Meme had finished her course of study. The diploma that certified her as a concert clavichordist was ratified by the virtuosity with which she executed popular melodies the seventeenth century at the gathering organized to celebrate the completion of her studies and with which the period of mourning came to in end. More than her art， the guests admired her duality. Her frivolous and even slightly infantile character did not seem up to any serious activity， but when she sat down at the clavichord she became a different girl， one whose unforeseen maturity gave the air of an adult. That was how she had always been. She really did am have any definite vocation， but she had earned the highest grades by means of inflexible discipline simply in order not to annoy her mother. They could have imposed on her an apprenticeship in any other field and the results would have been the same. Since she had been very small she had been troubled by Fernanda's strictness， her custom of deciding in favor of extremes; and she would have been capable of a much more difficult sacrifice than the clavichord lessons merely not to run up against her intransigence. During the graduation ceremonies she had the impression that the parchment with Gothic letters and illuminated capitals was freeing her from a compromise that she had accepted not so much out of obedience as out of convenience， and she thought that from then on not even the insistent Fernanda would worry any more about an instrument that even the nuns looked upon as a museum fossil. During the first years she thought that her calculations were mistaken because after she had put half the town to sleep， not only in the parlor but also at all charitable functions， school ceremonies， and patriotic celebrations that took place in Macon-do， her mother still invited to the house every newcomer whom she thought capable of appreciating her daughter's virtues. Only after the death of Amaranta， when the family shut itself up again in a period of mourning， was Meme able to lock the clavichord and forget the key in some dresser drawer without Fernanda's being annoyed on finding out when and through whose fault it had been lost. Meme bore up under the exhibitions with the same stoicism that she had dedicated to her apprenticeship. It was the price of her freedom. Fernanda was so pleased with her docility and so proud of the admiration that her art inspired that she was never against the house being fall of girl friends， her spending the afternoon in the groves， and going to the movies with Aureli-ano Segun-do or some muted lady as long as the film was approved by Father Antonio Isabel from the pulpit. During those moments of relaxation Meme's real tastes were revealed. Her happiness lay at the otextreme from discipline， in noisy parties， in gossip about lovers， in prolonged sessions with her girl friends， where they learned to smoke and talked about male business， and where they once got their hands on some cane liquor and ended up naked， measuring and comparing the parts of their bodies. Meme would never forget that night when she arrived home chewing licorice lozenges， and without noticing their consternation， sat down at the table where Fernanda and Amaranta were eating dinner without saying a word to each other. She had spent two tremendous hours in the bedroom of a girl friend， weeping with laughter and fear， and beyond an crises she had found the rare feeling of. bravery that she needed in order to run away from school and tell her mother in one way or another that she could use the clavichord as an enema. Sitting at the head of the table， drinking a chicken broth that landed in her stomach like an elixir of resurrection， Meme then saw Fernanda and Amaranta wrapped in an accusatory halo reality. She had to make a great effort not to throw at them their prissiness， their poverty of spirit their delusions of grandeur. From the time of her second vacation she had known that her father was living at home only in order to keep up appearances， and knowing Fernanda as she did and having arranged later to meet Petra Cotes， she thought that her father was right. She also would have preferred being the daughter of the concubine. In the haziness of the alcohol Meme thought with pleasure about the scandal that would have taken place if she were to express her thoughts at that moment， and the intimate satisfaction of her roguishness was so intense that Fernanda noticed it.

"What's the matter?" she asked.

"Nothing，" Meme answered. "I was only now discovering how much I loved you both."

Amaranta was startled by the obvious burden of hate that the declaration carried. But Fernanda felt so moved that she thought she would go mad when Meme awoke at midnight with her head splitting with pain and drowning in vomited gall. She gave her a vial of castor oil， put compresses on her stomach and ice cubes on her head， and she made her stay in bed for five days and follow the diet ordered by the new and outlandish French doctor， who after examining her for more than two hours reached the foggy conclusion that she had an ailment peculiar to women. Having lost her courage， in a miserable state of demoralization， Meme had no other recourse but to bear up under it. úrsula， completely blind by then but still active and lucid， was the only one who guessed the exact diagnosis. "As far as I can see，" she thought， "that's the same thing that happens to drunken people." But she not only rejected the idea， she reproached herself for the frivolity of her thought. Aure-liano Segun-do felt a twinge of conscience when he saw Meme's state of prostration and he promised himself to take better care of her in the future. That was how the relationship of jolly comradeship was born between father and daughter， which freed him for a time from the bitter solitude of his revels and freed her from Fernanda's watchful eye without necessity of provoking the domestic crisis that seemed inevitable by then. At that time Aureli-ano Segun-do postponed any appointments in order to be Meme， to take her to the movies or the circus， and he spent the greater part of his idle time with her. In recent times his annoyance with the absurd obesity that prevented him from tying his shoes and his abusive satisfaction with all manner of appetites had began to sour his character. The discovery of his daughter restored his former joviality and the pleasure of being was slowly leading him away from dissipation. Meme was entering a fruitful age. She was not beautiful， as Amaranta had never been， but on the other hand she was pleasant， uncomplicated， and she had the virtue of making a good impression on people from the first moment. She had a modem spirit that wounded the antiquated sobriety and poorly disguised miserly heart of Fernanda， and that， on the other hand， Aureli-ano Segun-do took pleasure in developing. It was he who resolved to take her out of the bedroom she had occupied since childhood， where the fearful eyes of the saints still fed her adolescent terrors， and he furnished for her a room with a royal bed， a large dressing table， velvet curtains， not realizing that he was producing a second version of Petra Cotes's room. He was so lavish with Meme that he did not even know how much money he gave her because she herself would take it out of his pockets， and he kept abreast every kind of new beauty aid that arrived in the commissary of the banana company. Meme's room became filled with pumice-stone cushions to polish her nails with， hair curlers， tooth-brushes， drops to make her eyes languid， and so many and such new cosmetics and artifacts beauty that every time Fernanda went into the room she was scan-dalized by the idea that her daughter's dressing table must have been the same as those of the French ma-trons. Nevertheless Fernanda divided her time in those days between little Amaranta úrsula， who was mischievous and sickly， and a touching correspondence with the invisible physicians. So that when she noticed the complicity between father and daughter the only promise she extracted from Aureli-ano Segun-do was that he would never take Meme to Petra Cotes's house. It was a meaningless demand because the concubine was so annoyed with the comradeship between her lover and his daughter that she did not want anything to do with her. Petra was tormented by an unknown fear， as if instinct were telling her that Meme， by just wanting it， could succeed in what Fernanda had been unable to do: deprive her of a love that by then she considered assured until death. For the first time Aureli-ano Segun-do had to tolerate the harsh expressions and the violent tirades of his concubine， and he was even afraid that his wandering trunks would make the return journey to his wife's house. That did not happen. No one knew a man better than Petra Cotes knew her lover and she knew that the trunks would remain where they had been sent because if Aureli-ano Segun-do detested anything it was complicating his life with modifications and changes. So the trunks stayed where they were and Petra Cotes set about reconquering the husband by sharpening the only weapons that his daughter could not use on him. It too was an unnecessary effort because Meme had no desire to intervene in her father's affairs and if she had， it would certainly have been in favor of the concubine. She had no time to bother anybody. She herself swept her room made her bed， as the nuns had taught her. In the morning she took care of her clothes， sewing on the porch or using Amaranta's old pedal machine. While the others were taking their siestas she would practice the clavichord for two hours， knowing that the daily sacrifice would keep Fernanda calm. For the same reason she continued giving concerts at church fairs school parties， even though the requests were less and less frequent. At nightfall she would fix herself up， put on one of her simple dresses and her stiff high shoes， and if she had nothing to do with her father she would go to the homes of her girl friends， where she would stay until dinnertime. It was rare that Aureli-ano Segun-do would not call for her then to take her to the movies.

It might have been aid that peace and happiness reigned for a long time in the tired mansion of the Buendías if it had not been for the sudden death of Amaranta， which caused a new uproar. It was an unexpected event. Although she was old isolated from everyone， she still looked firm and upright and with the health of a rock that she had always had. No one knew her thoughts since the afternoon on which she had given Colonel Geri-neldo Márquez his final rejection shut herself up to weep. She was not seen to cry during the ascension to heaven of Remedios the Beauty or over the extermination of the Aureli-anos or the death of Colonel Aureli-ano Buendía， who was the person she loved most in this world， although she showed it only when they found his body under the chestnut tree. She helped pick up the body. She dressed him in his soldier's uniform， shaved him， combed his hair， and waxed his mustache better than he had ever done in his days of glory. No one thought that there was any love in that act because they were accustomed to the familiarity of Amaranta with the rites of death. Fernanda was scandalized that she did not understand the relationship of Catholicism with life but only its relationship with death， as if it were not a religion but a compendium of funeral conventions. Amaranta was too wrapped up in the eggplant patch of her memories to understand those subtle apologetics. She had reached old age with all of her nostalgias intact. When she listened to the waltzes of Pietro Crespi she felt the same desire to weep that she had had in adolescence， as if time and harsh lessons had meant nothing. The rolls of music that she herself had thrown into the trash with the pretext that they had rotted from dampness kept spinning and playing in her memory. She had tried to sink them into the swampy passion that she allowed herself with her nephew Aureli-ano José and she tried to take refuge in the calm and virile protection of Colonel Geri-neldo Márquez， but she had not been able to overcome them， not even with the most desperate act of her old age when she would bathe the small José Arcadio three years before he was sent to the seminary caress him not as a grandmother would have done with a grandchild， but as a woman would have done with a man， as it was said that the French matrons did and as she had wanted to do with Pietro Crespi at the age of twelve， fourteen， when she saw him in his dancing tights and with the magic wand with which he kept time to the metronome. At times It pained her to have let that outpouring of misery follow its course， and at times it made so angry that she would prick her fingers with the needles， but what pained her most and enraged her most and made her most bitter was the fragrant and wormy guava grove of love that was dragging her toward death. Just as Colonel Aureli-ano Buendía thought about his war， unable to avoid it， so Amaranta thought about Rebeca. But while her brother had managed to sterilize his memories， she had only managed to make hers more scalding. The only thing that she asked of God for many years was that he would not visit on her the punishment of dying before Rebeca. Every time she passed by her house and noted the progress of destruction she took comfort in the idea that God was listening to her. One afternoon， when she was sewing on the porch， she was assailed by the certainty that she would be sitting in that place， in the same position， and under the same light when they brought her the news of Rebeca's death. She sat down to wait for it， as one waits for a letter， and the fact was that at one time she would pull off buttons to sew them on again so that inactivity would not make the wait longer and more anxious. No one in the house realized that at that time Amaranta was sewing a fine shroud for Rebeca. Later on， when Aureli-ano Triste told how he had seen her changed into an apparition leathery skin and a few golden threads on her skull， Amaranta was not surprised because the specter described was exactly what she had been imagining for some time. She had decided to restore Rebeca's corpse， to disguise with paraffin the damage to her face and make a wig for her from the hair of the saints. She would manufacture a beautiful corpse， with the linen shroud and a plush--lined coffin with purple trim. and she would put it at the disposition of the worms splendid funeral ceremonies. She worked out the plan with such hatred that it made her tremble to think about the scheme， which she would have carried out in exactly the same way if it had been done out love， but she would not allow herself to become upset by the confusion and went on perfecting the details so minutely that she came to be more than a specialist and was a virtuoso in the rites of death. The only thing that she did not keep In mind in her fearsome plan was that in spite of her pleas to God she might die before Rebeca. That was， in fact， what happened. At the final moment， however， Amaran-ta did not feel frustrated， but on the contrary， free of all bitterness because death had awarded her the privi-lege of announcing itself several years ahead of time. She saw it on one burning afternoon sewing with her on the porch a short time after Meme had left for school. She saw it because it was a woman dressed in blue with long hair， with a sort of antiquated look， a certain resemblance to Pilar Ternera during the time when she had helped with the chores in the kitchen. Fernanda was present several times and did not see her， in spite of the fact that she was so real， so human， and on one occasion asked of Amaranta the favor of thread-ing a needle. Death did not tell her when she was going to die or whether her hour was assigned before that of Rebeca， but ordered her to begin sewing her own shroud on the next sixth of April. She was authorized to make it as complicated and as fine as she wanted， but just as honestly executed as Rebeca's， and she was told that she would die without pain， fear， or bitterness at dusk on the day that she finished it. Trying to waste the most time possible， Amaranta ordered some rough flax and spun the thread herself. She did it so carefully that the work alone took four years. Then she started the sewing. As she got closer to the unavoidable end she began to understand that only a miracle would allow her to prolong the work past Rebeca's death， but the very concentration gave her the calmness that she needed to accept the idea of frustration. It was then that she understood the vicious circle of Colonel Aureli-ano Buendía's little gold fishes. The world was reduced to the surface of her skin and her inner self was safe from all bitterness. It pained her not to have had that revelation many years before when it had still been possible to purify memories and reconstruct the universe under a new light and evoke without trembling Pietro Crespi's smell of lavender at dusk and rescue Rebeca from her slough of misery， not out of hatred or out of love but because of the measureless understanding of solitude. The hatred that she noticed one night in Memes words did not upset because it was directed at her， but she felt the repetition of another adolescence that seemed as clean as hers must have seemed and that， however， was already tainted with rancor. But by then her acceptance of her fate was so deep that she was not even upset by the certainty that all possibilities of rectification were closed to her. Her only objective was to finish the shroud. Instead slowing it down with useless detail as she had done in the beginning， she speeded up the work. One week before she calculated that she would take the last stitch on the night February 4， and without revealing the motives， she suggested to Meme that she move up a clavichord concert that she had arranged for the day after， but the girl paid no attention to her. Amaranta then looked for a way to delay for forty-eight hours， and she even thought that death was giving her her way because on the night of February fourth a storm caused a breakdown at the power plant. But on the following day， at eight in the morning， she took the last stitch in the most beautiful piece of work that any woman had ever finished， and she announced without the least bit of dramatics that she was going to die at dusk. She not only told the family but the whole town， because Amaranta had conceived of the idea that she could make up for a life of meanness with one last favor to the world， and she thought that no one was in a better position to take letters to the dead.

The news that Amaranta Buendía was sailing at dusk carrying the mail of death spread throughout Macon-do before noon， and at three in the afternoon there was a whole carton full of letters in the parlor. Those who did not want to write gave Amaranta verbal messages， which she wrote down in a notebook with the name and date of death of the recipient. "Don't worry，" she told the senders. "The first thing I'll do when I get there is to ask for him and give him your message." It was farcical. Amaranta did not show any upset or the slightest sign of grief， and she even looked a bit rejuvenated by a duty accomplished. She was as straight and as thin as ever. If it had not been for her hardened cheekbones and a few missing teeth， she would have looked much younger than she really was. She herself arranged for them to put the letters in a box sealed with pitch and told them to place it in her grave in a way best to protect it from the dampness. In the morning she had a carpenter called who took her measurements for the coffin as she stood in the parlor， as if it were for a new dress. She showed such vigor in her last hours that Fernanda thought she was making fun of everyone. úrsula， with the experience that Buendías died without any illness， did not doubt at all that Amaranta had received an omen of death， but in any case she was tormented by the fear that with the business of the letters and the anxiety of the senders for them to arrive quickly they would bury her alive in their confusion. So she set about clearing out the house， arguing with the intruders as she shouted at them， and by four in the afternoon she was successful. At that time Amaranta had finished dividing her things among the poor had left on the severe coffin of unfinished boards only the change of clothing and the simple cloth slippers that she would wear in death. She did not neglect that precaution because she remembered that when Colonel Aureli-ano Buendía died they had to buy a pair of new shoes for him because all he had left were the bedroom slippers that he wore in the workshop. A little before five Aureli-ano Segun-do came to fetch Meme for the concert and was surprised that the house was prepared for the funeral. if anyone seemed alive at the moment it was the serene Amaranta， who had even had enough time to cut corns. Aureli-ano Segun-do and Meme took leave of her with mocking farewells and promised that on the following Saturday they would have a big resurrection party. Drawn by the public talk that Amaranta Buendía was receiving letters for the dead， Father Antonio Isabel arrived at five o'clock for the last rites and he had to wait for more than fifteen minutes for the recipient to come out of her bath. When he saw her appear in a madapollam nightshirt and with her hair loose over her shoulders， the decrepit parish priest thought that it was a trick and sent the altar boy away. He thought however， that he would take advantage of the occasion to have Amaranta confess after twenty years of reticence. Amaranta answered simply that she did not need spiritual help of any kind because her conscience was clean. Fernanda was scandalized. Without caring that people could hear her she asked herself aloud what horrible sin Amaranta had committed to make her prefer an impious death to the shame confession. Thereupon Amaranta lay down and made úrsula give public testimony as to her virginity.

"Let no one have any illusions，" she shouted so that Fernanda would hear her. "Amaranta Buendía is leaving this world just as she came into it.

She did not get up again. Lying on cushions， as if she really were ill， she braided her long hair and rolled it about her ears as death had told her it should be on her bier. Then she asked úrsula for a mirror and for the first time in more than forty years she saw her face， devastated by age and martyrdom， and she was surprised at how much she resembled the mental image that she had of herself. úrsula understood by the silence in the bedroom that it had begun to grow dark.

"Say goodbye to Fernanda，" she begged her. One minute of reconciliation is worth more than a whole life of friendship."

"It's of no use now，" Amaranta replied.

Meme could not help thinking about her when they turned on the lights on the improvised stage and she began the second part of the program. In the middle of the piece someone whispered the news in her ear and the session stopped. When he arrived home， Aureli-ano Segun-do had to push his way through the crowd to see the corpse of the aged virgin， ugly and discolored， with the black bandage on her hand and wrapped in the magnificent shroud. She was laid out in the parlor beside the box of letters.

"Come here，" she told her. "Now that were alone， confess to this poor old woman what's bothering you."

Meme avoided the conversation with a short laugh. úrsula did not insist， but she ended up confirming her suspicions when Meme did not come back to visit her. She knew that she was getting up earlier than usual， that she did not have a moment's rest as she waited for the time for her to go out， that she spent whole nights walking back and forth in the adjoining bedroom， and that the fluttering of a butterfly would bother her. On one occasion she said that she was going to see Aureli-ano Segun-do and úrsula was surprised that Fernanda's imagination was so limited when her husband came to the house looking for his daughter. It was too obvious that Meme was involved in secret matters， in pressing matters， in repressed anxieties long before the night that Fernanda upset the house because she caught her kissing a man in the movies.

Meme was so wrapped up in herself at that time that she accused úrsula of having told on her. Actually， she told on herself. For a long time she had been leaving a trail that would have awakened the most drowsy person and it took Fernanda so long to discover it because she too was befogged， by her relationship with the invisible doctors. Even so she finally noticed the deep silences， the sudden outbursts， the changes in mood， and the contradictions of her daughter. She set about on a disguised but implacable vigilance. She let her go out with her girl friends as always， she helped her get dressed for the Saturday parties， and she never asked an embarrassing question that might arouse her. She already had a great deal of proof that Meme was doing different things from what she said， and yet she would give no indication of her suspicions， hoping for the right moment. One night Meme said that she was going to the movies with her father. A short time later Fernanda heard the fireworks of the debauch and the unmistakable accordion of Aureli-ano Segun-do from the direction of Petra Cotes's place. Then she got dressed， went to the movie theater， and in the darkness of the seats she recognized her daughter. The upsetting feeling of certainty stopped her from seeing the man she was kissing， but she managed to hear his tremulous voice in the midst of the deafening shouts and laughter of the audience. "I'm sorry， love，" she heard him say， and she took Meme out of the place without saying a word to her， put her through the shame of parading her along the noisy Street of the Turks， and locked her up in her bedroom.

On the following day at six in the afternoon， Fernanda recognized the voice of the man who came to call on her. He was young， sallow， with dark and melancholy eyes which would not have startled her so much if she had known the gypsies， and a dreamy air that to any woman with a heart less rigid would have been enough to make her understand her daughter's motives. He was wearing a shabby linen suit with shoes that showed the desperate defense of superimposed patches of white zinc， and in his hand he was carrying a straw hat he had bought the Saturday before. In all of his life he could never have been as frightened as at that moment， but he had a dignity and presence that spared him from humiliation and a genuine elegance that was defeated only by tarnished hands and nails that had been shattered by rough work. Fernanda， however， needed only one look to guess his status of mechanic. She saw that he was wearing his one Sunday suit and that underneath his shirt he bore the rash of the banana company. She would not let him speak. She would not even let him come through the door， which a moment later she had to close because the house was filled with yellow butterflies.

"Go away，" she told him. "You've got no reason to come calling on any decent person."

"I came to see the new models，" Meme said.

"That's a fine excuse，" he said.

Meme realized that he was burning in the heat of his pride， and she desperately looked for a way to humiliate him. But he would not give her any time. "Don't get upset，" he said to her in a low voice. "It's not the first time that a woman has gone crazy over a man." She felt so defeated that she left the garage without seeing the new models and she spent the night turning over in bed and weeping with indignation. The American redhead， who was really beginning to interest her， looked like a baby in diapers. It was then that she realized that the yellow butterflies preceded the appearances of Mauricio Babilonia. She had seen them before， especially over the garage， and she had thought that they were drawn by the smell of paint. Once she had seen them fluttering about her head before she went into the movies. But when Mauricio Babilonia began to pursue her like a ghost that only she could identify in the crowd， she understood that the butterflies had something to do with him. Mauricio Babilonia was always in the audience at the concerts， at the movies， at high mass， and she did not have to see him to know that he was there， because the butterflies were always there. Once Aureli-ano Segun-do became so impatient with the suffocating fluttering that she felt the impulse to confide her secret to him as she had promised， but instinct told her that he would laugh as usual and say: "What would your mother say if she found out?" One morning， while she was pruning the roses， Fernanda let out a cry of fright and had Meme taken away from the spot where she was， which was the same place in the garden where Remedios the Beauty had gone up to heaven. She had thought for an instant that the miracle was going to be repeated with her daughter， because she had been bothered by a sudden flapping of wings. It was the butterflies. Meme saw them as if they had suddenly been born out of the light and her heart gave a turn. At that moment Mauricio Babilonia came in with a package that according to what he said， was a present from Patricia Brown. Meme swallowed her blush， absorbed tribulation， even managed a natural smile as she asked him the favor of leaving it on the railing because her hands were dirty from the garden. The only thing that Fernanda noted in the man whom a few months later she was to expel from the house without remembering where she had seen him was the bilious texture of his skin.

"He's a very strange man，" Fernanda said. "You can see in his face that he's going to die."

Meme thought that her mother had been impressed by the butterflies When they finished pruning the row bushes she washed her hands and took the package to her bedroom to open it. It was a kind of Chinese toy， made up of five concentric boxes， and in the last one there was a card laboriously inscribed by someone who could barely write: We'll get together Saturday at the movies. Meme felt with an aftershock that the box had been on the railing for a long time within reach of Fernanda's curiosity， and although she was flattered by the audacity and ingenuity of Mauricio Babilonia， she was moved by his Innocence in expecting that she would keep the date. Meme knew at that time that Aureli-ano Segun-do had an appointment on Saturday night. Nevertheless， the fire of anxiety burned her so much during the course of the week that on Saturday she convinced her father to leave her alone in the theater and come back for her after the show. A nocturnal butterfly fluttered about her head while the lights were on. And then it happened. When the lights went out， Mauricio Babilonia sat down beside her. Meme felt herself splashing in a bog of hesitation from which she could only be rescued， as had occurred in her dreams， by that man smelling of grease whom she could barely see in the shadows.

"If you hadn't come，" he said， "You never would have seen me again."

Meme felt the weight of his hand on her knee and she knew that they were both arriving at the other side of abandonment at that instant.

"What shocks me about you，" she said， smiling， "is that you always say exactly what you shouldn't be saying."

She lost her mind over him. She could not sleep and she lost her appetite and sank so deeply into solitude that even her father became an annoyance. She worked out an intricate web of false dates to throw Fernanda off the track， lost sight of her girl friends， leaped over conventions to be with Mauricio Babilonia at any time and at any place. At first his crudeness bothered her. The first time that they were alone on the deserted fields behind the garage he pulled her mercilessly into an animal state that left her exhausted. It took her time to realize that it was also a form of tenderness and it was then that she lost her calm lived only for him， upset by the desire to sink into his stupefying odor of grease washed off by lye. A short time before the death of Amaranta she suddenly stumbled into in open space of lucidity within the madness and she trembled before the uncertainty of the future. Then she heard about a woman who made predictions from cards and went to see her in secret. It was Pilar Ternera. As soon as Pilar saw her come in she was aware of Meme's hidden motives. "Sit down，" she told her. "I don't need cards to tell the future of a Buendía，" Meme did not know and never would that the centenarian witch was her great--grandmother. Nor would she have believed it after the aggressive realism with which she revealed to her that the anxiety of falling in love could not find repose except in bed. It was the same point view as Mauricio Babilonia's， but Meme resisted believing it because underneath it all she imagined that it had been inspired by the poor judgment a mechanic. She thought then that love on one side was defeating love on the other， because it was characteristic of men to deny hunger once their appetites were satisfied. Pilar Ternera not only cleared up that mistake， she also offered the old canopied bed where she had conceived Arcadio， Meme's grandfather， and where afterward she conceived Aureli-ano José. She also taught her how to avoid an unwanted conception by means the evaporation of mustard plasters and gave her recipes for potions that in cases of trouble could expel "even the remorse of conscience." That interview instilled In Meme the same feeling of bravery that she had felt on the drunken evening. Amaranta's death， however， obliged her to postpone the decision. While the nine nights lasted she did not once leave the side of Mauricio Babilonia， who mingled with the crowd that invaded the house. Then came the long period of mourning and the obligatory withdrawal and they separated for a time. Those were days of such inner agitation， such irrepressible anxiety， and so many repressed urges that on the first evening that Meme was able to get out she went straight to Pilar Ternera's. She surrendered to Mauricio Babilonia， without resistance， without shyness， without formalities， and with a vocation that was so fluid and an intuition that was so wise that a more suspicious man than hers would have confused them with obvious experience. They made love twice a week for more than three months， protected by the innocent complicity of Aureli-ano Segun-do， who believed without suspicion in his daughter's alibis simply in order to set her free from her mother's rigidity.

On the night that Fernanda surprised them in the movies Aureli-ano Segun-do felt weighted down by the burden of his conscience and he visited Meme in the bedroom where Fernanda kept her locked up， trusting that she would reveal to him the confidences that she owed him. But Meme denied everything. She was so sure of herself， so anchored in her solitude that Aureli-ano Segun-do had the impression that no link existed between them anymore， that the comradeship and the complicity were nothing but an illusion of the past. He thought of speaking to Mauricio Babilonia， thinking that his authority as his former boss would make him desist from his plans， but Petra Cotes convinced him that it was a woman's business， so he was left floating in a limbo of indecision， barely sustained by the hope that the confinement would put an end to his daughter's troubles.

梅梅的最后一次暑假正碰上奥雷连诺上校的丧期。在门窗遮得严严实实的房子里，现在无法狂欢作乐了。大家都轻言细语他说话，默不吭声地进餐，每天祈祷三次，甚至午休炎热时刻的钢琴乐曲听起来也象送葬曲了。严格的服丧是菲兰达亲自规定的；尽管她怀恨奥雷连诺上校，但是政府悼念这个死敌的隆重程度也震动了她。象女儿往常度假时那样，奥雷连诺第二是在家中过夜的；菲兰达显然恢复了她跟丈夫同床共寝的合法权利，因为梅梅下一年回来的时候，看见了出生不久的小妹妹；同菲兰达的愿望相悖，这小姑娘取了阿玛兰塔.乌苏娜这个名字。

梅梅结束了自己的学业。她在毕业典礼上出色地演奏了十六世纪的民间乐曲之后，证明她为“音乐会钢琴手”的毕业文凭就一致通过了，家中的丧期也就终止了。除了梅梅精湛的演奏技术，客人们更惊叹的是她那不寻常的双重表现。她那有点孩子气的轻浮性格，似乎使她不能去做任何正经的事，但她一坐在钢琴面前就完全变了样，突然象个大人那么成熟了。她经常都是如此。其实，梅梅并没有特殊的音乐才能，但她不愿违拗母亲，就拼命想在钢琴演奏上达到高超的境地。不过，如果让她学习别的东西，她也会同样成功的。梅梅从小就讨厌菲兰达的严峻态度，讨厌母亲包办代替的习惯，但只要跟顽固的母亲下发生冲突，她是准备作出更大牺牲的。这姑娘在毕业典礼上感到，印上哥特字（注：黑体字）和装饰字（注：通常是大写字母）的毕业文凭，仿佛使她摆脱了自己承担的义务（她承担这种义务不是由于服从，而是为了自己的宁静），以为从现在起甚至执拗的菲兰达也不会再想到乐器了，因为修女们自己已经把它叫做“博物馆的老古董”。最初几年，梅梅觉得自己的想法错了，因为，在家庭招待会上，在募捐音乐会上，在学校晚会上，在爱国庆祝会匕尽管她的钢琴乐曲已把半个市镇的人弄得昏昏沉沉，菲兰达仍然继续把一些陌生人邀到家里，只要她认为这些人能够赏识女儿的才能。阿玛兰塔死后，生家暂时又陷入丧事的时候，梅梅才锁上钢琴，把钥匙藏在一个橱柜里，免得母亲什么时候找到它，并且被她丢失。但是在这以前，梅梅象学习弹琴时那样，坚毅地公开显示自己的天才。她以此换得自己的自由。菲兰达喜欢女儿的恭顺态度，对女儿的技艺引起的普遍赞赏感到自豪，以致毫不反对梅梅把女友们聚到家里，或者去种植园游玩，或者跟奥雷连诺第二以及值得信任的女人去看电影，只要影片是安东尼奥.伊萨贝尔神父在讲坛上赞许过的。在娱乐活动中，梅梅表现了真正的兴趣。她觉得愉快的事情是跟陈规旧俗毫无关系的：她喜欢热闹的社交聚会；喜欢跟女友们长时间坐在僻静的角落里，瞎聊谁爱上了椎；学抽香烟，闲谈男人的事；有一次甚至喝了三瓶罗木酒（注：甘蔗酿造的烈性酒），然后脱光衣服，拿她们的身体各部进行较量。梅梅永远不会忘记那个夜晚：菲兰达和阿玛兰塔在饭厅里默不作声地吃晚饭时，她嚼着一块甘蔗糖走了进来，就在桌边坐下，谁也没有发现她的反常状态。在这之前，梅梅在女朋友的卧室里度过了可怕的两小时，又哭又笑，吓得直叫，可是“危机”过去之后，她突然觉得自己有了一股勇气，有了这种勇气，她就能够从寺院学校跑回家里，随便向母亲说，她能拿钢琴当作消化剂了。她坐在桌子顶头，喝着鸡汤，这汤好象起死回生的神水流到她的肚里。梅梅忽然看见菲兰达和阿玛兰塔头上出现一个表示惩罚的光环。她勉强忍住没有咒骂她们的假仁假义、精神空虚以及她们对“伟大”的荒谬幻想。梅梅还在第二个暑假期间就已知道，父亲住在家中只是为了装装门面。她熟悉菲兰达，而且想稍迟一些见见佩特娜.柯特。她认为她的父亲是对的，她宁愿把他的情妇当做母亲。在醉酒的状态中，梅梅怡然白得地想到，如果她把自己的想法说了出来，马上就会发生一出丑剧；她暗中的调皮和高兴是那么不平常，终于被菲兰达发现了。

“你怎么啦？”菲兰达问。

“没啥，”梅梅回答。“我现在才明白，我多么喜爱你们两个啊。”

这句话里显然的憎恨使得阿玛兰塔吃了一惊。然而，梅梅半夜醒来，脑袋剧痛，开始呕吐，菲兰达却急得差点儿发疯了。菲兰达让女儿喝了一整瓶蓖麻油，给她的肚子贴上敷布，在她的头上放置冰袋，连续五天不准她出门，给她吃有点古怪的法国医生规定的饮食，经过两个多小时对梅梅的检查，医生得出了含糊的结论，说她患了一般的妇女病。梅梅失去了勇气，懊丧已极，在这种可怜的状态中，除了忍耐，毫无办法。乌苏娜已经完全瞎了，可是依然活跃和敏锐，她是凭直觉唯一作出正确诊断的。“我看，”她对自己说，“这是喝醉了，但她立即撇开了这种想法，甚至责备自己轻率，奥雷连诺第二发现梅梅的颓丧情绪时，受到良心的谴责，答应将来更多地关心她。父女之间愉快的伙伴关系由此产生，这种关系暂时使他摆脱了狂饮作乐中苦恼的孤独，而让她脱离了菲兰达令人厌恶的照顾，似乎防止了梅和母亲之间已经难免的冲突。在那些日子里，奥雷连诺第二把大部分空闲时间都用在女儿身上，毫不犹豫地推迟任何约会，只想跟女儿度过夜晚，带她去电影院或杂技场。在最近几年中，奥雷连诺第二脾气变坏了，原因是他过度的肥胖使他无法自己系鞋带，无法象以前那样满足自己的各种欲望。奥雷连诺第二得到女儿以后，恢复了以往的快活劲儿，而他跟她在一起的乐趣逐渐使他放弃了放荡的生活方式。梅梅象春天的树木似的开花了。她并不美，就象阿玛兰塔从来不美一样，但她外貌可爱、作风朴实，人家乍一看就会喜欢她，她的现代精神伤害了菲兰达守旧的中庸思想和欲盖弥彰的冷酷心肠，可是奥雷连诺第二却喜欢这种精神，竭力加以鼓励。奥雷连诺第二把梅梅拉出她从小居住的卧窒（卧室里的圣像吓人的眼睛仍然使她感到孩子的恐惧）；他在女儿的新房间里放了一张华丽的床和一个大梳妆台，挂上了丝绒窗帘，但是没有意识到他在复制佩特娜.柯特的卧室。他很慷慨，甚至不知道自己给了梅梅多少钱，因为钱是她从他衣袋里自己拿的。奥雷连诺第二供给了女儿各种新的美容物品，只要是能在香蕉公司的商店里弄到的。梅梅的卧室摆满了指甲磨石、烫发夹、洁牙剂①、媚限水②，还有其他许多新的化妆品和美容器具；菲兰达每次走愈①使牙齿光洁的药剂。② 使眼睛显得懒洋洋的眼药水。这个房间就觉得恼怒，以为女儿的梳妆台大概就是法国艺妓的那种玩意。然而，当时菲兰达正全神贯注地关心淘气和病弱的阿玛兰塔. 乌苏娜，并且跟没有见过的医生进行动人的通信。因此，她发现父女之间的串通时，只要求奥雷连诺第二决不把梅悔带到佩特娜.柯特家里去。这个要求是多余的，因为佩特娜．柯特已经嫉妒她的情人和他女儿的友谊，甚到听都不愿听到梅梅的名字了。奥雷连诺第二的情妇有一种至今莫名其妙的恐惧，仿佛本能暗示她，梅悔只要愿意，就能做到菲兰达无法做到的事：使佩特娜.柯特失去似乎至死都有保障的爱情。于是，在在情妇家里，奥雷连诺第二看见了凶狠的眼神，听到了恶毒的嘲笑——他甚至担心他那流动衣箱不得不撤回妻子家里。可是事儿没到这个地步，任何人了解另一个人，都不如佩特哪．柯特了解自己的情人！她知道衣箱还会留在原处的，因为奥雷连诺第二最讨厌的事情，就是变来变去而把生活搞得十分复杂。因此，衣箱就留在原地了，佩特娜.柯特开始用自己唯一的武器夺回了情人，而这种武器是他的女儿不能用在他身上的。佩特娜.例特也白费了力气，因为梅梅从来不想干预父亲的事情，即使她这么做，也只有利于佩特娜．柯特。梅悔是没有时间来打扰别人的。每天，她象修女们教她的，自己收拾卧室和床铺，早上都琢磨自己的衣服——在长廊上刺绣，或者在阿玛兰塔的旧式手摇机上缝纫。在别人饭后午睡时，她就练两小时钢琴，知道自己每天牺牲午睡继续练琴可使菲兰达安心。出于同样的想法，她继续在教堂义卖会和学校集会上演奏，尽管她接到的邀请越来越少，傍晚，她都穿上一件普通的衣服和系带的高腹皮鞋，如果不跟父亲到哪儿去，就上女朋友家里，在那儿呆到晚餐的时候。可是奥雷连诺第二经常都来找她，带她去看电影。

在梅梅的女朋友当中，有三个年轻的美国姑娘，她们都是钻出“电气化养鸡场”，跟马孔多姑娘们交上朋友的。其中一个美国姑娘是帕特里西娅.布劳恩。为了感谢奥雷连诺第二的好客精神，布劳恩先生向梅梅敞开了自己的家、邀请她参加礼拜大的跳舞晚会，这是外国人和本地人混在一起的唯一场合。菲兰达知道了这种邀请，就暂时忘了阿玛兰塔.乌苏娜和没有见过的医生，变得激动不安起来。“你只消想一想，”她向梅梅说。“上校在坟墓里对这件事会有啥想法呀。”菲兰达当然寻求乌苏娜的支持。可是出乎每个人的预料，瞎老太婆认为，如果姑娘保持坚定的信仰，不去皈依基督教，那么，参加跳舞会啦，结交年岁相同的美国姑娘啦，都是没有什么可以指摘的。梅梅十分理解高祖母的意思，舞会之后的第二天，她总比平常更早地起床，去做弥撒。菲兰达仍然采取反对立场，直到有一天女儿说，美国人希望听听她弹钢琴，菲兰达才不反对了，钢琴再一次搬出宅子，送到布劳恩先生家中，年轻的女音乐家在那儿得到了最真诚的鼓掌和最热烈的祝贺；嗣后，他们不仅邀她参加舞会，还邀她参加星期天的游泳会，而且每周请她去吃一次午饭。梅梅学会了游泳（象个职业游泳运动员似的）、打网球、吃弗吉尼亚火腿加几片菠萝的便餐。在跳舞、游泳以及打网球的时候，她不知不觉地学会了英语。奥雷连诺第二对女儿的进步十分高兴，甚至从一个流动商人那儿给她买了六卷附有许多插图的英国百科全书，梅梅空闲下来就拿它来读。读书占据了她的身心，她就不去跟女友们呆在僻静的地方瞎谈情场纠葛了，但这不是因为她认为自己有读书的责任，而是因为她已毫无兴趣去议论全镇皆知的那些秘密了。现在她想起前次的酪酊大醉，就觉得那是孩子的胡闹，是可笑的；她向奥雷连诺第二谈起它来，他更觉得可笑。 “如果你母亲知道就好啦！......”他笑得喘呼呼他说。只要儿女向他但白什么事儿，他总是这么说。他得到了女儿向他同样坦率谈谈初恋的许诺以后，梅梅恨快就告诉他，她喜欢一个美国小伙子，他是来马孔多跟他父母一块儿度假的。“原来是这么一个小家伙！”奥雷连诺第二笑着说。“如果你母亲知道就好啦！......”可是梅梅接着又告诉他，那小队子回国了，杏无踪影了。梅梅成熟的头脑帮助巩固了家庭的和睦关系。渐渐地，奥雷连诺第二又经常去佩特娜.柯特那儿了。尽管大宴宾客已经不象从前那样使他身心愉快，但他仍不放过消闲取乐的机会，从套子里取出了手风琴；手风琴的几个琴键现在是用鞋带系上的。在这个家庭里，阿玛兰塔没完没了地缝她的殓衣，而老朽的乌苏娜却呆在黑暗的深处，她从那儿唯一还能看见的就是栗树下面霍.阿.布恩蒂亚的幽灵，菲兰达巩固了自己的权力，她每月寄给儿子的信，这时已经没有一行假话，她隐瞒霍.阿卡蒂奥的只是她跟没有见过的医生的通信，那些医生断定她息了大肠良性肿瘤，准备让她接受心灵感应术（注：一种迷信）的治疗。

已经可以说，在饱经沧桑的布恩蒂亚家中，长时间是一片和平安乐的气氛，然而阿玛兰塔的碎然死亡引起了新的混乱。这是一件没有料到的事情。阿玛兰塔已经老了，孤身独处，但还显得结实、笔挺，象以往那样特别健康。自从那一天她最终拒绝了格林列尔多.马克斯上校的求婚，她就呆在房间里痛哭，惟也不知道她想些什么。当她走出卧室的时候，她的泪水已经永远于了。俏姑娘雷麦黛丝升天之后，十六个奥雷连诺惨遭杀害之后，奥雷连诺上校去世之后，她都没有哭过；这个上校是她在世上最喜爱的人，尽管大家在栗树下面发现他的尸体时，她才表露了对他的爱。她帮着从地上抬起他的尸体。她给他穿上军服，梳理头发，修饰面容，把他的胡了捻卷得比他自己在荣耀时捻卷得还好。谁也不觉得她的行动中有什么爱，因为大家一贯认为她熟悉丧葬礼仪。菲兰达生气地说，阿玛兰塔不明白天主教和生的关系，只看见它和死的关系，仿佛天主教不是宗教，而是一整套丧葬礼仪。可是阿玛兰塔沉湎在往事的回忆里，没有听到菲兰达为天主教奥妙的辩护。阿玛兰塔已到老年，可是过去的悲痛记忆犹新。她听到皮埃特罗.克列斯比的华尔兹舞曲时，就象从前青年时代那样想哭，仿佛时光和痛苦的经历没有给她什么教训。尽管她借口说录音带在潮湿中腐烂了，亲手把它们扔在垃圾堆里了，可是它们仍在她的记忆里转动播放。她曾想把它们淹没在她川侄儿的肮脏的恋情里（她曾让自己迷于这种恋情），而且曾想人格林列尔多上校男性的庇护下躲开它们，可是即使借助老年时最恶劣的行为，她也摆脱不了那些录音带的魔力：在把年轻的霍.阿卡蒂奥送往神学院的前三年，有一次她给他洗澡，曾抚摸过他，不象祖母抚摸孙子，而象女人抚摸男人，也象传说的法国艺妓那种做法，还象她十二－－十四岁时打算抚摸皮埃特岁.克列斯比那样；当时他穿首紧绷绷的跳舞裤儿站在她面前，挥舞魔杖跟节拍器合着拍子。阿玛兰塔有时难过的是，她身后留下了一大堆病苦，有时她又觉得那么恼怒，甚至拿针扎自己的手指，然而最使她苦恼、悲哀和发狂的却是芬芳的、满是虫子的爱情花圃，是这个花圃使她走向死亡的。就象奥雷连诺上校不能不想到战争一样，阿玛兰塔不能下想到雷贝卡。不过，如果说奥雷连诺上校能够冲淡自己的回忆，阿玛兰塔却更加强了自己的回忆。在许多年中，她唯一祈求上帝的，是不要让她在雷贝卡之前受到死亡的惩罚。每一次，她经过雷贝卡的住所时，看见它越来越破败，就高兴地以为上帝听从了她的要求。有一次在长廊上缝衣服的时候，她忽然深信自己将坐在这个地方，坐在同样的位置上，在同样的阳光下，等候雷贝卡的死讯。从那时起，阿玛兰塔就坐着等待，有时——这是完全真的——甚至扯掉衣服上的钮扣，然后又把它们缝上，以免无所事事的等待显得长久和难熬。家中谁也没有料到，阿玛兰塔那时是在为雷贝卡缝制讲究的殓衣。后来奥雷连诺.特里斯特说，雷贝卡已经变成一个幽灵，皮肤皱巴巴的，脑壳上有几根黄头发，阿玛兰塔对此并不觉得惊异，因为他所描绘的幽灵正是她早就想象到的，阿玛兰塔决定拾掇雷贝卡的尸体，在她脸上损毁的地方涂上石蜡，拿圣像的头发给她做假发。阿玛兰塔打算塑造一个漂亮的尸体，裹上亚麻布殓衣，放进棺材，悄材外面蒙上长毛绒，里面讨上紫色布，由壮观的丧葬队伍送给虫子去受用。阿玛兰塔痛恨地拟定自己的计划时突然想到，如果她爱雷贝卡，也会这么干的。这种想法使阿玛兰塔不寒而栗，但她没有气馁，继续把计划的一切细节考虑得更加完善，很快就不仅成了一名尸体整容专家，而已成了丧葬礼仪的行家。在这可怕的计划中，她没想到的只有一点：尽管她向上帝祈求，但她可能死在雷贝卡之前。事情果然如此。但在最后一分钟，阿玛兰塔感到自己并没有绝望，相反地，她没有任何悲哀，因为死神优待她，几年前就顶先告诉了她结局的临近。在把梅梅送往修道院学校之后不久，她在一个炎热的响午就看见了死神；列神跟她一块儿坐在长廊上缝衣服她立刻认出了死神；这死神没什么可怕，不过是个穿着蓝衣服的女人，头发挺长，模样古板，有点儿象帮助乌苏娜干些厨房杂活时的皮拉.苔列娜。菲兰达也有几次跟阿玛兰塔一起坐在长廊上，但她没有看见死神，虽然死神是那么真切，象人一样，有一次甚至请阿玛兰塔替她穿针引线。死神井没有说阿玛兰塔哪年哪月哪天会死，她的时刻会不会早于雷贝卡，死神只是要她从下一个月 ——四月六日起开始给自己缝硷衣，容许她把殓衣缝得象自己希望的那么奇妙和漂亮，但要象给雷贝卡缝殓衣时那么认真，随后死神又说，阿玛兰塔将在硷衣缝完的那天夜里死去，没有痛苦，没有忧伤和恐惧。阿玛兰塔打算尽量多花一些时间，选购了上等麻纱，开始自己织布。单是织布就花了四年的工夫，然后就动手缝制了，越接近难免的结局，她就越明白，只有奇迹能够让她把殓衣的缝制拖到雷贝卡死亡之后，但是经常聚精会神地干活使她得到了平静，帮助她容忍了希望破灭的想法。正是这个时候，她懂得了奥雷连诺上校制作小金鱼的恶性循环的意义。现在对她来说，外部世界就是她的身体表面，她的内心是没有任何痛苦的。她遗憾的是许多年前没有发现这一点，当时还能清除回忆中的肮脏东西，改变整个世界：毫不战栗地回忆黄昏时分皮埃特罗.克列斯比身上发出的黛衣草香味，把雷贝卡从悲惨的境地中搭救出来，——不是出于爱，也不是由于恨，而是因为深切理解她的孤独，有一天晚上，她在梅梅话里感到的憎恨曾使她吃了一惊，倒不是因为这种憎恨是针对她的，而是因为她觉得这姑娘的青年时代和她以前一样虽是纯洁的，但已沾染了憎恨别人的坏习气。可她感到现在已经没有痛改前非的可能，也就满不在乎了，听从命董的摆布了。她唯一操心的是缝完殓衣。她不象开头那样千方百计延缓工作，而是加快进度。距离工作结束还剩一个星期的时候，她估计二月四号晚上将缝最后一针，于是并没说明原因，就劝梅梅推迟原定五号举行的钢琴音乐会，可是梅梅不听她的劝告。接着，阿玛兰塔开始寻找继续拖延四十八小时的办法，甚至认为死神迎合了她的愿望，因为二月四号晚上暴风雨把发电站破坏了。但是，第二天早上八点，阿玛兰塔仍在世间最漂亮的硷衣上缝了最后一针，泰然自若他说她晚上就要死了。这一点，她不仅告诉全家，而且告诉全镇，因她以为，最终为人们做一件好事就能弥补自己一生的悭吝，而最适合这个目的的就是帮助人家捎信给死人。

阿玛兰塔傍晚就要起锚，带着信件航行到死人国去，这个消息还在晌午之前就传遍了整个马孔多；下午三点，客厅里已经立着一口装满了信件的箱子，不愿提笔的人就让阿玛兰塔传递口信，她把它们都记在笔记本里，并且写上收信人的姓名及其死亡的日期。“甭担心，”她安慰发信的人。“我到达那儿要做的第一件事就是找到他，把您的信转交给他。”这一切象是一出滑稽戏。阿玛兰塔没有任何明显的不安，也没有任何悲伤的迹象，由于承担了捎信的任务，她甚至显得年轻了。她象往常那样笔挺、匀称，如果不是脸颊凹陷、缺了几颗门牙，她看上去比自己的岁数年轻得多。她亲自指挥别人把信投入箱子，用树脂把箱子封上，并且说明如何将箱子放进坟墓才能较好地防止潮湿。早上，她叫来一个木匠，当他给她量棺材尺寸的时候，她却泰然地站着，仿佛他准备给她量衣服。在最后的时刻里，她还有那么充沛的精力，以致菲兰达产生了疑心：阿玛兰塔说自己要死是不是跟大家寻开心？乌苏娜知道布恩蒂亚家的人通常部是无病死亡的，所以相信阿玛兰塔确实得到了死亡的预兆，但在捎信的事情上，乌苏娜担心的是癫狂的发信人渴望信件快点儿到达，在忙乱中把她女儿活活地埋掉。因此，乌苏娜跟刚进屋子的人争争吵吵，下午四点就把他们都撵出去了。这时，阿玛兰塔已把自己的东西分发给了穷人，只在简陋、粗糙的木板棺材上留下了一身衣服和一双没有后跟的普通布鞋，这双鞋子是她死时要穿的。她所所以没有忽略鞋子，是她想起自己在奥雷连诺去世时曾给他买了一双新皮鞋，因他只有一双在作坊里穿的家常便鞋。五点之前不久，奥雷连诺第二来叫梅梅去参加音乐会时，对家中的丧葬气氛感到十分惊讶。这时，如果说谁象活人，那就是安详的阿玛兰塔，她镇静自若，甚至还有时间来割自己的鸡眼。奥雷连诺第二和梅梅戏谑地跟她告别，答应下个星期六举行一次庆祝她复活的盛大酒宴，五点钟，安东尼奥.伊萨贝尔神父听说阿玛兰塔正在收集捎给死人的信，前来为她举行最后一次圣餐仪式，在临死的人走出浴室之前，他不得不等候了二十多分钟，她穿着印度白布衬衫，头发披在肩上，出现在衰老的教区神父面前，他以为这是个鬼把戏，就把拿着圣餐的小厮打发走了。但他仍然决定利用这个机会听取阿玛兰塔的祈祷，因为她几乎二十年拒绝祈祷了。阿玛兰塔直截了当地说，她不需要任何精神上的帮助，因为她的心地是纯洁的。菲兰达对此很不痛快。她不顾人家可能听见她的话，大声地自言自语，阿玛兰塔宁愿要亵读神灵的死亡，而不要忏悔，这是多大的罪恶啊！然后阿玛兰塔躺下，让乌苏娜当众证明她的贞洁。

“让谁也不要乱想，”她大声叫嚷，使菲兰达能够听见。“阿玛兰塔如何来到这个世界，就如何离开这个世界。”

阿玛兰塔再也没有起床。她象病人似地躺在枕上，把长发编成辫子，放在耳边，——是死神要她这样躺进棺材的。然后，阿玛兰塔要求鸟苏娜拿来一面镜子，四十多年来第一次看见了岁月和苦难毁掉的自己的面孔；她觉得奇怪的是，这副面孔跟她想象的完全一样。乌苏娜根据卧室中逐渐出现的寂静，知道天色开始黑了。

“向菲兰达告别吧，”乌苏娜要求阿玛兰塔，“重新合好的一分钟，比友好的一生还宝贵啊！”

“现在这没用处了，”阿玛兰塔回答。

临时搭成的台子上重新灯火通明，第二部分节目开始的时候，梅梅仍然不能不想到阿玛兰塔。她正演奏一支曲子，有人在她耳边低声地报告了噩耗，音乐会就停止了，奥雷连诺第二走进屋子，不得不挤过人群，才能瞧见老处女的尸体：她显得苍白难看，手上缠着黑色绷带，身子裹着漂亮的殓衣，棺材停放在客厅里，旁边是一箱信件。经过九夜的守灵，鸟苏娜再也不能起床了。圣索菲怀。德拉佩德照顾她，把饮食和洗脸水给她拿进卧室，将马孔多发生的一切事情告诉她。奥雷连诺第二常来看望鸟苏娜，给她各式各样的衣服，她都把它们放在床边，跟其它许多最必需的生活用品混在一“起，很快在伸手就能摸到的距离内建立了一个世界。她得到：” 小姑娘阿玛兰塔；乌苏娜的爱，小姑娘一切都象她，她教小姑娘读书识字，现在，甚至谁也没有猎到鸟苏娜完全瞎了，虽然大家都知道她视力不好；她那清醒的头脑以及无需旁人照顾的本领，只是使人想到百岁的高龄压倒了她。这时，乌苏娜有了那么多的空闲时间，内心又那么平静，就能注意家中的生活了，囵此她第一个发现了梅梅闷不吱声的苦恼。“到这儿来吧，”鸟苏娜向小姑娘说。“现在，只有咱俩在一块儿，你就向可怜的老太婆但白说说你的心事吧。”

梅悔羞涩地笑了一声，避免交谈，鸟苏娜没有坚持。可是梅悔不再来看望她时，她的疑心就更大了。乌苏娜知道，梅梅现在起床比往常都早，一分钟也坐不住，等候可以溜出家门的时刻，而且通育部在邻室的床上辗转反侧，房间里总有一只飞舞的蝴蝶妨碍她睡觉。有一次梅梅说她要去看看父亲，乌苏娜就对菲兰达的头脑迟钝感到惊异了，虽然在这之后不久，奥雷连诺第二自己就来找她的女儿。十分显然，梅梅很久以来就在千什么秘密勾当，有什么焦急的事，直到有一天晚上，菲兰达发现梅梅在电影院里跟一个男人接吻，终于把整个家庭闹翻了天。

梅梅心里难过，以为乌苏娜出卖了她，其实是她出卖了自己。她早就留下了一连串痕迹，甚至能够引起瞎子的怀疑。如果说菲兰达过了那么久才发现这些痕迹，只是因为她在全神贯注地跟没有见过的医生秘密通信。但是菲兰达终于看出，女儿时而长久沉默，时而突然发抖，时而情绪骤变，脾气暴跺了。菲兰达开始不断地秘密观察梅梅。她照旧让女儿跟女友们外出，帮她穿上星期六晚会的衣服，一次也没向她提出可能使她警觉的难堪的问题，菲兰达已有不少证据，梅梅所做的跟她所说的不同，可是母亲为了等待决定性的罪证，仍然没有表露自己的怀疑，有一夭晚上，梅梅说她要跟父亲去看电影。没过多久，菲兰达就听到了佩特娜.柯特家的方向传来了鞭炮的噼啪声和奥雷连诺第二手风琴的声音，他的手风琴跟其他任何人的手风琴都是混同不了的，于是她穿上衣服，到电影院去，在池座前几排的昏暗中认出了自己的女儿。由于怀疑得到证实，菲兰达感到震惊，她还来不及看清跟梅梅接吻的男人，就在观众震耳欲聋的叫声和笑声中听出了他那颤抖的声音。“很抱歉，亲爱的，”菲兰达一听，二话没说，立刻把梅梅拖出池座，羞愧地拉着她经过熙熙攘攘的土耳其人街，把她关在她的卧室里。

次日下午六时，有个人来拜访菲兰达，她听出了他的声音。这人年纪挺轻，脸色发黄，如果菲兰达以前见过吉卜赛人，他那悒郁的黑眼睛是不会叫她那么吃惊的：任何一个心肠不硬的妇女，只要看见这人脸上那副恍惚的神情，都能理解梅梅的动机。客人穿着破旧的亚麻布衣服和皮鞋，为了使皮鞋象个样子，他在鞋上拼命涂了几层锌白，但是锌白已经出现了裂纹；他手里拿着上星州六买的一顶草帽。在他的一生中，他从来不象现在这么畏缩，但他态度尊严，镇定自若，这就使他没有丢脸。在他身上可以感到一种天生的高尚气度——只有一双手肮里肮脏，他干