百年孤独(英文版)-第59部分

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not　to　eat　earth。　In　search　of　some　relief　for　her　uncertainty；　she　called　Pilar　Ternera　to　read　her　future。　After　a　string　of　conventional　vagaries；　Pilar　Ternera　predicted：
　　　“You　will　not　be　happy　as　long　as　your　parents　remain　unburied。？
　　　Rebeca　shuddered。　As　in　the　memory　of　a　dream　she　saw　herself　entering　the　house　as　a　very　small　girl；　with　the　trunk　and　the　little　rocker；　and　a　bag　whose　contents　she　had　never　known。　She　remembered　a　bald　gentleman　dressed　in　linen　and　with　his　collar　closed　by　a　gold　button；　who　had　nothing　to　do　with　the　king　of　hearts。　She　remembered　a　very　young　and　beautiful　woman　with　warm　and　perfumed　hands；　who　had　nothing　in　mon　with　the　jack　of　diamonds　and　his　rheumatic　hands；　and　who　used　to　put　flowers　in　her　hair　and　take　her　out　walking　in　the　afternoon　through　a　town　with　green　streets。
　　　“I　don’t　understand；？she　said。
　　　Pilar　Ternera　seemed　disconcerted：
　　　“I　don’t　either；　but　that’s　what　the　cards　say。？
　　　Rebeca　was　so　preoccupied　with　the　enigma　that　she　told　it　to　Jos？Arcadio　Buendía；　and　he　scolded　her　for　believing　in　the　predictions　of　the　cards；　but　he　undertook　the　silent　task　of　searching　closets　and　trunks；　moving　furniture　and　turning　over　beds　and　floorboards　looking　for　the　bag　of　bones。　He　remembered　that　he　had　not　seen　it　since　the　time　of　the　rebuilding。　He　secretly　summoned　the　masons　and　one　of　them　revealed　that　he　had　walled　up　the　bag　in　some　bedroom　because　it　bothered　him　in　his　work。　After　several　days　of　listening；　with　their　ears　against　the　walls；　they　perceived　the　deep　cloc…cloc。　They　penetrated　the　wall　and　there　were　the　bones　in　the　intact　bag。　They　buried　it　the　same　day　in　a　grave　without　a　stone　next　to　that　of　Melquíades；　and　Jos？Arcadio　Buendía　returned　home　free　of　a　burden　that　for　a　moment　had　weighed　on　his　conscience　as　much　as　the　memory　of　Prudencio　Aguilar。　When　he　went　through　the　kitchen　he　kissed　Rebeca　on　the　forehead。
　　　“Get　those　bad　thoughts　out　of　your　head；？he　told　her。　“You’re　going　to　be　happy。？
　　　The　friendship　with　Rebeca　opened　up　to　Pilar　Ternera　the　doors　of　the　house；　closed　by　？rsula　since　the　birth　of　Arcadio。　She　would　arrive　at　any　hour　of　the　day；　like　a　flock　of　goats；　and　would　unleash　her　feverish　energy　in　the　hardest　tasks。　Sometimes　she　would　go　into　the　workshop　and　help　Arcadio　sensitize　the　daguerreotype　plates　with　an　efficiency　and　a　tenderness　that　ended　up　by　confusing　him。　That　woman　bothered　him。　The　tan　of　her　skin；　her　smell　of　smoke；　the　disorder　of　her　laughter　in　the　darkroom　distracted　his　attention　and　made　him　bump　into　things。
　　　On　a　certain　occasion　Aureliano　was　there　working　on　his　silver；　and　Pilar　Ternera　leaned　over　the　table　to　admire　his　laborious　patience。　Suddenly　it　happened。　Aureliano　made　sure　that　Arcadio　was　in　the　darkroom　before　raising　his　eyes　and　meeting　those　of　Pilar　Ternera；　whose　thought　was　perfectly　visible；　as　if　exposed　to　the　light　of　noon。
　　　“Well；？Aureliano　said。　“Tell　me　what　it　is。？
　　　Pilar　Ternera　bit　her　lips　with　a　sad　smile。
　　　“That　you’d　be　good　in　a　war；？she　said。　“Where　you　put　your　eye；　you　put　your　bullet。？
　　　Aureliano　relaxed　with　the　proof　of　the　omen。　He　went　back　to　concentrate　on　his　work　as　if　nothing　had　happened；　and　his　voice　took　on　a　restful　strength。
　　　“I　will　recognize　him；？he　said。　“He’ll　bear　my　name。？
　　　Jos？Arcadio　Buendía　finally　got　what　he　was　looking　for：　he　connected　the　mechanism　of　the　clock　to　a　mechanical　ballerina；　and　the　toy　danced　uninterruptedly　to　the　rhythm　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　high…sounding　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　chocolate…colored　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　part