百年孤独(英文版)-第47部分

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at　at　ten　o’clock　the　rain　had　grown　stronger　and　someone　ran　past　the　workshop　shouting　to　close　the　doors　before　the　house　was　flooded；　and　without　thinking　even　about　himself　until　？rsula　came　in　with　his　lunch　and　turned　out　the　light。
　　　“What　a　rain！？？rsula　said。
　　　“October；？he　said。
　　　When　he　said　it　he　did　not　raise　his　eyes　from　the　first　little　fish　of　the　day　because　he　was　putting　in　the　rubies　for　the　eyes。　Only　when　he　finished　it　and　put　it　with　the　others　in　the　pail　did　he　begin　to　drink　the　soup。　Then；　very　slowly；　he　ate　the　piece　of　meat　roasted　with　onions；　the　white　rice；　and　the　slices　of　fried　bananas　all　on　the　same　plate　together。　His　appetite　did　not　change　under　either　the　best　or　the　harshest　of　circumstances。　After　lunch　he　felt　the　drowsiness　of　inactivity。　Because　of　a　kind　of　scientific　superstition　he　never　worked；　or　read；　or　bathed；　or　made　love　until　two　hours　of　digestion　had　gone　by；　and　it　was　such　a　deeprooted　belief　that　several　times　he　held　up　military　operations　so　as　not　to　submit　the　troops　to　the　risks　of　indigestion。　So　he　lay　down　in　the　hammock；　removing　the　wax　from　his　ears　with　a　penknife；　and　in　a　few　minutes　he　was　asleep。　He　dreamed　that　he　was　going　into　an　empty　house　with　white　walls　and　that　he　was　upset　by　the　burden　of　being　the　first　human　being　to　enter　it。　In　the　dream　he　remembered　that　he　had　dreamed　the　same　thing　the　night　before　and　on　many　nights　over　the　past　years　and　he　knew　that　the　image　would　be　erased　from　his　memory　when　he　awakened　because　that　recurrent　dream　had　the　quality　of　not　being　remembered　except　within　the　dream　itself。　A　moment　later；　indeed；　when　the　barber　knocked　at　the　workshop　door；　Colonel　Aureliano　Buendía　awoke　with　the　impression　that　he　had　fallen　asleep　involuntarily　for　a　few　seconds　and　that　he　had　not　had　time　to　dream　anything。
　　　“Not　today。？he　told　the　barber。　“We’ll　make　it　on　Friday。？
　　　He　had　a　threeday　beard　speckled　with　white　hairs；　but　he　did　not　think　it　necessary　to　shave　because　on　Friday　he　was　going　to　have　his　hair　cut　and　it　could　all　be　done　at　the　same　time。　The　sticky　sweat　of　the　unwanted　siesta　aroused　the　scars　of　the　sores　in　his　armpits。　The　sky　had　cleared　but　the　sun　had　not　e　out。　Colonel　Aureliano　Buendía　released　a　sonorous　belch　which　brought　back　the　acidity　of　the　soup　to　his　palate　and　which　was　like　a　mand　from　his　anism　to　throw　his　blanket　over　his　shoulders　and　go　to　the　toilet。　He　stayed　there　longer　than　was　necessary；　crouched　over　the　dense　fermentation　that　was　ing　out　of　the　wooden　box　until　habit　told　him　that　it　was　time　to　start　work　again。　During　the　time　he　lingered　he　remembered　again　that　it　was　Tuesday；　and　that　Jos？Arcadio　Segundo　had　not　e　to　the　workshop　because　it　was　payday　on　the　banana　pany　farms。　That　recollection；　as　all　of　those　of　the　past　few　years；　led　him　to　think　about　the　war　without　his　realizing　it。　He　remembered　that　Colonel　Gerineldo　Márquez　had　once　promised　to　get　him　a　horse　with　a　white　star　on　its　face　and　that　he　had　never　spoken　about　it　again。　Then　he　went　on　toward　scattered　episodes　but　he　brought　them　back　without　any　judgment　because　since　he　could　not　think　about　anything　else；　he　had　learned　to　think　coldly　so　that　inescapable　memories　would　not　touch　any　feeling。　On　his　way　back　to　the　workshop；　seeing　that　the　air　was　beginning　to　dry　out；　he　decided　that　it　was　a　good　time　to　take　a　bath；　but　Amaranta　had　got　there　ahead　of　him。　So　he　started　on　the　second　little　fish　of　the　day。　He　was　putting　a　hook　on　the　tail　when　the　sun　came　out　with　such　strength　that　the　light　creaked　like　a　fishing　boat。　The　air；　which　had　been　washed　by　the　threeday　drizzle；　was　filled　with　flying　ants。　Then　he　came　to　the　realization　that　he　felt　like　urinating　and　he　had　been　putting　it　off　until　he　had　finished　fixing　the　little　fish。　He　went　out　into　the　courtyard　at　ten　minutes　after　four；　when　he　heard　the　distant　brass　instruments；　the　beating　of　the　bass　drum　and　the　shouting　of　the　children；　and　for　the　first　time　since　his　youth　he　knowingly　fell　into　a　trap　of　nostalgia　and　relived　that　prodigious　afternoon　Of　the　gypsies　when　his　father　took　him　to　see　ice。　Santa　Sofía　de　la　Piedad　dropped　what　she　was　doing　in　the　kitchen　and　ran　to　the　door。
　　　“It’s　the　circus；？she　shouted。
　　　Instead　of　going　to　the　chestnut　tree；　Colonel　Aureliano　Buendía　also　went　to　the　street　door　and　mingled　with　the　bystanders　who；　were　watching　the　parade。　He　saw　a　woman　dressed　in　gold　sitting　on　the　head　of　an　elephant。　He　saw　a　sad　dromedary。　He　saw　a　bear　dressed　like　a　Dutch　girl　keeping　time　to　the　music　with　a　soup　spoon　and　a　pan。　He　saw　the　clowns　doing　cartwheels　at　the　end　of　the　parade　and　once　more　he　saw　the　face　of　his　miserable　solitude　when　everything　had　passed　by　and　there　was　nothing　but　the　bright　expanse　of　the　street　and　the　air　full　of　flying　ants　with　a　few　onlookers　peering　into　the　precipice　of　uncertainty。　Then　he　went　to　the　chestnut　tree；　thinking　about　the　circus；　and　while　he　urinated　he　tried　to　keep　on　thinking　about　the　circus；　but　he　could　no　longer　find　the　memory。　He　pulled　his　head　in　between　his　shoulders　like　a　baby　chick　and　remained　motionless　with　his　forehead　against　the　trunk　of　the　chestnut　tree。　The　family　did　not　find　him　until　the　following　day　at　eleven　o’clock　in　the　morning　when　Santa　Sofía　de　la　Piedad　went　to　throw　out　the　garbage　in　back　and　her　attention　was　attracted　by　the　descending　vultures。

Chapter　14
MEME’S　LAST　VACATIONS　coincided　with　the　period　of　mourning　for　Colonel　Aureliano　Buendía。　The　shuttered　house　was　no　place　for　parties。　They　spoke　in　whispers；　ate　in　silence；　recited　the　rosary　three　times　a　day；　and　even　clavichord　practice　during　the　heat　of　siesta　time　had　a　funereal　echo。　In　spite　of　her　secret　hostility　toward　the　colonel；　it　was　Fernanda　who　imposed　the　rigor　of　that　mourning；　impressed　by　the　solemnity　with　which　the　government　exalted　the　memory　of　its　dead　enemy。　Aureliano　Segundo；　as　was　his　custom　came　back　to　sleep　in　the　house　during　his　daughter’s　vacation　and　Fernanda　must　have　done　some。　thing　to　regain　her　privileges　as　his　legitimate　wife　because　the　following　year　Meme　found　a　newborn　little　sister　who　against　the　wishes　of　her　mother　had　been　baptized　with　the　name　Amaranta　？rsula。
　　　Meme　had　finished　her　course　of　study。　The　diploma　that　certified　her　as　a　concert　clavichordist　was　ratified　by　the　virtuosity　with　which　she　executed　popular　melodies　of　the　seventeenth　century　at　the　gathering　anized　to　celebrate　the　pletion　of　her　studies　and　with　which　the　period　of　mourning　came　to　in　end。　More　than　her　art；　the　guests　admired　her　duality。　Her　frivolous　and　even　slightly　infantile　character　did　not　seem　up　to　any　serious　activity；　but　when　she　sat　down　at　the　clavichord　she　became　a　different　girl；　one　whose　unforeseen　maturity　gave　her　the　air　of　an　adult。　That　was　how　she　had　always　been。　She　really　did　am　have　any　definite　vocation；　but　she　had　earned　the　highest　grades　by　means　of　inflexible　discipline　simply　in　order　not　to　annoy　her　mother。　They　could　have　imposed　on　her　an　apprenticeship　in　any　other　field　and　the　results　would　have　been　the　same。　Since　she　had　been　very　small　she　had　been　troubled　by　Fernanda’s　strictness；　her　custom　of　deciding　in　favor　of　extremes；　and　she　would　have　been　capable　of　a　much　more　difficult　sacrifice　than　the　clavichord　lessons　merely　not　to　run　up　against　her　intransigence。　During　the　graduation　ceremonies　she　had　the　impression　that　the　parchment　with　Gothic　letters　and　illuminated　capitals　was　freeing　her　from　a　promise　that　she　had　accepted　not　so　much　out　of　obedience　as　out　of　convenience；　and　she　thought　that　from　then　on　not　even　the　insistent　Fernanda　would　worry　any　more　about　an　instrument　that　even　the　nuns　looked　upon　as　a　museum　fossil。　During　the　first　years　she　thought　that　her　calculations　were　mistaken　because　after　she　had　put　half　the　town　to　sleep；　not　only　in　the　parlor　but　also　at　all　charitable　functions；　school　ceremonies；　and　patriotic　celebrations　that　took　place　in　Macondo；　her　mother　still　invited　to　the　house　every　newer　whom　she　thought　capable　of　appreciating　her　daughter’s　virtues。　Only　after　the　death　of　Amaranta；　when　the　family　shut　itself　up　again　in　a　period　of　mourning；　was　Meme　able　to　lock　the　clavichord　and　fet　the　key　in　some　dresser　drawer　without　Fernanda’s　being　annoyed　on　finding　out　when　and　through　whose　fault　it　had　been　lost。　Meme　bore　up　under　the　exhibitions　with　the　same　stoicism　that　she　had　dedicated　to　her　apprenticeship。　It　was　the　price　of　her　freedom。　Fernanda　was　so　pleased　with　her　docility　and　so　proud　of　the　admiration　that　her　art　inspired　that　she　was　never　against　the　house　being　fall　of　girl　friends；　her　spending　the　afternoon　in　the　groves；　and　going　to　the　movies　with　Aureliano　Segundo　or　some　muted　lady　as　long　as　the　film　was　approved　by　Father　Antonio　Isabel　from　the　pulpit。　During　those　moments　of　relaxation　Meme’s　real　tastes　were　revealed。　Her　happiness　lay　at　the　other　extreme　from　discipline；　in　noisy　parties；　in　gossip　about　lovers；　in　prolonged　sessions　with　her　girl　friends；　where　they　learned　to　smoke　and　talked　about　male　business；　and　where　they　once　got　their　hands　on　some　cane　liquor　and　ended　up　naked；　measuring　and　paring　the　parts　of　their　bodies。　Meme　would　never　fet　that　night　when　she　arrived　home　chewing　licorice　lozenges；　and　without　noticing　their　consternation；　sat　down　at　the　table　where　Fernanda　and　Amaranta　were　eating　dinner　without　saying　a　word　to　each　other。　She　had　spent　two　tremendous　hours　in　the　bedroom　of　a　girl　friend；　weeping　with　laughter　and　fear；　and　beyond　an　crises　she　had　found　the　rare　feeling　of。　bravery　that　she　needed　in　order　to　run　away　from　school　and　tell　her　mother　in　one　way　or　another　that　she　could　use　the　clavichord　as　an　enema。　Sitting　at　the　head　of　the　table；　drinking　a　chicken　broth　that　landed　in　her　stomach　like　an　elixir　of　resurrection；　Meme　then　saw　Fernanda　and　Amaranta　wrapped　in　an　accusatory　halo　of　reality。　She　had　to　make　a　great　effort　not　to　throw　at　them　their　prissiness；　their　poverty　of　spirit　their　delusions　of　grandeur。　From　the　time　of　her　second　vacation　she　had　known　that　her　father　was　living　at　home　only　in　order　to　keep　up　appearances；　and　knowing　Fernanda　as　she　did　and　having　arranged　later　to　meet　Petra　Cotes；　she　thought　that　her　father　was　right。　She　also　would　have　preferred　being　the　daughter　of　the　concubine。　In　the　haziness　of　the　alcohol　Meme　thought　with　pleasure　about　the　scandal　that　would　have　taken　place　if　she　were　to　express　her　thoughts　at　that　moment；　and　the　intimate　satisfaction　of　her　roguishness　was　so　intense　that　Fernanda　noticed　it。
　　　“What’s　the　matter？？she　asked。
　　　“Nothing；？Meme　answered。　“I　was　only　now　discovering　how　much　I　loved　you　both。？
　　　Amaranta　was　startled　by　the　obvious　burden　of　hate　that　the　declaration　carried。　But　Fernanda　felt　so　moved　that　she　thought　she　would　go　mad　when　Meme　awoke　at　midnight　with　her　head　splitting　with　pain　and　drowning　in　vomited　gall。　She　gave　her　a　vial　of　castor　oil；　put　presses　on　her　stomach　and　ice　cubes　on　her　head；　and　she　made　her　stay　in　bed　for　five　days　and　follow　the