Legend of the Dama de Noche
A thousand years ago, there
was a rich maharlika, or nobleman, who spent his early bachelor days
recklessly, wining and dining in the company of nobility. He drank the finest
wines, ate the most delectable food and enjoyed the company of the loveliest,
perfumed and bejewelled women of the noble class.
After years of this kind of
life, the maharlika finally felt it was time to settle down and marry the woman
of his choice. "But who is the woman to choose?" he asked himself as
he sat in the rich splendour of his home, "All the women I know are
beautiful and charming, but I am tired of the glitter of their jewels and the
richness of their clothes!" He wanted a woman different from all the women
he saw day and night, and found this in a simple village lass. She was charming
in her own unaffected ways, and her name was Dama.
They married and lived
contentedly. She loved him and took care of him. She pampered him with the most
delicious dishes, and kept his home and his clothes in order. But soon, the
newness wore off for the maharlika. He started to long for the company of his
friends. He took a good look at his wife and thought, she is not beautiful and
she does not have the air of nobility abouther, she does not talk with wisdom.
And so the maharlika returned to his own world of glitter and splendor. He
spent his evenings sitting around with his friends in their noble homes , drank
and talked till the first rays of the sun peeped from the iron grills of their
ornate windows.
Poor Dama felt that she was
losing her husband. She wept in the silence of their bedroom. "I cannot
give my husband anything but the delights of my kitchen and the warmth of my
bed. He is tired of me." She looked to the heavens. "Oh, friendly
spirits! Help me. Give me a magic charm. Just one little magic charm to make my
husband come home again, that he will never want to leave my side,
forever!"
It was midnight when the
maharlika came home. He opened the door of their bedroom and called for Dama to
tell her to prepare his nightclothes. "Dama! Dama, where are you?" he
called. He shouted all around the bedroom. He sarched the whole house. Still
the nobleman could not find his simple wife. Finally the nobleman returned to
their bedroom, tired and cross. But, as he opened the door, he stopped.
A are scent, sweet and fragrant,
drifted to him. It was a scent he had never smelled before. He entered the room
and crossed to the window where the scent seemed to be floating from. A strange
bush was growing outside the window. Some of its thin branches had aleady
reached the iron grills and were twisting around. And all over the bush were
thousands of tiny starlike, white flowers, from which burst forth a heavenly,
enchanting scent!
He stood there, completely
enraptured by the glorious smell. "Dama..." he whispered softly,
onderingly, could this be Dama? The rich maharlika sat by the window, and
waited for the return of his loving simple wife. But she did not come back. She
never returned to him again. Only the fragrance of the flowers stayed with him,
casting a spell over his whole being.
In the moonlight, Dama of
the night, or Dama de Noche would be in full bloom, capturing the rich
maharlika, making him never want to leave her side, forever.
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