百年孤独(英文版)-第31部分
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ed then for the first time。 “And what will you do？？she asked。 General Moncada had asked himself that same question many times。
“The same as he； my friend；？he answered。 “I’ll do my duty。？
At dawn on the first of October Colonel Aureliano Buendía attacked Macondo with a thousand well…armed men and the garrison received orders to resist to the end。 At noon； while General Moncada was lunching with ？rsula； a rebel cannon shot that echoed in the whole town blew the front of the municipal treasury to dust。 “They’re as well armed as we are；？General Moncada sighed； “but besides that they’re fighting because they want to。？At two o’clock in the afternoon； while the earth trembled with the artillery fire from both sides； he took leave of ？rsula with the certainty that he was fighting a losing battle。
“I pray to God that you won’t have Aureliano in the house tonight；？he said。 “If it does happen that way； give him an embrace for me； because I don’t expect ever to see him again。？
That night he was captured when he tried to escape from Macondo； after writing a long letter to Colonel Aureliano Buendía in which he reminded him of their mon aim to humanize the war and he wished him a final victory over the corruption of the militarists and the ambitions of the politicians in both parties。 On the following day Colonel Aureliano Buendía had lunch with him in ？rsula’s house； where he was being held until a revolutionary court…martial decided his fate。 It was a friendly gathering。 But while the adversaries forgot the war to remember things of the past； ？rsula had the gloomy feeling that her son was an intruder。 She had felt it ever since she saw him e in protected by a noisy military retinue； which turned the bedrooms inside out until they were convinced there was no danger。 Colonel Aureliano Buendía not only accepted it but he gave strict orders that no one should e closer than ten feet； not even ？rsula； while the members of his escort finished placing guards about the house。 He was wearing an ordinary denim uniform with no insignia of any kind and high boots with spurs that were caked with mud and dried blood。 On his waist he wore a holster with the flap open and his hand； which was always on the butt of the pistol； revealed the same watchful and resolute tension as his look。 His head； with deep recessions in the hairline now； seemed to have been baked in a slow oven。 His face； tanned by the salt of the Caribbean； had acquired a metallic hardness。 He was preserved against imminent old age by a vitality that had something to do with the coldness of his insides。 He was taller than when he had left； paler and bonier； and he showed the first symptoms of resistance to nostalgia。 “Good Lord；？？rsula said to herself。 “Now he looks like a man capable of anything。？He was。 The Aztec shawl that he brought Amaranta； the remembrances he spoke of at lunch； the funny stories her told were simple leftovers from his humor of a different time。 As soon as the order to bury the dead in a mon grave was carried out； he assigned Colonel Roque Carnicero the minion of setting up courts…martial and he went ahead with the exhausting task of imposing radical reforms which would not leave a stone of the reestablished Conservative regime in place。 “We have to get ahead of the politicians in the party；？he said to his aides。 “When they open their eyes to reality they’ll find acplished facts。？It was then that he decided to review the titles to land that went back a hundred years and he discovered the legalized outrages of his brother； Jos？Arcadio。 He annulled the registrations with a stroke of the pen。 As a last gesture of courtesy； he left his affairs for an hour and visited Rebeca to bring her up to date on what he was determined to do。
In the shadows of her house； the solitary widow who at one time had been the confidante of his repressed loves and whose persistence had saved his life was a specter out of the past。 Encased in black down to her knuckles； with her heart turned to ash； she scarcely knew anything about the war。 Colonel Aureliano Buendía had the impression that the phosphorescence of her bones was showing through her skin and that she moved in an atmosphere of Saint Elmo’s fire； in a stagnant air where one could still note a hidden smell of gunpowder。 He began by advising her to moderate the rigor of her mourning； to ventilate the house； to forgive the world for the death of Jos？Arcadio。 But Rebeca was already beyond any vanity。 After searching for it uselessly in the taste of earth； in； the perfumed letters from Pietro Crespi； in the tempestuous bed of her husband； she had found peace in that house where memories materialized through the strength of implacable evocation and walked like human beings through the cloistered rooms； Leaning back in her wicker rocking chair； looking at Colonel Aureliano Buendía as if he were the one who looked like a ghost out of the past； Rebeca was not even upset by the news that the lands usurped by Jos？Arcadio would be returned to their rightful owners。
“Whatever you decide will be done； Aureliano；？she sighed。 “I always thought and now I have the proof that you’re a renegade。？
The revision of the deeds took place at the same time as the summary courts…martial presided over by Colonel Gerineldo Márquez； which ended with the execution of all officers of the regular army who had been taken prisoner by the revolutionaries。 The last court…martial was that of Jos？Raquel Moncada。 ？rsula intervened。 ‘”His government was the best we’ve ever had in Macondo；？she told Colonel Aureliano Buendía。 “I don’t have to tell you anything about his good heart； about his affection for us； because you know better than anyone。？Colonel Aureliano Buendía gave her a disapproving look。
“I can’t take over the job of administering justice；？he replied。 “If you have something to say； tell it to the court…martial。？
？rsula not only did that she also brought all of the mothers of the revolutionary officers who lived in Macondo to testify。 One by one the old women who had been founders of the town； several of whom had taken part in the daring crossing of the mountains； praised the virtues of General Moncada。 ？rsula was the last in line。 Her gloomy dignity； the weight of her name； the convincing vehemence of her declaration made the scale of justice hesitate for a moment。 “You have taken this horrible game very seriously and you have done well because you are doing your duty；？she told the members of the court。 “But don’t forget that as long as God gives us life we will still be mothers and no matter how revolutionary you may be； we have the right to pull down your pants and give you a whipping at the first sign of disrespect。？The court retired to deliberate as those words still echoed in the school that had been turned into a barracks。 At midnight General Jos？Raquel Moncada was sentenced to death。 Colonel Aureliano Buendía； in spite of the violent recriminations of ？rsula； refused to mute the sentence。 A short while before dawn he visited the condemned man in the room used as a cell。
“Remember； old friend；？he told him。 “I’m not shooting you。 It’s the revolution that’s shooting you。？
General Moncada did not even get up from the cot when he saw him e in。
“Go to hell； friend；？he answered。
Until that moment； ever since his return。 Colonel Aureliano Buendía had not given himself the opportunity to see him with his heart。 He was startled to see how much he had aged； how his hands shook； and the rather punctilious conformity with which he awaited death； and then he felt a great disgust with himself； which he mingled with the beginnings of pity。
“You know better than I；？he said； “that all courts…martial are farces and that you’re really paying for the crimes of other people； because this time we’re going to win the war at any price。 Wouldn’t you have done the same in my place？？
General Moncada； got up to clean his thick horn…rimmed glasses on his shirttail。 “Probably；？he said。 “But what worries me is not your shooting me； because after all； for people like us it’s a natural death。？He laid his glasses on the bed and took off his watch and chain。 “What worries me；？he went on； “is that out of so much hatred for the military； out of fighting them so much and thinking about them so much； you’ve ended up as bad as they are。 And no ideal in life is worth that much baseness。？He took off his wedding ring and the medal of the Virgin of Help and put them alongside his glasses and watch。
“At this rate；？he concluded； “you’ll not only be the most despotic and bloody dictator in our history； but you’ll shoot my dear friend ？rsula in an attempt to pacify your conscience。？
Colonel Aureliano Buendía stood there impassively。 General Moncada then gave him the glasses； medal； watch； and ring and he changed his tone。
“But I didn’t send for you to scold you；？he said。 “I wanted to ask you the favor of sending these things to my wife。？
Colonel Aureliano Buendía put them in his pockets。
“Is she still in Manaure？？
“She’s still in Manaure；？General Moncada confirmed； “in the same house behind the church where you sent the letter。？
“I’ll be glad to； Jos？Raquel；？Colonel Aureliano Buendía said。
When he went out into the blue air of the mist his face grew damp as on some other dawn in the past and only then did he realize that …he had ordered the sentence to be carried out in the courtyard and not at the cemetery wall。 The firing squad； drawn up opposite the door； paid him the honors of a head of state。
“They can bring him out now；？he ordered。
Chapter 9
COLONEL GERINELDO M？RQUEZ was the first to perceive the emptiness of the war。 In his position as civil and military leader of Macondo he would have telegraphic conversations twice a week with Colonel Aureliano Buendía。 At first those exchanges would determine the course of a flesh…and…blood war； the perfectly defined outlines of which told them at any moment the exact spot …where it was and the prediction of its future direction。 Although he never let himself be pulled into the area of confidences； not even by his closest friends； Colonel Aureliano Buendía still had at that time the familiar tone tha
