百年孤独(英文版)-第34部分
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m in theoretical labyrinths； But he succeeded in giving Macondo the atmosphere of rural peace that Colonel Aureliano； Buendía dreamed of so that he could die of old age making little gold fishes。 Although he lived in his parents？house he would have lunch at ？rsula’s two or three times a week。 He initiated Aureliano Jos？in the use of firearms； gave him early military instruction； and for several months took him to live in the barracks； with ？rsula’s consent； so that he could bee a man。 Many years before； when he was still almost a child； Gerineldo Márquez had declared his love for Amaranta。 At that time she was so illusioned with her lonely passion for Pietro Crespi that she laughed at him。 Gerineldo Márquez waited。 On a certain occasion he sent Amaranta a note from jail asking her to embroider a dozen batiste handkerchiefs with his father’s initials on them。 He sent her the money。 A week later Amaranta； brought the dozen handkerchiefs to him in jail along with the money and they spent several hours talking about the past。 “When I get out of here I’m going to marry you；？Gerineldo Márquez told her when she left。 Amaranta laughed but she kept on thinking about him while she taught the children to read and she tried to revive her juvenile passion for Pietro Crespi。 On Saturday； visiting days for the prisoners； she would stop by the house of Gerineldo Márquez’s parents and acpany them to the jail。 On one of those Saturdays ？rsula was surprised to see her in the kitchen； waiting for the biscuits to e out of the oven so that she could pick the best ones and cap them in a napkin that she had embroidered for the occasion。
“Marry him；？she told her。 “You’ll have a hard time finding another man like him。？
Amaranta feigned a reaction of displeasure。
“I don’t have to go around hunting for men；？she answered。 “I’m taking these biscuits to Gerineldo because I’m sorry that sooner or later they’re going to shoot him。？
She said it without thinking； but that was the time that the government had announced its threat to shoot Colonel Gerineldo Márquez if the rebel forces did not surrender Riohacha。 The visits stopped。 Amaranta shut herself up to weep； overwhelmed by a feeling of guilt similar to the one that had tormented her when Remedios died； as if once more her careless words had been responsible for a death。 Her mother consoled her。 She inured her that Colonel Aureliano Buendía would do something to prevent the execution and promised that she would take charge of attracting Gerineldo Márquez herself when the war was over。 She fulfilled her promise before the imagined time。 When Gerineldo Márquez returned to the house； invested with his new dignity of civil and military leader； she received him as a son； thought of delightful bits of flattery to hold him there； and prayed with all her soul that he would remember his plan to marry Amaranta。 Her pleas seemed to be answered。 On the days that he would have lunch at the house； Colonel Gerineldo Márquez would linger on the begonia porch playing Chinese checkers with Amaranta。 ？rsula would bring them coffee and milk and biscuits and would take over the children so that they would not bother them。 Amaranta was really making an effort to kindle in her heart the fotten ashes of her youthful passion。 With an anxiety that came to be intolerable； she waited for the lunch days； the afternoons of Chinese checkers； and time flew by in the pany of the warrior with a nostalgic name whose fingers trembled imperceptibly as he moved the pieces。 But the day on which Colonel Gerineldo Márquez repeated his wish to marry her； she rejected him。
“I’m not going to marry anyone；？she told him； “much less you。 You love Aureliano so much that you want to marry me because you can’t marry him。？
Colonel Gerineldo Márquez was a patient man。 “I’ll keep on insisting；？he said。 “Sooner or later I’ll convince you。？He kept on visiting the house。 Shut up in her bedroom biting back her secret tears； Amaranta put her fingers in her ears so as not to bear the voice of the suitor as he gave ？rsula the latest war news； and in spite of the fact that she was dying to see him she had the strength not to go out and meet him。
At that time Colonel Aureliano Buendía took the time to send a detailed account to Macondo every two weeks。 But only once； almost eight months after he had left； did he write to ？rsula。 A special messenger brought a sealed envelope to the house with a sheet of paper inside bearing the colonel’s delicate hand： Take good care of Papa because he is going to die。 ？rsula became alarmed。 “If Aureliano says so it’s because Aureliano knows；？she said。 And she had them help her take Jos？Arcadio Buendía to his bedroom。 Not only was he as heavy as ever； but during his prolonged stay under the chestnut tree he had developed the faculty of being able to increase his weight at will； to such a degree that seven men were unable to lift him and they had to drag him to the bed。 A smell of tender mushrooms； of woodflower fungus； of old and concentrated outdoors impregnated the air of the bedroom as it was breathed by the colossal old man weatherbeaten by the sun and the rain。 The next morning he was not in his bed。 In spite of his undiminished strength； Jos？Arcadio Buendía was in no condition to resist。 It was all the same to him。 If he went back to the chestnut tree it was not because he wanted to but because of a habit of his body。 ？rsula took care of him； fed him； brought him news of Aureliano。 But actually； the only person with whom he was able to have contact for a long time was Prudencio Aguilar。 Almost pulverized at that time by the decrepitude of death； Prudencio Aguilar would e twice a day to chat with him。 They talked about fighting cocks。 They promised each other to set up a breeding farm for magnificent birds； not so much to enjoy their victories； which they would not need then； as to have something to do on the tedious Sundays of death。 It was Prudencio Aguilar who cleaned him fed him and brought him splendid news of an unknown person called Aureliano who was a colonel in the war。 When he was alone； Jos？Arcadio Buendía consoled himself with the dream of the infinite rooms。 He dreamed that he was getting out of bed； opening the door and going into an identical room with the same bed with a wroughtiron head； the same wicker chair； and the same small picture of the Virgin of Help on the back wall。 From that room he would go into another that was just the same； the door of which would open into another that was just the same； the door of which would open into another one just the same； and then into another exactly alike； and so on to infinity。 He liked to go from room to room。 As in a gallery of parallel mirrors； until Prudencio Aguilar would touch him on the shoulder。 Then he would go back from room to room； walking in reverse； going back over his trail； and he would find Prudencio Aguilar in the room of reality。 But one night； two weeks after they took him to his bed； Prudencio Aguilar touched his shoulder in an intermediate room and he stayed there forever； thinking that it was the real room。 On the following morning ？rsula was bringing him his breakfast when she saw a man ing along the hall。 He was short and stocky； with a black suit on and a hat that was also black； enormous； pulled down to his taciturn eyes。 “Good Lord；？？rsula thought； “I could have sworn it was Melquíades。？It was Cataure； Visitación’s brother； who had left the house fleeing from the insomnia plague and of whom there had never been any news。 Visitación asked him why he had e back； and he answered her in their solemn language：
“I have e for the exequies of the king。？
Then they went into Jos？Arcadio Buendía’s room； shook him as hard as they could； shouted in his ear； put a mirror in front of his nostrils； but they could not awaken him。 A short time later； when the carpenter was taking measurements for the coffin； through the window they saw a light rain of tiny yellow flowers falling。 They fell on the town all through the night in a silent storm； and they covered the roofs and blocked the doors and smothered the animals who dept outdoors。 So many flowers fell from the sky that in the mor
