百年孤独(英文版)-第10部分

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of　any　intermediaries。　Amaranta　pretended　to　accept　the　decision　and　little　by　little　she　recovered　from　her　fevers；　but　she　promised　herself　that　Rebeca　would　marry　only　over　her　dead　body。
　　　The　following　Saturday　Jos？Arcadio　Buendía　put　on　his　dark　suit；　his　celluloid　collar；　and　the　deerskin　boots　that　he　had　worn　for　the　first　time　the　night　of　the　party；　and　went　to　ask　for　the　hand　of　Remedios　Moscote。　The　magistrate　and　his　wife　received　him；　pleased　and　worried　at　the　same　time；　for　they　did　not　know　the　reason　for　the　unexpected　visit；　and　then　they　thought　that　he　was　confused　about　the　name　of　the　intended　bride。　In　order　to　remove　the　mistake；　the　mother　woke　Remedios　up　and　carried　her　into　the　living　room；　still　drowsy　from　sleep。　They　asked　her　if　it　was　true　that　she　had　decided　to　get　married；　and　she　answered；　whimpering；　that　she　only　wanted　them　to　let　her　sleep。　Jos？Arcadio　Buendía；　understanding　the　distress　of　the　Moscotes；　went　to　clear　things　up　with　Aureliano。　When　he　returned；　the　Moscotes　had　put　on　formal　clothing；　had　rearranged　the　furniture　and　put　fresh　flowers　in　the　vases；　and　were　waiting　in　the　pany　of　their　older　daughters。　Overwhelmed　by　the　unpleasantness　of　the　occasion　and　the　bothersome　hard　collar；　Jos？Arcadio　Buendía　confirmed　the　fact　that　Remedios；　indeed；　was　the　chosen　one。　“It　doesn’t　make　sense；？Don　Apolinar　Moscote　said　with　consternation。　“We　have　six　other　daughters；　all　unmarried；　and　at　an　age　where　they　deserve　it；　who　would　be　delighted　to　be　the　honorable　wife　of　a　gentleman　as　serious　and　hardworking　as　your　son；　and　Aurelito　lays　his　eyes　precisely　on　the　one　who　still　wets　her　bed。？His　wife；　a　wellpreserved　woman　with　afflicted　eyelids　and　expression；　scolded　his　mistake。　When　they　finished　the　fruit　punch；　they　willingly　accepted　Aureliano’s　decision。　Except　that　Se？ora　Moscote　begged　the　favor　of　speaking　to　？rsula　alone。　Intrigued；　protesting　that　they　were　involving　her　in　men’s　affairs；　but　really　feeling　deep　emotion；　？rsula　went　to　visit　her　the　next　day。　A　half　hour　later　she　returned　with　the　news　that　Remedios　had　not　reached　puberty。　Aureliano　did　not　consider　that　a　serious　barrier。　He　had　waited　so　long　that　he　could　wait　as　long　as　was　necessary　until　his　bride　reached　the　age　of　conception。
　　　The　newfound　harmony　was　interrupted　by　the　death　of　Melquíades。　Although　it　was　a　foreseeable　event；　the　circumstances　were　not。　A　few　months　after　his　return；　a　process　of　aging　had　taken　place　in　him　that　was　so　rapid　and　critical　that　soon　he　was　treated　as　one　of　those　useless　greatgrandfathers　who　wander　about　the　bedrooms　like　shades；　dragging　their　feet；　remembering　better　times　aloud；　and　whom　no　one　bothers　about　or　remembers　really　until　the　morning　they　find　them　dead　in　their　bed。　At　first　Jos？Arcadio　Buendía　helped　him　in　his　work；　enthusiastic　over　the　novelty　of　the　daguerreotypes　and　the　predictions　of　Nostradamus。　But　little　by　little　he　began　abandoning　him　to　his　solitude；　for　munication　was　being　Increasingly　difficult。　He　was　losing　his　sight　and　his　hearing；　he　seemed　to　confuse　the　people　he　was　speaking　to　with　others　he　had　known　in　remote　epochs　of　mankind；　and　he　would　answer　questions　with　a　plex　hodgepodge　of　languages。　He　would　walk　along　groping　in　the　air；　although　he　passed　between　objects　with　an　inexplicable　fluidity；　as　if　be　were　endowed　with　some　instinct　of　direction　based　on　an　immediate　prescience。　One　day　he　fot　to　put　in　his　false　teeth；　which　at　night　he　left　in　a　glass　of　water　beside　his　bed；　and　he　never　put　them　in　again。　When　？rsula　undertook　the　enlargement　of　the　house；　she　had　them　build　him　a　special　room　next　to　Aureliano’s　workshop；　far　from　the　noise　and　bustle　of　the　house；　with　a　window　flooded　with　light　and　a　bookcase　where　she　herself　put　in　order　the　books　that　were　almost　destroyed　by　dust　and　moths；　the　flaky　stacks　of　paper　covered　with　indecipherable　signs；　and　the　glass　with　his　false　teeth；　where　some　aquatic　plants　with　tiny　yellow　flowers　had　taken　root。　The　new　place　seemed　to　please　Melquíades；　because　he　was　never　seen　any　more；　not　even　in　the　dining　room；　He　only　went　to　Aureliano’s　workshop；　where　he　would　spend　hours　on　end　scribbling　his　enigmatic　literature　on　the　parchments　that　he　had　brought　with　him　and　that　seemed　to　have　been　made　out　of　some　dry　material　that　crumpled　like　puff　paste。　There　he　ate　the　meals　that　Visitación　brought　him　twice　a　day；　although　in　the　last　days　he　lost　his　appetite　and　fed　only　on　vegetables。　He　soon　acquired　the　forlorn　look　that　one　sees　in　vegetarians。　His　skin　became　covered　with　a　thin　moss；　similar　to　that　which　flourished　on　the　antique　vest　that　he　never　took　off；　and　his　breath　exhaled　the　odor　of　a　sleeping　animal。　Aureliano　ended　up　fetting　about　him；　absorbed　in　the　position　of　his　poems；　but　on　one　occasion　he　thought　he　understood　something　of　what　Melquíades　was　saying　in　his　groping　monologues；　and　he　paid　attention。　In　reality；　the　only　thing　that　could　be　isolated　in　the　rocky　paragraphs　was　the　insistent　hammering　on　the　word　equinox；　equinox；　equinox；　and　the　name　of　Alexander　von　Humboldt。　Arcadio　got　a　little　closer　to　him　when　he　began　to　help　Aureliano　in　his　silverwork。　Melquíades　answered　that　effort　at　munication　at　times　by　giving　forth　with　phrases　in　Spanish　that　had　very　little　to　do　with　reality。　One　afternoon；　however；　he　seemed　to　be　illuminated　by　a　sudden　emotion。　Years　later；　facing　the　firing　squad；　Arcadio　would　remember　the　trembling　with　which　Melquíades　made　him　listen　to　several　pages　of　his　impenetrable　writing；　which　of　course　he　did　not　understand；　but　which　when　read　aloud　were　like　encyclicals　being　chanted。　Then　he　smiled　for　the　first　time　in　a　long　while　and　said　in　Spanish：　“When　I　die；　burn　mercury　in　my　room　for　three　days。？Arcadio　told　that　to　Jos？Arcadio　Buendía　and　the　latter　tried　to　get　more　explicit　information；　but　he　received　only　one　answer：　“I　have　found　immortality。？When　Melquíades？breathing　began　to　smell；　Arcadio　took　him　to　bathe　in　the　river　on　Thursday　mornings。　He　seemed　to　get　better。　He　would　undress　and　get　into　the　water　with　the　boys；　and　his　mysterious　sense　of　orientation　would　allow　him　to　avoid　the　deep　and　dangerous　spots。　“We　e　from　the　water；？he　said　on　a　certain　occasion。　Much　time　passed　in　that　way　without　anyone’s　seeing　him　in　the　house　except　on　the　night　when　he　made　a　pathetic　effort　to　fix　the　pianola；　and　when　he　would　go　to　the　river　with　Arcadio；　carrying　under　his　arm　a　gourd　and　a　bar　of　palm　oil　soap　wrapped　in　a　towel。　One　Thursday　before　they　called　him　to　go　to　the　river；　Aureliano　heard　him　say：　“I　have　died　of　fever　on　the　dunes　of　Singapore。？That　day　he　went　into　the　water　at　a　bad　spot　and　they　did　not　find　him　until　the　following　day；　a　few　miles　downstream；　washed　up　on　a　bright　bend　in　the　river　and　with　a　solitary　vulture　sitting　on　his　stomach。　Over　the　scandalized　protests　of　？rsula；　who　wept　with　more　grief　than　she　had　had　for　her　own　father；　Jos？Arcadio　Buendía　was　opposed　to　their　burying　him。　“He　is　immortal；？he　said；　“and　he　himself　revealed　the　formula　of　his　resurrection。？He　brought　out　the　fotten　water　pipe　and　put　a　kettle　of　mercury　to　boil　next　to　the　body；　which　little　by　little　was　filling　with　blue　bubbles。　Don　Apolinar　Moscote　ventured　to　remind　him　that　an　unburied　drowned　man　was　a　danger　to　public　health。　“None　of　that；　because　he’s　alive；？was　the　answer　of　Jos？Arcadio　Buendía；　who　finished　the　seventytwo　hours　with　the　mercurial　incense　as　the　body　was　already　beginning　to　burst　with　a　livid　fluorescence；　the　soft　whistles　of　which　impregnated　the　house　with　a　pestilential　vapor。　Only　then　did　he　permit　them　to　bury　him；　not　in　any　ordinary　way；　but　with　the　honors　reserved　for　Macondo’s　greatest　benefactor。　It　was　the　first　burial　and　the　bestattended　one　that　was　ever　seen　in　the　town；　only　surpassed；　a　century　later；　by　Big　Mama’s　funeral　carnival。　They　buried　him　in　a　grave　dug　in　the　center　of　the　plot　destined　for　the　cemetery；　with　a　stone　on　which　they　wrote　the　only　thing　they　knew　about　him：　MELQU？ADES。　They　gave　him　his　nine　nights　of　wake。　In　the　tumult　that　gathered　in　the　courtyard　to　drink　coffee；　tell　jokes；　and　play　cards。　Amaranta　found　a　chance　to　confess　her　love　to　Pietro　Crespi；　who　a　few　weeks　before　had　formalized　his　promise　to　Rebeca　and　had　set　up　a　store　for　musical　instruments　and　mechanical　toys　in　the　same　section　where　the　Arabs　had　lingered　in　other　times　swapping　knickknacks　for　macaws；　and　which　the　people　called　the　Street　of　the　Turks。　The　Italian；　whose　head　covered　with　patent　leather　curls　aroused　in　women　an　irrepressible　need　to　sigh；　dealt　with　Amaranta　as　with　a　capricious　little　girl　who　was　not　worth　taking　seriously。
　　　“I　have　a　younger　brother；？he　told　her。　“He’s　ing　to　help　me　in　the　store。？
　　　Amaranta　felt　humiliated　and　told　Pietro　Crespi　with　a　virulent　anger　that　she　was　prepared　to　stop　her　sister’s　wedding　even　if　her　own　dead　body　had　to　lie　across　the　door。　The　Italian　was　so　impressed　by　the　dramatics　of　the　threat　that　he　could　not　resist　the　temptation　to　mention　it　to　Rebeca。　That　was　how　Amaranta’s　trip；　always　put　off　by　？rsula’s　work；　was　arranged　in　less　than　a　week。　Amaranta　put　up　no　resistance；　but　when　she　kissed　Rebeca　goodbye　she　whispered　in　her　ear：
　　　“Don’t　get　your　hopes　up。　Even　if　they　send　me　to　the　ends　of　the　earth　I’ll　find　some　way　of　stopping　you　from　getting　married；　even　if　I　have　to　kill　you。？
　　　With　the　absence　of　？rsula；　with　the　invisible　presence　of　Melquíades；　who　continued　his　stealthy　shuffling　through　the　rooms；　the　house　seemed　enormous　and　empty。　Rebeca　took　charge　of　domestic　order；　while　the　Indian　woman　took　care　of　the　bakery。　At　dusk；　when　Pietro　Crespi　would　arrive；　preceded　by　a　cool　breath　of　lavender　and　always　bringing　a　toy　as　a　gift；　his　fiancée　would　receive　the　visitor　in　the　main　parlor　with　doors　and　windows　open　to　be　safe　from　any　suspicion。　It　was　an　unnecessary　precaution；　for　the　Italian　had　shown　himself　to　be　so　respectful　that　he　did　not　even　touch　the　hand　of　the　woman　who　was　going　to　be　his　wife　within　the　year。　Those　visits　were　filling　the　house　with　remarkable　toys。　Mechanical　ballerinas；　music　boxes；　acrobatic　monkeys；　trotting　horses；　clowns　who　played　the　tambourine：　the　rich　and　startling　mechanical　fauna　that　Pietro　Crespi　brought　dissipated　Jos？Arcadio　Buendía’s　affliction　over　the　death　of　Melquíades　and　carried　him　back　to　his　old　days　as　an　alchemist。　He　lived　at　that　time　in　a　paradise　of　disemboweled　animals；　of　mechanisms　that　had　been　taken　apart　in　an　attempt　to　perfect　them　with　a　system　of　perpetual　motion　based　upon　the　principles　of　the　pendulum。　Aureliano；　for　his　part；　had　neglected　the　workshop　in　order　to　teach　little　Remedios　to　read　and　write。　At　first　the　child　preferred　her　dolls　to　the　man　who　would　e　every　afternoon　and　who　was　responsible　for　her　being　separated　from　her　toys　in　order　to　be　bathed　and　dressed　and　seated　in　the　parlor　to　receive　the　visitor。　But　Aureliano’s　patience　and　devotion　finally　won　her　over；　up　to　the　point　where　she　would　spend　many　hours　with　him　studying　the　meaning　of　the　letters　and　sketching　in　a　notebook　with　colored　pencils　little　houses　with　cows　in　the　corral　and　round　suns　with　yellow　rays　that　hid　behind　the　hills。
　　　Only　Rebeca　was　unhappy；　because　of　Amaranta’s　threat。　She　knew　her　sister’s　character；　the　haughtiness　of　her　spirit；　and　she　was　frightened　by　the　virulence　of　her　anger。　She　would　spend　whole　hours　sucking　her　finger　in　the　bathroom；　holding　herself　back　with　an　exhausting　iron　will　so　as　not　to　eat　earth。　In　search　of　some　relief　for　her　uncertainty；　she　called　Pilar　Ternera　to　read　her　future。　After　a　string　of　conventional　vagaries；　Pilar　Ternera　predicted：
　　　“You　will　not　be　happy　as　long　as　your　parents　remain　unburied。？
　　　Rebeca　shuddered。　As　in　the　memory　of　a　dream　she　saw　herself　entering　the　house　as　a　very　small　girl；　with　the　trunk　and　the　little　rocker；　and　a　bag　whose　contents　she　had　never　known。　She　remembered　a　bald　gentleman　dressed　in　linen　and　with　his　collar　closed　by　a　gold　button；　who　had　nothing　to　do　with　the　king　of　hearts。　She　remembered　a　very　young　and　beautiful　woman　with　warm　and　perfumed　hands；　who　had　nothing　in　mon　with　the　jack　of　diamonds　and　his　rheumatic　hands；　and　who　used　to　put　flowers　in　her　hair　and　take　her　out　walking　in　the　afternoon　through　a　town　with　green　streets。
　　　“I　don’t　understand；？she　said。
　　　Pilar　Ternera　seemed　disconcerted：
　　　“I　don’t　either；　but　that’s　what　the　cards　say。？
　　　Rebeca　was　so　preoccupied　with　the　enigma　that　she　told　it　to　Jos？Arcadio　Buendía；　and　he　scolded　her　for　believing　in　the　predictions　of　the　cards；　but　he　undertook　the　silent　task　of　searching　closets　and　trunks；　moving　furniture　and　turning　over　beds　and　floorboards　looking　for　the　bag　of　bones。　He　remembered　that　he　had　not　seen　it　since　the　time　of　the　rebuilding。　He　secretly　summoned　the　masons　and　one　of　them　revealed　that　he　had　walled　up　the　bag　in　some　bedroom　because　it　bothered　him　in　his　work。　After　several　days　of　listening；　with　their　ears　against　the　walls；　they　perceived　the　deep　cloccloc。　They　penetrated　the　wall　and　there　were　the　bones　in　the　intact　bag。　They　buried　it　the　same　day　in　a　grave　without　a　stone　next　to　that　of　Melquíades；　and　Jos？Arcadio　Buendía　returned　home　free　of　a　burden　that　for　a　moment　had　weighed　on　his　conscience　as　much　as　the　memory　of　Prudencio　Aguilar。　When　he　went　through　the　kitchen　he　kissed　Rebeca　on　the　forehead。
　　　“Get　those　bad　thoughts　out　of　your　head；？he　told　her。　“You’re　going　to　be　happy。？
　　　The　friendship　with　Rebeca　opened　up　to　Pilar　Ternera　the　doors　of　the　house；　closed　by　？rsula　since　the　birth　of　Arcadio。　She　would　arrive　at　any　hour　of　the　day；　like　a　flock　of　goats；　and　would　unleash　her　feverish　energy　in　the　hardest　tasks。　Sometimes　she　would　go　into　the　workshop　and　help　Arcadio　sensitize　the　daguerreotype　plates　with　an　efficiency　and　a　tenderness　that　ended　up　by　confusing　him。　That　woman　bothered　him。　The　tan　of　her　skin；　her　smell　of　smoke；　the　disorder　of　her　laughter　in　the　darkroom　distracted　his　attention　and　made　him　bump　into　things。
　　　On　a　certain　occasion　Aureliano　was　there　working　on　his　silver；　and　Pilar　Ternera　leaned　over　the　table　to　admire　his　laborious　patience。　Suddenly　it　happened。　Aureliano　made　sure　that　Arcadio　was　in　the　darkroom　before　raising　his　eyes　and　meeting　those　of　Pilar　Ternera；　whose　thought　was　perfectly　visible；　as　if　exposed　to　the　light　of　noon。
　　　“Well；？Aureliano　said。　“Tell　me　what　it　is。？
　　　Pilar　Ternera　bit　her　lips　with　a　sad　smile。
　　　“That　you’d　be　good　in　a　war；？she　said。　“Where　you　put　your　eye；　you　put　your　bullet。？
　　　Aureliano　relaxed　with　the　proof　of　the　omen。　He　went　back　to　concentrate　on　his　work　as　if　nothing　had　happened；　and　his　voice　took　on　a　restful　strength。
　　　“I　will　recognize　him；？he　said。　“He’ll　bear　my　name。？
　　　Jos？Arcadio　Buendía　finally　got　what　he　was　looking　for：　he　connected　the　mechanism　of　the　clock　to　a　mechanical　ballerina；　and　the　toy　danced　uninterruptedly　to　the　rhythm　of　her　own　music　for　three　days。　That　discovery　excited　him　much　more　than　any　of　his　other　ha