百年孤独(英文版)-第9部分
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ed to separate herself； but Jos？Arcadio pressed more strongly against her back。 Then she felt him。 She remained motionless against him； trembling with surprise and fear； unable to believe the evidence； and finally she turned her head and looked at him with a tremulous smile。 At that instant two gypsies put the snake…man into his cage and carried him into the tent。 The gypsy who was conducting the show announced：
“And now； ladies and gentlemen； we are going to show the terrible test of the woman who must have her head chopped off every night at this time for one hundred and fifty years as punishment for having seen what she should not have。？
Jos？Arcadio and the gypsy girl did not witness the decapitation。 They went to her tent； where they kissed each other with a desperate anxiety while they took off their clothes。 The gypsy girl removed the starched lace corsets she had on and there she was； changed into practically nothing。 She was a languid little frog； with incipient breasts and legs so thin that they did not even match the size of Jos？Arcadio’s arms； but she had a decision and a warmth that pensated for her fragility。 Nevertheless； Jos？Arcadio could not respond to her because they were in a kind of public tent where the gypsies passed through with their circus things and did their business； and would even tarry by the bed for a game of dice。 The lamp hanging from the center pole lighted the whole place up。 During a pause in the caresses； Jos？Arcadio stretched out naked on the bed without knowing what to do； while the girl tried to inspire him。 A gypsy woman with splendid flesh came in a short time after acpanied by a man who was not of the caravan but who was not from the village either； and they both began to undress in front of the bed。 Without meaning to； the woman looked at Jos？Arcadio and examined his magnificent animal in repose with a kind of pathetic fervor。
“My boy；？she exclaimed； “may God preserve you just as you are。？
Jos？Arcadio’s panion asked them to leave them alone； and the couple lay down on the ground； close to the bed。 The passion of the others woke up Jos？Arcadio’s fervor。 On the first contact the bones of the girl seemed to bee disjointed with a disorderly crunch like the sound of a box of dominoes； and her skin broke out into a pale sweat and her eyes filled with tears as her whole body exhaled a lugubrious lament and a vague smell of mud。 But she bore the impact with a firmness of character and a bravery that were admirable。 Jos？Arcadio felt himself lifted up into the air toward a state of seraphic inspiration； where his heart burst forth with an outpouring of tender obscenities that entered the girl through her ears and came out of her mouth translated into her language。 It was Thursday。 On Saturday night； Jos？Arcadio wrapped a red cloth around his head and left with the gypsies。
When ？rsula discovered his absence she searched for him all through the village。 In the remains of the gypsy camp there was nothing but a garbage pit among the still smoking ashes of the extinguished campfires。 Someone who was there looking for beads among the trash told ？rsula that the night before he had seen her son in the tumult of the caravan pushing the snake…man’s cage on a cart。 “He’s bee a gypsy？she shouted to her husband； who had not shown the slightest sign of alarm over the disappearance。
“I hope it’s true；？Jos？Arcadio Buendía said； grinding in his mortar the material that had been ground a thousand times and reheated and ground again。 “That way he’ll learn to be a man。？？rsula asked where the gypsies had gone。 She went along asking and following the road she had been shown； thinking that she still had time to catch up to them。 She kept getting farther away from the village until she felt so far away that she did not think about returning。 Jos？Arcadio Buendía did not discover that his wife was missing until eight o’clock at night； when he left the material warming in a bed of manure and went to see what was wrong with little Amaranta； who was getting hoarse from crying。 In a few hours he gathered a group of well…equipped men； put Amaranta in the hands of a woman who offered to nurse her； and was lost on invisible paths in pursuit of ？rsula。 Aureliano went with them。 Some Indian fishermen； whose language they could not understand； told them with signs that they had not seen anyone pass。 After three days of useless searching they returned to the village。
For several weeks Jos？Arcadio Buendía let himself be overe by consternation。 He took care of little Amaranta like a mother。 He bathed and dressed her； took her to be nursed four times a day； and even sang to her at night the songs that ？rsula never knew how to sing。 On a certain occasion Pilar Ternera volunteered to do the household chores until ？rsula came back。 Aureliano； whose mysterious intuition had bee sharpened with the misfortune； felt a glow of clairvoyance when he saw her e in。 Then he knew that in some inexplicable way she was to blame for his brother’s flight and the consequent disappearance of his mother； and he harassed her with a silent and implacable hostility in such a way that the woman did not return to the house。
Time put things in their place。 Jos？Arcadio Buendía and his son did not know exactly when they returned to the laboratory； dusting things； lighting the water pipe； involved once more in the patient manipulation of the material that had been sleeping for several months in its bed of manure。 Even Amaranta； lying in a wicker basket； observed with curiosity the absorbing work of her father and her brother in the small room where the air was rarefied by mercury vapors。 On a certain occasion； months after ？rsula’s departure； strange things began to happen。 An empty flask that had been forgotten in a cupboard for a long time became so heavy that it could not be moved。 A pan of water on the worktable boiled without any fire under it for a half hour until it pletely evaporated。 Jos？Arcadio Buendía and his son observed those phenomena with startled excitement； unable to explain them but interpreting them as predictions of the material。 One day Amaranta’s basket began to move by itself and made a plete turn about the room； to the consternation of Auerliano； who hurried to stop it。 But his father did not get upset。 He put the basket in its place and tied it to the leg of a table； convinced that the long…awaited event was imminent。 It was on that occasion that Auerliano heard him say：
“If you don’t fear God； fear him through the metals。
Suddenly； almost five months after her disappearance； ？rsula came back。 She arrived exalted； rejuvenated； with new clothes in a style that was unknown in the village。 Jos？Arcadio Buendía could barely stand up under the impact。 “That was it！？he shouted。 “I knew it was going to happen。？And he really believed it； for during his prolonged imprisonment as he manipulated the material； he begged in the depth of his heart that the longed…for miracle should not be the discovery of the philosopher’s stone； or the freeing of the breath that makes metals live； or the faculty to convert the hinges and the locks of the house into gold； but what had just happened： ？rsula’s return。 But she did not share his excitement。 She gave him a conventional kiss； as if she had been away only an hour； and she told him：
“Look out the door。？
Jos？Arcadio Buendía took a long time to get out of his perplexity when he went out into the street and saw the crowd。 They were not gypsies。 They were men and women like them； with straight hair and dark skin； who spoke the same language and plained of the same pains。 They had mules loaded down with things to eat； oxcarts with furniture and domestic utensils； pure and simple earthly accessories put on sale without any fuss by peddlers of everyday reality。 They came from the other side of the swamp； only two days away； where there were towns that received mail every month in the year and where they were familiar with the implements of good living。 ？rsula had not caught up with the gypsies； but she had found the route that her husband had been unable to discover in his frustrated search for the great inventions。
Chapter 3
PILAR TERNERA’S
