百年孤独(英文版)-第32部分

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orgotten　about　the　existence　of　that　fortune。　In　the　disorder　of　the　past　year；　when　the　central　mand　fell　apart　and　the　revolution　degenerated　into　a　bloody　rivalry　of　leaders；　it　was　impossible　to　determine　any　responsibility。　The　gold　of　the　revolution；　melted　into　blocks　that　were　then　covered　with　baked　clay；　was　beyond　all　control。　Colonel　Aureliano　Buendía　had　the　seventy…two　gold　bricks　included　in　the　inventory　of　surrender　and　closed　the　ceremony　without　allowing　any　speeches。　The　filthy　adolescent　stood　opposite　him；　looking　into　his　eyes　with　his　own　calm；　syrup…colored　eyes。
　　　“Something　else？？Colonel　Aureliano　Buendía　asked　him。
　　　The　young　colonel　tightened　his　mouth。
　　　“The　receipt；？he　said。
　　　Colonel　Aureliano　Buendía　wrote　it　out　in　his　own　hand。　Then　he　had　a　glass　of　lemonade　and　a　piece　of　biscuit　that　the　novices　were　passing　around　and　retired　to　a　field　tent　which　had　been　prepared　for　him　in　case　he　wished　to　rest。　There　he　took　off　his　shirt；　sat　on　the　edge　of　the　cot；　and　at　three…fifteen　in　the　afternoon　took　his　pistol　and　shot　himself　in　the　iodine　circle　that　his　personal　physician　had　painted　on　his　chest。　At　that　moment　in　Macondo　？rsula　took　the　cover　off　the　pot　of　milk　on　the　stove；　wondering　why　it　was　taking　so　long　to　boil；　and　found　it　full　of　worms。
　　　“They’ve　killed　Aureliano；？she　exclaimed。
　　　She　looked　toward　the　courtyard；　obeying　a　habit　of　her　solitude；　and　then　she　saw　Jos？Arcadio　Buendía；　soaking　wet　and　sad　in　the　rain　and　much　older　than　when　he　had　died。　“They　shot　him　in　the　back；？？rsula　said　more　precisely；　“and　no　one　was　charitable　enough　to　close　his　eyes。？At　dusk　through　her　tears　she　saw　the　swift　and　luminous　disks　that　crossed　the　sky　like　an　exhalation　and　she　thought　that　it　was　a　signal　of　death。　She　was　still　under　the　chestnut　tree；　sobbing　at　her　husband’s　knees；　when　they　brought　in　Colonel　Aureliano　Buendía；　wrapped　in　a　blanket　that　was　stiff　with　dry　blood　and　with　his　eyes　open　in　rage。
　　　He　was　out　of　danger。　The　bullet　had　followed　such　a　neat　path　that　the　doctor　was　able　to　put　a　cord　soaked　in　iodine　in　through　the　chest　and　withdraw　it　from　the　back。　“That　was　my　masterpiece；？he　said　with　satisfaction。　“It　was　the　only　point　where　a　bullet　could　pass　through　without　harming　any　vital　organ。？Colonel　Aureliano　Buendía　saw　himself　surrounded　by　charitable　novices　who　intoned　desperate　psalms　for　the　repose　of　his　soul　and　then　he　was　sorry　that　he　had　not　shot　himself　in　the　roof　of　the　mouth　as　he　had　considered　doing　if　only　to　mock　the　prediction　of　Pilar　Ternera。
　　　“If　I　still　had　the　authority；？he　told　the　doctor；　“I’d　have　you　shot　out　of　hand。　Not　for　having　saved　my　life　but　for　having　made　a　fool　of　me。？
　　　The　failure　of　his　death　brought　back　his　lost　prestige　in　a　few　hours。　The　same　people　who　invented　the　story　that　he　had　sold　the　war　for　a　room　with　walls　made　of　gold　bricks　defined　the　attempt　at　suicide　as　an　act　of　honor　and　proclaimed　him　a　martyr。　Then；　when　he　rejected　the　Order　of　Merit　awarded　him　by　the　president　of　the　republic；　even　his　most　bitter　enemies　filed　through　the　room　asking　him　to　withdraw　recognition　of　the　armistice　and　to　start　a　new　war。　The　house　was　filled　with　gifts　meant　as　amends。　Impressed　finally　by　the　massive　support　of　his　former　rades　in　arms；　Colonel　Aureliano　Buendía　did　not　put　aside　the　possibility　of　pleasing　them。　On　the　contrary；　at　a　certain　moment　he　seemed　so　enthusiastic　with　the　idea　of　a　new　war　that　Colonel　Gerineldo　Márquez　thought　that　he　was　only　waiting　for　a　pretext　to　proclaim　it。　The　pretext　was　offered；　in　fact；　when　the　president　of　the　republic　refused　to　award　any　military　pensions　to　former　batants；　Liberal　or　Conservative；　until　each　case　was　examined　by　a　special　mission　and　the　award　approved　by　the　congress。　“That’s　an　outrage；？thundered　Colonel　Aureliano　Buendía。　“They’ll　die　of　old　age　waiting　for　the　mail　to　e。？For　the　first　time　he　left　the　rocker　that　？rsula　had　bought　for　his　convalescence；　and；　walking　about　the　bedroom；　he　dictated　a　strong　message　to　the　president　of　the　republic。　In　that　telegram　which　was　never　made　public；　he　denounced　the　first　violation　of　the　Treaty　of　Neerlandia　and　threatened　to　proclaim　war　to　the　death　if　the　assignment　of　pensions　was　not　resolved　within　two　weeks。　His　attitude　was　so　just　that　it　allowed　him　to　hope　even　for　the　support　of　former　Conservative　batants。　But　the　only　reply　from　the　government　was　the　reinforcement　of　the　military　guard　that　had　been　placed　at　the　door　of　his　house　with　the　pretext　of　protecting　him；　and　the　prohibition　of　all　types　of　visits；　Similar　methods　were　adopted　all　through　the　country　with　other　leaders　who　bore　watching。　It　was　an　operation　that　was　so　timely；　drastic；　and　effective　that　two　months　after　the　armistice；　when　Colonel　Aureliano　Buendía　had　recovered；　his　most　dedicated　conspirators　were　dead　or　exiled　or　had　been　assimilated　forever　into　public　administration。
　　　Colonel　Aureliano　Buendía　left　his　room　in　December　and　it　was　sufficient　for　him　to　look　at　the　porch　in　order　not　to　think　about　war　again。　With　a　vitality　that　seemed　impossible　at　her　age；　？rsula　had　rejuvenated　the　house　again。　“Now　they’re　going　to　see　who　I　am；？she　said　when　she　saw　that　her　son　was　going　to　live。　“There　won’t　be　a　better；　more　open　house　in　all　the　world　than　this　madhouse。？She　had　it　washed　and　painted；　changed　the　furniture；　restored　the　garden　and　planted　new　flowers；　and　opened　doors　and　windows　so　that　the　dazzling　light　of　summer　would　penetrate　even　into　the　bedrooms。　She　decreed　an　end　to　the　numerous　superimposed　periods　of　mourning　and　she　herself　exchanged　her　rigorous　old　gowns　for　youthful　clothing。　The　music　of　the　pianola　again　made　the　house　merry。　When　she　heard　it；　Amaranta　thought　of　Pietro　Crespi；　his　evening　gardenia；　and　his　smell　of　lavender；　and　in　the　depths　of　her　withered　heart　a　clean　rancor　flourished；　purified　by　time。　One　afternoon　when　she　was　trying　to　put　the　parlor　in　order；　？rsula　asked　for　the　help　of　the　soldiers　who　were　guarding　the　house。　The　young　mander　of　the　guard　gave　them　permission。　Little　by　little；　？rsula　began　assigning　them　new　chores。　She　invited　them　to　eat；　gave　them　clothing　and　shoes；　and　taught　them　how　to　read　and　write。　When　the　government　withdrew　the　guard；　one　of　them　continued　living　in　the　house　and　was　in　her　service　for　many　years。　On　New　Year’s　Day；　driven　mad　by　rebuffs　from　Remedios　the　Beauty；　the　young　mander　of　the　guard　was　found　dead　under　her　window。

Chapter　10
YEARS　LATER　on　his　deathbed　Aureliano　Segundo　would　remember　the　rainy　afternoon　in　June　when　he　went　into　the　bedroom　to　meet　his　first　son。　Even　though　the　child　was　languid　and　weepy；　with　no　mark　of　a　Buendía；　he　did　not　have　to　think　twice　about　naming　him。
　　　“We’ll　call　him　Jos？Arcadio；？he　said。
　　　Fernanda　del　Carpio；　the　beautiful　woman　he　had　married　the　year　before；　agreed。　？rsula；　on　the　other　hand；　could　not　conceal　a　vague　feeling　of　doubt。　Throughout　the　long　history　of　the　family　the　insistent　repetition　of　names　had　made　her　draw　some　conclusions　that　seemed　to　be　certain。　While　the　Aurelianos　were　withdrawn；　but　with　lucid　minds；　the　Jos？Arcadios　were　impulsive　and　enterprising；　but　they　were　marked　with　a　tragic　sign。　The　only　cases　that　were　impossible　to　classify　were　those　of　Jos？Arcadio　Segundo　and　Aureliano　Segundo。　They　were　so　much　alike　and　so　mischievous　during　childhood　that　not　even　Santa　Sofía　de　la　Piedad　could　tell　them　apart。　On　the　day　of　their　christening　Amaranta　put　bracelets　on　them　with　their　respective　names　and　dressed　them　in　different　colored　clothing　marked　with　each　one’s　initials；　but　when　they　began　to　go　to　school　they　decided　to　exchange　clothing　and　bracelets　and　call　each　other　by　opposite　names。　The　teacher；　Melchor　Escalona；　used　to　knowing　Jos？Arcadio　Segundo　by　his　green　shirt；　went　out　of　his　mind　when　he　discovered　that　the　latter　was　wearing　Aureliano　Segundo’s　bracelet　and　that　the　other　one　said；　nevertheless；　that　his　name　was　Aureliano　Segundo　in　spite　of　the　fact　that　he　was　wearing　the　white　shirt　and　the　bracelet　with　Jos？Arcadio　Segundo’s　name。　From　then　on　he　was　never　sure　who　was　who。　Even　when　they　grew　up　and　life　made　them　different。　？rsula　still　wondered　if　they　themselves　might　not　have　made　a　mistake　in　some　moment　of　their　intricate　game　of　confusion　and　had　bee　changed　forever。　Until　the　beginning　of　adolescence　they　were　two　synchronized　machines。　They　would　wake　up　at　the　same　time；　have　the　urge　to　go　to　the　bathroom　at　the　same　time；　suffer　the　same　upsets　in　health；　and　they　even　dreamed　about　the　same　things。　In　the　house；　where　it　was　thought　that　they　coordinated　their　actions　with　a　simple　desire　to　confuse；　no　one　realized　what　really　was　happening　until　one　day　when　Santa　Sofía　de　la　Piedad　gave　one　of　them　a　glass　of　lemonade　and　as　soon　as　he　tasted　it　the　other　one　said　that　it　needed　sugar。　Santa　Sofía　de　la　Piedad；　who　had　indeed　forgotten　to　put　sugar　in　the　lemonade；　told　？rsula　about　it。　“That’s　what　they’re　all　like；？she　said　without　surprise。　“crazy　from　birth。？In　time　things　became　less　disordered。　The　one　who　came　out　of　the　game　of　confusion　with　the　name　of　Aureliano　Segundo　grew　to　monumental　size　like　his　grandfathers；　and　the　one　who　kept　the　name　of　Jos？Arcadio　Segundo　grew　to　be　bony　like　the　colonel；　and　the　only　thing　they　had　in　mon　was　the　family’s　solitary　air。　Perhaps　it　was　that　crossing　of　stature；　names；　and　character　that　made　？rsula　suspect　that　they　had　been　shuffled　like　a　deck　of　cards　since　childhood。
　　　The　decisive　difference　was　revealed　in　the　midst　of　the　war；　when　Jos？Arcadio　Segundo　asked　Colonel　Gerineldo　Márquez　to　let　him　see　an　execution。　Against　？rsula’s　better　judgment　his　wishes　were　satisfied。　Aureliano　Segundo；　on　the　other　hand；　shuddered　at　the　mere　idea　of　witnessing　an　execution。　He　preferred　to　stay　home。　At　the　age　of　twelve　he　asked　？rsula　what　was　in　the　locked　room。　“Papers；？she　answered。　“Melquíades？books　and　the　strange　things　that　he　wrote　in　his　last　years。？Instead　of　calming　him；　the　answer　increased　his　curiosity。　He　demanded　so　much；　promised　with　such　insistence　that　he　would　not　mistreat　the　things；　that　？rsula；　gave　him　the　keys。　No　one　had　gone　into　the　room　again　since　they　had　taken　Melquíades？body　out　and　had　put　on　the　door　a　padlock　whose　parts　had　bee　fused　together　with　rust。　But　when　Aureliano　Segundo　opened　the　windows　a　familiar　light　entered　that　seemed　accustomed　to　lighting　the　room　every　day　and　there　was　not　the　slightest　trace　of　dust　or　cobwebs；　with　everything　swept　and　clean；　better　swept　and　cleaner　than　on　the　day　of　the　burial；　and　the　ink　had　not　dried　up　in　the　inkwell　nor　had　oxidation　diminished　the　shine　of　the　metals　nor　had　the　embers　gone　out　under　the　water　pipe　where　Jos？Arcadio　Buendía　had　vaporized　mercury。　On　the　shelves　were　the　books　bound　in　a　cardboard…like　material；　pale；　like　tanned　human　skin；　and　the　manuscripts　were　intact。　In　spite　of　the　room’s　having　been　shut　up　for　many　years；　the　air　seemed　fresher　than　in　the　rest　of　the　house。　Everything　was　so　recent　that　several　weeks　later；　when　？rsula　went　into