V.

V.“CURSED WITH A CURSE.”“Where is Ambrosia?”Bishop Lonzello addressed the woman who had borne a daughter to him in the home he had provided for her. He was deeply agitated with passion. The insurgents, who had elected a president and assembly, had already nationalized the friars’ lands, and the heresy of Aglipay was waxing formidable, having possession of most of the churches throughout Luzon. Lonzello had heard that his daughter Ambrosia had been receiving attentions from Saguanaldo, the leader of the insurgents, and the thought of it made him furious. It showed in his face as he stood before the woman he had once loved and whom now he supported.She was deeply religious. To her, submission to the embrace of Friar Lonzello had been obedience to God’s messenger, and to this day she regarded him as a sinless representative of Deity rather than as husband. It had been many weeks since Bishop Lonzello had deigned to visit her. There were other and younger women whom he met now; still, he made no attempt to conceal the parentage of the girl, and the general knowledge that he was her father had no bearing on his standing either as a citizen or a priest.“I do not know, Holy Father,” replied the Filipino woman meekly.“You ought to know. What do you suppose will become of your daughter if you let her wander about apart from your knowledge?”“Nothing bad, I hope. I have great faith in Ambrosia.”“Nothing bad!Diablo!1Something has happened to her. Ambrosia has disgraced us and blasphemed the God of her fathers.”“Holy Father, what do you mean?”“I mean that the girl has gone astray, and you have not prevented her.”It apparently did not occur to him that both father and mother had aforetime gone astray, and that it hardly behooved them to talk of lapses of their daughter while making religious professions themselves. But the mother only turned pale and gasped.“I do not see how it can be. Tell me what you mean, Holy Father.”“Ambrosia has been meeting Saguanaldo, the enemy of his country and of religion—meeting him in secret and at night. I will not say that she has fallen from virtue, for that is not so bad as lapsing from her God and her duty. Fornication might be forgiven, but the sin against the Holy Ghost hath never forgiveness. Woman, these meetings must cease. You hear me; they must cease.”The woman trembled and mumbled. Her eyes fell as she replied:“I will do my best, Holy Father.”“Do your best! Damnation! Am I to be told that you will do your best? I tell you your daughter is the enemy of God, and you will only do your best to stop her. Do your best,Diablo!Forbid her leaving the house; keep her in prison; put her in a convent. This thing must stop. Woman, do you hear me?”The mother faltered, and crossed herself. Apparently she was willing, but had not the strength of character to enforce her will.“You speak to her, Holy Father,” she spoke hardly abovea whisper. But the irate priest turned away with an imperious gesture. As he turned Ambrosia herself entered from a side door and now confronted him.“Sin-verguenza!2” he hissed.The girl straightened in dignity. “I do not permit even my father to say that to me,” she said.“And I do not permit a daughter of mine to consort with a heretic and rebel.”The priest faced her with a sneer, and anger that shook his frame, while his fingers clasped and unclasped themselves. He looked ready to clutch her by the throat.“I owe you nothing as a father,” the young girl replied quietly but bravely, “since you did not give me even a name when you gave me life. I owe you nothing as a mediator between God and man, because your life and words have not convinced me that you have the ear of God. But I am as much above your accusations as I am above your habits.”The bishop lifted his hand and struck at her. She was young and lithe, and avoided the blow. He picked up a stone and threw at her, yet again she slipped away. Then he remembered himself, and, raising his hand, began the formal curse of the church. The girl listened with form erect and with a smile of defiance on her lips; but the mother fell on her knees and as the anathemas poured in anger from the lips of the father upon the child, she who believed they would come to pass, fell on the ground, and, writhing in agony before him, begged him to desist. But it was all in vain.“The eye that mocketh at her father, and despiseth to obey her mother, the ravens of the valley shall pluck it out, and the young vultures shall eat it,” the priest hissed; the mother groaned.The priest straightened, and, pointing his finger at his daughter, continued:“Cursed shall thou be in the city and cursed shall thou be in the field. Cursed shall be thy basket and thy store. Cursed shall be the fruit of thy body and the fruit of thy land, the increase of thy kine, and the flocks of thy sheep. Cursed shall thou be when thou comest in and cursed shall thou be when thou goest out. The Lord shall send upon thee cursing, vexation and rebuke in all that thou settest thy hand for to do, until thou be destroyed and until thou perish quickly, because of the wickedness of thy doing whereby thou hast forsaken me.”The mother lay with her face on the ground in a swoon as he concluded. The priest walked away, and the eyes of the girl, his daughter, followed him with fearless look.“You have cursed me with life,” she said. “You have cursed me before this, so that I can not even love as others do. That is the end of your power.”1Diablo—The devil. An exclamation or oath.↑2Sin-verguenza—Sin without shame.↑

V.“CURSED WITH A CURSE.”“Where is Ambrosia?”Bishop Lonzello addressed the woman who had borne a daughter to him in the home he had provided for her. He was deeply agitated with passion. The insurgents, who had elected a president and assembly, had already nationalized the friars’ lands, and the heresy of Aglipay was waxing formidable, having possession of most of the churches throughout Luzon. Lonzello had heard that his daughter Ambrosia had been receiving attentions from Saguanaldo, the leader of the insurgents, and the thought of it made him furious. It showed in his face as he stood before the woman he had once loved and whom now he supported.She was deeply religious. To her, submission to the embrace of Friar Lonzello had been obedience to God’s messenger, and to this day she regarded him as a sinless representative of Deity rather than as husband. It had been many weeks since Bishop Lonzello had deigned to visit her. There were other and younger women whom he met now; still, he made no attempt to conceal the parentage of the girl, and the general knowledge that he was her father had no bearing on his standing either as a citizen or a priest.“I do not know, Holy Father,” replied the Filipino woman meekly.“You ought to know. What do you suppose will become of your daughter if you let her wander about apart from your knowledge?”“Nothing bad, I hope. I have great faith in Ambrosia.”“Nothing bad!Diablo!1Something has happened to her. Ambrosia has disgraced us and blasphemed the God of her fathers.”“Holy Father, what do you mean?”“I mean that the girl has gone astray, and you have not prevented her.”It apparently did not occur to him that both father and mother had aforetime gone astray, and that it hardly behooved them to talk of lapses of their daughter while making religious professions themselves. But the mother only turned pale and gasped.“I do not see how it can be. Tell me what you mean, Holy Father.”“Ambrosia has been meeting Saguanaldo, the enemy of his country and of religion—meeting him in secret and at night. I will not say that she has fallen from virtue, for that is not so bad as lapsing from her God and her duty. Fornication might be forgiven, but the sin against the Holy Ghost hath never forgiveness. Woman, these meetings must cease. You hear me; they must cease.”The woman trembled and mumbled. Her eyes fell as she replied:“I will do my best, Holy Father.”“Do your best! Damnation! Am I to be told that you will do your best? I tell you your daughter is the enemy of God, and you will only do your best to stop her. Do your best,Diablo!Forbid her leaving the house; keep her in prison; put her in a convent. This thing must stop. Woman, do you hear me?”The mother faltered, and crossed herself. Apparently she was willing, but had not the strength of character to enforce her will.“You speak to her, Holy Father,” she spoke hardly abovea whisper. But the irate priest turned away with an imperious gesture. As he turned Ambrosia herself entered from a side door and now confronted him.“Sin-verguenza!2” he hissed.The girl straightened in dignity. “I do not permit even my father to say that to me,” she said.“And I do not permit a daughter of mine to consort with a heretic and rebel.”The priest faced her with a sneer, and anger that shook his frame, while his fingers clasped and unclasped themselves. He looked ready to clutch her by the throat.“I owe you nothing as a father,” the young girl replied quietly but bravely, “since you did not give me even a name when you gave me life. I owe you nothing as a mediator between God and man, because your life and words have not convinced me that you have the ear of God. But I am as much above your accusations as I am above your habits.”The bishop lifted his hand and struck at her. She was young and lithe, and avoided the blow. He picked up a stone and threw at her, yet again she slipped away. Then he remembered himself, and, raising his hand, began the formal curse of the church. The girl listened with form erect and with a smile of defiance on her lips; but the mother fell on her knees and as the anathemas poured in anger from the lips of the father upon the child, she who believed they would come to pass, fell on the ground, and, writhing in agony before him, begged him to desist. But it was all in vain.“The eye that mocketh at her father, and despiseth to obey her mother, the ravens of the valley shall pluck it out, and the young vultures shall eat it,” the priest hissed; the mother groaned.The priest straightened, and, pointing his finger at his daughter, continued:“Cursed shall thou be in the city and cursed shall thou be in the field. Cursed shall be thy basket and thy store. Cursed shall be the fruit of thy body and the fruit of thy land, the increase of thy kine, and the flocks of thy sheep. Cursed shall thou be when thou comest in and cursed shall thou be when thou goest out. The Lord shall send upon thee cursing, vexation and rebuke in all that thou settest thy hand for to do, until thou be destroyed and until thou perish quickly, because of the wickedness of thy doing whereby thou hast forsaken me.”The mother lay with her face on the ground in a swoon as he concluded. The priest walked away, and the eyes of the girl, his daughter, followed him with fearless look.“You have cursed me with life,” she said. “You have cursed me before this, so that I can not even love as others do. That is the end of your power.”1Diablo—The devil. An exclamation or oath.↑2Sin-verguenza—Sin without shame.↑

V.“CURSED WITH A CURSE.”

“Where is Ambrosia?”Bishop Lonzello addressed the woman who had borne a daughter to him in the home he had provided for her. He was deeply agitated with passion. The insurgents, who had elected a president and assembly, had already nationalized the friars’ lands, and the heresy of Aglipay was waxing formidable, having possession of most of the churches throughout Luzon. Lonzello had heard that his daughter Ambrosia had been receiving attentions from Saguanaldo, the leader of the insurgents, and the thought of it made him furious. It showed in his face as he stood before the woman he had once loved and whom now he supported.She was deeply religious. To her, submission to the embrace of Friar Lonzello had been obedience to God’s messenger, and to this day she regarded him as a sinless representative of Deity rather than as husband. It had been many weeks since Bishop Lonzello had deigned to visit her. There were other and younger women whom he met now; still, he made no attempt to conceal the parentage of the girl, and the general knowledge that he was her father had no bearing on his standing either as a citizen or a priest.“I do not know, Holy Father,” replied the Filipino woman meekly.“You ought to know. What do you suppose will become of your daughter if you let her wander about apart from your knowledge?”“Nothing bad, I hope. I have great faith in Ambrosia.”“Nothing bad!Diablo!1Something has happened to her. Ambrosia has disgraced us and blasphemed the God of her fathers.”“Holy Father, what do you mean?”“I mean that the girl has gone astray, and you have not prevented her.”It apparently did not occur to him that both father and mother had aforetime gone astray, and that it hardly behooved them to talk of lapses of their daughter while making religious professions themselves. But the mother only turned pale and gasped.“I do not see how it can be. Tell me what you mean, Holy Father.”“Ambrosia has been meeting Saguanaldo, the enemy of his country and of religion—meeting him in secret and at night. I will not say that she has fallen from virtue, for that is not so bad as lapsing from her God and her duty. Fornication might be forgiven, but the sin against the Holy Ghost hath never forgiveness. Woman, these meetings must cease. You hear me; they must cease.”The woman trembled and mumbled. Her eyes fell as she replied:“I will do my best, Holy Father.”“Do your best! Damnation! Am I to be told that you will do your best? I tell you your daughter is the enemy of God, and you will only do your best to stop her. Do your best,Diablo!Forbid her leaving the house; keep her in prison; put her in a convent. This thing must stop. Woman, do you hear me?”The mother faltered, and crossed herself. Apparently she was willing, but had not the strength of character to enforce her will.“You speak to her, Holy Father,” she spoke hardly abovea whisper. But the irate priest turned away with an imperious gesture. As he turned Ambrosia herself entered from a side door and now confronted him.“Sin-verguenza!2” he hissed.The girl straightened in dignity. “I do not permit even my father to say that to me,” she said.“And I do not permit a daughter of mine to consort with a heretic and rebel.”The priest faced her with a sneer, and anger that shook his frame, while his fingers clasped and unclasped themselves. He looked ready to clutch her by the throat.“I owe you nothing as a father,” the young girl replied quietly but bravely, “since you did not give me even a name when you gave me life. I owe you nothing as a mediator between God and man, because your life and words have not convinced me that you have the ear of God. But I am as much above your accusations as I am above your habits.”The bishop lifted his hand and struck at her. She was young and lithe, and avoided the blow. He picked up a stone and threw at her, yet again she slipped away. Then he remembered himself, and, raising his hand, began the formal curse of the church. The girl listened with form erect and with a smile of defiance on her lips; but the mother fell on her knees and as the anathemas poured in anger from the lips of the father upon the child, she who believed they would come to pass, fell on the ground, and, writhing in agony before him, begged him to desist. But it was all in vain.“The eye that mocketh at her father, and despiseth to obey her mother, the ravens of the valley shall pluck it out, and the young vultures shall eat it,” the priest hissed; the mother groaned.The priest straightened, and, pointing his finger at his daughter, continued:“Cursed shall thou be in the city and cursed shall thou be in the field. Cursed shall be thy basket and thy store. Cursed shall be the fruit of thy body and the fruit of thy land, the increase of thy kine, and the flocks of thy sheep. Cursed shall thou be when thou comest in and cursed shall thou be when thou goest out. The Lord shall send upon thee cursing, vexation and rebuke in all that thou settest thy hand for to do, until thou be destroyed and until thou perish quickly, because of the wickedness of thy doing whereby thou hast forsaken me.”The mother lay with her face on the ground in a swoon as he concluded. The priest walked away, and the eyes of the girl, his daughter, followed him with fearless look.“You have cursed me with life,” she said. “You have cursed me before this, so that I can not even love as others do. That is the end of your power.”

“Where is Ambrosia?”

Bishop Lonzello addressed the woman who had borne a daughter to him in the home he had provided for her. He was deeply agitated with passion. The insurgents, who had elected a president and assembly, had already nationalized the friars’ lands, and the heresy of Aglipay was waxing formidable, having possession of most of the churches throughout Luzon. Lonzello had heard that his daughter Ambrosia had been receiving attentions from Saguanaldo, the leader of the insurgents, and the thought of it made him furious. It showed in his face as he stood before the woman he had once loved and whom now he supported.

She was deeply religious. To her, submission to the embrace of Friar Lonzello had been obedience to God’s messenger, and to this day she regarded him as a sinless representative of Deity rather than as husband. It had been many weeks since Bishop Lonzello had deigned to visit her. There were other and younger women whom he met now; still, he made no attempt to conceal the parentage of the girl, and the general knowledge that he was her father had no bearing on his standing either as a citizen or a priest.

“I do not know, Holy Father,” replied the Filipino woman meekly.

“You ought to know. What do you suppose will become of your daughter if you let her wander about apart from your knowledge?”

“Nothing bad, I hope. I have great faith in Ambrosia.”

“Nothing bad!Diablo!1Something has happened to her. Ambrosia has disgraced us and blasphemed the God of her fathers.”

“Holy Father, what do you mean?”

“I mean that the girl has gone astray, and you have not prevented her.”

It apparently did not occur to him that both father and mother had aforetime gone astray, and that it hardly behooved them to talk of lapses of their daughter while making religious professions themselves. But the mother only turned pale and gasped.

“I do not see how it can be. Tell me what you mean, Holy Father.”

“Ambrosia has been meeting Saguanaldo, the enemy of his country and of religion—meeting him in secret and at night. I will not say that she has fallen from virtue, for that is not so bad as lapsing from her God and her duty. Fornication might be forgiven, but the sin against the Holy Ghost hath never forgiveness. Woman, these meetings must cease. You hear me; they must cease.”

The woman trembled and mumbled. Her eyes fell as she replied:

“I will do my best, Holy Father.”

“Do your best! Damnation! Am I to be told that you will do your best? I tell you your daughter is the enemy of God, and you will only do your best to stop her. Do your best,Diablo!Forbid her leaving the house; keep her in prison; put her in a convent. This thing must stop. Woman, do you hear me?”

The mother faltered, and crossed herself. Apparently she was willing, but had not the strength of character to enforce her will.

“You speak to her, Holy Father,” she spoke hardly abovea whisper. But the irate priest turned away with an imperious gesture. As he turned Ambrosia herself entered from a side door and now confronted him.

“Sin-verguenza!2” he hissed.

The girl straightened in dignity. “I do not permit even my father to say that to me,” she said.

“And I do not permit a daughter of mine to consort with a heretic and rebel.”

The priest faced her with a sneer, and anger that shook his frame, while his fingers clasped and unclasped themselves. He looked ready to clutch her by the throat.

“I owe you nothing as a father,” the young girl replied quietly but bravely, “since you did not give me even a name when you gave me life. I owe you nothing as a mediator between God and man, because your life and words have not convinced me that you have the ear of God. But I am as much above your accusations as I am above your habits.”

The bishop lifted his hand and struck at her. She was young and lithe, and avoided the blow. He picked up a stone and threw at her, yet again she slipped away. Then he remembered himself, and, raising his hand, began the formal curse of the church. The girl listened with form erect and with a smile of defiance on her lips; but the mother fell on her knees and as the anathemas poured in anger from the lips of the father upon the child, she who believed they would come to pass, fell on the ground, and, writhing in agony before him, begged him to desist. But it was all in vain.

“The eye that mocketh at her father, and despiseth to obey her mother, the ravens of the valley shall pluck it out, and the young vultures shall eat it,” the priest hissed; the mother groaned.

The priest straightened, and, pointing his finger at his daughter, continued:

“Cursed shall thou be in the city and cursed shall thou be in the field. Cursed shall be thy basket and thy store. Cursed shall be the fruit of thy body and the fruit of thy land, the increase of thy kine, and the flocks of thy sheep. Cursed shall thou be when thou comest in and cursed shall thou be when thou goest out. The Lord shall send upon thee cursing, vexation and rebuke in all that thou settest thy hand for to do, until thou be destroyed and until thou perish quickly, because of the wickedness of thy doing whereby thou hast forsaken me.”

The mother lay with her face on the ground in a swoon as he concluded. The priest walked away, and the eyes of the girl, his daughter, followed him with fearless look.

“You have cursed me with life,” she said. “You have cursed me before this, so that I can not even love as others do. That is the end of your power.”

1Diablo—The devil. An exclamation or oath.↑2Sin-verguenza—Sin without shame.↑

1Diablo—The devil. An exclamation or oath.↑

2Sin-verguenza—Sin without shame.↑

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