot pang bagkus nagagalit,
sa mga hagdana't lilipatang bakod. hayaan mo siya't, huag ka ng umimik.
Ang tapis ay huag mong limutin kailan man, Datapua,t sakaling ang makausap mo
sa bihis Tagalog sadyang kasangkapan: ay sadyang mabait, talagang may tuto,
ang baro at saya kahit mura lamang at sa iyo'y sabihing--"Ipatawad ninyo
ay áko ng tapis, kung may sadyang inam. itong ipapakling abang palagay ko".
Huag kang maniwalang nagbuhat ang tapis Ito’y sagutin mo ng boong pitagan,
sa kakastilaang dito ay sumapit: ng boong pag-giliw, gaya ng tuturan
mga nuno natin ng tapi'y gumamit, "Ituluy pu ninyo't kikilanling utang
tapis ay nangaling sa taping binangit. ang pag-akay ninyo sa aking kamalian".
Paka-ingatan mo ang gawang magbihis, At magpakailan man ay huag mong sabihing

ang samâ at buti'y dian masisilip; "Ang sabi ko'y hindi ninyo napaglining."
diyan nahahayag ang tinagong bait, Kung di ang ganito--"Malabu marahil
diyan nababasa ang gawi at hilig. ang sinalaysay ko: aking uulitin."
V Kung saka-sakaling purihin ka naman,

ay huag mong sagutin ng wikang mahalay,
SA PAKIKIPANAYAM na gaya ng pakling--"Iyan po'y tuya lamang,
iyan po'y isang biro't kasinungalingan."
Sa lahat ng mga pakikipanayam
ang nagsásalita'y mabuting pakingan, Ganito ang iyong mga sasabihin
sapagka at lubhang kapangit-pangitan --"Iyon po'y karangalang di sukat sa akin;
ang di pumapansin sa kasalitaan. ngunit dahil diya’y aking pipiliting
ang pagkamumus ko'y papaging-dapatin."
Ikaw ay papakli, kung dapat sumagot,
ng magandang bigkás, salitang malambot: Ang bagay na lihim ay huag mong ihayag,
ang banlang sabihin ay kuruing lubos, at sa kata-kata ikaw ay umilag,
baka may mapaltik sa mga kaumpok. at huag mong purihin ang iyong kausap,
at huag mong libakin ang di mo kaharap.
Huag magbulaan sa alin mang bagay,
palatuntunan mo'y ang katotohanan; VI
ngunit sa taya mo'y kung may tatamaan,
mabuti pa nganing huag ka ng magsaysay. SA MGA PAGDALAW AT MGA KAPISANAN
Huag mong sasabatin ang nagsasalita Piliin ang oras sa mga pagdalaw,
paka-ilagan mo ang gawang manumpa, at di ang sa gawing pagkaing agahan,
at kung tatawa ka'y huag lakasang lubha di ang sa tanghali, di ang sa hapunan,
ang tawang malakas ay sa taong dusta. di ang sa pagtulog at gawang kailangan.

H0045
Mga karaniwang dalaw ay sa pistá, Lalo at marami ay lubha ngang pangit

sa araw ng lingo kung walang gambala, na sa bawa't isa ikaw ay lumapit;
at ang oras namang pinaka-maganda yukuan mo lamang sila ng marikit
ay kung ang hapunan ay naidaos na. saka mo batiin ng boong pag-ibig.
Ang dalaw na mga bigay-loob lamang[2] Ang kasankapan mo'y sakaling batiin,
ay dapat humiksî, ang gayo’y kailagan, ialay mo agad ng wikang magiliw.
at pagpilitan mo ang huag magpaliban --"Walang kasaysayan, palibhasa'y akin,
ng lubhang maluat at iyong bayaran. ngunit ang akin po'y lubos na inyo rin."
Sa alin mang pintô bago ka pumasok Ang iyong kausap kung hindi mo alila
ay huag magmadali't marahang tumugtog; ay ipáuna mo sa pagsasalita:
ang dinadalaw mo'y sakaling nanaog, "Kayo po at ako"--at di mawiwika
ikaw ay magsabi ng ganitong ayos. ang--"Ako po't kayo"--pagka't hindi tama.
--"Wala pu ba naman silang dinaramdam?" At kung marami nga ay gayon din naman,
Pagsagot ng wala--"Salamat na lamang" ikaw din ang siyang kahuli-hulihan.
--"Utang na loob po'y ipagbigay alam Ganito:--"Kayo po, si Mameng, si Ninay,
na kanila itong ninais kong dalaw." si Pepe at ako ang napagtanungan."
--"At tuloy kami po'y ipag-maka-anó...[3] Ang mga pamagat ay huag mong sambitin
sa kanilang dangal." Nguni't kung sa iyo lalo na kung pangit at masamang dingin,
sabihin ang gayon, ang isasagut mo'y na gáya nga nito:--"Si Daniel na duling,
--"Aking tutuparin ang utus pu ninyo." si Titay na bungi, si Kulas na tikling."
Sa gayo'y agad ng ikaw ay magpaalam, Mga halintulad ay paka-ilagan

isa mong tarheta'y huag na di mag-iwan; kung nakadudusta--"Aku po'y nawalan;
baliin ang isang sulok na alin man halimbawa ngayon kayo ang nagnakaw"...
--"Utang na loob po, ito ay iiwan."[4] ang gayong salita'y kasama-samaan.
Sakaling marami ang mga panauhin, Sa mga palalo ay huag kang gumaya,
yukuan mo sila't pagdakay batiin--[5] walang bukang bibig kung di ang kanila:
--"Magandang gabi po"--ang iyong sabihin, --"Ako po'y ganito"--"Ako po ay iba"
saka ang may bahay ay lapitang tambing. Ang gayon salita'y pangit na talaga.
Pagdakay iabot ang kanan mong kamay, Kung ang kausap mo ó sinu man kayâ
at ang kamay niya'y upang mahawakan, ay namaling hindi talagang sinadya,
--"¿Anu po ang atin? Ang inyong may bahay pagtakpan mo't parang hindi nahalata
at mga kasama ¿anu po ang lagay?" ng upanding siya ay huag mapahiya.
--"Mabuti po naman at walang may sakit, Pakikipagtalo ay iyong ilagan;

at ¿kayu pu naman?"--Ang sagot ay--"kahit nguni at sakaling mahirap iwasan,
sa alin mang oras ay handa pong tikis ay salaysayin mo ang iyong katwiran
na mapag-utusan sa kayang maliit." ng sabing malambot at katotohanan.
Kung may kasama kang di kilalang tao Kung paupuin ka ay iyong piliin
ng iyong kausap, agad iharap mo, ang huling upuan: ngunit kung sakaling
--"Sila po'y kaibigan: ikadadangal ko ang lusok na dako sa iyo'y ihain,
ang sila'y iharap ngayon po sa inyo." ay huag kang magtuloy kung di ka pilitin.
At ang iniharap naman ay sasagot Kung isang babayi ang siyang dadatal
--"Bagong tagasuyong napahihinuhod lahat ng dadatna'y dapat magtindigan;
at sumasa-inyong balang ipag-utos" sagutin ang bating kaniyang binitiwan,
--"Salamat po't kami ay gayon ding lubos"[6] lusok na upuan sa kanya'y ialay.
Kung may kaibigan ka sa mga dadatnan, Ngunit kung lalaki ang siyang darating,
ang iyong kasama'y iharap din naman; ay lalaki lamang ang tatayong tambing;
datapua't huag mong gagawin kailan man, ang mga babayi'y nangaka-upu ring
ang di mo kilala'y agad kakamayan. sasagot sa bati ng wikang magiliw.

H0045
Dapat na maunang mag-alay ng kamay Kung uubuhin ka ó babahin kayâ,

ang nakatataas sa pagkakamayan; gayon sa pagdahak saka sa paglura,
sa mga batian ay gayon din naman, ay dapat lumingon sa dakong kabila,
di sukat mauna ang natataasan. ang iyong kailangan upanding magawa.
Kaya ang babayi'y siyang nararapat Kublihan pagdaka ng panyo ang bibig,
mag-alay ng kamay sa makaka-usap upanding ang dumi ay huag tumilansik:
sapagka't saan mang mga paghaharap, ang mukha mo’t labi'y pahirang malinis,
ang babayi'y siya ang nakatataas. at kailan may huag kan lumura sa sahig.
Gayon man ay dito'y nakagawian na Sa lahat ng pulong ay lubos na bawal

ang mga lalaki'y siyang nangunguna. ang pagsasalita ng mga mahalay,
Babayi't lalaki kung kakamayan ka, gayon din ang bulok na kadumal dumal
kamay mo'y madaling ibigay pagdaka. ay huag mong sabihin at paka-ingatan.
Ingatan mong ikaw ay huag magdaan At huag kang mag-higab, at huag mag-antók
sa gitna ng kahit alin mang hárapan; at huag kang mag-unat, at huag mag-kamót,
nguni at sakaling lubos na kailangan, at huag kang mainip at lumingos-lingos,
hingin ang kanilang kapahintulutan. ito'y lubhang pangit at lisya sa ayos.
At huág kang humukut na gaya ng iba Ang anu mang tangan ng iyong kaharap,
na ang kanang kamay ay iniu-una: na gaya ng paypay, sakaling malaglag,
tuid ang katawan "¿Maari pu bagang pulutin pagdaka't isauli mo agad,
ako ay magdaan?"--"Magtuluy pu sila." iabot ang tatangnan, sa dulo ang hawak.
At sakaling ikaw nama'y may gagawing Ang alin mang pintong iyong dadaanan,
sandali sa labas, ay iyong sabihin kung datnan mong bukás, bukás mo ring iwan,
ng boong pitagan--"Ipagpaumanhin at kung nakasima, isima mo naman,
pu nila't sandaling sila'y lilisanin." ito'y siyang turo ng dakilang asal.
Sa pagpapa-alam ay iyong magagamit Ang kahit sinu man sa mga kalikom

ang mga sinabing pag-upo't pagtindig; sa alin mang pinto, ay makasalubong,
at kung ikaw naman ang siyang aalis, dagli mong yukuan at saka umurong,
sila ay yukuan ng anyong marikit. at iyong sabihing--"Sila po'y magtuloy."
--"Kami pu’y paalam sa kanilang lahat, Ngunit kung sakaling umurong din siya
mag-utus pu sila sa lahat ng oras." at pipilitin kang ikaw ang mauna,
--"Magandang gabi po." Kamayan mo agad kung hindi rin lamang natataasan ka,
ang mga may bahay, gayari ang saad. pasalamatan mo at magtuloy ka na.
--"Ang amin pung dampa ay inyo ring tunay[7] Ang kahit man sino ang sa iyo'y dumalaw
na sa gayong daan at gayon ang bilang. ay iyong ihatid hangang sa hagdanan:
Hinihintay naming kami'y parangalang sákaling madilim ay iyóng tanglawan
palagi ng inyong malugod na dalaw." hangang nasa loob siya ng bakuran.
Sagot ng may bahay naman ay ganito: Ang iyong kaibiga'y kung magkakasakit,
--"Inyo na pung alam itong bahay ninyo, ay manaka-nakang dalawin mong saglit;
Ninanais naming kayo’y pumarito, at kung datnan siya ng mga ligalig,
upang sa tui-tui na’y masuyuan kayo." gayon di'y dalawin, aliwin sa hapis.
Nasabing may bahay kung sadyang may nais Sa araw ng binyag ó kapanganakan
makipagkilala sa iyo ng mahigpit, ng iyong matalik na mga kaibigan,
katunkulan niyang dalawin kang tikis sila'y batiin mo ng masayang liham,
sa loob ng tatlong araw di lalabis. mahiksi ang sukat, nguni at malaman.
At sakaling siya sa iyo'y dadalaw, At gayon din naman sa pag-aasawa,

ikaw sa kaniya ay magkakautang; ó sa panganganak na lubhang ginhawa,
tadhana'y sa loob ng wawalong araw at sa lahat na ngang dapat ipag-sayá,
siya'y dalawin mo't itoy karampatan. sila ay padalhan ng liham pagdaka.--[8]

H0045
Kung patutungo ka sa alin mang bayan, At kung alayan ka ng iyong kasalo

lalo't sa malayo'y lubos na kailangan, ng alak ó kaya maging kahit anó,
bago ka umalis muna'y magpaalam sa di mu man kanin ay tatangapin mo
sa kaibigan mo't iyong katunkulan. at pasalamatan ang alay sa iyo.
Nguni at kung ikaw naman ay dumating, At kung may dadatal na ibang panauhin,
katungkulan nilang ikaw ay dalawin, lalo't kakilala'y anyayahang tambing.
sapagka't kailangang kanilang sabihing Huwag kang sumubo at siya’y iyong hinting
sila'y nagsasaya't umuwi kang magaling. makapasok muna at kayo’y lisanin.
VII VIII
SA MGA PIGING SA MGA LARO
Kung mapithaya ka sa alin mang piging, Kung kayo'y magtipon upanding mag-aliw,
huag kang magpauna sa ibang panauhin; ikaw ay magsaya, ngunit magmahinhin.
ngunit huag ka namang mahuling dumating: Pinaka matanda ay papamiliin
isipin mong ikaw ay doon hihintin. ng larong mainam na inyong gagawin.
Sa mesang pagkain kung tumatawag nga, Sa alin mang laro ay huag kang magdáya
hayaang mauna ang mga dakilâ; at huag ka rin namang mag-ingay na lubha.
at gayon din naman huag kang magkusang Kung may alanganin dapat pahatul nga
maunang tumikim sa alin mang handâ. sa hindi kalarung mga matatanda.
Huag kang magmadali't ang subo'y huag lakhan At kung may dumating na iyong kaibigan,
ang ulam ay huag mong amuyin ó hipan; ó sinu man kaya, lalu at marangal,
ang mga kubiertos ay paka-ingatan, ang ukol sa iyo sa kaniya'y ialay
upang huag kumatog na lubha sa pingan. --"¿Ibig pu ba ninyong makipag-aliwan?"
Huag mong titigan ang alin mang hain, Sakali at ikaw ay siyang manalo,
at gayon din naman kasalong panauhin sino man ang kulang ay huag singilin mo,
paka-ingatan mo't huag sasambitin at huag mong sabihing--"Magbayad po kayo"
ang bagay na baka nakaririmarim. Pahiwatig lamang--"¿Ang kulang ay sino?"
Ang iyong mga siko ay huag mong isampa Isang nananalo'y di dapat umalis,
magpakailan pa man sa kakanang mesa, kung di may malaking dahilang mahigpit;
kahit anong ulam ay huag humingi ka, nguni at ang talo ay makatitindig
huag namáng pintasan ang kahit alin pa. at huag magpakita ng kaunting galit.
Kung di mu man ibig ang dulot na hain, Kung nananalo ka ay huag kang magdiwang
kahit kakaunti ay kumuha ka rin; kung natatalo ka'y huag magngitngit naman,
magpakailan pa man ay huag mong sabihing sa laro'y madalas mahalatang tunay
--"Ang ganyan pong ulam di ko kinakain." ang walang magaling na pinag-aralan.
Ang pagsasalita, kung punô ang bibig, IX

ay bawal na lubos sa dakilang bait,
at gayon din naman ang sadyang pag-gamit SA LANSANGAN AT SA LAHAT NG DAKONG
ng dalawang panga sa pagkai'y pangit. UKOL SA MADLA
Huag mong paapawin ang baso ó copa Babayi'y di sukat lumakad sa daan
ng tubig ó alak at kahit anu pa; ng walang kasama at pangit na tignan.
bagu ka uminom pahiran mu muna ngunit sa lalaki ay hindi kailangang
ang iyong mga labi ng laang servilyeta. mapag-isa kahit saan mang galaan.
Kung maka-inom na ay gayon din naman Sa alin mang dako na ukol sa madla
ang mga labi mo'y pahirang agapan; ikaw ay magbihis ng hindi masagwa;
at huag kang umihip wari alinsangan, nguni at huag naman ang napakadukha,
ang gayo’y bawal nga sa dakilang asal. ó kaya marumi, kung dili may sira.

H0045
At kung babayi ka, huag mong pákapalan Nguni at kung kiles ang inyong sasakyan
mukha mo ng pulbos, pagka't di mainam: lalu't apat kayo'y huli ka rin naman;
manipis na pahid marikit na tingnan, sila'y paupuin sa dakong unahan,
ang kinang ng balat huag na di maparam. sa tabi ng pinto doon ka lumagay.
¿May iinam kaya sa kulay ng balat Paghintu na ninyo at kayo'y bâbabâ,

nating kayumangi't makinis, maligat? ikaw ay maunang umibis na kusà.
Pintor at poeta'y iyan ang pangarap Kung siya'y babayi ó kaya matandâ,
sapagka't nandiyan ang buhay ng dilag. agad mong abutin alalayang lubha.
Paka-ilagan mo ang satsat at daldal, Babayin tumitindig sa kaniyang upuan

gayon din ay huag kang magdunung-dunungan; at anyong aalis, may paroroonan,
nguni at huag namang parang piping tunay ang iyong pagsuyo pagdaka’y ialay:
pagka't ito'y tanda ng pagka-walang muang. "Ikadadangal kong kayo po'y samahan."
Kung may kasama kang dapat na dangalin Ito'y kagawian sa asal dakilà,
ikaw ay lumagay sa kaliwang piling, maging sa dulaan, maging sa pag-galà,
at kung sa banketa'y gumilid kang tambing maging sa pagkain kung uupu na ngâ,
sa dako ng bakod siya'y padaanin. sumaliw sa piano ó tumugtug kaya.
Kung masalubungan ang isang babayi Pagka't sa babayi'y pagdusta ngang tunay
sa mga banketa na aking sinabi ng isang lalaki kung hindi samahan;
ay dapat gumilid ang isang lalaki kaya’t ang babayi'y nararapat namang
ó bumabang saglit, ang gayon ay puri. lalaki'y huag hiyain at pasalamatan.
Maging kahit sino ang iyong masundan, At kung hindi gayo'y mapipintasan ka,
kung ibig mong siya'y iyong malampasan, mangmang na babayi, walang munting sigla,
ikaw ay bumaba ó gumilid lamang, para kang babayin bundok na talaga,
sa dako ng bakod ay huag kang magdaan. sa ugaling bayan ay di pa bihasa.
Kung ang kasama mo ay may makausap Huag mong gagayahin ang mga pintasin
na wari ay lihim lumayo kang agad, ang balang makita'y agad susukatin:
upang huag sabihing nakikitalastas gumagawa nito'y iyong mga haling
ka nga sa usapang di dapat mahayag. na hindi nag-aral ng pagka-mahinhin.
Kung kayo ay tatlo sa mga galaan Kung paparoon ka sa mga sayawan,

ay igitna ninyo ang itinatanghal, sa mga teatro't mga kapisanan,
nguni at kung kayo'y magka isang dangal, pakatandaan mong iyong katunkulan
magka-kulay damit sa tabi ay bagay. ang lalong mabining pagkamatimtiman.
At gayon din naman ang magkasintaas, Sa alin mang bagay na sadyang di pangit
sa dalawang tabi sila nararapat, ay huag mong hiyain ang sino man kahit;
ang isang mababa ó kaya matankad magbigay loob ka, na di mo man ibig,
ay siyang igitna, ang gayon ay sukat. upang purihin ka ng mga mabait.
Kailangan ngang lubos na iyong isabay Alin mang religion ay huag mong tawanan
sa mga kasama ang iyong paghakbang mga dasal nila ay pagpitaganan.
kung kayo'y titigil, ang iyong katawan Ang mga ugali sa alin mang bayan
at ulo'y itayó ng anyong mainam. gayon din ay dapat na iyong igalang.
Kung sa mga pintô ikaw ay papasok, Ang sa Protestanteng ginagawang kulto,

hakbangan ó landas na sadyang makipot, at ang kay Mahoma, at ang kay Confucio,
kung may kasama kang dapat na ilusok, at ang sa Iglesia Filipinang bago
paunahin siya't ikaw ay sumunod. ay iyong igalang, sampu ng Romano.
Sa mga karuage at mga kalesa Ang ugaling Moro, ang ugaling Insik,
kung kayo'y nasakay ay huag kang mauna; ang sa Amerikano, ang sa mga Ingles,
sa piling na kanan paupuin siya, Kastila’t Aleman, ang sa taga bukid
sa dakong kaliwa doon lumagay ka. at kahit alin pa’y igalang mong tikis.

H0045
Ang iyong religion ay kahit alin man Pintasan ang mga birong matutulis,
at ang iyong ugali’y dalisaying tunay: nguni at kailangan ang huag kang magalit:
hayaan ang iba’t huag ipagputakang kung di magsitigil, ay huag kang dumingig,
lahat ay masama’t ang iyo'y mainam. humanap ng ibang iyong makaniig.
X Ang ganda ng iba’y huag mong kaingitan,

at gayon din naman ang sa ibang yaman;
SARISARING BAGAY NA DAPAT SUNDIN subali kung siya kay sa iyo’y mainam,
ay ipagtapat mong mainam siyang tunay.
Sa harap ng iba ay huag kang magbihis,
magputol ng kuko, maghilod, mag-ahit,
huag kang magpabahin, magpunas, magwalis KATAPUSAN
at ang magpaputok ng daliri’y pangit.
MABUTI ANG BATANG MAY DAKILANG ASAL
Bawal na totoo sa dakilang asal KAY SA MATATANDANG WALANG
sa harap ng iba'y makipagbulungan; NAMUMUANGAN. DAKILA ANG DUKHANG
nguni at lalu pang kasama-samaan MAY UGALING MAHAL KAY SA WALANG
ang nakikibasa sa bukás na liham. TUTONG MGA MAYAYAMAN.
At gayon din naman ay masamang lubos

ang sa sumusulat kusang panonood; MGA TALABABA:
ang sa nag-uusap naman ay manubok
ay pangit na lubha at asal na buktot, [1] Ang DAKILANG ASAL na ito ay akma sa
lahat ng marangal na ugali sa Sanglibutan.
Sa harap ng iba ay huag kang bumahin
ng napakalakas, sapagka't pangit din. [2] Dalaw na bigay-loob ay ang unang pagdalaw
Ang labi mu’t kukó ay huag mong kagatin, sa isang nag-aanyayang dalawin sa kaniyang
ang mga paa mo'y huag pakinigin. pamamahay.
Huag mong gagayahin ang asal mababa [3] Ang salitang “ipagmaka-anó” ay siyang
ng sa bawa't bigkas, isang panunumpa katuturan sa Tagalog na dalisay ng maling
ang mga mahalay salitang salaula salitang "cumusta" na nangaling sa wikang
na gaya ng--¡Kulog!...ay kahiya-hiya. Kastilang "¿Como está?"
Magmatimtiman ka sa mga harapan, [4] Ang kahulugan ng “bali ng tarheta sa

ang masayang mukha'y lubos na kailangan alinmang apat na sulok” ay dalaw.
ikaw ay ngumiti ng maminsan-minsan
at kung matawa ka ay huag mong lakasan. [5] Hindi ang pagyukung pangit na anaki ay
natatakot ó nahihiya, kung di yaong magandang
Kung nakatayu ka't may kakaharapin, kilos na bahagyang hutok ng baiwang, kaunting
ay huag kang sumandal sa pinto ó dingding; pagbaba ng ulo at masayang mukha.
ang mga kamay mo'y huag may butingtingin,
ang dalawang paa'y itayong butihin. [6] Ang salitang "KAMI" ay nagagamit ng kahit,
iisa't walang kasama, at siyang palaging
Kung naka-upu ka'y ang iyong mga hita kagamitan ng mga maririkit managalog, gaya rin
ay huag pagpatungin sapagka't pangit nga ng salitang "SILA" na ginagamit at ipinapalit sa
at huag mu rin namang paunating lubha salitang "KAYO". Sa katunayan nga ay marikit
ang iyong mga paa sa may dakong gitna. pakingan ang “PAALAM NA PU KÁMI SA
KANILA" kay sa "PAALAM NA PU AKO SA
Sa usapang di mo lubos nalilining, INYO". Marikit pakingan ang "Magtuloy po SILA
ay huag kang sumisid ng lubhang malalim: dine sa AMIN" Kay sa "Magtuloy pu KAYO dini
ikaw ay pumakli, kung bagat may dahil; sa AKIN".
ang bawat bigkás mo'y timbanging magaling.
[7] Kung hindi pa nalalaman ng pinagpapa-
Ang kahima’t sino’y huag mong pagmamasdang alaman ang pangalan ng nagpapa-alam, ay
parang sinisiyasat: ang gayon ay bawal; kailangan sabihin.
nguni’t titingnan mong sandali kung minsan,
ng di parang iyong pinagmamalakhan.

H0045
[8] Mga Liham LIHAM SA KAPANGANACAN
LIHAM SA MGA NAG-AASAWA Ninay na giliw:
Mga G. G. Miguel Bantog at Binabati kita ng boong tua dahil sa araw ng

Esther Dalisay. iyong kapanganakan.
Mga piling kaibigan: Uma-anib ako sa iyong malugod na kasayahan

at ninanais ko ng taos sa puso na lumawig nawa
Tangapin pu nila ang masigabong tua na ambag ang iyong buhay sa gitna ng lalong maligayang
niaring loob sa ikaliligaya hangang buhay nang Kapalaran.
kani lang malugod na pag-iisang puso.
Tangapin mo ang aking masintahing halik.
Ninanais ku po ng taimtim sa calooban na
abuluyan sila ng langit ng saganang biaya. Ang iyong
Na sa panunuyo. Iday.
Feliza Ilawdagat Octubre 15-1906
Octubre 15-1906 *******************************************************
G. CESAR PANGILINAN.
LIHAM SA MGA LUMULUSOK
Mahal na Ginoo:
G. Jacob Pinkian.
Ikinadadangal ku po ang aking pag-anib sa
Piling katoto: inyong malugod na kasayahan, dahil sa malubay
na pagsupling ng inyong giliw na asawa.
Hinatdan kita ng masayáng paonlak dahil sa
paglusok mo sa iyong pinapasukan. Ninanais kong ang bagong supling ay lumago,
mamulaklak at magbunga sa ikagiginhawa ng
Ninanais kong ikaw ay dumakila sa íkadadangal bayan.
nitong ating lupang tinubuan.
Na sa pagpipitagan,
Sumasa-iyo.
Leonardo Tagabundok.
Abdon Sinagaraw
Octubre 15-1906
Octubre 15-1906
LIHAM SA NAMAMATAYAN
G. Concepción Panghalina
Mahal na Ginoo:
Uma-anib pu ako ng tunay na pagdamay sa

kahapisang inilagak sa inyo ng kamatayang
sumamsam ng mahalagang buhay ng inyong
nasirang kapatid.
¡Sumalangit nawa siya!
Mag-utos pu sila.
Alberto Maningas
Octubre 15-1906

H0045
The sarswela (zarzuela), a form of musical theater presented to the Spanish courts, also became
popular. Unlike the komedya which teaches a moral lesson, the sarswela is for entertainment—
usually a love story. The drama form was later used as a vehicle for subversion against colonial
rule, with plays like Walang Sugat (Not Wounded, 1902) by Severino Reyes, Paglipas ng
Dilim (After the Darkness, 1920) by Precioso Palma, and Sa Bunganga ng Pating (At the
Mercy of the Sharks, 1921) by Julian Cruz Balmaseda.
SEVERINO REYES, isang maikling talambuhay
Si Severino Reyes ang itinuturing na Ama ng Sarswela. Isa siyang mahusay na direktor at manunulat
ng dula. Ipinaganak noong 1861 sa Santa Cruz, Maynila, tinapos niya ang kanyang hayskul at batsilyer sa
sining sa Colegio de San Juan de Letran, at kumuha rin ng kurso sa Unibersidad ng Santo Tomas.
Nang itinatag ang magasing Liwayway noong 1923, si Binoy (palayaw ni Reyes) ang naging unang
patnugot nito. Siya rin ang nagsilbing pangulo ng Aklatang Bayan at ginawang kasapi ng Ilaw at Panitik,
kapwa mga samahan ng mga manunulat.
Sa edad na 41, si Reyes ay nagsimulang magsulat ng mga dula. Ang R.I.P., noong 1902 ang naging
una niyang dula. Sa taon ding iyon ay isinulat niya ang dulang Walang Sugat, na masasabing isa sa mga
pinakakilala niyang akda. Ang Walang Sugat ang naging simula ng ginintuang panahon ng sarswela sa
Pilipinas. Itinatag din niya ang Gran Compañia de la Zarzuela Tagala nang taon ding iyon upang
maitanghal ang kanyang mga dula sa mga teatro sa Maynila, pati na rin sa mga entablado sa mga kalapit
probinsya.
Ang mga dula ni Reyes ay naisapelikula rin, tulad ng Walang Sugat noong 1939 at 1957, at ang Minda
Mora noong 1929.
Sarswela
Ang sarswela ay isang dulang may kantahan at sayawan, mayroong isa hanggang limang kabanata, at
nagpapakita ng mga sitwasyon ng Pilipino na may kinalaman sa mga kwento ng pag-ibig at
kontemporaryong isyu. Ito rin ay tinatawag na zarzuela, sarsuela/sarsuwela, dulang inawitan, dulang
hinonihan, drama-lirico, at operetta.
Ito ay dumating sa Maynila noong 1879 sa pagtatanghal ng dulang Jugar con Fuego (Play with Fire) ng
Kastilang grupo ni Dario de Cespedes. Sa mga sumunod na taon, marami pang mga grupo ang dumating
sa bansa na nagdulot ng inspirasyon sa mga Pilipino upang gumawa ng sarili nilang orihinal na sarswela
sa wikang Tagalog, Pampango, Ilokano, Cebuano, Ilongo, at Waray.
Ang An Pagtabang ni San Miguel ang unang sarswela sa Waray, na may iskrip at musika ni Norberto
Romualdez. Ang Ing Managpe naman ni Mariano Proceso Pabalan Byron ang naging unang sarswela sa
Kapampangan.
Ang sarswela ay maaari ring maglarawan ng mga tema ng pagmamahal sa bayan sa panahon ng
rebolusyon, tulad ng Walang Sugat (1902); ng panlilibak sa mga kahinaan ng pagkatao ng mga Pilipino,
tulad ng Paglipas ng Dilim (1920); ng pagtuligsa sa mga baluktot na gawain, gaya ng mataas na interes sa
pautang, na ipinakita ng Bunganga ng Pating (1921); at ng paglalahad ng isang kawili-wiling kwento ng
pag-ibig, gaya ng Anak ng Dagat (1921) at Dalagang Bukid (1919).
Magmula pa noong sinaunang dekada ng ika-20 na siglo hanggang sa kasalukuyan, ang sarswela ay
itinatanghal na ng mga komersyal na grupo sa mga teatro sa malalaking siyudad tulad ng Maynila, Iloilo, at
Cebu o sa mga entablado sa mga rural na lugar tuwing may kapistahan.
Mga pininturahang telon ang nagtatakda ng tagpo sa bawat eksena. Nakikilala naman ang bida at
kontrabida sa pamamagitan ng kanilang pag-arte at pananamit. Isang maliit o malaking orkestra ang
sumasabay sa mga kanta, na karaniwang isinasama ang kundiman, balitaw, balse, danza, fox-trot, at kung
anuman na sikat na musika sa naturang panahon. Isang pangkalahatang direktor ang nagsasanay sa mga
aktor at nakikipag-ugnayan sa direktor ng musika, na kumukumpas ng orkestra; sa maestro del coro (choir
master), na nagsasanay naman sa pag-awit ng mga aktor; sa tramoista (technician), na gumagawa ng
mga telon at props; sa electricista (electrician) na nangangalaga sa ilaw na gagamitin sa sarswela; sa
H0045
apuntador (prompter) na nagdidikta mula sa concha (shell) sa harap ng entablado; at ang iba pang mga
tauhan na kasama sa pagtatanghal.
Si Lola Basyang
Kinalaunan, si Reyes ay naging kilala sa mga kwentong isinulat niya tungkol kay Lola Basyang.
Nagsimula ang Lola Basyang noong siya ay naging punong-patnugot sa Liwayway. Nang sinabihan siya
ng kanyang mga patnugot na wala ng natitirang materyales upang punuin ang isang maliit na espasyo sa
isang pahina ng magasin, kinailangan niyang sumulat ng isang kwento—“Plautin ni Periking”—upang
umabot ang babasahin sa takdang oras ng paglilimbag. Matapos na maisulat ang maikling kwento, nag-
isip siya ng ibang pangalan na maaaring ilagay bilang may-akda ng istorya. Naalala niya ang matandang
babae na kapitbahay ng kanyang kaibigan sa Quiapo, Maynila. Ang pangalan ng babae ay Gervacia
Guzman de Zamora o mas kilala bilang sa tawag na “Tandang Basyang”. Tuwing alas-4 ng hapon,
nagsasama-sama ang mga kabataan sa kanilang lugar at nakikinig sa mga kwento ni Tandang Basyang.
Kaya mula noon, ang mga kwento na sinusulat ni Reyes ay may pirma na Lola Basyang. Unang nailathala
ang “Mga Kwento ni Lola Basyang” sa Liwayway noong 1925 at inabot ito ng mahigit 500 istorya.
Makalipas ang maraming taon ay binigyan ng panibagong interpretasyon ang mga popular na kwento ni
Lola Basyang tulad ng sa:
• Komiks—Noong 1949, ang anak ni Binoy na si Pedrito ay isinalin ang ilang orihinal na manuskrito
ng kanyang ama at isinalarawan ang mga kwento ni Lola Basyang sa Tagalog Komiks.
• Pelikula—Noong 1958, ipinalabas ng Sampaguita Pictures ang magkatambal na kwentong “Si

Pedrong Walang Takot” na pinangunahan ng komedyanteng si Dolphy at “Ang Prinsesang Naging
Pulubi” na nagtampok naman kay Gloria Romero. Matapos ang ilang dekada, noong 1985, ay
ibinalik muli ng Regal Films sa mga sinehan ang mga kwento ni Lola Basyang sa pamamagitan ng
tatlong istoryang “Nahihimbing na Kagandahan”, “Zombie”, at “Kerubin”.
• Teatro—Noong 2006 ay itinanghal ng Philippine Educational Theater Association (PETA) ang tatlo
sa mga kwento ni Lola Basyang: “Ang Prinsipeng Mahaba ang Ilong”, “Binibining Tumalo sa Mahal
na Hari”, at “Ang Prinsipeng Duwag”.
• Telebisyon—Nitong 2007, ang mga kwento ni Lola Basyang ay ginawang seryeng pantelebisyon
ng GMA 7 na pinapalabas tuwing Linggo ng gabi; umabot ito ng 24 na episodyo na nagsimula sa
“Ang Mahiwagang Kuba” at nagtapos sa “Pitong Hilo (Tanga)”.
References:
Lumbera, B. & Lumbera, C. (1982). Philippine Literature: A History and Anthology. Manila: National
Bookstore.
Project Gutenberg http://www.gutenberg.org/ retrieved April 2009.
The Premier Digital Library of the Philippines. http://www.filipiniana.net/, retrieved April 2009.

H0045
Literature under the U.S.: Commonwealth Period

By 1901, public education had been institutionalized in the Philippines by the American colonial
government, with English as the medium of instruction. That year saw the arrival of around
600 educators in the ship U.S.S. Thomas (the “Thomasites”) to replace the soldiers who had
been serving as the first English teachers. From the new public schools came the first Filipino
writers in English who sought to capture Philippine experience in the colonizer’s language.
English newspapers like the Manila Times (1898), Daily Bulletin (1900), The Cablenews (1902),
the Philippine Free Press (1905), the Philippine Herald (1920), the Philippine Education
Magazine (1924), and later the Manila Tribune (1925), the Graphic (1927), Woman’s Outlook,
and Woman’s Home Journal helped boost the spread of the language.
Verse and prose works by Filipinos appeared in student publications such as The Filipino
Students’ Magazine (1905)—a short-lived quarterly published in California by Filipino
pensionados (government scholars), the U.P. College Folio (1910) of the University of the
Philippines, The Coconut of the Manila High School (1912), and The Torch of the Philippine
Normal School (1913).
In this period, the sarswela—the popular musical theater in the 1920s through the 1930s—was
replaced on the city stages by drama in English by foreign authors, and later by the works of
such Filipino playwrights as Wilfrido Ma. Guerrero (Three Rats, 1948), Severino Montano
(Sabina, 1953), and Alberto Florentino (The World Is an Apple, 1953) among others.
WILFRIDO MA. GUERRERO
Born to a wealthy family in 1917 in Ermita, Manila, Wilfrido Ma. Guerrero wrote his first high school play
“No Todo Es Risa” at age 14, which was later produced at the Ateneo de Manila when he turned 15. After
studying at the University of the Philippines, and briefly at Columbia University, he worked as a reporter-
proofreader for La Vanguardia, and as a drama critic for the Manila Tribune.
He worked for some time in Philippine Films as a scriptwriter before becoming an assistant professor of
dramatics—despite his lack of a degree, then the director of the U.P. Dramatic Club in 1947, for which he
produced and directed over 120 plays.
In 1950, Guerrero wrote and directed for radio under the program “Dulaan ng Buhay”. In 1962, he
organized and directed the U.P. Mobile Theater which went on the road to present all over the Philippines,
with over 1,880 performances in all. The mobile theater became the recipient of two awards: the Citizen’s
Council for Mass Media trophy (1966) and the Balagtas Award (1969).
Several of Guerrero’s plays have been translated into and produced in Chinese, Italian, Spanish,
Tagalog, Visayan, Ilocano, and Waray. Six of his plays have also been produced abroad: “Half an Hour in
a Convent”, “Three Rats”, “Condemned”, “One, Two, Three”, “Wanted: A Chaperon”, and “Conflict” in the
U.S., Hawaii, and Australia.
He is the first Filipino to have a theater named after him within his lifetime: The Wilfrido Ma. Guerrero
Theater at U.P. Guerrero has also been the recipient of three national awards: the Rizal Pro-Patria Award
(1961), the Araw ng Maynila Award (1969), and the Republic Cultural Heritage Award (1972).
Upon his death in 1995, his colleagues in the theater and the academe drafted a resolution declaring
him National Artist. Two years later, the national government officially proclaimed Guerrero as “National
Artist for Theater”.
History of Philippine Literature: Commonwealth Period *Property of STI

H0045
Three Rats (Tatlong Ulupong, play)

by Wilfrido Ma. Guerrero
CHARACTERS: NITA: (Laughing again). No, Gonzalo, remember?
We got her when we were married…and we
GONZALO
have been married only seven months. (She
NITA (his wife) sits beside her husband and puts her arm
around him.) Do you know that the prices of
ADRIAN (his best friend)
canned goods have gone up? And it took me a
PLACE: long time before I could find the right pair of
shoes to go with this dress. Luckily I found what
Forbes Park, a suburb of the rich near Manila. I wanted at Rustan’s. By the way, Menchu
SCENE: came this afternoon and brought me the towels.
The living room. A coffee table in front of the GONZALO: Hmmm?
sofa. On left side, a large balcony through NITA: You aren’t listening, Gonzalo.
which the street lights pour in. On a table near
the balcony are a telephone and a lamp. A floor GONZALO: Who did you say came?
lamp beside the sofa. Magazines on the tables. NITA: Menchu. I had her initial the new towels.
The room reveals the refined taste of the
They turned out to be perfectly charming. Your
owners.
initials are in blue.
TIME:
GONZALO: You said somebody came this
Evening, about nine o’clock. August. afternoon?
(Gonzalo is seated on the sofa, reading the paper. NITA: (Laughing long) Yes, Menchu, the woman
He is tall, with a compelling personality. About who does the embroidery.
27, he possesses a warm and attractive charm, GONZALO: Ah yes. Sorry, Nita. Who else?
except for his piercing eyes which can flash with
contempt when the occasion demands. He NITA: No one else, Gonzalo. (She starts
wears a well-cut suit, and a flashing red tie. He imperceptibly, a flitting across her face. But all
speaks with a low caressing voice.) this Gonzalo does not notice. Suddenly he puts
down the paper and stares at her dress, Nita
(Nita, his wife, comes in with a large tray, with a pot
sits, inexplicably tense.)
of coffee and two cups, etc. She is an attractive
woman of 19. She is rather short, with laughing GONZALO: Nita.
eyes and a gentle voice. Her expression is
NITA: (With a slight trembling of the voice) Yes?
innocent, and there is a subtle air of
adolescence about her. She wears a striking GONZALO: How come?
evening gown.)
NITA: What do you mean?
NITA: Here’s the coffee, Gonzalo. (She sets the
GONZALO: What are you all dressed up for? (Nita
tray on the table.)
relaxes and laughs again.)
GONZALO: (Without lifting his eyes from the paper)
NITA: Like it?
Is it hot?
GONZALO: Exquisite.
NITA: (Laughing) Boiling. (She pours a cup and
gives it to him.) Here. (He takes his cup, slowly NITA: I’m glad it’s to your taste. I’m merely trying it
sips it, without taking his eyes off the paper.) on for the big day tomorrow.
You must be tired from your trip to Baguio.
GONZALO: Tomorrow?
GONZALO: Not at all, Nita.
NITA: You haven’t forgotten, Gonzalo?
NITA: Two whole weeks. Long enough for me. I
GONZALO: Frankly, it escapes my memory.
was…lonely.
GONZALO: Were you? (Looks at her briefly) NITA: Our wedding, sort of…anniversary.
GONZALO: Our first anniversary?
NITA: Of course, Gonzalo. I forgot to tell you. I
dismissed the maid this morning. I couldn’t NITA: (Bursting out laughing) No, no, Gonzalo.
stand her insolent ways. We’ve been married only seven months. We
GONZALO: Cora insolent? I never noticed it. She decided, during our honeymoon…remember?
To celebrate our anniversary every month of
was quite efficient, it seems to me…and we’ve
our marriage.
had her for a good many years.

H0045
GONZALO: Ah, this beautiful forgetful memory of NITA: (Embracing him) Oh Gonzalo, thanks! I’m a
mine. lucky woman to have such a wonderful
husband. (Gonzalo smiles briefly, but there is
NITA: (Playfully) Yes, I know it has been getting
irony in his smile. Nita starts putting the cups on
worse lately. Two weeks ago, before you went
the tray.)
up to Baguio, we decided to go out and
celebrate at the Jai-Alai that’s where we met for GONZALO: Nita, did a man come this afternoon?
the first time…a year ago.
NITA: (Stiffening imperceptibly) A man? Why…no.
GONZALO: Or like it, definitely.
GONZALO: I mean…I sent a man to fix the TV set.
NITA: (Mockingly, but hurt) Well, I am flattered.
NITA: No, nobody came…aside from Menchu. But
Husbands are so hard to please these days.
there’s nothing wrong with our TV, Gonzalo. I
GONZALO: Where did we celebrate last month? was watching my favorite program half an hour
ago. (Gonzalo, aware that his wife is staring at
NITA: We went to Hilton.
him, tries to laugh it off.)
GONZALO: And the month before that?
GONZALO: I’m sorry…an agent was selling me a
NITA: May I refresh your failing memory? The new TV set this morning…and I thought I had
month before last we had supper at Bon bought it. Oh, what am I saying? This splendid
Vivant…and the previous month we went to La memory of mine, Nita.
Parrilla and afterwards to Manila Hotel for
NITA: (Smiling) And you at the decrepit age of
dancing.
twenty-seven.
GONZALO: The first month?
GONZALO: (Changing the subject) The coffee still
NITA: We went to that panciteria on Carvajal street. warm?
GONZALO: Couldn’t we go tomorrow to another NITA: (Touching the pot) It is. (She fills up his cup
panciteria and just have siopao and arroz again. Gonzalo has sat down. As he drinks his
caldo? coffee, Nita, her back to him, is arranging the
tray. Gonzalo takes out a piece of paper and
NITA: Oh no, Gonzalo! I want to show off my
unfolds it. Nita turns and sees it.) What’s that,
beautiful dress! Gonzalo?
GONZALO: As you wish, Nita. Know something? GONZALO: (Quietly) Cyanide.
NITA: What? NITA: Cyanide?
GONZALO: You look as beautiful and as young as GONZALO: Potassium cyanide.
that night we met.
NITA: Is it dangerous?
NITA: But, Gonzalo, do you expect me to turn into
an old hag so soon? GONZALO: It should be. People are known to
commit murder or suicide…with it.
GONZALO: I must buy you a present then. What
would you like? NITA: Is it that fatal?
NITA: How much can you afford? GONZALO: Those are the rumors.
GONZALO: The sky’s the limit… NITA: (Alarmed) Why do you carry it around with
you?
NITA: Is business that good?
GONZALO: Oh…just as a joke.
GONZALO: I closed a big deal in Baguio.
NITA: Gonzalo! Carrying poison around isn’t a joke.
NITA: I saw a diamond bracelet at Estrella del Sur
that simply took my breath away. GONZALO: Well, it isn’t the kind of joke the
average person would indulge in, but, Nita,
GONZALO: How much?
don’t bother your pretty little head about it.
NITA: A bargain, practically. Cyanide is sold in drugstores, and you wouldn’t
order closing the drugstores because of it,
GONZALO: How much of a bargain? would you?
NITA: Ten thousand (Gonzalo gives a low whistle. NITA: (Sitting beside him) Why, in heaven’s name,
Nita laughs too. She stands up.) That’s too do you have that poison with you?
much, I know. I was only kidding. But you did
say the sky’s the limit, so… GONZALO: It isn’t just ordinary poison…it’s an
unusual one. I use it in my business. Cyanide is
GONZALO: You heard right, Nita. Buy it. a necessary ingredient in the plating process.
We couldn’t do without it.
H0045
NITA: I understand now, Gonzalo. But I still think GONZALO: No, nothing important really. (Changing
you should throw it away. (Taking two or three his tone) By the way, has Adrian been around?
crystals of cyanide, Gonzalo drops them inside
NITA: Not since you left two weeks ago.
the cup. Nita gasps softly.) Gonzalo!
GONZALO: Does he know I am back?
GONZALO: Will you stop worrying? You can throw
it away later. NITA: How could he? You arrived only a few hours
ago.
NITA: But the cup…
GONZALO: Nita, please bring me some whisky,
GONZALO: You can throw away the cup and the
please.
cyanide together.
(Nita picks up her cup and puts it in the tray.)
NITA: But the cup is from my favorite coffee set.
Adrian gave it to us. GONZALO: (Laughingly) You know what your
cousin Chita once said at a party? She said that
GONZALO: He did?
Filipinos who have bars in their homes are
NITA: It was his wedding present… Oh Gonzalo, cheap imitators of Hollywood and the American
your memory! ways, and…guess what else she said?
GONZALO: I can always buy you another. NITA: What?
NITA: You wouldn’t find another one like it, even if GONZALO: She said drinking in one’s home is a
you looked all over town. sign of decadence.
GONZALO: One set is as good as another. NITA: Can you imagine her insolence?
NITA: (Softly but with a strained tone) No, it isn’t, GONZALO: Perhaps she’s right, Nita. Perhaps
Gonzalo. The sentimental value… we’re becoming decadent (Gonzalo still holds
the cup with cyanide in it; Nita puts out her hand
GONZALO: People attach too much importance to
to get the cup, when the telephone rings. Nita
sentimental value. One should attach himself to
grows slightly tensed. She puts down the tray
nothing and to nobody. (Nita looks at him,
and is about to answer the telephone, but
aghast.)
Gonzalo rises abruptly, still holding the cup, and
NITA: (Slowly and softly, as if afraid to contradict goes to the table.) Hello? …Adrian (Nita
him.) How can you say that, Gonzalo? Attach becomes apprehensive.) Well…talk about the
oneself to nothing and to nobody. Don’t I mean devil! Nita and I were just talking about you.
anything to you? And Adrian…your best (Nita pretends to busy herself with the tray, but
friend…you’ve always been so attached to him. she is listening.) Oh, I arrived a few hours ago.
Where are you now? In the drugstore across
(Gonzalo stares at her briefly, smiles feebly, and
the street? Well, drop over. When? Right now…
goes to her.) No, no, Nita and I are still awake. I’ll give you
GONZALO: Sorry Nita. Business worries and all exactly one minute. (He promptly puts down the
that sort of thing. You know how deeply receiver. Gonzalo has left the cup on the table.)
attached I am to you. NITA: What did he want?
NITA: And to Adrian. GONZALO: Nothing. He said he was calling from
GONZALO: And to Adrian. the drugstore. How did he know I was back?
NITA: The doctor told you time and time again to NITA: He probably heard about it.
take good care of your hyperthyroid. You refuse GONZALO: (After a brief pause) Naturally.
to take Lugol. He also told you to avoid any
emotional strain. NITA: (Taking the tray) I’ll get the whisky… (She
goes out. Gonzalo sits immobile. His eyes turn
GONZALO: I know, Nita, I know. All this irritability
to the table where the fatal cup lies. He stands
and my high-strung condition… up, picks up the cup, and puts it down again. He
NITA: (With a conciliatory tone) You should have goes to the balcony, waves his hand at
taken a good rest in Baguio, instead of rushing someone he has seen. Nita comes in with a
about with your business… tray.)
GONZALO: I did try to rest up there, but something GONZALO: Adrian is here!
unexpected came up… I got through with my (Nita sets the tray on the low table, as Adrian
business sooner than I expected. comes in. Adrian is 25, with a boyish
NITA: Something unexpected? Something serious? personality. He wears a pair of brown pants and
a light-colored coat. He carries his clothes
indifferently. He smokes incessantly. His voice
H0045
is slightly high-pitched but pleasant. He goes to ADRIAN: Ouch! Boiling!

Gonzalo and shakes hands).
NITA: Gonzalo likes it that way.
ADRIAN: When did you get back?
ADRIAN: I’ll wait till it cools off a little.
GONZALO: Didn’t you know I was back?
GONZALO: (Filling up his glass with more whisky.)
ADRIAN: (Flushing) Why…er…yes. I missed you, As you wish. (Nita sits beside Gonzalo.)
Gonzalo. (Turning to Nita) Hello, Nita. Stepping
NITA: You know what your friend Gonzalo said a
out?
while ago?
NITA: (Pointing to her dress) Oh, this? No, just
ADRIAN: Not unless you tell me…
trying it on (Gonzalo has motioned Adrian to sit
down.) NITA: He said, and I quote: “One should attach
himself to nothing and to nobody.”
GONZALO: Whisky, Adrian?
ADRIAN: Did you really, Gonzalo?
ADRIAN: You know. I never touch it.
GONZALO: I don’t remember.
NITA: How about some coffee?
NITA: Imagine Gonzalo talking like that, when he
ADRIAN: I don’t mind. (Nita goes out.)
talked so much about you before we got
GONZALO: Where have you been hiding yourself? married. In fact, once or twice we had a quarrel
because he insisted on repeating “Adrian said
ADRIAN: I’ve been very busy lately.
this and Adrian said that and Adrian and I did
GONZALO: You and your restless nature. You this…” (Pause) How old were you when you
have passed the bar exams. Why don’t you get became friends?
settled once and for all?
ADRIAN: I was about ten then.
ADRIAN: I will Gonzalo, I will.
GONZALO: Adrian and I went to grade school
GONZALO: What did you call me up for just now. together.
Adrian?
NITA: You managed to be classmates all the time?
(Adrian hesitates briefly.)
GONZALO: We managed.
ADRIAN: Er…my cigarette case. The plating
NITA: But aren’t you older?
finished?
GONZALO: By tad years. Once, in seventh grade,
GONZALO: It was ready before I left for Baguio. I
the teacher insisted on putting us in separate
have it here with me. (Takes cigarette case
sections.
from his pocket) You’ll hardly recognize it. It
looks like new. ADRIAN: The teacher thought I was smarter and
should be in Section A.
ADRIAN: This was a present from you…our college
graduation, remember? GONZALO: But Adrian went to the principal’s office
and pleaded…
GONZALO: Yes, I remember. The saleslady told
me it was gold…but it turned out to be only ADRIAN: I won. We both stayed in the same
gold- plated. section.
ADRIAN: You’re looking fine, Gonzalo. NITA: Section A?
GONZALO: Frankly, I lost a few pounds. (Gonzalo ADRIAN: No, Section C. (They laugh.)
goes near the balcony, lights a cigarette.) By
GONZALO: Adrian looked so boyish then…he was
the way, Adrian, were you here this afternoon?
considered the best-looking in school…that I
ADRIAN: Yes, Gonzalo. used to tease him by calling him Baby Face.
GONZALO: At what time? NITA: He still retains much of that baby-like
expression, doesn’t he? (They laugh again.
ADRIAN: I came at about two, but the maid told me
Gonzalo grows serious.)
Nita was asleep, so I left. I thought perhaps you
had already arrived from Baguio. Didn’t the GONZALO: Adrian had a characteristic then.
maid tell you?
ADRIAN: Yeah? What was that?
GONZALO: (Picking up the cup and setting it down)
GONZALO: Mind you, I am not saying you still have
Oh yes she told me. (Nita comes in with the
it…besides, it wasn’t anything usual.
coffee tray, but has forgotten to bring in cups.
She puts it down on the coffee table. Adrian NITA: A characteristic?
feels the pot.)
H0045
GONZALO: Adrian was seldom satisfied with what ADRIAN: (Taking the check) Thanks. You know I’ve
he had. Once…in high school… never had much use for women.
NITA: I see your memory is still good, Gonzalo. GONZALO: It’s about time you started looking for
someone to settle down with.
GONZALO: (Quietly) Yes, strange how oftentimes
our memory vividly relives incidents hidden in ADRIAN: If I find the right girl…
our past…
GONZALO: And your idea of the right woman?
ADRIAN: Go ahead. You were saying…
ADRIAN: You know what my idea of the right girl…
GONZALO: Well, my mother gave me, on my
GONZALO: I still remember it. “She must be
birthday, a linen suit. Adrian liked it so much he
serious and intelligent, she must be a virgin
insisted on borrowing it every Sunday. He had
and…”
other suits, but he fell in love with this particular
one. ADRIAN: Can you find a woman like that
nowadays?
NITA: What happened?
GONZALO: There aren’t many, I admit, but if you
GONZALO: I finally gave it to him.
look hard enough… (Nita comes in.)
ADRIAN: (Laughing) I don’t recall that incident.
NITA: Here it is. (Both men look at the picture and
GONZALO: And on another occasion, Nita. Guess then burst out laughing).
what I found this afternoon, while looking over
ADRIAN: Gonzalo looked scared or something.
some papers? Some pictures of our wedding.
GONZALO: I was. The last words in the ritual “till
GONZALO: (Suddenly) Not becoming sentimental
death do us part” were still ringing in my
at so early a stage of our marriage, are you,
ears…and the doctor had just told me I might
Nita?
live up to seventy. (Nita laughs long and loud.)
NITA: I know, but Adrian was best man…and he
NITA: Look who’s talking? I hope to live up to eighty
looked so funny in one of the pictures. He was
myself.
staring at me, while you, Gonzalo, were looking
somewhere else. GONZALO: (As he pours himself another drink)
You know, Adrian was always an idealist. That’s
ADRIAN: Let me see it. I haven’t seen any of the
why he hasn’t married yet. He’s twenty-four.
wedding pictures.
ADRIAN: Twenty-five.
NITA: I’ll get them. (Nita goes out. Gonzalo walks
over to the table, picks up the poisoned cup and NITA: I like the cold-blooded callousness with which
places is on the low table of the sofa.) men reveal their age.
ADRIAN: Gonzalo…I’m glad you’re back. (Gonzalo GONZALO: I remember during our college
looks at Adrian for a brief moment. With the days…Adrian fell in love once. When he found
usual clairvoyance of old friends being able to out the girl had a regular boyfriend, he gave her
read each others expression, Gonzalo goes to up.
Adrian and puts his arm around him.)
NITA: But if the girl was engaged…
GONZALO: What’s wrong?
GONZALO: She wasn’t. And even if she were, that
ADRIAN: I…er…I’m in trouble again. doesn’t stop most men from going after her.
GONZALO: Financial? (Adrian nods sheepishly.) NITA: Men’s tremendous conceit. And you still have
How much is it this time? those ideals, Adrian?
ADRIAN: Quite a sum. GONZALO: Adrian will never change.
GONZALO: One thousand? NITA: Don’t rush him. He’ll give up those ideals yet.
ADRIAN: Two and a half. (Gonzalo takes out his GONZALO: (Brusquely) Why? (Caught by the
check book and pen, and sits down.) suddenness, Nita stops.)
GONZALO: Poker? NITA: Well, people…sometimes…alter their ideals
as they grow older, don’t they?
ADRIAN: Races and Jai-Alai. (Gonzalo writes out
the amount.) GONZALO: (Softening his tone) You’re right.
People shouldn’t hold on to their original ideals,
GONZALO: (Giving him the check) You haven’t
too long. (Taking the bottle again) Want a drink,
changed, Adrian. (After a pause) No woman
Adrian?
trouble?
ADRIAN: But I don’t drink.
H0045
NITA: Just try once, Adrian. ADRIAN: Unfortunate husband.

ADRIAN: All right. (Adrian takes the drink. As he GONZALO: (Laughing) Unfortunate, my eye! Stupid
puts back the glass on the table, the newspaper rather!
falls off the low table.)
ADRIAN: But why?
GONZALO: (Picking up the newspaper and tossing
NITA: Gonzalo, how can you be so callous? After
it on a chair). Have you read this afternoon’s
all, he had the right to kill her.
paper?
GONZALO: Because she was unfaithful to him?
ADRIAN: Haven’t had time.
Decades ago that might have been justified, but
GONZALO: There’s an interesting item on the front in an enlightened age like ours, killing a
page. faithless wife or her lover speaks none too
highly of the husband’s sense of proportion.
NITA: What about?
ADRIAN: (Shocked) What an idea, Gonzalo!
GONZALO: About a murder last night.
GONZALO: To kill the wife because she is
NITA: I shudder at the mere sound of the word
unfaithful is for the husband to admit that he
“murder”.
has lost her…and if you lose something or
GONZALO: (Laughing briefly) You never can tell, somebody, don’t you think that it’s most
Nita. Someday you or I might be a witness to probably through your own carelessness? The
one. sense of possession is strong in every love.
NITA: Oh, not me! ADRIAN: Granted, in another generation…when
material things were few and expensive, one
GONZALO: Suppose we’re walking along the
could understand the fierce desire to possess
Escolta, and somebody sticks a knife into or and hold on to something.
shoots somebody? Shall we close our eyes and
pretend we didn’t see it? NITA: Gonzalo, you can’t confuse love with the
material.
NITA: That would be different. But I know I’ll be
careful not to be around when a crime takes GONZALO: I am not confusing them. True love isn’t
place. a material thing. It’s intangible, spiritual…
capable of touching the stars, reaching the
ADRIAN: What was last night’s case?
infinite…embracing God!
GONZALO: (Glancing at the paper) You know Mr.
NITA: Poetry, Gonzalo.
and Mrs. Tito Viterbo?
ADRIAN: No, Nita. Truth.
ADRIAN: The prominent attorney, isn’t he?
GONZALO: (Smiling) But not all marriages are born
NITA: Not the Viterbo married to Mila Revilla?
of love.
GONZALO: You know her? ADRIAN: Of what then?
NITA: Very well. Mila and I were classmates in the GONZALO: Of passion. And if it is passion in your
same convent school, the Annunciata. marriage, to lose the object of your passion,
GONZALO: A very religious woman, according to need not…should not…necessarily be tragic.
the paper. She never missed going to Quiapo ADRIAN: What would you have had Mr. Viterbo do,
church every Friday afternoon…you know, the then?
Nazarene.
GONZALO: Forgiven his wife…
NITA: She was the most religious girl in our class.
ADRIAN: But Mr. Viterbo’s wife was guilty of
GONZALO: The papers say she used to meet her
breaking…
lover in Quiapo church.
GONZALO: The fourth commandment.
NITA: Did anything happen to Mila?
NITA: The sixth, Gonzalo.
GONZALO: It seems Tito Viterbo’s best friend was
having an affair with Tito’s wife. GONZALO: (Laughing) Right. “Thou shalt not
commit adultery.” Ah, but I know the ninth:
NITA: I can’t believe it of Mila.
“Thou shalt not covet thy neighbor’s wife.”
ADRIAN: Mr. Viterbo killed his friend?
NITA: Splendid. Your memory is improving.
GONZALO: No, he killed his wife.
GONZALO: (As he pours himself another drink)
NITA: Poor Mila. There’s one word that has disappeared from the
vocabulary of the moderns.
H0045
NITA: What word? struck with terror, falls in a chair. Gonzalo takes
the pot, and, making it seem accidental, spills
GONZALO: The word “adultery”. The moderns
some coffee on Adrian’s clothes.) How stupid of
have such a revolting dread of such an ugly,
me!
repulsive, old-fashioned word that they have
substituted for it, “so-and-so is having an affair GONZALO: Go inside and wipe it off. (Adrian
with…or is in love with somebody else,” and stands up and walks toward the door. Nita tries
similar, charming, harmless phrases. But the to follow.)
word “adultery” itself they avoid and abhor. To
NITA: I’ll get you a clean towel.
the moderns, adultery doesn’t exist any more.
GONZALO: (Looking at her steadily) Adrian knows
NITA: Your narrow views surprise me, Gonzalo.
his way around. He’s like one of the family.
ADRIAN: Levity aside, if I had my way I’d have a There’s a clean towel in the bathroom. (Adrian
name for Mr. Viterbo’s wife and her lover. goes out. Nita springs up from the chair and
runs to Gonzalo.)
GONZALO: And that is?
NITA: What are you trying to do?
ADRIAN: I’d call them a couple of rats.
GONZALO: What are you talking about?
GONZALO: (Laughing uproariously) That’s
interesting, Adrian. Why, in heaven’s name? NITA: The cup, Gonzalo, the cup! (He looks at her,
without saying a word.) Throw it away, throw it
ADRIAN: Adultery is punishable by law, don’t you
away! (Gonzalo pushes her away, roughly.)
know?
GONZALO: Shut up, you bitch!
GONZALO: If I may be permitted to stretch the
point further, I’d prefer to call the three of them NITA: Don’t do it, don’t! (Gonzalo lights a cigarette,
rats. sits calmly.)
NITA: Why include the poor husband? GONZALO: So no one came this afternoon. Adrian
admitted he did.
GONZALO: For breaking the fifth commandment:
“Thou shalt not kill.” (They all break into NITA: No!
laughter. Gonzalo again takes the bottle.)
GONZALO: (Ignoring her interruptions) But he
Another, Adrian?
made one slight mistake: he said he had told
ADRIAN: If you don’t mind, I’d like some coffee. the maid he had come. But he doesn’t know
you dismissed her this morning.
NITA: Oh, I forgot to bring in new cups.
NITA: No!
GONZALO: (Stopping her as she is about to go)
Don’t bother… Here’s one. GONZALO: That’s why you dismissed Cora. She
knew and you were afraid she was going to talk.
NITA: But you used that cup before.
Adrian has been coming here every afternoon
ADRIAN: I don’t mind. for the last two weeks. I had my suspicions…
that’s why I went up to Baguio. I could have
NITA: (Staring at him, realizing it is the fatal cup)
come back in a day or two, but I wanted to give
Gonzalo, that cup!
you and Adrian the satisfaction of a last
ADRIAN: I don’t believe in germs, Nita. romantic, evil fling! (Nita throws herself on his
knees.)
NITA: (Alarmed) It isn’t that…
NITA: Gonzalo! Gonzalo!
GONZALO: Adrian is right, Nita. One cup is as
good. (Nita utters a muffled scream. Gonzalo GONZALO: Both of you pretending, deceiving, lying
goes to her and holds her arm firmly, cruelly. behind my back! (Nita breaks into sobs.)
Nita winces.) NITA: True, true! And I’m so ashamed!
ADRIAN: Is she ill? GONZALO: (Contemptuously) Ashamed? (Gently)
GONZALO: If you call expecting a baby… You know the meaning of the word?
NITA: No! (But Nita, still feeling the pressure of NITA: I don’t know why I did it, I don’t know!
Gonzalo’s hand on her, remains speechless.) GONZALO: Now you know, and it’s too late.
ADRIAN: Well, congratulations!
NITA: (Pleadingly) What are you going to do?
GONZALO: It’s too early to tell… She’ll be all right.
GONZALO: Destroy him.
Women insist on deluding themselves that they
can be the equal of men. When they are NITA: Adrian?
pregnant, they wake up from their trance. (Nita,
GONZALO: You’re quite psychic, beloved.
H0045
NITA: Let Adrian go! ADRIAN: She should go in and rest, don’t you
think?
GONZALO: Because my love for him is deeper,
him I must destroy. GONZALO: She will, presently.
NITA: But not this way…not this callous way! Give ADRIAN: (Taking the cup) This coffee is still hot.
him an even chance! (Nita wakes up from her trance and watches
Gonzalo’s actions. Adrian takes some sugar
GONZALO: For a rat like him?
and stirs it.)
NITA: If you must destroy, destroy me then! Spare
GONZALO: Still warm?
Adrian!
ADRIAN: Just right. (As he is about to drink it, Nita
GONZALO: (Softly) He means that much to you,
stands up.)
my dear?
NITA: Oh, Adrian, I’m sure it’s cold now…
NITA: No, no…not now…not anymore! But there
must be some pity left in you! ADRIAN: Don’t bother, Nita.
GONZALO: There is…a tiny bit…but my pity isn’t GONZALO: (To Nita) Stop being so fussy!
for Adrian. I’m reserving it for you.
NITA: Are you sure, Adrian?
NITA: Destroy me then…I’m just as guilty!
ADRIAN: Sure. (He gulps down the drink. Nita
GONZALO: No, Nita, I cannot destroy you. I’ll let covers her mouth with her hand. Frightened,
you live…but I’ll let you breathe, eat, and sleep she rushes out.)
every second of your cursed life…with that ugly
GONZALO: Poor Nita. Sometimes, Adrian, I think
word “adulteress” in your heart!
you’re better off as a bachelor.
NITA: I’d rather die! I’d rather be destroyed!
ADRIAN: Well, well! A while ago you were advising
GONZALO: You must live, my dearest Nita. Dying me to get married.
is so easy. And why die when there’s so much
GONZALO: You should, Adrian, you should.
ahead of you?
ADRIAN: I’m not prepared to settle down yet.
NITA: (Brokenly) There’s nothing…nothing ahead,
for me now. GONZALO: Aren’t you afraid to die a bachelor?
GONZALO: Your feelings are a matter of ADRIAN: (Laughing) I expect to live a little longer,
indifference to me. Soon you’re going to witness Gonzalo.
a crime. You’re going to see your beloved…and
GONZALO: A little longer is right. (Adrian’s face
my beloved friend, Adrian…die the death of a
rat. slowly begins to get red. He feels a giddiness in
his head, he presses his temples.)
NITA: I won’t stand it. I won’t! I won’t! I can’t!
ADRIAN: My head…
(Gonzalo stands up smiling.)
GONZALO: What’s wrong?
GONZALO: You’re going to stay here and not utter
a single word or make the least gesture. (His ADRIAN: Don’t know, my head…never felt like
tone dripping with venom) Even though you this…
aren’t a very intelligent woman I think you
understand my words. (Bending over) Come, GONZALO: Sit down. (Adrian sits on the sofa.)
my dear, allow me to take you to this chair. You You’ll feel better.
need, a rest. (Gonzalo forcibly raises Nita up. ADRIAN: (Touching his throat) My throat…can’t
She sinks, exhausted and terrified, into a chair. breathe…
Presently Adrian comes in.) Everything all right,
Adrian? GONZALO: An aspirin will do you good.
ADRIAN: It was nothing. It won’t show. ADRIAN: The coffee…could it be…
GONZALO: (Pouring) Take your coffee. GONZALO: (Picking up the cup and smelling it) No,
I don’t think so. Probably the effect of the
ADRIAN: Sorry. I must be getting along. whisky, eh Adrian?
GONZALO: Take your coffee first. ADRIAN: (Laughing dryly) Yes, first time, you know.
ADRIAN: (After a brief hesitation) All right. (Seeing GONZALO: By the way, will the two thousand and
Nita) She feeling worse? a half be enough? I could lend you more.
GONZALO: Nothing serious. ADRIAN: (Taking out the check from his pocket)
Thanks, Gonzalo. Always the wonderful friend.

H0045
GONZALO: Friendship is unto the grave… ADRIAN: (Terror in his voice) Now! …very
important…very… (Adrian begins to gasp and
ADRIAN: …And beyond it.
moan softly. Then silence.)
GONZALO: Yes, even beyond it.
GONZALO: I attach myself to nothing and to
ADRIAN: I sometimes…wonder…what I would nobody.
do…or where…I would be…without you,
(As Adrian continues moaning, Gonzalo lights a
Gonzalo.
cigarette. A long silence, then Adrian falls
GONZALO: (Affectionately) Aw, shut up, Baby noisily, upsetting the coffee table, breaking the
Face. cup and glasses. Simultaneously, we hear a
long, shrill, agonizing, terrifying scream
ADRIAN: You haven’t…called me…Baby Face
outside.)
since…our high school days… (Adrian’s eyes
start to protrude, they become staring and wide NITA: (Outside, unspeakable terror in her voice)
open, the pupils dilated and immobile.) Adrian! Adrian! Adrian! (Her words are followed
by heart-rending sobs which keep on till the
GONZALO: Lie down…you’re just tired. The light
final curtain. Gonzalo throws his cigarette away,
must be bothering you. (Gonzalo turns off all goes to Adrian, gets the check, tears it up.
the lights, leaving the scene in complete Slowly he goes to the telephone and dials.)
darkness, except for some light streaming
through the balcony from the street.) GONZALO: (Quietly and deliberately) Hello? Police
Department? If you care to come to 60 Banaba
GONZALO: Just rest, Adrian.
Street, Forbes Park, you’ll find three rats…
ADRIAN: No, no…I must…tell you…something… (Pause) Yes, yes, that’s what I just said…three
rats.
GONZALO: Not now. Tomorrow.
(As we hear Nita hysterically sobbing her heart out,
the curtain falls.)
Filipinos have also taken easily to the modern short story in English, like Paz Marquez Benitez’s
“Dead Stars” (1925), Jose Garcia Villa’s collection Footnote to Youth (1933), Arturo Rotor’s
“The Wound and the Scar” (1937), and Manuel Arguilla’s “How My Brother Leon Brought
Home a Wife” (1941) among others.
PAZ MARQUEZ-BENITEZ
Born in 1894 in Lucena, Quezon, Paz Marquez-Benitez wrote the first Filipino modern English-language
short story, “Dead Stars”, published in the Philippine Herald in 1925. She was among the first generation of
Filipinos trained in the American educational system which used English as the medium of instruction.
Graduating with a Bachelor of Arts degree in 1912 from the University of the Philippines, Marquez-Benitez
later became a teacher of short-story writing at U.P.
After “Dead Stars” she only had one more published short story, entitled “A Night in the Hills”. Two
years after graduation, she married fellow teacher Francisco Benitez. In 1919 she founded Woman’s Home
Journal, the first women’s magazine in the country and later became the editor of Filipino Love Stories, the
first anthology of Philippine short stories in English—compiled in 1928 from the works of her students.
When her husband died in 1951, she took over as editor of the Philippine Journal of Education at U.P.,
holding the editorial post for over two decades.
Dead Stars (short story) by Paz Marquez-Benitez
Part I crush—they lost concreteness, diffused into

formless melancholy. The tranquil murmur of
THROUGH the open window the air-steeped conversation issued from the brick-tiled azotea
outdoors passed into his room, quietly enveloping where Don Julian and Carmen were busy puttering
him, stealing into his very thought. Esperanza, Julia, away among the rose pots.
the sorry mess he had made of life, the years to
come even now beginning to weigh down, to “Papa, and when will the ‘long table’ be set?”
H0045
“I don’t know yet. Alfredo is not very specific, but future fullness of ecstasy to the craving for
I understand Esperanza wants it to be next month.” immediate excitement. Greed—mortgaging the
future—forcing the hand of Time, or of Fate.
Carmen sighed impatiently. “Why is he not a bit
more decided, I wonder. He is over thirty, is he not? “What do you think happened?” asked Carmen,
And still a bachelor! Esperanza must be tired pursuing her thought.
waiting.”
“I supposed long-engaged people are like that;
“She does not seem to be in much of a hurry warm now, cool tomorrow. I think they are oftener
either,” Don Julian nasally commented, while his cool than warm. The very fact that an engagement
rose scissors busily snipped away. has been allowed to prolong itself argues a certain
placidity of temperament—or of affection—on the
“How can a woman be in a hurry when the man part of either, or both.” Don Julian loved to
does not hurry her?” Carmen returned, pinching off philosophize. He was talking now with an evident
a worm with a careful, somewhat absent air. “Papa, relish in words, his resonant, very nasal voice toned
do you remember how much in love he was?” down to monologue pitch. “That phase you were
speaking of is natural enough for a beginning.
“In love? With whom?” Besides, that, as I see it, was Alfredo’s last race
with escaping youth.”
“With Esperanza, of course. He has not had
another love affair that I know of,” she said with Carmen laughed aloud at the thought of her
good-natured contempt. “What I mean is that at the brother’s perfect physical repose—almost
beginning he was enthusiastic—flowers, serenades, indolence—disturbed in the role suggested by her
notes, and things like that…” father’s figurative language.
Alfredo remembered that period with a wonder “A last spurt of hot blood,” finished the old man.
not unmixed with shame. That was less than four
years ago. He could not understand those months Few certainly would credit Alfredo Salazar with
of a great hunger that was not of the body nor yet of hot blood. Even his friends had amusedly
the mind, a craving that had seized on him one diagnosed his blood as cool and thin, citing
quiet night when the moon was abroad and under incontrovertible evidence. Tall and slender, he
the dappled shadow of the trees in the plaza, man moved with an indolent ease that verged on grace.
wooed maid. Was he being cheated by life? Love— Under straight recalcitrant hair, a thin face with a
he seemed to have missed it. Or was the love that satisfying breadth of forehead, slow, dreamer’s
others told about a mere fabrication of perfervid eyes, and astonishing freshness of lips—indeed
imagination, an exaggeration of the commonplace, Alfredo Salazar’s appearance betokened little of
a glorification of insipid monotonies such as made exuberant masculinity; rather a poet with wayward
up his love life? Was love a combination of humor, a fastidious artist with keen, clear brain.
circumstances, or sheer native capacity of soul? In
those days love was, for him, still the eternal puzzle; He rose and quietly went out of the house. He
for love, as he knew it, was a stranger to love as he lingered a moment on the stone steps; then went
divined it might be. down the path shaded by immature acacias,
through the little tarred gate which he left swinging
Sitting quietly in his room now, he could almost back and forth, now opening, now closing, on the
revive the restlessness of those days, the feeling of gravel road bordered along the farther side by
tumultuous haste, such as he knew so well in his madre de cacao hedge in tardy lavender bloom.
boyhood when something beautiful was going on
somewhere and he was trying to get there in time to The gravel road narrowed as it slanted up to the
see. “Hurry, hurry, or you will miss it,” someone had house on the hill, whose wide, open porches he
seemed to urge in his ears. So he had avidly seized could glimpse through the heat-shriveled tamarinds
on the shadow of Love and deluded himself for a in the Martinez yard.
long while in the way of humanity from time
immemorial. In the meantime, he became very Six weeks ago that house meant nothing to him
much engaged to Esperanza. save that it was the Martinez house, rented and
occupied by Judge del Valle and his family. Six
Why would men so mismanage their lives? weeks ago Julia Salas meant nothing to him; he did
Greed, he thought, was what ruined so many. not even know her name; but now…
Greed—the desire to crowd into a moment all the
enjoyment it will hold, to squeeze from the hour all One evening he had gone “neighboring” with
the emotion it will yield. Men commit themselves Don Julian; a rare enough occurrence, since he
when but half-meaning to do so, sacrificing possible made it a point to avoid all appearance of currying
H0045
favor with the judge. This particular evening irrelevantly if Miss Salas could sing; she had such a
however, he had allowed himself to be persuaded. charming speaking voice.
“A little mental relaxation now and then is
beneficial,” the old man had said. “Besides, a He was mildly surprised to note from her
judge’s good will, you know; the rest of the appearance that she was unmistakably a sister of
thought—is worth a rising young lawyer’s trouble,” the judge’s wife, although Doña Adela was of a
Don Julian conveyed through a shrug and a smile different type altogether. She was small and plump,
that derided his own worldly wisdom. with wide brown eyes, clearly defined eyebrows,
and delicately modeled hips—a pretty woman with
A young woman had met them at the door. It the complexion of a baby and the expression of a
was evident from the excitement of the judge’s likable cow. Julia was taller, not so obviously pretty.
children that she was a recent and very welcome She had the same eyebrows and lips, but she was
arrival. In the characteristic Filipino way, formal much darker, of a smooth rich brown with
introductions had been omitted—the judge limiting underlying tones of crimson which heightened the
himself to a casual “Ah, ya se conocen?”—with the impression she gave of abounding vitality.
consequence that Alfredo called her Miss del Valle
throughout the evening. On Sunday mornings after mass, father and son
would go crunching up the gravel road to the house
He was puzzled that she should smile with on the hill. The judge’s wife invariably offered them
evident delight every time he addressed her thus. beer, which Don Julian enjoyed and Alfredo did not.
Later Don Julian informed him that she was not the After a half hour or so, the chessboard would be
judge’s sister, as he had supposed, but his sister-in- brought out; then Alfredo and Julia Salas would go
law, and that her name was Julia Salas. A very out to the porch to chat. She sat in the low
dignified rather austere name, he thought. Still, the hammock and he in a rocking chair and the hours—
young lady should have corrected him. As it was, he warm, quiet March hours—sped by. He enjoyed
was greatly embarrassed, and felt that he should talking with her and it was evident that she liked his
explain. company; yet what feeling there was between them
was so undisturbed that it seemed a matter of
To his apology, she replied, “That is nothing, course. Only when Esperanza chanced to ask him
Each time I was about to correct you, but I indirectly about those visits did some uneasiness
remembered a similar experience I had once creep into his thoughts of the girl next door.
before.”
Esperanza had wanted to know if he went
“Oh,” he drawled out, vastly relieved. straight home after mass. Alfredo suddenly realized
that for several Sundays now he had not waited for
“A man named Manalang—I kept calling him Esperanza to come out of the church as he had
Manalo. After the tenth time or so, the young man been wont to do. He had been eager to go
rose from his seat and said suddenly, ‘Pardon me, “neighboring.”
but my name is Manalang, Manalang.’ You know, I
never forgave him!” He answered that he went home to work. And,
because he was not habitually untruthful, added,
He laughed with her. “Sometimes I go with Papa to Judge del Valle’s.”
“The best thing to do under the circumstances, I She dropped the topic. Esperanza was not prone
have found out,” she pursued, “is to pretend not to to indulge in unprovoked jealousies. She was a
hear, and to let the other person find out his mistake believer in the regenerative virtue of institutions, in
without help.” their power to regulate feeling as well as conduct. If
a man were married, why, of course, he loved his
“As you did this time. Still, you looked amused wife; if he were engaged, he could not possibly love
every time I…” another woman.
“I was thinking of Mr. Manalang.” That half-lie told him what he had not admitted
openly to himself, that he was giving Julia Salas
Don Julian and his uncommunicative friend, the something which he was not free to give. He
judge, were absorbed in a game of chess. The realized that; yet something that would not be
young man had tired of playing appreciative denied beckoned imperiously, and he followed on.
spectator and desultory conversationalist, so he and
Julia Salas had gone off to chat in the vine-covered It was so easy to forget up there, away from the
porch. The lone piano in the neighborhood prying eyes of the world, so easy and so poignantly
alternately tinkled and banged away as the player’s sweet. The beloved woman, he standing close to
moods altered. He listened, and wondered her, the shadows around, enfolding.
H0045
“Up here I find—something…” After the merienda, Don Julian sauntered off with
the judge to show him what a thriving young
He and Julia Salas stood looking out into the coconut looked like—”plenty of leaves, close set,
quiet night. Sensing unwanted intensity, laughed, rich green”—while the children, convoyed by Julia
woman-like, asking, “Amusement?” Salas, found unending entertainment in the rippling
sand left by the ebbing tide. They were far down,
“No; youth—its spirit…” walking at the edge of the water, indistinctly outlined
against the gray of the out-curving beach.
“Are you so old?”
Alfredo left his perch on the bamboo ladder of
“And heart’s desire.” the house and followed. Here were her footsteps,
narrow, arched. He laughed at himself for his black
Was he becoming a poet, or is there a poet canvas footwear which he removed forthwith and
lurking in the heart of every man? tossed high up on dry sand.
“Down there,” he had continued, his voice When he came up, she flushed, then smiled with
somewhat indistinct, “the road is too broad, too frank pleasure.
trodden by feet, too barren of mystery.”
“I hope you are enjoying this,” he said with a
“Down there” beyond the ancient tamarinds lay questioning inflection.
the road, upturned to the stars. In the darkness the
fireflies glimmered, while an errant breeze strayed “Very much. It looks like home to me, except that
in from somewhere, bringing elusive, faraway we do not have such a lovely beach.”
sounds as of voices in a dream.
There was a breeze from the water. It blew the
“Mystery—” she answered lightly, “that is so hair away from her forehead, and whipped the
brief.” tucked-up skirt around her straight, slender figure.
In the picture was something of eager freedom as of
“Not in some,” quickly. “Not in you.” wings poised in flight. The girl had grace,
distinction. Her face was not notably pretty; yet she
“You have known me a few weeks; so the had a tantalizing charm, all the more compelling
mystery.” because it was an inner quality, an achievement of
the spirit. The lure was there, of naturalness, of an
“I could study you all my life and still not find it.” alert vitality of mind and body, of a thoughtful, sunny
temper, and of a piquant perverseness which is
“So long?” sauce to charm.
“I should like to.” “The afternoon has seemed very short, hasn’t
it?” Then, “This, I think, is the last time—we can
Those six weeks were now so swift—seeming in visit.”
the memory, yet had they been so deep in the
living, so charged with compelling power and “The last? Why?”
sweetness. Because neither the past nor the future
had relevance or meaning, he lived only the “Oh, you will be too busy perhaps.”
present, day by day, lived it intensely, with such a
willful shutting out of fact as astounded him in his He noted an evasive quality in the answer.
calmer moments.
“Do I seem especially industrious to you?”
Just before Holy Week, Don Julian invited the
judge and his family to spend Sunday afternoon at “If you are, you never look it.”
Tanda where he had a coconut plantation and a
house on the beach. Carmen also came with her “Not perspiring or breathless, as a busy man
four energetic children. She and Doña Adela spent ought to be.”
most of the time indoors directing the preparation of
the merienda and discussing the likeable “But—”
absurdities of their husbands—how Carmen’s
Vicente was so absorbed in his farms that he would “Always unhurried, too unhurried, and calm.” She
not even take time off to accompany her on this visit smiled to herself.
to her father; how Doña Adela’s Dionisio was the
most absent-minded of men, sometimes going out “I wish that were true,” he said after a meditative
without his collar, or with unmatched socks. pause.
H0045
She waited. “There is where you will lose your way.” Then
she turned serious. “Now, that is not quite sincere.”
“A man is happier if he is, as you say, calm and
placid.” “It is,” he averred slowly, but emphatically.
“Like a carabao in a mud pool,” she retorted “I thought you, at least, would not say such
perversely. things.”
“Who? I?” “Pretty—pretty—a foolish word! But there is none

other more handy I did not mean that quite…”
“Oh, no!”
“Are you withdrawing the compliment?”
“You said I am calm and placid.”
“Re-enforcing it, maybe. Something is pretty
“That is what I think.” when it pleases the eye—it is more than that
when…”
“I used to think so too. Shows how little we know
ourselves.” “If it saddens?” she interrupted hastily.
It was strange to him that he could be wooing “Exactly.”

thus: with tone and look and covert phrase.
“It must be ugly.”
“I should like to see your home town.”
“Always?”
“There is nothing to see—little crooked streets,
bunut roofs with ferns growing on them, and Toward the west, the sunlight lay on the dimming
sometimes squashes.” waters in a broad, glinting streamer of crimsoned
gold.
That was the background. It made her seem less
detached, less unrelated, yet withal more distant, as “No, of course you are right.”
if that background claimed her and excluded him.
“Why did you say this is the last time?” he asked
“Nothing? There is you.” quietly as they turned back.
“Oh, me? But I am here.” “I am going home.”
“I will not go, of course, until you are there.” The end of an impossible dream!
“Will you come? You will find it dull. There isn’t “When?” after a long silence.
even one American there!”
“Tomorrow. I received a letter from Father and
“Well—Americans are rather essential to my Mother yesterday. They want me to spend Holy
entertainment.” Week at home.”
She laughed. She seemed to be waiting for him to speak.

“That is why I said this is the last time.”
“We live on Calle Luz, a little street with trees.”
“Can’t I come to say good-bye?”
“Could I find that?”
“Oh, you don’t need to!”
“If you don’t ask for Miss del Valle,” she smiled
teasingly. “No, but I want to.”
“I’ll inquire about…” “There is no time.”
“What?” The golden streamer was withdrawing,

shortening, until it looked no more than a pool far
“The house of the prettiest girl in the town.” away at the rim of the world. Stillness, a vibrant
quiet that affects the senses as does solemn
harmony; a peace that is not contentment but a
cessation of tumult when all violence of feeling
H0045
tones down to the wistful serenity of regret. She The sight of Esperanza and her mother sedately
turned and looked into his face, in her dark eyes a pacing behind Our Lady of Sorrows suddenly
ghost of sunset sadness. destroyed the illusion of continuity and broke up
those lines of light into component individuals.
“Home seems so far from here. This is almost Esperanza stiffened self-consciously, tried to look
like another life.” unaware, and could not.
“I know. This is elsewhere, and yet strange The line moved on.
enough, I cannot get rid of the old things.”
Suddenly, Alfredo’s slow blood began to beat
“Old things?” violently, irregularly. A girl was coming down the
line—a girl that was striking, and vividly alive, the
“Oh, old things, mistakes, encumbrances, old woman that could cause violent commotion in his
baggage.” He said it lightly, unwilling to mar the heart, yet had no place in the completed ordering of
hour. He walked close, his hand sometimes his life.
touching hers for one whirling second.
Her glance of abstracted devotion fell on him and
Don Julian’s nasal summons came to them on came to a brief stop.
the wind.
The line kept moving on, wending its circuitous
Alfredo gripped the soft hand so near his own. At route away from the church and then back again,
his touch, the girl turned her face away, but he where, according to the old proverb, all processions
heard her voice say very low, “Good-bye.” end.
Part II At last Our Lady of Sorrows entered the church,

and with her the priest and the choir, whose voices
ALFREDO Salazar turned to the right where, now echoed from the arched ceiling. The bells rang
farther on, the road broadened and entered the the close of the procession.
heart of the town—heart of Chinese stores
sheltered under low-hung roofs, of indolent drug A round orange moon, “huge as a winnowing
stores and tailor shops, of dingy shoe-repairing basket,” rose lazily into a clear sky, whitening the
establishments, and a cluttered goldsmith’s iron roofs and dimming the lanterns at the windows.
cubbyhole where a consumptive bent over a Along the still densely shadowed streets the young
magnifying lens; heart of old brick-roofed houses women with their rear guard of males loitered and,
with quaint hand-and-ball knockers on the door; maybe, took the longest way home.
heart of grass-grown plaza reposeful with trees, of
ancient church and convento, now circled by Toward the end of the row of Chinese stores, he
swallows gliding in flight as smooth and soft as the caught up with Julia Salas. The crowd had
afternoon itself. Into the quickly deepening twilight, dispersed into the side streets, leaving Calle Real to
the voice of the biggest of the church bells kept those who lived farther out. It was past eight, and
ringing its insistent summons. Flocking came the Esperanza would be expecting him in a little while:
devout with their long wax candles, young women in yet the thought did not hurry him as he said “Good
vivid apparel (for this was Holy Thursday and the evening” and fell into step with the girl.
Lord was still alive), older women in sober black
skirts. Came too the young men in droves, elbowing “I had been thinking all this time that you had
each other under the talisay tree near the church gone,” he said in a voice that was both excited and
door. The gaily decked rice-paper lanterns were troubled.
again on display while from the windows of the
older houses hung colored glass globes, heirlooms “No, my sister asked me to stay until they are
from a day when grass pith wicks floating in coconut ready to go.”
oil were the chief lighting device.
“Oh, is the judge going?”
Soon a double row of lights emerged from the
church and uncoiled down the length of the street “Yes.”
like a huge jeweled band studded with glittering
clusters where the saints’ platforms were. Above The provincial docket had been cleared, and
the measured music rose the untutored voices of Judge del Valle had been assigned elsewhere. As
the choir, steeped in incense and the acrid fumes of lawyer—and as lover—Alfredo had found that out
burning wax. long before.

H0045
“Mr. Salazar,” she broke into his silence, “I wish “Julita,” he said in his slow, thoughtful manner,
to congratulate you.” “did you ever have to choose between something
you wanted to do and something you had to do?”
Her tone told him that she had learned, at last.
That was inevitable. “No!”
“For what?” “I thought maybe you had had that experience;

then you could understand a man who was in such
“For your approaching wedding.” a situation.”
Some explanation was due her, surely. Yet what “You are fortunate,” he pursued when she did
could he say that would not offend? not answer.
“I should have offered congratulations long “Is—is this man sure of what he should do?”
before, but you know mere visitors are slow about
getting the news,” she continued. “I don’t know, Julita. Perhaps not. But there is a
point where a thing escapes us and rushes
He listened not so much to what she said as to downward of its own weight, dragging us along.
the nuances in her voice. He heard nothing to Then it is foolish to ask whether one will or will not,
enlighten him, except that she had reverted to the because it no longer depends on him.”
formal tones of early acquaintance. No revelation
there; simply the old voice—cool, almost detached “But then why—why…” her muffled voice came.
from personality, flexible and vibrant, suggesting “Oh, what do I know? That is his problem after all.”
potentialities of song.
“Doesn’t it—interest you?”
“Are weddings interesting to you?” he finally
brought out quietly “Why must it? I—I have to say good-bye, Mr.
Salazar; we are at the house.”
“When they are of friends, yes.”
Without lifting her eyes she quickly turned and
“Would you come if I asked you?” walked away.
“When is it going to be?” Had the final word been said? He wondered. It
had. Yet a feeble flutter of hope trembled in his
“May,” he replied briefly, after a long pause. mind though set against that hope were three years
of engagement, a very near wedding, perfect
“May is the month of happiness they say,” she understanding between the parents, his own
said, with what seemed to him a shade of irony. conscience, and Esperanza herself—Esperanza
waiting, Esperanza no longer young, Esperanza the
“They say,” slowly, indifferently. “Would you efficient, the literal-minded, the intensely acquisitive.
come?”
He looked attentively at her where she sat on the
“Why not?” sofa, appraisingly, and with a kind of aversion which
he tried to control.
“No reason. I am just asking. Then you will?”
She was one of those fortunate women who
“If you will ask me,” she said with disdain. have the gift of uniformly acceptable appearance.
She never surprised one with unexpected
“Then I ask you.” homeliness nor with startling reserves of beauty. At
home, in church, on the street, she was always
“Then I will be there.” herself, a woman past first bloom, light and clear of
complexion, spare of arms and of breast, with a
The gravel road lay before them; at the road’s slight convexity to thin throat; a woman dressed
end, the lighted windows of the house on the hill. with self-conscious care, even elegance; a woman
There swept over the spirit of Alfredo Salazar a distinctly not average.
longing so keen that it was pain, a wish that, that
house were his, that all the bewilderments of the She was pursuing an indignant relation about
present were not, and that this woman by his side something or other, something about Calixta, their
were his long-wedded wife, returning with him to the note-carrier, Alfredo perceived, so he merely half-
peace of home. listened, understanding imperfectly. At a pause he

H0045
drawled out to fill in the gap: “Well, what of it?” The Alfredo was suffering as he could not remember
remark sounded ruder than he had intended. ever having suffered before. What people will say—
what will they not say? What don’t they say when
“She is not married to him,” Esperanza insisted long engagements are broken almost on the eve of
in her thin, nervously pitched voice. “Besides, she the wedding?
should have thought of us. Nanay practically
brought her up. We never thought she would turn “Yes,” he said hesitatingly, diffidently, as if
out bad.” merely thinking aloud, “one tries to be
fair…according to his lights—but it is hard. One
What had Calixta done? Homely, middle-aged would like to be fair to one’s self first. But that is too
Calixta? easy, one does not dare…”
“You are very positive about her badness,” he “What do you mean?” she asked with repressed
commented dryly. Esperanza was always positive. violence. “Whatever my shortcomings, and no doubt
they are many in your eyes, I have never gone out
“But do you approve?” of my way, of my place, to find a man.”
“Of what?” Did she mean by this irrelevant remark that it

was he who had sought her; or was that a covert
“What she did.” attack on Julia Salas?
“No,” indifferently. “Esperanza…” a desperate plea lay in his

stumbling words. “If you—suppose I…” Yet how
“Well?” could a mere man word such a plea?
He was suddenly impelled by a desire to disturb “If you mean you want to take back your word, if
the unvexed orthodoxy of her mind. “All I say is that you are tired of…why don’t you tell me you are tired
it is not necessarily wicked.” of me?” she burst out in a storm of weeping that left
him completely shamed and unnerved.
“Why shouldn’t it be? You talked like an—
immoral man. I did not know that your ideas were The last word had been said.
like that.”
Part III
“My ideas?” he retorted, goaded by a deep,
accumulated exasperation. “The only test I wish to AS Alfredo Salazar leaned against the boat rail
apply to conduct is the test of fairness. Am I injuring to watch the evening settling over the lake, he
anybody? No? Then I am justified in my wondered if Esperanza would attribute any
conscience. I am right. Living with a man to whom significance to this trip of his. He was supposed to
she is not married—is that it? It may be wrong, and be in Sta. Cruz whither the case of the “People of
again it may not.” the Philippine Islands vs. Belina et al” had kept him,
and there he would have been if Brigida Samuy had
“She has injured us. She was ungrateful.” Her not been so important to the defense. He had to find
voice was tight with resentment. that elusive old woman. That the search was
leading him to that particular lake town which was
“The trouble with you, Esperanza, is that you Julia Salas’ home should not disturb him unduly.
are…” he stopped, appalled by the passion in his Yet he was disturbed to a degree utterly out of
voice. proportion to the prosaicalness of his errand. That
inner tumult was no surprise to him; in the last eight
“Why do you get angry? I do not understand you years he had become used to such occasional
at all! I think I know why you have been indifferent storms. He had long realized that he could not
to me lately. I am not blind, or deaf; I see and hear forget Julia Salas. Still, he had tried to be content
what perhaps some are trying to keep from me.” and not to remember too much. The climber of
The blood surged into his very eyes and his hearing mountains who has known the back-break, the
sharpened to points of acute pain. What would she lonesomeness, and the chill, finds a certain
say next? restfulness in level paths made easy to his feet. He
looks up sometimes from the valley where settles
“Why don’t you speak out frankly before it is too the dusk of evening, but he knows he must not
late? You need not think of me and of what people heed the radiant beckoning. Maybe, in time, he
will say.” Her voice trembled. would cease even to look up.

H0045
He was not unhappy in his marriage. He felt no San Antonio was up in the hills! Good man, the
rebellion: only the calm of capitulation to what he presidente! He, Alfredo, must do something for him.
recognized as irresistible forces of circumstance It was not every day that one met with such
and of character. His life had simply ordered itself; willingness to help.
no more struggles, no more stirring up of emotions
that got a man nowhere. From his capacity of Eight o’clock, lugubriously tolled from the bell
complete detachment he derived a strange solace. tower, found the boat settled into a somnolent quiet.
The essential himself—the himself that had its A cot had been brought out and spread for him, but
being in the core of his thought—would, he it was too bare to be inviting at that hour. It was too
reflected, always be free and alone. When claims early to sleep: he would walk around the town. His
encroached too insistently, as sometimes they did, heart beat faster as he picked his way to shore over
he retreated into the inner fastness, and from that the rafts made fast to sundry piles driven into the
vantage he saw things and people around him as water.
remote and alien, as incidents that did not matter.
At such times did Esperanza feel baffled and How peaceful the town was! Here and there a
helpless; he was gentle, even tender, but little tienda was still open, its dim light issuing
immeasurably far away, beyond her reach. forlornly through the single window which served as
counter. An occasional couple sauntered by, the
Lights were springing into life on the shore. That women’s chinelas making scraping sounds. From a
was the town, a little up-tilted town nestling in the distance came the shrill voices of children playing
dark greenness of the groves. A snub-crested belfry games on the street—tubigan perhaps, or “hawk-
stood beside the ancient church. On the outskirts and-chicken.” The thought of Julia Salas in that
the evening smudges glowed red through the quiet place filled him with a pitying sadness.
sinuous mists of smoke that rose and lost
themselves in the purple shadows of the hills. There How would life seem now if he had married Julia
was a young moon which grew slowly luminous as Salas? Had he meant anything to her? That
the coral tints in the sky yielded to the darker blues unforgettable red-and-gold afternoon in early April
of evening. haunted him with a sense of incompleteness as
restless as other unlaid ghosts. She had not
The vessel approached the landing quietly, married—why? Faithfulness, he reflected, was not a
trailing a wake of long golden ripples on the dark conscious effort at regretful memory. It was
water. Peculiar hill inflections came to his ears from something unvolitional, maybe a recurrent
the crowd assembled to meet the boat—slow, awareness of irreplaceability. Irrelevant trifles—a
singing cadences, characteristic of the Laguna lake- cool wind on his forehead, far-away sounds as of
shore speech. From where he stood he could not voices in a dream—at times moved him to an oddly
distinguish faces, so he had no way of knowing irresistible impulse to listen as to an insistent,
whether the presidente was there to meet him or unfinished prayer.
not. Just then a voice shouted.
A few inquiries led him to a certain little tree-
“Is the abogado there? Abogado!” ceilinged street where the young moon wove
indistinct filigrees of fight and shadow. In the
“What abogado?” someone irately asked. gardens the cotton tree threw its angular shadow
athwart the low stone wall; and in the cool, stilly
That must be the presidente, he thought, and midnight the cock’s first call rose in tall, soaring jets
went down to the landing. of sound. Calle Luz.
It was a policeman, a tall pock-marked individual. Somehow or other, he had known that he would
The presidente had left with Brigida Samuy— find her house because she would surely be sitting
Tandang “Binday”—that noon for Santa Cruz. Señor at the window. Where else, before bedtime on a
Salazar’s second letter had arrived late, but the wife moonlit night? The house was low and the light in
had read it and said, “Go and meet the abogado the sala behind her threw her head into
and invite him to our house.” unmistakable relief. He sensed rather than saw her
start of vivid surprise.
Alfredo Salazar courteously declined the
invitation. He would sleep on board since the boat “Good evening,” he said, raising his hat.
would leave at four the next morning anyway. So
the presidente had received his first letter? Alfredo “Good evening. Oh! Are you in town?”
did not know because that official had not sent an
answer. “Yes,” the policeman replied, “but he could “On some little business,” he answered with a
not write because we heard that Tandang Binday feeling of painful constraint.
was in San Antonio so we went there to find her.”
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“Won’t you come up?” emotionless. Did she still care? The answer to the
question hardly interested him.
He considered. His vague plans had not included
this. But Julia Salas had left the window, calling to The young moon had set, and from the uninviting
her mother as she did so. After a while, someone cot he could see one half of a star-studded sky.
came downstairs with a lighted candle to open the
door. At last—he was shaking her hand. So that was all over.
She had not changed much—a little less slender, Why had he obstinately clung to that dream?
not so eagerly alive, yet something had gone. He
missed it, sitting opposite her, looking thoughtfully So all these years—since when?—he had been
into her fine dark eyes. She asked him about the seeing the light of dead stars, long extinguished, yet
home town, about this and that, in a sober, seemingly still in their appointed places in the
somewhat meditative tone. He conversed with heavens.
increasing ease, though with a growing wonder that
he should be there at all. He could not take his eyes An immense sadness as of loss invaded his
from her face. What had she lost? Or was the loss spirit, a vast homesickness for some immutable
his? He felt an impersonal curiosity creeping into his refuge of the heart far away where faded gardens
gaze. The girl must have noticed, for her cheek bloom again, and where live on in unchanging
darkened in a blush. freshness, the dear, dead loves of vanished youth.
Gently—was it experimentally?—he pressed her

hand at parting; but his own felt undisturbed and
MANUEL ARGUILLA
Manuel Arguilla is known for his widely anthologized short story “How My Brother Leon Brought Home a
Wife”, which won first prize in the Commonwealth Literary Contest in 1940.
Most of Arguilla’s stories depict scenes in Barrio Nagrebcan, Bauang, La Union where he was born in
1911. His bond with his birthplace, forged by his dealings with the peasant folk of Ilocos, remained strong
even after he moved to Manila where he studied at the University of the Philippines, finishing an Education
degree in 1933. He became a member and later the president of the U.P. Writer’s Club and editor of the
university’s Literary Apprentice.
F. Sionil Jose, another seminal Filipino writer in English, recalls often seeing Arguilla in the National
Library, which was then in the basement of what is now the National Museum: “You couldn’t miss him”,
Jose describes Arguilla, “because he had this black patch on his cheek, a birthmark or an overgrown mole.
He was writing then those famous short stories and essays which I admired.”
In the 1936 short story contest sponsored by the Philippine Free Press magazine, Arguilla won first
place with his story entitled “Epilogue to Reconciliation”. He later became a creative writing teacher at the
University of Manila and worked at the Bureau of Public Welfare as managing editor of the bureau’s
publication, Welfare Advocate, until the outbreak of World War 2 in 1943.
An agent of the famous Marking’s Guerillas, Arguilla secretly organized a guerrilla intelligence unit
against the Japanese invaders during the war. While he held an important position on the Board of
Censors and in the Japanese propaganda network, he gave vital information and military secrets to the
Filipino guerillas. In 1944, he was captured, tortured, and executed by the Japanese army at Fort
Santiago.
How My Brother Leon Brought Home a Wife (short story)

by Manuel Arguilla
She stepped down from the carretela of Ca Celin “You are Baldo,” she said and placed her hand
with a quick, delicate grace. She was lovely. She lightly on my shoulder. Her nails were long, but they
was tall. She looked up to my brother with a smile, were not painted. She was fragrant like a morning
and her forehead was on a level with his mouth. when papayas are in bloom. And a small dimple
appeared momentarily high on her right cheek.
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“And this is Labang of whom I have heard so golden haze through which floated big purple and
much.” She held the wrist of one hand with the red and yellow bubbles when I looked at the sinking
other and looked at Labang, and Labang never sun. Labang’s white coat, which I had washed and
stopped chewing his cud. He swallowed and brushed that morning with coconut husk, glistened
brought up to his mouth more cud and the sound of like beaten cotton under the lamplight and his horns
his insides was like a drum. appeared tipped with fire.
I laid a hand on Labang’s massive neck and said He faced the sun and from his mouth came a call
to her: “You may scratch his forehead now.” so loud and vibrant that the earth seemed to
tremble underfoot. And far away in the middle of the
She hesitated and I saw that her eyes were on field a cow lowed softly in answer.
the long, curving horns. But she came and touched
Labang’s forehead with her long fingers, and “Hitch him to the cart, Baldo,” my brother Leon
Labang never stopped chewing his cud except that said, laughing, and she laughed with him a big
his big eyes half closed. And by and by she was uncertainly, and I saw that he had put his arm
scratching his forehead very daintily. around her shoulders.
My brother Leon put down the two trunks on the “Why does he make that sound?” she asked. “I
grassy side of the road. He paid Ca Celin twice the have never heard the likes of it.”
usual fare from the station to the edge of
Nagrebcan. Then he was standing beside us, and “There is not another like it,” my brother Leon
she turned to him eagerly. I watched Ca Celin, said. “I have yet to hear another bull call like
where he stood in front of his horse, and he ran his Labang. In all the world there is no other bull like
fingers through its forelock and could not keep his him.”
eyes away from her.
She was smiling at him, and I stopped in the act
“Maria—” my brother Leon said. of tying the sinta across Labang’s neck to the
opposite end of the yoke, because her teeth were
He did not say Maring. He did not say Mayang. I very white, her eyes were so full of laughter, and
knew then that he had always called her Maria and there was the small dimple high up on her right
that to us all she would be Maria; and in my mind I cheek.
said “Maria” and it was a beautiful name.
“If you continue to talk about him like that, either
“Yes, Noel.” I shall fall in love with him or become greatly
jealous.”
Now where did she get that name? I pondered
the matter quietly to myself, thinking Father might My brother Leon laughed and she laughed and
not like it. But it was only the name of my brother they looked at each other and it seemed to me
Leon said backward and it sounded much better there was a world of laughter between them and in
that way. them.
“There is Nagrebcan, Maria,” my brother Leon I climbed into the cart over the wheel and
said, gesturing widely toward the west. Labang would have bolted, for he was always like
that, but I kept a firm hold on his rope. He was
She moved close to him and slipped her arm restless and would not stand still, so that my brother
through his. And after a while she said quietly. Leon had to say “Labang” several times. When he
was quiet again, my brother Leon lifted the trunks
“You love Nagrebcan, don’t you, Noel?” into the cart, placing the smaller on top.
Ca Celin drove away hi-yi-ing to his horse loudly. She looked down once at her high-heeled shoes,
At the bend of the camino real where the big duhat then she gave her left hand to my brother Leon,
tree grew, he rattled the handle of his braided rattan placed a foot on the hub of the wheel, and in one
whip against the spokes of the wheel. breath she had swung up into the cart. Oh, the
fragrance of her. But Labang was fairly dancing with
We stood alone on the roadside. impatience and it was all I could do to keep him
from running away.
The sun was in our eyes, for it was dipping into
the bright sea. The sky was wide and deep and very “Give me the rope, Baldo,” my brother Leon said.
blue above us: but along the saw-tooth rim of the “Maria, sit down on the hay and hold on to
Katayaghan hills to the southwest flamed huge anything.” Then he put a foot on the left shaft and
masses of clouds. Before us the fields swam in a that instant Labang leaped forward. My brother
H0045
Leon laughed as he drew himself up to the top of should do that, now?” He laughed and added,
the side of the cart and made the slack of the rope “Have you ever seen so many stars before?”
hiss above the back of Labang. The wind whistled
against my cheeks and the rattling of the wheels on I looked back and they were sitting side by side,
the pebbly road echoed in my ears. leaning against the trunks, hands clasped across
knees. Seemingly, but a man’s height above the
She sat up straight on the bottom of the cart, tops of the steep banks of the Waig, hung the stars.
legs bent together to one side, her skirts spread But in the deep gorge the shadows had fallen
over them so that only the toes and heels of her heavily, and even the white of Labang’s coat was
shoes were visible. Her eyes were on my brother merely a dim, grayish blur. Crickets chirped from
Leon’s back; I saw the wind on her hair. When their homes in the cracks in the banks. The thick,
Labang slowed down, my brother Leon handed to unpleasant smell of dangla bushes and cooling sun-
me the rope. I knelt on the straw inside the cart and heated earth mingled with the clean, sharp scent of
pulled on the rope until Labang was merely shuffling arrais roots exposed to the night air and of the hay
along, then I made him turn around. inside the cart.
“What is it you have forgotten now, Baldo?” my “Look, Noel, yonder is our star!” Deep surprise
brother Leon said. and gladness were in her voice. Very low in the
west, almost touching the ragged edge of the bank,
I did not say anything but tickled with my fingers was the star, the biggest and brightest in the sky.
the rump of Labang; and away we went—back to
where I had unhitched and waited for them. The sun “I have been looking at it,” my brother Leon said.
had sunk and down from the wooded sides of the “Do you remember how I would tell you that when
Katayaghan hills shadows were stealing into the you want to see stars you must come to
fields. High up overhead the sky burned with many Nagrebcan?”
slow fires.
“Yes, Noel,” she said. “Look at it,” she
When I sent Labang down the deep cut that murmured, half to herself. “It is so many times
would take us to the dry bed of the Waig which bigger and brighter than it was at Ermita beach.”
could be used as a path to our place during the dry
season, my brother Leon laid a hand on my “The air here is clean, free of dust and smoke.”
shoulder and said sternly:
“So it is, Noel,” she said, drawing a long breath.
“Who told you to drive through the fields
tonight?” “Making fun of me, Maria?”
His hand was heavy on my shoulder, but I did She laughed then and they laughed together and
not look at him or utter a word until we were on the she took my brother Leon’s hand and put it against
rocky bottom of the Waig. her face.
“Baldo, you fool, answer me before I lay the rope I stopped Labang, climbed down, and lighted the
of Labang on you. Why do you follow the Waig lantern that hung from the cart between the wheels.
instead of the camino real?”
“Good boy, Baldo,” my brother Leon said as I
His fingers bit into my shoulder. climbed back into the cart, and my heart sank.
“Father, he told me to follow the Waig tonight, Now the shadows took fright and did not crowd
Manong.” so near. Clumps of andadasi and arrais flashed into
view and quickly disappeared as we passed by.
Swiftly, his hand fell away from my shoulder and Ahead, the elongated shadow of Labang bobbled
he reached for the rope of Labang. Then my brother up and down and swayed drunkenly from side to
Leon laughed, and he sat back, and laughing still, side, for the lantern rocked jerkily with the cart.
he said:
“Have we far to go yet, Noel?” she asked.
“And I suppose Father also told you to hitch
Labang to the cart and meet us with him instead of “Ask Baldo,” my brother Leon said, “we have
with Castano and the calesa.” been neglecting him.”
Without waiting for me to answer, he turned to “I am asking you, Baldo,” she said.
her and said, “Maria, why do you think Father

H0045
Without looking back, I answered, picking my “Does that worry you still, Maria?” my brother
words slowly: Leon said. “From the way you talk, he might be an
ogre, for all the world. Except when his leg that was
“Soon we will get out of the Waig and pass into wounded in the Revolution is troubling him, Father
the fields. After the fields is home, Manong.” is the mildest-tempered, gentlest man I know.”
“So near already.” We came to the house of Lacay Julian and I

spoke to Labang loudly, but Moning did not come to
I did not say anything more because I did not the window, so I surmised she must be eating with
know what to make of the tone of her voice as she the rest of her family. And I thought of the food
said her last words. All the laughter seemed to have being made ready at home and my mouth watered.
gone out of her. I waited for my brother Leon to say We met the twins, Urong and Celin, and I said
something, but he was not saying anything. “Hoy!” calling them by name. And they shouted
Suddenly he broke out into song and the song was back and asked if my brother Leon and his wife
“Sky Sown with Stars”—the same that he and were with me. And my brother Leon shouted to
Father sang when we cut hay in the fields at night them and then told me to make Labang run; their
before he went away to study. He must have taught answers were lost in the noise of the wheels.
her the song because she joined him, and her voice
flowed into his like a gentle stream meeting a I stopped Labang on the road before our house
stronger one. And each time the wheels and would have gotten down but my brother Leon
encountered a big rock, her voice would catch in took the rope and told me to stay in the cart. He
her throat, but my brother Leon would sing on, until, turned Labang into the open gate and we dashed
laughing softly, she would join him again. into our yard. I thought we would crash into the
camachile tree, but my brother Leon reined in
Then we were climbing out into the fields, and Labang in time. There was light downstairs in the
through the spokes of the wheels the light of the kitchen, and Mother stood in the doorway, and I
lantern mocked the shadows. Labang quickened his could see her smiling shyly. My brother Leon was
steps. The jolting became more frequent and painful helping Maria over the wheel. The first words that
as we crossed the low dikes. fell from his lips after he had kissed Mother’s hand
were:
“But it is so very wide here,” she said. The light
of the stars broke and scattered the darkness so “Father…where is he?”
that one could see far on every side, though
indistinctly. “He is in his room upstairs,” Mother said, her
face becoming serious. “His leg is bothering him
“You miss the houses, and the cars, and the again.”
people and the noise, don’t you?” My brother Leon
stopped singing. I did not hear anything more because I had to go
back to the cart to unhitch Labang. But I hardly tied
“Yes, but in a different way. I am glad they are him under the barn when I heard Father calling me.
not here.” I met my brother Leon going to bring up the trunks.
As I passed through the kitchen, there were Mother
With difficulty I turned Labang to the left, for he and my sister Aurelia and Maria and it seemed to
wanted to go straight on. He was breathing hard, me they were crying, all of them.
but I knew he was more thirsty than tired. In a little
while we drove up the grassy side onto the camino There was no light in Father’s room. There was
real. no movement. He sat in the big armchair by the
western window, and a star shone directly through
“You see,” my brother Leon was explaining, “the it. He was smoking, but he removed the roll of
camino real curves around the foot of the tobacco from his mouth when he saw me. He laid it
Katayaghan hills and passes by our house. We carefully on the window sill before speaking.
drove through the fields because…but I’ll be asking
Father as soon as we get home.” “Did you meet anybody on the way?” he asked.
“Noel,” she said. “No, Father,” I said. “Nobody passes through the
Waig at night.”
“Yes, Maria.”
He reached for his roll of tobacco and hitched
“I am afraid. He may not like me.” himself up in the chair.
“She is very beautiful, Father.”

H0045
“Was she afraid of Labang?” My father had not tobacco on the window sill once more. I watched
raised his voice, but the room seemed to resound the smoke waver faintly upward from the lighted
with it. And again I saw her eyes on the long curving end and vanish slowly into the night outside.
horns and the arm of my brother Leon around her
shoulders. The door opened and my brother Leon and
Maria came in.
“No, Father, she was not afraid.”
“Have you watered Labang?” Father spoke to
“On the way?” me.
“She looked at the stars, Father. And Manong I told him that Labang was resting yet under the
Leon sang.” barn.
“What did he sing?” “It is time you watered him, my son,” my father
said.
“‘Sky Sown with Stars’…She sang with him.”
I looked at Maria and she was lovely. She was
He was silent again. I could hear the low voices tall. Beside my brother Leon, she was tall and very
of Mother and my sister Aurelia downstairs. There still. Then I went out, and in the darkened hall the
was also the voice of my brother Leon, and I fragrance of her was like a morning when papayas
thought that Father’s voice must have been like it are in bloom.
when Father was young. He had laid the roll of
As for novels, there were Zoilo Galang’s A Child of Sorrow (1921)—the first Filipino novel in
English, N.V.M. Gonzalez’s Winds of April (1940), and Juan Laya’s His Native Soil (1941).
As for poetry in the English language, there were Jose Garcia Villa’s Many Voices (1939) and
Poems of Doveglion (1941), Angela Manalang Gloria’s Poems (1940), and Carlos Bulosan’s
Letter from America (1942) among many other compilations.
In 1940, the first Commonwealth Literary Awards were given by Pres. Manuel L. Quezon which
included Salvador P. Lopez’s essay “Literature and Society” and R. Zulueta da Costa’s poem
“Like the Molave”.
JOSE GARCIA VILLA
A poet, literary critic, short story writer, and painter, Jose Garcia Villa was born in 1908 in Manila’s
Singalong district. After graduating from the University of the Philippines High School, he enrolled on a pre-
medicine course in U.P., but then switched to pre-law. However, Villa realized that his true passion was in
the arts. He first tried painting, but then turned into short-story writing and poetry.
Considered the leader of Filipino “artsakists”—a group of writers who believe that art should be “for art’s
sake”—he once said that “art is never a means; it is an end in itself”. Villa’s poetic style was considered too
aggressive at that time so that when he published Man Songs, a series of erotic poems in 1929, he was
fined P70 for obscenity by the Manila Court of First Instance. In that same year, however, Villa won the
Best Story of the Year from the Philippine Free Press magazine for his “Mir-I-Nisa” and edited/published
Philippine Short Stories: Best 25 Short Stories of 1928—an anthology of Filipino short stories written in
English. It is the second anthology to have been published in the country after Paz Marquez-Benitez’s
Filipino Love Stories.
Villa used the penname “Doveglion” (derived from “dove, eagle, lion”), based on the characters he
derived from himself. These animals were also explored by the American poet e.e. cummings in his
“Doveglion, Adventures in Value”, a poem dedicated to Villa. Villa is known to have introduced the
“reversed consonance rhyme scheme” in writing poetry, as well as the extensive use of punctuation
marks—especially commas placed after every word—which made him known as the “Comma Poet”. He
was awarded the Philippine National Artist for Literature in 1973, as well as the Guggenheim Fellowship in
creative writing in the United States.

H0045
Poems by Jose Garcia Villa:

And If the Heart Can Not Love
And if the heart can not love and music and speech leave
death can not cure it nor sleep it unbewitched
no splendor of wound the heart
had no sound God it can not spell nor sun
nor lover the beautiful word
Bloom has escaped it and and it has no sound no sound
birth the miraculous flower nor wound
First, A Poem Must Be Magical
First, a poem must be magical, And it must kneel like a rose.

Then musical as a seagull. It must be able to hear
It must be a brightness moving The luminance of dove and deer.
And hold secret a bird’s flowering It must be able to hide
It must be slender as a bell, What it seeks, like a bride.
And it must hold fire as well. And over all I would like to hover
It must have the wisdom of bows God, smiling from the poem’s cover.
Poem Written Beneath a Blue Lampshade
I speak this poem tenderly And also

It being for you We were rivers, we were moonlight
And And also we were winds
For you only—We were not As also
Afraid and we did take love We were gods. And all this
Gorgeously. Is remembrance, and all this
We had no fears. Is desire.
We knew love we knew it and But also it is love.
We were dancers for it
Fragment
Anchored Angel Anchored,entire,angel!

And,lay,he,down,the,golden,father, He,in,his,estate,miracle,and,living,dew,
(Genesis’,fist,all,gentle,now). His,fuses,gold,his,cobalts,love,
between,the,Wall,of,China,and, And,in,his,eyepits,
The,tiger,tree(his,centuries,his, O,under,the,liontelling,sun—
Aerials,of,light)… The,zeta,truth—the,swift,red,Christ.
CARLOS BULOSAN
Born to Ilocano parents in Pangasinan in 1911, Carlos Bulosan was a Filipino-American novelist and
poet best-known for the semi-autobiographical novel America Is in the Heart. Most of his youth was spent
in the countryside as a farmer. Like many Filipinos during that time, he migrated to the United States in the
1930s at the age of 17, in the hopes of finding greener pastures. Bulosan never saw his homeland again.
No sooner had he arrived in the U.S., was he met with the hostility of racism, forcing him to work in low-
paying jobs. Bulosan worked as a farm worker, harvesting fruits in the fields of California. He also worked
as a dishwasher in the famous Madonna Inn. Thus, he later became active in labor politics and edited the
1952 Yearbook for ILWU Local 37 (International Longshore and Warehouse Union), a predominantly
Filipino-American cannery union based in Seattle. As a progressive writer of labor struggles, he was
blacklisted by the U.S. Federal Bureau of Investigation (FBI) due to his labor-organizing and socialist
leanings. Denied a means to provide for himself, Bulosan’s later years were of hardship and poverty.
After many years of racial discrimination, starvation, and sickness, Bulosan had to undergo surgery for
tuberculosis in Los Angeles. The operation made him lose most of the right side of his ribs and the function

H0045
of one lung. He was confined in the hospital for two years where he took advantage and read one book per
day, making him a prolific writer and poet of Filipino struggles abroad.
His other novels include The Laughter of My Father, which were originally published as short sketches,
and the posthumously published The Cry and the Dedication, which detailed the armed Huk Rebellion in
the Philippines. One of his most famous essays was “Freedom from Want”, commissioned by U.S.
president Franklin D. Roosevelt as part of a series on the Four Freedoms in America, and was published in
1943 in the Saturday Evening Post newspaper.
Freedom from Want (essay) by Carlos Bulosan
If you want to know what we are, look upon the We do not take democracy for granted. We feel it
farms or upon the hard pavements of the city. You grow in our working together—many millions of us
usually see us working or waiting for work, and you working toward a common purpose. If it took us
think you know us, but our outward guise is more several decades of sacrifice to arrive at this faith, it
deceptive than our history. is because it took us that long to know what part of
America is ours.
Our history has many strands of fear and hope
that snarl and converge at several points in time Our faith has been shaken many times, and now
and space. We clear the forest and the mountains it is put to question. Our faith is a living thing, and it
of the land. We cross the river and the wind. We can be crippled or chained. It can be killed by
harness wild beast and living steel. We celebrate denying us enough food or clothing, by blasting
labor, wisdom, peace of the soul. away our personalities and keeping us in constant
fear. Unless we are properly prepared, the powers
When our crops are burned or plowed under, we of darkness will have good reason to catch us
are angry and confused. Sometimes we ask if this is unaware and trample our lives.
the real America. Sometimes we watch our long
shadows and doubt the future. But we have learned The totalitarian nations hate democracy. They
to emulate our ideals from these trials. We know hate us, because we ask for a definite guaranty of
there were men who came and stayed to build freedom of religion, freedom of expresson and
America. We know they came because there is freedom from fear and want. Our challenge to
something in America that they needed, and which tyranny is the depth of our faith in a democracy
needed them. worth defending, although they spread lies about
us, the way of life we cherish is not dead. The
We march on, though sometimes strange moods American dream is only hidden away, and it will
fill our children. Our march toward security and push its way up and grow again.
peace is the march of freedom—the freedom that
we should like to become a living part of. It is the We have moved down the years steadily toward
dignity of the individual to live in a society of free the practice of democracy. We become animate in
men, where the spirit of understanding and belief the growth of Kansas wheat or in the ring of
exists; of understanding that all men, whatever their Mississippi rain. We tremble in the strong winds of
color, race, religion or estate, should be given equal the Great Lakes. We cut timbers in Oregon just as
opportunity to serve themselves and each other the wild flowers blossom in Maine. We are
according to their needs and abilities. multitudes in Pennsylvania mines, in Alaskan
canneries. We are millions from Puget Sound to
But we are not really free unless we use what we Florida. In violent factories, crowded tenements,
produce. So long as the fruit of our labor is denied teeming cities. Our numbers increase as the war
us, so long will want manifest itself in a world of revolves into years and increases hunger, disease,
slaves. death and fear.
It is only when we have plenty to eat—plenty of But sometimes we wonder if we are really a part
everything— that we begin to understand what of America. We recognize the main springs of
freedom means. To us, freedom is not an intangible American democracy in our right to form unions and
thing. When we have enough to eat, then we are bargain through them collectively, our opportunity to
healthy enough to enjoy what we eat. Then we have sell our products at reasonable prices, and the
the time and ability to read and think and discuss privilege of our children to attend schools where
things. Then we are not merely living but also they learn the truth about the world in which they
becoming a creative part of life. It is only then that live. We also recognize the forces which have been
we become a growing part of democracy. trying to falsify American history—the forces which
drive away many Americans to a corner of
H0045
compromise with those who would distort the ideals divide into separate groups and our methods
of men that died for freedom. conflict, though we all aim at one common goal. The
significant thing is that we march on without turning
Sometimes we walk across the land looking for back. What we want is peace not violence. We
something to hold on to. We cannot believe that the know that we thrive and prosper only in peace.
resources of this country are exhausted. Even when
we see our children suffer humiliations, we cannot We are bleeding where clubs are smashing
believe that America has no more place for us. We heads, where bayonets are gleaming. We are
realize that what is wrong is not in our system of fighting where the bullet is crashing upon armorless
government, but in the ideals which were blasted citizens, where the tear gas is choking unprotected
away by a materialistic age. We know that we can children. Under the lynch trees, amidst hysterical
truly find and identify ourselves with a living tradition mobs. Where the prisoner is beaten to confess a
if we walk proudly in familiar streets. It is a great crime he did not commit. Where the honest man is
honor to walk on the American earth. hanged because he told the truth.
If you want to know what we are, look at the men We are the sufferers who suffer for natural love
reading books, searching in the dark pages of of man for another man, who commemorate the
history for the lost word, the key to the mystery of humanities of every man. We are the creators of
the living peace. We are factory hands, field hands, abundance.
mill hands, searching, building and molding
structures. We are doctors, scientists, chemists We are the desires of anonymous men. We are
discovering and eliminating disease, hunger and the subways of suffering, the well of indignities. We
antagonism. We are soldiers, Navy men, citizens, are the living testament of a flowering race.
guarding the imperishable dreams of our fathers to
live in freedom. We are the living dream of dead But our march to freedom is not complete unless
men. We are the living spirit of free men. want is annihilated. The America we hope to see is
not merely a physical but also a spiritual and
Everywhere we are on the march, passing intellectual world. We are the mirror of what
through darkness into a sphere of economic peace. America is. If America wants us to be living and
When we have the freedom to think and discuss free, then we must be living and free. If we fail, then
things without fear, when peace and security are America fails.
assured, when the futures of our children are
ensured—then we have resurrected and cultivated What do we want? We want complete security
the early beginnings of democracy. And America and peace. We want to share the promise and fruits
lives and becomes a growing part of our aspirations of American life. We want to be free from fear and
again. hunger.
We have been marching for the last one hundred If you want to know what we are—We are
and fifty years. We sacrifice our individual liberties, Marching!
and sometimes we fail and suffer. Sometimes we
My Father Goes to Court by Carlos Bulosan

(short story published in The New Yorker, 1943)
When I was four, I lived with my mother and Now, this rich man’s servants were always frying
brothers and sisters in a small town on the island of and cooking something good, and the aroma of the
Luzon. Father’s farm had been destroyed in 1918 food wafted down to us from the windows of the big
by one of the sudden Philippine floods, so for house. We hung about and took all the wonderful
several years afterwards we all lived in the town, smell of the food into our beings. Sometimes, in the
though he preferred living in the country. We had as morning, our whole family stood outside the
a next door neighbor a very rich man, whose sons windows of the rich man’s house and listened to the
and daughters seldom came out of the house. musical sizzling of thick strips of bacon or ham. I
While we boys and girls played and sang in the sun, can remember one afternoon when our neighbor’s
his children stayed inside and kept the windows servants roasted three chickens. The chickens were
closed. His house was so tall that his children could young and tender and the fat that dripped into the
look into the windows of our house and watch us as burning coals gave off an enchanting odor. We
we played, slept, or ate—when there was any food watched the servants turn the beautiful birds and
in the house to eat. inhaled the heavenly spirit that drifted out to us.

H0045
Some days the rich man appeared at a window “What is it, then?” Father asked.
and glowered down at us. He looked at us one by
one, as though he were condemning us. We were Suddenly my sister opened her blouse and a bull
all healthy because we went out in the sun frog jumped out. Mother fainted, Father dropped the
everyday and bathed in the cool waters of the river lamp, the oil spilled on the floor, and my sister’s
that flowed from the mountains into the sea. blanket caught fire. One of my brothers laughed so
Sometimes we wrestled with one another in the hard he rolled on the floor.
house before we went out to play. We were always
in the best spirits and our laughter was contagious. When the fire was extinguished and Mother was
Other neighbors who passed by our house often revived, we returned to bed and tried to sleep, but
stopped in our yard and joined us in laughter. Father kept on laughing so loud we could not sleep
any more. Mother got up again and lighted the oil
Laughter was our only wealth. Father was a lamp; we rolled up the mats on the floor and began
laughing man. He would go into the living room and dancing about and laughing with all our might. We
stand in front of the tall mirror, stretching his mouth made so much noise that all our neighbors except
into grotesque shapes with his fingers and making the rich family came into the yard and joined us in
faces at himself; then he would rush into the loud, genuine laughter.
kitchen, roaring with laughter.
It was like that for years.
There was always plenty to make us laugh.
There was, for instance, the day one of my brothers As time went on, the rich man’s children became
came home with a small bundle under his arm, thin and anemic, while we grew even more robust
pretending that he brought something good to eat— and full of life. Our faces were bright and rosy, but
maybe a leg of lamb or something as extravagant theirs were pale and sad. The rich man started to
as that, to make our mouths water. He rushed to cough at night; then he coughed day and night. His
Mother and threw the bundle into her lap. We all wife began coughing too. Then the children started
stood around, watching Mother undo the to cough, one after the other. At night, their
complicated strings. Suddenly a black cat leaped coughing sounded like the barking of a herd of
out of the bundle and ran wildly around the house. seals. We hung outside their windows and listened
Mother chased my brother and beat him with her to them. We wondered what had happened. We
little fists, while the rest of us bent double, choking knew that they were not sick from lack of nourishing
with laughter. food, because they were still always frying
something delicious to eat.
Another time one of my sisters suddenly started
screaming in the middle of the night. Mother One day the rich man appeared at a window and
reached her first and tried to calm her. My sister stood there a long time. He looked at my sisters,
cried and groaned. When Father lighted the lamp, who had grown fat with laughing, then at my
my sister stared at us with shame in her eyes. brothers, whose arms and legs were like the
molave, which is the sturdiest tree in the
“What is it?” Mother asked. Philippines. He banged down the window and ran
through his house shutting all the windows.
“I’m pregnant!” she cried.
From that day on, the windows of our neighbor’s
“Don’t be a fool!” Father shouted. house were always closed. The children did not
come outdoors any more. We could still hear the
“You are only a child,” Mother said. servants cooking in the kitchen and, no matter how
tight the windows were shut, the aroma of the food
“I’m pregnant, I tell you!” she cried. came to us in the wind and drifted gratuitously into
our house.
Father knelt by my sister. He put his hand on her
belly and rubbed it gently. “How do you know you One morning a policeman from the presidencia
are pregnant?” he asked. came to our house with a sealed paper. The rich
man had filed a complaint against us. Father took
“Feel it!” my sister cried. me with him when he went to the town clerk and
asked him what it was about. He told Father the
We put our hands on her belly. There was man claimed that for years we had been stealing
something moving inside. Father was frightened. the spirit of his wealth and food.
Mother was shocked. “Who’s the man?” she asked.
When the day came for us to appear in court,
“There’s no man.” My sister said. Father brushed his old Army uniform and borrowed
a pair of shoes from one of my brothers. We were
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the first to arrive. Father sat on a chair in the center Father could not say anything at first. He just
of the courtroom. Mother occupied a chair by the stood by his chair and looked at them. Finally he
door. We children sat on a long bench by the wall. said, “I should like to cross-examine the
Father kept jumping from his chair and stabbing the complainant.”
air with his arms as though he were defending
himself before an imaginary jury. “Proceed.”
The rich man arrived. He had grown old and “Do you claim that we ‘stole’ the spirit of your
feeble—his face was scarred with deep lines. With wealth and became a laughing family while yours
him was his young lawyer. Spectators came in and became morose and sad?” Father asked.
almost filled the chairs. The judge entered the room
and sat on a high chair. We stood up in a hurry and “Yes.”
then sat down again.
“Do you claim that we ‘stole’ the spirit of your
After the courtroom preliminaries, the judge food by hanging outside your windows when your
looked at Father: “Do you have a lawyer?” he servants cooked it?” Father asked.
asked.
“Yes.”
“I don’t need any lawyer, Judge,” he said.
“Then we are going to ‘pay’ you right now,”
“Proceed,” said the judge. Father said. He walked over to where we children
were sitting on the bench and took my straw hat off
The rich man’s lawyer jumped up and pointed his my lap and began filling it up with centavo pieces
finger at Father. that he took out of his pockets. He went to Mother,
who added a fistful of silver coins. My brothers
“Do you or do you not agree that you have been threw in their small change.
stealing the spirit of the complainant’s wealth and
food?” “May I walk to the room across the hall and stay
there for a few minutes, Judge?” Father asked.
“I do not!” Father said.
“As you wish.”
“Do you or do you not agree that while the
complainant’s servants cooked and fried fat legs of “Thank you,” Father said. He strode into the
lamb or young chicken breasts, you and your family other room with the hat and his hands. It was
hung outside his windows and inhaled the heavenly almost full of coins. The doors of both rooms were
spirit of the food?” wide open.
“I agree,” Father said. “Are you ready?” Father called.
“Do you or do you not agree that while the “Proceed,” the judge said.
complainant and his children grew sickly and
tubercular, you and your family became strong of The sweet tinkle of the coins, carried beautifully
limb and fair in complexion?” into the courtroom. The spectators turned their
faces toward the sound with wonder. Father came
“I agree,” Father said. back and stood before the complainant.
“How do you account for that?” “Did you hear it?” he asked.
Father got up and paced around, scratching his “Hear what?” the man asked.
head thoughtfully. Then he said, “I would like to see
the children of the complainant, Judge.” “The spirit of the money when I shook this hat?”
he asked.
“Bring in the children of the complainant.”
“Yes!”
They came in shyly. The spectators covered
their mouths with their hands; they were too “Then you are paid,” Father said.
amazed to see the children so thin and pale. The
children walked silently to a bench and sat down The rich man opened his mouth to speak and fell
without looking up. They stared at the floor and to the floor without a sound. The lawyer rushed to
moved their hands uneasily. his aid. The judge pounded his gavel.

H0045
“Case dismissed,” he said. “Why not?”
Father strutted around the courtroom. The judge “Did you hear that children?” Father said.
even came down from his high chair to shake his
hands with him. “By the way,” he whispered, “I had My sisters started it. The rest of us followed them
an uncle who died laughing.” and soon the spectators were laughing with us,
holding their bellies and bending over the chairs.
“You like to hear my family laugh, Judge?” And the laughter of the judge was the loudest of all.
Father asked.
Like the Molave (poem) by Rafael Zulueta da Costa*
I. The youth of the land is an epic tragedy-comedy,

Not yet, Rizal, not yet. Sleep not in peace: The youth of the land is a crashing symphony,
There are a thousand waters to be spanned; The youth of the land is a child grown old in tears,
there are a thousand mountains to be crossed; The youth of the land is an old man laughing
there are a thousand crosses to be borne. through a perpetual infancy;
Our shoulders are not strong; our sinews are A bastard child of a thousand dreams,
grown flaccid with dependence, smug with ease masquerading and dancing,
under another’s wing. Rest not in peace; The youth of the land.
Not yet, Rizal, not yet. The land has need
of young blood and, what younger than your own, III.
Forever spilled in the great name of freedom, We, the Filipinos of today, are soft,
Forever oblate on the altar of Easy-going, parasitic, frivolous,
the free? Not you alone, Rizal. O souls Inconstant, indolent, inefficient.
And spirits of the martyred brave, arise! Would you have me sugarcoat you?
Arise and scour the land! Shed once again I would be happier to shower praise upon
your willing blood! Infuse the vibrant red my countrymen…but let us be realists…
into our thin anemic veins; until Let us strip us
we pick up your Promethean tools and, strong, Youth of the land, you are a bitter pill to swallow.
Out of the depthless matrix of your faith This is a testament of the youth borne on the four
in us, and on the silent cliffs of freedom, pacific winds;
we carve for all time your marmoreal dream! this is a parable of seed four ways sown in stone;
Until our people, seeing, are become this is a chip not only on the President’s shoulder:
like the Molave, firm, resilient, staunch, The nation of our fathers shivers with longing
rising on the hillside, unafraid, expectation.
Strong in its own fiber, yes, like the Molave! Shall we, sons and daughters, brother youths of the
land,
II. Walk up new and forever knock the flirting chip off?
The youth of the land is a proud and noble Or will the nation of our fathers be forever and
appellation, forever
The youth of the land is a panoramic poem, lighting candles in the wind?
The youth of the land is a book of paradoxes,
The youth of the land is a pat on one’s back, *His book Like the Molave & Collected Poems was the top prize
winner in poetry in the 1940 Commonwealth Literary Contest.
The youth of the land is a huge canvas of spectral
colors,
References:
Del Castillo, T. & Medina, B. (1968). Philippine Literature from Ancient Times to the Present. Quezon City:
Del Castillo and Sons.
Project Gutenberg http://www.gutenberg.org/ retrieved April 2009.
The Premier Digital Library of the Philippines. http://www.filipiniana.net/, retrieved April 2009.

H0045
Literature under the Japanese Occupation, the New Republic

• Japanese air squadrons bomb Pearl Harbor in Hawaii on December 8, 1941; the Philippines
followed on the same day.
• The traditional misa de gallo (simbang gabi) was suspended in churches during the cheerless
Christmas of 1941.
• Second Commonwealth Presidential Inauguration
• President Manuel Quezon and Gen. Douglas MacArthur flee
• The Fall of Bataan and the Death March
• Japanese military administration and “Mickey Mouse money”
• Guerrilla warfare (Hukbalahap1)
• Esteban Javellana’s novel, Without Seeing the Dawn (1947) was published in the U.S.
• Underground newspapers circulated: The Flash in Tagalog, Spanish, and English; Ing Masala
(The Light); Matang Lawin; Ang Tigbatas (The Common People) in Hiligaynon and English,
etc.
• Filipino collaborators (Makapili2)
• Filipina “comfort women”
• “Lola Rosa” Henson’s autobiography, Comfort Woman: A Slave of Destiny (1996)
• Popularity of Tagalog literature (Kawika3), bodabil, and kundiman
• Gen. MacArthur landed in Leyte (1944) and Victory over Japan Day (V-J Day, 1945)
• Inauguration of the new Philippine Republic on July 4, 1946
• The Barangay Writers Project was founded to publish books in English.
• The Don Carlos Palanca Memorial Awards for Literature was established in 1950.
• The Silliman Writers Summer Workshop was started in 1962 by Edilberto and Edith Tiempo.
• In 1965, the U.P. Writers Summer Workshop was started by the Department of English at
U.P.
1
Hukbo ng Bayan Laban sa mga Hapon
2
Makabayan Katipunan ng mga Pilipino
3
Katipunan ng mga Manunulat sa Wikang Pilipino
BIENVENIDO SANTOS
Born and raised in Tondo, Manila, Bienvenido Santos (1911-1996) was a Filipino-American
fictionist, poet, and non-fiction writer. He received his Bachelor of Arts degree from the
University of the Philippines where he first studied creative writing under the tutelage of
pioneering fictionist Paz Marquez-Benitez.
Santos was a government pensionado (scholar) to the U.S. in 1941. During World War 2, he
served with the Philippine government in exile under President Manuel Quezon in Washington,
D.C. together with the playwright Severino Montano and poet Jose Garcia Villa. He lived in the
U.S. for many years where he is widely credited as a pioneering Asian-American writer.
History of Philippine Literature: Japanese Occupation, the New Republic *Property of STI
H0045
He received a Rockefeller fellowship and taught as a Fulbright exchange professor, later

receiving a Guggenheim Foundation fellowship. In 1946, Santos returned to the Philippines to
become a teacher and university administrator where he received a Republic Cultural Heritage
Award in Literature as well as several Carlos Palanca Memorial Awards for his short stories.
Scent of Apples, his only book to be published in the U.S., won an American Book Award in
1980.
The March of Death (poem)

by Bienvenido Santos
Were you of them, my brother,

Whom they marched under the April sun No, you have not died; you cannot die!
And flogged to bleeding along the roads we knew I have felt your prayer touch my heart
and loved? As I walked alone the crowded streets of America!
March, my brother, march! And we would have walked these roads again one
The springs are clear and beyond the road April morn,
There is rest at the foot of the hill. Listen to the sound of working men
We were young together, Dragging tree trunks from the forests, rebuilding
So very young and unafraid; homes—laughing again
Walked those roads, dusty in the summer sun, Sowing the fields with grain, fearless
Brown pools and mud in the December rains; From the cloudiest skies.
Ran barefoot along the beaten tracks in the cane You would be silent, remembering
fields, The many young bodies that lie mangled by the
Planted corn after the harvest months. roadside;
Here, too, we fought and loved The blood-soaked dust over the bloody rage of
Shared our dreams of a better place men;
Beyond those winding trails. The agony and the mourning and the silent tears;
The grin of yellow men, their blood-stained blades
March, my brother, march! opaque in the sun;
The springs are clear beyond the road The many months of hunger and torture, and
At the foot of the hill is rest. waiting.
We knew those roads by heart I would be silent, too, having nothing to say.
Told places in the dark What matters if the winters were bitter cold
By the fragrance of garden hedge And loneliness stalked my footstep on the snow?
In front of Uncle’s house;
The clatter of wooden shoes on the bamboo bridge; March, my brother, march!
The peculiar rustling of the groves The springs are clear beyond the road
Beside the house where Celia lived. Rest, at the foot of the hill.
And we would walk these roads again on April morn
Did you see through the blood in your eyes Hand in hand like pilgrims marching
For Celia is sitting at the window Towards the church on the hillside,
As the thousands upon thousands of you But there would be no hillside;
Walked and died on the burning road? If you died Only a little nipa house beside the bamboo groves
among With the peculiar rustling in the midnight.
The hundreds by the roadside Or maybe I would walk them yet,
It should have been by the bamboo groves Remembering… Remembering…
With the peculiar rustling in the midnight.
Scent of Apples* (short story)

by Bienvenido Santos
WHEN I ARRIVED in Kalamazoo it was October watching the smoke rising above the elms, both of
and the war was still on. Gold and silver stars hung them thinking the same thought perhaps, about a
on pennants above silent windows of white and tall, grinning boy with his blue eyes and flying hair,
brick-red cottages. In a backyard an old man who went out to war: where could he be now this
burned leaves and twigs while a gray-haired woman month when leaves were turning into gold and the
sat on the porch, her red hands quiet on her lap, fragrance of gathered apples was in the wind?
H0045
It was a cold night when I left my room at the just a Filipino farmer out in the country.” He waved
hotel for a usual speaking engagement. I walked his hand toward the door. “I left the Philippines
but a little way. A heavy wind coming up from Lake more than twenty years ago and have never been
Michigan was icy on the face. It felt like winter back. Never will perhaps. I want to find out, sir, are
straying early in the northern woodlands. Under the our Filipino women the same like they were twenty
lampposts the leaves shone like bronze. And they years ago?”
rolled on the pavements like the ghost feet of a
thousand autumns long dead, long before the boys As he sat down, the hall filled with voices,
left for faraway lands without great icy winds and hushed and intrigued. I weighed my answer
promise of winter early in the air, lands without carefully. I did not want to tell a lie yet I did not want
apple trees, the singing and the gold! to say anything that would seem platitudinous,
insincere. But more important than these
It was the same night I met Celestino Fabia, “just considerations, it seemed to me that moment as I
a Filipino farmer” as he called himself, who had a looked towards my countryman, I must give him an
farm about thirty miles east of Kalamazoo. answer that would not make him so unhappy.
Surely, all these years, he must have held on to
“You came all that way on a night like this just to certain ideals, certain beliefs, even illusions peculiar
hear me talk?” to the exile.
“I’ve seen no Filipino for so many years now,” he “First,” I said as the voices gradually died down
answered quickly. “So when I saw your name in the and every eye seemed upon me, “First, tell me what
papers where it says you come from the Islands our women were like twenty years ago.”
and that you’re going to talk, I came right away.”
The man stood to answer. “Yes,” he said, “you’re
Earlier that night I had addressed a college too young… Twenty years ago our women were
crowd, mostly women. It appeared they wanted me nice, they were modest, they wore their hair long,
to talk about my country, they wanted me to tell they dressed proper and went for no monkey
them things about it because my country had business. They were natural, they went to church
become a lost country. Everywhere in the land the regularly, and they were faithful.” He had spoken
enemy stalked. Over it a great silence hung, and slowly, and now in what seemed like an
their boys were there, unheard from, or they were afterthought, added, “It’s the men who ain’t.”
on their way to some little known island on the
Pacific, young boys all, hardly men, thinking of Now I knew what I was going to say.
harvest moons and the smell of forest fire.
“Well,” I began, “it will interest you to know that
It was not hard talking about our own people. I our women have changed—but definitely! The
knew them well and I loved them. And they seemed change, however, has been on the outside only.
so far away during those terrible years that I must Inside, here,” pointing to the heart, “they are the
have spoken of them with a little fervor, a little same as they were twenty years ago. God-fearing,
nostalgia. faithful, modest, and nice.”
In the open forum that followed, the audience The man was visibly moved. “I’m very happy,
wanted to know whether there was much difference sir,” he said, in the manner of one who, having
between our women and the American women. I stakes on the land, had found no cause to regret
tried to answer the question as best I could, saying, one’s sentimental investment.
among other things, that I did not know that much
about American women, except that they looked After this, everything that was said and done in
friendly, but differences or similarities in inner that hall that night seemed like an anti-climax, and
qualities such as naturally belonged to the heart or later, as we walked outside, he gave me his name
to the mind, I could only speak about with and told me of his farm thirty miles east of the city.
vagueness.
We had stopped at the main entrance to the
While I was trying to explain away the fact that it hotel lobby. We had not talked very much on the
was not easy to make comparisons, a man rose way. As a matter of fact, we were never alone.
from the rear of the hall, wanting to say something. Kindly American friends talked to us, asked us
In the distance, he looked slight and old and very questions, said goodnight. So now I asked him
brown. Even before he spoke, I knew that he was, whether he cared to step into the lobby with me and
like me, a Filipino. talk.
“I’m a Filipino,” he began, loud and clear, in a “No, thank you,” he said, “you are tired. And I
voice that seemed used to wide open spaces, “I’m don’t want to stay out too late.”
H0045
“Yes, you live very far.” he says. So you can see what a nice boy he is, so
innocent. Then Ruth starts griping about the house,
“I got a car,” he said, “besides…” but the house is a mess, she says. True it’s a mess,
it’s always a mess, but you don’t mind, do you?
Now he smiled, he truly smiled. All night I had We’re poor folks, you know.”
been watching his face and I wondered when he
was going to smile. The trip seemed interminable. We passed
through narrow lanes and disappeared into thickets,
“Will you do me a favor, please,” he continued and came out on barren land overgrown with weeds
smiling almost sweetly. “I want you to have dinner in places. All around were dead leaves and dry
with my family out in the country. I’d call for you earth. In the distance were apple trees.
tomorrow afternoon, then drive you back. Will that
be alright?” “Aren’t those apple trees?” I asked wanting to be
sure.
“Of course,” I said. “I’d love to meet your family.”
I was leaving Kalamazoo for Muncie, Indiana, in two “Yes, those are apple trees,” he replied. “Do you
days. There was plenty of time. like apples? I got lots of ‘em. I got an apple orchard,
I’ll show you.”
“You will make my wife very happy,” he said.
All the beauty of the afternoon seemed in the
“You flatter me.” distance, on the hills, in the dull soft sky.
“Honest. She’ll be very happy. Ruth is a country “Those trees are beautiful on the hills,” I said.
girl and hasn’t met many Filipinos. I mean Filipinos
younger than I, cleaner looking. We’re just poor “Autumn’s a lovely season. The trees are getting
farmer folk, you know, and we don’t go to town very ready to die, and they show their colors, proud-like.”
often. Roger, that’s my boy, he goes to school in
town. A bus takes him early in the morning and he’s “No such thing in our own country,” I said.
back in the afternoon. He’s a nice boy.”
That remark seemed unkind, I realized later. It
“I bet he is,” I agreed. “I’ve seen the children of touched him off on a long deserted tangent, but
some of the boys by their American wives and the ever there perhaps. How many times did lonely
boys are tall, taller than their father, and very good mind take unpleasant detours away from the
looking.” familiar winding lanes towards home for fear of this,
the remembered hurt, the long lost youth, the grim
“Roger, he’d be tall. You’ll like him.” shadows of the years; how many times indeed, only
the exile knows.
Then he said goodbye and I waved to him as he
disappeared in the darkness. It was a rugged road we were traveling and the
car made so much noise that I could not hear
The next day he came, at about three in the everything he said, but I understood him. He was
afternoon. There was a mild, ineffectual sun telling his story for the first time in many years. He
shining, and it was not too cold. He was wearing an was remembering his own youth. He was thinking of
old brown tweed jacket and worn trousers to match. home. In these odd moments there seemed no
His shoes were polished, and although the green of cause for fear no cause at all, no pain. That would
his tie seemed faded, a colored shirt hardly come later. In the night perhaps. Or lonely on the
accentuated it. He looked younger than he farm under the apple trees.
appeared the night before now that he was clean-
shaven and seemed ready to go to a party. He was In this old Visayan town, the streets are narrow
grinning as we met. and dirty and strewn with coral shells. You have
been there? You could not have missed our house,
“Oh, Ruth can’t believe it,” he kept repeating as it was the biggest in town, one of the oldest, ours
he led me to his car—a nondescript thing in faded was a big family. The house stood right on the edge
black that had known better days and many hands. of the street. A door opened heavily and you enter a
“I say to her, I’m bringing you a first-class Filipino, dark hall leading to the stairs. There is the smell of
and she says, aw, go away, quit kidding, there’s no chickens roosting on the low-topped walls, there is
such thing as first-class Filipino. But Roger, that’s the familiar sound they make and you grope your
my boy, he believed me immediately. What’s he way up a massive staircase, the banisters smooth
like, daddy, he asks. Oh, you will see, I say, he’s upon the trembling hand. Such nights, they are no
first-class. Like you daddy? No, no, I laugh at him, better than the days, windows are closed against
your daddy ain’t first class. Aw, but you are, daddy, the sun; they close heavily.
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Mother sits in her corner looking very white and fried chicken legs and rice, and green peas and
sick. This was her world, her domain. In all these corn on the ear. Even as we ate, Ruth kept
years, I cannot remember the sound of her voice. standing, and going to the kitchen for more food.
Father was different. He moved about. He shouted. Roger ate like a little gentleman.
He ranted. He lived in the past and talked of honor
as though it were the only thing. “Isn’t he nice looking?” his father asked.
I was born in that house. I grew up there into a “You are a handsome boy, Roger,” I said.
pampered brat. I was mean. One day I broke their
hearts. I saw Mother cry wordlessly as Father The boy smiled at me. “You look like Daddy,” he
heaped his curses upon me and drove me out of said.
the house, the gate closing heavily after me. And
my brothers and sisters took up my father’s hate for Afterwards I noticed an old picture leaning on the
me and multiplied it numberless times in their own top of a dresser and stood to pick it up. It was
broken hearts. I was no good. yellow and soiled with many fingerings. The faded
figure of a woman in Philippine dress could yet be
But sometimes, you know, I miss that house, the distinguished although the face had become a blur.
roosting chickens on the low-topped walls. I miss
my brothers and sisters, Mother sitting in her chair, “Your…” I began.
looking like a pale ghost in a corner of the room. I
would remember the great live posts, massive tree “I don’t know who she is,” Fabia hastened to say.
trunks from the forests. Leafy plants grew on the “I picked that picture many years ago in a room on
sides, buds pointing downwards, wilted and died La Salle street in Chicago. I have often wondered
before they could become flowers. As they fell on who she is.”
the floor, Father bent to pick them and throw them
out into the coral streets. His hands were strong. I “The face wasn’t a blur in the beginning?”
have kissed those hands…many times, many times.
“Oh, no. It was a young face and good.”
Finally we rounded a deep curve and suddenly
came upon a shanty, all but ready to crumble in a Ruth came with a plate full of apples.
heap on the ground, its plastered walls were rotting
away, the floor was hardly a foot from the ground. I “Ah,” I cried, picking out a ripe one. “I’ve been
thought of the cottages of the poor colored folk in thinking where all the scent of apples came from.
the south, the hovels of the poor everywhere in the The room is full of it.”
land. This one stood all by itself as though by
common consent all the folk that used to live here “I’ll show you,” said Fabia.
had decided to stay away, despising it, ashamed of
it. Even the lovely season could not color it with He showed me a backroom, not very big. It was
beauty. half-full of apples.
A dog barked loudly as we approached. A fat “Every day,” he explained, “I take some of them
blonde woman stood at the door with a little boy by to town to sell to the groceries. Prices have been
her side. Roger seemed newly scrubbed. He hardly low. I’ve been losing on the trips.”
took his eyes off me. Ruth had a clean apron
around her shapeless waist. Now as she shook my “These apples will spoil,” I said.
hands in sincere delight I noticed shamefacedly
(that I should notice) how rough her hands were,
“We’ll feed them to the pigs.”
how coarse and red with labor, how ugly! She was
no longer young and her smile was pathetic.
Then he showed me around the farm. It was
twilight now and the apple trees stood bare against
As we stepped inside and the door closed
a glowing western sky. In apple blossom time it
behind us, immediately I was aware of the familiar
must be lovely here. But what about wintertime?
scent of apples. The room was bare except for a
few ancient pieces of second-hand furniture. In the
One day, according to Fabia, a few years ago,
middle of the room stood a stove to keep the family
before Roger was born, he had an attack of acute
warm in winter. The walls were bare. Over the
appendicitis. It was deep winter. The snow lay
dining table hung a lamp yet unlighted.
heavy everywhere. Ruth was pregnant and none
too well herself. At first she did not know what to do.
Ruth got busy with the drinks. She kept coming
She bundled him in warm clothing and put him on a
in and out of a rear room that must have been the
cot near the stove. She shoveled the snow from
kitchen and soon the table was heavy with food,
their front door and practically carried the suffering
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man on her shoulders, dragging him through the Fabia did not talk this time. I didn’t seem to have
newly made path towards the road where they anything to say myself. But when finally we came to
waited for the U.S. Mail car to pass. Meanwhile the hotel and I got down, Fabia said, “Well, I guess I
snowflakes poured all over them and she kept won’t be seeing you again.”
rubbing the man’s arms and legs as she herself
nearly froze to death. It was dimly lighted in front of the hotel and I
could hardly see Fabia’s face. Without getting off
“Go back to the house, Ruth!” her husband cried, the car, he moved to where I had sat, and I saw him
“you’ll freeze to death.” extend his hand. I gripped it.
But she clung to him wordlessly. Even as she “Tell Ruth and Roger,” I said, “I love them.”
massaged his arms and legs, her tears rolled down
her cheeks. “I won’t leave you,” she repeated. He dropped my hand quickly. “They’ll be waiting
for me now,” he said.
Finally the U.S. Mail car arrived. The mailman,
who knew them well, helped them board the car, “Look,” I said, not knowing why I said it, “one of
and, without stopping on his usual route, took the these days, very soon, I hope, I’ll be going home. I
sick man and his wife direct to the nearest hospital. could go to your town.”
Ruth stayed in the hospital with Fabia. She slept “No,” he said softly, sounding very much
in a corridor outside the patients’ ward and in the defeated but brave, “Thanks a lot. But, you see,
day time helped in scrubbing the floor and washing nobody would remember me now.”
the dishes and cleaning the men’s things. They
didn’t have enough money and Ruth was willing to Then he started the car, and as it moved away,
work like a slave. he waved his hand.
“Ruth’s a nice girl,” said Fabia, “like our own “Goodbye,” I said, waving back into the
Filipino women.” darkness. And suddenly the night was cold like
winter straying early in these northern woodlands.
Before nightfall, he took me back to the hotel.
Ruth and Roger stood at the door holding hands I hurried inside. There was a train the next
and smiling at me. From inside the room of the morning that left for Muncie, Indiana, at a quarter
shanty, a low light flickered. I had a last glimpse of after eight.
the apple trees in the orchard under the darkened
sky as Fabia backed up the car. And soon we were
on our way back to town. The dog had started *The carrier story from his book of the same title, Scent of
barking. We could hear it for some time, until finally, Apples: A Collection of Stories (University of Washington
Press, 1979).
we could not hear it anymore, and all was darkness
around us, except where the headlamps revealed a
stretch of road leading somewhere.
NICK JOAQUIN
Born Nicomedes Joaquin (1917) in Paco, Manila, Nick was a Filipino writer, historian, and
journalist, best known for his short stories and novels in the English language. He was conferred
the title of National Artist for Literature in 1976, among many other Philippine awards.
In his youth, Joaquin dropped out of high school and did odd jobs in Manila’s waterfront and
elsewhere. He taught himself by reading widely at the National Library and the library of his
father, who had been a lawyer and a colonel in the Philippine Revolution. Then, after winning a
Dominican Order-sponsored nationwide essay competition for La Naval de Manila, the University
of Santo Tomas awarded Nick an honorary Associate in Arts and a scholarship to St. Albert’s
College, the Dominican monastery in Hong Kong. However, he dropped out of the school after
only a year.
Upon his return to the Philippines, he joined the oldest weekly magazine Philippines Free
Press, starting as a proofreader. Writing under the pen name “Quijano de Manila,” the two-time
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school dropout was not only noticed for his poems, stories, and plays, but also for his intellectual
and provocative journalism—raising the level of news reportage in the country.
Joaquin deeply admired Jose Rizal and paid tribute to the national hero by way of books such
as The Storyteller’s New Medium—Rizal in Saga, The Complete Poems and Plays of Jose Rizal,
and A Question of Heroes: Essays in Criticism on Ten Key Figures of Philippine History.
During Martial Law, Nick served as a member of the Philippine Board of Censors for Motion
Pictures under then President Ferdinand Marcos. Untouched by the dictator’s iron fist, Joaquin’s
first move as National Artist was to secure the release of imprisoned activist writer Jose Lacaba.
Later, at a ceremony on Mount Makiling attended by First Lady Imelda Marcos, Nick delivered
an invocation to Mariang Makiling (the mountain’s mythical maiden), touching on the importance
of freedom and the artist. As a result, Joaquin no longer received invitations to address important
cultural events for the remainder of the Marcos regime.
At the time of his death, Nick was editor of the Philippine Graphic magazine and publisher of
its sister publication, Mirror Weekly. He also wrote columns (“Small Beer”) for the broadsheet
Philippine Daily Inquirer and Isyu, an opinion tabloid. He was interred at the Libingan ng mga
Bayani in 2004.
May Day Eve (short story)

by Nick Joaquin
THE OLD PEOPLE had ordered that the dancing girls who were desiring upstairs in the bedrooms
should stop at ten o’clock but it was almost midnight catered screaming to the windows, crowded
before the carriages came filing up the departing giggling at the windows, but were soon sighing
guests, while the girls who were staying were amorously over those young men bawling below;
promptly herded upstairs to the bedrooms, the over those wicked young men and their handsome
young men gathering around to wish them a good apparel, their proud flashing eyes, and their elegant
night and lamenting their ascent with mock signs moustaches so black and vivid in the moonlight that
and moaning, proclaiming themselves disconsolate the girls were quite ravished with love, and began
but straightway going off to finish the punch and the crying to one another how carefree were men but
brandy, though they were quite drunk already and how awful to be a girl and what a horrid, horrid
simply bursting with wild spirits, merriment, world it was, till old Anastasia plucked them off by
arrogance and audacity, for they were young bucks the ear or the pigtail and chases them off to bed—
newly arrived from Europe; the ball had been in while from up the street came the clackety-clack of
their honor; and they had waltzed and polka-ed and the watchman’s boots on the cobble and the clang-
bragged and swaggered and flirted all night and clang of his lantern against his knee, and the mighty
where in no mood to sleep yet—no, caramba, not roll of his great voice booming through the night,
on this moist tropic eve! not on this mystic May eve! “Guardia sereno-o-o! A las doce han dado-o-o.”
—with the night still young and so seductive that it
was madness not to go out, not to go forth—and And it was May again, said the old Anastasia. It
serenade the neighbors! cried one; and swim in the was the first day of May and witches were abroad in
Pasig! cried another; and gather fireflies! cried a the night, she said—for it was a night of divination,
third—whereupon there arose a great clamor for and a night of lovers, and those who cared might
coats and capes, for hats and canes, and they were peer into a mirror and would there behold the face
a couple of street-lamps flickered and a last of whoever it was they were fated to marry, said the
carriage rattled away upon the cobbles while the old Anastasia as she hobble about picking up the
blind black houses muttered hush-hush, their tile piled crinolines and folding up shawls and raking
roofs looming like sinister chessboards against a slippers in a corner while the girls climbing into four
wile sky murky with clouds, save where an evil great poster-beds that overwhelmed the room
young moon prowled about in a corner or where a began shrieking with terror, scrambling over each
murderous wind whirled, whistling and whining, other and imploring the old woman not to frighten
smelling now of the sea and now of the summer them.
orchards and wafting unbearable childhood
fragrances or ripe guavas to the young men “Enough, enough, Anastasia! We want to sleep!”
trooping so uproariously down the street that the
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“Go scare the boys instead, you old witch!” But Agueda had already slipped outside; was
already tiptoeing across the hall; her feet bare and
“She is not a witch, she is a maga. She is a her dark hair falling down her shoulders and
maga. She was born of Christmas Eve!” streaming in the wind as she fled down the stairs,
the lighted candle sputtering in one hand while with
“St. Anastasia, virgin and martyr.” the other she pulled up her white gown from her
ankles. She paused breathless in the doorway to
“Huh? Impossible! She has conquered seven the sala and her heart failed her. She tried to
husbands! Are you a virgin, Anastasia?” imagine the room filled again with lights, laughter,
whirling couples, and the jolly jerky music of the
“No, but I am seven times a martyr because of fiddlers. But, oh, it was a dark den, a weird cavern
you girls!” for the windows had been closed and the furniture
stacked up against the walls. She crossed herself
“Let her prophesy, let her prophesy! Whom will I and stepped inside.
marry, old gypsy? Come, tell me.”
The mirror hung on the wall before her; a big
“You may learn in a mirror if you are not afraid.” antique mirror with a gold frame carved into leaves
and flowers and mysterious curlicues. She saw
“I am not afraid, I will go,” cried the young cousin herself approaching fearfully in it: a small white
Agueda, jumping up in bed. ghost that the darkness bodied forth—but not
willingly, not completely, for her eyes and hair were
“Girls, girls—we are making too much noise! My so dark that the face approaching in the mirror
mother will hear and will come and pinch us all. seemed only a mask that floated forward; a bright
Agueda, lie down! And you Anastasia, I command mask with two holes gaping in it, blown forward by
you to shut your mouth and go away! Your mother the white cloud of her gown. But when she stood
told me to stay here all night, my grand lady!” before the mirror she lifted the candle level with her
chin and the dead mask bloomed into her living
“And I will not lie down!” cried the rebellious face.
Agueda, leaping to the floor. “Stay, old woman. Tell
me what I have to do.” She closed her eyes and whispered the
incantation. When she had finished, such a terror
“Tell her! Tell her!” chimed the other girls. took hold of her that she felt unable to move, unable
to open her eyes and thought she would stand there
The old woman dropped the clothes she had forever, enchanted. But she heard a step behind
gathered and approached and fixed her eyes on the her, and a smothered giggle, and instantly opened
girl. “You must take a candle,” she instructed, “and her eyes.
go into a room that is dark and that has a mirror in it
and you must be alone in the room. Go up to the “And what did you see, Mama? Oh, what was
mirror and close your eyes and say: it?” But Doña Agueda had forgotten the little girl on
her lap: she was staring pass the curly head
“‘Mirror, mirror, show to me him whose woman I nestling at her breast and seeing herself in the big
will be.’ If all goes right, just above your left mirror hanging in the room. It was the same room
shoulder will appear the face of the man you will and the same mirror but the face she now saw in it
marry.” A silence. Then: “And what if all does not go was an old face—a hard, bitter, vengeful face,
right?” asked Agueda. “Ah, then the Lord have framed in graying hair, and so sadly altered, so
mercy on you!” “Why.” “Because you may see—the sadly different from that other face like a white
Devil!” mask, that fresh young face like a pure mask than
she had brought before this mirror one wild May
The girls screamed and clutched one another, Day midnight years and years ago… “But what was
shivering. “But what nonsense!” cried Agueda. “This it Mama? Oh please go on! What did you see?”
is the year 1847. There are no devils anymore!” Doña Agueda looked down at her daughter but her
Nevertheless she had turned pale. “But where could face did not soften though her eyes filled with tears.
I go, huh? Yes, I know! Down to the sala. It has that “I saw the devil.” she said bitterly. The child
big mirror and no one is there now.” “No, Agueda, blanched. “The devil, Mama? Oh… Oh…” “Yes, my
no! It is a mortal sin! You will see the devil!” “I do love. I opened my eyes and there in the mirror,
not care! I am not afraid! I will go!” “Oh, you wicked smiling at me over my left shoulder, was the face of
girl! Oh, you mad girl!” “If you do not come to bed, the devil.” “Oh, my poor little Mama! And were you
Agueda, I will call my mother.” “And if you do I will very frightened?” “You can imagine. And that is why
tell her who came to visit you at the convent last good little girls do not look into mirrors except when
March. Come, old woman—give me that candle. I their mothers tell them. You must stop this naughty
go.” “Oh girls—give me that candle, I go.” habit, darling, of admiring yourself in every mirror
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you pass—or you may see something frightful some touched it to his lips. She shuddered in her white
day.” “But the devil, Mama—what did he look like?” gown. “Let me go,” she moaned, and tugged feebly.
“Well, let me see… He has curly hair and a scar on “No. Say you forgive me first. Say you forgive me,
his cheek—” “Like the scar of Papa?” “Well, yes. Agueda.” But instead she pulled his hand to her
But this of the devil was a scar of sin, while that of mouth and bit it—bit so sharply in the knuckles that
your Papa is a scar of honor. Or so he says.” “Go he cried with pain and lashed out with his other
on about the devil.” “Well, he had moustaches.” hand—lashed out and hit the air, for she was gone,
“Like those of Papa?” “Oh, no. Those of your Papa she had fled, and he heard the rustling of her skirts
are dirty and graying and smell horribly of tobacco, up the stairs as he furiously sucked his bleeding
while these of the devil were very black and fingers. Cruel thoughts raced through his head: he
elegant—oh, how elegant!” “And did he speak to would go and tell his mother and make her turn the
you, Mama?” “Yes… Yes, he spoke to me,” said savage girl out of the house—or he would go
Doña Agueda. And bowing her graying head; she himself to the girl’s room and drag her out of bed
wept. and slap, slap, slap her silly face! But at the same
time he was thinking that they were all going to
“Charms like yours have no need for a candle, Antipolo in the morning and was already planning
fair one,” he had said, smiling at her in the mirror how he would maneuver himself into the same boat
and stepping back to give her a low mocking bow. with her. Oh, he would have his revenge, he would
She had whirled around and glared at him and he make her pay, that little harlot! She should suffer for
had burst into laughter. “But I remember you!” he this, he thought greedily, licking his bleeding
cried. “You are Agueda, whom I left a mere infant knuckles. But—Judas! He remembered her bare
and came home to find a tremendous beauty, and I shoulders: gold in her candlelight and delicately
danced a waltz with you but you would not give me furred. He saw the mobile insolence of her neck,
the polka.” “Let me pass,” she muttered fiercely, for and her taut breasts steady in the fluid gown. Son of
he was barring the way. “But I want to dance the a Turk, but she was quite enchanting! How could
polka with you, fair one,” he said. So they stood she think she had no fire or grace? And no salt? An
before the mirror; their panting breath the only arroba she had of it!
sound in the dark room; the candle shining between
them and flinging their shadows to the wall. And “…No lack of salt in the chrism at the moment of
young Badoy Montiya (who had crept home very thy baptism!” He sang aloud in the dark room and
drunk to pass out quietly in bed) suddenly found suddenly realized that he had fallen madly in love
himself cold sober and very much awake and ready with her. He ached intensely to see her again—at
for anything. His eyes sparkled and the scar on his once! —to touch her hands and her hair; to hear her
face gleamed scarlet. “Let me pass!” she cried harsh voice. He ran to the window and flung open
again, in a voice of fury, but he grasped her by the the casements and the beauty of the night struck
wrist. “No,” he smiled. “Not until we have danced.” him back like a blow. It was May, it was summer,
“Go to the devil!” “What a temper has my serrana!” and he was young—young! —and deliriously in
“I am not your serrana!” “Whose, then? Someone I love. Such a happiness welled up within him that
know? Someone I have offended grievously? the tears spurted from his eyes. But he did not
Because you treat me, you treat all my friends like forgive her—no! He would still make her pay, he
your mortal enemies.” “And why not?” she would still have his revenge, he thought viciously,
demanded, jerking her wrist away and flashing her and kissed his wounded fingers. But what a night it
teeth in his face. “Oh, how I detest you, you had been! “I will never forget this night!” he thought
pompous young men! You go to Europe and you aloud in an awed voice, standing by the window in
come back elegant lords and we poor girls are too the dark room, the tears in his eyes and the wind in
tame to please you. We have no grace like the his hair and his bleeding knuckles pressed to his
Parisiennes, we have no fire like the Sevillians, and mouth.
we have no salt, no salt, no salt! Aye, how you
weary me, how you bore me, you fastidious men!” But, alas, the heart forgets; the heart is
“Come, come—how do you know about us?” distracted; and May time passes; summer lends;
the storms break over the rot-type orchards and the
“I was not admiring myself, sir!” “You were heart grows old; while the hours, the days, the
admiring the moon perhaps?” “Oh!” she gasped, months, and the years pile up and pile up, till the
and burst into tears. The candle dropped from her mind becomes too crowded, too confused: dust
hand and she covered her face and sobbed gathers in it; cobwebs multiply; the walls darken and
piteously. The candle had gone out and they stood fall into ruin and decay; the memory perished…and
in darkness, and young Badoy was conscience- there came a time when Don Badoy Montiya walked
stricken. “Oh, do not cry, little one! Oh, please home through a May Day midnight without
forgive me! Please do not cry! But what a brute I remembering, without even caring to remember;
am! I was drunk, little one, I was drunk and knew being merely concerned in feeling his way across
not what I said.” He groped and found her hand and the street with his cane; his eyes having grown
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quite dim and his legs uncertain—for he was old; he “Oh, come now Grandpa. This is 1890. There
was over sixty; he was a very stopped and shivered are no witches anymore.”
old man with white hair and moustaches coming
home from a secret meeting of conspirators; his “Oh-ho, my young Voltaire! And what if I tell you
mind still resounding with the speeches and his that I myself have seen a witch.”
patriot heart still exultant as he picked his way up
the steps to the front door and inside into the “You? Where?”
slumbering darkness of the house; wholly
unconscious of the May night, till on his way down “Right in this room lad, right in that mirror,” said
the hall, chancing to glance into the sala, he the old man, and his playful voice had turned
shuddered, he stopped, his blood ran cold—for he savage.
had seen a face in the mirror there—a ghostly
candlelight face with the eyes closed and the lips “When, Grandpa?”
moving, a face that he suddenly felt he had been
there before, though it was a full minute before the “Not so long ago. When I was a bit older than
lost memory came flowing, came tiding back, so you. Oh, I was a vain fellow and though I was
overflooding the actual moment and so swiftly feeling very sick that night and merely wanted to lie
washing away the piled hours and days and months down somewhere and die I could not pass that
and years that he was left suddenly young again; he doorway of course without stopping to see in the
was a gay young buck again, lately came from mirror what I looked like when dying. But when I
Europe; he had been dancing all night; he was very poked my head in what should I see in the mirror
drunk; he stepped in the doorway; he saw a face in but… but…”
the dark; he called out…and the lad standing before
the mirror (for it was a lad in a night go jumped with “The witch?”
fright and almost dropped his candle, but looking
around and seeing the old man, laughed out with “Exactly!”
relief and came running.
“And then she bewitch you, Grandpa!”
“Oh Grandpa, how you frightened me. Don
Badoy had turned very pale. “So it was you, you “She bewitched me and she tortured me. She
young bandit! And what is all this, hey? What are ate my heart and drank my blood.” said the old man
you doing down here at this hour?” “Nothing, bitterly.
Grandpa. I was only… I am only…” “Yes, you are
the great Señor only and how delighted I am to “Oh, my poor little Grandpa! Why have you never
make your acquaintance, Señor only! But if I break told me! And is she very horrible?”
this cane on your head you maga wish you were
someone else, sir!” “It was just foolishness, “Horrible? God, no—she was the most beautiful
Grandpa. They told me I would see my wife.”
creature I have ever seen! Her eyes were
somewhat like yours but her hair was like black
“Wife? What wife?” “Mine. The boys at school waters and her golden shoulders were bare. My
said I would see her if I looked in a mirror tonight God, she was enchanting! But I should have
and said: Mirror, mirror show to me her whose lover known—I should have known even then—the dark
I will be.” and fatal creature she was!”
Don Badoy cackled ruefully. He took the boy by A silence. Then: “What a horrid mirror this is,
the hair, pulled him along into the room, sat down Grandpa,” whispered the boy.
on a chair, and drew the boy between his knees.
“Now, put your cane down the floor, son, and let us “What makes you say that, hey?”
talk this over. So you want your wife already, hey?
You want to see her in advance, hey? But so you
“Well, you saw this witch in it. And Mama once
know that these are wicked games and that wicked
told me that Grandma once told her that Grandma
boys who play them are in danger of seeing
once saw the devil in this mirror. Was it of the scare
horrors?”
that Grandma died?”
“Well, the boys did warn me I might see a witch
Don Badoy started. For a moment he had
instead.”
forgotten that she was dead, that she had
perished—the poor Agueda; that they were at
“Exactly! A witch so horrible you may die of
peace at last, the two of them, her tired body at rest;
fright. And she will bewitch you, she will torture you,
her broken body set free at last from the brutal
she will eat your heart and drink your blood!”
pranks of the earth—from the trap of a May night;
from the snare of summer; from the terrible silver
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nets of the moon. She had been a mere heap of carriage was rattling away upon the cobbles, while
white hair and bones in the end: a whimpering the blind black houses muttered hush-hush, their
withered consumptive, lashing out with her cruel tiled roofs looming like sinister chessboards against
tongue; her eye like live coals; her face like ashes… a wild sky, murky with clouds, save where an evil
Now, nothing—nothing save a name on a stone; old moon prowled about in a corner or where a
save a stone in a graveyard—nothing! was left of murderous wind whirled, whistling and whining,
the young girl who had flamed so vividly in a mirror smelling now of the sea and now of the summer
one wild May Day midnight, long, long ago. orchards and wafting unbearable the window; the
bowed old man sobbing so bitterly at the window;
And remembering how she had sobbed so the tears streaming down his cheeks and the wind
piteously; remembering how she had bitten his in his hair and one hand pressed to his mouth—
hand and fled and how he had sung aloud in the while from up the street came the clackety-clack of
dark room and surprised his heart in the instant of the watchman’s boots on the cobbles, and the
falling in love: such a grief tore up his throat and clang-clang of his lantern against his knee, and the
eyes that he felt ashamed before the boy; pushed mighty roll of his voice booming through the night:
the boy away; stood up and looked out—looked out
upon the medieval shadows of the foul street where “Guardia sereno-o-o! A las doce han dado-o-o!”
a couple of street-lamps flickered and a last
The Summer Solstice* (short story)

by Nick Joaquin
THE MORETAS WERE spending St. John’s Day “But the dust, señora—”
with the children’s grandfather, whose feast day it
was. Doña Lupeng awoke feeling faint with the “I know, but better to be dirty than to be boiled
heat, a sound of screaming in her ears. In the dining alive. And what ails your wife, eh? Have you been
room the three boys already attired in their holiday beating her again?”
suits, were at breakfast, and came crowding around
her, talking all at once. “Oh no, señora: I have not touched her.”
“How long you have slept, Mama!” “Then why is she screaming? Is she ill?”
“We thought you were never getting up!” “I do not think so. But how do I know? You can
go and see for yourself, señora. She is up there.”
“Do we leave at once, huh? Are we going now?”
When Doña Lupeng entered the room, the big
“Hush, hush I implore you! Now look: your father half-naked woman sprawled across the bamboo
has a headache, and so have I. So be quiet this bed stopped screaming. Doña Lupeng was
instant—or no one goes to Grandfather.” shocked.
Though it was only seven by the clock the house “What is this Amada? Why are you still in bed at
was already a furnace, the windows dilating with the this hour? And in such a posture! Come, get up at
harsh light and the air already burning with the once. You should be ashamed!”
immense, intense fever of noon.
But the woman on the bed merely stared. Her
She found the children’s nurse working in the sweat-beaded brows contracted, as if in an effort to
kitchen. “And why is it you who are preparing understand. Then her face relax her mouth sagged
breakfast? Where is Amada?” But without waiting open humorously and, rolling over on her back and
for an answer she went to the backdoor and opened spreading out her big soft arms and legs, she began
it, and the screaming in her ears became wild noiselessly quaking with laughter—the mute mirth
screaming in the stables across the yard. “Oh my jerking in her throat; the moist pile of her flesh
God!” she groaned and, grasping her skirts, hurried quivering like brown jelly. Saliva dribbled from the
across the yard. corners of her mouth.
In the stables Entoy, the driver, apparently deaf Doña Lupeng blushed, looking around
to the screams, was hitching the pair of piebald helplessly, and seeing that Entoy had followed and
ponies to the coach. was leaning in the doorway, watching stolidly, she
blushed again. The room reeked hotly of intimate
“Not the closed coach, Entoy! The open odors. She averted her eyes from the laughing
carriage!” shouted Doña Lupeng as she came up. woman on the bed, in whose nakedness she
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seemed so to participate that she was ashamed to “Oh, look, boys—here comes the St. John!” cried
look directly at the man in the doorway. Doña Lupeng, and she sprang up in the swaying
carriage, propping one hand on her husband’s
“Tell me, Entoy: has she had been to the shoulder while the other she held up her silk
Tadtarin?” parasol.
“Yes, señora. Last night.” And “Here come the men with their St. John!”
cried voices up and down the countryside. People in
“But I forbade her to go! And I forbade you to let wet clothes dripping with well-water, ditch-water and
her go!” river-water came running across the hot woods and
fields and meadows, brandishing cans of water,
“I could do nothing.” wetting each other uproariously, and shouting San
Juan! San Juan! as they ran to meet the
“Why, you beat her at the least pretext!” procession.
“But now I dare not touch her.” Up the road, stirring a cloud of dust, and gaily
bedrenched by the crowds gathered along the
“Oh, and why not?” wayside, a concourse of young men clad only in
soggy trousers were carrying aloft an image of the
“It is the day of St. John: the spirit is in her.” Precursor. Their teeth flashed white in their
laughing faces and their hot bodies glowed crimson
“But, man?” as they pranced past, shrouded in fiery dust,
singing and shouting and waving their arms: the St.
“It is true, señora. The spirit is in her. She is the John riding swiftly above the sea of dark heads and
Tadtarin. She must do as she pleases. Otherwise, glittering in the noon sun—a fine, blonde, heroic St.
the grain would not grow, the trees would bear no John: very male, very arrogant: the Lord of Summer
fruit, the rivers would give no fish, and the animals indeed; the Lord of Light and Heat—erect and godly
would die.” virile above the prone and female earth—while the
worshippers danced and the dust thickened and the
“Naku, I did not know your wife was so powerful, animals reared and roared and the merciless fires
Entoy.” came raining down form the skies—relentlessly
upon field and river and town and winding road, and
upon the joyous throng of young men against
“At such times she is not my wife: she is the wife
whose uproar a couple of seminarians in muddy
of the river, she is the wife of the crocodile, she is
cassocks vainly intoned the hymn of the noon god:
the wife of the moon.”
“That we, thy servants, in chorus
***
May praise thee, our tongues restore us…”
“BUT HOW CAN they still believe such things?”
demanded Doña Lupeng of her husband as they
drove in the open carriage through the pastoral But Doña Lupeng, standing in the stopped
countryside that was the arrabal of Paco in the carriage, looking very young and elegant in her
1850’s. white frock, under the twirling parasol, stared down
on the passing male horde with increasing
annoyance. The insolent man-smell of their bodies
Don Paeng darted a sidelong glance at his wife,
rose all about her—wave upon wave of it—
by which he intimated that the subject was not a
enveloping her, assaulting her senses, till she felt
proper one for the children, who were sitting
faint with it and pressed a handkerchief to her nose.
opposite, facing their parents.
And as she glanced at her husband and saw with
what a smug smile he was watching the revelers,
Don Paeng, drowsily stroking his moustaches,
her annoyance deepened. When he bade her sit
his eyes closed against the hot light, merely
down because all eyes were turned on her, she
shrugged.
pretended not to hear; stood up even straighter, as
if to defy those rude creatures flaunting their
“And you should have seen that Entoy,”
manhood in the sun.
continued his wife. “You know how the brute treats
her: she cannot say a word but he thrashes her. But
And she wondered peevishly what the braggarts
this morning he stood as meek as a lamb while she
were being so cocky about? For this arrogance, this
screamed and screamed. He seemed actually in
pride, this bluff male health of theirs was (she told
awe of her, do you know—actually afraid of her!”
herself) founded on the impregnable virtue of
generations of good women. The boobies were so
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sure of themselves because they had always been he knew everything about Napoleon and the
sure of their wives. “All the sisters being virtuous, all Revolution. When Doña Lupeng expressed surprise
the brothers are brave,” thought Doña Lupeng, with at his presence that morning in the St. John’s
a bitterness that rather surprised her. Women had crowd, he laughed in her face.
built it up: this poise of the male. Ah, and women
could destroy it, too! She recalled, vindictively, this “But I adore these old fiestas of ours! They are
morning’s scene at the stables: Amada naked and so romantic! Last night, do you know, we walked all
screaming in bed whiled from the doorway her lord the way through the woods, I and some boys, to
and master looked on in meek silence. And was it see the procession of the Tadtarin.”
not the mystery of a woman in her flowers that had
restored the tongue of that old Hebrew prophet? “And was that romantic too?” asked Doña
Lupeng.
“Look, Lupeng, they have all passed now,” Don
Paeng was saying, “Do you mean to stand all the “It was weird. It made my flesh crawl. All those
way?” women in such a mystic frenzy! And she who was
the Tadtarin last night—she was a figure right out of
She looked around in surprise and hastily sat a flamenco!”
down. The children tittered, and the carriage
started. “I fear to disenchant you, Guido—but that
woman happens to be our cook.”
“Has the heat gone to your head, woman?”
asked Don Paeng, smiling. The children burst “She is beautiful.”
frankly into laughter.
“Our Amada beautiful? But she is old and fat!”
Their mother colored and hung her head. She
was beginning to feel ashamed of the thoughts that “She is beautiful—as that old tree you are
had filled her mind. They seemed improper—almost leaning on is beautiful,” calmly insisted the young
obscene—and the discovery of such depths of man, mocking her with his eyes.
wickedness in herself appalled her. She moved
closer to her husband to share the parasol with him. They were out in the buzzing orchard, among the
ripe mangoes; Doña Lupeng seated on the grass,
“And did you see our young cousin Guido?” he her legs tucked beneath her, and the young man
asked. sprawled flat on his belly, gazing up at her, his face
moist with sweat. The children were chasing
“Oh, was he in that crowd?” dragonflies. The sun stood still in the west. The long
day refused to end. From the house came the
“A European education does not seem to have sudden roaring laughter of the men playing cards.
spoiled his taste for country pleasures.”
“Beautiful! Romantic! Adorable! Are those the
“I did not see him.” only words you learned in Europe?” cried Doña
Lupeng, feeling very annoyed with this young man
“He waved and waved.” whose eyes adored her one moment and mocked
her the next.
“The poor boy. He will feel hurt. But truly, Paeng.
I did not see him.” “Ah, I also learned to open my eyes over there—
to see the holiness and the mystery of what is
“Well, that is always a woman’s privilege.” vulgar.”
*** “And what is so holy and mysterious about—

about the Tadtarin, for instance?”
BUT WHEN THAT afternoon, at the
grandfather’s, the young Guido presented himself, “I do not know. I can only feel it. And it frightens
properly attired and brushed and scented, Doña me. Those rituals come to us from the earliest dawn
Lupeng was so charming and gracious with him that of the world. And the dominant figure is not the
he was enchanted and gazed after her all afternoon male but the female.”
with enamored eyes.
“But they are in honor of St. John.”
This was the time when our young men were all
going to Europe and bringing back with them, not “What has your St. John to do with them? Those
the Age of Victoria, but the Age of Byron. The women worship a more ancient lord. Why, do you
young Guido knew nothing of Darwin and evolution;
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know that no man may join those rites unless he “No more of your comedy, Guido! And besides—
first puts on some article of women’s apparel and—” where have those children gone to! I must go after
them.”
“And what did you put on, Guido?”
As she lifted her skirts to walk away, the young
“How sharp you are! Oh, I made such love to a man, propping up his elbows, dragged himself
toothless old hag there that she pulled off her forward on the ground and solemnly kissed the tips
stocking for me. And I pulled it on, over my arm, like of her shoes. She stared down in sudden horror,
a glove. How your husband would have despised transfixed—and he felt her violent shudder. She
me!” backed away slowly, still staring; then turned and
fled toward the house.
“But what on earth does it mean?”
***
“I think it is to remind us men that once upon a
time you women were supreme and we men were ON THE WAY home that evening Don Paeng
the slaves.” noticed that his wife was in a mood. They were
alone in the carriage: the children were staying
“But surely there have always been kings?” overnight at their grandfather’s. The heat had not
subsided. It was heat without gradations: that knew
“Oh, no. The queen came before the king, and no twilights and no dawns; that was still there, after
the priestess before the priest, and the moon before the sun had set; that would be there already, before
the sun.” the sun had risen.
“The moon?” “Has young Guido been annoying you?” asked

Don Paeng.
“—who is the Lord of the women.”
“Yes! All afternoon.”
“Why?”
“These young men today—what a disgrace they
“Because the tides of women, like the tides of are! I felt embarrassed as a man to see him
the sea, are tides of the moon. Because the first following you about with those eyes of a whipped
blood— But what is the matter, Lupe? Oh, have I dog.”
offended you?”
She glanced at him coldly. “And was that all you
“Is this how they talk to decent women in felt, Paeng? embarrassed—as a man?”
Europe?”
“A good husband has constant confidence in the
“They do not talk to women, they pray to them— good sense of his wife,” he pronounced grandly,
as men did in the dawn of the world.” and smiled at her.
“Oh, you are mad! mad!” But she drew away; huddled herself in the other
corner. “He kissed my feet,” she told him
“Why are you so afraid, Lupe?” disdainfully, her eyes on his face.
“I afraid? And of whom? My dear boy, you still He frowned and made a gesture of distaste. “Do
have your mother’s milk in your mouth. I only wish you see? They have the instincts, the style of the
you to remember that I am a married woman.” canalla! To kiss a woman’s feet, to follow her like a
dog, to adore her like a slave—”
“I remember that you are a woman, yes. A
beautiful woman. And why not? Did you turn into “Is it so shameful for a man to adore women?”
some dreadful monster when you married? Did you
stop being a woman? Did you stop being beautiful? “A gentleman loves and respects Woman. The
Then why should my eyes not tell you what you cads and lunatics—they ‘adore’ the women.”
are—just because you are married?”
“But maybe we do not want to be loved and
“Ah, this is too much now!” cried Doña Lupeng, respected—but to be adored.”
and she rose to her feet.
But when they reached home she did not lie
“Do not go, I implore you! Have pity on me!” down but wandered listlessly through the empty
house. When Don Paeng, having bathed and
changed, came down from the bedroom, he found
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her in the dark parlor seated at the harp and THE CULT OF the Tadtarin is celebrated on
plucking out a tune, still in her white frock and three days: the feast of St. John and the two
shoes. preceding days. On the first night, a young girl
heads the procession; on the second, a mature
“How can you bear those hot clothes, Lupeng? woman; and on the third, a very old woman who
And why the darkness? Order someone to bring dies and comes to life again. In these processions,
light in here.” as in those of Pakil and Obando, everyone dances.
“There is no one, they have all gone to see the Around the tiny plaza in front of the barrio
Tadtarin.” chapel, quite a stream of carriages was flowing
leisurely. The Moretas were constantly being hailed
“A pack of loafers we are feeding!” from the other vehicles. The plaza itself and the
sidewalks were filled with chattering, strolling,
She had risen and gone to the window. He profusely sweating people. More people were
approached and stood behind her, grasped her crowded on the balconies and windows of the
elbows and, stooping, kissed the nape of her neck. houses. The moon had not yet risen; the black night
But she stood still, not responding, and he released smoldered; in the windless sky the lightning’s
her sulkily. She turned around to face him. abruptly branching fire seemed the nerves of the
tortured air made visible.
“Listen, Paeng. I want to see it, too. The
Tadtarin, I mean. I have not seen it since I was a “Here they come now!” cried the people on the
little girl. And tonight is the last night.” balconies.
“You must be crazy! Only low people go there. And “Here come the women with their St. John!”
And I thought you had a headache?” He was still cried the people on the sidewalks, surging forth on
sulking. the street. The carriages halted and their occupants
descended. The plaza rang with the shouts of
“But I want to go! My head aches worse in the people and the neighing of horses—and with
house. For a favor, Paeng.” another keener sound: a sound as of sea-waves
steadily rolling nearer.
“I told you: No! go and take those clothes off.
But, woman, whatever has got into you!” he strode The crowd parted, and up the street came the
off to the table, opened the box of cigars, took one, prancing, screaming, writhing women, their eyes
banged the lid shut, bit off an end of the cigar, and wild, black shawls flying around their shoulders, and
glared about for a light. their long hair streaming and covered with leaves
and flowers. But the Tadtarin, a small old woman
She was still standing by the window and her with white hair, walked with calm dignity in the midst
chin was up. of the female tumult, a wand in one hand, a bunch
of seedling in the other. Behind her, a group of girls
“Very well, if you do want to come, do not bore aloft a little black image of the Baptist—a
come—but I am going.” crude, primitive, grotesque image, its big-eyed head
too big for its puny naked torso, bobbing and
“I warn you, Lupe; do not provoke me!” swaying above the hysterical female horde and
looking at once so comical and so pathetic that Don
“I will go with Amada. Entoy can take us. You Paeng, watching with his wife on the sidewalk, was
cannot forbid me, Paeng. There is nothing wrong outraged. The image seemed to be crying for help,
with it. I am not a child.” to be struggling to escape—a St. John indeed in the
hands of the Herodias; a doomed captive these
But standing very straight in her white frock, her witches were subjecting first to their derision; a
eyes shining in the dark and her chin thrust up, she gross and brutal caricature of his sex.
looked so young, so fragile, that his heart was
touched. He sighed, smiled ruefully, and shrugged Don Paeng flushed hotly: he felt that all those
his shoulders. women had personally insulted him. He turned to
his wife, to take her away—but she was watching
“Yes, the heat has touched you in the head, greedily, taut and breathless, her head thrust
Lupeng. And since you are so set on it—very well, forward and her eyes bulging, the teeth bared in the
let us go. Come, have the coach ordered!” slack mouth, and the sweat gleaning on her face.
Don Paeng was horrified. He grasped her arm—but
just then a flash of lightning blazed and the
***
screaming women fell silent: the Tadtarin was about
to die.
H0045
The old woman closed her eyes and bowed her “Stop pushing, shameless one, or I kick you!”
head and sank slowly to her knees. A pallet was
brought and set on the ground and she was laid in it “Let me pass, let me pass, you harlots!” cried
and her face covered with a shroud. Her hands still Don Paeng.
clutched the wand and the seedlings. The women
drew away, leaving her in a cleared space. They “Abah, it is a man!”
covered their heads with their black shawls and
began wailing softly, unhumanly—a hushed, animal “How dare he come in here?”
keening.
“Break his head!”
Overhead the sky was brightening, silver light
defined the rooftops. When the moon rose and “Throw the animal out!”
flooded with hot brilliance the moveless crowded
square, the black-shawled women stopped wailing “Throw him out! Throw him out!” shrieked the
and a girl approached and unshrouded the Tadtarin, voices, and Don Paeng found himself surrounded
who opened her eyes and sat up, her face lifted to by a swarm of gleaming eyes.
the moonlight. She rose to her feet and extended
the wand and the seedlings and the women joined Terror possessed him and he struck out
in a mighty shout. They pulled off and waved their savagely with both fists, with all his strength—but
shawls and whirled and began dancing again— they closed in as savagely: solid walls of flesh that
laughing and dancing with such joyous exciting crushed upon him and pinned his arms helpless,
abandon that the people in the square and on the while unseen hands struck and struck his face, and
sidewalk, and even those on the balconies, were ravaged his hair and clothes, and clawed at his
soon laughing and dancing, too. Girls broke away flesh, as—kicked and buffeted, his eyes blind and
from their parents and wives from their husbands to his torn mouth salty with blood—he was pushed
join in the orgy. down, down to his knees, and half-shoved, half-
dragged to the doorway and rolled out to the street.
“Come, let us go now,” said Don Paeng to his He picked himself up at once and walked away with
wife. She was shaking with fascination; tears a dignity that forbade the crowd gathered outside to
trembled on her lashes; but she nodded meekly and laugh or to pity. Entoy came running to meet him.
allowed herself to be led away. But suddenly she
pulled free from his grasp, darted off, and ran into “But what has happened to you, Don Paeng?”
the crowd of dancing women.
“Nothing. Where is the coach?”
She flung her hands to her hair and whirled and
her hair came undone. Then, planting her arms “Just over there, sir. But you are wounded in the
akimbo, she began to trip a nimble measure, an face!”
indistinctive folk-movement. She tossed her head
back and her arched throat bloomed whitely. Her “No, these are only scratches. Go and get the
eyes brimmed with moonlight, and her mouth with señora. We are going home.”
laughter.
When she entered the coach and saw his
Don Paeng ran after her, shouting her name, but bruised face and torn clothing, she smiled coolly.
she laughed and shook her head and darted deeper
into the dense maze of procession, which was “What a sight you are, man! What have you done
moving again, towards the chapel. He followed her, with yourself?”
shouting; she eluded him, laughing—and through
the thick of the female horde they lost and found And when he did not answer: “Why, have they
and lost each other again—she, dancing and he pulled out his tongue too?” she wondered aloud.
pursuing—till, carried along by the tide, they were
both swallowed up into the hot, packed, turbulent
***
darkness of the chapel. Inside poured the entire
procession, and Don Paeng, finding himself trapped
AND WHEN THEY are home and stood facing
tight among milling female bodies, struggled with
each other in the bedroom, she was still as light-
sudden panic to fight his way out. Angry voices rose
hearted.
all about him in the stifling darkness.
“What are you going to do, Rafael?”
“Hoy, you are crushing my feet!”
“I am going to give you a whipping.”
“And let go of my shawl, my shawl!”
“But why?”
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“Because you have behaved tonight like a lewd But he still struggled stubbornly. “Is it not enough
woman.” that you have me helpless? Is it not enough that I
feel what you want me to feel?”
“How I behaved tonight is what I am. If you call
that lewd, then I was always a lewd woman and a But she shook her head furiously. “Until you
whipping will not change me—though you whipped have said to me, there can be no peace between
me till I died.” us.”
“I want this madness to die in you.” He was exhausted at last; he sank heavily to his
knees, breathing hard and streaming with sweat, his
“No, you want me to pay for your bruises.” fine body curiously diminished now in its ravaged
apparel.
He flushed darkly. “How can you say that,
Lupe?” “I adore you, Lupe,” he said tonelessly.
“Because it is true. You have been whipped by She strained forward avidly, “What? What did
the women and now you think to avenge yourself by you say?” she screamed.
whipping me.”
And he, in his dead voice: “That I adore you.
His shoulders sagged and his face dulled. “If you That I adore you. That I worship you. That the air
can think that of me—” you breathe and the ground you tread is so holy to
me. That I am your dog, your slave…”
“You could think me a lewd woman!”
But it was still not enough. Her fists were still
“Oh, how do I know what to think of you? I was clenched, and she cried: “Then come, crawl on the
sure I knew you as I knew myself. But now you are floor, and kiss my feet!”
as distant and strange to me as a female Turk in
Africa.” Without a moment’s hesitation, he sprawled
down flat and, working his arms and legs, gaspingly
“Yet you would dare whip me—” clawed his way across the floor, like a great
agonized lizard, the woman steadily backing away
“Because I love you, because I respect you.” as he approached, her eyes watching him avidly,
her nostrils dilating, till behind her loomed the open
“And because if you ceased to respect me you window, the huge glittering moon, the rapid flashes
would cease to respect yourself?” of lightning. she stopped, panting, and leaned
against the sill. He lay exhausted at her feet, his
“Ah, I did not say that!” face flat on the floor.
“Then why not say it? It is true. And you want to She raised her skirts and contemptuously thrust
say it, you want to say it!” out a naked foot. He lifted his dripping face and
touched his bruised lips to her toes; lifted his hands
But he struggled against her power. “Why should and grasped the white foot and kissed it savagely—
I want to?” he demanded peevishly. kissed the step, the sole, the frail ankle—while she
bit her lips and clutched in pain at the whole
“Because, either you must say it—or you must windowsill, her body and her loose hair streaming
whip me,” she taunted. out the window—streaming fluid and black in the
white night where the huge moon glowed like a sun
Her eyes were upon him and the shameful fear and the dry air flamed into lightning and the pure
that had unmanned him in the dark chapel heat burned with the immense intense fever of
possessed him again. His legs had turned to water; noon.
it was a monstrous agony to remain standing.
*In 1978, the play Tatarin—originally titled “A Witches Sabbath
But she was waiting for him to speak, forcing him in Three Acts”—based on the short story, was staged at the
to speak. Cultural Center of the Philippines. The theatrical production
was remarkable because three National Artists collaborated:
Nick Joaquin, the author; Lamberto Avellana, the director;
“No, I cannot whip you!” he confessed miserably. and Napoleon Abueva, the sculptor. Then in 2001, noted film
director Tikoy Aguiluz and critically acclaimed script writer
“Then say it! Say it!” she cried, pounding her Ricky Lee adapted the story to a movie casting Edu Manzano
clenched fists together. “Why suffer and suffer? And as Don Paeng, Dina Bonnevie as Doña Lupe, and Rica
Peralejo as Amada.
in the end you would only submit.”
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The House on Zapote Street* (short story)

by Nick Joaquin
DR. LEONARDO QUITANGON, a soft-spoken, laying a hand on the young doctor’s shoulder: “But I
mild-mannered, cool-tempered Caviteño, was still like you. You are a good man.”
fancy-free at thirty-five when he returned to Manila,
after six years abroad. Then, at the University of The rest of the household were two very young
Santo Tomas where he went to teach, he met Lydia maids who spoke almost no Tagalog, and two very
Cabading, a medical intern. He liked her quiet ways fierce dogs, chained to the front door in the daytime,
and began to date her steadily. They went to the unchained in the front yard at night.
movies and to basketball games and he took her a
number of times to his house in Sta. Mesa to meet The house on Zapote Street is in the current
his family. architectural cliché: the hoity-toity Philippine split-
level suburban style—a half-storey perched above
Lydia was then only twenty-three and looked like the living area, to which it is bound by the long
a sweet unspoiled girl, but there was a slight air of slope of the roof and which it overlooks from a
mystery about her. Leonardo and his brothers balcony, so that a person standing in the sala can
noticed that she almost never spoke of her home see the doors of the bedrooms and bathroom just
life or her childhood; she seemed to have no gay above his head. The house is painted, as is also the
early memories to share with her lover, as current fashion, in various pastel shades, a different
sweethearts usually crave to do. And whenever it color to every three or four planks. The inevitable
looked as if she might have to stay out late, she piazza curves around two sides of the house, which
would say: “I’ll have to tell my father first.” And off has a strip of lawn and a low wall all around it. The
she would go, wherever she was, to tell her father, Cabadings did not keep a car, but the house
though it meant going all the way to Makati, where provides for an eventual garage and driveway. This,
she lived with her parents in a new house on and the upholstered furniture, the shell lamps and
Zapote Street. the fancy bric-a-brac that clutters the narrow house
indicate that the Cabadings had not only risen high
The Quitangons understood that she was an enough to justify their split-level pretensions but
only child and that her parents were, therefore, were expecting to go higher.
over-zealous in looking after her. Her father usually
took her to school and fetched her after classes, Lydia took the board exams and passed them.
and had been known to threaten to arrest young The lovers asked her father’s permission to wed.
men who stared at her on the streets or pressed too Cabading laid down two conditions: that the
close against her on jeepneys. This high- wedding would be a lavish one and that Leonardo
handedness seemed natural enough, for Pablo was to pay a dowry of P5,000. The young doctor
Cabading, Lydia’s father, was a member of the said that he could afford the big wedding but not the
Manila Police Department. big dowry. Cabading shrugged his shoulders: no
dowry, no marriage.
After Lydia finished her internship, Leonardo
Quitangon became a regular visitor at the house on Leornardo spent some frantic weeks scraping up
Zapote Street: he was helping her prepare for the cash and managed to gather P3,000. Cabading
board exams. Her family, seemed to like him. The agreed to reduce his price to that amount, then laid
mother, Anunciacion, struck him as a mousy down a final condition: after the wedding, Lydia and
woman unable to speak save at her husband’s Leonardo must make their home at the house on
bidding. There was a foster-son, a little boy the Zapote Street.
Cabadings had adopted. As for Pablo Cabading, he
was a fine strapping man, an Ilocano, who gave the “I built this house for Lydia,” said Cabading, “and
impression of being taller than he was and looked I want her to live here even when she’s married.
every inch an agent of the law: full of brawn and Besides, her mother couldn’t bear to be separated
guts and force, and smoldering with vitality. He was from Lydia, her only child.”
a natty dresser, liked youthful colors and styles,
decorated his house with pictures of himself and, at There was nothing Leonardo could do but
fifty, looked younger than his inarticulate wife, who consent.
was actually two years younger than he.
Lydia and Leonardo were married on September
When Leonardo started frequenting the house 10 last year, at the Cathedral of Manila, with Mrs.
on Zapote Street, Cabading told him: “I’ll be frank Delfin Montano, wife of the Cavite governor, and
with you. None of Lydia’s boyfriends ever lasted ten Senator Ferdinand Marcos as sponsors. The
minutes in this house. I didn’t like them and I told reception was at the Selecta. The status gods of
them so and made them get out.” Then he added Suburbia were properly propitiated. Then the
History of Philippine Literature: Japanese Occupation, the Republic *Property of STI
H0045
newlyweds went to live on Zapote Street—and acquiescence. Had his spirit been so quickly
Leonardo almost immediately realized why Lydia broken? Was he, too, like the rest of the household,
had been so reticent and mysterious about her being drawn to revolve, silently and obediently,
home life. around the master of the house?
The cozy family group that had charmed him in Once, late at night, he suddenly showed up at
courtship days turned out to be rather too cozy. The his parents’ house in Sta. Mesa and his brothers
entire household revolved in rapt submission were shocked at the great change in him within so
around Pablo Cabading. The wife, the daughter, the short a time. He looked terrified. What had
foster son, the maids and even the dogs trembled happened? His car had broken down and he had
when the master lifted his voice. Cabading liked to had it repaired and now he could not go home. But
brag that he was a “killer”: in 1946 he had shot dead why not?
two American soldiers he caught robbing a
neighbor’s house in Quezon City. “You don’t know my father-in-law,” he groaned.
“Everybody in that house must be in by a certain
Leonardo found himself within a family turned in hour. Otherwise, the gates are locked, the doors are
on itself, self-enclosed and self- sufficient—in a locked, the windows are locked. Nobody can get in
house that had no neighbors and no need for any. any more!”
His brothers say that he made more friends in the
neighborhood within the couple of months he A younger brother, Gene, offered to accompany
stayed there than the Cabadings had made in a him home and explain to Cabading what had
year. Pablo Cabading did not like what was his to happened. The two rode to Zapote and found the
stray out of, and what was not his to stray into his house dark and locked up.
house. And within that house he wanted to be the
center of everything, even of his daughter’s Says Gene: “That memory makes my blood
honeymoon. boil—my eldest brother fearfully clanging and
clanging the gate, and nobody to let him in. I
Whenever Leonardo and Lydia went to the wouldn’t have waited a second, but he waited five,
movies or for a ride, Cabading insisted on being ten, fifteen minutes, knocking at that gate, begging
taken along. If they seated him on the back seat to be let in. I couldn’t have it!”
while they sat together in front, he raged and
glowered. He wanted to sit in front with them. In the end the two brothers rode back to Sta.
Mesa; where Leonardo spent the night. When he
When Leonardo came home from work, he must returned to the house on Zapote the next day, his
not tarry with Lydia in the bedroom chatting; both of father-in-law greeted him with a sarcastic question:
them must come down at once to the sala and talk “Where were you? At a basketball game?”‘
with their father. Leonardo explained that he was
not much of a talker: “That’s why I fell in love with Leonardo became anxious to take his wife away
Lydia, because she’s the quiet type too.” No matter, from that house. He talked it over with her, then
said Cabading. They didn’t have to talk at all; he they went to tell her father. Said Cabading bluntly:
would do all the talking himself so long as they sat “If she goes with you, I’ll shoot her dead before your
there in the sala before his eyes. eyes.”
So, his cozy family group sat around him at His brothers urged him to buy a gun, but
night, silent, while Cabading talked and talked. But, Leonardo felt in his pocket and said, “I’ve got my
finally, the talk had to stop, the listeners hid to rise rosary.” Cried his brother Gene: “You can’t fight a
and retire—and it was this moment that Cabading gun with a rosary!”
seemed unable to bear. He couldn’t bear to see
Lydia and Leonardo rise and go up together to their When Lydia took her path as a physician,
room. One night, unable to bear it any longer he Cabading announced that only he and his wife
shouted, as they rose to retire: “Lydia, you sleep would accompany Lydia to the ceremony. It would
with your mother tonight. She has a toothache.” not be fair, he said, to let Leonardo, who had not
After a dazed look at her husband, Lydia obeyed. borne the expenses of Lydia’s education, to share
Leonardo went to bed alone. that moment of glory too. Leonardo said that, if he
could not go, he would like them at least to use his
The incident would be repeated; there would car. The offer was rejected. Cabading preferred to
always be other reasons, besides Mrs. Cabading’s hire a taxi.
toothaches.
After about two months at the house on Zapote
What horrified Leonardo was not merely what Street, Leonardo moved out, alone. Her parents
was being done to him but his increasing would not let Lydia go and she herself was too
H0045
afraid to leave. During the succeeding weeks, Gene and Nonilo Quitangon went out to the gate
efforts to contact her proved futile. The house on and invited her to come in. “No! No! All I want is my
Zapote became even more closed to the outside daughter!” she screamed. Cabading, who was
world. If Lydia emerged from it at all, she was inside the waiting taxi, then got out and demanded
always accompanied by her father, mother or that the Quitangons produce Lydia. Vexed, Nonilo
foster-brother, or by all three. Quitangon cried: “Aba, what have we to do with
where your daughter is? Anyway, she’s with her
When her husband heard that she had started husband.” At that, Cabading ran to the taxi,
working at a hospital he went there to see her but snatched a submachinegun from a box, and aimed
instead met her father coming to fetch her. The very it at Gene Quitangon. (Nonilo had run into the
next day, Lydia was no longer working at that house to get a gun.)
hospital.
“Produce my daughter at once or I’ll shoot you all
Leonardo knew that she was with child and he down!” shouted Cabading.
was determined to bear all her pre-natal expenses.
He went to Zapote one day when her father was out Gene, the gun’s muzzle practically in his face,
and persuaded her to come out to the yard but sought to pacify the older man: “Why can’t we talk
could not take the money he offered across the this over quietly like decent people inside the
locked gate. “Just mail it,” she cried and fled into the house? Look, we’re creating a scandal in the
house. He sent her a check by registered mail; it neighborhood.”
was promptly mailed back to him.
Cabading lowered his gun. “‘I give you till
On Christmas Eve, Leonardo returned to the midnight tonight to produce my daughter,” he
house on Zapote with a gift for his wife, and stood growled. “If you don’t, you better ask the PC to
knocking at the gate for so long the neighbors guard this house!”
gathered at windows to watch him. Finally, he was
allowed to enter, present his gift to Lydia and talk Then he and his wife drove off in the taxi, just a
with her for a moment. She said that her father moment before the mobile police patrol the
seemed agreeable to a meeting with Leonardo’s neighbors had called arrived. The police advised
father, to discuss the young couple’s problem. So Gene to file a complaint with the fiscal’s office.
the elder Quitangon and two of his younger sons Instead, Gene decided to go to the house on
went to Zapote one evening. The lights were on in Zapote Street, hoping that “diplomacy” would work.
the Cabading house, but nobody responded to their
knocking. To his surprise, he was admitted at once by a
smiling and very genial Cabading. “You are a brave
Then all the lights were turned off. As they stood man,” he told Gene, “and a lucky one.” And he
wondering what to do, a servant girl came out and ordered a Coke brought for the visitor. Gene said
told them that the father was out. (Lydia would later that he was going to Cavite but could not promise to
tell them that they had not been admitted because produce Lydia by midnight: it was up to the couple
her father had not yet decided what she was to say to decide whether they would come back.
to them.)
It was about eight in the evening when Gene
The last act of this curious drama began Sunday arrived in Maragondon. As his car drove into the
last week, when Leonardo was astounded to yard of his family’s old house, Lydia and Leonardo
receive an early-morning phone call from his wife. appeared at a window and frantically asked what
She said she could no longer bear to be parted from had happened. “Nothing,” said Gene, and their
him and bade him pick her up at a certain church, faces lit up. “We’re having our honeymoon at last,”
where she was with her foster brother. Leonardo Lydia told Gene as he entered the house. And the
rushed to the church, picked up the two, dropped old air of dread, of mystery, did seem to have lifted
the boy off at a street near Zapote, and then sped from her face. But it was them again when, after
with Lydia to Maragondon, Cavite, where the supper, he told them what had happened in Sta.
Quitangons have a house. He stopped at a gasoline Mesa.
station to call up his brothers in Sta. Mesa, to tell
them what he had done and to warn them that “I can’t go back,” she moaned. “He’ll kill me! He’ll
Cabading would surely show up there. “Get Mother kill me!”
out of the house,” he told his brothers.
“He has cooled down now,” said Gene. “He
At about ten in the morning, a taxi stopped seems to be a reasonable man after all.”
before the Quitangon house in Sta. Mesa and Mrs.
Cabading got out and began screaming at the gate:
“Where’s my daughter? Where’s my daughter?”
H0045
“Oh, you don’t know him!” cried Lydia. “I’ve appeared only when summoned and vanished as
known him longer, and I’ve never, never been soon as she had done whatever was expected of
happy!” her.)
And the brothers at last had glimpses of the Cabading then announced that he no longer
girlhood she had been so reticent about. She told objected to Lydia’s moving out of the house to live
them of Cabading’s baffling changes of temper, with her husband in an apartment of their own.
especially, toward her; how smiles and fond words Overjoyed, the Quitangons urged Cabading to go
and caresses could abruptly turn into beatings when with them to Sta. Mesa so that the newlyweds could
his mood darkened. be reconciled with Lydia’s parents. Cabading readily
agreed.
Leonardo said that his father-in-law was an
artista. “Remember how he used to fan me when I When they arrived in Sta. Mesa, Lydia and
supped there while I was courting Lydia?” Leonardo were sitting on a sofa in the sala.
(At about that time in Sta. Mesa, Nonilo “Why have you done this?” her father chided her
Quitangon, on guard at the gate of his family’s gently. “If you wanted to move out, did you have to
house, saw Cabading drive past three times in a run away?” To Leonardo, he said: “And you, are
taxi.) you angry with me?”
“I can’t force you to go back,” said Gene. “You’ll Then he repeated his announcement that he was
have to decide that yourselves. But what actually all for letting the newlyweds set up house by
are you planning to do? You can’t stay forever here themselves. Gene Quitangon, felt so elated he
in Maragondon. What would you live on?” proposed a celebration. “I’ll throw a blow-out!
Everybody is invited! This is on me!” So they all
The two said they would talk it over for a while in went to Max’s in Quezon City and had a very merry
their room. Gene waited at the supper table and fried-chicken party. “Why, this is a family reunion!”
when a long time had passed and they had not laughed Cabading. “This should be on me!” But
come back, he went to the room. Finding the door Gene would not let him pay the bill.
ajar, he looked in: Lydia and Leonardo were on their
knees on the floor, saying the rosary. Gene Early the next morning, Cabading called up the
returned to the supper table. After another long Sta. Mesa house to say that his wife had fallen ill.
wait, the couple came out of the room. Would Lydia please visit her? Leonardo and Lydia
went to Zapote, found nothing mattered with her
Said Lydia: “We have prayed together and we mother and returned to Sta. Mesa. After lunch,
have decided to die together, we’ll go back with you Leonardo left for his classes. Then Cabading called
in the morning.” up again. Lydia’s mother refused to eat and kept
asking for her daughter. Would Lydia please drop in
They were back in Manila early the next day. again at the house on Zapote? Gene and Nonilo
Lydia and Leonardo went straight to the house in Quitangon said they might as well accompany Lydia
Sta. Mesa, where all their relatives and friends there and start moving out her things.
warned them not to go back to the house on Zapote
Street, as they had decided to do. Confused anew, When they arrived at the Zapote house, the
they went to the Manila police headquarters to ask Quitangon’s brothers were amused by what they
for advice, but the advice given seemed drastic to saw, Mrs. Cabading, her eyes closed, lay on the
them: summon Cabading and have it out with him in parlor sofa, a large towel spread out beneath her.
front of his superior officer. Leonardo’s father then “She has been lying there all day,” said Cabading,
offered to go to Zapote with Gene and Nonilo, to try “tossing restlessly, asking for you, Lydia.” Gene
to reason with Cabading. noted that the towel was neatly spread out and
didn’t look crumpled at all, and that Mrs. Cabading
They found him in good humor, full of smiles and was obviously just pretending to be asleep. He
hearty greetings. He reproached his balae for not smiled at the childishness of the stratagem, but
visiting him before. “I did come once,” dryly Lydia was past being amused. She went straight to
remarked the elder Quitangon, “but no one would her room, where they heard her pulling out drawers.
open the gate.” Cabading had his wife called. She While the Quitangons and Cabading were
came into the room and sat down. “Was I in the conversing, the supposedly sick mother slipped out
house that night our balae came?” her husband of the sofa and went upstairs to Lydia’s room.
asked her. “No, you were out,” she replied. Having
spoken her piece, she got out and left the room. Cabading told the Quitangons that he wanted
(On their various visits to the house on Zapote Lydia and Leonardo to stay there at the house on
Street, the Quitangons noticed that Mrs. Cabading
H0045
Zapote. “I thought all that was settled last night,” Gene sent a younger brother to inform the family
Gene groaned. lawyer and to alert the Makati police. Then he drove
like mad to Zapote. It was almost dark when he got
“I built this house for Lydia,” persisted Cabading, there. The house stood perfectly still, not a light on
“and this house is hers. If she and her husband inside. He watched it from a distance but could see
want to be alone, I and my wife will move out of no movement. Then a taxi drove up and out jumped
here, turn this house over to them.” Gene wearily Nonilo. He had telephoned from a gasoline station.
explained that Lydia and Leonardo preferred the He related what had happened.
apartment they had already leased.
He said that when he and Leonardo arrived at
Suddenly the men heard the clatter of a drawer the Zapote house, Cabading motioned Leonardo
falling upstairs. Gene surmised that it had fallen in a upstairs. Lydia is in her room. Leonardo went up.
struggle between mother and daughter. “Excuse Cabading gave Nonilo a cup of coffee and chatted
me,” said Cabading, rising. amiably with him. Nonilo saw Mrs. Cabading go up
to Lydia’s room with a glass of milk. A while later,
As he went upstairs, he said to the Quitangons they heard a woman scream, followed by sobbing.
over his shoulder? “Don’t misunderstand me. I’m “There seems to be trouble up there,” said
not going to ‘coach’ Lydia.” He went into Lydia’s Cabading and he went upstairs.
room and closed the door behind him.
Nonilo saw him enter Lydia’s room, leaving the
After a long while, Lydia and her father came out door open. A few moments later, the door was
of the room together and came down to the sala closed. Then Nonilo heard three shots. He stood
together. Lydia was clasping a large crucifix. There petrified, but when he heard a fourth shot he
was no expression on her face when she told the dashed out of the house, ran to a gasoline station
Quitangon boys to go home. “But I thought we were and called up Gene.
going to start moving your things out this afternoon,”
said Gene. She glanced at the crucifix and said it Nonilo pointed to the closed front gate; he was
was one of the first things she wanted taken to her sure he had left it open when he ran out. The
new home. “Just tell Narding to fetch me,” she said. brothers suspected that Cabading was lurking
somewhere in the darkness, with his gun.
Back in Sta. Mesa, Gene and Nonilo, had the
painful task of telling Leonardo when he phoned, Before them loomed the dark house, now so
that Lydia was back in the house on Zapote. “Why sinister and evil in their eyes. The upper storey that
did you leave her there?” cried Leonardo. “He’ll beat jutted forward, forming the house’s chief facade,
her up! I’m going to get her.” Gene told him not to bore a curious sign: “Dra. Lydia C. Cabading, Lady
go alone, to pass by the Sta. Mesa house first and Physician”. (Apparently, Lydia continued—or was
pick up Nonilo. Gene could not go along; he had to made—to use her maiden name.) Above the sign
catch a bus for Subic where he works. When was the garland of colored lights that had been put
Leonardo arrived, Gene told him: “Don’t force Lydia up for Christmas and had not yet been removed. It
to go with you. If she doesn’t want to leave at once. was an ice-cold night, the dark of the moon, but the
Do not, for any reason, be persuaded to stay there two brothers shivered not from the wind blowing
too.” down the lonely murky street but from pure horror of
the house that had so fatally thrust itself into their
When his brother had left for Zapote, Gene lives.
realized that he was not sure he was going to
Subic. He felt too worried. He knew he couldn’t rest But the wind remembered when the sighs it
easy until he had seen Lydia and Leonardo settled heard here were only the sighing of the ripe grain,
in their new home. The minutes quickly ticked past when the cries it heard here were only the crying of
as he debated with himself whether he should stay birds nesting in the reeds, for all these new suburbs
or catch that bus. Then, at about a quarter to seven, in Makati used to be grassland, riceland,
the phone rang. It was Nonilo in anguish. marshland, or pastoral solitudes where few cared to
go, until the big city spilled hither, replacing the
“Something terrible has happened in Lydia’s uprooted reeds with split-levels, pushing noisy little
room! I heard four shots,” he cried. streets into the heart of the solitude, and collecting
here from all over the country the uprooted souls
“Who are up there?” that now moan or giggle where once the carabao
wallowed and the frogs croaked day and night. In
“Lydia and Narding and the Cabadings.” very new suburbs, one feels human sorrow to be a
gross intrusion on the labors of nature. Even barely
“I’ll be right over.” two years ago, the talahib still rose man-high on the

H0045
plot of ground on Zapote Street where now stands Sprawled face up on his daughter’s bed, his
the relic of an ambiguous love. mouth agape and his eyes bulging open as though
still, staring in horror and the bright blood, splashed
As the Quitangon brothers shivered in the on his face, lay Pablo Cabading.
darkness, a police van arrived and unloaded, quite
a large contingent of policemen. The Quitangons “Oh, I cursed him!” cries Eugenio Quitangon with
warned them that Cabading had a submachinegun. passion. “Oh, I cursed him as he lay there dead,
The policemen crawled toward the front gate and God forgive me! Yes, I cursed that dead man there
almost jumped when a young girl came running on that bed, for I had wanted to find him alive!”
across the yard, shaking with terror and shrieking
gibberish. She was one of the maids. She and her From the position of the bodies and from Mrs.
companion and the foster-son had fled from the Cabading’s statements later at the hospital, it
house when they heard the shooting and had been appears that Cabading shot Lydia, while she was
hiding in the yard. It was they who had closed the shielding her husband, and Mrs. Cabading when
front gate. she tried to shield Lydia. Then he turned the gun on
himself, and it’s an indication of the man’s
A policeman volunteered to enter the house uncommon strength and power that after the first
through the back door; Gene said he would try the shot, through the right side of the head, which must
front one. He peered in at a window and could have been mortal enough, he seems to have been
detect no one in the sala. He slipped a hand inside, able, as his hand dropped to his breast, to fire at
opened the front door and entered, just as the himself a second time. The violent spasm of agony
policeman came in from the kitchen. As they crept must have sent the gun—a .45 caliber pistol—flying
up the stairs, they heard a moaning in Lydia’s room. from his hand. It was found at the foot of the bed,
They tried the door but it was blocked from inside. near Mrs. Cabading’s feet.
“Push it, push it,” wailed a woman’s voice. The
policemen pushed the door hard and what was The drama of the jealous father had ended at
blocking it gave. He groped for the switch and about half-past six in the evening, Tuesday last
turned on the light. As they entered, he and Gene week.
shuddered at what they saw.
The next day, hurrying commuters slowed down
The entire room was spattered with blood. On and a whispering crowd gathered before 1074
the floor, blocking the door, lay Mrs. Cabading. She Zapote Street, to watch the police and the reporters
had been shot in the chest and stomach but was going through the pretty little house that Pablo
still alive. The policeman tried to get a statement Cabading built for his Lydia.
from her but all she could say was: “My hand, my
hand—it hurts!” She was lying across the legs of
her daughter, who lay on top of her husband’s body. *A film directed by Mike De Leon, Kisapmata—based on the
Lydia was still clutching an armful of clothes; short story—was shown in 1981 starring Vic Silayan as the
father, Mang Dadong Carandang; Charito Solis as the
Leonardo was holding a clothes hanger. He had mother, Aling Dely; Charo Santos as the daughter, Mila; and
been shot in the breast; she in the heart. They had Jay Ilagan as her husband, Noel Manalansan. It won a total
died instantly, together. of 8 Gawan Urian Awards and received 1 FAMAS award
nomination.
“New Yorker in Tondo” (New Yorker sa Tondo) is a classic satirical play in one-act written by
Marcelino Agana, Jr. in 1958. It was first staged by the Far Eastern University Drama Guild in
Manila and has become popular since, having been produced many times through the years.
New Yorker in Tondo (play)

by Marcelino Agana, Jr.
CHARACTERS: TONY—a simple guy and Kikay’s childhood

sweetheart; he decides to visit her to catch
KIKAY—a newly arrived “balikbayan” from New things up.
York; she has acquired the style, manner, and
culture of America. NENA—a tomboyish girl and Kikay’s childhood
friend; she finds her different and weird.
ALING ATANG/MRS. M—Kikay’s mother; carried
away by her daughter’s way of living, she tries to TOTOY—a tough Tondo “kanto boy” who has a
converse with everybody in (broken) English. secret love for Nena.

H0045
PLACE: lipstick! All my kumares are laughing. People

think I’m a loose woman because of my age. But
A small house in Tondo, Manila I can’t do anything because it’s hard to argue
with Kikay. And she insists that I should look like
SCENE 1 an Americana.
MRS. M: Visitors, always visitors, nothing but TONY: You just look wonderful, and where is she
visitors all day long. I’m beginning to feel like a now?
society matron… [opens the door] Tony! I
thought you were in the province. MRS. M: Who?
TONY: Is that you Aling Atang? TONY: Kikay? Is she at home?
MRS. M: Of course. It’s I, foolish boy. Why? MRS. M: She’s still sleeping!
TONY: You don’t look like Aling Atang. TONY: Still sleeping?
MRS. M: I had a haircut. Think it’s horrible? MRS. M: She says, in New York, people don’t wake
up until 12:00 noon.
TONY: Oh, no, no… You just look wonderful. Aling
Atang, for a moment there I thought you were TONY: It’s only 10:00 now.
Kikay.
MRS. M: Besides, she’s busy since she came
MRS. M: Oh, you are so palikero as ever, Tony. But home. Welcome parties here and there. Visitors
come in. Here, sit down. How is your mother? all day long. She’s spinning like a top.
TONY: Poor mother. She is homesick for Tondo. TONY: Well, will you tell her I called to welcome
She wants to come back here at once. her. And kindly give her these flowers.
MRS. M: How long have you been away? MRS. M: But surely you’re not going yet?
TONY: Only three months. TONY: I did want to see Kikay. But if she doesn’t
get up at 12:00 noon…
MRS. M: Only three months! It’s too long for a
Tondo native to be away from Tondo. My poor MRS. M: Wait a minute, I’ll go and wake her up.
kumare. She must be bored out there.
TONY: Please don’t bother Aling Atang. I can come
TONY: Well, you know, we engineers are always on back some other time.
call. But as soon as I finish the bridge in
Bulacan, we’ll be going here in Tondo. MRS. M: Wait right here. She’ll simply be delighted
to see her childhood friend. The flowers are
MRS. M: Yes, must bring her back as soon as beautiful. How expensive they must be.
possible. We miss her when we play mahjong.
TONY: Oh, they’re nothing at all, Aling Atang.
TONY: That is what she misses most of all.
MRS. M: Oh, Tony…
MRS. M: I understand. Once a Tondo girl always a
Tondo girl. I wonder if that fits my Kikay, TONY: Yes Aling Atang?
because after a year in America, she says she’s
not homesick at all. MRS. M: You mustn’t call me “Aling Atang”.
TONY: When did Kikay arrive Aling Atang? TONY: Why not?
MRS. M: Last Monday. MRS. M: Kikay says that it’s more civilized to call
me “Mrs. Mendoza”.
TONY: I didn’t know it ‘till I read it in the newspaper.
TONY: Yes Aling… I mean, yes, Mrs. Mendoza.
MRS. M: That girl only arrived last Monday and look
what happened to me! She dragged me to the MRS. M: Wait a minute and I’ll call Kikay.
parlor. My hair was cut, eyebrows shaved, nails
manicured. And when I go to the market, I use TONY: Huh?
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MRS. M: Oh! And Tony… TOTOY: Tony, I’ve been hearing the most frightful
things about that girl.
TONY: Yes, Aling… I mean, Mrs. Mendoza?
TONY: So have I.
MRS. M: You must not call her Kikay.
TOTOY: People say she has gone crazy.
TONY: And what shall I call her?
TONY: No, she has only gone to New York.
MRS. M: You must call her “Francesca”.
TOTOY: What was she doing in New York anyway?
TONY: Francisca?
TONY: Oh, studying.
MRS. M: Not Francisca… Fran-CES-ca.
TOTOY: Studying what?
TONY: But why Francesca?
TONY: Hair culture and Beauty Science. She got a
MRS. M: Because in New York, she says that’s the diploma.
way they pronounce her name. It sounds like
“chi-chi”, so Italian. Be sure to call her Francesca TOTOY: Imagine that! Our dear old Kikay!
and not Kikay.
TONY: Pardon me, she’s not Kikay anymore. She’s
TONY: Yes, Mrs. Mendoza. Fran-CES-ca.
MRS. M: Now, wait right here while I call TOTOY: Fran-CES-ca?

Francesca… [door bell rings] Ay! Dios mio!
TONY: Our dear Kikay is now an American.
TONY: Never mind, Mrs. Mendoza, I’ll answer it.
TOTOY: Don’t make me laugh! Why, I knew that girl
MRS. M: Just tell them to wait, Tony. when she’s still selling rice cakes. Puto kayo
dyan! Bili na kayo ng puto mga suki!
SCENE 2
TONY: Remember when we pushed her into the
TOTOY: Tony! canal?
TONY: Totoy! TOTOY: She chased us around the streets.
TOTOY: Anak ka ng tatay mo! TONY: She was dripping with mud!
TONY: Ikaw kalabaw ka! TOTOY: Naku! How that girl could fight!
TOTOY: Mayroon ba tayo dyan? SCENE 3
TONY: You ask me that… and you look like a [Nena arrives at the house.]
walking goldmine! [points to Totoy’s jewelry] How
many depots have you been looting, huh? NENA: Why, Totoy?
TOTOY: Hey, hey! More slowly there. It is you the TOTOY: Nena, my love.
police are looking for.
NENA: And Tony, too… What’s all this? A kanto
TONY: Impossible! I’m a reformed character! Come boy reunion?
in, Totoy.
TOTOY: We have come to greet the Lady from New
TOTOY: Okay, Tony. York.
TONY: Good to see you old pal. Here, have a NENA: So have I. Is she at home?
smoke.
TONY: Aling Atang is trying to wake her up.
TOTOY: I thought you were in the province, partner.
NENA: To wake her up? Is she still sleeping?
TONY: I am. I just came to say hello to Kikay.
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MRS. M: No, she’s awake already. She’s dressing. TONY: This is what I get from being honest!
Good morning, Nena and Totoy.
NENA: Honest? Making me fall for you when you’re
MRS. M: Well, Totoy? Nena? Why are you staring still in love and engaged with Kikay!
at me like that?
TONY: I thought I didn’t belong to Kikay anymore.
NENA: Is that you, Aling Atang? It’s only a secret engagement anyway. I
proposed to her before she left for America. But
TOTOY: Good God, it is Aling Atang! when she stopped answering my letters, I
considered myself a free man again.
MRS. M: It’s Kikay who prefers it.
NENA: And so you proposed to me.
NENA: How you used to pinch and pinch me, Aling
Atang, when I was a little girl. TONY: Yes.
MRS. M: Because you were all naughty, especially NENA: Then, you tell me to keep it a secret!
you! Always sneaking into our backyard for
mangoes. TONY: Because I found out that Kikay was coming
back.
TOTOY: Do you still have that mango tree?
NENA: I’m tired of being secretly engaged to you!
MRS. M: Yes. Come and help me carry something
from the kitchen. TONY: Just give me a chance to explain to Kikay.
Then we’ll tell them.
NENA: Aling Atang, don’t you prepare anything for
us. We’re not visitors. NENA: Well, you better hurry. I’m getting impatient.
MRS. M: It’s only orange juice. I am preparing some TONY: How can I talk to Kikay?
for Kikay.
NENA: Why not?
NENA: Well. Tony…
TONY: Because you’re here, and also Totoy. I don’t
TONY: You shouldn’t have come today, Nena. want to jilt Kikay in front of everybody.
NENA: Oh, why not? NENA: You want Totoy and me to clear out?
TONY: I haven’t talked with Kikay yet. TONY: No, just give me a chance to be alone with
Kikay for a moment…
NENA: Not yet! I thought you said it last night.
NENA: I’ll take care of Totoy.
TONY: I lost my nerve.
TONY: That’s good.
NENA: Oh Tony, Tony!
NENA: Just leave it to me.
TONY: Use your head, Nena. It’s not easy breaking
off an engagement with a girl…or with Kikay for SCENE 4
God’s sake!
[Kikay appears with one hand dangling a large
NENA: Are you in love with Kikay or with me? handkerchief—which she keeps waving as she
walks—and a long cigarette holder in the other.]
TONY: Of course, with you! I’m engaged with you.
TOTOY: Puto kayo dyan! Bili na kayo…
NENA: Yes, and with Kikay too!
MRS. M: Here comes Kikay. But she wants to be
TONY: That was a year ago! Nena, you know how called Francesca.
much I love you.
KIKAY: Nena my dear… But how cute you have
NENA: How could you ask me to marry if you’re still become. And Tony, my little pal from the kanto.
engaged with Kikay! How are you? And Totoy…my, how ravishing!
Goodness! You look like a Tondo Super
H0045
Production in Technicolor! But sit down TOTOY: And she’s still there…in her dreams.
everybody and let me look at you. Oh mumsy!
KIKAY: Yes, I feel as if I was still there, as though I
MRS. M: What’s the matter now? had never left it, as though I lived there all my
life. But I look around me and I realize that no,
KIKAY: How many times must I tell you, never to no, I’m not there. I’m not in New York. I’m at
serve fruit juices in water glasses? home. But which is home for me? This cannot be
home, because here, my heart aches with
MRS. M: I couldn’t find those tall glasses you homesickness.
brought home.
NENA: I don’t think we ought to be here at all.
KIKAY: Oh, poor little mumsy. She is so clumsy
noh? But never mind, don’t break your heart TONY: Yes, we shouldn’t disturb her.
about it. Here, sit down.
TOTOY: Let’s all just walk out very, very quietly.
MRS. M: No, I must be going to the market.
NENA: And leave her alone with her memories.
KIKAY: Oh, don’t forget my celery. I can’t live
without it. I’m like a rabbit…munch all day. TONY: Is that the girl we used to go swimming with
in the mud puddles?
MRS. M: Well, if you people will excuse me. Tony,
remember me to your mother. KIKAY: Ah, New York, my own dear New York…
KIKAY: And remember, a little bloom on the lips, a NENA: Totoy, will you come with me.
little bloom on the cheeks. [referring to lipstick
and blush on before going out] Say mwah, TOTOY: Yes, my love. To the ends of the earth!
mwah…
NENA: No darling, just out to our dear little
MRS. M: Do I have to, Kikay? backyard.
KIKAY: Ah-ah-ah. Again, mumsy? TOTOY: Oh, the backyards of Tondo, the barong-
barongs of Mypaho, the streets of Sibakong.
MRS. M: Do I have to paint this old face of mine?
Francesca, what am I going to do with you? NENA: Listen, idiot! Are you coming with me or
not?
KIKAY: But how dreadfully you put it. Oh mumsy,
what am I going to do with you? TOTOY: Anywhere, dream girl. Anywhere at all!
Anywhere but here…
MRS. M: I give up!
SCENE 5
KIKAY: Poor mumsy. How pathetic! [brings out a
cigarette] Oh, does anybody have a light? KIKAY: Apparently, our Totoy still has a most
terrific crush on Nena. Poor boy… Do wake up,
[Totoy brings out a lighter and lights Kikay’s Tony. What are you looking so miserable about?
cigarette.]
TONY: Kikay, I don’t know how to begin.
KIKAY: Merci!
KIKAY: Just call me Francesca. That’s a good
TOTOY: What? beginning.
KIKAY: I said, merci. That means “thank you” in TONY: There is something I must tell you…
French. something very important.
TOTOY: Oh! Merci… KIKAY: Oh, Tony, can’t we just forget all about it?
NENA: Tell us about New York. TONY: Forget?
TONY: How long did you stay there? KIKAY: That’s the New York way, Tony. Forget.
Nothing must ever be too serious. Nothing must
KIKAY: 10 months, 4 days, 7 hours and 21 drag on too long. Tonight, give all your heart;
minutes.
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tomorrow, forget. And when you meet again, NENA: What’s all this?
smile, shake hands…just good sports.
KIKAY: Nothing…nothing at all.
TONY: What are you talking about?
TOTOY: What were you two quarrelling about?
KIKAY: Tony, I was only a child at that time.
KIKAY: We were not quarrelling. Tony and I just
TONY: When? decided to be good friends and nothing more.
KIKAY: When you and I got engaged. I’ve changed NENA: Tony, is it true?
so much since then, Tony.
TONY: Yes!
TONY: That was only a year ago.
NENA: Now, we can tell them!
KIKAY: To me, it seems a century. So much had
happened to me. More can happen to you in just KIKAY: Tell us what?
one year in New York.
TOTOY: What’s going on here?
TONY: Listen, I don’t want to talk about New York. I
want to talk about our engagement. NENA: Tony and I are engaged!
KIKAY: And that’s what we cannot do Tony. Not KIKAY: Engaged!

anymore.
TOTOY: Engaged? Engaged!
TONY: Why not?
NENA: Yes! We’ve been secretly engaged for a
KIKAY: Tony, you got engaged to a girl named month!
Kikay. Well, that girl doesn’t exist anymore.
She’s dead. The person you see before you is KIKAY: A month!? Why you…you…
Francesca. Don’t you see, Tony? I’m a stranger
to you. I hate to hurt you, but surely you see that TONY: I did try to tell you, Kikay. I was trying to tell
there can be no more talk of an engagement you…
between us. Imagine, a New York girl, marrying
a Tondo boy! It’s so insane! KIKAY: You unspeakable cad!
TONY: Now look here! NENA: Hey, carefully there! You’re speaking of my
fiancé.
KIKAY: I’m sorry if I’ve hurt you, Tony.
KIKAY: He’s not your fiancé!
TONY: I’m not going to sit here and be insulted.
NENA: Oh, no? And why not, huh?
KIKAY: Hush, Tony! Hush! Don’t shout, don’t lose
your temper. It’s so uncivilized. People in New KIKAY: Because he was still engaged to me when
York don’t lose their temper. he got engaged to you!
TONY: What do you want me to do? Smile, say NENA: Well, he’s not engaged to you anymore.
thank you for slapping my face? Wow, merci You just said it yourself.
madam!
KIKAY: Ah, but I didn’t know about all this.
KIKAY: Yes, Tony. Be a sport, let’s smile and
shake hands, and be just friends, huh? TONY: Now remember, Kikay, it’s so uncivilized to
lose one’s temper. People in New York don’t
TONY: If you weren’t a woman, I’d… I’d… lose their temper.
SCENE 6 KIKAY: I’ve never felt so humiliated in all my life!

You beast, I’ll teach you!
[Totoy and Nena return to the house.]
NENA: I told you to leave him alone. He’s my
TOTOY: Hold it Tony. You must never, never hit a fiancé!
woman.
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KIKAY: And I tell you he’s not! He’s engaged to me TOTOY: Are you still engaged to him?
until I release him…and I haven’t released him
yet. NENA: I hate him! I never want to see him again in
my life!
NENA: You ought to be ashamed of yourself!
You’re just being a dog in the manger! TOTOY: Good! Come on, and let’s go!
KIKAY: You ought to be ashamed of yourself! TONY: Hey!

Stealing my man behind my back!
NENA: Don’t you speak to me, you brute!
NENA: What? What did you say?
TONY: I wasn’t talking to you!
TONY: Totoy, pull them apart!
TOTOY: Don’t you speak to me either! You have
KIKAY: You keep out of this or I’ll knock your head insulted the woman I love!
off!
NENA: Oh, Totoy, why have you never told me?
TOTOY: Naku! Lumabas din ang pagka-Tondo!
TOTOY: Well, now you know.
NENA: Shameless hussy!
TONY: Congratulations!
KIKAY: Man-eater!
NENA: Let’s go darling. I don’t want the smell
[Kikay hits Nena, but Nena hits her harder—like a around here.
man.]
SCENE 7
TONY: How dare you punch her? [turning to Nena]
[Totoy and Nena leaves the house.]
NENA: She hit me first!
TONY: Now, you’ve ruined my life! I hope you’re
TONY: Look what you’ve done to her! satisfied.
NENA: Are you trying to defend her? You never KIKAY: I..have ruined your life? You..ruined mine!
defended me!
TONY: What you need is a good spanking!
TONY: Shut up!
KIKAY: Don’t you come near me, you…you kanto
NENA: I hate you! I hate you! boy!
TONY: Shut up or I’ll bash your mouth off! TONY: Don’t worry, I wouldn’t touch you even with
a ten-foot pole.
TOTOY: Hey, don’t you talk to Nena that way.
KIKAY: And I wouldn’t touch you with a twenty-foot
TONY: You keep out of this! pole.
NENA: He’s more of a gentleman than you are. He TONY: Just one year in New York and you forgot
defends me! [referring to Totoy] your old friends.
TOTOY: You take your hands off her! KIKAY: Just one year that I’m in New York…and
what did you do? But when we got engaged, you
TONY: I told you to keep out of this! swore to be true, you promised to wait for me.
And I believed you! Oh, you’re so fickle…so
NENA: Oh, Totoy, you’ve saved my life… fickle… [sobs then cries]
[embraces Totoy]
TONY: What are you crying about? Be brave…
KIKAY: Tony! Tony, open your eyes! forget… That’s the New York way. Nothing must
ever be too serious, nothing must ever drag on
TONY: Oh, get away from her! for too long.
NENA: Take me away from here! KIKAY: Oh Tony, please… Please!
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TONY: Besides, there could be no more talk of an TONY: Why didn’t you answer my letters?
engagement between us. Imagine a New York
girl marrying a Tondo boy! KIKAY: Francesca wouldn’t let me write, Tony.
KIKAY: Oh Tony, I’ve been such a fool… I’m sorry, TONY: That nasty girl. I’m glad she’s dead!
Tony…
MRS. M: Frances- Oh, Tony, are you still here?
TONY: Well, I’m not! I’m glad I found out what kind Francesca, don’t be angry but I couldn’t find any
of a person you are! celery…
KIKAY: Oh Tony, you’re wrong, you’re wrong! I’m KIKAY: Oh, never mind, Inay. I hate celery!
not that kind of person at all.
MRS. M: Hate celery? Why? You said, you couldn’t
TONY: Oh. “Person” is just a relative name, huh? live without it!
KIKAY: Yes Tony, that was Francesca saying all TONY: That was Francesca, Aling Atang, and
that. But Francesca exists no more, Tony. The Francesca is dead. The girl standing before you
girl standing before you now…is Kikay. is Kikay!
TONY: In that silly dress? MRS. M: But Kikay is Francesca…
KIKAY: Oh this is just a gift wrapping, Tony. KIKAY: Oh, no, Inay. I’m not Francesca… I’m
Kikay!
TONY: Well, well, well…
MRS. M: I give up!
KIKAY: It’s true, Tony. I’m Kikay…remember me?
[a tune plays in the background: Frank Sinatra’s
TONY: If I remember it right, I was right. I was “New York, New York”]
engaged to a girl named Kikay.
KIKAY: That tune! What memories it brings back! I
KIKAY: Yes, and you’re still engaged to her Tony! first heard it in New York, at Eddie Candon’s…
TONY: Welcome home Kikay! How was the trip? TONY: Uh-oh…
KIKAY: Horrible! I couldn’t wait to get back. KIKAY: Sorry darling. May I have this dance with
you partner?
TONY: Like it in New York?
TONY: Delighted, madam, delighted…
KIKAY: Uh-uh! Give me a Tondo anytime!
BIENVENIDO LUMBERA
Born in Lipa, Batangas in 1932, Lumbera is one of the pillars of contemporary Philippine
literature and cultural studies, having written numerous books and anthologies on poetry, literary
history, criticism, and film. The multi-awarded writer was barely a year old when his father died.
A few years later, his mother also died so that by the age of five, Lumbera was an orphan, left to
the care of his paternal grandmother and then (when she died after the war), his godparents who
had no children—he was barely fourteen at the time.
Lumbera finished a degree in journalism and M.A., from the University of Santo Tomas in
1950, and then his Ph.D. in Comparative Literature in the U.S. in 1967.
At the height of Martial Law, he was arrested by the military in 1974 and released after a year.
Lumbera took on other creative projects like the writing of librettos for musical theater. Initially,
the Philippine Educational Theater Association (PETA) requested him to create a musical based
on Carlos Bulosan’s novel America Is in the Heart.
H0045
In 1977, he served as editor of the Diliman Review, a publication that was openly against the
Marcos dictatorship. For a time, he also served as president of the Alliance of Concerned
Teachers (ACT), a national organization of teachers and employees in the education sector.
After winning numerous literary awards, including the National Book Awards, the Carlos
Palanca Memorial Awards, and the Ramon Magsaysay Award for Journalism/Literature among
others, Lumbera was proclaimed National Artist in 2006.
A Eulogy of Roaches (poem, 1965)

by Bienvenido Lumbera
Blessed are the cockroaches. They settle where they wish

In this country they are and have no rent to pay.
the citizens who last. Eviction is a word
They need no police quite meaningless to them
to promulgate their peace who do not have to own
because they tolerate their dingy crack of wall
each other’s smell or greed.
Not knowing death or taxes,
Friends to dark and filth, they increase and multiply.
they do not choose their meat. Survival is assured
Although they neither sow even the jobless roach:
nor reap, a daily feast his opportunities
is laid for them in rooms pile up where garbage grows.
and kitchens for their pick.
Dying is brief and cheap
The roaches do not spin and neither do they weave. and thus cannot affright
But note the russet coat A whiff of toxic mist,
the sluggards wear: clothed an agile heel, a stick
at birth, roaches require —the swift descent of pain
no roachy charity. is also final death.
The Filipino Writer and His Audience (essay, part 1 of 2)

Literature as a good that should be made tendency to make of his art a commodity geared to
available to as many people as possible is a cause the need of the market. The situation is further
that no longer needs vociferous advocacy. Our abetted by audience fragmentation resulting from
educational system has institutionalized this cause the division of labor under an industrialized
by including the study of literature in the school economy. Properly speaking, in such society, the
curriculum. writer has audiences rather than an audience,
pockets of readership whose separate demands on
There is a contradiction, however, that seems to his art tend to cancel one another out. Buffeted by
have been ignored for years in the way we teach the conflicting demands of his potential audiences,
literature. On the one hand is the assumption that it is not surprising that writers would disavow any
literature is good for the audience, and on the other, intentions of catering to a faceless mass whose
the assumption that good literature need not have values they do not share and which is much too
an audience. This has led to a situation whereby the amorphous for any single writer to fully satisfy.
writer is told to create regardless of his audience, Thus, the phenomenon of hermitism among
and the audience is asked to hold in regard the Western artists reacting against socio-economic
writer who disregards it. Thus, students are told that forces that would compel them to seek a market
literature is for the likes of them at the same time that can be tapped only by those who are willing to
that they are taught that the writer does not have level their product at the theoretical reader who
any need for them. belongs to the lowest common denominator. The
fierce individualism manifests in the art of such
In highly industrialized societies, such a situation writers as Paul Valery of France, James Joyce of
is tolerated, indeed encouraged, in order to mollify Ireland, and Wallace Stevens of America, to be
the artist who is always apt to rebel against any properly understood and appreciated, must be seen
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against their common background in the cultural may be traced to the introduction by colonial
wilderness of highly industrialized societies. education of a concept of art that had its roots in the
West at the turn of the century. Reacting to the
The Alienation of Literature dehumanizing effects of industrialization, artists
throughout the nineteenth century had begun to see
In a country like the Philippines, the prevalence themselves as isolated from a “world they never
of the Western attitude toward art and audience is made.” Insistence on the personality of the artist
one of the ill consequences of the imposition on the widened the gap between art and audience, until art
minds of the intelligentsia of cultural assumptions without an audience began to loom large as the
derived from conditions in highly industrialized purer, higher form of artistic achievement. Mass
societies. Urged on by its class affiliations, the distribution of printed matter at this historical
intelligentsia has adopted the lifestyle of Spanish juncture had made publishing a profitable industry,
and American colonizers. Because it is the most and the writer, aware of encroachment of
articulate sector in society, it has contributed, commerce on his art, sought to demarcate writing of
through school and media, in making the anomalies art from writing for a mass audience. Writing for a
in our cultural life seem normal. Acquiring literacy mass audience, with its commercial taint, was seen
under the educational system set up by the as a descent into the marketplace, certainly a
colonizers, our writers in particular learned to think demeaning of art.
and write as the thinkers they studied thought and
wrote. But this only explains the origins in the West of
the general distrust with which Filipino intellectuals,
Contemporary Philippine society has been especially those who are incorrigibly alienated from
graphically presented as a pyramid, of which the our cultural history, hold literature for the people. It
90% base is composed by farmers, workers and the is the task of nationalist literary historians and critics
unemployed. With their income level way below to locate the concept within the specific context of
what is universally acknowledged to be adequate to Philippine history. Guided by the developing
keep body and soul together, most Filipinos do not awareness that the Philippines belongs to the Third
have the education, much less the leisure, to World and that its cultural problems cannot be
appreciate literature produced according to Western divorced from their roots in our two encounters with
norms. When commentators on Philippine Literature colonialism, the intelligentsia will hopefully affirm in
remark on “relevance,” they are merely pointing out due time through praxis that, given the conditions in
the obvious, namely, that much of the writing our our society, literary works to be truly Filipino ought
writers have been doing hardly relates, if at all, to to be for the people.
the basic needs of its supposed audience. It ought
to be apparent that a good part of our literature has The Emergence of “Literary Artists”
been addressed to a minority that cannot claim to
represent the entire Filipino people. Anthropological research on pre-colonial
Philippine society indicates that early Filipinos had
But haven’t we always been taught that art not begun to see songs, tales and epics as products
addresses itself to the intellectual aristocracy of any of self-conscious, individual creators engaged in
society? This is precisely the issue. Art has not specialized work. Rather, they saw these works as
always been a property of the elite in society. In products of communal effort intimately related to
history, art had progressively narrowed down its their struggle for survival in an environment
audience as a given society moved toward a more populated by deities and spirits, both beneficent and
complex economic structure which fragmented hostile. The poet and the storyteller in those times
social components into specialized sectors. Under a were perhaps regarded as “special,” but never as
simple structure, art was a community affair at “specialists.” As far as the community was
which presided an artist or artists who did not see concerned, they were ordinary members who
themselves as separate from the audience that happened to possess skills with words in addition to
found pleasure or profit in their songs, poems or usual skills of any man eking a living from soil and
tales. The emergence of the artist as individual forest. These early “literary artists” drew their
came at a later stage, when the members of a subject matter from the day-to-day lives and
community had come to assume specialized roles concerns of the community, and thus the audience
necessary for the maintenance and growth of accepted them as verbalizers of their own fantasies.
society. This is the point of this digression into Thus, the “creations” of these “special” men and
anthropology—that art has not always been for an women could be edited and revised by other
elite, and one should not mistake the state into members of the community similarly endowed and
which art has evolved as its immutable nature. inclined. Since performance was the means by
which the songs, poems and tales were
Among Filipino intellectuals, the idea of a disseminated, even such sophisticated works of the
literature for the people is held in low repute. This imagination as the epics were within the reach of
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every member of the community regardless of age reputation the poem enjoyed among the disgruntled
or status. In such a setting, we find the purest intelligentsia that emerged a little less than fifty
manifestation of a literature for the people. years after the poem was published. It is clear
however, that by Baltazar’s time, the demarcation
Among the instruments of colonial control line between the writer and the people had been
brought by the Spanish conquistadores was the indelibly drawn. True to the tradition set by the
Roman alphabet. With its introduction, works earlier ladinos, Baltazar—through the footnotes in
composed for publication began to be considered Florante at Laura—was carefully to insist on being
as the only works worthy of the name “literature.” recognized as a man with specialized skills and
Consequently, the early Filipinos had to start from information that he did not want his audience to
scratch in creating “literature.” The first writers were miss.
indios who had been able to pick up the language of
the colonizers along with the Roman alphabet. Later in the nineteenth century, intellectuals who
These were the “Iadinos” who served as translators had learned Spanish well enough to make it a
for the missionaries and the colonial officials. medium of expression prescinded from any
consideration of reaching all of the people. They
The writings of Fernando Bagongbanta, Pedro knew they could reach only a limited audience of
Suarez de Ossorio, Felipe de Jesus, and Gaspar fellow native intellectuals and Spanish liberals. With
Aquino de Belen appeared in books published by this given limitation, they sought to use their writing
the religious orders, and expectedly their subject to bring about reform in colonial policy and
matter distinguished their works from pre-colonial administration. Having grown up and obtained their
literary art. education when this colonial society was in its Iate
stages of decay, they made what they witnessed as
The ladinos celebrated the truths of the Faith individuals and as a class the subject of their works.
brought over from Europe by the colonial masters, In the writings of the ilustrados in the Propaganda
the beliefs of the new religion meant to supplant the Movement, the re-entry of the life of the people in
pagan religions of the indios. By a double stroke, Philippine Literature took place, although in a
the writer was thus set off from the majority of the language that was not generally accessible.
people. The Roman alphabet—only a select few However, in the Tagalog poems of Marcelo H. del
were able to master it—and the Christian religion— Pilar and in the unfinished Tagalog novel by Jose
only a minority fully internalized its doctrines—set Rizal, we find ilustrados addressing natives in their
up twin barriers between writers and the people. own language about conditions that were part of
Under this condition, the writer as a man with their experience as a colonized people. This
specialized skills and information began to emerge approach was to be adopted by the literary figures
in the first century-and-a-half of Spanish rule. in the Revolution of 1896, and was to win the
Katipunan more adherents to its cause.
In the next century-and-a-half, secular content
was to enter written literature. Plots and characters The Philippine Revolution restored, if only for a
of medieval Spanish ballads were imported into very brief while, literature to the people. The poems
poetry and drama by native writers. Most of the of Andres Bonifacio and the essays of Emilio
works produced circulated only through Jacinto are only a handful of pieces that saw print
performance, in this manner reaching a wide from this period, but they suffice to show that such
audience. Nevertheless, the plays of Jose de la restoration indeed happened. Written by men
Cruz and Francisco Baltazar and the awit and involved in the struggle of the people against their
korido of countless anonymous poets, even as colonial masters, revolutionary literature—written
these were accepted enthusiastically by audiences, and oral—used a language that could reach down
maintained the distance between writer and people to the masses, drawing its subject matter from the
earlier created by the Roman alphabet and people’s anguish, resentment and will to fight. This
Christian content. Missing in these plays and is literature for the people as only a truly national
poems, after all, was the experience of actual life by crisis can forge it.
the people, which prior to the conquest was the
heart and soul of Philippine oral lore. When Spanish was employed by the
revolutionaries, as in the political essays of
It was against this background that Baltazar’s Apolinario Mabini and the poems of Fernando Ma.
only published work, Forante at Laura, stood out. In Guerrero and Jose Palma, the language of the
this poem about a pair of lovers in a kingdom that Propaganda Movement was employed by writers in
had been taken over by a usurping count, the thick of the Revolution to articulate the
contemporary audiences could not have failed to aspirations not merely of an elite class but of the
read their own experience of oppression under masses of people in revolt against Spain. But the
foreign rule, no matter how obtusely the poet had period between 1896 and 1898 was all too brief a
alluded to it. This much we can gather from the time for a more extensive development of a
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literature for the people to take place. Nevertheless, drama, fiction, and essay written in this language
the tradition established by the revolutionary writers were addressed to a college-educated audience
continued to flourish for a few more years under whose taste and views were “modern,” meaning
American colonial rule. The Philippine-American Americanized. As such, literature in English differed
War brought to the fore poets and dramatists like considerably from literature in Spanish during the
Aurelio Tolentino, Tomas Remigio, and Juan Abad, late nineteenth century which was highly
who continued to voice the people’s cry for politicalized. Philippine writing in English, tended by
freedom. However, the armed struggle against the American tutors in the early phases of its
new colonizers retreated to the countryside after development, hardly took an interest in politics and
1902, and a change in the spirit and content of cultivated instead the “art and craft” of literature.
writing began to become apparent after about a Then late in the 1930s came the Philippine Writers
decade of pacification through education. League. Fascism was on the march and writers
were being rallied to the defense of freedom and
Middle-Class Literature democracy. With an articulate theorist in Salvador
P. Lopez, the league called attention to the social
Writing in the vernacular flourished, burgeoned realities of the period, and its imprint on writing in
in fact, under the comparatively more liberal regime English may now be studies in the prize-winning
of the Americans. However, the language of the stories of Manuel E. Arguilla and the poems of R.
people was increasingly being used in literature that Zulueta da Costa. The outbreak of the Pacific War
ostensibly was for the entire nation but was actually in 1941 arrested an emerging trend towards deeper
beamed at a small but growing middle class. The commitment to victims of oppression in Philippine
rise of the weekly popular magazine provided an society. The Japanese, for obvious ideological
outlet for fiction and poetry, and literature became reasons wanted to discourage Filipinos from
available to a wide audience. The alleged demands continuing to write in English. When the war ended
of the market began to serve as a measure of in 1945, the thrust toward social consciousness in
acceptability of literary works seeking publication. the literature prior to the Pacific War found no new
Soft, sentimental tales about love lost and love advocates. New writing was heavily influenced by
regained, stuff which allowed readers a good cry or New Criticism from the U.S., and poems moved
temporary escape proved to be saleable items, and farther and farther away from the people.
by virtue of their broad reach, were instrumental in
molding public taste. Owned by upper class families To the incautious observer, mass circulation for
and manned by middle-class writers, popular vernacular publications containing literary works
magazines purveyed an outlook that was essentially was a sign that literature for the people was actively
“bourgeois” in its moral timidity and shifty politics. being created during the American Occupation. This
The most widely circulated and perhaps the most was not the case, however. Writing during that
typical was the Liwayway which, along with its period institutionalized middle class content in
subsidiaries in the major vernacular languages, set Philippine writing. Courtly love under a quasi-
the tone and character of popular vernacular modern veneer, authoritarianism cloaked as moral
literature in the decades before and after the Pacific rectitude, and conservatism masking as
War. moderateness—these were values that touched a
responsive chord among bourgeois readers, but
Writing in English was a fully developed branch they hardly had anything vital to do with the lives of
of Philippine writing toward the close of the 1930s; ordinary people. The clutch of socially conscious
English put within the reach of Filipino writers the works that stood out during this period was meager
vast storehouse of Western literature, which representation for writing that genuinely touched on
provided new models and themes. The poetry, the plight of the masses. (to be concluded)
Philippine vernacular poetry

Ang Guitara (The Guitar)
by Magdalena Jalandoni*
Ang nahut niyang magagmay nga daw bulawan Its slender strings that are bright as gold
kasili
Malulu kon mag-ambahan nga di sa punay Sing tenderly as a wild dove…
magdulag...
Sa takna sang kagab-ihon, ang tunog niyang hamili In the night hours, its elect voice
Daw taghoy nga ginatuaw sang balatyagon nga pili, Is like the plaint of a precious feeling,
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Daw hinay nga hibubun-ot sang nagtangis nga Like the slow sigh of a soul in tears…
kalag...
Kay ayhan sa kasingkasing sang gakuskos nga tag- For perhaps in the heart of the strummer
iya
May unay nga kasulub-on nga dili didto makakas, Lies a deep sorrow that cannot be undone,
Kay samtang nga naglanton ang tagsa ka nahut And as each single string is singing
niya
Wala sing dili mawili sa pagpamati sa iya, No one can help but listen, enchanted,
Wala sing dili bumatyag sing kasulub-on nga lakas. No one can help but feel the strong grieving.
*Magdalena Jalandoni-Gonzaga (1891-1978 in Jaro, Iloilo) was a Filipino feminist writer hailing from Western Visayas. She is now
remembered as one of the most prolific writers in the Hiligaynon dialect, having published many novels, compilations of poems
short stories, and plays. Her first novel was Ang Mga Tunoc Sang Isa Ca Bulac (The Thorns of a Flower), which was followed by
her childhood autobiography Ang Matam-is Kong Pagkabata (My Sweet Childhood). Jalandoni’s other famous works include
Anabella, Sa Kapaang Sang Inaway (In the Heart of War), Ang Dalaga sa Tindahan (The Young Woman in the Market), and Ang
Kahapon ng Panay (The Past of Panay).
Buri Ku King Abalu Mu (I Want You to Know)

by Amado Yuzon*
Buri cu abalu mu ngeni’t qng capilan pa man qng I want you to know now and forever that I love you
ica palsintan daca sucad ning bie cung ingatan; as much as I do my own life;
Icang musa ning pluma cung sasamba qng mal You are the muse of my pen which worships your
muag leguan, beauty,
Icang bie na ning pusu cung titibuc qng capalsintan; You are the life of my heart which throbs with love;
Tegulaling cu ngan queca caladua cu at catawan, I have dedicated my whole self, body and soul,
Anting tapat mung carame qng ligaya’t casaquitan; As your devoted companion in joy and in pain;
Buri cu qng abalu mung macanian dacang I want you to know that I love you in this way,
palsintan,
Capitlas daca qng bie cu’t batuin qng paintungulan. As a part of my life, as the star of my future.
*Amado Yuzon (1906-1979 in Guagua, Pampanga) was a Philippine academic, journalist, and writer. Among his edited journals are
Ing Catuliran and La Libertad, and his published verse collection Salitang Paca-Versu. From 1946 to 1949, Yuzon was a
member of the Philippine Congress, where he represented Pampanga.
An Higugma (Love)
by Iluminado Lucente*
Matahom nga mulayan han atong kasingkasing, Beautiful plaything of our heart,
Kay amo an kalipayan nga at’guin bibiniling It is the happiness that we are ever seeking
Nga kulaus nahatag hin mga katamisan, And though it seems to offer sweetness,
Balitaw ha adlaw gabi danay pag tinagisan. Yet there are days and nights when it makes us
weep.
Han aton kinabuhi amo ini an tuyo Of our life love is the reason
Kay kon waray higugma, waray man pagmayuyo; For if there is no love, neither is there joy;
Ugaring an higugma kay diri maparalit… But since love is not to be bought…
Linupad, linupad ngan diri na mabalik. Away it flew, away it flew, and it will nevermore
return.
*Iluminado Lucente (1883-1960 in Leyte) was a Filipino writer from Eastern Visayas, primarily writing poetry and drama. He is
considered by many as the most prolific writer in the Waray language. Amember of the Sanghiran San Binisaya ha Samar ug
Leyte (Academy of the Visayan Language of Samar and Leyte), his most famous work is the poem An Iroy nga Tuna (The
Motherland).
Luhang Mapait (Bitter Tears)

by Manuel Fuentebella*
Luhang mapait Bitter tears

An sakuyang kaulay-ulay Are with whom I converse
Kun dai ko ika nakikita When I do not see you
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Sa sakong kahampang, Before me.

Maski natuturog In my sleep
Sa ogma nangingitorogan And in joy I dream,
Pigtitios ko man giraray Yet I suffer
An simpil kan tionay The pang of the pains of
nin lipongaw. loneliness.
Madya mahamis na dahilan Come, sweet cause
kan sakong kasakilan Of my suffering,
Uya simo naghahalat an sakong Here awaiting you
kamogtakan. is my heart;
Madyata sarong Come,
pagkukundimanan for I shall sing
Sa linabyog nin duyan In the rocking of my hammock
An lawgon mong langitnon Of your heavenly face
ay maykabinian. so gently sweet.
*Manuel Fuentebella was a former Representative in the Philippine Legislature of the 1920s. He belongs tso the political
dynasty/clan dominating the province of Camarines Sur since the American period. One of his popular works is the poem An
Pana (The Arrow).
References:
Fernandez, D. (1989). “Panitikan: An Essay on Philippine Literature”. [essay]
Bookstore.
Rivera, N. & Sicat, M. (2004). Affirming the Filipino: An Anthology of Philippine Literature. Quezon City:
Emiluz Printing Industries, Inc.
Philippine Literature Portal http://panitikan.com.ph/ retrieved May 2009.
The Premier Digital Library of the Philippines. http://www.filipiniana.net/, retrieved May 2009.
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Contemporary Philippine Literature

Dictatorship and Martial Law, EDSA and People Power
• In 1964, the short-story anthology, Mga Agos sa Disyerto, brought Philippine fiction into the
age of modernism and social realism.
• Ferdinand Marcos became the 6th Philippine President in the 1965 polls. He was re-elected
for a 2nd term in 1969.
• Amidst student protests, Marcos declared Martial Law on September 21, 1972 as a prelude to
creating the New Society (Bagong Lipunan).
• Marcos curtailed press freedom and civil liberties, closed down Congress and media
establishments, and ordered the arrest of opposition leaders.
• Lualhati Bautista’s novel about martial law, Dekada ‘70, won the grand prize in the 1983
Palanca Awards and was made into a film in 2002.
• Protest literature
• Jose Lacaba’s compilation of on-the-spot news reports on the First Quarter Storm, Days of
Disquiet, Nights of Rage (1982), gave rise to literary journalism.
• In 1983, opposition leader Benigno “Ninoy” Aquino, Jr. was assassinated upon his return to
the country after a long period of exile in the U.S.
• Ninoy’s assassination caused a chain of events, leading to the People Power Revolution in
February 1986 at EDSA, removing Marcos from power.
• With freedom of speech and expression restored, Filipino writers continue to write poetry,
short stories, novels, and essays—whether socially committed or are personal in nature or
not.
The Filipino Writer and His Audience (essay, part 2 of 2)

Literature for the People In poetry, however, there was a drawing away
from social realities among the poets in the
It remains for the nationalist resurgence in the anthology Manlilikha in favor of cultivating themes
1960s to bring to the fore, in the consciousness of and techniques learned from contemporary
young writers, the necessity of directing their Western poets. As the decade neared its close, it
powers to the creation of literature for the people. was no longer simply language that had to be
In the early years of the decade, literature for the oriented to the people. The nationalist movement
people was understood as injecting into vernacular exposed social ills that cried out to be solved, and
literature the tradition set by the Philippine Writers the writer’s choice of techniques and subject matter
League among the pre-war English writers. It also had to be adjusted so the literature could not only
meant going back to the example set by Lope K. reach the masses but also motivate them to find an
Santos in the Tagalog novel and by Amado V. effective solution to their problems. The masses
Hernandez in Tagalog poetry. In fiction, the writers have never had the educational advantages of the
who contributed to the first edition of Agos sa middle and upper classes. Consequently, literature
Disyerto set the temper. Their works manifested intended for them called for a revision of laws of
social consciousness wedded to mastery of craft. artistic writing hitherto regarded as immutable.
Literature, if it was to be truly for the people would
History of Philippine Literature: Contemporary and Popular *Property of STI

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have to start at the level of the people, for only then Literature, in a society that komlks, television and
could communication take place between writer film have been dragging to look at rather than read,
and audience. It would also have to deal with life as would seem to have no future. The writer who is
the people experience it on their level, for only by made aware of the vast readership for komiks and
confronting them with the why’s and wherefore’s of the pervasiveness of television and film as sources
their condition would they be moved to change their of information and entertainment might indeed
lots. Sigwa, an anthology of short stories written despair of finding an audience in the future.
when the nationalist movement was in full swing, Decades from now, when the masses will have
mapped out a literature in transition from an attained a level of cultural development that would
apolitical, sometimes liberal, position to a partisan make them a vast reading public, will people
and activist stance. In the anthology, the more continue to read literature? Assuming that,the use
significant young writers strained against the formal of Pilipino as medium of instruction would upgrade
limitation of the short story in an anguished effort to the literateness of the people, would literature be
encompass the complex social realities they felt able to compete with komiks, television and film for
called upon to unfold. an audience?
Even writers in English could not insulate Serious writing will always have readers who will
themselves against the insistent call for turn to it for the insights that traditionally the printed
“relevance.” Some of the elderly and the middle- word has formulated for those who have the
aged among them tried their best to respond to the required ability and sensitivity. The writer has the
call, and came up with fiction that touched on the advantage of a medium that can be contemplated
issues of the times. Some of the younger ones many times over on the pages of a book or
shifted from English to Pilipino, and produced magazine. The words lie on the page and the writer
stories and poems that in execution and content has an extended opportunity to imprint on his
more than answered the need to relate to the reader every meaning and nuance distilled from
times. There were writers, however, who could not experience.
effect such a shift without reverting to the status of
amateurs in a new medium. The solution they In addition, the medium allows him to retain a
found was to change the perspective of their good part of this independence as creative artist.
creative work—they continued to address their Language being a medium that is as intimately his
middle-class audience but with the end of winning as the air that fills his lungs, the writer is given a
this audience over to cast their lot with the masses. wide latitude, for his wrestle with words and ideas
is an internal process that neither entrepreneurs
The declaration of Martial Law in 1972 deflected nor censors can effectively oversee. All this
the radicalizing thrust of literature for the people. assures the writer that even in a future dominated
Censorship and the resulting cautiousness of by komiks, television and film, there will be people
editorial policy among publications have served to who will go to his works for insights into man and
create the impression that, in vernacular and society. The commercialization of komiks,
English writing, a throwback to the complacent television and film by dream-vendors committed
1950s has taken place. The impression given by only to their self-aggrandizement works in favor of
unpublished manuscripts that are submitted to the the writer. For if in the foreseeable future, the same
various national literary contests is different. These class of dream-vendors will continue to fill these
manuscripts affirm that young writers have not media with frivolity, illusions and trivia, men who
abandoned the spirit of the nationalist movement, require more substance from art or entertainment
but are attempting to find under the given will always give the writer a reading.
limitations of martial rule an appropriate response
to the call for literature for the people. In these
contest entries one encounters all over again the
same anguish over poverty, oppression and
corruption, and the same grappling with form and
technique to make these an avenue to effective
communication between writer and audience.

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JOSE LACABA
Known more popularly as “Pete”, Jose Lacaba is an award-winning Filipino poet, author, screenwriter,
journalist, and translator. Born in Cagayan de Oro, he grew up in his mother’s hometown in Pateros with his
brother, Emmanuel “Eman” Lacaba—another poet, essayist, playwright, songwriter, and revolutionary who
was killed at the tender age of 27 by the military in 1976. Pete studied at the Ateneo de Manila University but
dropped out because of financial constraints.
His body of work spans 40 years of literary and journalistic effort, including such published works as Edad
Medya, Mga Kagila-gilalas na Pakikipagsapalaran (1979), Sa Daigdig ng Kontradiksyon (1991), Sa Panahon
ng Ligalig (1991), and Days of Disquiet, Nights of Rage (1982), his coverage and personal account of the First
Quarter Storm.
During the Martial Law years, Pete was arrested and imprisoned for two years for writing subversive poetry.
Among his screenwriting credits are Tatsulok (1998), Rizal sa Dapitan (1997), Segurista (1996), Eskapo: The
Serge Osmeña-Geny Lopez Story (1995), Orapronobis (1989), Victor Corpuz (1987), Bayan Ko: Kapit sa
Patalim (1984), Sister Stella L. (1984), Jaguar (1979), Masikip, Maluwang…Paraisong Parisukat (1977), and
The Passionate Strangers (1966).
Pete is also credited for Salinawit, a collection of translations/adaptations of English standards and hit
songs into Filipino. He is married to another multi-awarded writer and poet, Marra Lanot.
Halaw Kay Su Tung-P’o (From Su Tung-P’o)

by Jose Lacaba
Kung may ipapanganak When a boy is born

ang dasal ng pamilya the family’s prayer
karaniwa’y ganito: usually goes like this:
“Maging matalino sana.” “Let’s hope he’s smart.”
Sapagka’t ang buhay ko’y Since my own life’s

winasak ng talino, been wasted by wisdom,
gusto kong ang anak ko’y I want my child
lumaking tanga’t gago. to grow up stupid and dumb.
Sa gayon ay magiging And so he’ll grow

tahimik ang buhay niya, to live a quiet life
at sa kanyang pagtanda’y and when he’s older
maging senador pa. become a senator, who knows
The January 26 Confrontation: A Highly Personal Account (non-fiction, 1972)

by Jose Lacaba
from Days of Disquiet, Nights of Rage
IT WAS FIVE minutes past five in the afternoon, by them cared to listen to the President. They had
the clock on the Maharnilad tower, when I arrived at brought with them microphones and loudspeakers of
Congress. The President [Marcos] was already their own and they lent their ears to people they could
delivering his State of the Nation message: see, standing before them, on the raised ground that
loudspeakers on both sides of the legislative building leads to the steps of the legislative building, around
relayed the familiar voice and the equally familiar the flagpole, beneath a flag that was at half-mast.
rhetoric to anyone in the streets who cared to listen. There were, according to conservative estimates, at
In front of the building, massed from end to end of least 20,000 of them, perhaps even 50,000. Beyond
Burgos Drive, spilling over to the parking lot and the the fringes of this huge convocation stood the
grassy sidewalk that forms an embankment above the uniformed policemen, their long rattan sticks swinging
Mini golf course, were the demonstrators. Few of like clocks’ pendulums at their sides; with them were
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the members of the riot squad, wearing crash trees, ice cream and popsicle carts vied for attention
helmets, and carrying wicker shields. with small tables each laden with paper and
envelopes, an improvised cardboard mailbox, and a
I came on foot from the Luneta, which was as far sign that urged: “Write Your Congressman”. In this
as my taxi could go, and made straight for the outer circle of the demo, things were relatively quiet;
Congress driveway. A cop at the foot of the driveway but in the inner circle, nearer Congress, right below
took one look at my hair and waved me away, the mics, the militants were restless, clamorous,
pointing to the demonstrators beyond a row of white chanting their slogans, carrying the streamers that
hurdles. When I pointed to the special press badge bore the names of their organizations, waving
pinned to the breast pocket of my leather jacket, he placards (made out of those controversial Japanese-
eyed me suspiciously, but finally let me through the made calendars the administration gave away during
cordon sanitaire. The guard at the door of Congress the campaign) that pictured the President as Hitler,
was no less suspicious, on guard against intruders the First Couple as Bonnie and Clyde.
and infiltrators, and along the corridors it seemed that
every man in uniform tightened his grip on his carbine There were two mics, taped together; and this may
as I passed by and strained his eyes to read the fine sound frivolous, but I think the mics were the
print of my press badge. immediate cause of the trouble that ensued. They
were in the hands of Edgar Jopson of the National
The doors of the session hall were locked, Union of Students of the Philippines, the group that
presumably to prevent late entrances from disturbing had organized the rally and secured the permit for it.
the assembly listening to the President’s message. A The NUSP dubbed its demonstration “the January 26
clutch of photographers who had arrived late milled Movement”; its chief objective was to demand “a non-
outside the session hall, talking with some men in partisan Constitutional Convention in 1971.”
barong Tagalog, pleading and demanding to be let in. Demonstrations, however, are never restricted to
The men in barong Tagalog shook their heads, smiled members of the organization to which a permit has
ruefully, and shrugged; they had their orders. I been issued. They are, according to standard
decided to go out and have a look at the practice, open to all sympathizers who care to join;
demonstration. and to the January 26 Movement the veterans of
countless demos sent their representatives. Swelling
Among the demonstrators it was possible to feel at the numbers of the dissenters were youth
ease. None of them carried guns, they didn’t stand on organizations like the National Association of Trade
ceremony, and there was no need for the aura of Unions; student and youth associations like the
privilege that a press badge automatically confers on Kabataang Makabayan, the Samahang Demokratiko
its wearer. I took off the badge, pocketed it, and ng Kabataan, the Malayang Pagkakaisa ng
reflected on the pleasurable sensation that comes Kabataang Pilipino, the Kilusan ng Kabataang Makati,
from being inconspicuous. It seemed awkward, labor groups like the Malayang Samahang
absurd, to strut around with a label on a lapel Magsasaka.
proclaiming one’s identity, a feeling doubtless shared
by cops who were even then surreptitiously removing Now, at about half past five, Jopson, who was in
their nameplates. Also, I was curious. No joiner of polo barong and sported a red armband with the
demonstrations in my anti-social student days, I now inscription “J26M,” announced that the next speaker
wanted to know how it felt like to be in one, not as would be Gary Olivar of the SDK and of the University
journalistic observer but as participant, and I wanted of the Philippines student council. Scads of
to find out what treatment I could expect from demonstration leaders stood with Jopson on that
authority in this guise. raised ground with the Congress flagpole, but Olivar
was at this point not to be seen among them. The
I found out soon enough, and the knowledge hurt. mics passed instead to Roger Arienda, the radio
commentator and publisher of Bomba. Arienda may
At about half past five, the demo that had been sound impressive to his radio listeners, but in person
going on for more than four hours was only beginning he acts like a parody of a high school freshman
to warm up. The colegialas in their well-pressed delivering Mark Anthony’s funeral oration. His
uniforms were wandering off toward the Luneta, bombast, complete with expansive gestures, drew
munching on pinipig crunches and dying of boredom. laughter and Bronx cheers from the militants up front,
Priests and seminarians lingered at one edge of the who now started chanting: “We want Gary! We want
crowd, probably discussing the epistemology of Gary!”
dissent. Behind the traffic island in the middle of
Burgos Drive, in the negligible shade of the pine
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Arienda retreated, the chant grew louder, and use of the microphones and loudspeakers, they had
someone with glasses who looked like a priest took every right to keep these instruments to themselves.
the mics and in a fruity, flute-thin voice pleaded for Yet, by refusing to at least lend their mics to the
sobriety and silence. “We are all in this together,” he radicals, the NUSP leaders gave the impression of
fluted. “We are with you. There is no need for being too finicky; they acted like an old maid aunt
shouting. Let us respect each other.” Or words to that determined not to surrender her Edwardian finery to a
effect. By this time, Olivar was visible, standing next hippie niece, knowing that it would be used for more
to Jopson. It was about a quarter to six. audacious purposes than she had ever intended for it.
The radicals would surely demand more than a non-
When Jopson got the mics back, however, he did partisan Constitutional Convention; they would speak
not pass them on to Olivar. Once more he of more fundamental, doubtless violent, changes; and
announced: “Ang susunod na magsasalita ay si Gary it was precisely the prospect of violence that the
Olivar.” Olivar stretched out his hand, waiting for the NUSP feared. The quarrel over the mics revealed the
mics, and the crowd resumed its chant; but Jopson class distinctions in the demonstration: on the one
after some hesitation now said: “Aawitin natin ang hand the exclusive-school kids of the NUSP, bred in
Bayang Magiliw.” Those seated, squatting, or comfort, decent, respectful, and timorous; and on the
sprawled on the road rose as one man. Jopson sang other hand the public-school firebrands of groups like
the first verse of the National Anthem, then paused, the KM and the SDK, familiar with privation, rowdy,
as if to let the crowd go on from there: instead he irreverent, troublesome. Naturally, the nice dissenters
went right on singing into the mikes, drowning out the wanted to dissociate themselves from anything that
voices of everybody else, pausing every now and smelled disreputable, and besides the mics belong to
then for breath or to change his pitch. them.
Olivar stood there with a funny expression on his Now the mics had passed to a young man, a labor
face, his mouth assuming a shape that was not quite union leader I had seen before, at another
a smile, not quite a scowl. Other demonstration demonstration, whose name I do not know.
leaders started remonstrating with Jopson, gesturing
toward the mics, but he pointedly ignored them. He It had happened so fast Jopson was caught by
repeated his instructions to NUSP members, then surprise; the next thing he knew the mics were no
started acting busy and looking preoccupied, all the longer in his possession. This young labor union
while clutching the mics to his breast. Manifestoes leader was a terrific speaker. He was obviously some
that had earlier been passed from hand to hand now kind of hero to the militants, for they cheered him on
started flying, in crumpled balls or as paper planes, as he attacked the “counter-revolutionaries who want
toward the demonstration leaders’ perch. It was at to end this demonstration,” going on from there to
this point that one of the militants grabbed the mics attack fascists and imperialists in general. By the time
from Jopson. he was through, his audience had a new, a more
insistent chant: “Rebolusyon! Rebolusyon!
Certainly there can be no justification for the action Rebolusyon!”
of the militants. The NUSP leaders had every right to
pack up and leave, since their permit gave them only Passions were high, exacerbated by the quarrel
up to six o’clock to demonstrate and they had over the mics; and the President had the back luck of
declared their demonstration formally closed; and coming out of Congress at this particular instant.
since it was their organization that had paid for the
LUALHATI BAUTISTA
Born in Tondo, Lualhati is one of the foremost female novelists in contemporary Philippine literature, as well
as a multi-awarded movie and TV screenwriter. Her Palanca-award winning novels include Gapo (1980),
Dekada ‘70 (1983), and Bata, Bata…Pa’no Ka Ginawa? (1984), among many others—the last two of which
were made into film, both starring veteran actress Vilma Santos and winning international awards.
Lualhati started out as a journalism student at the Lyceum of the Philippines, but dropped out of school
even before finishing her first year in college. Known to consciously use “Taglish” instead of pure Tagalog as a
stylistic device, her first screenplay was Sakada (1975), a story exposing the plight of Filipino
peasants/sugarcane workers. Her other award-winning screenplays include Bulaklak sa City Jail (1984), Kung
Mahawi Man ang Ulap (1984), and Sex Object (1985), among others.
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Two of her short stories have also won the Palanca Awards: “Tatlong Kuwento ng Buhay ni Julian
Candelabra” (1982) and “Buwan, Buwan, Hulugan mo Ako ng Sundang” (1983). Lualhati also authored the TV
dramas Daga sa Timba ng Tubig (1975) and the Catholic Mass Media-awarded Isang Kabanata sa Libro ng
Buhay ni Leilani Cruzaldo (1987).
In 2005, the Feminist Centennial Film Festival presented Lualhati with a recognition award for her
outstanding achievement in screenplay writing. She was also the recipient of the 2006 Diwata Award for best
writer by the 16th International Women’s Film Festival, and the only Filipino included in a book on foremost
International Women Writers published in Japan, 1991.
Buwan, Buwan Hulugan Mo Ako ng Sundang (short story, 1983)

by Lualhati Bautista
I at sinikap niyang pigilin ang piglas ng damdamin sa

pagkatao niya. Baka mabigla siya, ipagyabang niya
“Pangalan mo?” nang husto si Aliw. Baka mabigla siya, mapatawa-
mapaiyak siya. Masama iyon, baka ibalik siya ni Dok
Napaangat ang mukha ni Angela. Napatitig siya sa puting silid na may bakal na rehas sa bintana’t
kay Duktor Isidro. Saglit na nagduda siya kung hindi pinto.
kaya nag-uulyanin na ang matandang doctor at hindi
na nito matandaan ang pangalan niya gayong Kaya nang tumawa si Angela, banayad na tawa
maraming taon na silang magkakilala. lang:
“Angela po,” sagot ni Angela, “Angela Miguel.” “No’ng araw, Botik-kotik ang tawag namin sa
kanya. Pero malaki na siya ngayon. hindi na niya
Hindi nagbago ang timpla ng mukha ni Dr. Isidro. magugustuhan ang Botik-kotik!”
Hindi ito nagpakita ng anyo ng rekognisyon. At bigla’y
nahulaan ni Angela na nagtatanong ito hindi dahil Ngumiti na nang matipid si Dr. Isidro. “Maganda
nakakalimot na ito kundi tine-testing nito kung siya ang pangalan niya: Aliw.”
ba, si Angela Miguel, ay nakakaalala na!
Dahil sa kanila ni Onofre, iyon ang kahulugan ng
“May asawa?” pagsilang ng anak nila. Aliw.
“Opo.” Pero hindi niya babanggitin si Onofre kay Duktor.

Baka maalala ni Duktor na hindi siya dinadalaw ni
“Pangalan?” Onofre. Halos mula pa ng araw na dalhin siya rito. At
sampung taon na ang tagal n’yon.
“Onofre. Onofre Miguel,” mabilis at tiyak na sagot
niya. Di bale na lang. Kahit noon, sa manaka-nakang
pagsagi sa kanya ng katinuan, sinasabi-sabi niya sa
“May anak?” sarili: di bale na lang. Wala siyang magagawa.
Talagang gano’n ang buhay. Iniibig ka niya ngayon,
“Opo, meron!” Iyon ang hindi niya makakalimutan. bukas ay hindi na. Lalo na kung na-mental ka.
Ang totoo, iyon ang kailanma’y hindi niya
nakalimutan, kahit sa loob ng mga taon ng Hindi mo siya masisisi. Siyempre, nalalabuan din
pagkabilanggo niya sa narerehasang puting silid na ‘yong tao sa lagay mo. Siyempre, iniisip din no’n,
ulila sa mukha at hubog ng kapwa tao pero baka hindi ka na makalabas diyan. Pasensiya ka na
kadalasang sinasalakay ng iyak, tawa, daing, sigaw, kung sakali ma’t nag-asawa na siya sa iba.
at paghuhuramentado ng naglipanang baliw sa siyempre’y kailangan din niya ng makakasama sa
kanyang paligid. buhay!
“Ilan?” Pero laman na rin pala ng isip ng doctor si Onofre.

At ngayo’y itinatanong nito sa kanya:
“Isa lang po. Aliw po ang pangalan niya. Malaki na
siya ngayon, Dok!” sunud-sunod na sagot ni Angela, “Nawala na ang asawa mo. Pa’no paglabas mo
rito? Sa’n ka uuwi?”
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Nakanti ni Duktor ang hinanakit niya pero may Sumakay sila ng taxi. Natatandaan niya pati kulay
hatid ding tuwa sa kanya ang laman ng mga salita ng taxi: dilaw. Natatandaan niya iyon na para bang sa
nito. Nagkabuhay ang mukha ni Angela: isang panahong darating, pag nakahanda na siyang
balikan ang kanyang anak ay maaari siyang
“Lalabas na ‘ko, Dok?” magsimula sa pagpunta sa half-way home sa
pamamagitan ng isang dilaw na taxi!
“Kung may matutuluyan ka.”
Ang half-way home ay isang malaki’t lumang
“Meron po! Si Chabeng! Kaibigan ko ‘yon! Nakita bahay na ang mga bintana’y nababakuran ng
n’yo na ‘yon, Dok! Nagpunta na siyang minsan kalawanging bakal. Nasa loob iyon ng isang bakurang
sen’yo! Kinukumusta niya sen’yo ang lagay ko!” naguguwardiyahan ng matatandang puno ng
kaymito’t mangga. Ibinigay nila si Aliw sa isang
Tumangu-tango si Duktor, pero hindi kumbinsido. nakasalaming babae na ang buhok ay nasasalitan na
“Tatanggapin ka kaya niya?” ng puti at ang leeg ay nasasabitan ng kuwintas na
perlas. Tinandaan niya ang mukha ng babae.
“Kaibigan ko siya, Dok!” ulit ni Angela, at punung- Tinandaan niyang mabuti ang mukha ng babae para
puno ng pag-asa ang tinig nito. “Matalik kong alam niya kung kanino kukunin si Aliw pagdating ng
kaibigan!” oras. Hiningi pa ng babae ang “partida bautismo” ni
Aliw. Sabi pa nga ng babae, mabuti’t tinanggap sa
Tatangu-tango pa rin si Doktor. simbahan ang pangalang Aliw. Sabi naman ni Onofre,
may Maria po kasi sa unahan. Maria Aliw.
“At sabi n’yo sa kanya, siguro, minsan. puwede na
‘kong umuwi. Parang pagsubok, sabi nyo. Dalawang “‘Kako, ano’ng pangalan ng half-way home?”
araw-tatlong araw. Kung makakaya ko nang mabuhay untag ni Dr. Isidro kay Angela.
uli sa labas,” nagkaro’n na ng paninikluhod ang tinig
ni Angela. “Dok, kaya ko na! Magaling na ‘ko!” Gustong magbigay ni Angela ng pangalan, kung
maaari’y kahit mag-imbento na lang siya ng
Tumitig sa kanya si Dr. Isidro. Parang ngayon lang pangalan. Para malaman ng doctor na alam niya ang
ito nakukumbinse na magaling na nga siya. “E sinasabi niya. Para h’wag isipin ng doctor na baliw pa
halimbawa mong pinauwi nga kita sa bahay ng siya!
kaibigan mo, ano’ng gagawin mo sa loob ng dalawa-
tatlong araw na naro’n ka?” Nagtangka siya. Pero naunahan siya ng takot na
makita ng doctor ang kasinungalingan sa kanyang
“Dadalawin ko po’ng anak ko!” mukha. At magalit ito’t hindi siya palabasin.
“Sa’n ba naro’n ang anak mo?” Pinili ni Angela na aminin ang totoo:
“Sa half-way home.” “Nakalimutan ko!” kasunod nito’y napaiyak si

Angela. “Diyos ko, nakalimutan ko!” na para bang
“Anong half-way home?” iyon na ang pinakamalaking trahedya na maaaring
mangyari sa mundo!
Pangalan. Diyos ko, ang pangalan ng half-way
home! Ano nga ba’ng pangalan no’n? Hindi niya Pinabayaan siyang umiyak ni Dr. Isidro.
natatandaan! Kinabahan siya na hindi na niya Pinabayaan siya nang pinabayaan pero nang
natatandaan ang mismong pangalan ng half-way mukhang hindi siya titigil, tinapik siya sa balikat. “Sige
home! Na sa isang pagkalingat niya sa loob ng mga lang, walang kuwenta ‘yon,” sabi nito. “Maski
panahong ito, naiwala niya ang pangalan! pinakamatatalinong tao’y nakakalimot. Minsan nga’y
kung alin pa ang pinakasimpleng bagay, tulad ng
Kinabahan siya na baka signos ito na hindi pa rin spelling ng one o two.”
siya lubos na magaling. Na baka kasamang nawala
ng pangalan ang isa pang piraso ng katinuan niya. Napahinto sa pag-iyak, napatanga si Angela sa
Tuusin mo na alam niya ang pangalan ng half-way doctor. Nakangiti sa kanya ang doctor.
home maski no’ng bagong dating siya rito! Tuusin mo
na gayong iniwan siya ng matinong pag-iisip niya, sa “Pagpunta uli rito ni Chabeng, pasasamahin kita
manaka-naka’t biglaang pagdalaw nito, ang sa kanya. At, Angela, ang pangalan ng sinasabi mo
pinakamalaking dala-dala nito’y gunita ng half-way ay Metropolitan Settlement House.”
home na pinag-iwanan nila ni Onofre kay Aliw!
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II pagbabayaran ng magulang niya. Ginawan ng paraan

ng mag-asawa ang limandaan, nalutas nila ang
Mula nang hawakan niya ang papel ng pagka- problemang iyon pagkaraan ng isang linggo pero
superintendent sa ampunang ito’y libong kaso na ang nang bumalik sila sa ospital, ang sinisingil na sa
dumaraan sa kanyang kamay. Dito na pumuti ang kanila’y isanlibo’t limandaan.
buhok niya, si Mrs. Buenaventura, at bagama’t may
bukas siya ng mukhang tulad sa isang istrikto’t Ayaw pa ring i-release ng ospital si Jennifer kung
masungit na teacher, sa iba’t ibang paraan ay hindi para man lang mapako na lang sa isanlibo limandaan
rin niya maiwasang magkaro’n ng damdamin sa mga ang utang ng magulang nito. Nanatili si Jennifer
anak at ina—at minsa’y pati ama, na humihingi ng bilang sanla, bilang garantiya.
kanyang tulong.
Inabot si Jennifer ng apat na taon sa ospital nang
Hindi ng tulong niya, kundi ng ampunang hindi natutubos. Sa loob siguro ng panahong iyon,
kinakatawan niya. Hindi siya mismo ang ampunan - nagkaanak na uli ang magulang niya at hinarap ng
kung baga’y siya lang ang tulay na tinatawid ng mga mga ito ang masaklap na katotohanang hindi na nila
tao papunta sa isang sangktuwaryo. Ang ampunan matutubos si Jennifer. No’ng malaki na si Jennifer,
mismo’y project ng mga asa-asawa ng isang non- hinarap din ng ospital ang katotohanan na hindi na ito
stock, non-profit organization ng malalaki’t matutubos, at nagdesisyon silang ilista na lang ang
mayayamang lalaki. Sa kawalan yata ng magawa o bata bilang isa sa mga bad debts na naeengkuwentro
mapagtapunan ng pera, nilikha ng mga nasabing ng kahit anong negosyo, pang-tax deduction na lang
babae ang ampunan mula sa isang lumang bahay- nila. At inilabas nila sa isterilisadong silid ng mga
Kastila at ikinabit sa ilalim ng paying ng SWA na sanggol si Jennifer at ipinasa sa MSSD. Walang
ngayo’y MSSD [now DSWD-Department of Social mapaglagyan ang MSSD, ibinigay nila ito sa
Welfare and Development]. settlement house.
Naglayon iyong magsilbi sa mga indigent mothers At tinanggap ni Mrs. Buenaventura ang isang apat
na karaniwa’y mga utusang inimporta pa mula sa na taong bata na hindi marunong magsalita—
Bisaya’t naanakan sa Maynila ng kung sino. Mga sapagka’t walang nagmalasakit kumausap dito sa
babaeng walang asawa, walang kamag-anak, walang panahon na kailangan nitong matuto; at hindi rin
matakbuhan. Kukunin nila ang anak, aalagaan nang makatayo—sapagka’t ang uuguy-ugoy na mga cribs
libre, habang ang ina’y namamasukan bilang sa ospital ay sinadya talaga para ma-discourage
labandera o yaya ng anak ng iba; at sa panahon na tumayo, at dumukwang, ang mga bata dahil
handa na ang ina na kunin ang anak niya, makakaabala sa abalang mga nurses.
babakantehin nila ang duyang iiwan ng bata para
ihanda sa ibang darating pa. Natuto ang MSSD sa kanyang mga karanasan.
Nagbaba siya ng regulation sa kanyang mga sangay
Pero nagkaroon ng mga kaso ng di-pagsipot ng na ang batang hindi siputin ng magulang niya sa loob
ina, o ama. Si Lito L. ay inabot sa kanila ng pitong ng anim na buwan ay awtomatikong malalagay sa
taon. Wala silang facilities para sa isang pipituhing katayuan ng isang abandoned child, na awtomatikong
taon na tulad halimbawa ng eskuwelahan. maglalagay din sa kanya sa listahan ng mga batang
Obligadong ipasa nila si Lito sa ibang lugar na higit eligible for adoption.
na makapagbibigay ng mga kailangan nito.
Natuklasan ni Mrs. Buenaventura na marami na
Kawawa ang bata. Bago nila natuklasan na pala silang eligible for adoption.
abandoned child na pala’y malaki na ito’t wala nang
may kursunadang umampon pa. Ngayo’y sinasabi niya sa payat na babaeng
kaharap niya. “Kung andito ang anak mo, t’yak na
Si Jennifer ay in-abandon din—pero hindi rito kilala ko. Ano ang pangalan ng anak mo?”
kundi sa isang ospital. Sabi’y hindi raw makabayad sa
ospital ang magulang ni Jennifer kaya pinaiwan ng “Aliw,” walang gatol na sagot ng babae. “Maria
ospital ang noon ay bagong silang pang bata bilang Aliw Miguel,” mabilis na dugtong nito.
garantiya. Sanla, kung baga sa kasangkapan. Na
araw-araw ang interes. Ibig sabihin: bayad sa Aliw. Kinabahan si Mrs. Buenaventura. Sa
nursery, bayad sa alaga, na araw-araw na kasalukuyan ay wala silang bata rito na
ipinapatong ng ospital sa listahan ng utang ng nagngangalang Aliw, pero parang may isang
magulang nito. Maaaring sa ikatlong araw ni Jennifer panahon na meron silang gano’ng pangalan.
sa mundo ay limandaang piso lang ang
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Aliw. May malabong gunitang gustong bumalik sa Sumunod lang ako sa batas. Hindi nila ‘ko
isip niya kaugnay ng pangalang iyon. maaakusahan ng krimen!
“Misis, ano’ng pangalan mo?” tanong ni Mrs. Sa huli, wala ring nagawa si Mrs. Buenaventura
Buenaventura. kundi labasin at muling harapin ang babaeng
naghahanap sa kanyang anak.
“Angela po. Angela Miguel.”
“A, Misis, k’wan, kinuha ko ang record ng anak
“Anong taon mo dinala rito ang anak mo?” mo. Na-mental ka pala. Magaling ka na ba?”
“Sampung taon na po ang nakakaraan. Dalawang Nahihiyang umamin ang babae. “H-hindi ko ho
taon pa lang siya no’n. Mabilis na siyang lumakad sigurado. Pero pinayagan na ho akong lumabas ng
pero…pero kokonti pa lang ang nasasabi niya. Si duktor. Hanggang sa makalawa ho, ma’am. Parang
Aliw. Botik-kotik ang tawag namin sa kanya no’n, at pagsubok daw, k-kung kaya ko na ngang pumirmi
kami ng asawa ko ang nagdala rito. Onofre po ang rito,” at mabilis nitong idinugtong, sa tinig na
pangalan ng asawa ko. ‘Yong mataas, pero payat na napauunawa: “Ma’am, hindi ko pa naman kukunin
lalaki. Taga-Palawan ho siya.” ang anak ko, e. Dadalawin ko lang po!”
Botik-kotik. Lumilinaw ang gunita sa isip ni Mrs. Tumango’t naupo na uli si Mrs. Buenaventura.
Buenaventura, at lumalakas ang kaba ng dibdib niya, “Samakatuwid, mula’t sapul. Hindi mo nadadalaw ang
na sinusundan ng di-maiwasang pagkalito sa anak mo?”
kanyang mukha.
“Nasa mental nga po ako.”
“Iisang anak ko po siya, ma’am!”
“E ang asawa mo?”
“S-sandali lang!” sabi ni Mrs. Buenaventura at
tumindig siya, mabilis na nagpunta sa isang silid, Nakita ni Mrs. Buenaventura ang pagdidilim ng
inabala ang sarili sa salansan ng mga records sa mukha ng kausap. “H-hindi ko ho alam!”
filing cabinet.
“Hindi rin niya dinadalaw ang anak mo,” sabi ni
Hinahamig niya’t sinisikap payapain ang sarili. Mrs. Buenaventura.
Diyos ko, nakagawa ba kami ng malaki’t walang
kapatawarang pagkakamali? Pero anong malay Kumirot na ang mukha ng babae. Nadama ni Mrs.
namin na isang araw ay bigla na lang sisipot ang Buenaventura ang pagsama ng loob nito, na sinikap
babaeng ito! nitong takpan ng maikli’t walang damdaming tanong.
“Gano’n ho ba?”
Nagtatagal siya sa silid, habang
pinangangatwiranan ni Mrs. Buenaventura sa sarili “At alam mo, iha, meron kami ritong mga
ang mga regulasyon at aksiyon ng settlement house. regulasyon. Kailangan, maski narito ang bata,
dinadalaw din ng magulang niya. Pag anim na buwan
Sabi rito sa record ay nasa mental hospital ang nang hindi dinadalaw ang bata, napipilitan na kaming
babaeng ito no’ng mga panahong iyon. Alangan ideklara siya na abandonado.”
namang makipaglinawan pa kami sa isang nasa
mental hospital! Alangan namang i-monitor pa namin Napaangat ang mukha ng babae na parang hindi
sa duktor ang progreso niya. Kami rito’y mga abalang naintindihan ang salitang “abandonado”.
tao!
“Ibig sabihin, pinabayaan na. Iniwan na.”
Pero ang baliw na babae noon ay tila binalikan na
ngayon ng matinong pag-iisip. Pa’no kung balikan uli “Hindi ko ho iniwan lang ang anak ko!”
siya ng pagkabaliw bunga ng sasabihin niya ngayon
dito? “Oo, pero ang sinasabi ko sa ‘yo, ang regulasyon
namin.”
Hindi, hindi ko kasalanan pag may nangyari sa
kanya. Wala kaming magagawa. ‘Yong kapakanan ng “M-mahal ko po ang anak ko, ma’am!” giit pa rin ng
bata ang una naming dapat intindihin! babae. “Babalikan ko siya talaga. Kukunin ko. Kahit
akong mag-isa ang magpapalaki!”

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“Pero meron nga kaming mga regulasyon,” giit III

naman ni Mrs. Buenaventura. “Angela, ang unang
isinasaalang-alang namin dito’y ang kapakanan ng Umiinom na naman si Onofre. Gabi-gabi sa loob
mga bata. Pero hindi naman basta gano’n na lang. ng nakaraang isang linggo’y wala na siyang ginawa
Bago kami gumawa ng hakbang, pinipilit din naming kundi uminom. at uminom nang libre! Marami siyang
ma-contact muna ang magulang niya. Sinusulatan kabagang sa dating lugar, at big shot ang tingin sa
namin, pinapupuntahan namin. Nananawagan pa nga kanya ngayon ng mga tagarito. Binabati siya,
kami sa mga diyaryo!” Inililitaw na ni Mrs. pinakikibagayan, pinangingilagan, pinaiinom. Hindi
Buenaventura ang mga sulat at ginupit na balita sa niya gusto ang pakikibagay na luwal ng pangingilag
diyaryo na kasama ng records ni Aliw. “Gano’n ang sa kanya ng mga tao pero wala siyang mapamilian—
ginawa namin sa kaso ni Aliw. Eto, o: nakatatlong kailangan niyang uminom! Hindi naman sa nasasabik
sulat kami sa mister mo. Eto pa nga ang panawagan siya sa alak, dahil maski no’ng araw ay hindi siya
namin sa People’s. Basahin mo, o: ‘Tinatawagan si isang lalaking lasenggo. Tahimik na tao siya,
Mr. Onofre Miguel ng 38 Caballero St., Tundo, marunong makisama, hindi mahilig sa gulo. Basta
Maynila, na makipagkita sa Metropolitan Settlement nabubuhay siya sa pagdidiyaryo-bote, tapos! Basta
House.’ Ang ibig kong sabihin, ginawa naming ang nakapag-uuwi siya ng pambigas at pang-ulam ng
lahat para makaharap ang mister mo, makausap mag-ina niya.
namin.”
Pero iba no’n at iba ngayon. Noon ay naguguluhan
Nag-uumpisa nang mang-usig ang mata’t tinig ng lang siya sa buhay niya. Ngayon, naguguluhan na’y
payat na babae. “Anong ibig n’yong sabihin?” namamait pa.
“Ikaw, alam naming nasa mental ka. No’ng mga No’ng bago siya napilitang ipasok sa mental
panahong iyon, malabo pa kung gagaling ka o hindi. hospital ang asawa niya, sa maghapong pagbababad
Kaya ang mister mo ang sinisikap naming niya sa mga kalye, ang problema niya’y isang tanong
makausap.” tungkol kay Angela: Nababaliw nga kaya siya?
Natatakot siyang baka nababaliw na nga si Angela at
At ang kabadong tinig ng babae’y naging hiyaw. sa isang pagkakataong wala siya sa bahay ay may
“Ano’ng ibig n’yong sabihin?” mangyari pati sa anak niyang si Botik. Naaalala niya
lagi ‘yong baliw na inang walang-awang dinukot ng
Lumikot ang mga mata ni Mrs. Buenaventura, plais ang mata ng anak niya. Naaalala niya ‘yong
naghanap ng sino mang abot-sigaw niya, na baliw na amang nagtarak ng krus sa dibdib ng
makakadalo sa kanya kung sakali’t bigla’y maging kanyang anak sa matinding paghahangad nito na
bayolente ang kausap niyang dati’y baliw. itaboy ang masamang espiritung lumalamon daw sa
katawan at utak ng bata.
“No’ng mga panahong iyon, may isang mag-
asawang gustong umampon kay Aliw.” tinatatagan Pero pa’no pag ipinasok niya sa ospital si Angela?
ang sarili, banayad na umpisa niya. Sino pa ang titingin kay Botik? Pareho lang silang
walang kamag-anak sa lunsod. Siya—sa Palawan
Nakita niya ang pamumutla, pagkagimbal ng siya isinilang at lumaki. Napunta lang siya sa Maynila
babae. sa paghahanap ng kapalaran. Si Angela —isang
galing sa Iloilo na naloko ng isang kinatawan daw ng
“…pero tinitiyak namin na may kakayahan talaga employment agency. Ipinasok na katulong sa
ang pinagbibigyan namin sa mga bata.” Maynila, ginahasa, ipinagbili, pinagpasa-pasaan ng
mga parukyanong Intsik—lumang kuwento, para kang
Nanginginig ang kausap niya. Parang nililindol. nagbasa ng kuwento sa komiks.
“…na maski pa’no’y liligaya ang bata do’n sa Kung bakit ngayo’y parang nababaliw si Angela,
magiging magulang niya. Misis, ang kapakanan ng hindi niya alam. Ewan niya kung may kinalaman dito
bata ang una sa lahat ay-- Misis, h’wag! Leo, Marcial, ang naging kapalaran niya sa lunsod. Maaari din
dali kayo!” namang nasa lahi na talaga ni Angela ang
pagkabaliw. O baka dahil napaglilipasan ng gutom si
Bago nakadalo sina Leo at Marcial ay bumagsak Angela?
na ang babaeng nagtangkang tumindig!
Hindi niya alam.

H0045
Ano’t anuman, kinonsidera ni Onofre na ipasok sa Angela pero natatakot siyang malaman kung kumusta
ospital si Angela, lalo na nang kakitaan niya ito ng na kaya ito. Baka mas malala pa si Angela sa dati.
malalang pakikipagtalo sa sarili sa kanyang pag-iisa, Baka patay na. At pa’no kung gumagaling na si
nang pagpupumilit sa buwan na “hulugan siya ng Angela at itanong sa kanya, kumusta na ang anak
sundang na pambukas ng kanyang tiyan” sa natin? Hindi niya masasabi kay Angela na sa loob ng
kalaliman ng gabi, sa pakikipagkagalit sa mga nakaraang sampung taon ay hindi niya nakita ang
aninong hindi niya maubos-maisip. At bahagi ng anak maski minsan. Hindi pa rin siya makapagpakita
paghahanda ni Onofre sa paglala ng kalagayan ni rito hanggang ngayon. Wala siyang madadala sa
Angela ang pag-alam sa kung paano kaya si Botik anak maski mumurahing manika. Hindi niya maiuuwi
kung saka-sakali. ang anak kung sakali’t gusto nitong sumama sa
kanya, sa simpleng dahilan na wala siyang bahay na
Sa pamamagitan ni Chabeng, natuklasan ni Onore mapag-uuwian dito. Hindi niya masasabi sa anak
ang tungkol sa settlement house. Nakipagkita siya kung saan siya galing at inabot siya ng sampung taon
ro’n. At habang pinag-iisipan niyang mabuti ang bago muling lumitaw.
gagawin kay Angela, inihanda ang mga kailangang
isumite sa ampunan, tulad ng mga sertipiko ng Kaya umiinom siya. Wala siyang magawa sa
kapanganakan at pagkabinyag kay Botik-kotik…kay problema niya kundi uminom at ipagluksa ang buhay
Maria Aliw. niya sa bawa’t magdamag.
Hanggang isang araw ay umuwi siya sa malalang Pero hindi tama ito, ngayo’y sinasabi ni Onofre sa
pagkakagulo ng mga kapitbahay. Si Angela raw, ayon sarili, habang pinagmamasdan ang matapang at
sa paniwala nito, ay hinulugan na ng buwan ng mumurahing alak sa baso niya. Kailangan,
sundang at ngayo’y sinisikap buksan ang sariling magpakatino ako, maghanap ng trabaho, magplano
tiyan para isoli do’n ang kanyang si Aliw —dahil do’n ng buhay namin. May pamilya ‘ko, hindi tama ‘tong
lang makakatiyak ng kaligtasan ang isang bata, sa uminom lang ako gabi-gabi. Kailangang balikan ko
tiyan ng kanyang ina! ang pamilya ko!
Pinagmadali siya ng mga kapitbahay sa paggawa “‘Ba, pare, nagtatagal ang baso sa ‘yo. Palakarin
ng desisiyon. May nagsilid ng ilang damit ni Aliw sa na ‘yan, ‘ba!”
isang supot na plastik, may nag-abot sa kanya ng
pan-taxi. May tumawag din ng taxi para sa kanila. Nagkantahan ang mga kainuman ni Onofre. Tagay
na, tagay pa; tulad ng tagay mo kagabi! Sumigla ang
At mula sa araw na ipasok niya sa pagamutan si kantahan nila at nasingitan ng mga linyang bastos.
Angela, ang kustiyon ng kung nababaliw na nga ba
ito’y napalitan ng ukilkil ng tanong na: Gagaling pa Dinala ni Onofre ang baso sa bibig niya. Tinungga.
kaya siya? Umangat ang mukha niya mangyari pa. Nang
maaninaw niya ang tila multong nakatayo sa likuran
Kailangang gumaling siya. Kailangang makuha ni Imo. Natigilan siya. Napakurap. Lasing na ‘ata siya,
namin si Botik. Diyos ko, h’wag mong pabayaang namamalikmata na siya. Nakakakita na siya ng mga
magkaganito ang pamilya ko! kaanyuang imposibleng mapunta sa harapang ito!
Una’y para madagdagan pa ang kita niya para “‘Nofre?”

magamit niya sa mga gamot ni Angela at mga
pasalubong kay Botik-kotik, at pangalawa’y para At natiyak niyang nagsalita nga ang nasa likuran ni
matakasan ang pag-iisa niya’t pangungulila sa gabi, Imo, dahil bumaling sa direksiyon ng tinig ang mga
nagdagdag pa ng hanapbuhay si Onofre: nagtinda ulo sa palibot niya.
siya ng balut, naghugas ng mga pamasadang dyip,
nagtulak ng mga kariton ng gulay. Sa kanto ng “Angela?”
Tayuman at Felix Huertas, sa pier, sa Asuncion. Kahit
sa mga lugar kung saan naglipana ang mga pulis at Blangko ang mukha ni Angela. Hindi nanunumbat
magnanakaw, kahit sa mga oras ng curfew na ang tinig, hindi nagtatanong. Nagpapahayag.
lumilitaw ang mga Metrocom at tumatago ang mga “Umiinom ka lang pala diyan.”
kriminal! “Angela?” hindi pa rin makapaniwala si Onofre.
Kasabay nito’y parang wala sa sariling napatayo siya.
Sampung taon pagkaraan at iba na ang tanong Dahan-dahang napahakbang. Natahimik sandali ang
ngayon ni Onofre sa sarili kaugnay ni Angela: mga kainuman niya, bago dahan-dahang gumapang
Kumusta na kaya siya? Gusto niyang dalawin si ang anasan. Si Angela. Aba, si Angela nga!
H0045
“Kelan ka lumabas? Sa’n ka umuuwi?” nakaangat “BALITA, balita! Si Onofre Miguel, 36, ay bigla na
na ang dalawang kamay ni Onofre sa tangkang lang sinaksak ng asawa niyang si Angela Miguel y de
paghawak sa magkabilang balikat ni Angela. Nag- la Cruz sa isang tindahan sa panulukan ng Caballero
uumpisa nang magkabuhay ang mga damdamin sa at Matimtiman Streets sa Tundo, Maynila. Si Angela
loob niya: pananabik, kasiyahan, suyo. “Angela.” ay napag-alamang kagagaling lamang sa National
Mental Hospital at pinalabas sandali ng mga duktor
Bahagya pa lang sumasayad ang mga kamay ni sa pag-asang magaling na ito at bilang paghahanda
Onofre sa magkabilang balikat ni Angela nang sa lubusang pagre-release sa kanya, samantalang si
mapaigtad siya, mapahugot ng marahas na hininga, Onofre ay kalalaya lamang mula sa city jail ng
manlaki ang mga mata sa masidhing pagkagimbal. Maynila. Si Miguel ay nasangkot sa salang pangho-
“Angela!” holdup na may kasamang pagpatay noong 1973,
hindi nabisitahan minsan man sa loob ng nakaraang
Kasabay nito, ang pulasan ng mga nakapaligid. sampung taon, at pinalaya ng korte sa bisa ng appeal
May napatalon, may napatakbo, may nasubasob. na inihain ng isang human rights organization
Bumagsak ang upuang bangko, nabasag ang mga kaugnay ng pagkayurak sa karapatan ng akusado sa
bote’t baso, sumabog ang pulutang mani, lumipad mabilis at makatarungang paglilitis.
ang mga sigarilyo. Alam nilang baliw si Angela, nasa
mental, tumakas lang siguro, at narito ngayon para “Ang bangkay ni Onofre Miguel ay nakaburol
pumatay! Takbo kayo, papatayin tayo ni Angela! ngayon sa barangay headquarters ng kanilang lugar,
samantalang si Angela Miguel naman ay ibinalik sa
mental hospital ng mga nakasaksi.”
Dekada ‘70 (film review)

Characters:
• Amanda Bartolome—a typical housewife and the mother of five young men, she doesn’t want anything
more than the safety and happiness of her children. She is later torn between following the law and
protecting her loved ones. (Vilma Santos)
• Julian Bartolome Sr.—as the breadwinner and husband of Amanda, he is the typical Filipino father who
views reality as “a man’s world”. He supports his eldest son’s rants against the government while
simultaneously refusing to condone Amanda’s simple wish to find a job. (Christopher de Leon)
• Julian “Jules” Bartolome Jr.—the eldest and Amanda’s favorite son, he is a smart student leader who later
joins the revolutionary/communist movement against the Marcos dictatorship. He is betrayed by his friend
Doming and arrested, later marrying his love Marah while in prison. (Piolo Pascual)
• Isagani “Gani” Bartolome—the second child, he joins the U.S. Navy in the hopes of becoming an American
citizen but gets his girlfriend Evelyn pregnant. Though married at the insistence of their parents, the young
couple’s separation is inevitable. (Carlos Agassi)
• Emmanuel “Em” Bartolome—the third of the brothers, he is the quiet, reserved type until he becomes an
outspoken campus journalist/activist doing political exposés. His father objects to his plans on becoming a
writer for practical reasons. (Marvin Agustin)
• Jason “Jimboy” Bartolome—the fourth among the siblings and Julian Sr.’s favorite son, he is the happy-go-
lucky type who habitually lies to and disobeys his parents, leading to his untimely death at the hands of the
corrupt police/Metrocom because of mistaken identity. (Danilo Barrios)
• Benjamin “Bingo” Bartolome—still a boy and the youngest of the five, he is most loved by his brother
Jules. He was in the middle of his teens after all had come to pass.
Directed by noted filmmaker Chito Roño, the 2002 movie adaptation of Lualhati Bautista’s prize-winning
novel Dekada ‘70 chronicles a middle-class Filipino family who, over the space of a decade, becomes aware
of the political policies of the Marcos regime that have led to state repression. Caught in the middle of the
chaotic decade of the 1970s, the multi-awarded film captures the events following the bombing of Plaza
Miranda (in Quiapo), the suspension of the writ of habeas corpus, the proclamation of Martial Law, the
curfews, and the random arrests/tortures/killings of political activists/suspected civilians among many other
H0045
human rights violations. Vilma Santos stars as the domesticated wife Amanda, the central character who finds
self-worth and realizes the implications of living under a military dictatorship after sorting out the contradictory
reactions of her macho husband Julian—played by Christopher De Leon—and their all-male brood.
Popular Literature: Komiks

• Komiks is the Tagalog term for “comics” created in the Philippines.
• The first indigenous cartoons can be traced to Jose Rizal’s 1887 fable “The Monkey and the
Tortoise”.
• In 1907, the Tagalog magazine Lipang Kalabaw, owned by Lope K. Santos, carried satirical
editorial cartoons directed at American officials.
• The very first Filipino komiks serials/paneled cartoon strips appeared in the 1920s as page fillers
in Tagalog magazines like Si Kiko at Angge in Telembang, and Ganito Pala sa Maynila in
Bagong Lipang Kalabaw.
• In the 1930s, the comics filler, Album ng Mga Kabalbalan ni Kenkoy, appeared in the
entertainment section of Tagalog magazine Liwayway.
• In 1946, the first all-comics magazine was published; the short-lived Halakhak Komiks lasted
only 10 issues.
• The 1950s saw the publication of Tagalog Klasiks (1949), Hiwaga Komiks (1950), Espesyal
Komiks (1952), and Kenkoy Komiks (1959)—giving rise to the “Golden Age of Pinoy Komiks”.
• The 1960s drew inspiration from social realism and other forms of Philippine literature such as
the komedya, alamat, and local folklore/mythology.
• The 1970s up to the 1980s saw the development of komiks “supernovels”— stories spanning
more than 50 issues.
• In the 1990s, the komiks industry declined—only to be revived in 2007 by veteran writer/director
Carlo J. Caparas.
KOMIKS
Inspired by comic strips from magazines left behind by American soldiers/G.I.s during the early 20th
century, komiks eventually became widespread and popular throughout the Philippines, making the country
one of the largest comics publishers in the world, so that by the mid-1950s, komiks was considered the
unofficial “national book” of Filipinos.
The komiks’ original aim was to entertain people with cheap reading material. Hence, many of the strips
during the early years were cartoons in the gag style of “Kenkoy,” a local version of the popular “Funnies”
comic books being published in the United States. But the medium steadily diversified, and by the 1960s after
the first regularly published all-comics magazine was born, it drew more inspiration from other forms of Filipino
literature and folklore. Thus, early Tagalog komiks became rich in tales of the aswang, kapre, nuno sa punso,
tikbalang, and many other characters indigenous to Philippine mythology.
Due to the commercial success of komiks, it became the vehicle for fantasy and comedy comics writers like
Mars Ravelo, Hal Santiago, Jim Fernandez, and Carlo Caparas among many others. Their memorable
serials/characters such as “Darna,” “Bondying,” “Dyesebel,” “Roberta,” “Maruja,” “Ang Panday,” “Anak ni
Zuma,” etc. effectively captured the Filipino psyche.

H0045
With the firm foundation of fantasy/comedy themes and the predominance of superheroes, komiks in the
1970s through the ‘90s ventured into “supernovels” and heavy drama with such novelists as Elena Patron,
Nerissa Cabral, Gilda Olvidado, and Pablo Gomez dominating the field. Popular examples of their lengthy
stories were “Bituing Walang Ningning,” “Bukas Luluhod ang mga Tala,” “Sinasamba Kita,” “Kung Mahawi man
ang Ulap,” and “Babangon Ako at Dudurugin Kita.”
During the Martial Law years, then President Marcos censored many of the content of komiks. He also
ordered the use of cheap paper/newsprint to produce komiks, so that the visual and the physical qualities of
the medium were affected, resulting in the eventual decline of its readership in the 1980s. And with the advent
of other mass-media forms of entertainment such as video games, karaoke, cheap Tagalog pocketbooks, and
much later the Internet, cellphones/text messaging, and TV telenovelas, a steady decline in komiks production
followed until most publishers finally gave up and cancelled their titles in the 1990s. However, many komiks
serials/characters were later adapted into the other art/media forms of movies, radio plays, TV soap operas,
musicals, and theater plays.
Tagalog Romance Pocketbooks

• With the fall of komiks in the 1990s, primetime TV telenovelas and low-priced Filipino romance
pocketbooks took over the media.
• The standard 128-page Tagalog paperbacks cost P37 each, ranging from as low as P12 to P109
(special editions).
• Contrary to popular belief that Filipino pocketbooks are only for the less-educated, baduy/ bakya
masses, 56% of their readers are professionals
REFERENCES:
Constantino, R. (1975). The Philippines: A Past Revisited. Quezon City: Tala Publishing Services.
Bookstore.
Rivera, N. & Sicat, M. (2004). Affirming the Filipino: An Anthology of Philippine Literature. Quezon City:
Emiluz Printing Industries, Inc.
Dekada ’70 plot synopsis. All Movie Guide. Retrieved June 2009 from
http://www.allmovie.com/dvd/dekada-70-70758
Philippine Literature Portal http://panitikan.com.ph/ retrieved June 2009.
The Premier Digital Library of the Philippines. http://www.filipiniana.net/, retrieved June 2009.


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H0045

Credit: 3 units (3 hours per week)

3 Brillantes, L. (2006). 81 years of Premio Zóbel: A legacy of Philippine literature in Spanish.

4 Canlas, R. (2008). The constellational diaspora: Filipino literature and

6 Constantino, R. (1984). The Philippines: A past revisited. Manila: Tala Publishing.

7 Eugenio, D. (1982). Philippine folk literature: An anthology, vol. 1. Quezon City:

8 Fernandez, D. (1989). “Panitikan: An Essay on Philippine Literature”. [essay]

APPROVED BY: Aquino, Anna Carmela Z.

Pasig City: Anvil Pub.

13 Maramba, A. (2006). Early Philippine literature from ancient times to 1940:

15 Vinuya, R. (2005). Philippine literature: A statement of ourselves.

17 “Glossary of Literary Terms”. The University of North Carolina at Pembroke.

18 Philippine Literature Portal http://panitikan.com.ph/ retrieved May 2010.

19 “Philippine People”. DLSU Litera1 No4: Philippine Literature.

20 Project Gutenberg http://www.gutenberg.org/ retrieved April 2010.

21 The Premier Digital Library of the Philippines. http://www.filipiniana.net/,

Course Requirements: 1 Lecture-Discussion

Grading System: The following percentage distribution shall be followed:

APPROVED BY: Aquino, Anna Carmela Z.

Specific Behavioral Lec Instructor's Student

At the end of the lesson, the students are expected to:

APPROVED BY: Aquino, Anna Carmela Z

Specific Behavioral Lec Instructor's Student

At the end of the lesson, the students are expected to:

APPROVED BY: Aquino, Anna Carmela Z

Specific Behavioral Lec Instructor's Student

At the end of the lesson, the students are expected to:

APPROVED BY: Aquino, Anna Carmela Z

Specific Behavioral Lec Instructor's Student

At the end of the lesson, the students are expected to:

61 Write a descriptive essay as an effective

Introduction to Literature *Property of STI

b) comedy—aims primarily to amuse and ends happily

Literary devices: fiction

Literary devices: poetry

Literary devices: non-fiction

Introduction to Literature *Property of STI

Archaic writing system

History of Philippine Literature: Pre-Colonial Period *Property of STI

Igum ni Upu samula: Grandfather's riddle starts:

Pay ku hangka uhayuhay My grain of palay is like a little leaf

Leron, leron sinta, buko ng papaya Halika na Neneng at tayo'y magsimba

Halika na Neneng, tayo'y manampalok Ako'y ibigin mo, lalaking matapang

Bahay Kubo (Nipa Hut)

Bahay kubo, kahit munti Kundol, patola, upo't kalabasa

History of Philippine Literature: Pre-Colonial Period *Property of STI

Ili, ili, tulog anay Sleep now, my child

History of Philippine Literature: Pre-Colonial Period *Property of STI

Tata a lappao yo pangirang-ngirang cu I compare thee to a flower,

Komosta komosta dawat ang alima Let me shake your hand

History of Philippine Literature: Pre-Colonial Period *Property of STI

Ang tubig ma’y malalim Ang sugat ay kung tinanggap

Sadaa salag kan bulan Shine, shine mister moon

Rice-pounding song for weddings (Tinguian)

Imma isa-a-isa Imma one after the other

Si Pilimon, si Pilimon Filemon, Filemon

History of Philippine Literature: Pre-Colonial Period *Property of STI

_________ _ _________

_________ _ _________