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canals, clearing away rapids, and even harnessing waterfalls. “I know all of this by heart,?2rsula 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, Jos?Arcadio Segundo 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 Macondo, who no longer remembered the colossal undertakings of Jos?
Arcadio Buendaa, ran to the riverbank and saw with 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, Jos?Arcadio Segundo 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,world of warcraft gold, with 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 Jos?Arcadio Segundo was able to bring to Macondo, 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 well-being 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 Macondo into delirium for three days and whose
only lasting consequence was having given Aureliano Segundo the opportunity to meet Fernanda del Carpio.
Remedios the Beauty was proclaimed queen. 2rsula, 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,runescape power leveling, attracted by the
magical fascination of Remedios the Beauty. He was so handsome, so elegant and dignified, with such presence,cheap mabinogi money,
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 Macondo. He appeared at
dawn on Sunday like a prince in a fairy tale, riding a horse with silver stirrups and a velvet blanket,maple mesos, 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

maiden whose skin was beginning to grow sad did not have a moments?rest until she felt slip in under her
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mosquito netting that sleepwalker whom she had raised, not thinking that he would be a palliative for her
solitude. Later they not only slept together, naked, exchanging exhausting caresses,daoc power leveling, but they would also chase
each other into the corners of the house and shut themselves up in the bedrooms at any hour of the day in a
permanent state of unrelieved excitement. They were almost discovered by 2rsula one afternoon when she went
into the granary as they were starting to kiss. “Do you love your aunt a lot??she asked Aureliano Jos?in an
innocent way. He answered that he did. “That’s good of you,?2rsula concluded and finished measuring the flour
for the bread and returned to the kitchen. That episode drew Amaranta out of her delirium. She realized that she
had gone too far, that she was no longer playing kissing games with a child, but was floundering about in an
autumnal passion,world of warcraft gold, one that was dangerous and had no future, and she cut it off with one stroke. Aureliano Jos?
who was then finishing his military training, finally woke up to reality and went to sleep in the barracks. On
Saturdays he would go with the soldiers to Catarino’s store. He was seeking consolation for his abrupt solitude,
for his premature adolescence with women who smelled of dead flowers, whom he idealized in the darkness and
changed into Amaranta by means of the anxious efforts of his imagination.
A short time later contradictory news of the war began to come in. While the government itself admitted the
progress of the rebellion, the officers in Macondo had confidential reports of the imminence of a negotiated
peace. Toward the first of April a special emissary identified himself to Colonel Gerineldo Mrquez. He
confirmed the fact to him that the leaders of the party had indeed established contact with the rebel leaders in the
interior and were on the verge of arranging an armistice in exchange for three cabinet posts for the Liberals, a
minority representation in the congress, and a general amnesty for rebels who laid down their arms. The emissary
brought a highly confidential order from Colonel Aureliano Buendaa, who was not in agreement with the terms
of the armistice. Colonel Gerineldo Mrquez was to choose five of his best men and prepare to leave the country
with them. The order would be carried out with the strictest secrecy. One week before the agreement was
announced, and in the midst of a storm of contradictory rumors, Colonel Aureliano Buendaa and ten trusted
officers,city of villains power leveling, among them Colonel Roque Carnicero, stealthily arrived in Macondo after midnight, dismissed the
garrison, buried their weapons, and destroyed their records. B y dawn they had left town, along with Colonel
Gerineldo Mrquez and his five officers. It was such a quick and secret operation that 2rsula did not find out
about it until the last moment, when someone tapped on her bedroom window and whispered, “If you want to see
Colonel Aureliano Buendaa,daoc power leveling, come to the door right now.?2rsula Jumped out of bed and went to the door in her
nightgown and she was just able to see the horsemen who were leaving town gallop off in a mute cloud of dust.
Only on the following day did she discover that Aureliano Jos?had gone with his father.
Ten days after a joint communiqu?by the government and the opposition announced the end of the war, there
was news of the first armed uprising of Colonel Aureliano Buendaa on the western border. His small and poorly
armed force was scattered in less than a week. But during that year, while Liberals and Conservatives tried to

masterpieces, and embroidered needlepoint peacocks, she waited for Pietro Crespi to be unable to bear the urges
of his heart and more. Her day came with the ill-fated October rains. Pietro Crespi took the sewing basket from
her lap and he told her,ro zeny, “We’ll get married next month.?Amaranta did not tremble at the contact with his icy
hands. She withdrew hers like a timid little animal and went back to her work.
“Don’t be simple, Crespi.?She smiled. “I wouldn’t marry you even if I were dead.?
Pietro Crespi lost control of himself. He wept shamelessly, almost breaking his fingers with desperation, but
he could not break her down. “Don’t waste your time,?was all that Amaranta said. “If you really love me so
much,tales of pirates gold, don’t set foot in this house again.?2rsula thought she would go mad with shame. Pietro Crespi exhausted
all manner of pleas. He went through incredible extremes of humiliation. He wept one whole afternoon in
2rsula’s lap and she would have sold her soul in order to comfort him. On rainy nights he could be seen
prowling about the house with an umbrella, waiting for a light in Amaranta’s bedroom. He was never better
dressed than at that time. His august head of a tormented emperor had acquired a strange air of grandeur. He
begged Amaranta’s friends, the ones who sewed with her on the porch, to try to persuade her. He neglected his
business. He would spend the day in the rear of the store writing wild notes, which he would send to Amaranta
with flower petals and dried butterflies, and which she would return unopened. He would shut himself up for
hours on end to play the zither. One night he sang. Macondo woke up in a kind of angelic stupor that was caused
by a zither that deserved more than this world and a voice that led one to believe that no other person on earth
could feel such love. Pietro Crespi then saw the lights go on in every window in town except that of Amaranta.
On November second, All Souls?Day, his brother opened the store and found all the lamps lighted, all the music
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boxes opened, and all the docks striking an interminable hour, and in the midst of that mad concert he found
Pietro Crespi at the desk in the rear with his wrists cut by a razor and his hands thrust into a basin of benzoin.
2rsula decreed that the wake would be in her house. Father Nicanor was against a religious ceremony and
burial in consecrated ground. 2rsula stood up to him. “In a way that neither you nor I can understand, that man
was a saint,?she said. “So I am going to bury him,world of warcraft gold, against your wishes, beside Melquaades?grave.?She did it with
the support of the whole town and with a magnificent funeral. Amaranta did not leave her bedroom. From her
bed she heard 2rsula’s weeping, the steps and whispers of the multitude that invaded the house, the wailing of
the mourners,rs gold, and then a deep silence that smelled of trampled flowers. For a long time she kept on smelling
Pietro Crespi’s lavender breath at dusk, but she had the strength not to succumb to delirium. 2rsula abandoned
her. She did not even raise her eyes to pity her on the afternoon when Amaranta went into the kitchen and put her
hand into the coals of the stove until it hurt her so much that she felt no more pain but instead smelled the
pestilence of her own singed flesh. It was a stupid cure for her remorse. For several days she went about the
house with her hand in a pot of egg whites, and when the burns healed it appeared as if the whites had also
scarred over the sores on her heart. The only external trace that the tragedy left was the bandage of black gauze
that she put on her burned hand and that she wore until her death.
Arcadio gave a rare display of generosity by decreeing official mourning for Pietro Crespi. 2rsula interpreted

little longer,?she said softly. Aureliano got undressed, tormented by shame, unable to get rid of the idea that-his
nakedness could not stand comparison with that of his brother. In spite of the girl’s efforts he felt more and more
indifferent and terribly alone. “I’ll throw in other twenty cents,?he said with a desolate voice. The girl thanked
him in silence. Her back was raw. Her skin was stuck to her ribs and her breathing was forced because of an
immeasurable exhaustion. Two years before,world of warcraft gold, far away from there, she had fallen asleep without putting out the
candle and had awakened surrounded by flames. The house where she lived with the grandmother who had
raised her was reduced to ashes. Since then her grandmother carried her from town to town, putting her to bed
for twenty cents in order to make up the value of the burned house. According to the girl’s calculations, she still
had ten years of seventy men per night, because she also had to pay the expenses of the trip and food for both of
them as well as the pay of the Indians who carried the rocking chair. When the matron knocked on the door the
second time, Aureliano left the room without having done anything, troubled by a desire to weep. That night he
could not sleep, thinking about the girl, with a mixture of desire and pity. He felt an irresistible need to love her
and protect her. At dawn, worn out by insomnia and fever, he made the calm decision to marry her in order to
free her from the despotism of her grandmother and to enjoy all the nights of satisfaction that she would give the
seventy men. But at ten o’clock in the morning, when he reached Catarino’s store, the girl had left town.
Time mitigated his mad proposal, but it aggravated his feelings of frustration. He took refuge in work. He
resigned himself to being a womanless man for all his life in order to hide the shame of his uselessness. In the
meantime, Melquaades had printed on his plates everything that was printable in Macondo, and he left the
daguerreotype laboratory to the fantasies of Jos?Arcadio Buendaa who had resolved to use it to obtain scientific
proof of the existence of God. Through a complicated process of superimposed exposures taken in different parts
of the house, he was sure that sooner or later he would get a daguerreotype of God, if He existed,maple story mesos, or put an end
once and for all to the supposition of His existence. Melquaades got deeper into his interpretations of
Nostradamus. He would stay up until very late,cheap star trek credits, suffocating in his faded velvet vest, scribbling with his tiny
sparrow hands, whose rings had lost the glow of former ti mes. One night he thought he had found a prediction of
the future of Macondo. It was to be a luminous city with great glass houses where there was no trace remaining
of the race of the Buendaa. “It’s a mistake,?Jos?Arcadio Buendaa thundered. “They won’t be houses of glass but
of ice, as I dreamed, and there will always be a Buendaa, per omnia secula seculorum.?2rsula fought to preserve
common sense in that extravagant house, having broadened her business of little candy animals with an oven that
went all night turning out baskets and more baskets of bread and a prodigious variety of puddings, meringues,
and cookies, which disappeared in a few hours on the roads winding through the swamp. She had reached an age
where she had a right to rest, but she was nonetheless more and more active. So busy was she in her prosperous
enterprises that one afternoon she looked distractedly toward the courtyard while the Indian woman helped her
sweeten the dough and she saw two unknown and beautiful adolescent girls doing frame embroidery in the light
of the sunset. They were Rebeca and Amaranta. As soon as they had taken off the mourning clothes for their
grandmother, which they wore with inflexible rigor for three years, their bright clothes seemed to have given
them a new place in the world. Rebeca, contrary to what might have been expected, was the more beautiful. She
had a light complexion, large and peaceful eyes, and magical hands that seemed to work out the design of the
embroidery with invisible threads. Amaranta, the younger, was somewhat graceless, but she had the natural
distinction, the inner tightness of her dead grandmother. Next to them, although he was already revealing the
physical drive of his father,sto credits, Arcadio looked like a child. He set about learning the art of silverwork with

there so as not to mistake the bed. He found it. He bumped against the ropes of the hammocks, which were lower
than he had suspected, and a man who had been snoring until then turned in his sleep and said in a kind of
delusion, “It was Wednesday.?When he pushed open the bedroom door, he could not prevent it from scraping
against the uneven floor. Suddenly, in the absolute darkness, he understood with a hopeless nostalgia that he was
completely disoriented. Sleeping in the narrow room were the mother, another daughter with her husband and
two children,9dragons gold, and the woman, who may not have been there. He could have guided himself by the smell if the
smell had not been all over the house, so devious and at the same time so definite, as it had always been on his
skin. He did not move for a long time, wondering in fright how he had ever got to that abyss of abandonment,
when a hand with all its fingers extended and feeling about in the darkness touched his face. He was not
surprised,world of warcraft gold, for without knowing, he had been expecting it. Then he gave himself over to that hand,aion kinah, and in a
terrible state of exhaustion he let himself be led to a shapeless place where his clothes were taken off and he was
heaved about like a sack of potatoes and thrown from one side to the other in a bottomless darkness in which his
arms were useless, where it no longer smelled of woman but of ammonia, and where he tried to remember her
face and found before him the face of 2rsula,conan gold, confusedly aware that he was doing something that for a very long
time he had wanted to do but that he had imagined could really never be done, not knowing what he was doing
because he did not know where his feet were or where his head was, or whose feet or whose head, and feeling
that he could no longer resist the glacial rumbling of his kidneys and the air of his intestines, and fear, and the
bewildered anxiety to flee and at the same time stay forever in that exasperated silence and that fearful solitude.
Her name was Pilar Ternera. She had been part of the exodus that ended with the founding of Macondo,
dragged along by her family in order to separate her from the man who had raped her at fourteen and had
continued to love her until she was twenty-two, but who never made up his mind to make the situation public
because he was a man apart. He promised to follow her to the ends of the earth, but only later on, when he put his
affairs in order, and she had become tired of waiting for him, always identifying him with the tall and short,
blond and brunet men that her cards promised from land and sea within three days, three months, or three years.
With her waiting she had lost the strength of her thighs, the firmness of her breasts, her habit of tenderness, but
she kept the madness of her heart intact. Maddened by that prodigious plaything, Jos?Arcadio followed her path
every night through the labyrinth of the room. On a certain occasion he found the door barred, and he knocked
several times, knowing that if he had the boldness to knock the first time he would have had to knock until the
last, and after an interminable wait she opened the door for him. During the day, lying down to dream, he would
secretly enjoy the memories of the night before. But when she came into the house, merry, indifferent, chatty, he
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did not have to make any effort to hide his tension, because that woman, whose explosive laugh frightened off
the doves, had nothing to do with the invisible power that taught him how to breathe from within and control his
heartbeats, and that had permitted him to understand why man are afraid of death. He was so wrapped up in
himself that he did not even understand the joy of everyone when his father and his brother aroused the