百年孤独(英文版)-第7部分

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at　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　？rsula’s　gold　from　the　debris　that　was　stuck　to　the　bottom　of　the　pot。　Young　Jos？Arcadio　scarcely　took　part　in　the　process。　While　his　father　was　involved　body　and　soul　with　his　water　pipe；　the　willful　firstborn；　who　had　always　been　too　big　for　his　age；　had　bee　a　monumental　adolescent。　His　voice　had　changed。　An　incipient　fuzz　appeared　on　his　upper　lip。　One　night；　as　？rsula　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　wellequipped　for　life　that　he　seemed　abnormal。　？rsula；　pregnant　for　the　third　time；　relived　her　newlywed　terror。
　　　Around　that　time　a　merry；　foulmouthed；　provocative　woman　came　to　the　house　to　help　with　the　chorea；　and　she　knew　how　to　read　the　future　in　cards。　？rsula　spoke　to　her　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　Jos？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　her　hand　and　touched　him。　“Lordy！？she　said；　sincerely　startled；　and　that　was　all　she　could　say。　Jos？Arcadio　felt　his　bones　filling　up　with　foam；　a　languid　fear；　and　a　terrible　desire　to　weep。　The　woman　made　no　insinuations。　But　Jos？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；　and　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　unprehendingly　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。
　　　Days　later　the　woman　suddenly　called　him　to　her　house；　where　she　was　alone　with　her　mother；　and　she　had　him　e　into　the　bedroom　with　the　pretext　of　showing　him　a　deck　of　cards。　Then　she　touched　him　with　such　freedom　that　he　suffered　a　delusion　after　the　initial　shudder；　and　he　felt　more　fear　than　pleasure。　She　asked　him　to　e　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。　With　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　with　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　pletely　disoriented。　Sleeping　in　the　narrow　room　were　the　mother；　another　daughter　with　her　husband　and　two　children；　and　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　？rsula；　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。
　　　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　twentytwo；　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　bee　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；　Jos？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　？rsula’s　gold。
　　　They　had　succeeded；　as　a　matter　of　fact；　after　putting　in　plicated　and　persevering　days　at　it。　？rsula　was　happy；　and　she　even　gave　thanks　to　God　for　the　invention　of　alchemy；　while