百年孤独(英文版)-第12部分

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oof　of　her　loyalty。　“We’ll　elope　whenever　you　say；？she　told　him。　Pietro　Crespi；　however；　was　not　a　man　of　adventure。　He　lacked　the　impulsive　character　of　his　fiancée　and　he　considered　respect　for　one’s　given　word　as　a　wealth　that　should　not　be　squandered。　Then　Rebeca　turned　to　more　audacious　methods。　A　mysterious　wind　blew　out　the　lamps　in　the　parlor　and　？rsula　surprised　the　lovers　kissing　in　the　dark。　Pietro　Crespi　gave　her　some　confused　explanations　about　the　poor　quality　of　modern　pitch　lamps　and　he　even　helped　her　install　a　more　secure　system　of　illumination　for　the　room。　But　the　fuel　failed　again　or　the　wicks　became　clogged　and　？rsula　found　Rebeca　sitting　on　her　fiancé’s　lap。　This　time　she　would　accept　no　explanation。　She　turned　the　responsibility　of　the　bakery　over　to　the　Indian　woman　and　sat　in　a　rocking　chair　to　watch　over　the　young　people　during　the　visits；　ready　to　win　out　over　maneuvers　that　had　already　been　old　when　she　was　a　girl。　“Poor　Mama；？Rebeca　would　say　with　mock　indignation；　seeing　？rsula　yawn　during　the　boredom　of　the　visits。　“When　she　dies　she’ll　go　off　to　her　reward　in　that　rocking　chair。？After　three　months　of　supervised　love；　fatigued　by　the　slow　progress　of　the　construction；　which　he　went　to　inspect　every　day；　Pietro　Crespi　decided　to　give　Father　Nicanor　the　money　he　needed　to　finish　the　church。　Amaranta　did　not　grow　impatient。　As　she　conversed　with　her　girl　friends　every　afternoon　when　they　came　to　embroider　on　the　porch；　she　tried　to　think　of　new　subterfuges。　A　mistake　in　calculation　spoiled　the　one　she　considered　the　most　effective：　removing　the　mothballs　that　Rebeca　had　put　in　her　wedding　dress　before　she　put　it　away　in　the　bedroom　dresser。　She　did　it　when　two　months　were　left　for　the　pletion　of　the　church。　But　Rebeca　was　so　impatient　with　the　approach　of　the　wedding　that　she　wanted　to　get　the　dress　ready　earlier　than　Amaranta　had　foreseen。　When　she　opened　the　dresser　and　unfolded　first　the　papers　and　then　the　protective　cloth；　she　found　the　fabric　of　the　dress　and　the　stitches　of　the　veil　and　even　the　crown　of　orange　blossoms　perforated　by　moths。　Although　she　was　sure　that　she　had　put　a　handful　of　mothballs　in　the　wrappings；　the　disaster　seemed　so　natural　that　she　did　not　dare　blame　Amaranta。　There　was　less　than　a　month　until　the　wedding；　but　Amparo　Moscote　promised　to　sew　a　new　dress　within　a　week。　Amaranta　felt　faint　that　rainy　noontime　when　Amparo　came　to　the　house　wrapped　in　the　froth　of　needlework　for　Rebeca　to　have　the　final　fitting　of　the　dress。　She　lost　her　voice　and　a　thread　of　cold　sweat　ran　down　the　path　of　her　spine。　For　long　months　she　had　trembled　with　fright　waiting　for　that　hour；　because　if　she　had　not　been　able　to　conceive　the　ultimate　obstacle　to　Rebeca’s　wedding；　she　was　sure　that　at　the　last　moment；　when　all　the　resources　of　her　imagination　had　failed；　she　would　have　the　courage　to　poison　her。　That　afternoon；　while　Rebeca　was　suffocating　with　heat　inside　the　armor　of　thread　that　Amparo　Moscote　was　putting　about　her　body　with　thousands　of　pins　and　infinite　patience；　Amaranta　made　several　mistakes　in　her　crocheting　and　pricked　her　finger　with　the　needle；　but　she　decided　with　frightful　coldness　that　the　date　would　be　the　last　Friday　before　the　wedding　and　the　method　would　be　a　dose　of　laudanum　in　her　coffee。
　　　A　greater　obstacle；　as　impassable　as　it　was　unforeseen；　obliged　a　new　and　indefinite　postponement。　One　week　before　the　date　set　for　the　wedding；　little　Remedios　woke　up　in　the　middle　of　the　night　soaked　in　a　hot　broth　which　had　exploded　in　her　insides　with　a　kind　of　tearing　belch；　and　she　died　three　days　later；　poisoned　by　her　own　blood；　with　a　pair　of　twins　crossed　in　her　stomach。　Amarante　suffered　a　crisis　of　conscience。　She　had　begged　God　with　such　fervor　for　something　fearful　to　happen　so　that　she　would　not　have　to　poison　Rebeca　that　she　felt　guilty　of　Remedios？death。　That　was　not　the　obstacle　that　she　had　begged　for　so　much。　Remedios　had　brought　a　breath　of　merriment　to　the　house。　She　had　settled　down　with　her　husband　in　a　room　near　the　workshop；　which　she　decorated　with　the　dolls　and　toys　of　her　recent　childhood；　and　her　merry　vitality　overflowed　the　four　walls　of　the　bedroom　and　went　like　a　whirlwind　of　good　health　along　the　porch　with　the　begonias：　She　would　start　singing　at　dawn。　She　was　the　only　person　who　dared　intervene　in　the　arguments　between　Rebeca　and　Amaranta。　She　plunged　into　the　fatiguing　chore　of　taking　care　of　Jos？Arcadio　Buendía。　She　would　bring　him　his　food；　she　would　help　him　with　his　daily　necessities；　wash　him　with　soap　and　a　scrubbing　brush；　keep　his　hair　and　beard　free　of　lice　and　nits；　keep　the　palm　shelter　in　good　condition　and　reinforce　it　with　waterproof　canvas　in　stormy　weather。　In　her　last　months　she　had　succeeded　in　municating　with　him　in　phrases　of　rudimentary　Latin。　When　the　son　of　Aureliano　and　Pilar　Ternera　was　born　and　brought　to　the　house　and　baptized　in　an　intimate　ceremony　with　the　name　Aureliano　Jos？　Remedios　decided　that　he　would　be　considered　their　oldest　child。　Her　maternal　instinct　surprised　？rsula。　Aureliano；　for　his　part；　found　in　her　the　justification　that　he　needed　to　live。　He　worked　all　day　in　his　workshop　and　Remedios　would　bring　him　a　cup　of　black　coffee　in　the　middle　of　the　morning。　They　would　both　visit　the　Moscotes　every　night。　Aureliano　would　play　endless　games　of　dominoes　with　his　fatherinlaw　while　Remedios　chatted　with　her　sisters　or　talked　to　her　mother　about　more　important　things。　The　link　with　the　Buendías　consolidated　Don　Apolinar　Moscote’s　authority　in　the　town。　On　frequent　trips　to　the　capital　of　the　province　he　succeeded　in　getting　the　government　to　build　a　school　so　that　Arcadio；　who　had　inherited　the　educational　enthusiasm　of　his　grandfather；　could　take　charge　of　it。　Through　persuasion　he　managed　to　get　the　majority　of　houses　painted　blue　in　time　for　the　date　of　national　independence。　At　the　urging　of　Father　Nicanor；　he　arranged　for　the　transfer　of　Catarino’s　store　to　a　back　street　and　he　closed　down　several　scandalous　establishments　that　prospered　in　the　center　of　town。　Once　he　returned　with　six　policemen　armed　with　rifles　to　whom　he　entrusted　the　maintenance　of　order；　and　no　one　remembered　the　original　agreement　not　to　have　armed　men　in　the　town。　Aureliano　enjoyed　his　fatherinlaw’s　efficiency。　“You’re　going　to　get　as　fat　as　he　is；？his　friends　would　say　to　him。　But　his　sedentary　life；　which　accentuated　his　cheekbones　and　concentrated　the　sparkle　of　his　eyes；　did　not　increase　his　weight　or　alter　the　parsimony　of　his　character；　but；　on　the　contrary；　it　hardened　on　his　lips　the　straight　line　of　solitary　meditation　and　implacable　decision。　So　deep　was　the　affection　that　he　and　his　wife　had　succeeded　in　arousing　in　both　their　families　that　when　Remedios　announced　that　she　was　going　to　have　a　child。　even　Rebeca　and　Amaranta　declared　a　truce　in　order　to　knit　items　in　blue　wool　if　it　was　to　be　a　boy　and　in　pink　wool　in　case　it　was　a　girl。　She　was　the　last　person　Arcadio　thought　about　a　few　years　later　when　he　faced　the　firing　squad。
　　　？rsula　ordered　a　mourning　period　of　closed　doors　and　windows；　with　no　one　entering　or　leaving　except　on　matters　of　utmost　necessity。　She　prohibited　any　talking　aloud　for　a　year　and　she　put　Remedios？daguerreotype　in　the　place　where　her　body　had　been　laid　out；　with　a　black　ribbon　around　it　and　an　oil　lamp　that　was　always　kept　lighted。　Future　generations；　who　never　let　the　lamp　go　out；　would　be　puzzled　at　that　girl　in　a　pleated　skirt；　white　boots；　and　with　an　andy　band　around　her　head；　and　they　were　never　able　to　connect　her　with　the　standard　image　of　a　greatgrandmother。　Amaranta　took　charge　of　Aureliano　Jos？　She　adopted　him　as　a　son　who　would　share　her　solitude　and　relieve　her　from　the　involutary　laudanum　that　her　mad　beseeching　had　thrown　into　Remedios？coffee。　Pietro　Crespi　would　tiptoe　in　at　dusk；　with　a　black　ribbon　on　his　hat；　and　he　would　pay　a　silent　visit　to　Rebeca；　who　seemed　to　be　bleeding　to　death　inside　the　black　dress　with　sleeves　down　to　her　wrists。　Just　the　idea　of　thinking　about　a　new　date　for　the　wedding　would　have　been　so　irreverent　that　the　engagement　turned　into　an　eternal　relationship；　a　fatigued　love　that　no　one　worried　about　again；　as　if　the　lovers；　who　in　other　days　had　sabotaged　the　lamps　in　order　to　kiss；　had　been　abandoned　to　the　free　will　of　death。　Having　lost　her　bearings；　pletely　demoralized；　Rebeca　began　eating　earth　again。
　　　Suddenly—when　the　mourning　had　gone　on　so　long　that　the　needlepoint　sessions　began　again—someone　pushed　open　the　street　door　at　two　in　the　afternoon　in　the　mortal　silence　of　the　heat　and　the　braces　in　the　foundation　shook　with　such　force　that　Amaranta　and　her　friends　sewing　on　the　porch；　Rebeca　sucking　her　finger　in　her　bedroom；　？rsula　in　the　kitchen；　Aureliano　in　the　workshop；　and　even　Jos？Arcadio　Buendía　under　the　solitary　chestnut　tree　had　the　impression　that　an　earthquake　was　breaking　up　the　house。　A　huge　man　had　arrived。　His　square　shoulders　barely　fitted　through　the　doorways。　He　was　wearing　a　medal　of　Our　Lady　of　Help　around　his　bison　neck；　his　arms　and　chest　were　pletely　covered　with　cryptic　tattooing；　and　on　his　right　wrist　was　the　tight　copper　bracelet　of　the　ni？osencruz　amulet。　His　skin　was　tanned　by　the　salt　of　the　open　air；　his　hair　was　short　and　straight　like　the　mane　of　a　mule；　his　jaws　were　of　iron；　and　he　wore　a　sad　smile。　He　had　a　belt　on　that　was　twice　as　thick　as　the　cinch　of　a　horse；　boots　with　leggings　and　spurs　and　iron　on　the　heels；　and　his　presence　gave　the　quaking　impression　of　a　seismic　tremor。　He　went　through　the　parlor　and　the　living　room；　carrying　some　halfworn　saddlebags　in　his　hand；　and　he　appeared　like　a　thunderclap　on　the　porch　with　the　begonias　where　Amaranta　and　her　friends　were　paralyzed；　their　needles　in　the　air。　“Hello；？he　said　to　them　in　a　tired　voice；　threw　the　saddlebags　on　a　worktable；　and　went　by　on　his　way　to　the　back　of　the　house。　“Hello；？he　said　to　the　startled　Rebecca；　who　saw　him　pass　by　the　door　of　her　bedroom。　“Hello；？he　said　to　Aureliano；　who　was　at　his　silversmith’s　bench　with　all　five　senses　alert。　He　did　not　linger　with　anyone。　He　went　directly　to　the　kitchen　and　there　he　stopped　for　the　first　time　at　the　end　of　a　trip　that　had　begun　of　the　other　side　of　the　world。　“Hello；？he　said。　？rsula　stood　for　a　fraction　of　a　second　with　her　mouth　open；　looked　into　his　eyes；　gave　a　cry；　and　flung　her　arms　around　his　neck；　shouting　and　weeping　with　joy。　It　was　Jos？Arcadio。　He　was　returning　as　poor　as　when　he　had　left；　to　such　an　extreme　that　？rsula　had　to　give　him　two　pesos　to　pay　for　the　rental　of　his　horse。　He　spoke　a　Spanish　that　was　larded　with　sailor　slang。　They　asked　where　he　had　been　and　he　answered：　“Out　there。？He　hung　his　hammock　in　the　room　they　assigned　him　and　slept　for　three　days。　When　he　woke　up；　after　eating　sixteen　raw　eggs；　he　went　directly　to　Catarino’s　store；　where　his　monumental　size　provoked　a　panic　of　curiosity　among　the　women。　He　called　for　music　and　cane　liquor　for　everyone；　to　be　put　on　his　bill。　He　would　Indianwrestle　with　five　men　at　the　same　time。　“It　can’t　be　done；？they　said；　convinced　that　they　would　not　be　able　to　move　his　arm。　“He　has　ni？osencruz。？Catarino；　who　did　not　believe　in　magical　tricks　of　strength；　bet　him　twelve　pesos　that　he　could　not　move　the　counter。　Jos？Arcadio　pulled　it　out　of　its　place；　lifted　it　over　his　head；　and　put　it　in　the　street。　It　took　eleven　men　to　put　it　back。　In　the　heat　of　the　party　he　exhibited　his　unusual　masculinity　on　the　bar；　pletely　covered　with　tattoos　of　words　in　several　languages　intertwined　in　blue　and　red。　To　the　women　who　were　besieging　him　and　coveting　him　he　put　the　question　as　to　who　would　pay　the　most。　The　one　who　had　the　most　money　offered　him　twenty　pesos。　Then　he　proposed　raffling　himself　off　among　them　at　ten　pesos　a　chance。　It　was　a　fantastic　price　because　the　most　soughtafter　woman　earned　eight　pesos　a　night；　but　they　all　accepted。　They　wrote　their　names　on　fourteen　pieces　of　paper　which　they　put　into　a　hat　and　each　woman　took　one　out。　When　there　were　only　two　pieces　left　to　draw；　it　was　established　to　whom　they　belonged。
　　　“Five　pesos　more　from　each　one；？Jos？Arcadio　proposed；　“and　I’ll　share　myself　with　both。
　　　He　made　his　living　that　way。　He　had　been　around　the　world　sixtyfive　times；　enlisted　in　a　crew　of　sailors　without　a　country。　The　women　who　went　to　bed　with　him　that　night　in　Catarino’s　store　brought　him　naked　into　the　dance　salon　so　that　people　could　see　that　there　was　not　a　square　inch　of　his　body　that　was　not　tattooed；　front　and　back；　and　from　his　neck　to　his　toes。　He　did　not　succeed　in　being　incorporated　into　the　family。　He　slept　all　day　and　spent　the　night　in　the　redlight　district；　making　bets　on　his　strength。　On　the　rare　occasions　when　？rsula　got　him　to　sit　down　at　the　table；　he　gave　signs　of　radiant　good　humor；　especially　when　he　told　about　his　adventures　in　remote　countries。　He　had　been　shipwrecked　and　spent　two　weeks　adrift　in　the　Sea　of　Japan；　feeding　on　the　body　of　a　rade　who　had　succumbed　to　sunstroke　and　whose　extremely　salty　flesh　as　it　cooked　in　the　sun　had　a　sweet　and　granular　taste。　Under　a　bright　noonday　sun　in　the　Gulf　of　Bengal　his　ship　had　killed　a　sea　dragon；　in　the　stomach　of　which　they　found　the　helmet；　the　buckles；　and　the　weapons　of　a　Crusader。　In　the　Caribbean　he　had　seen　the　ghost　of　the　pirate　ship　of　Victor　Hugues；　with　its　sails　torn　by　the　winds　of　death；　the　masts　chewed　by　sea　worms；　and　still　looking　for　the　course　to　Guadeloupe。　？rsula　would　weep　at　the　table　as　if　she　were　reading　the　letters　that　had　never　arrived　and　in　which　Jos？Arcadio　told　about　his　deeds　and　misadventures。　“And　there　was　so　much　of　a　home　here　for　you；　my　son；？she　would　sob；　“and　so　much　food　thrown　to　the　hogs！？But　underneath　it　an　she　could　not　conceive　that　the　boy　the　gypsies　took　away　was　the　same　lout　who　would　eat　half　a　suckling　pig　for　lunch　and　whose　flatulence　withered　the　flowers。　Something　similar　took　place　with　the　rest　of　the　family。　Amaranta　could　not　conceal　the　repugnance　that　she　felt　at　the　table　because　of　his　bestial　belching。　Arcadio；　who　never　knew　the　secret　of　their　relationship；　scarcely　answered　the　questions　that　he　asked　with　the　obvious　idea　of　gaining　his　affection。　Aureliano　tried　to　relive　the　times　when　they　slept　in　the　same　room；　tried　to　revive　the　plicity　of　childhood；　but　Jos？Arcadio　had　fotten　about　it；　because　life　at　sea　had　saturated　his　memory　with　too　many　things　to　remember。　Only　Rebeca　succumbed　to　the　first　impact。　The　day　that　she　saw　him　pass　by　her　bedroom　she　thought　that　Pietro　Crespi　was　a　sugary　dandy　next　to　that　protomale　whose　volcanic　breathing　could　be　heard　all　over　the　house。　She　tried　to　get　near　him　under　any　pretext。　On　a　certain　occasion　Jos？Arcadio　looked　at　her　body　with　shameless　attention　and　said　to　her　“You’re　a　woman；　little　sister。？Rebeca　lost　control　of　herself。　She　went　back　to　eating　earth　and　the　whitewash　on　the　walls　with　the　avidity　of　previous　days；　and　she　sucked　her　finger　with　so　much　anxiety　that　she　developed　a　callus　on　her　thumb。　She　vomited　up　a　green　liquid　with　dead　leeches　in　it。　She　spent　nights　awake　shaking　with　fever；　fighting　against　delirium；　waiting　until　the　house　shook　with　the　return　of　Jos？Arcadio　at　dawn。　One　afternoon；　when　everyone　was　having　a　siesta；　she　could　no　longer　resist