YEARS LATER on his deathbed Aureli-ano Segun-do would remember the rainy afternoon in June when he went into the bedroom to meet his first son. Even though the child was languid and weepy, with no mark of a Buendía, he did not have to think twice about naming him.

"We'll call him José Arcadio," he said.

Fernanda del Carpio, the beautiful woman he had married the year before, agreed. úrsula, on the other hand, could not conceal a vague feeling of doubt. Throughout the long history of the family the insistent repetition of names had made her draw some conclusions that seemed to be certain. While the Aureli-anos were withdrawn, but with lucid minds, the José Arcadios were impulsive and enterprising, but they were marked with a tragic sign. The only cases that were impossible to classify were those of José Arcadio Segun-do and Aureli-ano Segun-do. They were so much alike and so mischievous during childhood that not even Santa Sofía de la Piedad could tell them apart. On the day of their christening Amaranta put bracelets on them with their respective names dressed them in different colored clothing marked with each one's initials, but when they began to go to school they decided to exchange clothing and bracelets and call each other by opposite names. The teacher, Melchor Escalona, used to knowing José Arcadio Segun-do by his green shirt, went out of his mind when he discovered that the latter was wearing Aureli-ano Segun-do's bracelet and that the otone said, nevertheless, that his name was Aureli-ano Segun-do in spite of the fact that he was wearing the white shirt and the bracelet with José Arcadio Segun-do's name. -From then on he was never sure who was who. Even when they grew up and life made them different. úrsula still wondered if they themselves might not have made a mistake in some moment of their intricate game of confusion had become changed forever. Until the beginning of adolescence they were two synchronized machines. They would wake up at the same time, have the urge to go to the bathroom at the same time, suffer the same upsets in health, and they even dreamed about the same things. In the house, where it was thought that they coordinated their actions with a simple desire to confuse, no one realized what really was happening until one day when Santa Sofía de la Piedad gave one of them a glass of lemonade and as soon as he tasted it the other one said that it needed sugar. Santa Sofía de la Piedad, who had indeed forgotten to put sugar in the lemonade, told úrsula about it. "That's what they're all like," she said without surprise. "crazy from birth." In time things became less disordered. The one who came out of the game of confusion with the name Aureli-ano Segun-do grew to monumental size like his grandfathers, the one who kept the name of José Arcadio Segun-do grew to be bony like the colonel, and the only thing they had in common was the family's solitary air. Perhaps it was that crossing of stature, names, and character that made úrsula suspect that they had been shuffled like a deck of cards since childhood.

The decisive difference was revealed in the midst of the war, when José Arcadio Segun-do asked Colonel Geri-neldo Márquez to let him see an execution. Against úrsula's better judgment his wishes were satisfied. Aureli-ano Segun-do, on the other hand, shuddered at the mere idea of witnessing an execution. He preferred to stay home. At the age of twelve he asked úrsula what was in the locked room. "Papers," she answered. "Melquíades' books and the strange things that he wrote in his last years." Instead of calming him, the answer increased his curiosity. He demanded so much, promised with such insistence that he would not mistreat the things, that úrsula, gave him the keys. No one had gone into the room again since they had taken Melquíades' body out and had put on the door a padlock whose parts had become fused together with rust. But when Aureli-ano Segun-do opened the windows a familiar light entered that seemed accustomed to lighting the room every day and there was not the slightest trace of dust or cobwebs, with everything swept and clean, better swept and cleaner than on the day of the burial, and the ink had not dried up in the inkwell nor had oxidation diminished the shine of the metals nor had the embers gone out under the water pipe where José Arcadio Buendía had vaporized mercury. On the shelves were the books bound in a cardboard--like material, pale, like tanned human skin, and the manuscripts were intact. In spite of the room's having been shut up for many years, the air seemed fresher than in the rest of the house. Everything was so recent that several weeks later, when úrsula went into the room a pail of water and a brush to wash the floor, there was nothing for her to do. Aureli-ano Segun-do was deep in the reading of a book. Although it had no cover and the title did not appear anywhere, the boy enjoyed the story a woman who sat at a table and ate nothing but kernels of rice, which she picked up with a pin, and the story of the fisherman who borrowed a weight for his net from a neighbor and when he gave him a fish in payment later it had a diamond in its stomach, and the one about the lamp that fulfilled wishes and about flying carpets. Surprised, he asked úrsula if all that was true and she answered him that it was, that many years ago the gypsies had brought magic lamps and flying mats to Macon-do.

"What's happening," she sighed, "is that the world is slowly coming to an end and those things don't come here any more."

When he finished the book, in which many of the stories had no endings because there were pages missing, Aureli-ano Segun-do set about deciphering the manuscripts. It was impossible. The letters looked like clothes hung out to dry on a line and they looked more like musical notation than writing. One hot noontime, while he was poring over the, manuscripts, he sensed that he was not alone in the room. Against the light from the window, sitting with his hands on his knees, was Melquíades. He was under forty years of age. He was wearing the same old-fashioned vest and the hat that looked like a raven's wings, and across his pale temples there flowed the grease from his hair that had been melted by the heat, just as Aureli-ano and José Arcadio had seen him when they were children. Aureli-ano Segun-do recognized him at once, because that hereditary memory had been transmitted from generation to generation and had come to through the memory of his grandfather.

"Hello," Aureli-ano Segun-do said.

From then on, for several years, they saw each other almost every afternoon. Melquíades talked to him about the world, tried to infuse him with his old wisdom, but he refused to translate the manuscripts. "No one must know their meaning until he has reached one hundred years of age," he explained. Aureli-ano kept those meetings secret forever. On one occasion he felt that his private world had fallen apart because úrsula came in when Melquíades was in the room. But she did not see him.

"Who were you talking to?" she asked him.

"Nobody," Aureli-ano Segun-do said.

"That's what your great-grandfather did," úrsula, said. "He used to talk to himself too."

José Arcadio Segun-do, in the meantime, had satisfied his wish to see a shooting. For the rest of his life he would remember the livid flash of the six simultaneous shots-and the echo of the discharge as it broke against the hills and the sad smile and perplexed eyes of the man being shot, who stood erect while his shirt became soaked with blood, and who was still smiling even when they untied him from the post and put him in a box filled with quicklime. "He's alive," he thought. "They're going to bury him alive." It made such an impression on him that from then on he detested military practices and war, not because of the executions but because of the horrifying custom of burying the victims alive. No one knew then exactly when he began to ring the bells in the church tower and assist Father Antonio Isabel, the successor to "The Pup," at mass, and take can of the fighting cocks in the courtyard of the parish house. When Colonel Geri-neldo Márquez found out he scolded him strongly for learning occupations repudiated by the Liberals. "The fact is," he answered, "I think I've turned out to be a Conservative." He believed it as if it had been determined by fate. Colonel Geri-neldo Márquez, scandalized, told úrsula about it.

"I go Tuesday nights," he confessed. "if you promise not to tell anyone I'll take you next Tuesday."

Indeed, on the following Tuesday Petronio came down out of the tower with a wooden stool which until then no one had known the use of, and he took José Arcadio Segun-do to a nearby pasture. The boy became so taken with those nocturnal raids that it was a long time before he was seen at Catarino's. He became a cockfight man. "Take those creatures somewhere else," úrsula ordered him the first time she saw him come in with his fine fighting birds. "Roosters have already brought too much bitterness to this house for you to bring us any more." José Arcadio Segun-do took them away without any argument, but he continued breeding them at the house of Pilar Ternera, his grandmother, who gave him everything he needed in exchange for having him in her house. He soon displayed in the cockpit the wisdom that Father Antonio Isabel had given him, and he made enough money not only to enrich his brood but also to look for a man's satisfactions. úrsula compared him with his brother at that time and could not understand how the twins, who looked like the same person in childhood, had ended up so differently. Her perplexity did not last very long, for quite soon Aureli-ano Segun-do began to show signs of laziness and dissipation. While he was shut up in Melquíades' room he was drawn into himself the way Colonel Aureli-ano Buendía had been in his youth. But a short time after the Treaty of Neerlandia, a piece of chance took him out of his withdrawn self and made him face the reality of the world. A young woman who was selling numbers for the raffle of an accordion greeted him with a great deal of familiarity. Aureli-ano Segun-do was not surprised, for he was frequently confused with his brother. But he did not clear up the mistake, not even when the girl tried to soften his heart with sobs, and she ended taking him to her room. She liked him so much from that first meeting that she fixed things so that he would win the accordion in the raffle. At the end of two weeks Aureli-ano Segun-do realized that the woman had been going to bed alternately with him and his brother, thinking that they were the same man, and instead of making things clear, he arranged to prolong the situation. He did not return to Melquíades' room. He would spend his afternoons in the courtyard, learning to play the accordion by ear over the protests úrsula, who at that time had forbidden music in the house because the mourning and who, in addition, despised the accordion as an instrument worthy only of the vagabond heirs Francisco the Man. Nevertheless, Aureli-ano Segun-do became a virtuoso on the accordion and he still was after he had married and had children and was one of the most respected men in Macon-do.

For almost two months he shared the woman with his brother. He would watch him, mix up his plans, and when he was sure that José Arcadio Segun-do was not going to visit their common mistress that night, he would go and sleep with her. One morning he found that he was sick. Two days later he found his brother clinging to a beam in the bathroom, soaked in sweat and with tears pouring down, and then he understood. His brother confessed to him that the woman had sent him away because he had given her what she called a low-life sickness. He also told him how Pilar Ternera had tried to cure him. Aureli-ano Segun-do submitted secretly to the burning baths of permanganate and to diuretic waters, and both were cured separately after three months of secret suffering. José Arcadio Segun-do did not see the woman again. Aureli-ano Segun-do obtained her pardon and stayed with her until his death.

Her name was Petra Cotes. She had arrived in Macon-do in the middle of the war a chalice husband who lived off raffles, and when the man died she kept up the business. She was a clean young mulatto woman with yellow almond-shaped eyes that gave face the ferocity of a panther, but she had a generous heart and a magnificent vocation for love. When úrsula realized that José Arcadio Segun-do was a cockfight man and that Aureli-ano Segun-do played the accordion at his concubine's noisy parties, she thought she would go mad with the combination. It was as if the defects of the family and none of the virtues had been concentrated in both. Then she decided that no one again would be called Aureli-ano or José Arcadio. Yet when Aureli-ano Segun-do had his first son she did not dare go against his will.

"All right," úrsula said, "but on one condition: I will bring him up."

Although she was already a hundred years old and on the point of going blind from cataracts, she still had physical dynamism, her integrity of character, and her mental balance intact. No one would be better able than she to shape the virtuous man who would restore the prestige of the family, a man who would never have heard talk of war, fighting cocks, bad women, or wild undertakings, four calamities that, according to what úrsula thought, had determined the downfall. of their line. "This one will be a priest," she promised solemnly. "And if God gives me life he'll be Pope someday." They all laughed when they heard her, not only in the bedroom but all through the house, where Aureli-ano Segun-do's rowdy friends were gathered. The war, relegated to the attic of bad memories, was momentarily recalled with the popping of champagne bottles.

"To the health of the Pope," Aureli-ano Segun-do toasted.

The guests toasted in a chorus. Then the man of the house played the accordion, fireworks were set off, and drums celebrated the event throughout the town. At dawn the guests, soaked in champagne, sacrificed six cows and put them in the street at the disposal of the crowd. No one was scandalized. Since Aureli-ano Segun-do had taken charge the house those festivities were a common thing, even when there was no motive as proper as the birth of a Pope. In a few years, without effort, simply by luck, he had accumulated one of the largest fortunes in the swamp thanks to the supernatural proliferation of his animals. His mares would bear triplets, his hens laid twice a day, and his hogs fattened with such speed that no one could explain such disorderly fecundity except through the use black magic. "Save something now," úrsula would tell her wild great-grandson. "This luck is not going to last all your life." But Aureli-ano Segun-do paid no attention to her. The more he opened champagne to soak his friends, the more wildly his animals gave birth and the more he was convinced that his lucky star was not a matter of his conduct but an influence of Petra Cotes, his concubine, whose love had the virtue of exasperating nature. So convinced was he that this was the origin of his fortune that he never kept Petra Cotes far away from his breeding grounds and even when he married had children he continued living with her with the consent Fernanda. Solid, monumental like his grandfathers, but with a joie de vivre and an irresistible good humor that they did not have, Aureli-ano Segun-do scarcely had time to look after his animals. All he had to do was to take Petra Cores to his breeding grounds and have her ride across his land in order to have every animal marked with his brand succumb to the irremediable plague of proliferation.

Like all the good things that occurred in his long life, that tremendous fortune had its origins in chance. Until the end of the wars Petra Cotes continued to support herself with the returns from her raffles and Aureli-ano Segun-do was able to sack úrsula's savings from time to time. They were a frivolous couple, with no other worries except going to bed every night, even on forbidden days, and frolicking there until dawn. "That woman has been your ruination," úrsula would shout at her great-grandson when she saw him coming into the house like a sleepwalker. "She's got you so bewitched that one of these days I'm going to see you twisting around with colic and with a toad in your belly." José Arcadio Segun-do, who took a long time to discover that he had been supplanted, was unable to understand his brother's passion. He remembered Petra Cotes as an ordinary woman, rather lazy in bed, and completely lacking in any resources for lovemaking. Deaf to úrsula's clamor and the teasing of his brother, Aureli-ano Segun-do only thought at that time of finding a trade that would allow him to maintain a house for Petra Cotes, and to die her, on top of her and underneath her, during a night of feverish license. When Colonel Aureli-ano Buendía opened up his workshop again, seduced at last by the peaceful charms of old age, Aureli-ano Segun-do thought that it would be good business to devote himself to the manufacture of little gold fishes. He spent many hours in the hot room watching how the hard sheets of metal, worked by the colonel with the inconceivable patience of disillusionment, were slowly being converted into golden scales. The work seemed so laborious to him and the thought of Petra Cotes was so persistent and pressing that after three weeks he disappeared from the workshop. It was during that time that it occurred to Petra Cotes to raffle off rabbits. They reproduced and grew up so fast that there was barely time to sell the tickets for the raffle. At first Aureli-ano Segun-do did not notice the alarming proportions of the proliferation. But one night, when nobody in town wanted to hear about the rabbit raffle any more, he heard a noise by the courtyard door. "Don't get worried," Petra, Cotes said. "It's only the rabbits." They could not sleep, tormented by the uproar of the animals. At dawn Aureli-ano Segun-do opened the door and saw the courtyard paved with rabbits, blue in the glow of dawn. Petra Cotes, dying with laughter, could not resist the temptation of teasing him.

"Those are the ones who were born last night," she aid.

"Oh my God!" he said. "Why don't you raffle off cows?"

A few days later, in an attempt to clean out her courtyard, Petra Cotes exchanged the rabbits for a cow, who two months later gave birth to triplets. That was how things began. Overnight Aureli-ano Segun-do be. came the owner of land and livestock and he barely had time to enlarge his overflowing barns and pigpens. It was a delirious prosperity that even made him laugh, and he could not help doing crazy things to release his good humor. "Cease, cows, life is short," he would shout. úrsula wondered what entanglements he had got into, whether he might be stealing, whether he had become a rustler, and every time she saw him uncorking champagne just for the pleasure of pouring the foam over his head, she would shout at him and scold him for the waste. It annoyed him so much that one day when he awoke in a merry mood, Aureli-ano Segun-do appeared a chest full of money, a can of paste, and a brush, and singing at the top of his lungs the old songs of Francisco the Man, he papered the house inside and out and from top to bottom, with one-peso banknotes. The old mansion, painted white since the time they had brought the pianola, took on the strange look of a mosque. In the midst of the excitement of the family the scandalization of úrsula, the joy of the people cramming the street to watch that apotheosis of squandering. Aureli-ano Segun-do finished by papering the house from the front to the kitchen, including bathrooms and bedrooms, and threw the leftover bills into the courtyard.

"Now," he said in a final way, "I hope that nobody in this house ever talks to me about money again."

That was what happened. úrsula had the bills taken down, stuck to great cakes of whitewash, and the house was painted white again. "Dear Lord," she begged, "make us poor again the way we were when we founded this town so that you will not collect for this squandering in the other life." Her prayers were answered in reverse. One of the workmen removing the bills bumped into an enormous plaster statue of Saint Joseph that someone had left in the house during the last years of the war and the hollow figure broke to pieces on the floor. It had been stuffed with gold coins. No one could remember who had brought that life-sized saint. "Three men brought it," Amaranta explained. "They asked us to keep it until the rains were over and I told them to put it there in the corner where nobody would bump into it, and there they put it, very carefully, and there it's been ever since because they never came back for it." Later on, úrsula had put candles on it and had prostrated herself before it, not suspecting that instead of a saint she was adoring almost four bundled pounds of gold. The tardy evidence of her involuntary paganism made her even more upset. She spat on the spectacular pile of coins, put them in three canvas sacks, and buried them in a secret place, hoping that sooner or later the three unknown men would come to reclaim them. Much later, during the difficult years of her decrepitude, úrsula would intervene in the conversations of the many travelers who came by the house at that time and ask them if they had left a plaster Saint Joseph there during the war to be taken care of until the rains passed.

Things like that which gave úrsula such consternation, were commonplace in those days. Macon-do was swamped in a miraculous prosperity. The adobe houses of the founders had been replaced by brick buildings with wooden blinds and cement floors which made the suffocating heat of two o'clock in the afternoon more bearable. All that remained at that time of José Arcadio Buendía's ancient village were the dusty almond trees, destined to resist the most arduous of circumstances, and the river of clear water whose prehistoric stones had been pulverized by the frantic hammers of José Arcadio Segun-do when he set about opening the channel in order to establish a boat line. It was a mad dream, comparable to those of his great-grandfather, for the rocky riverbed and the numerous rapids prevented navigation from Macon-do to the sea. But José Arcadio Segun-do, in an unforeseen burst of temerity, stubbornly kept on with the project. Until then he had shown no sign of imagination. Except for his precarious adventure with Petra Cotes, he had never known a woman. úrsula had considered him the quietest example the family had ever produced in all its history, incapable standing out even as a handler of fighting cocks, when Colonel Aureli-ano Buendía told him the story of the Spanish galleon aground eight miles from the sea, the carbonized frame of which he had seen himself during the war. The story, which for so many years had seemed fantastic to so many people, was a revelation for José Arcadio Segun-do. He auctioned off his roosters to the highest bidder, recruited men, bought tools, and set about the awesome task of breaking stones, digging canals, clearing away rapids, and even harnessing water-falls. "I know all of this by heart," úrsula would shout. "It's as if time had turned around and we were back at the beginning." When he thought that the river was navigable, José Arcadio Segun-do gave his brother a detailed account of his plans and the latter gave him the money he needed for the enterprise. He disappeared for a long time. It had been said that his plan to buy a boat was nothing but a trick to make off with his brother's money when the news spread that a strange craft was approaching the town. The inhabitants of Macon-do, who no longer remembered the colossal undertakings of José Arcadio Buendía, ran to the riverbank and saw eyes popping in disbelief the arrival of the first and last boat ever to dock in the town. It was nothing but a log raft drawn by thick ropes pulled by twenty men who walked along the bank. In the prow, with a glow of satisfaction in his eyes, José Arcadio Segun-do was directing the arduous maneuver. There arrived with him a rich group of splendid matrons who were protecting themselves from the burning sun with gaudy parasols, and wore on their shoulders fine silk kerchiefs, colored creams on their faces and natural flowers in their hair and golden serpents on their arms and diamonds in their teeth. The log raft was the only vessel that José Arcadio Segun-do was able to bring to Macon-do, and only once, but he never recognized the failure of his enterprise, but proclaimed his deed as a victory of will power. He gave a scrupulous accounting to his brother and very soon plunged back into the routine of cockfights. The only thing that remained of that unfortunate venture was the breath of renovation that the matrons from France brought, as their magnificent arts transformed traditional methods of love and their sense of social wellbeing abolished Catarino's antiquated place and turned the street into a bazaar of Japanese lanterns and nostalgic hand organs. They were the promoters of the bloody carnival that plunged Macon-do into delirium for three days and whose only lasting consequence was having given Aureli-ano Segun-do the opportunity to meet Fernanda del Carpio.

Remedios the Beauty was proclaimed queen. úrsula, who shuddered at the disquieted beauty of her great--granddaughter, could not prevent the choice. Until then she had succeeded in keeping her off the streets unless it was to go to mass with Amaranta, but she made her cover her face with a black shawl. The most impious men, those who would disguise themselves as priests to say sacrilegious masses in Catarino's store, would go to church with an aim to see, if only for an instant, the face of Remedios the Beauty, whose legendary good looks were spoken of with alarming excitement throughout the swamp. It was a long time before they were able to do so, and it would have been better for them if they never had, because most of them never recovered their peaceful habits of sleep. The man who made it possible, a foreigner, lost his serenity forever, became involved in the sloughs of abjection and misery, and years later was cut to pieces by a train after he had fallen asleep on the tracks. From the moment he was seen in the church, wearing a green velvet suit and an embroidered vest, no one doubted that he came from far away, perhaps from some distant city outside of the country, attracted by the magical fascination of Remedios the Beauty. He was so handsome, so elegant dignified, with such presence, that Pietro Crespi would have been a mere fop beside him and many women whispered with spiteful smiles that he was the one who really should have worn the shawl. He did not speak to anyone in Macon-do. He appeared at dawn on Sunday like a prince in a fairy tale, riding a horse with silver stirrups and a velvet blanket, and he left town after mass.

The power of his presence was such that from the first time he was seen in the church everybody took it for granted that a silent and tense duel had been established between him and Remedios the Beauty, a secret pact, an irrevocable challenge that would end not only in love but also in death. On the sixth Sunday the gentleman appeared with a yellow rose in his hand. He heard mass standing, as he always did, and at the end he stepped in front of Remedios the Beauty and offered her the solitary rose. She took it with a natural gesture, as if she had been prepared for that homage, and then she uncovered her face and gave her thanks with a smile. That was all she did. Not only for the gentleman, but for all the men who had the unfortunate privilege of seeing her, that was an eternal instant.

From then on the gentleman had a band of musicians play beside the window of Remedios the Beauty, sometimes until dawn. Aureli-ano Segun-do was the only one who felt a cordial compassion for him and he tried to break his perseverance. "Don't waste your time any more," he told him one night. "The women in this house are worse than mules." He offered him his friendship, invited him to bathe in champagne, tried to make him understand that the females of his family had insides made of flint, but he could not weaken his obstinacy. Exasperated by the interminable nights of music, Colonel Aureli-ano Buendía threatened to cure his affliction with a few pistol shots. Nothing made him desist except his own lamentable state of demoralization. From a welldressed and neat individual he became filthy and ragged. It was rumored that he had abandoned power and fortune in his distant nation, although his origins were actually never known. He became argumentative, a barroom brawler, and he would wake up rolling in his own filth in Catarino's store. The saddest part of his drama was that Remedios the Beauty did not notice him not even when he appeared in church dressed like a prince. She accepted the yellow rose without the least bit of malice, amused, rather, by the extravagance of the act, and she lifted her shawl to see his face better, not to show hers.

Actually, Remedios the Beauty was not a creature of this world. Until she was well along in puberty Santa Sofía de la. Piedad had to bathe and dress her, and even when she could take care of herself it was necessary to keep an eye on her so that she would not paint little animals on the walls with a stick daubed in her own excrement. She reached twenty without knowing how to read or write, unable to use the silver at the table, wandering naked through the house because her nature rejected all manner of convention. When the young commander of the guard declared his love for her, she rejected him simply because his frivolity startled her. "See how simple he is," she told Amaranta. "He says that he's dying because of me, as if I were a bad case of colic." When, indeed, they found dead beside her window, Remedios the Beauty confirmed her first impression.

It seemed as if some penetrating lucidity permitted her to see the reality of things beyond any formalism. That at least was the point of view of Colonel Aureli-ano Buendía, for whom Remedios the Beauty was in no way mentally retarded, as was generally believed, but quite the opposite. "It's as if she's come back from twenty years of war," he would say. úrsula, for her part, thanked God for having awarded the family with a creature exceptional purity, but at the same time she was disturbed by her beauty, for it seemed a contradictory virtue to her, a diabolical trap at the center of her innocence. It was for that reason that she decided to keep her away from the world, to protect her from all earthly temptation, not knowing that Remedios the Beauty, even from the time when she was in her mother's womb, was safe from any contagion. It never entered her head that they would elect her beauty queen of the carnival pandemonium. But Aureli-ano, Segun-do, excited at the caprice of disguising himself as a tiger, brought Father Antonio Isabel to the house in order to convince úrsula that the carnival was not a pagan feast, as she said, but a Catholic tradition. Finally convinced, even though reluctantly, she consented to the coronation.

The news that Remedios Buendía was going to be the sovereign ruler of the festival went beyond the limits of the swamp in a few hours, reached distant places where the prestige of her beauty was not known, and it aroused the anxiety of those who still thought of her last name as a symbol of subversion. The anxiety was baseless. If anyone had become harmless at that time it was the aging and disillusioned Colonel Aureli-ano Buendía, who was slowly losing all contact with the reality of the nation. Enclosed in his workshop, his only relationship with the rest of the world was his business in little gold fishes. One of the soldiers who had guarded his house during the first days of peace would go sell them in the villages of the swamp and return loaded down with coins and news. That the Conservative government, he would say, with the backing of the Liberals, was reforming the calendar so that every president could remain in power for a hundred years. That the concordat with the Holy See had finally been signed and a cardinal had come from Rome with a crown of diamonds and a throne of solid gold, and that the Liberal ministers had had their pictures taken on their knees in the act of kissing his ring. That the leading lady of a Spanish company passing through the capital had been kidnapped by a band of masked highwaymen and on the following Sunday she had danced in the nude at the summer house of the president of the republic. "Don't talk to me about politics," the colonel would tell him. "Our business is selling little fishes." The rumor that he did not want to hear anything about the situation in the country because he was growing rich in his workshop made úrsula laugh when it reached her ears. With her terrible practical sense she could not understand the colonel's business as he exchanged little fishes for gold coins and then converted the coins into little fishes, and so on, with the result that he had to work all the harder with the more he sold in order to satisfy an exasperating vicious circle. Actually, what interested was not the business but the work. He needed so much concentration to link scales, fit minute rubies into the eyes, laminate gills, and put on fins that there was not the smallest empty moment left for him to fill with his disillusionment the war. So absorbing was the attention required by the delicacy of his artistry that in a short time he had aged more than during all the years of the war, and his position had twisted his spine the close work had used up his eyesight, but the implacable concentration awarded him with a peace of the spirit. The last time he was seen to take an interest in some matter related to the war was when a group of veterans from both parties sought his support for the approval of lifetime pensions, which had always been promised and were always about to be put into effect. "Forget about it," he told them. "You can see how I refuse my pension in order to get rid of the torture of waiting for it until the day I died." At first Colonel Geri-neldo Márquez would visit him at dusk and they would both sit in the street door and talk about the past. But Amaranta could not bear the memories that that man, whose baldness had plunged him into the abyss of premature old age, aroused in her, and she would torment snide remarks until he did not come back except on special occasions and he finally disappeared, extinguished by paralysis. Taciturn, silent, insensible to the new breath of vitality that was shaking the house, Colonel Aureli-ano Buendía could understand only that the secret of a good old age is simply an honorable pact with solitude. He would get up at five in the morning after a light sleep, have his eternal mug of bitter coffee in the kitchen, shut himself up all day in the workshop, and at four in the afternoon he would go along the porch dragging a stool, not even noticing the fire of the rose bushes or the brightness of the hour or the persistence of Amaranta, whose melancholy made the noise of a boiling pot, which was perfectly perceptible at dusk, and he would sit in the street door as long as the mosquitoes would allow him to. Someone dared to disturb his solitude once.

"Right here," he answered. "Waiting for my funeral procession to pass."

So that the anxiety caused by the public reappearance of his family name, having to do with the coronation Remedios the Beauty, was baseless. Many people did not think that way, however. Innocent of the tragedy that threatened it, the town poured into the main square in a noisy explosion of merriment. The carnival had reached its highest level of madness Aureli-ano Segun-do had satisfied at last his dream of dressing up like a tiger and was walking along the wild throng, hoarse from so much roaring, when on the swamp road a parade of several people appeared carrying in a gilded litter the most fascinating woman that imagination could conceive. For a moment the inhabitants of Ma-condo took off their masks in order to get a better look at the dazzling creature with a crown of emeralds and an ermine cape, who seemed invested with legitimate authority, and was not merely a sovereign of bangles and crepe paper. There were many people who had sufficient insight to suspect that it was a question of provocation. But Aureli-ano Segun-do immediately conquered his perplexity and declared the new arrivals to be guests of honor, and with the wisdom of Solomon he seated Remedios the Beauty and the intruding queen on the same dais. Until midnight the strangers, disguised as bedouins, took part in the delirium and even enriched it with sumptuous fireworks and acrobatic skills that made one think of the art of the gypsies. Suddenly, during the paroxysm of the celebration, someone broke the delicate balance.

"Long live the Liberal party!" he shouted. "Long live Colonel Aureli-ano Buendía!"

The rifle shots drowned out the splendor the fireworks and the cries of terror drowned out the music and joy turned into panic. Many years later there were those who still insisted that the royal guard of the intruding queen was a squad of regular army soldiers who were concealing government-issue rifles under their rich Moorish robes. The government denied the charge in a special proclamation and promised a complete investigation of the bloody episode. But the truth never came to light, and the version always prevailed that the royal guard, without provocation of any kind, took up combat positions upon a signal from their commander and opened fire without pity on the crowd. When calm was restored, not one of the false bedouins remained in town and there were many dead and wounded lying on the square: nine clowns, four Columbines, seventeen playing-card kings, one devil, three minstrels, two peers of France, and three Japanese empresses. In the confusion of the panic José Arcadio Segun-do managed to rescue Remedios the Beauty and Aureli-ano Segun-do carried the intruding queen to the house in his arms, her dress torn and the ermine cape stained with blood. name was Fernanda del Carpio. She had been chosen as the most beautiful of the five thousand most beautiful women in the land and they had brought her to Macon-do with the promise of naming her Queen of Madagascar. úrsula took care of her as if she were her own daughter. The town, instead of doubting her innocence, pitied her candor. Six months after the massacre, when the wounded had recovered and the last flowers on the mass grave had withered, Aureli-ano Segun-do went to fetch her from the distant city where she lived with her father and he married her in Macon-do with a noisy celebration that lasted twenty days.

多年以后，在临终的床上，奥雷连诺第二将会想起六月间一个雨天的下午，他如何到卧室里去看自己的头生子。儿子虽然孱弱、爱哭，一点不象布恩蒂亚家的人，但他毫不犹豫就给儿子取了名字。

“咱们就叫他霍·阿卡蒂奥吧，”他说。

菲兰达·德卡皮奥这个标致的女人，是一年前跟奥雷选诺第二结婚的。她同意丈大的意见。相反地，乌苏娜却掩饰不住模糊的不安之感。在漫长的家史中，同样的名字不断重复，使得乌苏娜作出了她觉得确切的结论：所有的奥雷连诺都很孤僻，但有敏锐的头脑，而所有的霍·阿卡蒂奥都好冲动、有胆量，但都打上了必遭灭亡的烙印。不属于这种分类的只有霍·阿卡蒂奥第二和奥雷连诺第二。在儿童时代，他俩那么相似，那么好动，甚至圣索菲娅·德拉佩德自己都分辨不清他们两人。在洗礼日，阿玛兰塔给他们的手腕戴上刻着各人名字的手镯，给他们穿上绣着各人名字的不同颜色的衣服，但他们开始上学的时候，却故意交换了衣服和手镯，甚至彼此用自己的名字称呼对方。教师梅尔乔尔·艾斯卡隆纳惯于凭绿色衬衫认出霍·阿卡蒂奥第二，但他觉得生气的是，竟发现身穿绿色衬衫的孩子戴着刻有“奥雷连诺第二”名字的手镯，而另一个身穿白色衬衫的孩子却说“奥雷连诺第二”是他，尽管他的手镯上刻着“霍·阿卡蒂奥第二”的名字。从那时起，谁也搞不清他们谁是谁了。即使他长大以后，日常生活已使他们变得各不相同，乌苏娜仍旧经常问自己，他们在玩复杂的换装把戏时自个儿会不会弄错了，会不会永远乱了套。在孪生子进入青年时期之前，这是两个同步的机器。他们常常同时醒来，同时想进浴室；他们患同样的病，甚至做同样的梦。家里的人认为，两个孩子协调地行动只是想闹着玩儿，谁也没有精到真正的原因，直到某一天，圣索菲娅给他们每人一杯柠檬水，一个孩子刚刚用嘴沾了沾饮料，另一个孩子就说柠檬水不甜。圣索菲娅·德拉佩德真的忘了在杯子里放糖，就把这个情况告诉乌苏娜。“他们全是一路货，”乌苏娜毫不奇怪地回答。“天生的疯子。”随后，混乱更大了。在换装把戏玩过之后，名叫奥雷连诺第二的孩子，长得象他曾祖父霍·阿·布恩蒂亚一样魁梧，而名叫霍·阿卡蒂奥第二的孩子，却长得象奥雷连诺上校一样瘦削；孪生子唯一共同之点，是全家固有的孤独样儿。也许，正是由于身材、名字和性格上的不一致，乌苏娜以为孪生子在童年时代就搞混了。

他俩之间的主要区别是在战争最激烈时表现出来的；当时，霍·阿卡蒂奥第二要求格林列尔多·马克斯上校允许他去看看行刑。尽管乌苏娜反对，他的愿望还是得到了满足。恰恰相反，奥雷连诺第二想到去看行刑就浑身哆嗦。他宁肯呆在家里。十二岁时，他向乌苏娜打听一间锁着的房间里有什么东西。“纸儿嘛，”她回答，“梅尔加德斯的书，还有他最后几年记的古怪笔记。”这个解释不仅未使奥雷连诺第二平静下来，反而增加了他的好奇。他缠着不放，坚决答应不弄坏任何东西，乌苏娜终于把钥匙给了他。自从梅尔加德斯的尸体抬出房间，门上挂了锁，谁也没有再进去过；门锁生锈的部分已经凝在一起。可是，奥雷连诺第二打开窗子的时候，阳光随着就照进了房间，仿佛每天都是这样，哪儿也看不到一小点尘土或蛛网，一切都显得整齐、干净，甚至比安葬那一天还整齐干净；墨水瓶里装满了墨水，没有生锈的金属闪着光彩，霍·阿·布恩蒂亚熬水银的熔铁炉仍然有火。书架上立着一些书，精装布面由于时间过久已经翘起，象晒过的皮肤那样黝黑，若干手稿还完整无损地放在那儿。这个房间尽管锁了多年，但这里的空气似乎比其他的房间还新鲜。一切都是那么井然有序。过了几个星期，乌苏娜拿着水桶和刷子来擦洗地板的时候，她发现这儿没有什么可干的。奥雷连诺第二埋头阅读一本书。他不知道书名，因为封面已经没有了，但这并不妨碍他欣赏书中的故事：有个故事讲的是一个女人，她坐在桌边只顾吃饭，每一粒饭她都用大头针挑起来吃；另一个故事讲的是一个渔夫，他向邻人借了做鱼网用的铅锤，然后拿一条鱼酬谢他，而这条鱼的肚子里却有一枚大钻石；还有一个故事讲的是能够满足任何愿望的幻灯和飞毯。他觉得惊异就问乌苏娜，这一切是不是真的，她回答说，这些都是真的，许多年前吉卜赛人曾把幻灯和飞毯带到马孔多。

“问题是，”她叹了口气，“世界正在逐渐走向末日，那些个东西再也不会到马孔多来啦。”

书中的许多故事都没有结尾，因为书页残缺不全。奥雷连诺第二看完了书，决心识破梅尔加德斯的手稿，但这是不可能的。一页页手稿犹如挂在绳于上晾干的衣服，上面的字儿更象乐谱，而不象普通的文字。一个炎热的响午，奥雷连诺第二正在努力研究手稿的时候，觉得房间里不止他一个人。梅尔加德斯双手放在膝上，坐在明晃晃的窗子跟前。他看上去不到四十岁，仍然穿着那件旧式背心，戴着那顶帽馅宛似乌鸦翅膀的帽子，苍白的鬓角流着汗水，好象暑热熔化的脂肪，——这吉卜赛人正象奥雷连诺上校和霍·阿卡蒂奥儿童时代看见的那个样子。奥雷连诺第二立刻认出了老头儿，因为老头儿的形象是布恩蒂亚家一代一代传下来的，从祖辈一直传给了他。

“您好，”奥雷连诺第二说。

“您好，年轻人，”梅尔加德斯说。

从那时起，在几年中，他们几乎每天下午见面。梅尔加德斯告诉他天下大事，打算把自己过时的才智传给他，可是不愿向他解释自己的手稿。“在手稿满一百年以前，谁也不该知道这儿写些什么，”他说。奥雷连诺第二永远保守这些会见的秘密。有一次，乌苏娜走进房间，凑巧梅尔加德斯也在，惊骇的奥雷连诺第二就以为他那孤独的世界马上就要毁灭了。然而乌苏娜没有看见吉卜赛人。

“你在跟谁说话呀？”她问。

“没跟谁，”奥雷连诺第二回答。

“你的曾祖父就是这样，”乌苏娜说。“他也老是自言自语。”

这时，霍·阿卡蒂奥第二实现了参观行刑的愿望。他至死记得同时射出的六发子弹的淡蓝色闪光，记得枪声在山野里的回响，记得犯人惨淡的微笑和茫然的目光，虽然鲜血已经浸透了他的衬衫，但他仍然立在那儿；虽然人家已经把他解下柱子、放进一口装满石灰的大箱子，但他还在继续微笑。“他没死，”霍·阿卡蒂奥第二想道，“他们在活埋他。”孩子得到了那样的印象，从那时起他就厌恶军事操练和战争了——不是因为行刑，而是由于刽子手经常活埋犯人。后来，谁也没有发觉，霍·阿卡蒂奥第二开始在钟楼上敲钟，帮助“唠叨鬼”的继任者——安东尼奥.伊萨贝尔神父举行弥撒，在教堂院子里照料斗鸡。格林川尔多·马克斯。上校发现这种情形以后，把霍·阿卡蒂奥第二狠狠地骂了一顿，因为他干的是自由党人厌恶的事情。“其实，”霍.阿卡蒂奥第二说，“我觉得我会成为保守党人。”他相信这是命中注定的。恼怒的格林列尔多·马克斯上校把这桩事情告诉了乌苏娜。

“那更好，”她赞成曾孙子的行为。“但愿他成为牧师，上帝终归就会保佑咱们家了。”

她很快知道，安东尼奥·伊萨贝尔神父准备让霍·阿卡蒂奥第二参加第一次圣餐礼。神父一面修剪斗鸡脖子上的毛，一面给他讲教义要则。当他两人一起把抱蛋的母鸡放进窝里的时候，神父就用简单的例子向他解释，在创世的第二天，上帝是如何决定在卵里孵出小鸡的。那时，安东尼奥·伊萨贝尔神父已经开始显出老年痴呆病的初步症状；几年以后，他竟胡言乱语地说，仿佛魔鬼向上帝造反时取得了胜利，登上了天国的王位，而且为了把那些冒失的人诱入圈套，没向任何人暴露他那真正的身份。在这个良师坚持不懈的教导下，经过几个月工夫，霍·阿卡蒂奥第二不仅成了一个利用神学奥秘挫败魔鬼的行家，而且成了一个斗鸡专家，阿玛兰塔给他缝了一件有硬领和领结的亚麻布衣服，给他买了一双白色鞋子，并且在他的领结上用金线绣了他的名字。在圣餐礼之前的两个夜晚，安东尼奥·伊萨贝尔神父把自己和霍·阿卡蒂奥第二关在圣器室里，按照一份罪孽录听取他的忏悔。罪孽录那么长，惯于六时上床就寝的老神父，还没查问完毕就在椅子上睡着了。对霍·阿卡蒂奥第二来说，这样的查问也是一种启示，神父问他是否跟女人干过坏事时，他并不觉得奇怪，他老实地回答说“没有”；但是问他是否跟牲畜干过坏事，他就感到大惑不解了。这孩子在五月里的第一个星期五接受了圣餐，在好奇心的驱使下，就跑去找患病的教堂工友佩特罗里奥解释；这人是住在钟楼里的，听说他以蝙蝠充饥，佩特罗里奥回答他说：“有些浪荡的基督徒是跟母驴干这类事儿的。”霍·阿卡蒂奥第二的好奇心没有得到满足，他就继续提出许多问题，使得佩特罗里奥终于失去了耐心。

“我自己是每个星期二晚上都要去的，”他坦白说，“如果你答应不告诉任何人，下星期二我就带你去。”

果然，下星期二，佩特罗里奥拿着一只小木凳，从钟楼上下来了（在这以前，谁也不知道小木凳有这种用处），并且把霍.阿卡蒂奥第二领到最近的一个畜栏，小伙子那样喜欢这种夜袭，以致很长一段时间没去卡塔林诺游艺场。他成了一个饲养斗鸡的专家，“把这些鸡拿到别处去吧，”他第一次把良种斗鸡带到家里的时候，乌苏娜向他下了命令。“这些鸡给咱们家的痛苦已经够多了，不准你再把它们带回来。”霍·阿卡蒂奥第二没有争辩就带走了自己的斗鸡，但他继续在祖母皮拉·苔列娜家里饲养，祖母为了把孙子留在自己身边，给了他一切方便。很快，他在斗鸡场上成功地运用了安东尼奥·伊萨贝尔神父救他的伎俩，捞到了不少钱，不仅够他补充鸡舍，而且可以满足他享乐的需要。乌苏娜拿霍·阿卡蒂奥第二跟他的兄弟相比，怎么也弄不明白，儿童时代两个一模一样的孪生子竟会变成这样不同的人。她的困惑没有延续多久，因为奥雷连诺第二很快地表现了懒惰和放荡的倾向。当他关在梅尔加德斯房间里的时候，他是个闭门深思的人，象奥雷连诺上校年轻时一样。但在尼兰德协定签订之前不久，一件偶然的事使他离开了僻静的斗室，面对现实生活了。有一次，一个出售手风琴彩票的女人，突然十分亲热地招呼他。他并不觉得奇怪，因为人家经常把他错看成他的兄弟，但是，她想用哭泣来使他心软的时候，或者把他领进她的卧室的时候，他都没有挑明她的错误。在这次邂逅之后，她拼命缠着他不放，甚至在彩票上弄了鬼，让他在开彩时得到手风琴。过了两个星期，奥雷连诺第二发现，这个女人轮流跟他和他的兄弟睡觉，把他们当成了一个人，但他并没有讲明关系，反而竭力隐瞒真情，让这种情况延续下去。现在，他再也不回梅尔加德斯的房间，整天待在院子里，学拉手风琴，把乌苏娜的唠叨当成耳边风；当时由于丧事，乌苏娜是禁止家中出现乐曲声的，而且根本讨厌手风琴，认为它是弗兰西斯科人的后代——流浪乐师的乐器。然而，奥雷连诺第二终于成了个手风琴能手，即使有了妻子和孩子之后，他仍然爱拉手风琴，他是马孔多最受尊敬的人物之一。

在两个月中，奥雷连诺第二都跟他兄弟共同占有这个女人。他注意兄弟的行踪，搅乱兄弟的计划，相信当天夜里兄弟不会去找共同的情人，他才到她那儿去。一天早晨，他发现自己得了病。过了两天，他遇见兄弟站在浴室里，脑袋靠在墙上，浑身出汗，热泪盈眶；于是，奥雷连诺第二什么都明白了。他的兄弟坦白说，他使那个女人染上了她所谓的花柳病，被她撵出来了。他还说皮拉·苔列娜打算给他医治。奥雷连诺第二开始悄悄地用高锰酸钾热水洗澡，而且服用各种利尿剂。经过三个月隐秘的痛苦，兄弟俩都痊愈了。霍·阿卡蒂奥第二再也没跟那个女人见面。奥雷连诺第二却得到她的谅解，一直到死都跟她在一起。

她的名字叫佩特娜·柯特。她是战争时期跟一个萍水相逢的丈夫来到马孔多的；丈夫靠卖彩票过活，丈夫死后，她继续经营他的生意。这是个整洁、年轻的混血儿，有一对淡黄色的杏仁眼，这两只眼睛在她脸上增添了豹子似的凶猛神情，但她却有宽厚的心肠和真正的情场本领。乌苏娜知道霍·阿卡蒂奥第二正在饲养斗鸡的时候，奥雷连诺第二却在情妇嚣闹的酒宴上拉手风琴，她羞愧得差点儿疯了。这对孪生子似乎在自己身上集中了家旅的一切缺点，而没继承家族的一点美德。乌苏娜拿定主意，在她的家族中，谁也不准再叫奥雷连诺和霍·阿卡蒂奥了。然而，奥雷连诺第二的头生子出世时，她却没敢反对这个父亲的意愿。

“我同意。”乌苏娜说，“但是有个条件：得由我来抚养他。”

尽管乌苏娜已满一百岁，她的眼睛由于白内障快要失明了，但她仍有充沛的精力、严谨的性格和清醒的头脑。她相信，抚养孩子是谁也比不上她的，她能使孩子成为一个有美德的人——这个人将恢复家族的威望，根本就不知道战争、斗鸡、坏女人和胡思乱想；照乌苏娜看来，这是使她家族衰败的四大祸害。“这会是个神父，”她庄严地说。“如果上帝延长我的寿命，我会看见他当上教皇。”她的话不仅在卧室里引起笑声，而且在整座宅子里引起哄堂大笑，因为这一天宅子里挤满了奥雷连诺第二的一帮闹喳喳的朋友。战争已经成为悲惨的回忆，早已忘诸脑后，现在只有香槟酒瓶塞的噗噗声使人偶然想到了它。

“为教皇的健康干杯！”奥雷连诺第二叫道。

客人们一齐干杯。然后，家主拉手风琴，焰火飞上天空，庆祝的鼓声响彻了全镇。黎明，喝够了酒的客人们宰了六头牛犊，送到街上去给人群享用，这并没有使家里的人见怪。因为，自从奥雷连诺第二当家以来，即使没有“教皇诞生”的正当理由，这样的酒宴也是寻常的事。在几年中，奥雷连诺第二没费吹灰之力，光凭好运——家畜和家禽神奇的繁殖力，就成了沼泽地带最富裕的居民之一。他的母马一胎生三匹小驹，母鸡一日下两个蛋，猪猡长起膘来那么神速，除了魔法的作用，谁也无法说明这是什么原因。“把钱存起来吧，”乌苏娜向轻浮的曾孙子反复说。“这样的好运气是不会跟随你一辈子的。”可是，奥雷连诺第二没有理睬她的话。他越用香槟酒款待自己的朋友，他的牲畜越无限制地繁殖，他就越相信自己的鸿运并不取决于他的行为，而全靠他的情妇佩特娜.柯特，因为她的爱情具有激发生物繁殖的功能。他深信这是他发财致富的根源，就竭力让佩特娜·柯特跟他的畜群离得近些；奥雷连诺第二结了婚，有了孩子，但他征得妻子的同意，仍然继续跟情妇相会，他象祖辈一样长得魁梧、高大，但他具有祖辈没有的乐观精神和讨人喜欢的魅力，所以几乎没有时间照料自己的家畜。他要干的事儿就是把佩特娜·柯特带到畜栏去，或者跟她一块儿在牧场上骑着马踢，让每一只打上他的标记的牲畜都染上医治不好的“繁殖病”。

象他在漫长的一生中碰到的各种好事一样，这一大笔财富来得也是突然的。战争还没结束的时候，佩特娜.柯特靠卖彩票过活，而奥雷连诺第二却不时去偷乌苏娜的积蓄。这是一对轻浮的情人，两人只操心一件事儿：每夜睡在一起，即使在禁忌的日子里，也在床上玩乐到天亮。“这个女人会把你毁掉的，”乌苏娜看见他象梦游者似的拖着腿子回到家里，就向他叫嚷。“她搅昏了你的脑袋，总有一天我会看见你病得打滚，就象肚子里有一只箍蛤蟆，”霍·阿卡蒂奥第二过了很久才发现自己有了个替身，但他无法理解兄弟为什么那样火热。据他记得，佩特娜.柯特是个平平常常的女人，在床上相当疏懒，毫无魅力。可是奥雷连诺第二根本不听乌苏娜的嚷叫和兄弟的嘲笑，只想找个职业来跟佩特娜·柯特维持一个家，在一个发狂的夜里跟她一块儿死掉，并且死在她的怀里。当奥雷连诺上校终于迷上了晚年的宁静生活，重新打开作坊的时候，奥雷连诺第二以为制作小金鱼也许是有利可图的事。他在闷热的房间里一呆就是几个小时，观察幻想破灭的上校以难以理解的耐心给坚硬的金属板加工，使金属板逐渐变成了闪闪烁烁的鳞片。奥雷连诺第二觉得这个活儿挺苦，而又不断地渴念佩特娜·柯特，过了三个星期他就从作坊里消失了。正好这时，他带了几只兔子给情妇，让她用兔子抽彩。兔子开始以异常的速度繁殖、长大，佩特娜，柯特几乎来不及卖掉彩票，开头，奥雷连诺第二没有发现令人惊讶的繁殖数量。可是镇上的人不再过问兔子彩票的时候，有一天夜里，他却被墙外院子里的闹声惊醒了。

“别怕，”佩特娜.柯特说，“这是兔子。”可是两人都被墙外不停的闹声搞得十分苦恼，再也合不了眼。次日早晨，奥雷连诺第二打开房门，看见整个院子都挤满了兔子——在旭日照耀下，兔毛显得蓝幽幽的。佩特娜·柯特疯子似的哈哈大笑，忍不住跟他开玩笑。

“这些都是昨儿夜里生的，”她说。

“我的天！”奥雷连诺第二叫道：“你为什么不拿母牛来试一试呢？”

几天以后，佩特娜·柯特清除了院子，拿兔子换成一头母牛；过了两个月，这头母牛一胎生了三头牛犊。一切就从这儿开了头。眨眼间，奥雷连诺第二就成了牧场和畜群的主人，几乎来不及扩充马厩和挤得满满的猪圈，这极度的繁荣象是一场梦，甚至使他放声大笑起来，他不得不用古怪的举动来表露自己的愉快。“多生一些吧，母牛，生命短促呀！”他喊叫起来。乌苏娜怀疑她的曾孙子是不是做了什么见不得人的事：也许当了小偷，或者盗窃了别人的牲畜：每一次，她看见他打开香滨酒瓶，光是为了拿泡沫浇在自己头上取乐，她就向他叫嚷，斥责他浪费。乌苏娜的责难使他不能忍受，有一天黎明，他神气活现地回到家里，拿着一箱钞票、一罐浆糊和一把刷子，高声地唱着弗兰西斯科人的古老歌曲，把整座房子——里里外外和上上下下——都糊上每张一比索的钞票。自从搬进自动钢琴之后，这座旧房子一直是刷成白色的，现在却古里古怪的象座清真寺了，乌苏娜和家中的人气得直嚷，挤满街道的人大声地欢呼这种极度的浪费，这时奥雷连诺第二已把所有的地方——从房屋正面到厨房，包括浴室和卧室——裱糊完毕，把剩下的钞票扔到院里。

“现在，”他最后说，“我希望这座房子里的人再也不会向我提到钱的事啦。”

事情就是这样。乌苏娜叫人从墙上揭下粘着一块块灰泥的钞票，重新把房子刷成白色。“我的上帝，”乌苏娜祷告起来，“让我们变得象从前建村时那么穷吧，免得我们因为浪费在阴间受到惩罚。”她的祷告得到相反的回答。在战争结束之前，不知是谁把圣约瑟的一尊大石膏像拿到了这儿，这塑像被一个工人鲁莽地一撞，就摔在地上粉碎了。石膏像内装满了金币。谁也记不起这尊与真人一般大的圣像是谁拿到这儿的。“三个男人把它带来的，”阿玛兰塔说明。“他们要求我们让它留在这儿，等候雨季过去；我告诉他们把它放在角落里谁也不会碰着的地方；他们小心地把它放在那儿，就一直留在那儿了，因为谁也没有回来取走。”

后来，乌苏娜曾在圣像面前点起蜡烛，顶礼膜拜：无疑地，她崇拜的不是圣人，而是将近两百公斤黄金。随后发现自己下意识地亵读了圣人，她就更加难过了。随即，她从地上收集了一大堆金币，把它们放进三条口袋，埋在秘密的地方，以为那三个陌生人迟早会来取走。多年以后，在她衰老不堪的困难时期，许多外地人来到她的家里，她总要向他们打听，他们曾否在战争年代把圣约瑟的石膏像放在这儿，说是雨季过了就来取走。

在那些日子里，这一类使马苏娜操心的事是很平常的。马孔多象神话一样繁荣起来。建村者的土房已经换成了砖房，有遮挡太阳的百叶窗，还有洋灰地，这些都有助于忍受下午两点的焕热。能够使人想起从前霍·阿·布恩蒂亚建立的村子的，只有那些落淌尘土的杏树（这些杏树注定要经受最严峻的考验），还有那清澈的河流。霍·阿卡蒂奥第二打算清理河床，在这条河上开辟航道的时候，石匠们疯狂的鳃子已把河里史前巨蛋似的石头砸得粉碎。霍·阿卡蒂奥第二的打算本来是狂妄的梦想，只能跟霍·阿·布恩蒂亚的幻想相比。可是霍·阿卡蒂奥第二突然心血来潮，轻率地坚持自己的计划。在那以前，他是从来没有想入非非的，除了跟佩特娜·柯特短时间的艳遇，他甚至没有邂逅过其他女人。乌苏娜经常认为，在布恩蒂亚家族的整个历史上，这个曾孙子是它所有后代中最没出总的一个，就连在斗鸡场上也出不了风头，可是有一次，奥雷连诺上校向霍.阿卡蒂奥第二谈到了在离海十二公里的地方搁浅的西班牙大帆船，他在战争年代曾经亲眼见过它那烧成木炭的船骨。这个早就认为是虚构的故事，对霍·阿卡蒂奥第二却是个启示，他拍卖了自己的公鸡，临时雇了一些工人，购置了工具，就开始空前未有的工程：砸碎石头，挖掘河道，清除暗礁，甚至平整险滩。“这些我都背熟啦，”乌苏娜叫嚷。“时光好象在打圈子，我