The Life and Writings of Dr. José Rizal

Wake up, Heart, kindle again your extinguished fire so that in its warmth you may remember that time which I dare not judge. Go, thinking mind, and go again through those places, recall those moments in which you drank together with the nectar the bitter gall of love and disappointment.

After the vacation period of that memorable year, I looked for a house in Intramuros (27) and I found one on Solina Street, whose landlord was a priest. My mother said that I had enough with what I knew and I should not return to Manila anymore. Had my mother a presentiment of what was going to happen to me? Has the heart of all mothers, in face, double vision.

I enrolled in metaphysics, because, besides my doubt about the career that I would follow, my father wanted me to study it, but so little was my inclination for it that I didn’t even buy the textbook used by the other students. I found myself in Manila as if stupefied. A fellow collegian of mine, who had left college three months before and lived at that time on the same street as I, was the only friend I had then. My house companions were from Batangas, recently arrived at Manila. My friend M. (28) went to our house every Sunday and other days and afterwards together we would go to Tronzo to the house of a grandmother of mine, friend of his father. For me the days passed happily and silently until one Sunday when we went to Trozo, we encountered there a girl (29) of about fourteen years fresh, pleasant, winsome who received my companion with much familiarity, from which I had deduced that she might be his sister who I already had heard was going to marry a relative whose name I didn’t remember. In fact we found there a tall man, dressed nicely, who seemed to be her fiancé. (30) She was short, with expressive eyes, ardent at times, and drooping at other times, pinkish, a smile so bewitching and provocative that revealed some very beautiful teeth; with an air of a sylph, I don’t know what alluring something was all over her being. She was not the most beautiful woman I had seen but I had never seen one more bewitching and alluring. They told me to sketch her, but I excused myself because really I didn’t know. Finally they compelled me and I drew a grotesque picture. I played chess and whether due to the lady with her fiancé or I was distracted seeing her or I was flattered or I didn’t know, the fact was I lost! Now and then she looked at me and I blushed. At last they talked about novels and other things about literature and then I took part in the conversation with advantage. That day passed until the young woman K, entered college after taking leave of all the others who were there. I returned home and I didn’t think seriously again of that day. A second Sunday came and I saw her followed always by her fiancé and other girls.

Segunda Katigbak (The obect of Rizal's affection)

It happened that I changed my residence and a sister of mine entered the Colegio de la Concordia in which the young woman K, was a boarder. I went to call on her and she appeared in the reception hall accompanied by the young woman who had become her intimate friend. AS I had nothing to say to her nor had I had the honor of being introduced to her, besides my bashfulness as a collegian, I didn’t address her except a ceremonious and silent bow to which she responded with admirable grace and delicacy. When I returned, in the company of my aunts, we found them strolling. My sister followed us in a carriage and we went to the college where shortly afterwards the young woman appeared. No incident occurred to us worth mentioning.

My friend M. was the brother of Miss K. One Thursday he came to invite me to go together to La Concordia to visit our respective sisters. I accepted the invitation gladly and we went. We found his sister in the hall. She greeted us and she asked me if I would like her to call my sister Olimpia. I thanked her and she went away nimbly but always with grace that I have never seen in any other woman. Shortly afterwards the two appeared and we formed a small circle. Since then we talked and animation reigned in our gathering. Her brother left us and went to speak with a girl to whom he was later married.

I don’t remember how our conversation began, but I do remember that she asked me what flowers I liked best. I told her that I liked all, but that I preferred the white and the black ones. She told me that she liked the white and pink ones and she became pensive; but later she added:

“Yes, I also like the black ones.”

I kept quiet.

“Have you a sweetheart?” She asked me after a moment of silence.

“No”. I replied, “I never thought of having one because I know well that no one would pay attention to me, especially the beautiful ones.”

“Why, is it possible? You deceive yourself! Do you want me to get you one?”

“Thanks, Miss,” I told her, “but I don’t want to bother you.” I remembered at that moment that she would marry her uncle the following December, and then I asked her: “Do you go back to your town in December?”

“No”, she answered me dryly.

“They say that in your town a very big feast will be celebrated in which you will take an important part and it is possible that it will not be held without your attendance.”

“No,” she replied and she smiled. “My parents want me to go home but I should not like to do so, for I wish to stay in college for five years more.”

Little by little I was imbibing the sweetest poison of love as the conversation continued. Her glances were terrible for their sweetness and expressiveness. Her voice was so sonorous that a certain fascination accompanied all her movements. From time to time a languid ray penetrated my heart and I felt something that was unknown to me until then. And why did the years pass so rapidly that I didn’t have time to enjoy them? Finally when the clock struck seven, we took our leave of our respective sisters and then she said:

“Have you any order to give me?”

“Miss, I never had the custom of ordering women,” I replied, “I expect them to command me.”

We went down the wide staircase of the college and went home. I don’t remember how I spent the night then. The time that passed afterward was so painful that the beautiful and sweet were erased from my mind leaving only black shadows mixed with the tints of tediousness.

My friend and I returned the following Sunday and we found only my sister because his had gone out that day with her father. It was a stormy night. My sister had asked me if I had requested her friend to make flowers and as I replied that I didn’t, she told me that she had asked for material from the sisters [nuns -- Zaide]. I had made a pencil portrait of Miss K, that I copied from a photograph that she had given me last Thursday. After awhile her father and she appeared. I greeted him for we knew each other. They brought with them a cone of almonds that they offered us while she greeted us with her attractive smile. Her brother took a handful but I didn’t. She disappeared, returning afterwards with two white roses, one of which she offered her brother and the other to me which she herself placed in my hatband. I offered her the portrait I had made, which pleased her. Our conversation became animated and afterwards we took our leave, the same as last Thursday. She said that the white rose that she gave me was from my sister. And though, I knew it was not, I pretended to believe it. I went home and kept the rose, symbol of her artificial love. My aunts and I went there again on Thursday following that Sunday. They came out as usual, each one carrying a white rose; my sister gave me hers and she gave hers to her brother. We formed a circle and my seat was next to hers. My sister had to communicate I don’t know what feminine secret to my aunts and therefore she left us alone. I took advantage of the occasion to ask her who made those roses and to tell her that I consider my sister incapable of having made them for she didn’t know yet how to make them so well and moreover I wanted to know the name of my creditor. She confessed to me the truth blushing. I thanked her, promising her that I would keep it while I live and I added: “Do you know that it is very painful for me to lose you after having known you?”

“But I’m going to get married!” she replied and two tears appeared in her eyes, having divined the very intention of my remark.

After this my aunts returned and we continued our conversation. The subject turned to trifles. It is true that during the conversation our eyes met, and the most intense glances full of a loving melancholy expression came to enslave my soul forever.

Our visits continued. I abstained; or rather I forbade my heart to love her knowing that she was engaged. But I said to myself: Perhaps she did love me: perhaps her love for her fiancé was nothing more than a girlish love as her heart had not yet opened to receive true love. Moreover I’m neither rich nor handsome nor gallant nor attractive; and if she love me, her love would be true, for it was not based on vain and shaky foundation. But even then, I decided to keep quiet until I could see greater proofs of sympathy between us. I would neither subject myself to her yoke nor declare myself to her.

Once when I went alone to the college, I carried letters and orders for her and consequently I could send for her to come out to the reception room; but I didn’t do so, instead I waited for her little sister to whom I delivered them to be given to her. My sister came out telling me that K. was very sad on account of what I had done. I said nothing. After a short while, brother arrived and sent for her. She came out very serious and formal. I bowed to her and she scarcely responded with a slight inclination of the head without smiling, and went to another group. I went back to my seat then and began to speak with her brother. After awhile she came back to where we were; gay, loquacious, and witty, she entertained us delightfully with her pleasant conversation. When night came, the moon rose up majestically and we had to take our leave. Her brother and I were going to leave together and when we were already seated in the carriage, my sister called me and told me: “K. requests you not to come except in the company of her brother so that you can visit her.” I received a pleasing joy but a marmorean [marble] exterior hid it from all; I said yes and left. Since then everything changed for me.

In the meantime chattering and lying rumor was already spreading out imaginary love, still in embryo, as certain. Everywhere I heard only talk about our relations and truth to tell we loved each other without having declared it clearly except that we understood each other through our glances.

In the meanwhile, time was passing away, I, in going there every Thursday and Sunday, and she in receiving us always enchanting and attractive, always a conqueror of my heart that still refused to surrender. It happened once that my aunts, another young woman and a sister of mine had to make flowers for I didn’t know what saints and for this purpose went to the college in the morning and I had to fetch them in the afternoon; I went there already twice. Once I gave in to my friend, and another time I didn’t go, saying I was ill. The following day I found them on the landing of the staircase -- she, my two sisters, an aunt of mine, and another young woman. She was simply but very elegantly dressed, with her hair loose, and with a smile on her lips. Oh always I saw her thus even in my dreams! She received me cheerfully, accompanying us with my sisters until the carriage. My sister collegian talked with my aunts and she with me.

“Have you been sick?” she asked me in her sweet voice.

“Yes,” I answered her, “but now I’m very well thanks to you . . . .”

“Oh!” she replied, “last night I was praying for you fearful that something bad might happen to you.”

“Thanks,” I replied, “But being so, I would like to get sick always inasmuch as in this way I have the happiness of being remembered by you; moreover death might do me much good.”

“Why?” she replied. “Do you wish to die? Well, I’m sorry.”

And we kept quiet. I don’t remember now what came out of our lips then, but we must have talked a great deal, inasmuch as night overtook us. Alas! Our conversation was so sweet, though we had not yet declared ourselves that more and more fastened the yoke already being laid on me.

Ah! Once happy memories, now heart-rending! Oh, vanish from my memory, for instead of bringing me happiness, you inflame my despair and my skepticism.

I was then reflecting on my situation. New anxieties, new cares, new ideas, new sentiments, seized me. When least expected I spent the night almost sleepless, steeped in my reflections. My rebellious heart, which perchance forebode what was going to happen later, refused to expressed itself yet and consequently to bend its neck, perhaps fearful of entrusting its happiness to such fragile hands. Alas, why have I not followed the impulses of my presentiments and followed another route, fascinated by the melodious voice of this siren, much more terrible and powerful than those of antiquity?

The eighth of December came, feast of the college in which she was a boarder. It was a Saturday, with an enviable sun. Some students and I went to the college. It was decorated with pennants, lanterns, flowers, etc. We went up and there I found my (unintelligible word) . . . beautiful as ever but with a certain severe and reserved air that I could not explain, I asked for my sister and she came and she tried to call her, but she only approached our group carrying some pictures which she left with my sister. I took one of them without telling her, for she did not converse with us that morning. Twelve o’clock struck and we were going to depart and I approached her and said, “Miss, pardon me for having taken your picture without your permission. Will you not be offended if I keep it?

“No,” she said with a smile and made me forget her seriousness. Afterwards she called a friend of hers, thus cutting off our conversations.

We took our leave. When we reached home, I kept the picture and pretended not to be in a bad humor.

One day my grandmother took me to the college in the morning and sent for her and my sister. I still seem to see her coming out pale and panting and turning a glance to me that filled me with joy, though it did not dispel my secret sorrow. Then I learned that her mother, having given birth to a boy to whom was given the name José, had ordered her to go home that same month. A painful presentiment oppressed my heart but I concealed it under a cloak of indifference. My grandmother and the mother [nun -- Zaide] went away leaving us four there, that is, her, my two sisters, and me. My grandmother and the mother came back awhile and we went down for I didn’t know what. While we were going down the stairs, she remained behind. I asked her then if it would not displease her to be of my hometown and she replied blushing that it would not.

She stopped beside the carriage and I, too, and we remained thus looking at each other for our companions had gone away to see I knew not what.

The time to take our leave came and we, my grandmother, my sister, and I, got into the carriage. My grandmother handed to me the letter in which her father ordered her to go home. I read and reread it and in the meantime I thought of what would become of us afterward should she become my partner. Oh, dreams!

At last Thursday came and I went to the college to visit them and say farewell, as I had to go home the following day. We spoke a very few words but sad and affectionate. She told me that she was going home on the following Saturday, that is one day after my projected departure. I answered her then that once I had decided to go home on Friday it would be very ugly for me to retract, but at any rate we would see each other in my hometown. She kept quiet, but she became pensive and raised her eyes to the sky. Even now it seems to me that I see her leaning against the door, in an attitude so thoughtful that had made me think so much.

I took leave of her as at other times, and the moon which at that time was at its apogee, illuminated the one who was to modify so much my ideas, standing on the landing of the staircase, always poetic for my imagination.

That was the first night that I felt an anguish and inquietude resembling love, if not jealousy, perhaps because I saw that I was separating from her, perhaps because a million obstacles would stand between us, so that my budding love was increasing and seemed to be gaining vigor in the fight. Since then I knew that I loved her truly and in my own way, that is, very different from other loves that I have heard mentioned.

As I had promised, I did go home the following day and I found on the steamer a young college woman of Sta. Catalina, (31) of the same age as K., of my town, who was also going home to Calamba for a few days with her father after having spent almost five years in the college.

We knew each other very well, but the education that the sisters of her college gave her made her excessively timid and bashful, so much so that I refrained from using the least ambiguous word. I had to resign myself to speak with her back. Her father was with us. To entertain her during the trip I asked about her college, her friends, and her hopes or illusions. She answered me in monosyllables and I noted that she had forgotten half of Tagalog if not all of it.

At last we arrived at our town: I, a little querulous about the bad treatment that I received from my fellow townswoman despite the fact that, continually besieged by the thought of my beloved, I could not think of joking with other women.

When I reached home, my mother, who had already lost much of her sight, didn’t recognize me until after having observed me a long time. That saddened me at the beginning when I didn’t know yet the cause. My sisters received me joyfully and I could read their pleasure in their faces. They asked me about K. and they teased me. Of all of them my father was the most contented and the one who talked the least.

Consider my situation and my illusions! My family was very much astonished when they learned that I new how to handle arms, for that very night I proved myself to be the best swordsman in my town.

The following day, at the time when the steamer ought to arrive and therefore the family of my friend or my beloved after having waited for her a few minutes, we learned from my father, who had gone to meet her, that the steamer, on account of the wind, did not touch Calamba, but instead the passengers disembarked at Biñan. Consequently, her father, with all his companions, relatives of the fiancé and others who formed the escort, waited outside the town and from there to go to Lipa. I had a white horse saddled and I mounted it and went out of the town because I expected to see her for the last time. I went in the direction of Biñan and I passed precisely the point where all those awaiting her were encamped. I goaded my horse as if I didn’t notice them. Then I heard one crying out to me: “Stop, stop.”

I looked back and saw no one who talked to me and I tried to go ahead and then the same call was repeated. I looked around. I encountered her father who asked me smiling how long ago had I arrived.

“Yesterday,” I replied, bowing.

“Well, they are arriving today,” he replied.

“Yes,” I answered, “It seems that a friend told me something about that.”

But I knew very well that was the day of her arrival.

I didn’t continue on my way. I took another road towards Los Banños, but I thought it would be better if I went to our lands, as they would pass there to go to their town.

I did as I had thought and rushed the horse until I reached our mill. I got down the horse and I amused myself looking at the water that ran though the canal, comparing its velocity to my days.

At this moment, only one coach arrived and I saw getting down the student of Sta. Catalina, an aunt of hers, an uncle, and a young man, student of the Ateneo, who had just arrived that day from Manila. They were going to their lands called Presa. I accompanied them on foot leaving my horse tied to a stake.

When we had arrived at their mill, I took leave to return to the town, but really to wait again on the road in case they had not passed by yet. I arrived there and I inquired if there had passed by cavalcades or carromatas. (32) No one could tell me.

Sadly I sat down by the bank of the brook that run the old mill that we had in it, thinking of many things at the same time and not being able to fix my mind on anything. I saw the swift currents carrying away branches that they tore from the bushes and my thought, wandering in other regions and having other subjects, paid no attention to them. Suddenly I perceived a noise, I raised my head and saw calesas and horses enveloped in a cloud of dust. My heart beat violent and I must have become pale. I took a short stroll returning to where I had the horse tied. There I waited.

The first vehicle carried K’s father and another gentleman. He invited me to go to his town; I thanked him. How I would have liked to go! K., her sister, and other girls from La Concordia occupied the vehicle that came behind. She bowed to me smiling and waving her handkerchief, I just lifted up my hat and said nothing. Alas! Such has always happened to me in the most painful moments of my life. My tongue, profuse talker, becomes dumb when my heart is bursting with feelings. The vehicle passed like a swift shadow, leaving no other trace but a horrible void in the world of my affections. I mounted the horse while the third vehicle was approaching where my friend was riding. It halted and he invited me to go to his hometown. I was going to follow them for I was riding a pretty good horse. But in the critical moments of my life, I have always acted against my will, obeying different purposes and mighty doubts. I goaded my horse and took another road without having chosen it, exclaiming: this is ended thus. Ah, how much truth, how much meaning, these words then had! My youthful and trusting love ended! The first hours of my first love ended. My virgin heart will forever weep the risky step it took in the abyss covered with flowers. My illusion will return, indeed, but indifferent, incomprehensible, preparing me for he firs deception on the road of grief.

I returned to the town inebriate and confused. Melancholy, sweet in its tortures, seized me. I knew she was the woman who satisfied fully the aspirations of my heart that told me I had lost her.

I spent the two nights that followed this day in visiting, together with L., a young woman who lived toward the east in a little house at the right. She was a bachelor girl older than we were. She was fair and seductive and with attractive eyes. She, or we, talked about love but my heart and my thought followed K. through the night to her town. If the filthiest corpse had told met hat she too was thinking of me, I would have kissed it out of gratitude.

I spent the last days of December in that monotonous melancholy so much more impossible as I could not find any other object to distract my thoughts. My father, who had learned about our visits, prohibited us from continuing them, perhaps because the name of the oriental maid did not figure in his calculations. I did not visit her again.

Manila, 16 November 1881. S. L. departed.

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(01) The walled city of Manila.

(02) Mariano Katigbak of Lipa, Batangas.

(03) Segunda Katigbak.

(04) Manuel Luz of Lipa, Batangas.

(05) A boarding school for girls in Manila, Colegio de Sta. Catalina under a very strict order of nuns.

(06) Light two-wheeled covered vehicles usually horse-drawn, and more spacious than a calesa.