百年孤独(英文版)-第60部分

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a　was　‘embroidering　on　the　porch　with　the　begonias　？rsula　bumped　into　her。
　　　“For　heaven’s　sake；？Amaranta　protested。　“watch　where　you’re　going。？
　　　“It’s　your　fault；？？rsula　said。　“You’re　not　sitting　where　you’re　supposed　to。？
　　　She　was　sure　of　it。　But　that　day　she　began　to　realize　something　that　no　one　had　noticed　and　it　was　that　with　the　passage　of　the　year　the　sun　imperceptibly　changed　position　and　those　who　sat　on　the　porch　had　to　change　their　position　little　by　little　without　being　aware　of　it。　From　then　on　？rsula　had　only　to　remember　the　date　in　order　to　know　exactly　where　Amaranta　was　sitting。　Even　though　the　trembling　of　her　hands　was　more　and　more　noticeable　and　the　weight　of　her　feet　was　too　much　for　her；　her　small　figure　was　never　seen　in　so　many　places　at　the　same　time。　She　was　almost　as　diligent　as　when　she　had　the　whole　weight　of　the　house　on　her　shoulders。　Nevertheless；　in　the　impenetrable　solitude　of　decrepitude　she　had　such　clairvoyance　as　she　examined　the　most　insignificant　happenings　in　the　family　that　for　the　first　time　she　saw　clearly　the　truths　that　her　busy　life　in　former　times　had　prevented　her　from　seeing。　Around　the　time　they　were　preparing　Jos？Arcadio　for　the　seminary　she　had　already　made　a　detailed　recapitulation　of　life　in　the　house　since　the　founding　of　Macondo　and　had　pletely　changed　the　opinion　that　she　had　always　held　of　her　descendants。　She　realized　that　Colonel　Aureliano　Buendía　had　not　lost　his　love　for　the　family　because　he　had　been　hardened　by　the　war；　as　she　had　thought　before；　but　that　he　had　never　loved　anyone；　not　even　his　wife　Remedios　or　the　countless　onenight　women　who　had　passed　through　his　life；　and　much　less　his　sons。　She　sensed　that　he　had　fought　so　many　wars　not　out　of　idealism；　as　everyone　had　thought；　nor　had　he　renounced　a　certain　victory　because　of　fatigue；　as　everyone　had　thought；　but　that　he　had　won　and　lost　for　the　same　reason；　pure　and　sinful　pride。　She　reached　the　conclusion　that　the　son　for　whom　she　would　have　given　her　life　was　simply　a　man　incapable　of　love。　One　night　when　she　was　carrying　him　in　her　belly　she　heard　him　weeping。　It　was　such　a　definite　lament　that　Jos？Arcadio　Buendía　woke　up　beside　her　and　was　happy　with　the　idea　that　his　son　was　going　to　be　a　ventriloquist。　Other　people　predicted　that　he　would　be　a　prophet。　She；　on　the　other　hand；　shuddered　from　the　certainty　that　the　deep　moan　was　a　first　indication　of　the　fearful　pig　tail　and　she　begged　God　to　let　the　child　die　in　her　womb。　But　the　lucidity　of　her　old　age　allowed　her　to　see；　and　she　said　so　many　times；　that　the　cries　of　children　in　their　mothers？wombs　are　not　announcements　of　ventriloquism　or　a　faculty　for　prophecy　but　an　unmistakable　sign　of　an　incapacity　for　love。　The　lowering　of　the　image　of　her　son　brought　out　in　her　all　at　once　all　the　passion　that　she　owed　him。　Amaranta；　however；　whose　hardness　of　heart　frightened　her；　whose　concentrated　bitterness　made　her　bitter；　suddenly　became　clear　to　her　in　the　final　analysis　as　the　most　tender　woman　who　had　ever　existed；　and　she　understood　with　pitying　clarity　that　the　unjust　tortures　to　which　she　had　submitted　Pietro　Crespi　had　not　been　dictated　by　a　desire　for　vengeance；　as　everyone　had　thought；　nor　had　the　slow　martyrdom　with　which　she　had　frustrated　the　life　of　Colonel　Gerineldo　Márquez　been　determined　by　the　gall　of　her　bitterness；　as　everyone　had　thought；　but　that　both　actions　had　been　a　mortal　struggle　between　a　measureless　love　and　an　invincible　cowardice；　and　that　the　irrational　fear　that　Amaranta　had　always　had　of　her　own　tormented　heart　had　triumphed　in　the　end。　It　was　during　that　time　that　？rsula；　began　to　speak　Rebeca’s　name；　bringing　back　the　memory　of　her　with　an　old　love　that　was　exalted　by　tardy　repentance　and　a　sudden　admiration；　ing　to　understand　that　only　she；　Rebeca；　the　one　who　had　never　fed　of　her　milk　but　only　of　the　earth　of　the　land　and　the　whiteness　of　the　walls；　the　one　who　did　not　carry　the　blood　of　her　veins　in　hers　but　the　unknown　blood　of　the　strangers　whose　bones　were　still　clocing　in　their　grave。　Rebeca；　the　one　with　an　impatient　heart；　the　one　with　a　fierce　womb；　was　the　only　one　who　bad　the　unbridled　courage　that　？rsula　had　wanted　for　her　line。
　　　“Rebeca；？she　would　say；　feeling　along　the　walls；　“how　unfair　we’ve　been　to　you！？
　　　In　the　house　they　simply　thought　that　her　mind　was　wandering；　especially　since　the　time　she　had　begun　walking　about　with　her　right　arm　raised　like　the　Archangel　Gabriel。　Fernanda；　however；　realized　that　there　was　a　sun　of　clairvoyance　in　the　shadows　of　that　wandering；　for　？rsula　could　say　without　hesitation　how　much　money　had　been　spent　in　the　house　during　the　previous　year。　Amaranta　had　a　similar　idea　one　day　as　her　mother　was　stirring　a　pot　of　soup　in　the　kitchen　and　said　all　at　once　without　knowing　that　they　were　listening　to　her　that　the　corn　grinder　they　had　bought　from　the　first　gypsies　and　that　had　disappeared　during　the　time　before　Jos？Arcadio；　had　taken　his　sixtyfive　trips　around　the　world　was　still　in　Pilar　Ternera’s　house。　Also　almost　a　hundred　years　old；　but　fit　and　agile　in　spite　of　her　inconceivable　fatness；　which　frightened　children　as　her　laughter　had　frightened　the　doves　in　other　times；　Pilar　Ternera　was　not　surprised　that　？rsula　was　correct　because　her　own　experience　was　beginning　to　tell　her　that　an　alert　old　age　can　be　more　keen　than　the　cards。
　　　Nevertheless；　when　？rsula　realized　that　she　had　not　had　enough　time　to　consolidate　the　vocation　of　Jos？Arcadio；　she　let　herself　be　disturbed　by　consternation。　She　began　to　make　mistakes；　trying　to　see　with　her　eyes　the　things　that　intuition　allowed　her　to　see　with　greater　clarity。　One　morning　she　poured　the　contents　of　an　inkwell　over　the　boy’s　head　thinking　that　it　was　rose　water。　She　stumbled　so　much　in　her　insistence　in　taking　part　in　everything　that　she　felt　herself　upset　by　gusts　of　bad　humor　and　she　tried　to　get　rid　of　the　shadows　that　were　beginning　to　wrap　her　in　a　straitjacket　of　cobwebs。　It　was　then　that　it　occurred　to　her　that　her　clumsiness　was　not　the　first　victory　of　decrepitude　and　darkness　but　a　sentence　passed　by　time。　She　thought　that　previously；　when　God　did　not　make　the　same　traps　out　of　the　months　and　years　that　the　Turks　used　when　they　measured　a　yard　of　percale；　things　were　different。　Now　children　not　only　grew　faster；　but　even　feelings　developed　in　a　different　way。　No　sooner　had　Remedios　the　Beauty　ascended　to　heaven　in　body　and　soul　than　the　inconsiderate　Fernanda　was　going　about　mumbling　to　herself　because　her　sheets　had　been　carried　off。　The　bodies　of　the　Aurelianos　were　no　sooner　cold　in　their　graves　than　Aureliano　Segundo　had　the　house　lighted　up　again；　filled　with　drunkards　playing　the　accordion　and　dousing　themselves　in　champagne；　as　if　dogs　and　not　Christians　had　died；　and　as　if　that　madhouse　which　had　cost　her　so　many　headaches　and　so　many　candy　animals　was　destined　to　bee　a　trash　heap　of　perdition。　Remembering　those　things　as　she　prepared　Jos？Arcadio’s　trunk；　？rsula　wondered　if　it　was　not　preferable　to　lie　down　once　and　for　all　in　her　grave　and　let　them　throw　the　earth　over　her；　and　she　asked　God；　without　fear；　if　he　really　believed　that　people　were　made　of　iron　in　order　to　bear　so　many　troubles　and　mortifications；　and　asking　over　and　over　she　was　stirring　up　her　own　confusion　and　she　felt　irrepressible　desires　to　let　herself　go　and　scamper　about　like　a　foreigner　and　allow　herself　at　last　an　instant　of　rebellion；　that　instant　yearned　for　so　many　times　and　so　many　times　postponed；　putting　her　resignation　aside　and　shitting　on　everything　once　and　for　all　and　drawing　out　of　her　heart　the　infinite　stacks　of　bad　words　that　she　had　been　forced　to　swallow　over　a　century　of　conformity。
　　　“Shit！？she　shouted。
　　　Amaranta；　who　was　starting　to　put　the　clothes　into　the　trunk；　thought　that　she　had　been　bitten　by　a　scorpion。
　　　“Where　is　it？？she　asked　in　alarm。
　　　“What？？
　　　“The　bug！？Amaranta　said。
　　　？rsula　put　a　finger　on　her　heart。
　　　“Here；？she　said。
　　　On　Thursday；　at　two　in　the　afternoon；　Jos？Arcadio　left　for　the　seminary。　‘？rsula　would　remember　him　always　as　she　said　goodbye　to　him；　languid　and　serious；　without　shedding　a　tear；　as　she　had　taught　him；　sweltering　in　the