世紀文學經典:《百年孤獨》第18章Part4
It was impossible to conceive of a man more like his mother. He was wearing a somber taffeta suit, a shirt with a round and hard collar, and a thin silk ribbon tied in a bow in place of a necktie. He was ruddy and languid with a startled look and weak lips. His black hair, shiny and smooth, parted in the middle of his head by a straight and tired line, had the same artificial appearance as the hair on the saints. The shadow of a well-uprooted beard on his paraffin face looked like a question of conscience. His hands were pale, with green veins and fingers that were like parasites, and he wore a solid gold ring with a round sunflower opal on his left index finger. When he opened the street door Aureliano did not have to be told who he was to realize that he came from far away. With his steps the house filled up with the fragrance of the toilet water that ?rsula used to splash on him when he was a child in order to find him in the shadows, in some way impossible to ascertain, after so many years of absence. Jos Arcadio was still an autumnal child, terribly sad and solitary. He went directly to his mother’s bedroom, where Aureliano had boiled mercury for four months in his grandfather’s grandfather’s water pipe to conserve the body according to Melquíades?formula. Jos?Arcadio did not ask him any questions. He kissed the corpse on the forehead and withdrew from under her skirt the pocket of casing which contained three as yet unused pessaries and the key to her cabinet. He did everything with direct and decisive movements, in contrast to his languid look. From the cabinet he took a small damascene chest with the family crest and found on the inside, which was perfumed with sandalwood, the long letter in which Fernanda unburdened her heart of the numerous truths that she had hidden from him. He read it standing up, avidly but without anxiety, and at the third page he stopped and examined Aureliano with a look of second recognition.
“So,?he said with a voice with a touch of razor in it, “You’re the bastard.?
“I’m Aureliano Buendía.?
想不到這個兒子格外象他的母親。霍。 阿卡蒂奧穿着黑塔夫綢的西服，襯衫領子又硬又圓，一條打着花結的緞帶代替了領帶。這是個臉色蒼白、神情倦怠的人，露出一種詫異的目光，長着一個柔弱的嘴巴，光滑的黑髮從中分開，紋路又直又細，這頭聖徒的假髮顯示出矯揉造作的樣子。他的面孔象石膏一樣白，颳得千乾淨淨的下頦留着一塊塊有點發青的陰影，似乎說明良心的譴責，他有一雙青筋畢露、蒼白浮腫的手——遊手好閒者的手，左手無名指上嵌着圓形乳白色寶石的大戒指耀人眼目。奧雷連諾·布恩蒂亞給他開門以後，一眼就看出站在他面前的是從遠方來的人。他走過哪兒，哪兒就留下花露水的香味，在奧雷連諾·布恩蒂亞還是個嬰兒的時候，烏蘇娜爲了在雙目失明的黑暗中找到他，也曾給他灑過這種花露水。不知怎的，多年不見，霍·阿卡蒂奧依然象從前一樣，是個悒鬱孤僻的小老頭兒。他徑直走進母親的臥室，在這間臥室裏，奧雷連諾。 布恩蒂亞按照梅爾加德斯的處方，在屬於他祖父的曾祖父的那隻坩堝裏，整整熬了四個月的水銀，才使菲蘭達的屍體沒有腐爛。霍·阿卡蒂奧什麼也沒問。他俯身在已故的菲蘭達額頭上吻了一下，便從她那裙子的貼身口袋裏掏出三隻還沒用過的宮託、一把衣櫥鑰匙。他那堅定利索的動作跟他那倦怠的神情實在不相稱。他從衣櫥裏翻出那隻刻着族徽的首飾箱，首飾箱是用一塊綢子裹着的，透出檀香木的芬芳，他隨手把它打開——只見箱底上放着一封長信；在這封信裏，菲蘭達傾訴了自己的衷腸，講述了生前瞞着兒子的一切。霍·阿卡蒂奧站着，饒有興昧地讀完母親的信，沒有露出任何激動情緒；
他在第三頁上停頓了一下，就擡起頭來，目不轉睛地望着奧雷連諾·布恩蒂亞，彷彿剛認識他似的。
“這麼說，”他開口道，嗓音裏有點刮鬍子的響聲。“你就是雜種羅？”
“我是奧雷連諾·布恩蒂亞。”
