“Oh, stay!” said Sinang. “Yeyeng is going to dance!”
“I cannot, little friend.”
While Yeyeng was coming forward, two soldiers of the guard approached Don Filipo and demanded that the representation be stopped.
“And why?” he asked in surprise.
“Because the alférez and his wife have been fighting; they want to sleep.”
“Tell the alférez we have the permission of the alcalde of the province, and nobody in the pueblo can overrule that, not even the gobernadorcillo.”
“But we have our orders to stop the performance.”
Don Filipo shrugged his shoulders and turned his back. The Comedy Company of Tondo was about to give a play, and the audience was settling for its enjoyment.
The Filipino is passionately fond of the theatre; he listens in silence, never hisses, and applauds with measure. Does not the spectacle please him? He chews his buyo and goes out quietly, not to trouble those who may like it. He expects in his plays a combat every fifteen seconds, and all the rest of the time repartee between comic personages, or terrifying metamorphoses. The comedy chosen for this fête was “Prince Villardo, or the Nails Drawn from the Cellar of Infamy,” comedy with sorcery and fireworks.
Prince Villardo presented himself, defying the Moors, who held his father prisoner. He threatened to cut off all their heads at a single stroke and send them into the moon.