CHAPTER XVI
THE TRIBULATIONS OF A CHINESE
In the evening of that same Saturday, Quiroga, the Chinese, who
aspired to the creation of a consulate for his nation, gave a dinner
in the rooms over his bazaar, located in the Escolta. His feast was
well attended: friars, government employees, soldiers, merchants,
all of them his customers, partners or patrons, were to be seen
there, for his store supplied the curates and the conventos with
all their necessities, he accepted the chits of all the employees,
and he had servants who were discreet, prompt, and complaisant. The
friars themselves did not disdain to pass whole hours in his store,
sometimes in view of the public, sometimes in the chambers with
agreeable company.
That night, then, the sala presented a curious aspect, being filled
with friars and clerks seated on Vienna chairs, stools of black wood,
and marble benches of Cantonese origin, before little square tables,
playing cards or conversing among themselves, under the brilliant glare
of the gilt chandeliers or the subdued light of the Chinese lanterns,
which were brilliantly decorated with long silken tassels. On the
walls there was a lamentable medley of landscapes in dim and gaudy
colors, painted in Canton or Hongkong, mingled with tawdry chromos
of odalisks, half-nude women, effeminate lithographs of Christ,
the deaths of the just and of the sinners--made by Jewish houses in
Germany to be sold in the Catholic countries. Nor were there lacking
the Chinese prints on red paper representing a man seated, of venerable
aspect, with a calm, smiling face, behind whom stood a servant, ugly,
horrible, diabolical, threatening, armed with a lance having a wide,
keen blade. Among the Indians some call this figure Mohammed, others
Santiago, [34] we do not know why, nor do the Chinese themselves give
a very clear explanation of this popular pair. The pop of champagne
corks, the rattle of glasses, laughter, cigar smoke, and that odor
peculiar to a Chinese habitation--a mixture of punk, opium, and dried
fruits--completed the collection.
Dressed as a Chinese mandarin in a blue-tasseled cap, Quiroga moved
from room to room, stiff and straight, but casting watchful glances
here and there as though to assure himself that nothing was being
stolen. Yet in spite of this natural distrust, he exchanged handshakes
with each guest, greeted some with a smile sagacious and humble,
others with a patronizing air, and still others with a certain shrewd
look that seemed to say, "I know! You didn't come on my account,
YOU ARE READING
EL FILIBUSTERISMO
Historical Fictiona.k.a. THE REIGN OF GREED DR. JOSE P. RIZAL A Complete English Version of El Filibusterismo from the Spanish of José Rizal By Charles Derbyshire