世紀文學經典:《百年孤獨》第10章Part 2

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 him through the memory of his grandfather.
"Hello," Aureli-ano Segun-do said.
"Hello, young man," said Melquíades.
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.
"It's better that way," she approved. "Let's hope that he becomes a priest so that God will finally come into this house."

書中的許多故事都沒有結尾，因爲書頁殘缺不全。奧雷連諾第二看完了書，決心識破梅爾加德斯的手稿，但這是不可能的。一頁頁手稿猶如掛在繩於上晾乾的衣服，上面的字兒更象樂譜，而不象普通的文字。一個炎熱的響午，奧雷連諾第二正在努力研究手稿的時候，覺得房間裏不止他一個人。梅爾加德斯雙手放在膝上，坐在明晃晃的窗子跟前。他看上去不到四十歲，仍然穿着那件舊式背心，戴着那頂帽餡宛似烏鴉翅膀的帽子，蒼白的鬢角流着汗水，好象暑熱熔化的脂肪，——這吉卜賽人正象奧雷連諾上校和霍·阿卡蒂奧兒童時代看見的那個樣子。奧雷連諾第二立刻認出了老頭兒，因爲老頭兒的形象是布恩蒂亞家一代一代傳下來的，從祖輩一直傳給了他。
“您好，”奧雷連諾第二說。
“您好，年輕人，”梅爾加德斯說。
從那時起，在幾年中，他們幾乎每天下午見面。梅爾加德斯告訴他天下大事，打算把自己過時的才智傳給他，可是不願向他解釋自己的手稿。“在手稿滿一百年以前，誰也不該知道這兒寫些什麼，”他說。奧雷連諾第二永遠保守這些會見的祕密。有一次，烏蘇娜走進房間，湊巧梅爾加德斯也在，驚駭的奧雷連諾第二就以爲他那孤獨的世界馬上就要毀滅了。然而烏蘇娜沒有看見吉卜賽人。
“你在跟誰說話呀？”她問。
“沒跟誰，”奧雷連諾第二回答。
“你的曾祖父就是這樣，”烏蘇娜說。“他也老是自言自語。”
這時，霍·阿卡蒂奧第二實現了參觀行刑的願望。他至死記得同時射出的六發子彈的淡藍色閃光，記得槍聲在山野裏的迴響，記得犯人慘淡的微笑和茫然的目光，雖然鮮血已經浸透了他的襯衫，但他仍然立在那兒；雖然人家已經把他解下柱子、放進一口裝滿石灰的大箱子，但他還在繼續微笑。“他沒死，”霍·阿卡蒂奧第二想道，“他們在活埋他。”孩子得到了那樣的印象，從那時起他就厭惡軍事操練和戰爭了——不是因爲行刑，而是由於劊子手經常活埋犯人。後來，誰也沒有發覺，霍·阿卡蒂奧第二開始在鐘樓上敲鐘，幫助“嘮叨鬼”的繼任者——安東尼奧。 伊薩貝爾神父舉行彌撒，在教堂院子裏照料斗雞。格林川爾多·馬克斯。上校發現這種情形以後，把霍·阿卡蒂奧第二狠狠地罵了一頓，因爲他乾的是自由黨人厭惡的事情。“其實，”霍 .阿卡蒂奧第二說，“我覺得我會成爲保守黨人。”他相信這是命中註定的。惱怒的格林列爾多·馬克斯上校把這樁事情告訴了烏蘇娜。
“那更好，”她贊成曾孫子的行爲。“但願他成爲牧師，上帝終歸就會保佑咱們家了。”