百年孤独(英文版)-第68部分

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t　her。
　　　Six　months　after　he　had　buried　the　hen；　Aureliano　Segundo　woke　up　at　midnight　with　an　attack　of　coughing　and　the　feeling　that　he　was　being　strangled　within　by　the　claws　of　a　crab。　It　was　then　that　he　understood　that　for　all　of　the　magical　pessaries　that　he　destroyed　and　all　the　conjuring　hens　that　he　soaked；　the　single　and　sad　piece　of　truth　was　that　he　was　dying。　He　did　not　tell　anyone。　Tormented　by　the　fear　of　dying　without　having　sent　Amaranta　？rsula　to　Brussels；　he　worked　as　he　had　never　done；　and　instead　of　one　he　made　three　weekly　raffles。　From　very　early　in　the　morning　he　could　be　seen　going　through　the　town；　even　in　the　most　outlying　and　miserable　sections；　trying　to　sell　tickets　with　an　anxiety　that　could　only　be　conceivable　in　a　dying　man。　“Here’s　Divine　Providence；？he　hawked。　“Don’t　let　it　get　away；　because　it　only　es　every　hundred　years。？He　made　pitiful　efforts　to　appear　gay；　pleasant；　talkative；　but　it　was　enough　to　see　his　sweat　and　paleness　to　know　that　his　heart　was　not　in　it。　Sometimes　he　would　go　to　vacant　lots；　where　no　one　could　see　him；　and　sit　down　to　rest　from　the　claws　that　were　tearing　him　apart　inside。　Even　at　midnight　he　would　be　in　the　red…light　district　trying　to　console　with　predictions　of　good　luck　the　lonely　women　who　were　weeping　beside　their　phonographs。　“This　number　hasn’t　e　up　in　four　months；？he　told　them；　showing　them　the　tickets。　“Don’t　let　it　get　away；　life　is　shorter　than　you　think。？They　finally　lost　respect　for　him；　made　fun　of　him；　and　in　his　last　months　they　no　longer　called　him　Don　Aureliano；　as　they　had　always　done；　but　they　called　him　Mr。　Divine　Providence　right　to　his　face。　His　voice　was　being　filled　with　wrong　notes。　It　was　getting　out　of　tune；　and　it　finally　diminished　into　the　growl　of　a　dog；　but　he　still　had　the　drive　to　see　that　there　should　be　no　diminishing　of　the　hope　people　brought　to　Petra　Cates’s　courtyard。　As　he　lost　his　voice；　however；　and　realized　that　in　a　short　time　he　would　be　unable　to　bear　the　pain；　he　began　to　understand　that　it　was　not　through　raffled　pigs　and　goats　that　his　daughter　would　get　to　Brussels；　so　he　conceived　the　idea　of　organizing　the　fabulous　raffle　of　the　lands　destroyed　by　the　deluge；　which　could　easily　be　restored　by　a　person　with　the　money　to　do　so。　It　was　such　a　spectacular　undertaking　that　the　mayor　himself　lent　his　aid　by　announcing　it　in　a　proclamation；　and　associations　were　formed　to　buy　tickets　at　one　hundred　pesos　apiece　and　they　were　sold　out　in　less　than　a　week。　The　night　of　the　raffle　the　winners　held　a　huge　celebration；　parable　only　to　those　of　the　good　days　of　the　banana　pany；　and　Aureliano　Segundo；　for　the　last　time；　played　the　forgotten　songs　of　Francisco　the　Man　on　the　accordion；　but　he　could　no　longer　sing　them。
　　　Two　months　later　Amaranta　？rsula　went　to　Brussels。　Aureliano　Segundo　gave　her　not　only　the　money　from　the　special　raffle；　but　also　what　he　had　managed　to　put　aside　over　the　previous　months　and　what　little　he　had　received　from　the　sale　of　the　pianola；　the　clavichord；　and　other　junk　that　had　fallen　into　disrepair。　　According　to　his　calculations；　that　sum　would　be　enough　for　her　studies；　so　that　all　that　was　lacking　was　the　price　of　her　fare　back　home。　Fernanda　was　against　the　trip　until　the　last　moment；　scandalized　by　the　idea　that　Brussels　was　so　close　to　Paris　and　its　perdition；　but　she　calmed　down　with　the　letter　that　Father　Angel　gave　her　addressed　to　a　boardinghouse　run　by　nuns　for　Catholic　young　ladies　where　Amaranta　？rsula　promised　to　stay　until　her　studies　were　pleted。　Furthermore；　the　parish　priest　arranged　for　her　to　travel　under　the　care　of　a　group　of　Franciscan　nuns　who　were　going　to　Toledo；　where　they　hoped　to　find　dependable　people　to　acpany　her　to　Belgium。　While　the　urgent　correspondence　that　made　the　coordination　possible　went　forward；　Aureliano　Segundo；　aided　by　Petra　Cates；　prepared　Amaranta　？rsula’s　baggage。　The　night　on　which　they　were　packing　one　of　Fernanda’s　bridal　trunks；　the　things　were　so　well　organized　that　the　schoolgirl　knew　by　heart　which　were　the　suits　and　cloth　slippers　she　could　wear　crossing　the　Atlantic　and　the　blue　cloth　coat　with　copper　buttons　and　the　cordovan　shoes　she　would　wear　when　she　landed。　She　also　knew　how　to　walk　so　as　not　to　fall　into　the　water　as　she　went　up　the　gangplank；　that　at　no　time　was　she　to　leave　the　pany　of　the　nuns　or　leave　her　cabin　except　to　eat；　and　that　for　no　reason　was　she　to　answer　the　questions　asked　by　people　of　any　sex　while　they　were　at　sea。　She　carried　a　small　bottle　with　drops　for　seasickness　and　a　notebook　written　by　Father　Angel　in　his　own　hand　containing　six　prayers　to　be　used　against　storms。　Fernanda　made　her　a　canvas　belt　to　keep　her　money　in；　and　she　would　not　have　to　take　it　off　even　to　sleep。　She　tried　to　give　her　the　chamberpot；　washed　out　with　lye　and　disinfected　with　alcohol；　but　Amaranta　？rsula　refused　it　for　fear　that　her　schoolmates　would　make　fun　of　her。　A　few　months　later；　at　the　hour　of　his　death；　Aureliano　Segundo　would　remember　her　as　he　had　seen　her　for　the　last　time　as　she　tried　unsuccessfully　to　lower　the　window　of　the　second…class　coach　to　hear　Fernanda’s　last　piece　of　advice。　She　was　wearing　a　pink　silk　dress　with　a　corsage　of　artificial　pansies　pinned　to　her　left　shoulder；　her　cordovan　shoes　with　buckles　and　low　heels；　and　sateen　stockings　held　up　at　the　thighs　with　elastic　garters。　Her　body　was　slim；　her　hair　loose　and　long；　and　she　had　the　lively　eyes　that　？rsula　had　had　at　her　age　and　the　way　in　which　she　said　good…bye；　without　crying　but　without　smiling　either；　revealed　the　same　strength　of　character。　Walking　beside　the　coach　as　it　picked　up　speed　and　holding　Fernanda　by　the　arm　so　that　she　would　not　stumble；　Aureliano　scarcely　had　time　to　wave　at　his　daughter　as　she　threw　him　a　kiss　with　the　tips　of　her　fingers。　The　couple　stood　motionless　under　the　scorching　sun；　looking　at　the　train　as　it　merged　with　the　black　strip　of　the　horizon；　linking　arms　for　the　first　time　since　the　day　of　their　wedding。
　　　On　the　ninth　of　August；　before　they　received　the　first　letter　from　Brussels；　Jos？Arcadio　Segundo　was　speaking　to　Aureliano　in　Melquíades？room　and；　without　realizing　it；　he　said：
　　　“Always　remember　that　they　were　more　than　three　thousand　and　that　they　were　thrown　into　the　sea。？
　　　Then　he　fell　back　on　the　parchments　and　died　with　his　eyes　open。　At　that　same　instant；　in　Fernanda’s　bed；　his　twin　brother　came　to　the　end　of　the　prolonged　and　terrible　martyrdom　of　the　steel　crabs　that　were　eating　his　throat　away。　One　week　previously　he　had　returned　home；　without　any　voice；　unable　to　breathe；　and　almost　skin　and　bones；　with　his　wandering　trunks　and　his　wastrel’s　accordion；　to　fulfill　the　promise　of　dying　beside　his　wife。　Petra　Cotes　helped　him　pack　his　clothes　and　bade　him　farewell　without　shedding　a　tear；　but　she　forgot　to　give　him　the　patent　leather　shoes　that　he　wanted　to　wear　in　his　coffin。　So　when　she　heard　that　he　had　died；　she　dressed　in　black；　wrapped　the　shoes　up　in　a　newspaper；　and　asked　Fernanda　for　permission　to　see　the　body。　Fernanda　would　not　let　her　through　the　door。
　　　“Put　yourself　in　my　place；？Petra　Cotes　begged。　“Imagine　how　much　I　must　have　loved　him　to　put　up　with　this　humiliation。？
　　　“There　is　no　humiliation　that　a　concubine　does　not　deserve；？Fernanda　replied。　“So　wait　until　another　one　of　your　men　dies　and　put　the　shoes　on　him。？
　　　In　fulfillment　of　her　promise；　Santa　Sofía　de　la　Piedad　cut　the　throat　of　Jos？Arcadio　Segundo’s　corpse　with　a　kitchen　knife　to　be　sure　that　they　would　not　bury　him　alive。　The　bodies　were　placed　in　identical　coffins；　and　then　it　could　be　seen　that　once　more　in　death　they　had　bee　as　Identical　as　they　had　been　until　adolescence。　Aureliano　Segundo’s　old　carousing　rades　laid　on　his　casket　a　wreath　that　had　a　purple　ribbon　with　the　words：　Cease；　cows；　life　is　short。　Fernanda　was　so　indignant　with　such　irreverence　that　she　had　the　wreath　thrown　onto　the　trash　heap。　In　the　tumult　of　the　last　moment；　the　sad　drunkards　who　carried　them　out　of　the　house　got　the　coffins　mixed　up　and　buried　them　in　the　wrong　graves。

Chapter　18
AURELIANO　DID　NOT　leave　Melquíades？room　for　a　long　time。　He　learned　by　heart　the　fantastic　legends　of　the　crumbling　books；　the　synthesis　of　the　studies　of　Hermann　the　Cripple；　the　notes　on　the　science　of　demonology；　the　keys　to　the　philosopher’s　stone；　the　Centuries　of　Nostradamus　and　his　research　concerning　the　plague；　so　that　he　reached　adolescence　without　knowing　a　thing　about　his　own　time　but　with　the　basic　knowledge　of　a　medieval　man。　Any　time　that　Santa　Sofía　de　la　Piedad　would　go　into　his　room　she　would　find　him　absorbed　in　his　reading。　At　dawn　she　would　bring　him　a　mug　of　coffee　without　sugar　and　at　noon　a　plate　of　rice　and　slices　of　fried　plantain；　which　were　the　only　things　eaten　in　the　house　since　the　death　of　Aureliano　Segundo。　She　saw　that　his　hair　was　cut；　picked　off　the　nits；　took　in　to　his　size　the　old　clothing　that　she　found　in　forgotten　trunks；　and　when　his　mustache　began　to　appear　the　brought　him　Colonel　Aureliano　Buendía’s　razor　and　the　small　gourd　he　had　used　as　a　shaving　mug。　None　of　the　latter’s　children　had　looked　so　much　like　him；　not　even　Aureliano　Jos？　particularly　in　respect　to　the　prominent　cheekbones　and　the　firm　and　rather　pitiless　line　of　the　lips。　As　had　happened　to　？rsula　with　Aureliano　Segundo　when　the　latter　was　studying　in　the　room；　Santa　Sofía　de　la　Piedad　thought　that　Aureliano　was　talking　to　himself。　Actually；　he　was　talking　to　Melquíades。　One　burning　noon；　a　short　time　after　the　death　of　the　twins；　against　the　light　of　the　window　he　saw　the　gloomy　old　man　with　his　crow’s…wing　hat　like　the　materialization　of　a　memory　that　had　been　in　his　head　since　long　before　he　was　born。　Aureliano　had　finished　classifying　the　alphabet　of　the　parchments；　so　that　when　Melquíades　asked　him　if　he　had　discovered　the　language　in　which　they　had　been　written　he　did　not　hesitate　to　answer。
　　　“Sanskrit；？he　said。
　　　Melquíades　revealed　to　him　that　his　opportunities　to　return　to　the　room　were　limited。　But　he　would　go　in　peace　to　the　meadows　of　the　ultimate　death　because　Aureliano　would　have　time　to　learn　Sanskrit　during　the　years　remaining　until　the　parchments　became　one　hundred　years　old；　when　they　could　be