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百年孤独|One Hundred Years of Solitude

第2章|Chapter 2

属类： 双语小说 【分类】双语小说 -[作者: 加夫列尔-加西亚-马尔克斯] 阅读：[3718]
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十六世纪，海盗弗兰西斯·德拉克围攻列奥阿察的时候，乌苏娜。伊古阿兰的曾祖母被当当的警钟声和隆隆的炮击声吓坏了，由于神经紧张，竞一屁股坐在生了火的炉子上。因此，曾祖母受了严重的的伤，再也无法过夫妻生活。她只能用半个屁股坐着，而且只能坐在软垫子上，步态显然也是不雅观的；所以，她就不愿在旁人面前走路了。她认为自己身上有一股焦糊味儿，也就拒绝跟任何人交往。她经常在院子里过夜，一直呆到天亮，不敢走进卧室去睡觉：因为她老是梦见英国人带着恶狗爬进窗子，用烧红的铁器无耻地刑讯她。她给丈夫生了两个儿子；她的丈夫是亚拉冈的商人，把自己的一半钱财都用来医治妻子，希望尽量减轻她的痛苦。最后，他盘掉自己的店铺，带者一家人远远地离开海滨，到了印第安人的一个村庄，村庄是在山脚下，他在那儿为妻子盖了一座没有窗子的住房，免得她梦中的海盗钻进屋子。

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在这荒僻的村子里，早就有个两班牙人的后裔，叫做霍塞·阿卡蒂奥·布恩蒂亚，他是栽种烟草的；乌苏娜的曾祖父和他一起经营这桩有利可图的事业，短时期内两人都建立了很好的家业。多少年过去了，西班牙后裔的曾孙儿和亚拉冈人的曾孙女结了婚。每当大夫的荒唐行为使乌苏娜生气的时候，她就一下子跳过世事纷繁的三百年，咒骂弗兰西斯·德拉克围攻列奥阿察的那个日子。不过，她这么做，只是为了减轻心中的痛苦；实际上，把她跟他终生连接在一起的，是比爱情更牢固的关系：共同的良心谴责。乌苏娜和丈夫是表兄妹，他俩是在古老的村子里一块儿长大的，由于沮祖辈辈的垦殖，这个村庄已经成了今省最好的一个。尽管他俩之间的婚姻是他俩刚刚出世就能预见到的，然而两个年轻人表示结婚愿望的时候，双方的家长都反对。几百年来，两族的人是杂配的，他们生怕这两个健全的后代可能丢脸地生出一只蜥蜴。这样可怕的事已经发牛过一次。乌苏娜的婶婶嫁给霍·阿·布恩蒂亚的叔叔，生下了一个儿子：这个儿子一辈子部穿着肥大的灯笼裤，活到四十二岁还没结婚就流血而死，因为他生下来就长着一条尾巴——尖端有一撮毛的螺旋形软骨。这种名副其实的猪尾巴是他不愿让任何一个女人看见的，最终要了他的命，因为一个熟识的屠夫按照他的要求，用切肉刀把它割掉了。十九岁的霍·阿·布恩蒂亚无忧无虑地用一句话结束了争论：“我可不在乎生出猪崽子，只要它们会说话就行。”于是他俩在花炮声中举行了婚礼铜管乐队，一连闹腾了三个昼夜。在这以后，年轻夫妇本来可以幸福地生活，可是乌苏娜的母亲却对未来的后代作出不大吉利的预言，借以吓唬自己的女儿，甚至怂恿女儿拒绝按照章法跟他结合。她知道大夫是个力大、刚强的人，担心他在她睡着时强迫她，所以，她在上床之前，都穿上母亲拿厚帆布给她缝成的一条衬裤；衬裤是用交叉的皮带系住的，前面用一个大铁扣扣紧。夫妇俩就这样过了若干月。白天，他照料自己的斗鸡，她就和母亲一块儿在刺染上绣花。夜晚，年轻夫妇却陷入了烦恼而激烈的斗争，这种斗争逐渐代替了爱情的安慰。可是，机灵的邻人立即觉得情况不妙，而且村中传说，乌苏娜出嫁一年以后依然是个处女，因为丈大有点儿毛病。霍·阿·布恩蒂亚是最后听到这个谣言的。

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“乌苏娜，你听人家在说什么啦，”他向妻子平静他说。

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“让他们去嚼舌头吧，”她回答。“咱们知道那不是真的。”

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他们的生活又这样过了半年，直到那个倒霉的星期天，霍·阿·布恩蒂亚的公鸡战胜了普鲁登希奥·阿吉廖尔的公鸡。输了的普鲁登希奥·阿吉廖尔，一见鸡血就气得发疯，故意离开霍·阿·布恩蒂亚远一点儿，想让斗鸡棚里的人都能听到他的话。

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“恭喜你呀！”他叫道。“也许你的这只公鸡能够帮你老婆的忙。咱们瞧吧！”

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霍·阿·布恩蒂亚不动声色地从地上拎起自己的公鸡。“我马上就来，”他对大家说，然后转向普鲁登希奥，阿吉廖尔：

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“你回去拿武器吧，我准备杀死你。”

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过了十分钟，他就拿着一枝粗大的标枪回来了，这标枪还是他祖父的。斗鸡棚门口拥聚了几乎半个村子的人，普鲁登希奥·阿吉廖尔正在那儿等候。他还来不及自卫，霍·阿·布恩蒂亚的标枪就击中了他的咽喉，标枪是猛力掷出的，非常准确；由于这种无可指摘的准确，霍塞·奥雷连诺·布恩蒂亚（注：布恩蒂亚的祖父）从前曾消灭了全区所有的豹子。夜晚在斗鸡棚里，亲友们守在死者棺材旁边的时候，霍·阿·布恩蒂业走进自己的卧室，看见妻子正在穿她的“贞节裤”。他拿标枪对准她，命令道：“脱掉！”乌苏娜并不怀疑丈夫的决心。“出了事，你负责，”她警告说。霍·阿·布恩蒂亚把标枪插入泥地。

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“你生下蜥蜴，咱们就抚养蜥蜴，”他说。“可是村里再也不会有人由于你的过错而被杀死了。”

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这是一个美妙的六月的夜晚，月光皎洁，凉爽宜人。他俩通古未睡，在床上折腾，根本没去理会穿过卧室的轻风，风儿带来了普鲁登希奥·阿吉廖尔亲人的哭声。

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人们把这桩事情说成是光荣的决斗，可是两夫妇却感到了良心的谴责。有一天夜里，乌苏娜还没睡觉，出去喝水，在院子里的大土罐旁边看见了普鲁登希奥·阿吉廖尔。他脸色死白、十分悲伤，试图用一块麻屑堵住喉部正在流血的伤口。看见死人，乌苏娜感到的不是恐惧，而是怜悯。她回到卧室里，把这件怪事告诉了丈夫，可是丈夫并不重视她的话。“死人是不会走出坟墓的，”他说。“这不过是咱们受到良心的责备。”过了两夜，乌苏娜在浴室里遇见普鲁登希奥·阿吉廖尔--他正在用麻屑擦洗脖子上的凝血。另一个夜晚，她发现他在雨下徘徊。霍·阿·布恩蒂亚讨厌妻子的幻象，就带着标枪到院子里去。死人照旧悲伤地立在那儿。

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“滚开！”霍·阿·布恩蒂亚向他吆喝。“你回来多少次，我就要打死你多少次。”

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普鲁登希奥没有离开，而霍·阿·布恩蒂亚却不敢拿标枪向他掷去。从那时起，他就无法安稳地睡觉了。他老是痛苦地想起死人穿过雨丝望着他的无限凄凉的眼神，想起死人眼里流露的对活人的深切怀念，想起普鲁登希奥·阿吉廖尔四处张望。寻找水来浸湿一块麻屑的不安神情。“大概，他很痛苦，”霍·阿·布恩蒂亚向妻子说。“看来，他很孤独。”乌苏娜那么怜悯死人，下一次遇见时，她发现他盯着炉灶上的铁锅，以为他在寻找什么，于是就在整个房子里到处都给他摆了一罐罐水。那一夜，霍·阿·布恩蒂亚看见死人在他自己的卧室里洗伤口，于是就屈服了。

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“好吧，普鲁登希奥，”他说。“我们尽量离开这个村子远一些，决不再回这儿来了。现在，你就安心走吧。”

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就这样，他们打算翻过山岭到海边去。霍·阿·布恩蒂亚的几个朋友，象他一样年轻，也想去冒险，离开自己的家，带着妻室儿女去寻找土地……渺茫的土地。在离开村子之前，霍．阿·布恩蒂亚把标枪埋在院子里，接二连三砍掉了自己所有斗鸡的脑袋，希望以这样的牺牲给普鲁登希奥·阿吉廖尔一些安慰。乌苏娜带走的只是一口放着嫁妆的箱子、一点儿家庭用具、以及藏放父亲遗产--金币--的一只盒子。谁也没有预先想好一定的路线。他们决定朝着与列奥阿察相反的方向前进，以免遇见任何熟人，从而无影无踪地消失。这是一次荒唐可笑的旅行。过了一年零两个月，乌苏娜虽然用猴内和蛇汤毁坏了自己的肚子，却终于生下了一个儿子，婴儿身体各部完全没有牲畜的征状。因她脚肿，脚上的静脉胀得象囊似的，整整一半的路程，她都不得不躺在两个男人抬着的担架上面。孩子们比父母更容易忍受艰难困苦，他们大部分时间都鲜蹦活跳，尽管样儿可怜--两眼深陷，肚子瘪瘪的。有一天早晨，在几乎两年的流浪以后，他们成了第一批看见山岭西坡的人。从云雾遮蔽的山岭上，他们望见了一片河流纵横的辽阔地带---直伸到天边的巨大沼泽。可是他们始终没有到达海边。在沼泽地里流浪了几个月，路上没有遇见一个人，有一天夜晚，他们就在一条多石的河岸上扎营，这里的河水很象凝固的液体玻璃。多年以后，在第二次国内战争时期，奥雷连诺打算循着这条路线突然占领列奥阿察，可是六天以后他才明白，他的打算纯粹是发疯。然而那夭晚上，在河边扎营以后，他父亲的旅伴们虽然很象遇到船舶失事的人，但是旅途上他们的人数增多了，大伙儿都准备活到老（这一点他们做到了）。夜里，霍·阿·布恩蒂亚做了个梦，营地上仿佛矗立起一座热闹的城市，房屋的墙壁都用晶莹夺目的透明材料砌成。他打听这是什么城市，听到的回答是一个陌生的、毫无意义的名字，可是这个名字在梦里却异常响亮动听：马孔多。翌日，他就告诉自己的人，他们绝对找不到海了。他叫大伙儿砍倒树木，在河边最凉爽的地方开辟一块空地，在空地上建起了一座村庄。

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在看见冰块之前，霍·阿·布恩蒂亚始终猜不破自己梦见的玻璃房子。后来，他以为自己理解了这个梦境的深刻意义。他认为，不久的将来，他们就能用水这样的普通材料大规模地制作冰砖，来给全村建筑新的房子。当时，马孔多好象一个赤热的火炉，门闩和窗子的铰链都热得变了形；用冰砖修盖房子，马孔多就会变成一座永远凉爽的市镇了。如果霍·阿·布恩蒂亚没有坚持建立冰厂的打算，只是因为他当时全神贯注地教育两个儿子，特别是奥雷连诺，这孩子一开始就对炼金术表现了罕见的才能。试验室里的工作又紧张起来。现在，父子俩已经没有被新奇事物引起的那种激动心情，只是平平静静地反复阅读梅尔加德斯的笔记，持久而耐心地努力，试图从粘在锅底的一大块东西里面把乌苏娜的金子分离出来。大儿子霍·阿卡蒂奥几乎不参加这个工作。当父亲身心都沉湎于熔铁炉旁的工作时，这个身材过早超过年岁的任性的头生子，已经成了一个魁梧的青年。他的嗓音变粗了·脸颊和下巴都长出了茸毛。有一天晚上，他正在卧室里脱衣睡觉，乌苏娜走了进来，竟然产生了羞涩和怜恤的混合感觉，因为除了丈夫，她看见赤身露体的第一个男人就是儿子，而且儿子生理上显得反常，甚至使她吓了一跳。已经怀着第三个孩子的乌苏娜，重新感到了以前作新娘时的那种恐惧。

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那时，有个女人常来布恩蒂亚家里，帮助乌苏娜做些家务。这个女人愉快、热情、嘴尖，会用纸牌占卜。乌苏娜跟这女人谈了谈自己的忧虑。她觉得孩子的发育是不匀称的，就象她的亲戚长了条猪尾巴。女人止不住地放声大笑，笑声响彻了整座屋子，仿佛水晶玻璃铃铛。“恰恰相反，”她说。“他会有福气的。”

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“过了几天，为了证明自己的预言准确，她带来一副纸牌，把自己和霍·阿卡蒂奥锁在厨房旁边的库房里。她不慌不忙地在一张旧的木工台上摆开纸牌，口中念念有词；这时，年轻人伫立一旁，与其说对这套把戏感到兴趣，不如说觉得厌倦。忽然，占卜的女人伸手摸了他一下。“我的天！”她真正吃惊地叫了一声，就再也说不出什么话了。

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霍·阿卡蒂奥感到，他的骨头变得象海绵一样酥软，感到困乏和恐惧，好不容易才忍住泪水。女人一点也没有激励他。可他整夜都在找她，整夜都觉到她腋下发出的气味：这种气味仿佛渗进了他的躯体。他希望时时刻刻跟她在一起，希望她成为他的母亲，希望他和她永远也不走出库房，希望她向他说：“我的天！”重新摸他，重新说：“我的天！”有一日，他再也忍受不了这种烦恼了，就到她的家里去。这次访问是礼节性的，也是莫名其妙的--在整个访问中，霍·阿卡蒂奥一次也没开口。此刻他不需要她了。他觉得，她完全不象她的气味在他心中幻化的形象，仿佛这根本不是她．而是另一个人。他喝完咖啡，就十分沮丧地回家。夜里，他翻来覆去睡不着觉，又感到极度的难受，可他此刻渴望的不是跟他一起在库房里的那个女人，而是下午坐在他面前的那个女人了。

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过了几天，女人忽然把霍·阿卡蒂奥带到了她的家中，并且借口教他一种纸牌戏法，从她跟母亲坐在一起的房间里，把他领进一间卧窄。在这儿，她那么放肆地摸他，使得他浑身不住地战栗，但他感到的是恐惧，而不是快乐。随后，她叫他夜间再未。霍·阿卡蒂奥口头答应，心里却希望尽快摆脱她，--他知道自己天不能来的。然而夜间，躺在热烘烘的被窝里，他觉得自己应当去她那儿，即使自己不能这么干。他在黑暗中摸着穿上衣服，听到弟弟平静的呼吸声、隔壁房间里父亲的产咳声、院子里母鸡的咯咯声、蚊子的嗡嗡声、自己的心脏跳动声--世界上这些乱七八糟的声音以前是不曾引起他的注意的，然后，他走到沉入梦乡的街上。他满心希望房门是门上的，而下只是掩上的（她曾这样告诉过他）。担它井没有闩上。他用指尖一推房门，铰链就清晰地发出悲鸣，这种悲鸣在他心中引起的是冰凉的回响。他尽量不弄出响声，侧着身子走进房里，马上感觉到了那种气味，霍·阿卡蒂奥还在第一个房间里，女人的三个弟弟通常是悬起吊床过夜的；这些吊床在什么地方，他并不知道，在黑暗中也辨别不清，因此，他只得摸索着走到卧室门前，把门推开，找准方向，免得弄错床铺。他往前摸过去，立即撞上了一张吊床的床头，这个吊床低得出乎他的预料。一个正在乎静地打鼾的人，梦中翻了个身，声音有点悲观他说了句梦话：“那是星期三。”当霍·阿卡蒂奥推开卧室门的时候，他无法制止房门擦过凹凸不平的地面。他处在一团漆黑中，既苦恼又慌乱，明白自己终于迷失了方向。睡在这个狭窄房间里的，是母亲、她的第二个女儿和丈夫、两个孩子和另一个女人，这个女人显然不是等他的。他可以凭气味找到，然而到处都是气味，那么细微又那么明显的气味，就象现在经常留在他身上的那种气味。霍·阿卡蒂奥呆然不动地站了好久，惊骇地问了问自己，怎会陷入这个束手无策的境地，忽然有一只伸开指头的手在黑暗中摸索，碰到了他的面孔，他并不觉得奇怪，因为他下意识地正在等着别人摸他。他把自己交给了这只手，他在精疲力尽的状态中让它把他拉到看不见的床铺跟前；在这儿，有人脱掉了他的衣服，把他象一袋土豆似的举了起来，在一片漆黑里把他翻来覆去；在黑暗中，他的双手无用了，这儿不再闻女人的气味，只有阿莫尼亚的气味，他力图回忆她的面孔，他的眼前却恍惚浮现出乌苏娜的而孔；他模糊地觉得，他正在做他早就想做的事儿，尽倚他决不认为他能做这种事儿，他自己并不知道这该怎么做，并不知道双手放在哪儿，双脚放在哪儿，并不知道这是谁的脑袋、谁的腿；他觉得自己再也不能继续下去了，他渴望逃走，又渴望永远留在这种极度的寂静中，留在这种可怕的孤独中。

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这个女人叫做皮拉·苔列娜。按照父母的意愿，她参加过最终建立马孔多村的长征。父母想让自己的女儿跟一个男人分开，她十四岁时，那人就使她失去了贞操，她满二十二岁时，他还继续跟她生在一起，可是怎么也拿不定使婚姻合法化的主意，因为他不是她本村的人。他发誓说，他要跟随她到夭涯海角，但要等他把自己的事情搞好以后；从那时起，她就一直等着他，已经失去了相见的希望，尽管纸牌经常向她预示，将有各式各样的男人来找她，高的和矮的、金发和黑发的；有的从陆上来，有的从海上来，有的过三天来，有的过三月来，有的过三年来。等呀盼呀，她的大腿已经失去了劲头，胸脯已经失去了弹性，她已疏远了男人的爱抚，可是心里还很狂热。现在，霍·阿卡蒂奥对新颖而奇异的玩耍入了迷，每天夜里都到迷宫式的房间里来找她。有一回，他发现房门是闩上的，就笃笃地敲门；他以为，他既有勇气敲第一次，那就应当敲到底……等了许久，她才把门打开。白天，他因睡眠不足躺下了，还在暗暗回味昨夜的事。可是，皮拉·苔列娜来到布恩蒂亚家里的时候，显得高高兴兴、满不在乎、笑语联珠，霍·阿卡蒂奥不必费劲地掩饰自己的紧张，因为这个女人响亮的笑声能够吓跑在院子里踱来踱去的鸽子，她跟那个具有无形力量的女人毫无共同之处，那个女人曾经教他如何屏住呼吸和控制心跳，帮助他了解男人为什么怕死。他全神贯注于自己的体会，甚至不了解周围的人在高兴什么，这时，他的父亲和弟弟说，他们终于透过金属渣滓取出了乌苏娜的金子，这个消息简直震动了整座房子。

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事实上，他们是经过多日坚持不懈的努力取得成功的。乌苏娜挺高兴，甚至感谢上帝发明了炼金术，村里的居民挤进试验室，主人就拿抹上番石榴酱的烤饼招待他们，庆祝这个奇迹的出现，而霍·阿·布恩蒂亚却让他们参观一个坩埚，里面放着复原的金子，他的神情仿佛表示这金子是他刚刚发明的，他从一个人走到另一个人跟前，最后来到大儿子身边。大儿子最近几乎不来试验室了。布恩蒂亚把一块微黄的干硬东西拿到他的眼前，问道，“你看这象什么？”

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霍·阿卡蒂奥直耿耿地回答：

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“象狗屎。”

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父亲用手背在他嘴唇上碰了一下，碰得很重，霍·阿卡蒂奥嘴里竟然流出血来，眼里流出泪来。夜里，皮拉·苔列娜在黑暗中摸到一小瓶药和棉花，拿浸了亚尔尼加碘酒的压布贴在肿处，为霍·阿卡蒂奥尽心地做了一切，而没有使他产生仟何不舒服之感，竭力爱护他，而不碰痛他。他俩达到了那样亲密的程度，过了一会儿，他俩就不知不觉地在夜间幽会中第一次低声交谈起来：

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“我只想跟你在一起，”他说。“最近几天内，我就要把一切告诉人家，别再这么捉迷藏了。”

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皮拉·苔列娜不想劝阻他。

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“那很好嘛，”她说。“如果咱俩单独在一块儿，咱们就把灯点上，彼此都能看见，我想叫喊就能叫喊，跟别人不相干；而你想说什么蠢话，就可在我耳边说什么蠢话。”

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霍·阿卡蒂奥经过这场谈话，加上他对父亲的怨气，而且他认为作法的爱情在一切情况下都是可以的，他就心安理得、勇气倍增了。没有任何准备，他自动把一闭告诉了弟弟。

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起初，年幼的奥雷连诺只把霍·阿卡蒂奥的艳遇看做是哥哥面临的可怕危险，不明白什么力量吸引了哥哥。可是，霍·阿卡蒂奥的烦躁不安逐渐传染了他。他要哥哥谈谈那些细微情节，跟哥哥共苦同乐，他感到自己既害怕又快活，现在，他却等首霍·阿卡蒂奥回来，直到天亮都没合眼，在孤单的床上辗转反侧，仿佛躺在一堆烧红的炭上；随后，兄弟俩一直谈到早该起床的时候，很快陷入半昏迷状态；两人都同样厌恶炼金术和父亲的聪明才智，变得孤僻了。“孩子们的样儿没有一点精神，”乌苏娜说。“也许肠里有虫子。”她用捣碎的美洲土荆芥知心话来。哥哥不象以前那么诚恳了。他从态度和蔼的、容易接近的人变成了怀着戒心的、孤僻的人。他痛恨整个世界，渴望孤身独处。有一天夜里，他又离开了，但是没有去皮拉·苔列娜那儿，而跟拥在吉卜赛帐篷周围看热闹的人混在一起。他踱来踱去地看了看各种精彩节目，对任何一个节目都不感兴趣，却注意到了一个非展览品---个年轻的吉卜赛女人；这女人几乎是个小姑娘，脖子上戴着一串挺重的玻璃珠子，因此弯着身子。霍·阿卡蒂奥有生以来还没见过比她更美的人。姑娘站在人群当中看一幕惨剧：一个人由于不听父母的话，变成了一条蛇。

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霍·阿卡蒂奥根本没看这个不幸的人。当观众向“蛇人”询问他那悲惨的故事细节时，年轻的霍·阿卡蒂奥就挤到第一排吉卜赛姑娘那儿去，站在她的背后，然后紧贴着她。她想挪开一些，可他把她贴得更紧。于是，她感觉到了他。她愣着没动，惊恐得发颤，不相信自己的感觉，终于回头胆怯地一笑，瞄了霍·阿卡蒂奥一眼，这时，两个吉卜赛人把“蛇人”装进了笼子，搬进帐篷。指挥表演的吉卜赛人宣布：

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“现在，女士们和先生们，我们将给你们表演一个可怕的节目--每夜这个时候都要砍掉一个女人的脑袋，连砍一百五十年，以示惩罚，因为她看了她不该看的东西。”

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霍·阿卡蒂奥和吉卜赛姑娘没有参观砍头。他俩走进了她的帐篷，由于冲动就接起吻来，并且脱掉了衣服；吉卜赛姑娘从身上脱掉了浆过的花边紧身兜，就变得一丝不挂了。这是一只千瘪的小青蛙，胸部还没发育，两腿挺瘦，比霍·阿卡蒂奥的胳膊还细；可是她的果断和热情却弥补了她的赢弱。然而，霍·阿卡蒂奥不能以同样的热劲儿回答她，因为他们是在一个公用帐篷里，吉卜赛人不时拿着各种杂耍器具进来，在这儿干事，甚至就在床铺旁边的地上掷骰子·帐篷中间的木竿上挂着一盏灯，照亮了每个角落。在爱抚之间的短暂停歇中，霍·阿卡蒂奥赤裸裸地躺在床上，不知道该怎么办，而姑娘却一再想刺激他。过了一会，一个身姿优美的吉卜赛女人和一个男人一起走进帐篷，这个男人不属于杂技团，也不是本村的人。两人就在床边脱衣解带。女人偶然看了霍·阿卡蒂奥一眼。

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“孩子，”她叫道，“上帝保佑你，走开吧！”

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霍·阿卡蒂奥的女伴要求对方不要打扰他俩，于是新来的一对只好躺在紧靠床铺的地上。

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这是星期四。星期六晚上，霍·阿卡蒂奥在头上扎了块红布，就跟吉卜赛人一起离开了马孔多。

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发现儿子失踪之后，乌苏娜就在整个村子里到处找他，在吉卜赛人先前搭篷的地方，她只看见一堆堆垃圾和还在冒烟的篝火灰烬。有些村民在刨垃圾堆，希望找到玻璃串珠，其中一个村民向乌苏娜说，昨夜他曾看见她的儿子跟杂技演员们在一起--霍·阿卡蒂奥推着一辆小车，车上有一只装着“蛇人”的笼子。“他变成吉卜赛人啦！”她向丈夫吵嚷，可是丈夫对于儿子的失踪丝毫没有表示惊慌。

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“这倒不坏，”霍·阿·布恩蒂亚一面说，一面在研钵里捣什么东西；这东西已经反复捣过多次，加热多次，现在还在研钵里。“他可以成为一个男子汉了。”

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乌苏娜打听了吉卜赛人所去的方向，就沿着那条路走去，碰见每一个人都要问一问，希望追上大群吉卜赛人，因此离开村子越来越远；终于看出自己走得过远，她就认为用不着回头了，到了晚上八点，霍·阿·布恩蒂亚才发现妻子失踪，当时他把东西放在一堆肥料上，决定去看看小女儿阿玛兰塔是怎么回事，因为她到这时哭得嗓子都哑了。在几小时内，他毫不犹豫地集合了一队装备很好的村民，把阿玛兰塔交给一个自愿充当奶妈的女人，就踏上荒无人迹的小道，去寻找乌苏娜了。他是把奥雷连诺带在身边的。拂晓时分，几个印第安渔人用手势向他们表明：谁也不曾走过这儿。经过三天毫无效果的寻找，他们回到了村里。

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霍·阿·布恩蒂亚苦恼了好久。他象母亲一样照拂小女儿阿玛兰塔。他给她洗澡、换襁褓，一天四次抱她去奶妈那儿，晚上甚至给她唱歌（乌苏娜是从来不会唱歌的）。有一次，皮拉·苔列娜自愿来这儿照料家务，直到乌苏娜回来。在不幸之中，奥雷连诺神秘的洞察力更加敏锐了，他一见皮拉·苔列娜走进屋来，就好象恍然大悟。他明白：根据某种无法说明的原因，他哥哥的逃亡和母亲的失踪都是这个女人的过错，所以他用那么一声不吭和嫉恶如仇的态度对待她，她就再也不来了。

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时间一过，一切照旧。霍·阿·布恩蒂亚和他的儿子自己也不知道，他们究竟是什么时候回到试验室里的，他们打扫了尘上，点燃了炉火，又专心地忙于摆弄那在一堆肥料上放了几个月的东西了。阿玛兰塔躺在一只柳条篮子里，房间中的空气充满了汞气；她好奇地望着爸爸和哥哥聚精会神地工作。乌苏娜失踪之后过了几个月，试验室里开始发生奇怪的事。早就扔在厨房里的空瓶子忽然重得无法挪动。工作台上锅里的水无火自沸起来，咕嘟了整整半个小时，直到完全蒸发。霍·阿·布恩蒂亚和他的儿子对这些怪事都很惊讶、激动，不知如何解释，但把它们看成是新事物的预兆。有一天，阿玛兰塔的篮子突然自己动了起来，在房间里绕圈子，奥雷连诺看了非常吃惊，赶忙去把它拦住。可是霍·阿·布恩蒂亚一点也不惊异。他把篮子放在原处，拴在桌腿上面。篮子的移动终于使他相信，他们的希望快要实现了。就在这时，奥雷连诺听见他说：

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“即使你不害怕上帝，你也会害怕金属。”

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失踪之后几乎过了五个月，乌苏娜回来了。她显得异常兴奋；有点返老还童，穿着村里人谁也没有穿过的新式衣服。霍·阿·布恩蒂亚高兴得差点儿发了疯，“原来如此！正象我预料的！”他叫了起来。这是真的，因为待在试验室里进行物质试验的长时间中，他曾在内心深处祈求上帝，他所期待的奇迹不是发现点金石，也不是哈口气让金属具有生命，更不是发明一种办法，以便把金子变成房锁和窗子的铰链，而是刚刚发生的事--乌苏娜的归来。但她并没有跟他一起发狂地高兴。她照旧给了丈夫一个乐吻，仿佛他俩不过一小时以前才见过面似的。说道：

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“到门外去看看吧！”

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霍·阿·布恩蒂亚走到街上，看见自己房子前面的一群人，他好半天才从混乱状态中清醒过来。这不是吉卜赛人，而是跟马孔多村民一样的男人和女人，平直的头发，黝黑的皮肤，说的是同样的语言，抱怨的是相同的痛苦。站在他们旁边的是驮着各种食物的骡子，套上阉牛的大车，车上载着家具和家庭用具－－一尘世生活中必不可缺的简单用具，这些用具是商人每天都在出售的。

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这些人是从沼泽地另一边来的，总共两天就能到达那儿，可是那儿建立了城镇，那里的人一年当中每个月都能收到邮件，而且使用能够改善生活的机器。乌苏娜没有追上吉卜赛人，但却发现了她丈夫枉然寻找伟大发明时未能发现的那条道路。

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WHEN THE PIRATE Sir Francis Drake attacked Riohacha in the sixteenth century, úrsula Iguarán’s great-great-grandmother became so frightened with the ringing of alarm bells and the firing of cannons that she lost control of her nerves and sat down on a lighted stove. The burns changed her into a useless wife for the rest of her days. She could only sit on one side, cushioned by pillows, and something strange must have happened to her way of walking, for she never walked again in public. She gave up all kinds of social activity, obsessed with the notion that her body gave off a singed odor. Dawn would find her in the courtyard, for she did not dare fall asleep lest she dream of the English and their ferocious attack dogs as they came through the windows of her bedroom to submit her to shameful tortures with their red-hot irons. Her husband, an Aragonese merchant by whom she had two children, spent half the value of his store on medicines and pastimes in an attempt to alleviate her terror. Finally he sold the business and took the family to live far from the sea in a settlement of peaceful Indians located in the foothills, where he built his wife a bedroom without windows so that the pirates of her dream would have no way to get in.

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"Look at what people are going around saying, úrsula," he told his wife very calmly.

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"Let them talk," she said. "We know that it’s not true."

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So the situation went on the same way for another six months until that tragic Sunday when José Arcadio Buendía won a cockfight from Prudencio Aguilar. Furious, aroused by the blood of his bird, the loser backed away from José Arcadio Buendía so that everyone in the cockpit could hear what he was going to tell him.

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"Congratulations!" he shouted. "Maybe that rooster of yours can do your wife a favor."

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José Arcadio Buendía serenely picked up his rooster. "I’ll be right back," he told everyone. And then to Prudencio Aguilar:

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Ten minutes later he returned with the notched spear that had belonged to his grandfather. At the door to the cockpit, where half the town had gathered, Prudencio Aguilar was waiting for him. There was no time to defend himself. José Arcadio Buendía’s spear, thrown with the strength a bull and with the same good aim with which the first Aureliano Buendía had exterminated the jaguars in the region, pierced his throat. That night, as they held a wake over the corpse in the cockpit, José Arcadio Buendía went into the bedroom as his wife was putting on her chastity pants. Pointing the spear at her he ordered: "Take them off." úrsula had no doubt about her husband’s decision. "You’ll be responsible for what happens," she murmured. José Arcadio Buendía stuck the spear into the dirt floor.

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"If you bear iguanas, we’ll raise iguanas," he said. "But there’ll be no more killings in this town because of you."

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It was a fine June night, cool a moon, and they were awake and frolicking in bed until dawn, indifferent to the breeze that passed through the bedroom, loaded with the weeping of Prudencio Aguilar’s kin.

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The matter was put down as a duel of honor, but both of them were left with a twinge in their conscience. One night, when she could not sleep, úrsula went out into the courtyard to get some water and she saw Prudencio Aguilar by the water jar. He was livid, a sad expression on his face, trying to cover the hole in his throat with a plug made esparto grass. It did not bring on fear in her, but pity. She went back to the room and told her husband what she had seen, but he did not think much of it. "This just means that we can’t stthe weight of our conscience." Two nights later úrsula saw Prudencio Aguilar again, in the bathroom, using the esparto plug to wash the clotted blood from his throat. On another night she saw him strolling in the rain. José Arcadio Buendía, annoyed by his wife’s hallucinations, went out into the courtyard armed with the spear. There was the dead man with his sad expression.

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"You go to hell," José Arcadio Buendía shouted at him. "Just as many times as you come back, I’ll kill you again."

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Prudencio Aguilar did not go away, nor did José Arcadio Buendía dare throw the spear. He never slept well after that. He was tormented by the immense desolation with which the dead man had looked at him through the rain, his deep nostalgia as he yearned for living people, the anxiety with which he searched through the house looking for some water with which to soak his esparto plug. "He must be suffering a great deal," he said to úrsula. "You can see that he’s so very lonely." She was so moved that the next time she saw the dead man uncovering the pots on the stove she understood what he was looking for, and from then on she placed water jugs all about the house. One night when he found him washing his wound in his own room, José Anedio Buendía could no longer resist.

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That was how they undertook the crossing of the mountains. Several friends of José Arcadio Buendía, young men like him, excited, by the adventure, dismantled their houses and packed up, along with their wives and children, to head toward the land that no one had promised them. Before he left, José Arcadio Buendía buried the spear in the courtyard and, one after the other, he cut the throats of his magnificent fighting cocks, trusting that in that way he could give some measure of peace to Prudencio Aguilar. All that úrsula took along were a trunk bridal clothes, a few household utensils, and the small chest with the gold pieces that she had inherited from her father. They did not lay out any definite itinerary. They simply tried to go in a direction opposite to the road to Riohacha so that they would not leave any trace or meet any people they knew. It was an absurd journey. After fourteen months, her stomach corrupted by monkey meat and snake stew, úrsula gave birth to a son who had all of his features human. She had traveled half of the trip in a hammock that two men carried on their shoulders, because swelling had disfigured her legs and her varicose veins had puffed up like bubbles. Although it was pitiful to see them with their sunken stomachs and languid eyes, the children survived the journey better than their parents, and most of the time it was fun for them. One morning, after almost two years of crossing, they became the first mortals to see the western slopes of the mountain range. From the cloudy summit they saw the immense aquatic expanse of the great swamp as it spread out toward the other side of the world. But they never found the sea. One night, after several months of lost wandering through the swamps, far away now from the last Indians they had met on their way, they camped on the banks of a stony river whose waters were like a torrent of frozen glass. Years later, during the second civil war, Colonel Aureliano Buendía tried to follow that same route in order to take Riohacha by surprise and after six days of traveling he understood that it was madness. Nevertheless, the night on which they camped beside the river, his father’s host had the look of ship-wrecked people with no escape, but their number had grown during the crossing and they were all prepared (and they succeeded) to die of old age. José Arcadio Buendía dreamed that night that right there a noisy city with houses having mirror wails rose up. He asked what city it was and they answered him with a name that he had never heard, that had no meaning at all, but that had a supernatural echo in his dream: Macondo. On the following day he convinced his men that they would never find the sea. He ordered them to cut down the trees to make a clearing beside the river, at the coolest spot on the bank, and there they founded the village.

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José Arcadio Buendía did not succeed in deciphering the dream of houses with mirror walls until the day he discovered ice. Then he thought he understood its deep meaning. He thought that in the near future they would be able to manufacture blocks of ice on a large scale from such a common material as water them build the new houses of the village. Macondo would no longer be a burning place, where the hinges and door knockers twisted with the heat, but would be changed into a wintry city. he did not persevere in his attempts to build an ice factory, it was because at that time he was absolutely enthusiastic over the education of his sons, especially that of Aureliano, who from the first had revealed a strange intuition for alchemy. The laboratory had been dusted off. Reviewing Melquíades’ notes, serene now, without the exaltation of novelty, in prolonged and patient sessions they tried to separate úrsula’s gold from the debris that was stuck to the bottom of the pot. Young José Arcadio scarcely took part in the process. While his father was involved body and soul with his water pipe, the willful first-born, who had always been too big for his age, had become a monumental adolescent. His voice had changed. An incipient fuzz appeared on his upper lip. One night, as úrsula went into the room where he was undressing to go to bed, she felt a mingled sense of shame and pity: he was the first man that she had seen naked after her husband, and he was so well-equipped for life that he seemed abnormal. úrsula, pregnant for the third time, relived her newlywed terror.

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Around that time a merry, foul-mouthed, provocative woman came to the house to help with the chorea, and she knew how to read the future in cards. úrsula spoke to about her son. She thought that his disproportionate size was something as unnatural as her cousin’s tail of a pig. The woman let out an expansive laugh that resounded through the house like a spray of broken glass. "Just the opposite," she said. "He’ll be very lucky." In order to confirm her prediction she brought her cards to the house a few days later and locked herself up with José Arcadio in a granary off the kitchen. She calmly placed her cards on an old carpenter’s bench. saying anything that came into her head, while the boy waited beside her, more bored than intrigued. Suddenly she reached out htouched him. "Lordy!" she said, sincerely startled, and that was all she could say. José Arcadio felt his bones filling up with foam, a languid fear, and a terrible desire to weep. The woman made no insinuations. But José Arcadio kept looking for her all night long, for the smell of smoke that she had under her armpits and that had got caught under his skin. He wanted to be with her all the time, he wanted her to be his mother, for them never to leave the granary, for her to say "Lordy!" to him. One day he could not stand it any more and. he went looking for her at her house: He made a formal visit, sitting uncomprehendingly in the living room without saying a word. At that moment he had no desire for her. He found her different, entirely foreign to the image that her smell brought on, as if she were someone else. He drank his coffee and left the house in depression. That night, during the frightful time of lying awake, he desired her again with a brutal anxiety, but he did not want her that time as she had been in the granary but as she had been that afternoon.

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Days later the woman suddenly called him to her house, where she was alone with her mother, and she had him come into the bedroom with the pretext showing him a deck of cards. Then she touched such freedom that he suffered a delusion after the initial shudder, and he felt more fear than pleasure. She asked him to come and see her that night. He agreed. in order to get away, knowing that he was incapable of going. But that night, in his burning bed, he understood that he had to go we her, even if he were not capable. He got dressed by feel, listening in the dark to his brother’s calm breathing, the dry cough of his father in the next room, the asthma of the hens in the courtyard, the buzz of the mosquitoes, the beating of his heart, and the inordinate bustle of a world that he had not noticed until then, and he went out into the sleeping street. all his heart he wanted the door to be barred and not just closed as she had promised him. But it was open. He pushed it the tips of his fingers and the hinges yielded with a mournful and articulate moan that left a frozen echo inside of him. From the moment he entered, sideways and trying not to make a noise, he caught the smell. He was still in the hallway, where the woman’s three brothers had their hammocks in positions that he could not see and that he could not determine in the darkness as he felt his way along the hall to push open the bedroom door and get his bearings there so as not to mistake the bed. He found it. He bumped against the ropes of the hammocks, which were lower than he had suspected, and a man who had been snoring until then turned in his sleep and said in a kind of delusion, "It was Wednesday." When he pushed open the bedroom door, he could not prevent it from scraping against the uneven floor. Suddenly, in the absolute darkness, he understood with a hopeless nostalgia that he was completely disoriented. Sleeping in the narrow room were the mother, another daughter with her husband and two children, the woman, who may not have been there. He could have guided himself by the smell if the smell had not been all over the house, so devious and at the same time so definite, as it had always been on his skin. He did not move for a long time, wondering in fright how he had ever got to that abyss of abandonment, when a hand with all its fingers extended and feeling about in the darkness touched his face. He was not surprised, for without knowing, he had been expecting it. Then he gave himself over to that hand, and in a terrible state of exhaustion he let himself be led to a shapeless place where his clothes were taken off and he was heaved about like a sack of potatoes and thrown from one side to the other in a bottomless darkness in which his arms were useless, where it no longer smelled of woman but of ammonia, and where he tried to remember her face and found before him the face of úrsula, confusedly aware that he was doing something that for a very long time he had wanted to do but that he had imagined could really never be done, not knowing what he was doing because he did not know where his feet were or where his head was, or whose feet or whose head, and feeling that he could no longer resist the glacial rumbling of his kidneys and the air of his intestines, and fear, and the bewildered anxiety to flee and at the same time stay forever in that exasperated silence and that fearful solitude.

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Her name was Pilar Ternera. She had been part of the exodus that ended with the founding of Macondo, dragged along by her family in order to separate her from the man who had raped her at fourteen and had continued to love her until she was twenty-two, but who never made up his mind to make the situation public because he was a man apart. He promised to follow her to the ends of the earth, but only later on, when he put his affairs in order, and she had become tired of waiting for him, always identifying him with the tall and short, blond and brunet men that her cards promised from land and sea within three days, three months, or three years. With her waiting she had lost the strength of her thighs, the firmness of her breasts, her habit of tenderness, but she kept the madness of her heart intact. Maddened by that prodigious plaything, José Arcadio followed her path every night through the labyrinth of the room. On a certain occasion he found the door barred, and he knocked several times, knowing that if he had the boldness to knock the first time he would have had to knock until the last, and after an interminable wait she opened the door for him. During the day, lying down to dream, he would secretly enjoy the memories of the night before. But when she came into the house, merry, indifferent, chatty, he did not have to make any effort to hide his tension, because that woman, whose explosive laugh frightened off the doves, had nothing to do with the invisible power that taught him how to breathe from within and control his heartbeats, and that had permitted him to understand why man are afraid of death. He was so wrapped up in himself that he did not even understand the joy of everyone when his father and his brother aroused the household with the news that they had succeeded in penetrating the metallic debris and had separated úrsula’s gold.

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They had succeeded, as a matter of fact, after putting in complicated and persevering days at it. úrsula was happy, and she even gave thanks to God for the invention of alchemy, while the people of the village crushed into the laboratory, and they served them guava jelly on crackers to celebrate the wonder, and José Arcadio Buendía let them see the crucible with the recovered gold, as if he had just invented it. Showing it all around, he ended up in front of his older son, who during the past few days had barely put in an appearance in the laboratory. He put the dry and yellowish mass in front of his eyes and asked him: "What does it look like to you?" José Arcadio answered sincerely:

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"Dog shit."

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His father gave him a blow with the back of his hand that brought out blood and tears. That night Pilar Ternera put arnica compresses on the swelling, feeling about for the bottle and cotton in the dark, and she did everything she wanted with him as long as it did not bother him, making an effort to love him without hurting him. They reached such a state of intimacy that later, without realizing it, they were whispering to each other.

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"I want to be alone with you," he said. "One these days I’m going to tell everybody we can stop all of this sneaking around."

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She did not try to calm him down.

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"That would be fine," she said "If we’re alone, we’ll leave the lamp lighted so that we can see each other, and I can holler as much as I want without anybody’s having to butt in, and you can whisper in my ear any crap you can think of."

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That conversation, the biting rancor that he felt against his father, and the imminent possibility of wild love inspired a serene courage in him. In a spontaneous way, without any preparation, he told everything to his brother.

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At first young Aureliano understood only the risk, the immense possibility danger that his brother’s adventures implied, and he could not understand the fascination of the subject. Little by little he became contaminated with the anxiety. He wondered about the details of the dangers, he identified himself with the suffering and enjoyment of his brother, he felt frightened and happy. He would stay awake waiting for him until dawn in the solitary bed that seemed to have a bottom of live coals, they would keep on talking until it was time to get up, so that both of them soon suffered from the same drowsiness, felt the same lack of interest in alchemy and the wisdom of their father, and they took refuge in solitude. "Those kids are out of their heads," úrsula said. "They must have worms." She prepared a repugnant potion for them made out of mashed wormseed, which they both drank with unforeseen stoicism, and they sat down at the same time on their pots eleven times in a single day, expelling some rosecolored parasites that they showed to everybody with great jubilation, for it allowed them to deceive úrsula as to the origin of their distractions and drowsiness. Aureliano not only understood by then, he also lived his brother’s experiences as something of his own, for on one occasion when the latter was explaining in great detail the mechanism of love, he interrupted him to ask: "What does it feel like?" José Arcadio gave an immediate reply:

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"It’s like an earthquake."

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One January Thursday at two o’clock in the morning, Amaranta was born. Before anyone came into the room, úrsula examined her carefully. She was light and watery, like a newt, but all of her parts were human: Aureliano did not notice the new thing except when the house became full of people. Protected by the confusion, he went off in search of his brother, who had not been in bed since eleven o’clock, it was such an impulsive decision that he did not even have time to ask himself how he could get him out of Pilar Ternera’s bedroom. He circled the house for several hours, whistling private calls, until the proximity of dawn forced him to go home. In his mother’s room, playing with the newborn little sister and with a face that drooped with innocence, he found José Arcadio.

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úrsula was barely over her forty days’ rest when the gypsies returned. They were the same acrobats and jugglers that had brought the ice. Unlike Melquíades’ tribe, they had shown very quickly that they were not heralds of progress but purveyors of amusement. Even when they brought the ice they did not advertise it for its usefulness in the life of man but as a simple circus curiosity. This time, along with many other artifices, they brought a flying carpet. But they did not offer it as a fundamental contribution to the development of transport, rather as an object of recreation. The people at once dug up their last gold pieces to take advantage of a quick flight over the houses of the village. Protected by the delightful cover of collective disorder, José Arcadio and Pilar passed many relaxing hours. They were two happy lovers among the crowd, and they even came to suspect that love could be a feeling that was more relaxing and deep than the happiness, wild but momentary, of their secret nights. Pilar, however, broke the spell. Stimulated by the enthusiasm that José Arcadio showed in her companionship, she confused the form and the occasion, and all of a sudden she threw the whole world on top of him. "Now you really are a man," she told him. And since he did not understand what she meant, she spelled it out to him.

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"You’re going to be a father."

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José Arcadio did not dare leave the house for several days. It was enough for him to hear the rocking laughter of Pilar in the kitchen to run and take refuge in the laboratory, where the artifacts of alchemy had come alive again with úrsula’s blessing. José Arcadio Buendía received his errant son with joy and initiated him in the search for the philosopher’s stone, which he had finally undertaken. One afternoon the boys grew enthusiastic over the flying carpet that went swiftly by the laboratory at window level carrying the gypsy who was driving it and several children from the village who were merrily waving their hands, but José Arcadio Buendía did not even look at it. "Let them dream," he said. "We’ll do better flying than they are doing, and with more scientific resources than a miserable bedspread." In spite of his feigned interest, José Arcadio must understood the powers of the philosopher’s egg, which to him looked like a poorly blown bottle. He did not succeed in escaping from his worries. He lost his appetite and he could not sleep. He fell into an ill humor, the same as his father’s over the failure of his undertakings, and such was his upset that José Arcadio Buendía himself relieved him of his duties in the laboratory, thinking that he had taken alchemy too much to heart. Aureliano, of course, understood that his brother’s affliction did not have its source in the search for the philosopher’s stone but he could not get into his confidence. He had lost his former spontaneity. From an accomplice and a communicative person he had become withdrawn and hostile. Anxious for solitude, bitten by a virulent rancor against the world, one night he left his bed as usual, but he did not go to Pilar Ternera’s house, but to mingle is the tumult of the fair. After wandering about among all kinds of contraptions with out becoming interested in any of them, he spotted something that was not a part of it all: a very young gypsy girl, almost a child, who was weighted down by beads was the most beautiful woman that José Arcadio had ever seen in his life. She was in the crowd that was witnessing the sad spectacle of the man who had been turned into a snake for having disobeyed his parents.

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José Arcadio paid no attention. While the sad interrogation of the snakeman was taking place, he made his way through the crowd up to the front row, where the gypsy girl was, and he stooped behind her. He pressed against her back. The girl tried to separate herself, but José Arcadio pressed more strongly against her back. Then she felt him. She remained motionless against him, trembling with surprise and fear, unable to believe the evidence, and finally she turned her head and looked at him with a tremulous smile. At that instant two gypsies put the snakeman into his cage and carried him into the tent. The gypsy who was conducting the show announced:

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"And now, ladies and gentlemen, we are going to show the terrible test of the woman who must have head chopped off every night at this time for one hundred and fifty years as punishment for having seen what she should not have."

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José Arcadio and the gypsy girl did not witness the decapitation. They went to her tent, where they kissed each other with a desperate anxiety while they took off their clothes. The gypsy girl removed the starched lace corsets she had on and there she was, changed into practically nothing. She was a languid little frog, with incipient breasts and legs so thin that they did not even match the size of José Arcadio’s arms, but she had a decision and a warmth that compensated for her fragility. Nevertheless, José Arcadio could not respond to her because they were in a kind of public tent where the gypsies passed through with their circus things and did their business, and would even tarry by the bed for a game dice. The lamp hanging from the center pole lighted the whole place up. During a pause in the caresses, José Arcadio stretched out naked on the bed without knowing what to do, while the girl tried to inspire him. A gypsy woman with splendid flesh came in a short time after accompanied by a man who was not of the caravan but who was not from the village either, they both began to undress in front of the bed. Without meaning to, the woman looked at José Arcadio and examined his magnificent animal in repose with a kind of pathetic fervor.

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"My boy," she exclaimed, "may God preserve you just as you are."

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José Arcadio’s companion asked them to leave them alone, and the couple lay down on the ground, close to the bed. The passion of the others woke up José Arcadio’s fervor. On the first contact the bones of the girl seemed to become disjointed with a disorderly crunch like the sound of a box of dominoes, and her skin broke out into a pale sweat and her eyes filled with tears as her whole body exhaled a lugubrious lament and a vague smell of mud. But she bore the impact with a firmness of character and a bravery that were admirable. José Arcadio felt himself lifted up into the air toward a state of seraphic inspiration, where his heart burst forth with an outpouring of tender obscenities that entered the girl through her ears and came out of her mouth translated into her language. It was Thursday. On Saturday night, José Arcadio wrapped a red cloth around his head and left with the gypsies.

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When úrsula discovered his absence she searched for him all through the village. In the remains of the gypsy camp there was nothing but a garbage pit among the still smoking ashes of the extinguished campfires. Someone who was there looking for beads among the trash told úrsula that the night before he had seen her son in the tumult of the caravan pushing the snakeman’s cage on a cart. "He’s become a gypsy" she shouted to her husband, who had not shown the slightest sign of alarm over the disappearance.

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"I hope it’s true," José Arcadio Buendía said, grinding in his mortar the material that had been ground a thousand times and reheated and ground again. "That way he’ll learn to be a man." úrsula asked where the gypsies had gone. She went along asking and following the road she had been shown, thinking that she still had time to catch up to them. She kept getting farther away from the village until she felt so far away that she did not think about returning. José Arcadio Buendía did not discover that his wife was missing until eight o’clock at night, when he left the material warming in a bed of manure and went to see what was wrong with little Amaranta, who was getting hoarse from crying. In a few hours he gathered a group of well-equipped men, put Amaranta in the hands a woman who offered to nurse her, and was lost on invisible paths in pursuit of úrsula. Aureliano went with them. Some Indian fishermen, whose language they could not understand, told them with signs that they had not seen anyone pass. After three days of useless searching they returned to the village.

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For several weeks José Arcadio Buendía let himself be overcome by consternation. He took care of little Amaranta like a mother. He bathed and dressed her, took her to be nursed four times a day, and even sang to her at night the songs that úrsula never knew how to sing. On a certain occasion Pilar Ternera volunteered to do the household chores until úrsula came back. Aureliano, whose mysterious intuition had become sharpened with the misfortune, felt a glow of clairvoyance when he saw her come in. Then he knew that in some inexplicable way she was to blame for his brother’s flight and the consequent disappearance his mother, and he harassed her with a silent and implacable hostility in such a way that the woman did not return to the house.

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Time put things in their place. José Arcadio Buendía and his son did not know exactly when they returned to the laboratory, dusting things, lighting the water pipe, involved once more in the patient manipulation of the material that had been sleeping for several months in its bed of manure. Even Amaranta, lying in a wicker basket, observed with curiosity the absorbing work of her father and her brother in the small room where the air was rarefied by mercury vapors. On a certain occasion, months after úrsula’s departure, strange things began to happen. An empty flask that had been forgotten in a cupboard for a long time became so heavy that it could not be moved. A pan of water on the worktable boiled without any fire under it for a half hour until it completely evaporated. José Arcadio Buendía and his son observed those phenomena with startled excitement, unable to explain them but interpreting them as predictions of the material. One day Amaranta’s basket began to move by itself and made a complete turn about the room, to the consternation of Auerliano, who hurried to stop it. But his father did not get upset. He put the basket in its place and tied it to the leg of a table, convinced that the longawaited event was imminent. It was on that occasion that Auerliano heard him say:

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"If you don’t fear God, fear him through the metals.

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Suddenly, almost five months after her disappearance, úrsula came back. She arrived exalted, rejuvenated, with new clothes in a style that was unknown in the village. José Arcadio Buendía could barely stand up under the impact. "That was it!" he shouted. "I knew it was going to happen." he really believed it, for during his prolonged imprisonment as he manipulated the material, he begged in the depth of his heart that the longed-for miracle should not be the discovery of the philosopher’s stone, or the freeing of the breath that makes metals live, or the faculty to convert the hinges and the locks of the house into gold, but what had just happened: úrsula’s return. But she did not share his excitement. She gave him a conventional kiss, as if she had been away only an hour, and she told him:

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"Look out the door."

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José Arcadio Buendía took a long time to get out of his perplexity when he went out into the street and saw the crowd. They were not gypsies. They were men and women like them, with straight hair and dark skin, who spoke the same language and complained the same pains. They had mules loaded down with things to eat, oxcarts with furniture and domestic utensils, pure and simple earthly accessories put on sale without any fuss by peddlers of everyday reality. They came from the other side of the swamp, only two days away, where there were towns that received mail every month in the year where they were familiar with the implements of good living. úrsula had not caught up with the gypsies, but she had found the route that her husband had been unable to discover in his frustrated search for the great inventions.

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