百年孤独(英文版)-第11部分

快捷操作: 按键盘上方向键 ← 或 → 可快速上下翻页 按键盘上的 Enter 键可回到本书目录页 按键盘上方向键 ↑ 可回到本页顶部! 如果本书没有阅读完，想下次继续接着阅读，可使用上方 "收藏到我的浏览器" 功能 和 "加入书签" 功能！


hythm　of　her　own　music　for　three　days。　That　discovery　excited　him　much　more　than　any　of　his　other　harebrained　undertakings。　He　stopped　eating。　He　stopped　sleeping。　Only　the　vigilance　and　care　of　Rebeca　kept　him　from　being　dragged　off　by　his　imagination　into　a　state　of　perpetual　delirium　from　which　he　would　not　recover。　He　would　spend　the　nights　walking　around　the　room　thinking　aloud；　searching　for　a　way　to　apply　the　principles　of　the　pendulum　to　oxcarts；　to　harrows；　to　everything　that　was　useful　when　put　into　motion。　The　fever　of　insomnia　fatigued　him　so　much　that　one　dawn　he　could　not　recognize　the　old　man　with　white　hair　and　uncertain　gestures　who　came　into　his　bedroom。　It　was　Prudencio　Aguilar。　When　he　finally　identified　him；　startled　that　the　dead　also　aged；　Jos？Arcadio　Buendía　felt　himself　shaken　by　nostalgia。　“Prudencio；？he　exclaimed。　“You’ve　e　from　a　long　way　off！？After　many　years　of　death　the　yearning　for　the　living　was　so　intense；　the　need　for　pany　so　pressing；　so　terrifying　the　neatness　of　that　other　death　which　exists　within　death；　that　Prudencio　Aguilar　had　ended　up　loving　his　worst　enemy。　He　had　spent　a　great　deal　of　time　looking　for　him。　He　asked　the　dead　from　Riohacha　about　him；　the　dead　who　came　from　the　Upar　Valley；　those　who　came　from　the　swamp；　and　no　one　could　tell　him　because　Macondo　was　a　town　that　was　unknown　to　the　dead　until　Melquíades　arrived　and　marked　it　with　a　small　black　dot　on　the　motley　maps　of　death。　Jos？Arcadio　Buendía　conversed　with　Prudencio　Aguilar　until　dawn。　A　few　hours　later；　worn　out　by　the　vigil；　he　went　into　Aureliano’s　workshop　and　asked　him：　“What　day　is　today？？Aureliano　told　him　that　it　was　Tuesday。　“I　was　thinking　the　same　thing；？Jos？Arcadio　Buendía　said；　“but　suddenly　I　realized　that　it’s　still　Monday；　like　yesterday。　Look　at　the　sky；　look　at　the　walls；　look　at　the　begonias。　Today　is　Monday　too。？Used　to　his　manias；　Aureliano　paid　no　attention　to　him。　On　the　next　day；　Wednesday；　Jos？Arcadio　Buendía　went　back　to　the　workshop。　“This　is　a　disaster；？he　said。　“Look　at　the　air；　listen　to　the　buzzing　of　the　sun；　the　same　as　yesterday　and　the　day　before。　Today　is　Monday　too。？That　night　Pietro　Crespi　found　him　on　the　porch；　weeping　for　Prudencio　Aguilar；　for　Melquíades；　for　Rebeca’s　parents；　for　his　mother　and　father；　for　all　of　those　he　could　remember　and　who　were　now　alone　in　death。　He　gave　him　a　mechanical　bear　that　walked　on　its　hind　legs　on　a　tightrope；　but　he　could　not　distract　him　from　his　obsession。　He　asked　him　what　had　happened　to　the　project　he　had　explained　to　him　a　few　days　before　about　the　possibility　of　building　a　pendulum　machine　that　would　help　men　to　fly　and　he　answered　that　it　was　impossible　because　a　pendulum　could　lift　anything　into　the　air　but　it　could　not　lift　itself。　On　Thursday　he　appeared　in　the　workshop　again　with　the　painful　look　of　plowed　ground。　“The　time　machine　has　broken；？he　almost　sobbed；　“and　？rsula　and　Amaranta　so　far　away！？Aureliano　scolded　him　like　a　child　and　he　adopted　a　contrite　air。　He　spent　six　hours　examining　things；　trying　to　find　a　difference　from　their　appearance　on　the　previous　day　in　the　hope　of　discovering　in　them　some　change　that　would　reveal　the　passage　of　time。　He　spent　the　whole　night　in　bed　with　his　eyes　open；　calling　to　Prudencio　Aguilar；　to　Melquíades；　to　all　the　dead；　so　that　they　would　share　his　distress。　But　no　one　came。　On　Friday。　before　anyone　arose；　he　watched　the　appearance　of　nature　again　until　he　did　not　have　the　slightest　doubt　but　that　it　was　Monday。　Then　he　grabbed　the　bar　from　a　door　and　with　the　savage　violence　of　his　unmon　strength　he　smashed　to　dust　the　equipment　in　the　alchemy　laboratory；　the　daguerreotype　room；　the　silver　workshop；　shouting　like　a　man　possessed　in　some　highsounding　and　fluent　but　pletely　inprehensible　language。　He　was　about　to　finish　off　the　rest　of　the　house　when　Aureliano　asked　the　neighbors　for　help。　Ten　men　were　needed　to　get　him　down；　fourteen　to　tie　him　up；　twenty　to　drag　him　to　the　chestnut　tree　in　the　courtyard；　where　they　left　him　tied　up；　barking　in　the　strange　language　and　giving　off　a　green　froth　at　the　mouth。　When　？rsula　and　Amaranta　returned　he　was　still　tied　to　the　trunk　of　the　chestnut　tree　by　his　hands　and　feet；　soaked　with　rain　and　in　a　state　of　total　innocence。　They　spoke　to　him　and　he　looked　at　them　without　recognizing　them；　saying　things　they　did　not　understand。　？rsula　untied　his　wrists　and　ankles；　lacerated　by　the　pressure　of　the　rope；　and　left　him　tied　only　by　the　waist。　Later　on　they　built　him　a　shelter　of　palm　brandies　to　protect　him　from　the　sun　and　the　rain。

Chapter　5
AURELIANO　BUEND？A　and　Remedios　Moscote　were　married　one　Sunday　in　March　before　the　altar　Father　Nicanor　Reyna　had　set　up　in　the　parlor。　It　was　the　culmination　of　four　weeks　of　shocks　in　the　Moscote　household　because　little　Remedios　had　reached　puberty　before　getting　over　the　habits　of　childhood。　In　spite　of　the　fact　that　her　mother　had　taught　her　about　the　changes　of　adolescence；　one　February　afternoon　she　burst　shouting　into　the　living　room；　where　her　sisters　were　chatting　with　Aureliano；　and　showed　them　her　panties；　smeared　with　a　chocolatecolored　paste。　A　month　for　the　wedding　was　agreed　upon。　There　was　barely　enough　time　to　teach　her　how　to　wash　herself；　get　dressed　by　herself；　and　understand　the　fundamental　business　of　a　home。　They　made　her　urinate　over　hot　bricks　in　order　to　cure　her　of　the　habit　of　wetting　her　bed。　It　took　a　good　deal　of　work　to　convince　her　of　the　inviolability　of　the　marital　secret；　for　Remedios　was　so　confused　and　at　the　same　time　so　amazed　at　the　revelation　that　she　wanted　to　talk　to　everybody　about　the　details　of　the　wedding　night。　It　was　a　fatiguing　effort；　but　on　the　date　set　for　the　ceremony　the　child　was　as　adept　in　the　ways　of　the　world　as　any　of　her　sisters。　Don　Apolinar　Moscote　escorted　her　by　the　arm　down　the　street　that　was　decorated　with　flowers　and　wreaths　amidst　the　explosion　of　rockets　and　the　music　of　several　bands；　and　she　waved　with　her　hand　and　gave　her　thanks　with　a　smile　to　those　who　wished　her　good　luck　from　the　windows。　Aureliano；　dressed　in　black；　wearing　the　same　patent　leather　boots　with　metal　fasteners　that　he　would　have　on　a　few　years　later　as　he　faced　the　firing　squad；　had　an　intense　paleness　and　a　hard　lump　in　his　throat　when　he　met　the　bride　at　the　door　of　the　house　and　led　her　to　the　altar。　She　behaved　as　naturally；　with　such　discretion；　that　she　did　not　lose　her　posure；　not　even　when　Aureliano　dropped　the　ring　as　he　tried　to　put　it　on　her　finger。　In　the　midst　of　the。　murmurs　and　confusion　of　the　guests；　she　kept　her　arm　with　the　fingerless　lace　glove　held　up　and　remained　like　that　with　her　ring　finger　ready　until　the　bridegroom　managed　to　stop　the　ring　with　his　foot　before　it　rolled　to　the　door；　and　came　back　blushing　to　the　altar。　Her　mother　and　sisters　suffered　so　much　from　the　fear　that　the　child　would　do　something　wrong　during　the　ceremony　that　in　the　end　they　were　the　ones　who　mitted　the　impertinence　of　picking　her　up　to　kiss　her。　From　that　day　on　the　sense　of　responsibility；　the　natural　grace；　the　calm　control　that　Remedios　would　have　in　the　face　of　adverse　circumstances　was　revealed。　It　was　she　who；　on　her　own　initiative；　put　aside　the　largest　piece　that　she　had　cut　from　the　wedding　cake　and　took　it　on　a　plate　with　a　fork　to　Jos？Arcadio　Buendía。　Tied　to　the　trunk　of　the　chestnut　tree；　huddled　on　a　wooden　stool　underneath　the　palm　shelter；　the　enormous　old　man；　discolored　by　the　sun　and　rain；　made　a　vague　smile　of　gratitude　and　at　the　piece　of　cake　with　his　fingers；　mumbling　an　unintelligible　psalm。　The　only　unhappy　person　in　that　noisy　celebration；　which　lasted　until　dawn　on　Monday；　was　Rebeca　Buendía。　It　was　her　own　frustrated　party。　By　an　arrangement　of　？rsula’s；　her　marriage　was　to　be　celebrated　on　the　same　day；　but　that　Friday　Pietro　Crespi　received　a　letter　with　the　news　of　his　mother’s　imminent　death。　The　wedding　was　postponed。　Pietro　Crespi　left　for　the　capital　of　the　province　an　hour　after　receiving　the　letter；　and　on　the　road　he　missed　his　mother；　who　arrived　punctually　Saturday　night　and　at　Aureliano’s　wedding　sang　the　sad　aria　that　she　had　prepared　for　the　wedding　of　her　son。　Pietro　Crespi　returned　on　Sunday　midnight　to　sweep　up　the　ashes　of　the　party；　after　having　worn　out　five　horses　on　the　road　in　an　attempt　to　be　in　time　for　his　wedding。　It　was　never　discovered　who　wrote　the　letter。　Tormented　by　？rsula；　Amaranta　wept　with　indignation　and　swore　her　innocence　in　front　of　the　altar；　which　the　carpenters　had　not　finished　dismantling。
　　　Father　Nicanor　Reyna—whom　Don　Apolinar　Moscote　had　brought　from　the　swamp　to　officiate　at　the　wedding—was　an　old　man　hardened　by　the　ingratitude　of　his　ministry。　His　skin　was　sad；　with　the　bones　almost　exposed；　and　he　had　a　pronounced　round　stomach　and　the　expression　of　an　old　angel；　which　came　more　from；　simplicity　than　from　goodness。　He　had　planned　to　return　to　his　pariah　after　the　wedding；　but　he　was　appalled　at　the　hardness　of　the　inhabitants　of　Macondo；　who　were　prospering　in　the　midst　of　scandal；　subject　to　the　natural　law；　without　baptizing　their　children　or　sanctifying　their　festivals。　Thinking　that　no　land　needed　the　seed　of　God　so　much；　he　decided　to　stay　on　for　another　week　to　Christianize　both　circumcised　and　gentile；　legalize　concubinage；　and　give　the　sacraments　to　the　dying。　But　no　one　paid　any　attention　to　him。　They　would　answer　him　that　they　had　been　many　years　without　a　priest；　arranging　the　business　of　their　souls　directly　with　God；　and　that　they　had　lost　the　evil　of　original　sin。　Tired　of　preaching　in　the　open；　Father　Nicanor　decided　to　undertake　the　building　of　a　church；　the　largest　in　the　world；　with　lifesize　saints　and　stainedglass　windows　on　the　sides；　so　that　people　would　e　from　Rome　to　honor　God　in　the　center　of　impiety。　He　went　everywhere　begging　alms　with　a　copper　dish。　They　gave　him　a　large　amount；　but　he　wanted　more；　because　the　church　had　to　have　a　bell　that　would　raise　the　drowned　up　to　the　surface　of　the　water。　He　pleaded　so　much　that　he　lost　his　voice。　His　bones　began　to　fill　with　sounds。　One　Saturday；　not　even　having　collected　the　price　of　the　doors；　he　fell　into　a　desperate　confusion。　He　improvised　an　altar　in　the　square　and　on　Sunday　he　went　through　the　town　with　a　small　bell；　as　in　the　days　of　insomnia；　calling　people　to　an　openair　mass。　Many　went　out　of　curiosity。　Others　from　nostalgia。　Others　so　that　God　would　not　take　the　disdain　for　His　intermediary　as　a　personal　insult。　So　that　at　eight　in　the　morning　half　the　town　was　in　the　square；　where　Father　Nicanor　chanted　the　gospels　in　a　voice　that　had　been　lacerated　by　his　pleading。　At　the　end；　when　the　congregation　began　to　break　up；　he　raised　his　arms　signaling　for　attention。
　　　“Just　a　moment；？he　said。　“Now　we　shall　witness　an　undeniable　proof　of　the　infinite　power　of　God。？
　　　The　boy　who　had　helped　him　with　the　mass　brought　him　a　cup　of　thick　and　steaming　chocolate；　which　he　drank　without　pausing　to　breathe。　Then　he　wiped　his　lips　with　a　handkerchief　that　he　drew　from　his　sleeve；　extended　his　arms；　and　closed　his　eyes。　Thereupon　Father　Nicanor　rose　six　inches　above　the　level　of　the　ground。　It　was　a　convincing　measure。　He　went　among　the　houses　for　several　days　repeating　the　demonstration　of　levitation　by　means　of　chocolate　while　the　acolyte　collected　so　much　money　in　a　bag　that　in　less　than　a　month　he　began　the　construction　of　the　church。　No　one　doubted　the　divine　origin　of　the　demonstration　except　Jos？Arcadio　Buendía；　who　without　changing　expression　watched　the　troop　of　people　who　gathered　around　the　chestnut　tree　one　morning　to　witness　the　revelation　once　more。　He　merely　stretched　on　his　stool　a　little　and　shrugged　his　shoulders　when　Father　Nicanor　began　to　rise　up　from　the　ground　along　with　the　chair　he　was　sitting　on。
　　　“Hoc　est　simplicissimus；？Jos？Arcadio　Buendía　said。　“Homo　iste　statum　quartum　materiae　invenit。？
　　　Father　Nicanor　raised　his　hands　and　the　four　legs　of　the　chair　all　landed　on　the　ground　at　the　same　time。　“Nego；？he　said。　“Factum　hoc　existentiam　Dei　probat　sine　dubio。？
　　　Thus　it　was　discovered　that　Jos？Arcadio　Buendía’s　devilish　jargon　was　Latin。　Father　Nicanor　took　advantage　of　the　circumstance　of　his　being　the　only　person　who　had　been　able　to　municate　with　him　to　try　to　inject　the　faith　into　his　twisted　mind。　Every　afternoon　he　would　sit　by　the　chestnut　tree　preaching　in　Latin；　but　Jos？Arcadio　Buendía　insisted　on　rejecting　rhetorical　tricks　and　the　transmutation　of　chocolate；　and　he　demanded　the　daguerreotype　of　God　as　the　only　proof。　Father　Nicanor　then　brought　him　medals　and　pictures　and　even　a　reproduction　of　the　Veronica；　but　Jos？Arcadio　Buendía　rejected　them　as　artistic　objects　without　any　scientific　basis。　He　was　so　stubborn　that　Father　Nicanor　gave　up　his　attempts　at　evangelization　and　continued　visiting　him　out　of　humanitarian　feelings。　But　then　it　was　Jos？Arcadio　Buendía　who　took　the　lead　and　tried　to　break　down　the　priest’s　faith　with　rationalist　tricks。　On　a　certain　occasion　when　Father　Nicanor　brought　a　checker　set　to　the　chestnut　tree　and　invited　him　to　a　game；　Jos？Arcadio　Buendía　would　not　accept；　because　according　to　him　he　could　never　understand　the　sense　of　a　contest　in　which　the　two　adversaries　have　agreed　upon　the　rules。　Father　Nicanor；　who　had　never　seen　checkers　played　that　way；　could　not　play　it　again。　Ever　more　startled　at　Jos？Arcadio　Buendía’s　lucidity；　he　asked　him　how　it　was　possible　that　they　had　him　tied　to　a　tree。
　　　“Hoc　est　simplicissimus；？he　replied。　“Because　I’m　Crazy。？
　　　From　then　on；　concerned　about　his　own　faith；　the　priest　did　not　e　back　to　visit　him　and　dedicated　himself　to　hurrying　along　the　building　of　the　church。　Rebeca　felt　her　hopes　being　reborn。　Her　future　was　predicated　on　the　pletion　of　the　work；　for　one　Sunday　when　Father　Nicanor　was　lunching　at　the　house　and　the　whole　family　sitting　at　the　table　spoke　of　the　solemnity　and　splendor　that　religious　ceremonies　would　acquire　when　the　church　was　built；　Amaranta　said：　“The　luckiest　one　will　be　Rebeca。？And　since　Rebeca　did　not　understand　what　she　meant；　she　explained　it　to　her　with　an　innocent　smile：
　　　“You’re　going　to　be　the　one　who　will　inaugurate　the　church　with　your　wedding。？
　　　Rebeca　tried　to　forestall　any　ments。　The　way　the　construction　was　going　the　church　would　not　be　built　before　another　ten　years。　Father　Nicanor　did　not　agree：　the　growing　generosity　of　the　faithful　permitted　him　to　make　more　optimistic　calculations。　To　the　mute　Indignation　of　Rebeca；　who　could　not　finish　her　lunch；　？rsula　celebrated　Amaranta’s　idea　and　contributed　a　considerable　sum　for　the　work　to　move　faster。　Father　Nicanor　felt　that　with　another　contribution　like　that　the　church　would　be　ready　within　three　years。　From　then　on　Rebeca　did　not　say　another　word　to　Amaranta；　convinced　that　her　initiative　had　not　the　innocence　that　she　attempted　to　give　it。　“That　was　the　least　serious　thing　I　could　have　done；？Amaranta　answered　her　during　the　violent　argument　they　had　that　night。　“In　that　way　I　won’t　have　to　kill　you　for　three　years。？Rebeca　accepted　the　challenge。
　　　When　Pietro　Crespi　found　out　about　the　new　postponement；　he　went　through　a　crisis　of　disappointment；　but　Rebeca　gave　him　a　final　proof　of　her　loyalty。　“We’ll　elope　whenever　you　say；？she　told　him。　Pietro　Crespi；　however；　was　not　a