百年孤独(英文版)-第13部分

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　her。　She　let　out　a　laugh　that　in　other　times　frightened　the　doves　and　that　now　did　not　even　wake　up　the　children。　“You’ll　have　to　raise　her　first；？she　mocked；　but　underneath　the　mockery　Aureliano　found　a　reservoir　of　understanding。　When　he　went　out　of　the　room；　leaving　behind　not　only　his　doubts　about　his　virility　but　also　the　bitter　weight　that　his　heart　had　borne　for　so　many　months；　Pilar　Ternera　made　him　a　spontaneous　promise。
　　　“I’m　going　to　talk　to　the　girl；？she　told　him；　“and　you’ll　see　what　I’ll　serve　her　on　the　tray。？
　　　She　kept　her　promise。　But　it　was　a　bad　moment；　because　the　house　had　lost　its　peace　of　former　days。　When　she　discovered　Rebeca’s　passion；　which　was　impossible　to　keep　secret　because　of　her　shouts；　Amaranta　suffered　an　attack　of　fever。　She　also　suffered　from　the　barb　of　a　lonely　love。　Shut　up　in　the　bathroom；　she　would　release　herself　from　the　torment　of　a　hopeless　passion　by　writing　feverish　letters；　which　she　finally　hid　in　the　bottom　of　her　trunk。　？rsula　barely　had　the　strength　to　take　care　of　the　two　sick　girls。　She　was　unable；　after　prolonged　and　insidious　interrogations；　to　ascertain　the　causes　of　Amaranta’s　prostration。　Finally；　in　another　moment　of　inspiration；　she　forced　the　lock　on　the　trunk　and　found　the　letters　tied　with　a　pink　ribbon；　swollen　with　fresh　lilies　and　still　wet　with　tears；　addressed　and　never　sent　to　Pietro　Crespi。　Weeping　with　rage；　she　cursed　the　day　that　it　had　occurred　to　her　to　buy　the　pianola；　and　she　forbade　the　embroidery　lessons　and　decreed　a　kind　of　mourning　with　no　one　dead　which　was　to　be　prolonged　until　the　daughters　got　over　their　hopes。　Useless　was　the　intervention　of　Jos？Arcadio　Buendía；　who　had　modified　his　first　impression　of　Pietro　Crespi　and　admired　his　ability　in　the　manipulation　of　musical　machines。　So　that　when　Pilar　Ternera　told　Aureliano　that　Remedios　had　decided　on　marriage；　he　could　see　that　the　news　would　only　give　his　parents　more　trouble。　Invited　to　the　parlor　for　a　formal　interview；　Jos？Arcadio　Buendía　and　？rsula　listened　stonily　to　their　son’s　declaration。　When　he　learned　the　name　of　the　fiancée；　however；　Jos？Arcadio　Buendía　grew　red　with　indignation。　“Love　is　a　disease；？he　thundered。　“With　so　many　pretty　and　decent　girls　around；　the　only　thing　that　occurs　to　you　is　to　get　married　to　the　daughter　of　our　enemy。？But　？rsula　agreed　with　the　choice。　She　confessed　her　affection　for　the　seven　Moscote　sisters。　for　their　beauty；　their　ability　for　work；　their　modesty；　and　their　good　manners；　and　she　celebrated　her　son’s　prudence。　Conquered　by　his　wife’s　enthusiasm；　Jos？Arcadio　Buendía　then　laid　down　one　condition：　Rebeca；　who　was　the　one　he　wanted；　would　marry　Pietro　Crespi。　？rsula　would　take　Amaranta　on　a　trip　to　the　capital　of　the　province　when　she　had　time；　so　that　contact　with　different　people　would　alleviate　her　disappointment。　Rebeca　got　her　health　back　just　as　soon　as　she　heard　of　the　agreement；　and　she　wrote　her　fianc？a　jubilant　letter　that　she　submitted　to　her　parents？approval　and　put　into　the　mail　without　the　use　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　courty