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Updated: May 23, 2025
The imprecation could be expanded, since he could talk of religion, of the faith, of charity, of the ringing of bells, of what the Indians owed to the friars, he could get sentimental and melt into Castelarian epigrams and lyric periods. The señoritas of the city would read the article and murmur, "Ben-Zayb, bold as a lion and tender as a lamb!"
But neither Simoun, nor Ben-Zayb, nor Padre Irene, nor Padre Camorra knew it, so they begged for the story, some in jest and others from genuine curiosity. The priest, adopting the tone of burlesque with which some had made their request, began like an old tutor relating a story to children.
He's a good fellow, and a great friend of mine, but has one defect he's a Chinese mestizo and yet calls himself a Peninsular Spaniard. Sssh! Look at Ben-Zayb, him with the face of a friar, who's carrying a pencil and a roll of paper in his hand. He's the great writer, Ben-Zayb, a good friend of mine he has talent!" "You don't say! And that little man with white whiskers?"
The artillerymen were not the least noisy. Emulators of Mars, as Ben-Zayb called them, they were not satisfied with this music; thinking themselves perhaps at a bullfight, they made remarks at the ladies who passed before them in words that are euphemistically called flowers in Madrid, although at times they seem more like foul weeds.
Ben-Zayb, having been appointed critic and translator of the synopsis, trembled like a poor woman accused of witchcraft, as he saw his enemies picking out his blunders and throwing up to his face his deficient knowledge of French.
Padre Camorra, who could not attend, watered at the eyes and mouth, but argued with Ben-Zayb, who defended them feebly, thinking of the free tickets they would send his newspaper. Don Custodio spoke of morality, religion, good manners, and the like. "But," stammered the writer, "if our own farces with their plays on words and phrases of double meaning "
"Wherever he may be found " The sentence was completed with an expressive pantomime. Don Custodio raised both arms to the height of his face, with the right more bent than the left, turned the palms of his hands toward the floor, closed one eye, and made two movements in advance. "Ssh! Ssh!" he hissed. "And the diamonds?" inquired Ben-Zayb.
Such a sacrifice could not remain unrewarded, the gods of journalism being pleased with Abraham Ben-Zayb. Almost upon the hour came the reporting angel bearing the sacrificial lamb in the shape of an assault committed at a country-house on the Pasig, where certain friars were spending the heated season. Here was his opportunity and Ben-Zayb praised his gods.
What chiefly concerned Ben-Zayb was not to throw away the article, to give importance to the affair, so that he could use the peroration. But a fearful rumor cut short their dispute. The robbers caught had made some important revelations.
After blowing out two or three puffs of smoke, coughing, and spitting through a scupper, he slapped Ben-Zayb on the thigh and asked, "You've seen ducks?" "I rather think so we've hunted them on the lake," answered the surprised journalist. "No, I'm not talking about wild ducks, I'm talking of the domestic ones, of those that are raised in Pateros and Pasig. Do you know what they feed on?"
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