百年孤独(英文版)-第49部分

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ned　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。
　　　In　that　hidden　village　there　was　a　native…born　tobacco　planter　who　had　lived　there　for　some　time；　Don　Jos？Arcadio　Buendía；　with　whom　？rsula’s　great…great…grandfather　established　a　partnership　that　was　so　lucrative　that　within　a　few　years　they　made　a　fortune。　Several　centuries　later　the　great…great…grandson　of　the　native…born　planter　married　the　great…great…granddaughter　of　the　Aragonese。　Therefore；　every　time　that　？rsula　became　exercised　over　her　husband’s　mad　ideas；　she　would　leap　back　over　three　hundred　years　of　fate　and　curse　the　day　that　Sir　Francis　Drake　had　attacked　Riohacha。　It　was　simply　a　way。　of　giving　herself　some　relief；　because　actually　they　were　joined　till　death　by　a　bond　that　was　more　solid　that　love：　a　mon　prick　of　conscience。　They　were　cousins。　They　had　grown　up　together　in　the　old　village　that　both　of　their　ancestors；　with　their　work　and　their　good　habits；　had　transformed　into　one　of　the　finest　towns　in　the　province。　Although　their　marriage　was　predicted　from　the　time　they　had　e　into　the　world；　when　they　expressed　their　desire　to　be　married　their　own　relatives　tried　to　stop　it。　They　were　afraid　that　those　two　healthy　products　of　two　races　that　had　interbred　over　the　centuries　would　suffer　the　shame　of　breeding　iguanas。　There　had　already　been　a　horrible　precedent。　An　aunt　of　？rsula’s；　married　to　an　uncle　of　Jos？Arcadio　Buendía；　had　a　son　who　went　through　life　wearing　loose；　baggy　trousers　and　who　bled　to　death　after　having　lived　forty…two　years　in　the　purest　state　of　virginity；　for　he　had　been　born　and　had　grown　up　with　a　cartilaginous　tail　in　the　shape　of　a　corkscrew　and　with　a　small　tuft　of　hair　on　the　tip。　A　pig’s　tail　that　was　never　allowed　to　be　seen　by　any　woman　and　that　cost　him　his　life　when　a　butcher　friend　did　him　the　favor　of　chopping　it　off　with　his　cleaver。　Jos？Arcadio　Buendía；　with　the　whimsy　of　his　nineteen　years；　resolved　the　problem　with　a　single　phrase：　“I　don’t　care　if　I　have　piglets　as　long　as　they　can　talk。？So　they　were　married　amidst　a　festival　of　fireworks　and　a　brass　band　that　went　on　for　three　days。　They　would　have　been　happy　from　then　on　if　？rsula’s　mother　had　not　terrified　her　with　all　manner　of　sinister　predictions　about　their　offspring；　even　to　the　extreme　of　advising　her　to　refuse　to　consummate　the　marriage。　Fearing　that　her　stout　and　willful　husband　would　rape　her　while　she　slept；　？rsula；　before　going　to　bed；　would　put　on　a　rudimentary　kind　of　drawers　that　her　mother　had　made　out　of　sailcloth　and　had　reinforced　with　a　system　of　crisscrossed　leather　straps　and　that　was　closed　in　the　front　by　a　thick　iron　buckle。　That　was　how　they　lived　for　several　months。　During　the　day　he　would　take　care　of　his　fighting　cocks　and　she　would　do　frame　embroidery　with　her　mother。　At　night　they　would　wrestle　for　several　hours　in　an　anguished　violence　that　seemed　to　be　a　substitute　for　the　act　of　love；　until　popular　intuition　got　a　whiff　of　something　irregular　and　the　rumor　spread　that　？rsula　was　still　a　virgin　a　year　after　her　marriage　because　her　husband　was　impotent。　Jos？Arcadio　Buendía　was　the　last　one　to　hear　the　rumor。
　　　“Look　at　what　people　are　going　around　saying；　？rsula；？he　told　his　wife　very　calmly。
　　　“Let　them　talk；？she　said。　“We　know　that　it’s　not　true。？
　　　So　the　situation　went　on　the　same　way　for　another　six　months　until　that　tragic　Sunday　when　Jos？Arcadio　Buendía　won　a　cockfight　from　Prudencio　Aguilar。　Furious；　aroused　by　the　blood　of　his　bird；　the　loser　backed　away　from　Jos？Arcadio　Buendía　so　that　everyone　in　the　cockpit　could　hear　what　he　was　going　to　tell　him。
　　　“Congratulations！？he　shouted。　“Maybe　that　rooster　of　yours　can　do　your　wife　a　favor。？
　　　Jos？Arcadio　Buendía　serenely　picked　up　his　rooster。　“I’ll　be　right　back；？he　told　everyone。　And　then　to　Prudencio　Aguilar：
　　　“You　go　home　and　get　a　weapon；　because　I’m　going　to　kill　you。？
　　　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。　Jos？Arcadio　Buendía’s　spear；　thrown　with　the　strength　of　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；　Jos？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。？？rsula　had　no　doubt　about　her　husband’s　decision。　“You’ll　be　responsible　for　what　happens；？she　murmured。　Jos？Arcadio　Buendía　stuck　the　spear　into　the　dirt　floor。
　　　“If　you　bear　iguanas；　we’ll　raise　iguanas；？he　said。　“But　there’ll　be　no　more　killings　in　this　town　because　of　you。？
　　　It　was　a　fine　June　night；　cool　and　with　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。
　　　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；　？rsula　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　of　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　stand　the　weight　of　our　conscience。？Two　nights　later　？rsula　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。　Jos？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。
　　　“You　go　to　hell；？Jos？Arcadio　Buendía　shouted　at　him。　“Just　as　many　times　as　you　e　back；　I’ll　kill　you　again。？
　　　Prudencio　Aguilar　did　not　go　away；　nor　did　Jos？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　？rsula。　“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；　Jos？Anedio　Buendía　could　no　longer　resist。
　　　“It’s　all　right；　Prudencio；？he　told　him。　“We’re　going　to　leave　this　town；　just　as　far　away　as　we　can　go；　and　we’ll　never　e　back。　Go　in　peace　now。？
　　　That　was　how　they　undertook　the　crossing　of　the　mountains。　Several　friends　of　Jos？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；　Jos？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　？rsula　took　along　were　a　trunk　with　her　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；　？rsula　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　shipwrecked　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。　Jos？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。
　　　Jos？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　mon　material　as　water　and　with　them　build　the　new　houses　of　the　village。　Maco