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霍乱时期的爱情|Love in the Time of Cholera

第三章|Chapter 3

属类： 双语小说 【分类】双语小说 -[作者: 加夫列尔-加西亚-马尔克斯] 阅读：[8303]
《 字+字- 行+行- 页+页- 字+字- 行+行- 页+页- 》
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二十八岁的乌尔比诺医生是最受青睐的单身汉。他在巴黎长期旅居后刚刚回来。

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在巴黎，他进修了内科和外科。从登岸开始，他就充分说明，没有虚度过一寸光阴。

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他比去的时候更加衣冠楚楚，更加自信。同窗学友中，没有第二个人在学术上象他那样一丝不苟和知识渊博，也没有第二个人在跳现代舞蹈或即兴演奏钢琴上比他更棒。他个人的才华和风度令人倾倒，他家里的财富令人羡慕，和他门当户对的姑娘们彼此暗自较劲儿，对他频送秋波，他也向她们投桃报李，但始终保持着洒脱，求越雷池而魅力犹存，直到妩媚迷人的费尔米纳使他一见钟情。

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他总是津津乐道地说，那次恋爱是误诊的结果。他自己也无法相信后来居然成了事实，尤其是发生在他一生中的那个时刻，发生在他把全部感情都倾注在他的城市命运上的时刻。他总是三句话不离本行，而且是脱口而出地说，世界上没有另外一座城市能同他的城市媲美。在巴黎，深秋季节他挽着邂逅相逢的情人的胳膊漫步，觉得再也找不到比那些金色的下午更纯真的幸福了，火盆里的栗子发出山野的清香，手风琴在忧郁地低吟，爱欲难填的情人们，在露天阳台上没完没了地你亲我吻。然而，他以手抚膺说，拿这一切来换加勒比四月里的一咧，他也不干。当时，他还太年轻，还不知道内心的记忆会把不好的东西抹掉，而把好的东西更加美化，正是因为这种功能，我们才对过去记忆犹新。可是，当他倚在轮船的栏杆上重新看到殖民地时期留下的老区那片白色的高地，看见鹤立在屋顶上的秃鹫，看见晾在阳台上的破衣烂衫的时候，也只有在这个时候，他心里才明白了，抑恶扬善的怀乡病，轻而易举地让他上了个大当。

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轮船缓缓穿过一片牲畜的浮尸驶进港湾，受不了那股恶臭，大部分旅客都躲进船舱里去了。年轻的医生沿着舷梯弃船登岸，他身穿合体熨贴的三套件驼绒西服，外罩一件长罩衣。脸上蓄的胡子，跟青年时代的帕斯托的一样，分头中间的线条，清晰而白净。他顾盼有度，堪堪盖住了那个虽非不忍卒睛却也令人望而生畏的领结。

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码头上几乎空无一人，几个没穿制服的赤脚大兵在值勤，他的两个妹妹、母亲和几个最亲密的朋友在等着接他。虽然他们欢天喜地，他还是觉得他们憔悴而毫无生气。

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他们谈到危机和内战的时候，仿佛是在谈某种遥远而不关痛痒的事情，但每个人都语辞闪烁，目光游移，言不由衷。最使他震动的是他的母亲，她原来是个品貌端庄而富有社交活力的风姿绰约的女人，曾在生活中大显身手，现在却穿了一身散发着樟脑味儿的经绸衣裳，一副。憔悴枯槁的寡妇模样。儿子的犹豫使她觉察到了自己容貌的变化，她以攻为守抢先问儿子为什么脸色象石蜡似的白里透青。

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“这是生活所致，母亲。”他说，“巴黎使人脸色发青。”

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后来，靠着母亲坐在关得严严实实的车子里的时候，他觉得热得透不过气来。

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车窗外一闪而过的一幕幕触目伤心的景象，使他再也无法忍受。大海恍若死灰，昔日的侯爵府第，差不多变成了一群群叫化子的栖身之所，沁人心脾的茉莉花香闻不到了，有的只是露天堆放的垃圾堆散发出来的恶臭。他觉得所有的东西都变得比他走的时候更窄小、更破旧、更凄惨了。街道上的粪便堆里，饥鼠成群，拉车的马也吓得犹豫不前。在从港口到他家这段漫长的路上，在总督区的中心地带，他没发现任何足以和他的乡思相称的东西。他看不下去了，把头扭向后面，免得被他母亲看见，无声的眼泪簌簌地滚落下来。

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古老的卡萨尔杜埃罗侯爵府，即乌尔维若?德?拉卡列家族世代居住的那幢邸宅，和周围那些劫后余生的房屋相比，也不是维护得最好的。乌尔比诺医生走进阴暗的前厅，看见内花园尘封的喷泉，银渐在无花的野草丛中乱爬时，心都碎了。他发现，在通向正厅的路上，那条围着铜栏杆的宽阔的台阶上，好些大理石已不翼而飞，剩下的也都破碎不全。他父亲，一位献身精神高于医术的外科医生，死于六年前那场使这个城市陷于灭顶之灾的亚洲霍乱，这幢房子的生气也随之消失。他母亲布兰卡太太，决心终身不除丧服，由于悲痛压抑，早已把亡夫在世时远近闻名的载歌载舞的晚会和家庭音乐会取消了，代之以下午举行的九日祭。他的两个妹妹，一反活泼的天性和对交际的喜好，变成了修女院的行尸走肉的修女。

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回家当晚，慑于黑暗和沉寂，乌尔比诺医生一宵没有入睡。从没有关严的门的缝隙里钻进来了一只石鸟，每打一点钟都在卧室里叫唤。他向圣灵念了三遍玫瑰经，还念了记忆所及的各种驱邪消灾以及保佑夜晚平安的各种经文。 从隔壁那个名叫“圣母”的疯人院里传来的疯女人的狂喊声，瓮里的水不紧不慢地滴到盆里的响彻各个角落的前喀声，在卧室里迷失了方向的那只石乌的长腿在地上的踱步声，以及他对黑暗的天生恐惧和亡父在这座沉睡中的空旷屋子里的阴魂，使他毛骨悚然。五点钟，那只石鸟和邻居的公鸡一起弓项啼鸣的时候，乌尔比诺医生双手合十乞求神圣的上帝保佑，他不敢再在已成废墟的家乡多呆一天了。然而，亲人们的疼爱，礼拜日的郊游，他那个阶层的未字闺秀们的表示渴慕的奉承，使他淡忘了第一天晚上的痛苦。 渐渐地， 他对十月里的闷热，对刺鼻的气味，对朋友们的幼稚见解，对“大夫，明儿见，甭担心”都习惯了，最后在习惯的魔力面前屈服了，很快他就对自己的回心转意找到了方便的答案。这里是他的天地，他对自己说，是上帝为他创造的悲惨而压抑的天地，应当随遇而安。

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他做的第一件事，是接管父亲的诊所。对那些英国家具，他原封未动。家具笨重而结实，上面的木头在黎明时的寒风中嘎嘎作响。但那些总督时期的学术机构和浪漫派医学机构签发的字据，他把它们通通搬到阁楼上去了，把法国新潮学校的文凭放进了玻璃框。除了一幅医生正在抢救一名裸体女病人的画像和一张用哥特式字体印的古希腊医生的座右铭之外，他把那些褪了色的图片都摘掉了，把自己在欧洲各个学校获得的许多各式各样的评语优良的文凭贴了上去，紧靠着他父亲那张仅有的文凭。

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他想在慈善医院推行新章法，但这并不象他所想象的那么容易，尽管这是发自年轻人的激情。这所陈旧的医院，顽固地坚持那些早已过时的迷信，比如把病床的腿儿放在盛着水的盆子里避免疾病爬上床，或者规定在手术室穿名牌衣服和戴羚羊皮手套，因为他们有个根深蒂固的信念：考究是无菌操作的基本条件。这位初来乍到的年轻人用尝尿的办法来确定尿里是否有糖，象称呼同窗学友似的提及查科特和图肖，在课堂上郑重警告牛痘有致人于死地的危险，却又对新发明的坐药相信到了令人怀疑的程度，这一切都让人受不了。他在各方面都同别人格格不入：他的改革精神，他的怪癖般的责任心，在一个人们到处都是风趣成撤的国家，他对诙谐反应迟钝。他那些实际上是他最难能可贵的美德都引起年长同事的妒忌和青年人油腔滑调的嘲笑。

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他最感到担忧的，是城里那种可怕的卫生条件。他在各个方面的最高当局之间奔走求助，建议把那些西班牙式的阴沟填掉，那是巨大的老鼠温床，代之以加盖的下水道；脏东西也不能象过去和现在那样泻进市场旁边的海湾里，而应运到远方某处的垃圾堆里去。设备齐全的殖民地时期的房屋有带粪坑的厕所，但拥挤在湖边容易窝棚里的人，却有三分之二是在露天便溺。粪便被太阳晒干，化作尘土，随着十二月凉爽宜人的微风，被大家兴冲冲地吸入体内。乌尔比诺医生曾试图在古堡里开办一个义务训练班，让穷人学会修建自备厕所。他曾一无所获地斗争过，禁止在树林里倒垃圾——千百年来，那里已经变成了藏垢纳污的渊源——他主张至少每周收集两次垃圾，拉到没人的地方去烧掉。

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他明白，饮水是个致命的危险。想修一条水管，简直成了痴人说梦，因为那些有能力促成这件事的人，都有自己的地下水池，厚厚的青苔下面，藏着多年储存的雨水。那个时期最值钱的家具之一，就是用刨光的木板做的水瓮，水瓮的石头漏嘴夜以继日地把水滴入水缸。为一了防止有人就着吸水的铝瓢喝水，瓢的边儿是锯齿形的，就象滑稽戏里的王冠一样。盛在若明若暗的陶罐里的水，显得又清又凉，还带有林间山泉的余味儿。但是。乌尔比诺医生并没有被这种自欺欺人的净化所迷惑，他心里清楚，虽然采取了种种防范措施，水瓮底部依然是蛆虫的草生之地。童年时候，为了消磨百无聊赖的时光，他带着近乎神秘的惊奇久久注视那些了了，跟当时许许多多人一样，他确信号了是精灵，是小妖，它们在静静的水底的泥沙里向小姑娘求爱，而且为了爱情，它们会进行疯狂的报复。小时候，他看见过一位名叫拉萨拉阿l德的女教师的房子被弄得支离破碎， 因为她斗胆得罪了精灵。他还看见过满街的碎玻璃片儿，为了破坏窗户，精灵们三天三夜运来了成堆的石头。很长时间，他对此信以为真，后来他从学习中知道了子了实际上就是蚊子的幼虫，不过一旦学会了，就永远也不会忘记，因为从那时候起他就发现，不仅是子了，还有许许多多害虫，都可以安然无恙地通过我们那些天真的石头滤嘴。

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在相当长的时间里，人们毕恭毕敬地认为，城里成千上万的男人不以为耻反以为荣地拖着的阴囊迹气，全是水池里的清水所赐。乌尔比诺在上小学的路上看见那些店气清人在赤日炎炎的下午坐在各自的家门口，用扇子给那跟一个在两腿中间睡着了的孩子一般大小的睾丸扇风的时候，总免不了有大祸临头的预感。据说，在风雨交加的夜晚，底气会发出不祥之鸟的叫声；如果在近处点燃一片兀鹰的羽毛，疯气就会使人痛得死去活来。然而，没有一个人因为这种倒霉事怨天尤人，因为硕大无朋的阴囊，是一种凌驾于一切之上的男人的骄傲。乌尔比诺医生从欧洲回来的时候，早已知道这些信仰是毫无科学根据的了，但是这些信仰在当地根深蒂固，不少人因为担心培养大阴囊的方法从此失传，反对在水池中增加矿特质。

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跟水质不纯一样，公共市场的卫生状况也令乌尔比诺医生感到担忧。市场是幽魂湾正面的一大片空地，安的列斯公司的帆船就停靠在幽魂湾里。当时的一位著名旅行家，把它描绘成了世界上最琳琅满目的市场之一。确实，市场物资丰富，品种繁多，热闹极了，但同时也许是最令人担心的。海浪忽东忽西地去而复来，海湾的潮汐把污水沟排进海里的垃圾又涌回地上，市场就躺在自个儿的粪便里。紧靠市场的那个屠宰场，也在那里倾倒脏东西，砍碎的脑袋，腐烂的内脏、牲口的粪便，静静地飘浮在血泊上，暴晒在阳光下。兀鹰、老鼠和狗，为争食挂在货棚房檐下面的鹿肉和美味可口的索塔文托阉鸡，还有那晾晒在席子上的阿尔霍纳早豆荚，没完没了地吵闹不休。乌尔比诺医生想整顿这个地方，提出把屠宰场迁走，修一个象他在巴塞罗那看到的古河道入海口那种玻璃圆顶的室内市场——那些市场里的食品，收拾得漂漂亮亮，干干净净，吃了都觉得可惜。然而，在他那些有地位的朋友中，就连对他最言听计从的也不同情他的狂想。他们是些这样的人：以自己的籍贯为骄傲，炫耀城市的历史功绩，它的文物的价值，它的英雄主义和施旋风光，浑浑噩噩。时光对城市的侵蚀，他们却视而不见，和他们相反，乌尔比诺医生则是以深切的爱和现实的眼光来看待城市的。

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“这座城市倒真是难得，”他说，“四百年来我们一直企图毁掉它，却至今没有达到目的。”

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然而，大祸临头了。传染性霍乱，在十一周内，创造了我国历史上的死亡记录，而这场霍乱的第一批牺牲者，就是猝然倒毙在市场的几处水坑里的。在此之前，有些地位显赫的人物死后在葬在教堂的墓地里的，与那些落落寡合的主教及教士会信徒为伴，另一些不是那么富的人，则葬在修道院的院子里。穷人们埋在殖民地公墓，公墓在一座迎风的小山上，一条污浊的水渠横在小山和城市中间，水渠上那道泥灰桥的拱形防雨顶盖上，有位未卜先知的市长下令刻上了这么一行字：“入此门者应将一切希望留在门外。”霍乱流行的头两周，公墓就已人满为患。尽管把许许多多不知姓名的显贵人物的枯骨迁进了万人坑，教堂里还是腾不出一个墓穴。没掩盖严实的墓穴里散发出来的水汽，使大教堂里的空气都变稀薄了，大教堂的门三年之中再也没打开过，直到费尔米纳在大弥撒上第一次遇到阿里萨的时候为止。第三周，圣克拉拉修女院的回廓上死尸都堆不下了。一直难到了杨树林里，后来只好把比杨树林大两倍的教堂大菜园改成公墓。在那里，人们挖成深葬墓穴，准备分三层堆理死人，草草安葬，不装棺材。然而，后来连这种办法也不得不放弃了，因为理满了死人的土地变成了一块海绵，一脚踩下去就渗出恶臭难闻的血水。于是，决定在离城市不到一西班牙里的那个名叫“上帝之手”的育肥牧场里掩埋死人，那个牧场后来被命名为“大同公墓”。

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自从发布发现霍乱的公告开始，每隔一刻钟。当地驻军营地的碉堡就鸣炮一响，昼夜如此。按民间的迷信说法，火药能辟邪。霍乱在黑人中间流传得最厉害，因为黑人最多，也最穷。不过，实际上霍乱并不管你是什么肤色和何种出身。同突然蔓延开来一样，霍乱又突然停止了，从来没弄清楚到底有多少人死于非命，这倒不是无法统计，而是因为我们最常见的美德之一就是对自己的不幸逆来顺受。

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马可奥雷略?乌尔比诺医生，即乌尔比诺医生的父亲，在那些不幸的日子里成了一位人民英雄，同时也是最引人注目的牺牲品。根据政府的决定，他亲自制订了抗病战略并亲自领导了抗病斗争。他自报奋勇干预一切社会事务，在瘟疫最猖獗的那些日子里，他成了凌驾一切的权威人士。几年之后，乌尔比诺医生在查阅那段历史的大事记时，证实他父亲的办法是仁慈重于科学，许多做法是和常理背道而弛的，在很大程度上为瘟疫横行起了推波助澜的作用。他怀着儿子对父亲的同情心证实了这一点——生活逐渐把儿子变成了父亲的父亲，破天荒第一次，他为在父亲铸成错误孤军奋战的时刻没有伴随在父亲周围而感到痛心。不过，他没有贬低父亲的功绩：勤勤恳恳，奋不顾身，尤其是他的孤胆，说明他对城市从飞来横祸中死而复生后人们奉献给他的丰厚的荣誉是当之无愧的。他的名字，理所当然地同其它并不那么光彩的战争中曾出现的不少英雄人物的名字排在了一起。

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父亲没有享受到他的荣耀。当他发现自己染上了他曾目睹并同情过的别人所患的绝症时，想都没想去徒劳无益地挣扎一番，而是与世隔绝，以免传染别人，他把自己反锁在慈善医院的一间后勤工作室里，对同事们的呼唤和亲人们的哀求充耳不闻，对走廓里地板上挤得满满的垂死挣扎的霍乱患者的撕心裂肺的哀号无动于衷，给妻子儿女们写了一封表露对他们的火热的爱和困活了一辈子而感谢上苍的信，信中抒发了他对生活的无比的接骨铭心的热爱。那是一封毫无掩饰的长达二十页的告别信，字迹越来越模糊，看得出他的病是越来越沉重，不必了解写这封信的是何许人就知道，落款署名是在生命的最后一息写上去的。根据他的要求，那具青灰色的遗体混杂着埋进了公墓，没让任何一个爱他的人看见。

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三天之后，乌尔比诺医生在巴黎收到了电报，当时他正在和朋友们共进晚餐。

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他提议于一杯香槟酒来纪念他的父亲。他说：“他是个好人。”过后他准会责备自己不成熟：为了不痛哭失声，他逃避现实。可是，三周后他收到了遗书的抄件，他向实际投降了。猛然间，那个他最先认识的人，把他抚养长大并教育成人的人，和他母亲同床共枕、结发三十又二年的人，然而又是仅仅因为羞于启齿而在写这封信之前从来没有向他表露过心声的人的形象，深刻地展示在他面前了。到那时为止，乌尔比诺医生及其一家，一直视死亡为发生在别人身上，发生在别人的父母身上，发生在旁人而不是自己的兄弟姐妹和丈夫妻子身上的灾难。他们一家是些新陈代谢缓慢的人，没看见他们变老、生病和死去，而是慢慢地在他们的时代烟消云散，变成回忆，变成另一个时代的云雾，直到被忘却。父亲的遗书，比报告噩耗的电报更狠地给了他当头一棒，使他确信人总是要死的。然而，他最早的记忆之一，可能是九岁，也可能是十一岁的时候的记忆，在某种程度上是从父亲身上看到的死亡的早临的信号。在一个雨蒙蒙的下午，他和父亲两人都呆在家里的办公室里，他用彩色粉笔在地板的瓷砖上画云雀和向日葵，父亲对着窗户的亮光看书，父亲身上的背心没有系如，衬衣袖口上扎着橡皮筋儿。突然，父亲停止了阅读，用一根一头镶着银抓手的老头乐抠背。因为够不着，父亲要儿子用小手的指甲帮他的忙，他照办了。

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奇怪的是，他觉得父亲让他抠的时候好象抠的不是自己的身体。抠完，父亲凄然笑着看着他的肩膀。

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“如果我现在就死了，”他说，“等你长到我现在这个年纪的时候都快记不得我了。”

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父亲说这句话，没有任何明显的理由，死亡天使在若明若暗的凉飓飓的办公室里飞了一会儿，又从窗户飞出去了，飞过的地方留下一缕羽毛，但小孩没有看见。

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从那时起，又过了二十多年，乌尔比诺医生很快就到他父亲那天下午的那个年纪了。

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他知道他随父亲长得一模一样，现在除了知道长得相象以外，他又惊恐地知道，他跟父亲一样，总是要见上帝的。

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霍乱曾经是个使他头痛的问题。除了在某个课外补习班上学到的一般常识外，他对霍乱知之不多，而且他觉得，三十年前在法国，包括巴黎，霍乱曾使十四万人丧命是不大可信的。可是父亲死后，他对各种各样的霍乱凡是能研究的都研究了，这几乎成了使他的良心得到安宁的赎罪行为。他师事过阿德连?普鲁斯特教授——那个时代最杰出的传染病专家、防疫线发明者、大文豪普鲁斯特的父亲。因此，当他踏上故乡的土地，从海上闻到市场的臭气以及看到污水沟里的老鼠和在街上的水坑里打滚的一丝不挂的孩子们时，不仅明白了为什么会发生那场不幸，而且确信不幸还将随时再次发生。

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没过多久，还不到一年，慈善医院的学生们请求他帮助免费诊断一个浑身出现奇怪的蓝颜色的病人。乌尔比诺医生在门口望见病人，就立刻认出了他的敌人。还算好，病人是三天前从库拉索乘船来的，而且自费到医院的外科看过门诊，可能没有传染给任何人。为了以防万一，乌尔比诺医生还是叫他的同事们别接触病人，并说服有关当局向各港口发出警报，找到了那只带有病毒的轻便船，对它进行隔离检疫。他还费尽唇舌，劝阻那位想发布戒严令并立即施行每隔一刻钟鸣炮一响这种治疗措施的军事长官。

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“把火药省下来，等自由党人来的时候再用吧。”他和颜悦色地对军事长官说，“我们已经不是处在中世纪时代了。”

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第四天，病人死去，死前一直在吐白色的颗粒状的东西，憋得透不过气来。然而虽然警钟长鸣，一连几周之内却没有再发现类似的病例。又过了不久，摘业日报》登载了有两个小孩在本市两个不同的地方死于霍乱的消息。经核实，其中那个男孩得的是一般痢疾，但另一个，那个女孩，则确实是被霍乱夺去了生命。她的父亲和三个兄弟姐妹都被隔离了，进行单独隔离检疫，对整个那个区也进行了严密的医务监视。三个小孩中有一个已经染上了霍乱，但很快就恢复了健康，危险过去之后，全家人都又返回了家园。三个月中，又发现了十一起霍乱病例，第五个月时，情况令人担忧地加剧了，但一年后，霍乱蔓延的险情已经排除。没有一个人怀疑，乌尔比诺医生的严格的卫生防范措施创造的奇迹，比他的充分宣传更有效。从那以后，直到进入本世纪很长一段时期，霍乱不仅成了我们市而且也成了几乎整个加勒比沿海地区和马格达莱纳河流域的常见病，但没有再度泛滥成灾，报警使政府更认真地采纳乌尔比诺医生的警告性建议。医学院把霍乱和黄热病定为必修课，人们也明白了给污水沟加盖和在离垃圾场较远的地方另修一座市场的紧迫性。不过，乌尔比诺医生并未为欢呼自己的胜利和维护自己的社会使命而分心，因为他自己当时已被征服了，心烦意乱，神魂颠倒，决心忘掉生活中其它的一切，用来换取费尔米纳的闪电般的爱情。

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不错，那是一次误诊带来的果实。他的一位同行朋友，认为在一位十八岁的女患者身上发现了霍乱预兆，要求乌尔比诺医生去为她诊断。担心霍乱可能闯进了老城的富人区——在此以前，所有的霍乱病例都是发生在贫民区，而且几乎都是在黑人身上。他当天下午就去了。遇到的情况却没有那么使他扫兴。那座笼罩在福音广场的扁桃树荫中的房子，从外表看跟殖民地时期的老区的其它房屋同样衰微破败，但室内却是富丽堂皇，美轮美英，仿佛是另一个时期的建筑。穿过门房，径直映入眼帘的是一个塞维利亚式的庭院，方方正正，刚用石灰刷得雪白，橙树繁花满枝，地面同墙上一样，贴的是细瓷方砖。看不见沟渠，却听得到流水淙淙，飞檐上摆着石竹盆景，斗拱上挂着珍禽鸟笼。最稀罕的是，在一个硕大无朋的鸟笼里，有三只兀鹰，它们一扇翅膀，整个院子就顿觉异香扑鼻。突然，几条用链子锁在家里某个角落的狗因闻到生人味儿开始吠叫起来，一声女人的娇斥，使它们的吠声嘎然而止。

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一大群猫从四面八方跳了出来，慑于那个威严的声音，又躲进了花丛中。顿时静悄悄的，透过鸟儿的扑腾声和石板底下的偏偏流水声，隐隐传来大海低沉的叹息、。

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乌尔比诺医生确信上帝就在眼前，不禁一阵颤栗。他想，在这种环境下，病毒是难以入侵的。他随着普拉西迪哑走过拱形走廓，走过当年杂乱无章的庭院和阿里萨第一次觑见费尔米纳的芳容的那个缝纫室的窗户，沿着新修的大理石台阶拾级而上，到了二楼，在女患者的房门外听候引见。然而，普拉西迪姐出来传了个口信：“小姐说您现在不能进去，因为她爸爸不在家。”

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按照女佣的吩咐，下午五点他再度前往，洛伦索?达萨亲自替他开了大门，领他进入女儿的闺房。诊断时，他坐在光线暗淡的角落里，两手交叉抱在胸前，竭力想控制急促的呼吸而终于徒劳。很难分辩当时到底是谁更觉拘谨，医生羞涩地用手抚摸病人，病人则裹在丝绸睡衣里谨守闺训，谁也没瞧谁的眼睛。他用一种万是自己的声音提问，她用颤抖的声音回答。两个人都留神着坐在旁边的老头子。末了，乌尔比诺让病人坐起来，十二分小心地把她的睡衣解开到腰部以上，未经触摸的隆起的奶座，鲜嫩的乳头，犹如一道闪电照亮了阴暗的闺房，她急忙把两臂抱在胸前遮住。医生沉着地把她的双臂移开，没有看她的眼睛，直接用耳朵进行听诊，先听胸口，然后又听了脊背。

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乌尔比诺医生总是说，他第一次看到这位终身伴侣的玉体时没产生丝毫邪念。

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他记得，那件天蓝色睡衣上绣有花边，那双眼睛喷着红焰，长长的秀发技散在肩头，但他忧心如焚的是，霍乱居然闯进老区，视线都模糊了，顾不上去注意含苞欲放的她的身上的许多妙处，一心在巡察病毒可能留下的蛛丝马迹。她呢，表白得更加一干二净：那位因霍乱而妇孺皆知的年轻医生，在她当时看来不过是个自顾自的学究而已。诊断的结论是，她得了因食物引起的肠胃感染，在家里治疗三天就可痊愈。

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证实了女儿没得霍乱病，洛伦索?达萨如释重负，把乌尔比诺医生一直送到车子跟前，付出了一个金比索的出诊费——对于专为富人看病的医生，这样的出诊费也无疑是太高了，不过告别的时候，老人还是露出了一副千恩万谢的表情。医生的姓氏使他眼花缘乱，他非但不掩饰这一点，而且还愿意想方设法在不那么正式的场合下有机会再同医生见面。

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事情本来到此告一段落。然而，第二周的礼拜二，不等邀请，也没预先通知，乌尔比诺医生又不适当地在下午三点钟登门拜访了。他身上那件白大褂，熨得平平整整，帽子也是白的，帽檐儿高高翻起。他站在窗户跟前，打个手势让费尔米纳过来。她当时正在缝纫室里，和两个女友一起上油画课。她把画板放在椅子上，跟着脚尖儿朝窗户走过来，免得长及脚踝的翻荷叶边裙子拖到地上。她头上戴着发箍，亮晶晶的宝石坠儿垂到脸旁，跟她的眼睛一样闪烁着清冷的光芒，全身上下，放射出一种冷漠的光彩。医生心里忖度：她在家里作画，为什么打扮得跟参加社交活动一样。他站在窗户外头给她号了脉息，观察她的舌苦，用铝压舌板检查她的咽喉，翻开眼皮检查，每做一个动作，都露出宽慰的表情。他不象第一次诊断时那么拘谨了，但她则更加矜持，因为她不知道他为什么不请自来地进行这次检查，他亲口说过如果不去请他，他就不再来了的呀。她想得还更多：她永远也不愿再见到他了。

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检查结束后，医生把压舌板放回装满器械和药瓶的手提箱，啪的一声关上盖子。

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“您就象一朵初开的玫瑰。”他说。

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“谢谢。”

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“再见。”他说，接着又前言不搭后语地背诵了一段托马斯的语录：“要记住，一切美好的东西，不管它是来自何处，都是来自圣灵，您喜欢音乐吗？”

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他发问的时候，脸上露出迷人的笑容，口气异乎寻常，但她脸上没有笑意。

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“这是什么意思？”她问。

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“音乐对健康至关重要。”他说。

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他对此是深信不疑的，但她很快就会明白，而且在她的有生之年都很明白，音乐这个话题，是他用以表示友谊的近乎神奇的方式，不过在当时，她还以为他在取笑她。另外，他们隔着窗户谈话时，那两个假装在画画的女友发出妹妹的窃笑，用画板掩住了睑，更使费尔米纳沉不住气。她生气了，砰地把窗户用力关上。医生看着镶花边的窗帘，手足无措，他想朝大门口走，却搞错了方向，心慌意乱地撞在关着香兀鹰的鸟笼上。香兀鹰发出一声流里流气的怪叫，惊慌地扇着翅膀，医生的衣服上立刻洒满了女人的馨香。洛伦索?达萨的爆炸般的声音，把他针在那儿了。

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“大夫，请等我一下。”

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他在楼上把这一切都看在眼里了，边扣衬衣的扣子边下楼梯。他脸色紫涨，午觉恶梦的情景还在他脑子里翻腾。医生竭力想掩饰尴尬的神色。

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“俄刚才对您的女儿说，她这会儿健康得就跟玫瑰似的。”

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“不错。”洛伦索?达萨说。“不过刺儿太多了。”

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他走到乌尔比诺医生跟前，没同他握手，却推开缝纫室的两扇窗户，粗暴地命令女儿：“过来向大夫道歉！”

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医生想插话阻拦，但洛伦索?达萨不容分辨地又说了一遍：“快过来。”她带着难言的苦衷，求助地看了两位女友一眼，反驳父亲说，她无歉可道，因为她关上窗户是防止太阳晒进屋里。乌尔比诺医生想说明，她的理由是对的，但洛伦索?达萨不肯收回成命。于是，气得脸色苍白的费尔米纳又走到窗户跟前，右脚向前迈了一步，指尖把裙子朝上一提，朝医生戏剧般地躬了躬身。

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“我心悦诚服地向您道歉，先生。”她说。

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乌尔比诺医生笑容可掬地学着她的样子还了一礼，摘下宽沿礼帽做了个剧场站席观众的滑稽动作，但没有得到他希望的宽恕的微笑。尔后，洛伦索?达萨请他到书房去喝咖啡，算是赔个不是。他愉快地接受了，借以表明他心中确实不存在任何芥蒂。

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实际上，乌尔比诺医生除了在斋戒时喝上一杯咖啡，平常是不喝的。除了在正式场合的晚宴上来杯葡萄酒，素常他也是不喝酒的。然而，他不仅喝了洛伦索?达萨端给他的咖啡，还喝了一杯茵香酒。过了一会儿，又喝了一杯咖啡，一杯首香酒，接着又各样来了一杯，虽然他还有几个出诊待办。起初，他还注意听着洛伦索?达萨代表女儿一个劲儿地道歉——说他的女儿是个聪明而正派的姑娘，配得上当地或任何地方的王子，唯一的不足，用他的话来说，是那倔强的脾气。可是，喝完第二杯酒以后，他似乎听见了费尔米纳在庭院深处说话的声音，他想象自己正跟在她的后面：夜幕初降，她打开走廓里的灯，往各个房间喷杀虫剂，揭开灶上盛着当天晚上和她父亲共享的汤锅的盖子，父女二人坐在桌子旁边，眼睛瞧着地下，没有喝场，免得打破赌气的乐趣，后来老头子只好认输了，请求女儿原谅他下午的粗暴。

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乌尔比诺医生对女人是相当了解的。他知道，只要他不走，费尔米纳是不会到书房里来的，但他还是煞费苦心地拖延时间，他觉得今天下午遭受的这场羞辱，伤害了他的自尊心，会使他耿耿于怀。洛伦索?达萨差不多烂醉如泥了，他没有看出乌尔比诺医生心不在焉，只顾自个儿晓叨个没完。他滔滔不绝地说话，边说边嚼已经抽灭了的雪茄的外边那层烟叶，大声咳嗽、吐痰，沉重地在转椅上摇来晃去，使转椅的弹簧发出牲口发情般的呻吟。客人每喝一杯，他就港下三杯，当他发觉两人已经对面不见，起身开灯时才把话打住了一会儿。灯光底下，乌尔比诺医生又正视了他一眼，发现他的一只眼睛扭歪了，踉鱼眼珠似的，嘴里说的话跟口形都对不上了，他想这大概是自己喝酒过量而产生的幻觉。他迷迷糊糊地站起来，觉得身子都不是自个儿的了，仿佛还坐在原来的位置上。费了九牛二虎之力，他才没让自己失去理智。

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他跟在洛伦索?达萨后面走出书房的时候，已经七点多了。圆月当空。苗香酒的作用，使他觉得庭园就跟飘浮的水面似的，用布蒙起来的鸟笼，则象一个个梦寐中的鬼影。新开的拘橡花，散发出阵阵暖烘烘的香气。缝纫室的窗户敞着，工作台上亮着一盏灯，几幅役画完的画，放在画板架上，似乎在展览。“你在哪里，你无处不在。”乌尔比诺医生走过窗台的时候说了这么一句，但费尔米纳没有听见，也无法听见，因为此时她正在闺房愤然流泪。她歪在床上，等着她父亲去偿还下午受的委屈。医生还惦着向她告别，但洛伦索?达萨设提这个连儿。她那讨人喜欢的哄怒，那条跟小猫舌一般无二的舌头，那鲜嫩的脸庞，宛在眼前。但一想到她永远不愿再见到他，不能再打她的主意了，心里立即涌起一阵凉意。洛伦索?达萨走进门口前厅的时候，已惊醒过来的香秃绕从布罩里发出一声哀鸣。“好心不得好报。”

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医生大声说了一句，心里还在想着她的倩影。洛伦索?达萨回过头来问他说什么。

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“我没有说。”他回答，“是首香酒在说。”

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洛伦索?达萨把他送上车子，想让他收下第二次出诊的金比索，但他把它推开了。他一字不差地向车夫下了指示，让他把车赶到他还没出诊的两个病人的家去，他不用旁人搀扶就登上了马车。可是石子路上的颠簸，使他觉得难受，于是他命令车夫改道而行。他对着车里的镜子照了一会儿，发现镜子里的他也仍然在思念着费尔米纳。他耸了耸肩膀，后来他打了个酸嗝儿，头垂到胸前，沉沉睡去。睡梦中，他听见丧钟响了。起先是大教堂在敲丧钟，后来所有的教堂都敲起来了，一阵接一阵，甚至圣胡安医院里也传来了阵敲打破盆烂罐的声音。

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“见他妈的鬼，”他在睡梦里响咕，“死了人了。”

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母亲和两个妹妹正在围着宽大的餐室里的那张请客和庆典时才用的餐桌用晚饭，吃奶酪饼，喝牛奶咖啡。她们看见他满脸若相地走进门来，浑身散发着香秃骛的刺鼻的香味儿。近在咫尺的大教堂的钟声，在家里的大水池上空回响。母亲慌张地问他钻到哪儿去了，人们到处找他，让他去给拉贝拉侯爵的一脉单传的孙子马利亚将军看病，可他下午因脑溢血去世了，钟就是为他敲的。乌尔比诺医生对母亲的话听而不闻， 他先是抓着门框，后来半转身想走到卧室去，却倾盆大雨似的吐i一地茵香酒，一个嘴啃地，人也趴下了。

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“我的天哪，”母亲大声喊道，“回家成了这副模样，准是出了什么怪事。”

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然而，最奇怪的事情还没出现哩。利用著名的钢琴师罗梅罗?路西奇造访的机会——全城刚刚结束对马利亚将军的哀悼， 他就弹j一组莫扎特的小夜曲——乌尔比诺医生让人把音乐学校的钢琴装上骡车，到费尔米纳的窗下为她弹了一支老掉牙的小夜曲。头几小节响起时，她就醒了，不用从阳台窗帘里探出身子来看，她就知道谁是这种异常的献殷勤的策划者了。她唯一遗憾的是，自己没有那些刁钻泼辣的姑娘们的勇气，没把马桶里的屎尿劈头盖脑地泼在不受欢迎的追求者身上。她的父亲洛伦索?达萨则恰恰相反，小夜曲还在弹奏，他就忙不迭地穿好衣服，曲终时便把乌尔比诺医生和身上还穿着参加音乐会演出的那套礼服的钢琴师请进了客厅，用上等白兰地作为对他们演奏小夜曲的酬劳。

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很快，费尔米纳就发觉了，她父亲想打动她的心。就在小夜曲出现的第二天，父亲意味深长地对她说：“你想，要是你母亲知道你被一个乌尔比诺?德?拉卡列家族的人爱上了，她该多高兴啊。”她当即反唇相讥：“她会在棺材里再死一遍。”

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跟她一起画画的女友们告诉她，洛伦索?达萨被乌尔比诺医生请到社会俱乐部去吃了一次午饭，而这又因违反规定受到了严厉警告。那时她才知道，她父亲曾经几次申请加入社会俱乐部，每次都因数不清的流言蜚语遭到拒绝，而且已根本不可能再作尝试了。可是，洛伦索?达萨象受气似的咽下了受到的侮辱，依然费尽心机地想同乌尔比诺医生不期而遇，没料到乌尔比话也在处心积虑地谋求同他会面。有时候，他们在书房里一谈就是几个钟头，而这时，家里的一切活动就不管时间的流逝而停止了，因为只要他不走，费尔米纳就不让任何事情照常进行。教区咖啡馆成了理想的避风港。在那里，洛伦索?达萨给乌尔比诺上了象棋的启蒙课，后者呢，是个十分勤奋的学生，直到临终之日，象棋都是他的不能自拔的嗜好。

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一天晚上，就是钢琴独奏小夜曲不久后的一天晚上，洛伦索?达萨在家里的接待室发现一封用火漆封口写给女儿的信，火漆上印着胡?乌?卡三个字的花押。他从女儿的闺房走过的时候，把信轻轻从门缝底下塞了进去。她百思不得其解，信是怎么到了那里的，因为她想象不到，她的父亲竟会变得和过去判若两人，居然代追求者传递信件。她把信放在床头柜上好几天没打开。不知道到底该怎么处理。一天下午，雨声阵阵，费尔米纳梦见乌尔比诺又到家里来了，要把用来给她检查过喉咙的那块铝压舌板送给她。梦里的压舌板不是铝的，是另一种她在别的梦里曾津津有味地尝过的一种可口的金属的，于是她把压舌板掰成了二大一小两段，把最小的那段分给了他。

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梦醒之后，她打开了信。信简短而字迹工整。”乌尔比诺的唯一要求是请她允许他向她父亲提出拜访她的要求。他的朴素和严肃，使她为之动心，深切的爱把那些在漫长的日子里培育出来的恨，一刹那间平息了。她把信放进箱底的一只旧首饰盒里，但又想起阿里萨那些香气四溢的信也曾放在那儿，突如其来的羞愧使她浑身一震。她把这封信又取了出来，准备换个地方收藏。她又觉得，最正派的做法是若无其事地把信在灯上烧掉，瞅着火漆化成的泡泡变成缕缕蓝色烟雾在火苗上翻腾。

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她叹了口气：“可怜的人。”墓地，她意识到这是她在一年多一点的时间里第二次说这句话了，一时又想起了阿里萨，她自己也很吃惊，他被她早就忘在九霄云外了：这个可怜的人。

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十月，随着最后那几场雨，又来了王封信，第一封信是跟一小盒弗拉维尼教堂紫罗兰香皂一起送来的。另两封是乌尔比诺医生的车夫送交到她家的大门口的，车夫从车子的窗户里就远远向普拉西迪哑打了个招呼，首先是不容怀疑，信是给她的，其次是让谁也没法说信没收到。此外，两封信都是用画着花押的火漆封着的，字体是龙飞凤舞的隐体字，费尔米纳早已认出这是医生的手笔。两封信的内容跟第一封信都大同小异，字里行间流露着同样的谦恭，但在道貌岸然的背后，已隐隐现出阿里萨那些欲言又止的信里所从来没有过的急不可耐。费尔米纳一收到信就拆开来看，两封信前后相差一周，在行将把信付之一炬的时刻，她又不假思索地改变了主意。

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不过，她从来没想过要答复。

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十月里的第三封信是从大门底下塞进来的，跟以前的信截然不同。字体歪七扭八，显然是用左手写的，但费尔米纳在看完那封无耻的匿名信之前还没发现这一点。

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写这封信的人一口咬定说，费尔米钢用迷魂汤使乌尔比诺医生着了魔，从这个推测里，得出了不怀好意的结论。信的末尾威胁说：如果费尔米纳不放弃依靠那位全市身价最高的男人出人头地的企图，她将会当众出丑。

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她觉得她受到了极不公正的伤害，但她的反应不是要进行报复，而是完全相反，她想找到写匿名信的人，用千条万条理由说服他，告诉他，他错了，因为她确信，不管什么时候，不管面对什么威胁利诱，她都不会为乌尔比诺的甜言蜜语所动。在那以后的几天中，她又收到了几封没落款的信，这些信跟前一封一样信口雌黄，但三封中没有一封看来是写前一封信的同三个人写的。也许是她中了计，也许是她那暗中有过的初恋的幻影超出了她能想象的范围。一想到那一切都可能是乌尔比诺的纯属草率鲁莽的行为造成的后果，她就感到坐卧不宁。她想，也许他的为人同他俊逸体面的外貌相去甚远，也许他在看病的时候说的那些话是信口开河，然后又去自作多情地吹嘘，就跟他那个阶层的许许多多纨持子弟一样。她想过要给他写封信，对自己的名誉受到的污蔑进行报复，但随即又打消了这个念头，因为那样做说不定正是他所希望的。她试图通过那些到缝纫室来跟她一起画画的女友了解情况，但她们唯一听到的，是关于那支钢琴独奏小夜曲的轻描淡写的议论。她觉得怒不可遏，又无能为力，满腹委屈。跟最初时的想法相反，她不再想去找到那个不露首尾的敌人，同他争论，她只想用整枝剪刀把他剪个稀巴烂。她彻夜不眠，分析那些匿名信的细节和含义，幻想从中找到一丝一毫的安慰。那是空劳神思的幻想：费尔米纳从本质上说，同乌尔比诺?德?拉卡列一家的内心世界是格格不入的，她只能防御明枪，无法抵挡暗箭。

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这个信念，经过黑洋娃娃那场惊吓之后变得更加惨痛了。黑洋娃娃也是在那些日子里给她送去的，没附带任何信件，但她不费吹灰之力就想到了它的来源：只有乌尔比诺医生才会给她送这个玩意儿。从商标上看，那是在马蒂尼卡岛买的，洋娃娃的衣服精美绝伦，卷曲的头发是用金丝做的，放倒的时候，它的眼睛会闭上。费尔米纳觉得好玩极了，放松了戒备，白天让它躺在枕头上。晚上搂着它睡觉，习以为常。然而过了一段时间之后，有一次当她从一个令人筋疲力尽的梦里醒过来时，发现洋娃娃越来越大了：原来穿的那件华美的衣服已经遮不住它的屁股，脚把鞋子也撑破了。费尔米纳曾经听说过非洲妖术的故事，但都没有象这样令人毛骨悚然。

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另外，她不敢相信，象乌尔比诺这么个有头面的人，居然也会干出这种事情来。对的，洋娃娃不是那个车夫，而是一个偶然上11兜售对虾的人送来的，他的来历谁也说不清楚。为了解开这个谜，费尔米纳一度想到了阿里萨，他的忧郁的气质曾使她不寒而栗，但后来她才明白，她想错了。这个谜始终是个谜，直到她结婚很久之后，生儿育女，并终于相信命运的选择是最幸福的选择以后，只要一念及此，她还是吓得浑身发抖。

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乌尔比诺医生的最后一次努力是敦请拉鲁丝媲嫣说项。她是圣母献瞻节学校的校长，对来自一个从这个学校在美洲建立以来就惠予照顾的家庭的请求，她无法拒绝。她由一个新入教的修女陪同，在上午九点钟光临。费尔米纳还没洗完澡，她们不得不返鸟笼里的鸟儿玩了半个钟头。她是个具有男子气质的德国女人，声如洪钟，目光犀利，跟她对孩子的爱怜似乎风马牛不相及。世界上费尔米纳最痛恨的，莫过于她和一切同她有关的事了，只要一回想起她的伪善，她就觉得象吃了蝎子那么恶心。从浴室门口一认出她来，费尔米纳一下就想起了在学校里挨过的体罚，每天做弥撒时难熬的瞌睡，令人心凉肉跳的考试，新人教的媛惊的奴颜婢膝，和那因精神空虚而形成的死水一潭的生活。然而，拉鲁丝惊塘却带着仿佛是发自内心的喜悦向她打招呼。慷惊惊奇地发现，费尔米纳长大而且成熟多了，她称赞说，家里布置得井井有条，庭院是色治人，拘椽花红得跟火似的。她命令新娘偏在那里等她，别太靠近秃骛，说一不小心它们就会把她的眼珠啄出来，然后说想找个僻静的地方坐下来同费尔米纳单独谈谈。后者请她到客厅去。

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访问是短暂而不愉快的。拉鲁丝偏爆没有浪费时间去寒暄就对费尔米纳说，她可以体面地复学。被开除的原因，不但可以从档案中而且可以从大家的记忆里一笔勾销。这样一来，她就可以学完课程并获得文学学上的文凭。费尔米纳如坠五里雾中，询问这是从何谈起。

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“这是某位有求必应的人的要求，他的唯一希望是让你幸福。”

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修女说，“你知道他是谁吗？”

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她明白了。她想，这个因一封无辜的信而毁了她的生活的女人有什么权利来充当媒人呢？但她没敢说出口。她只是说，是的，她认识这个人，因此也知道他没有任何权利来干涉她的生活。

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“他唯一的请求，是请你同意跟他谈五分钟。”修女说，“我确信，你父亲是会同意的。”

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想到父亲可能是安排这次访问的同谋，她更加生气了。

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“我生病的时候跟他见过两次面。”她说，“现在没有任何必要。”

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“不管是多么挑剔的姑娘，都会认为这是圣母的赐福。”修女说。

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修女继续列举他的美德，他的虔诚，他的救死扶伤的献身精神，边说边从袖子里掏出一串中间挂着用象牙雕刻的基督的金念珠，在费尔米纳眼前晃了晃。那是家传圣物，有一百多年历史，是由西也纳一位金银匠雕成而且受过克莱门蒂四世②祝福的。

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“这是给你的。”修文说。

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费尔米纳觉得血往上涌，忍无可忍了。

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“我不明白您干吗会于这种事，”她说，您难道不认为爱情是罪恶吗？”

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拉鲁丝惊媛假装对这种侮辱毫不在意，但她的眼睛里进出了火星。她继续在费尔米纳眼前晃着那串念珠。

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“你最好还是同我好说好商量，”她说，“因为我如果说不通，主教大人就会来，跟他谈，情形就不一样了。”

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“请他来吧。”费尔米纳说。

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拉鲁丝姆惊把金念珠藏进了袖口，然后从另一只袖口里掏出一块很旧的揉成一团的手绢，紧紧地握在手里，带着一副悲天悯人的笑容从远处看着费尔米纳。

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“可怜的孩子，”她叹了口气说，“你还在想着那个人。”

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费尔米纳目不转睛地看着修女，咽下了一句不该是姑娘家说的话。看见修女那两只象男人般的眼睛里噙着泪水，她觉得无比痛快。拉鲁丝惊偏用手绢团擦干泪水，站了起来。

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“你父亲说你是头倔驴，真是一点不错。”她说。

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主教并没有去。如果不是因为伊尔德布兰达来跟表妹一起过圣诞节。两人的生活都发生了变化，对她的纠缠到那天为止就算结束了。清晨五点，他们到发自里约阿查那条船上去接她，一大群乱糟糟的旅客，因旱船而显得困倦萎顿，但她却春风满面地下了船，带着鲜明的女性的妩媚。一夜风浪，使她还是显得有些紧张。她带来了装着她家富饶的农场里出产的火鸡和各种水果的大筐小兜，以使在她做客期间谁也短不了吃的。她父亲利西马科?桑切斯要好带个口信，复活节时候如果缺少乐师，他可以把最高明的乐师请来，还答应过些日子运一批焰火给他们。此外他还说，在三月以前他不可能把女儿接回去，她尽可呆在那儿玩个够。

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表姐妹俩一见面就过上了圣诞节。从第一个下午起，她们就一起人泪。裸体相对，用浴池里的水作为圣水互行洗礼。她们互相擦服皂，捉虱子，比臀部，比结实的乳峰，把对方当做镜子，检查自从上一次大家脱去衣服互相观摩以来，时光毫不留情地在各自身上留下了什么痕迹。伊尔德布兰达富态丰腴，橘黄色的皮肤，全身长着混血姑娘型的毛发，短而卷曲，跟金属细丝绒似的。费尔米纳则相反，苗条颀长，皮肤鲜润，毛发平垂。普拉西迪妞吩咐在卧室里摆上了两张同样的床，但有时她们躲在同一张床上，灭灯后一直谈到天明。她们还抽上几支拦路强盗抽的那种细枝雪茄，那是伊尔德布兰达藏在箱子的衬里中带来的，然后烧几张阿尔梅尼亚纸，以消除卧室里雪茄烟留下的霉味儿。费尔米纳第一次抽烟是在瓦列杜帕尔镇，后来在丰塞卡，在里约阿查也继续抽。在里约阿查的时候，十来个表姐妹反锁在一间房子里，谈论男人，偷偷抽烟。她学会倒着吸烟，把点火的那一头搁在嘴里，就跟战场上男子汉们为了防止香烟的闪光暴露自己一样，但她孤身独处时从不抽烟。跟伊尔德布兰达一起住在自己家里的那些日子里，她每天晚上睡觉前都抽烟，打那时起，她就学会抽烟了，但始终是背着人抽，连丈夫和儿女们也背着，这不仅因为女人在别人面前抽烟不太雅观，而且也因为她以偷偷油烟为乐。

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伊尔德布兰达这次旅行，从她父母来说，本是为了让她淡忘那桩门不当户不对的爱情，但他们却对她说，是要她去帮助费尔米纳拿个大主意，她也信以为真了。

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伊尔德布兰达是带着嘲弄忘却的幻想——同她表妹过去的做法一样——听从父母之命的，她跟丰塞卡那个电报员商量妥了，让他秘密地把消息传递给她。因此，当她知道费尔米纳已经和阿里萨吹了的时候，她痛心极了。另外，伊尔德布兰达认为爱情是人同此心、心同此理的，觉得发生在一个人身上的任何事情，都会影响普天之下所有的爱情。不过，她并未放弃原来的计划。她以使费尔米纳瞠目结舌的大无畏勇气，独自一人到电报局去了，她要让阿里萨帮她的忙。

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她没认出阿里萨，因为他长得和费尔米纳说的完全不同。乍见之下，她觉得表妹曾经为这个貌不惊人的小职员而神魂颠倒简直令人难以置信，他的气质就跟挨了打的狗似的，那身落难犹太教士的打扮和一本正经的模样，任何人也不会动心的。

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但是她很快又推翻了最初的印象，因为阿里萨虽不知道她是何许人，却愿意无条件地为她效劳，他到底也没弄清她是谁。谁也比不上他那么通情达理，既没让她报上尊姓大名，也没向她要地址。他的办法很简单：她每个礼拜三下午到电报局之地树引环强境李里，一如此而已。他看完伊尔德市工送带去的那张写好的电报纸后，问她能不能接受他的建议作点修改，她同意了。阿里萨又涂又写，最后干脆把那张纸撕了，重新写了一封信，她觉得他动人极了。走出电报局时，伊尔德布兰达的眼泪差点儿夺眶而出。

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“他其貌不扬而又可怜巴巴的，”她对费尔米纳说，“但可爱极了。”

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最引起伊尔德布兰达注意的，是表妹的寂寞。她对表妹说，你就跟二十岁的老处女似的。她在一个人数众多而分散的家庭里生活惯了，在这种家庭里，谁也搞不准到底有多少人，每顿饭又有谁去吃。伊尔德布兰达无法想象，一个处在表妹这样年华的姑娘，被关在私生活的小天地里不越雷池半步，该是多么难受。从早上六点钟起床开始，到晚上熄灯就寝为止，都在消磨时光，天天如此。生活，从外部强加给她。首先，鸡叫最后一遍的时候，送牛奶的男人就拍响大门的门环把她叫醒。然后，就该是那个卖鱼的女人了，她肩扛一个用海藻垫底、装着奄奄待毙的棘镇鱼的箱子，手提几只盛着马利亚啦巴哈产的蔬菜和圣贻辛托产的水果的精美的篮子。再以后，整日有人敲门，什么样的人都有：叫化子、招揽摸彩赌博的姑娘、募捐的修女、吹着芦笛的磨刀匠。收购瓶子的。收购碎金子的、收购报纸的、假扮成吉卜赛女人用纸牌算命的、或看手相的、或看咖啡剩渣和小盆里的水算命的。普拉西迪哑整周就是打开大门又关上，嘴里说着“不要”，“改天再来吧”，要不就在阳台上气息败坏地吼叫：“别再烦了，他妈的，该买的我们都已经买过了。”她以极大的热忱乐颠颠地取代了埃斯科拉斯蒂卡姑妈，费尔米纳都把她当姑妈甚至喜欢她了。

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她当奴隶简直成了撤好。只要一有点儿空，她就到工作间去熨烫白罩单，把它叠得整整齐齐，放进装有黛衣草花的柜橱里，她不＿仅熨烫和折叠刚刚洗过的，还把那些因久放不用而褪了色的也又烫又叠。她还同样小心翼翼地经管着费尔米纳?桑切斯——费尔米纳的母亲，死去已经十四年——的衣服。不过，拿主意的是费尔米纳。

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她吩咐该吃什么，该买什么，每件事情该这么办，该那么办，她就这样主宰着实际上没什么可主宰的全家的生活。每当她洗刷完鸟笼并给鸟儿喂过食，两弄过花草之后，她就不知道该干什么了。她被学校开除以后，有好多回，午觉一直睡到第二天。

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图画课，只不过是消磨时间的一种方式而已。自从埃斯科拉蒂斯卡姑妈出走以后，她同父亲的关系就冷淡了下来，虽然双方都已经找到了相安无事地生活的办法。她起床的时候，他已经出去干他的事去了。他很少不回家履行吃午饭的礼节，虽然几乎从来不吃，因为教区咖啡馆里的开胃酒和点心就把他填饱了。他也不吃晚饭，他们把他那一份留在饭桌上，盛在一个盘子里，用另一个盘子扣起来，尽管谁都知道他不会去吃，放到第二天早饭时热好再端出来也还是不吃。他每周交一次钱给女儿，用做开支，这笔钱他计算得很精确，她也抠得很紧，不过她向他提出任何不时之需时他都乐意照给。他从来不说少给她一个子儿，也从来不查帐，但她却搞得一清二楚，就跟要向宗教裁判所的法庭报帐似的。他从来不向她谈他的生意的性质和状况，也从来没带她到港口的办公室去过，办公室设在正派姑娘不宜露面的地区，就是由父母陪着也不行。洛伦索?达萨晚上十点以前是不会回家的。十点，是战争不那么激烈时期的宵禁时间。他在教区咖啡馆里一直呆到那个时间，见到什么玩什么，他对各种室内游戏都在行，而且精通。他回家时总是轻手轻脚的，不吵醒女儿。每天他一醒就喝下第一杯茵香酒，嘴里整天嚼着熄灭了的卷烟屁股，时不时再来上一杯。

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一天晚上，费尔米纳觉得父亲回来了，她听见楼梯上响起了他那哥萨克脚步声，二楼的过道上传来了沉重的喘息声，卧室的门上响起了他用手掌拍门的声音。接着，她给他开了门，第一次惊恐地发现，父亲的眼睛扭歪了，说话也磕磕巴巴的。

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“我们完了。”他说，“全完了，你就会知道的。”

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总共就说了那么句话，以后再也没提起过，也没发生任何证明他说了实话的迹象。但那天晚上以后，费尔米纳就明白了，她在世界上举目无亲。她生活在社会真空里。学校里的老同学生活在对她来说是禁地的天堂里。她蒙受被开除的羞辱之后就更加如此了，邻居们也不正眼瞧她，因为他们对她的事知道得一清二楚，而且是看着她穿着圣母献瞻书学校的校服长大的。同父亲打交道的都是商人和码头工人，教区咖啡馆这个庇护所里面的逃兵，独身的男人。在最后这一年里，图画课多少减轻了一点她的囚居生活的寂寞，那位女教师喜欢上集体课，常常把其他女学生带到她的缝纫室来。但那些女学生的社会条件千差万别，教养欠佳，对费尔米纳来说，她们只不过是些萍水相逢的朋友，每堂课一结束，感情也就结束了。伊尔德布兰达想敞开那个家的大门，给它透透气，把父亲的乐师、鞭炮和焰火架弄来，搞一次狂欢舞会，让大风把表妹的死气沉沉的精神状态一扫而光，然而她很快就发现，这些想法是徒劳的，原因很简单：找不到人。

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不管怎么说，把表妹推向生活的毕意是她。下午，上完图画课以后，她让表妹带她上街，游览市容。费尔米纳指给表姐看，这是她过去每天和埃斯科拉斯蒂卡姑妈散步的路线；这是阿里萨假装看书等她时坐过的小公园里的那条长凳子；这是他尾随她走过的几条胡同；这是他们密藏书信的旮旯儿；这是原先作过宗教法庭的监狱的那座阴森森的宫殿，宫殿后来改成了圣母献瞻节学校，她打心眼儿里憎恨它。

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她们登上了穷人公墓那道山梁，阿里萨原先就是在这里拉小提琴，利用风向使她躺在床上都能听到。站在山上，古城尽收眼底：支离破碎的屋顶和百孔千疮的墙壁；荆棘丛中的要塞废墟；海湾里连绵不断的小岛；湖边破破烂烂的木板窝棚；还有那浩瀚的加勒比海。

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圣诞之夜，她们到大教堂去望子时弥撒。费尔米纳站在当初可以最清晰地听到阿里萨的秘密乐曲的地方，分毫不爽地指给表姐那个望弥撒之夜她第一次就近看见阿里萨那两只惊慌的眼睛的地方。尔后，她俩大着胆子到了“代笔先生门洞”，买了些甜食，在变色纸商店里玩了一阵。费尔米纳指给表姐，她就是在那个地方突然发现，她的爱情只不过是个海市蜃楼。她自己也没察觉，从她家到学校的每一步路，城里的每个地方，她那历历在目的过去的每个时刻，无一不是因为阿里萨而存在的。

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伊尔德布兰达向她指出了这一点，但她没有承认，因为她从来就没有承认过，不管是福是祸，唯一闯过她生活中的是阿里萨这个现实。

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就在那些天，来了一个比利时照相师。他在“代笔先生门洞”上面搭起了照相馆，付得起钱的人都利用这个机会给自己留了下影。费尔米纳和伊尔德布兰达第一批抢先拍照。她们把费尔米纳?桑切斯的衣柜翻了个底儿朝天，把最艳丽的衣服、遮阳伞。做客时穿的鞋子、帽子都瓜分了，打扮成一副中世纪贵妇的样子。普拉西迪哑帮她们扎束胸农，教她们如何在裙撑的铁丝架子里扭动，如何戴手套，如何系高跟靴的扣子。伊尔德布兰达挑了一项阔边帽子，上面的驼鸟羽毛一直拖到背上。

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费尔米纳戴了一顶不那么古色古香的帽子，上面缀着五颜六色的石膏水果和土布花结。在镜子里瞧着自己酷似银板照片上的祖母们时，她们互相取笑了一番，然后哈哈大笑，兴高采烈地去照她们有生以来的第一张照片去了。普拉西迪娜站在阳台上，目送她们打着遮阳伞穿过公园，东倒西歪地勉强稳住支在高跟鞋上的身子，全身使劲儿推着跟学步车似的裙撑。她祝福她们，让上帝保何她们照个好方目。

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比利时人的照相馆前面挤得水泄不通。他正在给森特诺拍照——森特诺刚刚在巴拿马拿到了拳击冠军，他穿着比赛时的短裤，戴着拳击手套，头上顶着冠军的桂冠。给他照相殊非易事，因为他必然保持进攻姿势一分钟，尽量减少呼吸。维持秩序的人刚站起来，他的崇拜者们便爆发出一阵阵欢呼声，为了讨好那些崇拜者，他一遍又一遍地表演他的技艺。轮到表姐妹俩的时候，天空彤云密布，山雨欲来，她们听任别人在脸上涂抹淀粉，大大方方地靠在一根雪花五膏柱子上，保持一动不动的姿势还超出了所需要的时间。那是一张永垂不朽的玉照。当伊尔德布兰达以差不多百岁高龄在她那座位于弗洛雷斯?德马利亚的庄园里离开人世的时候，人们在她卧室里的衣柜里发现了这张加印的照片，照片跟一封被年代擦去了字迹、情思变成了化石的信放在一起，夹在香气四溢的床单的叠缝里，锁在抽屉中。多年来，费尔米纳一直把她这张照片贴在全家影集的扉页上，后来不知道怎样，也弄不清在什么时候不翼而飞了，经过一系列说来也没人相信的巧遇，这张照片竟落到了阿里萨手里，那时两人都已年逾古稀。

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费尔米纳和伊尔德布兰达从比利时人的照相馆出来的时候，“代笔先生门洞”

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对面的广场上人山人海，连阳台都挤满了。她们忘了自己脸上涂着白色的淀粉，嘴唇上抹着巧克力色的口红，身上穿着古代的衣裳。街上的人们向她们起哄，她们躲进一个角落，竭力逃避众人的哄笑，这时一辆驾着枣骡马的四轮车车分开众人驶了过来。哄笑停息了，不怀好意的人群作鸟兽散。伊尔德布兰达一辈子也忘不了她第一眼看见的从车里钻出来站在车门踏板上的那个男人的模样，忘不了他的缎子礼帽，忘不了他的锦缎背心，忘不了他那睿智的风度，忘不了他眼中的柔情，也忘不了他出场时的威严。

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虽然她从来没见过他，但一眼就把他认出来了。费尔米纳对她谈起过他，几乎是漫不经心地偶然提起的。那是在上个月的一天下午，费尔米纳不愿意从卡萨尔杜埃罗侯爵家门口走过，因为那辆驾着枣骡马的四轮马车正停在大门口。她告诉表姐谁是马车的主人，并试图解释她为什么对他反感，但对他的追求则只字未提。伊尔德布兰达早把他忘了，看见他从天而降似的出现在车门口，一只脚踏在地面，一只脚踩在踏板上，她就把他认出来了，她不明白表妹为什么对他反感。

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“请上车吧。”乌尔比诺医生对她们说：“我送你们回去。”

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费尔米纳还在犹豫，伊尔德布兰达却已欣然接受了邀请。乌尔比诺医生站在地上，用指尖扶着她上车，几乎没沾她的身子。费尔米纳没法，只好跟着表姐上车，满脸涨得通红。

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那儿离家不过三个街口。表姐妹俩不知道马尔比诺医生是不是跟车夫串通好了，但看来准是这样，马车走了足足半个小时，她俩坐在主座上，他坐在她们对面，背对着马车前进的方向。费尔米纳扭脸对着窗户，心里一片茫然。伊尔德布兰达倒很开心，而乌尔比诺医生呢，则因为她的开心而更开心。车子刚一启动，伊尔德布兰达就觉出了真皮坐垫散发的暖烘烘的气息，车内的家什布置得严严实实，便开口说，她觉得住在里面怪舒服的。很快，她和医生便笑开了，相互象老朋友那样开玩笑，说着说着就玩开了一种浅显的隐语游戏。这种游戏就是在每个音节之间加上一个常见的音节。他们假装以为费尔米纳听不懂他们的话，但实际上他们不仅知道她懂而且知道她正在全神贯注地听着他们说，正因为如此他们才玩哩。过了一会儿，说笑一阵之后，伊尔德布兰达坦白说，她的脚被靴子夹得实在受不了。

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“这再容易不过了。乌尔比诺医生说，“看我们谁先脱完。”

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说完他就开始解靴子带，伊尔德布兰达接受了挑战。由于裙撑的扇骨妨碍她弯腰，她脱得很费劲，乌尔比诺医生有意耽搁，等到她胜利地哈哈大笑着从裙子底下拖出两只靴子，仿佛刚从鱼塘里钓起两条鱼似的，他才把自己的靴子脱掉。这时，两人都瞧了费尔米纳一眼，在火红的晚霞映照下，费尔米纳的黄鹤般的线条，比任何时候都更加纤巧。费尔米纳正在生气，一是因为她的狼狈处境，二是因为伊尔德布兰达的放肆行为，三是因为她确信车子正在毫无意义地绕弯儿以便拖延到家的时间。而伊尔德布兰达却已经毫无戒备了。

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“现在我才明白，”她说，“原来折磨我的不是鞋，而是这个铁丝笼子。”

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乌尔比诺医生明白她指的是裙撑，便闪电般地抓住了机会。

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“这再容易不过了，”他说”“脱掉它吧。”说完，以魔术师的快速动作从口袋里掏出一方手帕，把眼睛蒙了起来。

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“我不看。”他说。

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蒙着眼睛的手帕，更加烘托出了又圆又黑的胡髯和尖尖的山羊须之间的那两片嘴唇的鲜润，她突然觉得一阵慌乱的颤栗。伊尔德布兰达看了看费尔米纳脸色，后者的怒气冲冲已化成了满脸惊慌，生怕表姐真的把裙子脱下来。伊尔德布兰达神情变得严肃起来，用手势问表妹：“我们怎么办介费尔米纳用同样的方式回答她说，如果再不回家去，她就从滚动着的马车上跳下去。

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“我等着哪。”医生说。

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“已经可以看了。”伊尔德布兰达说。

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取开蒙着眼睛的手帕后，乌尔比诺医生发现她换了一副面孔，于是他明白游戏已经结束了，而且是糟糕地结束了。做了个示意的动作，车夫调转马车，进入了福音公园。这时，灯标看守人正在点亮路灯。所有的教堂都敲响了晚祈祷的钟声。伊尔德布兰达慌里慌张地下了车，感到自己惹表妹生了气，显得有些不安。她非正式地同医生拉手道别。费尔米纳学着她的样子如法炮制，当她想把戴着素色手套的手抽回来的时候，乌尔比诺医生却用中指把她的手用力援住了。

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“我在等着您的答复。”他对她说。

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费尔米纳更用力地抽了一下，空手套留在医生手里了，但她没有去取，转身而去。费尔米纳没吃晚饭就躺下了。伊尔德布兰达跟没事的人似的，和普拉西迪她一起在厨房里吃过晚饭才回到卧室，然后以其天生的脾气对下午的事件品评了一番。

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她没有掩饰对乌尔比诺医生、对他搬洒的风度和同情心的浓厚兴趣。费尔米纳对她的话未置一词，但内心的反感终于消失了。又过了一会儿，伊尔德布兰达说了实话：当乌尔比诺医生蒙住眼睛，她看见那红润的嘴唇里的两排雪白而整齐的牙齿的时候，产生了想去狂吻他的不可遏止的愿望。费尔米纳翻身朝着墙壁，不带恶意地打断了她的话，可能还挂着会心的微笑。

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“你真不怕羞！”她说。

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她入睡后不断地惊醒，到处都看见乌尔比诺医生，看见他在笑、在唱、在蒙着眼睛喷硫磺火花，在另一辆去穷人公墓时坐的马车里用一种不规则的隐语嘲笑她。

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天亮前很久她就醒了，浑身无力，闭着眼睛，清醒地想象着她还将生活的无数个年头。后来，在伊尔德布兰达起身洗澡时，她飞快地写了封信，飞快地叠好，飞快地装进信封，在伊尔德布兰达从浴室里出来之前就让普拉西迪哑把信送给乌尔比诺医生。那是一封费尔米纳式的信，一个字不多，一个字也不少，信中只是说：可以，大夫，你去跟我父亲谈吧。

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阿里萨得知费尔米纳即将嫁给一位在欧洲受过教育的医生，享有在他同龄人中罕见的威望，家财巨万的贵族苗裔时，悲痛欲绝。发现儿子不说也不吃，而且一夜一夜的彻夜不眠，伤心痛哭，特兰西托千方百计地劝慰他，给他列出一个又一个可求之女。整整过了一周，他才吃了一次饭。过后，她去同莱昂十二?洛阿伊萨——三兄弟中唯一的幸存者——谈了谈，没告诉他为什么，只是求他给侄儿在航运公司里找份差事，干什么都行，唯一的条件是：必须在马格达莱纳河流域的丛林中的一个港口里，。那里既无邮局又无电报局，听不到这个堕落之城的任何消息。叔叔并不看重这位亡兄遗编的面子，因为光是这个私生子的存在就使他受不了，但终于还是在维亚?雷伊瓦给他找了个电报员的位置。维亚?雷伊瓦是座美丽的城市，离这里有二十多天路程，而且海拔比文塔纳斯街高了差不多三千公尺。

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阿里萨一直没有意识到那是一次治疗性旅行。就像对那个时期发生的所有的事情一样，他总是带着自己的不幸这副有色眼镜来回忆这次旅行的。当他接到委任电报时，想都没想接受这个委任，但特乌古特以官运亨通这个德国式的理由说服了他。

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特乌古特对他说：’电报员是前途无量的职业。”他送给他一副衬着兔皮的棉手套，一顶草原皮帽和一件经受过巴伐利亚冰天雪地的一月考验的长毛绒领大衣。叔叔莱昂十二送了他两件呢子衣服和几双防水靴子——那是老大留下来的，还给了他一张下一班船的卧铺票，特兰西托按照儿子的身材把衣裳改了——儿子不象父亲那么魁梧，比德国人也矮多了，并给他买了些毛袜子和连裤的套衣，让他在寒冷高原的恶劣气候里不会觉得缺少什么。阿里萨被钻心透骨的痛苦弄得麻木不仁，就象是忘记了自己的存在一般帮着母亲收拾自己的行装。他没有把行期告诉任何人，没向任何人告别，如同把爱情理在心底那样严守着秘密。但在动身的前夕，他却干了最后一件发自内心的糊涂事，几乎为此丢了不命儿。半夜里，他穿上礼拜日的衣服，独自跑到费尔米纳的阳台下面拉起那支为她谱写的爱情圆舞曲，这支曲子只有他们俩才是知音，也是三年来和他朝夕相伴而又折磨着他的心曲。他边拉边低吟着歌词，泪水滴湿了小提琴，那一片痴情，连顽石也会点头叹息。从头几段开始，街上的狗就开始唱和，接着全城的狗都叫开了，但随着如泣如诉的音乐，狗叫声逐渐停息了，圆舞曲在一片可怕的寂静中结束了。阳台上的窗户没有开，一个人也没到街上来，就连那个差不多总是提着油灯赶来，从唱小夜曲的遗老遗少身上发点洋财的守夜人也没出现。这一幕，使阿里萨如释重负。当他把提琴放进盒子，头也不回地沿着死一般寂静的街道回去的时候，已经觉得他不是次日清晨要出走，而是觉得仿佛在许多年前他就带着绝不回头的决心出走了。

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那条船，是加勒比内河航运公司一模一样的三条船之中的一条，为了纪念公司的创始人，被重新取了名字：皮奥?金托?洛阿伊萨。那是条在铁壳上架着两层木头房子的船，宽敞而平坦，最深吃水五英尺，在变化无常的河床里可以应付裕如。

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最古旧的船是本世纪中叶在美国西西纳蒂建造的，用的是跑俄亥俄和密西西比河的那种老掉牙的船的模型，船的每侧有一个涡轮，涡轮是靠木柴锅炉推动的。跟这些船一样，加勒比内河船在底层甲板，在几乎贴着水面的地方安装着蒸汽机，厨房和那些庞大的鸡舍也安排在这个位置上，船员们把吊床横七竖八，更重叠叠地挂在鸡舍上。驾驶室、船长和高级船员的舱房在船的顶层，顶层上面还有一间娱乐室和一个餐厅，有身分的乘客至少会被请去吃顿晚饭和玩纸牌。船的中间一层，在当做集体餐厅用的过道两侧有六个头等舱。船头上，有一间露天休息室，栏杆是铁的，上面配着用雕花木头做的扶手。入夜，统舱的乘客便把吊床挂在那里。不过，这些船和最古旧的船也有一点区别：涡轮机叶板不是装在船的两侧，巨大的平行叶板涡轮机装在船尾，正好在乘客甲板那臭气熏人的便池底下。阿里萨不象头次出门的旅客那样，几乎是下意识地一上船就四处东看西看。他是在七月间的一个礼拜日早上七点上船的，直到傍晚，船经过卡拉玛尔村的时候，他到船尾去小便，从便池里看到那个巨大的宽叶涡轮机正在自己的脚下喷着泡沫和热气腾腾的蒸汽，在火山爆发般的巨响中转动着，直到这时，他才意识到他正在乘船旅行。

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他从来没出过门。随身携带的，是一只铁皮箱子，箱子里放着高寒地带穿的衣服、他自己装订并用纸板做成书皮的插图小说，以及那些他已倒背如流的几乎都被读烂了的爱情诗集。他把小提琴留在家里，那把小提琴和他的伤心事联系得太紧了，他不愿意让它勾起痛苦的往事。母亲却逼着他带上了那个行李包，那是个十分流行而实用的铺盖卷儿：一个枕头，一块床单，一个白色小便盆和一顶针织蚊帐，所有这些东西部包在一张席子里，用两根龙舌兰绳子捆起来，绳子在急需时可以用来控吊床。弗洛伦蒂诺?阿里萨起初不肯带，他觉得这些东西在一个有现成床铺的舱房里派不上用场，然而从第一天晚上开始，他就不能不再次感谢母亲的先见之明。最后一刻，上来了一位衣着华丽的旅客，他是那天清晨乘一艘从欧洲来的船到达的，省长亲自陪着他登船。他想带着妻子、女儿、一个男佣和七只镶着金边的箱子立即转船接着赶路，箱子勉勉强强堆在梯子上。船长是位身材高大的库拉索人，他终于唤起了土生白人们的爱国热情，把这几位不速之客安顿好。使用夹杂着库拉索方言的西班牙语向阿里萨解释说，那位服饰华贵的客人是英国的全权公使，他正在赶赴共和国首都。他提醒阿里萨，英国为我们从西班牙统治下独立出来提供了决定性的帮助，为了让一个门第如此高贵的家庭能在我们国家里有宾至如归的感觉，任何牺牲都算不了什么。当然，阿里萨因此放弃了自己的舱房。

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起初，他并没有后悔。每年的那个时期，河里的水位都很高，轮船在头两天夜里通行无阻。晚饭以后，也就是下午五点时分，船员们就把行军床分发给旅客，每个人自找地方把床支起来，铺上随身带的行李，挂上针织蚊帐。带有吊床的旅客，在大厅里挂吊床，什么也没带的人，就睡在餐厅的桌子上，把在整个航程中至多换洗两回的台布扯来盖在身上。入夜以后，阿里萨几乎是整夜地辗转反侧，不能人睡，他从河面上吹来的凉爽的微风里，听见了费尔米纳的声音，对她的回忆安慰着他的寂寞。轮船迈着巨兽的步伐在浓雾中前进，在轮船的喘息声中，他听见她在唱歌，直到地平线上升起第一抹玫瑰色的霞光，那歌声还在回荡。新的一天不知不觉地降临在渺无人烟杂草丛生的原野和浓雾紧锁的湖泊上。他认为这次旅行再次证明了母亲的聪明，于是他又觉得有勇气忘掉过去，并且继续生存了。

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在深水里走了三天之后，横梗的沙滩，或明或暗的激流，使航行变得更加困难。

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河水浑浊，而且越来越窄，两岸是参天大树纵横交错的原始森林，隔好一阵子才能在供轮船烧锅炉用的柴堆旁边看见一间茅屋。吱哇乱叫的鹦鹉和上蹿下跳的看不见影子的小猴，使炎炎午时显得越发闷热，晚上必须把船拴在岸边睡觉，这样一来，仅仅因为还活着，就让人无法忍受。除了闷热和蚊子外，还有那股晾晒在栏杆上的液肉散发出来的腐臭味儿，同样令人难耐。大部分乘客，尤其是欧洲人，都离开了臭气熏人的舱房，在甲板上踱来踱去熬过长夜，用拭擦涌流不断的汗水的那块毛巾，轰赶应有尽有的蚊虫小咬。天亮的时候，每个人都已经筋疲力尽，被蚊虫咬得鼻青脸肿。

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那一年，自由党和保守党之间的时断时续的内战又爆发了新的事端，为了维持船上的秩序和保障乘客的安全，船长采取了异常严厉的预防措施。他取缔了当时旅途中最喜闻乐见的消遣——朝在沙滩上晒太阳的鳄鱼开枪——以避免发生误会。后来，在一次争论中，某些乘客分成了势不两立的两派，他下令收缴了所有人的武器，答应在旅途终点归还。即使对那位英国公使，船长也毫不通融，这一位从启程的第二天一早就换上了猎装，挎上一支高精度卡宾枪和一支猎虎用的双筒猎枪。驶入特内里菲港上游以后，限制措施更加严厉了。在特内里非港，和一艘挂着表示瘟疫的黄旗的船交错而过，船长没能得到关于那个报警信号的任何情报，因为那艘船对他的信号未予回答。就在当天，他们碰见了另一艘运牲口去牙买加的船，这艘船告诉他们，那只挂着瘟疫标志的船上载有两个霍乱病人。并且告诉他们说，霍乱正在席卷他们即将驶过的那一段流域。于是，不但禁止乘客在下几站的港口下船，而且也不准在那些装添燃料的荒无人烟的地方下船。——就这样，在到达终点站前的那一段旅途上——整整六天乘客们都养成了坐牢般的习惯。在这些日子里，人们鬼鬼祟崇地你我相传，欣赏一套色情的荷兰明信片，谁也不知道那是从哪儿传出来的。但任何一个河上的“老江湖”心里都有数，那只不过是船长多年来收藏的色情明信片中的一小部分样品而已。就是这种望梅止渴的消遣，也仍然以徒增腻味而告终。

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阿里萨以他那种使母亲担忧、令朋友们恼火的矿石般的耐心，忍受着旅途的煎熬。他没同任何人发生过接触。时光轻易流逝，他倚栏而坐，时而看着一动不动地在沙滩上晒太阳的鳄鱼张开密排利齿的大嘴捕获蝴蝶，时而看着草险从沼泽地里掠飞而起，时而看着海牛用它那顶大无朋的奶头喂自己的孩子，同时发出女人哭泣般的声音，让船上的乘客大吃一惊。在同一天里，他看见三具尸体漂过，尸体胀得鼓鼓的，颜色发绿，上面站着好几只秃里。先漂过的是两具男尸，其中一具没有脑袋，后来漂过的是个年轻很小的女孩子的尸体，那蛇发女怪似的头发，在轮船荡起的水波中一浮一浮的。他始终没弄明白，也根本没有人知道，那些尸体到底是霍乱还是战争的牺牲品。但那催人呕吐的恶臭，却和他思念中的费尔米纳掺和在一起。

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历经多时，在他的幻觉里，任何事件，不管是好事还是坏事，都同她有着某种牵连。夜里，当船靠岸之后，大部分乘客都在无可奈何地走来走去的时候，他就着餐厅里的那盏油灯——唯一亮到天明的灯——差不多跟背诵似的再次阅读那些图文并茂的小册子。他反复看过无数遍的情节，经他把膳造出来的主人公换成现实生活中的他的熟人之后，又产生了绝无仅有的扭力。他总是把未成眷属的有情人的角色留给自己和费尔米纳。另外几个夜里，他给她写了一封又一封肝肠寸断的信，过后这些撕成碎片的信又在奔流不息的河水中东飘西散。就这样，捱度着那艰熬的时刻。

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有时他把自己想象成爱情故事中的羞羞答答的王子或者雄心勃勃的追求者，有时又把自己想象成跟真实命运一样的被遗忘的情人，直到吹来第一阵晨风的时候，他才坐到船栏杆旁边的靠背椅上打起肺儿来。

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有一天夜里，他比往常更早地停止了看书，心不在焉地朝厕所的方向走去。空荡荡的餐厅里，一道门突然在他走过的时候打开了，一只手以游隼般的敏捷抓住了他的袖子，把他拉进一间舱房锁了起来。昏暗中，他依稀感觉到有个年轻女人的一丝不挂的身体，她浑身热汗，喘着粗气，把他仰面推倒在席子上，解开他的腰带和扣子，然后张开四肢骑在他身上，以过来人的轻松愉快占有了他。两人挣扎着掉进了味同野虾繁衍的沼泽地似的无底的深渊。事毕，她喘息着在他身上躺了一会儿，然后消失在黑暗里。

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“您走吧，忘了它。”她说，“这事儿压根儿就没发生过。”

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这一突袭的闪电般的迅速和成功，不可能解释为令人恶心的突发性的疯狂举动，而是从从容容制订的计划的结果，而且连细节都考虑得很周到。这个叫人心里甜滋滋的信念，使阿里萨难舍难弃，在登峰造极的快感中，他觉得心里开了一个窍儿。

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这使他自己也无法相信，甚至还拒绝承认，那就是：费尔米纳的虚幻的爱情，可以用世俗的性爱来取代。于是，他千方百计地去辨认那个久经沙场的强好他的女人，她那豹子般的本能， 或许能弥补他失恋的不幸c他未能如愿以偿，相反他越是寻根问底，就觉得离现实越远。

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袭击发生在最末一间舱房，这间舱房和倒数第二间是通着的，中间只隔了一道内门，两间舱房实际上变成了四个铺位的家庭卧房。住在那里的是两个年轻女人，还有一个年纪已相当大仍然风姿绰约的女人，和一个只有几个月的婴儿。她们是在巴兰科?德洛瓦上船的，自从蒙波克斯市因河水变化无常而被从定期航线上排除出去，城里的客货都改成了从这个港日上船。阿里萨留心地看了她们一眼，仅仅是因为她们把睡着了的小孩放在一只巨大的鸟笼里带着走。

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她们的衣着跟在时髦的远洋船上旅行似的，丝绸裙子底下衬着裙撑，授皱领上镶着花边儿，帽子的阔活儿上缀着细布花。两个年轻的女人，身上的穿戴每天要从头到脚换几次，其他乘客都热得喘不过气来，她们却似独处于春光之中。三个女人撑伞摇羽毛扇的动作都很利落，似乎都怀有当时社交中神秘莫测的目的。

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她们无疑是一家人，但阿里萨却连她们之间是什么关系也没能搞清楚。起先，他以为年长的那个是另外两个的母亲，很快就发现她的年纪还不足以为她们之母，而且她还穿着半丧服，另外两个则没同她一样戴孝。他想不通，她们之中的一个怎么竟敢在另外两个近在腿尺的铺位上睡觉时干那种事儿。唯一合理的假设是，她利用了一个偶然的机会，或者是一个看准了的机会，当时只有她一个人在舱房里。他证实了，有时候两个人去乘凉，直到很晚才回来，第三个则留下来照看孩子。但在更热的一天夜里，三个人一块儿出去了，睡熟了的小孩放在藤鸟笼里，外面罩着细纱篷。

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虽然霍乱的蛛丝马迹露出了端倪，阿里萨还是急急忙忙地排除了那个年长者施行袭击的可能性，接着又把最年轻的那个也排除了。她最漂亮，也最大胆。他这么做并没有充足的理由，仅仅因为三个女人那种聚集会神的警觉性诱发他从内心深处形成了一种愿望，他希望鸟笼里的孩子的妈妈是他的露水情人。这种假设深深地诱惑着他，他开始比思念费尔米纳更强烈地思念着她了，使他忽视了那位刚刚做母亲的人显然只把孩子放在心上这一显而易见的事实。她不会超过二十五岁，身段苗条，头发金黄，葡萄牙人似的眼皮，有着拒人于千里之外的气质。她对孩子那份柔情的零头，就足以使任何一个男人倾倒。从吃早饭到上床就寝，在另外两个女人玩中国棋的时候，她一直在餐厅里照管孩子，把孩子哄睡以后，她就把藤鸟笼挂在最凉爽的一侧栏杆顶上。然后又轻轻地摇着笼子，牙缝儿里哼着情歌，思绪则离开了枯燥的旅行，飞翔着。阿里萨深信，只要哪怕是递过去一道眼波，她或迟或早都将抿嘴儿一乐。他目不转睛地盯着她，从她拴在细亚麻布内衣外面的珍品的一起一伏的频率中，对她的呼吸是变快还是变慢了都—一看在眼里。他从假装在看着的那本书的上面望过去，毫不掩饰地盯着她。他还处心积虑地惹人注目地更换了在餐厅就餐的位置，坐到了她的对面。然而，他连说明她确实是那个保藏着他的另一半秘密的最微小的迹象都看不到。她留给他的唯一的东西，就是那个不带姓氏的名字：罗萨尔瓦——因为她那位年轻的同伴这么叫过她。

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第八天，轮船吃力地在悬崖峭壁之间的水流湍急的狭窄河道里航行，吃过午饭，便停靠在纳雷港了。继续前往安蒂奠基亚省——受新的内战为害最甚的省份之——内地的乘客们得在那里下船。港口就是五六间用棕相叶盖的茅屋和一个锌顶木头仓库，几支由赤脚无鞋、武器简陋的士兵组成的巡逻队在保卫着它。有消息说，暴动的人们正计划抢掠轮船。茅屋后面，是直插云天的荒草丛生的群山。陡峭的河岸边，山被削成一个马蹄形飞檐斗拱。船上的人没有一个能安然入梦，但整整一夜，安然无恙，并没遭到袭击。天亮之后，港口变成了礼拜日集市，印第安人挤在整装待发奔向中科迪雷拉斯山去作六天登山旅行的马帮中，兜售木寄生护身符和爱情琼浆。

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阿里萨饶有兴致地看着黑人们肩挑背扛地卸船，他看见搬下去的用竹筐装着的中国瓷器，给恩比加多独身姑娘们送去的大钢琴。当他发现下船的乘客中有罗萨尔瓦一行时，已经为时太晚了。他看见她们半侧身趴在黑人的背上，穿着亚马逊靴子，撑着带赤道地区颜色的遮阳伞，这时他迈出了前些日子没敢迈出的一步：挥手向罗萨尔瓦作了个告别的动作，三个女人答之以同样的动作，那股亲切劲儿，使他为自己的迟暮的大胆而心疼不已。他目送着她们在仓库后面拐了个弯，几条骡子驮着衣箱、盛帽的盒子和装小孩的那只鸟笼跟在她们后面，她们象一串搬东西的小蚂蚁似的，在河岸边的悬崖峭壁上左弯右拐地爬行。接着，她们从他的生活里消失了。这时，他觉得自己在世界上形单影只，埋在心灵深处的对费尔米纳的怀念，突然给了他致命的一击。

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他知道她将于这周礼拜六结婚，婚礼将会十分热闹，他这个最爱她而且将永远爱她的人，甚至连为她而死的权利都得不到。被压抑在哭泣中的醋意，此时占据了他的整个心灵。他恳求上帝，让上天的正义闪电在费尔米纳准备发誓热爱和服从一个仅仅只想把她当做社交花瓶而娶她为妻的男人时把她击死，而他则在情人——他的情人或任何人的情人——的眼前幸灾乐祸。她仰面朝天地倒卧在大教堂的瓷砖地上，死亡的露珠，化成雪白的柠檬花流淌在瓷砖地面上，那瀑布般的婚纱，被散在埋在主祭坛前面的十四位主教的大理石棺材上。这复仇的念头一结束，他又为自己的坏心肠而感到后悔，这时他又看见费尔米纳安详地呼出一口气，从地上爬了起来，她虽然变成了另一个人，却是活生生的，他不能想象，世界上没有她还能成其为世界。他再没有睡着过，有时候他坐起来随便嚼了点什么东西，那也是因为在他的幻觉中费尔米纳和他坐在同一张桌子上，或者与此相反，那是他拒绝因为她而绝食。

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有时候，他以这个信念来安慰自己：在纸醉金迷的婚礼上，甚至在蜜月的如火如荼的夜晚，费尔米纳会在某个时刻感到痛心，至少在一个时刻，但无论如何会有一个时刻，在她的良心里，会浮现他这个被嘲弄了的，被侮辱了的，被唾弃了的情人的影子，而那就会使她失去幸福。

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在抵达卡拉科利港——旅程的终点站——前夕，船长举行了传统的告别晚会，船员组成了一支吹奏乐队，驾驶室里放起了五颜六色的焰火。那位大不列颠公使，以堪称楷模的克制度过了难熬的旅程，他用照相机猎获那些不准他用猎枪宰杀的野兽，而且没有一个晚上不是衣装笔挺地到餐厅去的。在最后的晚会上，他换上了梦克塔维氏部族的苏格兰上装，乐颠颠地弹了一回键弦琴，教所有愿意学的人跳他的民族舞，天亮前，人们不得不把他半扶半拖地弄回舱房。被痛苦折磨得萎顿不堪的阿里萨，躲在甲板上最偏僻的角落里，躲在听不见欢闹声的地方，把特乌古特的大衣裹在身上，试图抵御发自骨子里头的寒冷。早上五点钟他就醒了，如同一个死囚在赴刑前的早晨醒来时一样。 礼拜六整整一天，除f一分钟一分钟他想象着费尔米纳的婚礼上的每个时刻之外，他没做过任何事情。后来，当他回到家里以后，他才发现他把时间搞错了，而且一切都跟他的想象是两码事，他甚至开心地为自己的胡思乱想而感到好笑。

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然而，无论如何那是一个痛苦的礼拜六，当他觉得到了新婚夫妇正从一道假门逃走，去享受初夜欢娱的那个时刻的时候，他以高烧结束了那个礼拜六。一个看见他烧得胡言乱语的人报告了船长，船长担心是一起霍乱病例，就带着随船医生离开厂晚会，医生预防性地把他送进堆满溪化物的隔离船舱。可是第二天，当人们看到卡拉科利的礁石的时候，他的烧退了，而且精神焕发，因为退烧药使他筋疲力尽之时，他已快刀斩乱麻地作出了决定：让那个所谓电报员的辉煌前程见鬼去吧，还是乘坐这同一条船回他的卡列?德拉斯?文塔纳斯去。

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以他曾把舱房让给维多利亚王国的代表为交换条件，要求把他送回原地是不费事的。船长试图说服他，理由也是电报是大有前途的科学。船长对他说，这是于真万确的，他本人也正在发明一种电报系统来安装在轮船上。但他拒绝了种种理由，末了船长只好同意带他回去，并不是因为欠了他让出舱房的情，而是因为船长知道他同加勒比内河航运公司之间的真实关系。

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下水旅程只用了不到六天时间，轮船在凌晨驶入梅塞德斯湖。看见捕鱼独木舟的一线灯火在轮船激起的回头浪中摇曳，阿里萨意识到他又回到了自己的家园。轮船停靠在尼尼奥?佩迪多港湾的时候，天还黑着，在古老的西班牙海峡疏浚并使用之前，那里是内河轮船的终点站，离大海湾还有九西班牙里。乘客们必须等到早晨六点才能登上出租小艇，让小艇把他们送到目的地。阿里萨心急如焚，登上邮局的小艇提前走了，邮局职员们把他视为自己人。下轮船之前，他一时冲动，做了个意味深长的举动：把行李卷扔进水里，目送着它在看不清面目的渔民们的火把照射下漂浮，直到它漂出海湾，在茫茫大海中消失。他坚信在有生之年不会再需要它了，永远不会了，他永远不会再离开费尔米纳居住的这个城市了。

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黎明，海湾风平浪静。越过浮在海面上的泡沫，阿里萨看见了被第一抹朝霞染成金色的大教堂的圆顶，看见了教堂平台上的鸽子群，随着鸽子的飞翔，他看见了卡萨尔杜埃罗侯爵府第的阳台。他想，那个使他陷入不幸的女人，大概还在那座宫殿里睡眼惺松地倚在她那心满意足的丈夫的肩膀上哩。这个推测使他感到一阵心肝俱裂的痛苦，但他没做任何压抑这种痛苦的尝试，恰恰相反，他为痛苦而高兴。邮局的小艇在停靠着的帆船组成的迷宫里穿行，太阳已经热乎乎的了，公共市场上的不胜枚举的各种气味儿和海底散发出来的腐臭混杂在一起，形成了一种恶臭。来自里约阿查的那艘轻便船刚刚到港，一群群码头工人。站在齐腰的水里迎接下船的旅客，把他们背到岸上。阿里萨第一个从邮局的小艇跳到岸上，从那时起，他就没再闻到海湾的熏人臭气，而是闻到了从城里传出来的费尔米纳的特有气味。一切都散发着她的气味。

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他没再到电报局去。他唯一关心的，似乎就是那些爱情故事小册子和他母亲继续给他买的那些人民图书馆出的书籍，他躺在吊床上，一遍又一遍地阅读，直到背熟。他问都没问小提琴在什么地方。他恢复了同最密切的朋友们的联系，有时也去打弹子球，或者到大教堂广场的拱门下边的露天咖啡馆去聊天，但再没参加过礼拜六的舞会：没有她，他提不起跳舞的兴致未了。

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就在他中止旅程返回家里的当天上午，他得知费尔米纳正在欧洲度蜜月，他的心告诉他，她将留在欧洲居住，如果不是住一辈子，也一定会住许多年。这个念头，使他燃起了忘却往事的第一线希望。他思念罗萨尔瓦，旁的思念越淡薄，对她的思念就越炽热。就在这个期间，他开始蓄起胡子来，修剪得尖尖的整整齐齐的，决意这一辈子都不再剃掉它。他的行为举止改变了模样，取代爱情的想法使他慌不择路。

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渐渐地，费尔米纳的气味不是那么经常出现和浓郁了，最后仅仅留在白振子花里了。

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他整天浑浑噩噩，不知道如何继续生活下去。在奥贝索将军发动叛乱包围城市期间，一个战火纷飞的晚上，远近闻名的纳萨雷特的遗编丧魂落魄地逃到他的家里，她的家被一发炮弹轰塌了。特兰西托当机立断抓住这个机会，把寡妇领进了儿子的卧室，其借口是她自己的卧室时没地方了，实际上她是希望用另一个爱情使儿子从那个痛不欲生的爱情中摆脱出来。被罗萨尔瓦在船舱里夺去重贞之后，阿里萨没有再做过爱，他觉得在出现紧急情况的夜里，让那位寡妇睡床，自己睡吊床是不足为怪的。但她已经决定为他奉献了，她坐在床边上——床上躺着的阿里萨不知所措——开始讲她为三年前死去的丈夫感到无法慰藉的痛苦，边讲边把身上的作为守丧标志的皱纱扯下来扔掉，最后连结婚戒指也摘下来了。她脱下绣着玻璃珠花的塔夫绸内衣，扔在屋子另一头的一个角落里的靠背椅上，她把乳罩从肩膀上往后一扔，甩在床的另一头。她褪下了齐脚面的长裙子，镶边衬裙，解开了缎子腰带，脱下了守丧穿的长统丝袜，满地乱扔，整个屋子都铺上了她守丧的各种穿戴。她眉飞色舞地做着这一切，动作之间的停歇恰到好处，似乎她的每个表情都有进攻部队的炮声祝贺，炮声震得整个城市的地基都在颤抖。阿里萨想帮她解开紧身腰带的扣子，但她动作烟熟地抢先解开了，在五年的甜蜜夫妻生活中，她学会了独立完成做爱的各个程序，包括前奏，不需要任何人的协助。最后，她以游泳运动员的快速动作让镶边内裤从大腿上滑了下去。

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她已经二十八岁，并且生过三次孩子，脱掉衣服之后，她那勾魂夺魄的魅力丝毫不减做处女时的当年。阿里萨百思不得其解，几件悔罪者的衣服，怎么竟能掩饰住那匹山区小母马的情欲。她在欲火的焚烧下，替他脱掉了衣服，她对她丈夫都没有这样做过，那是怕丈夫把她看做是个堕落的女人。她试图一举满足在守丧期间绝对禁铜的情欲，还是在五年忠实的夫妻生活中的无所适从和无辜。在这天晚上之前，自从她母亲把她降生人间，她从来没有同已故丈夫以外的任何男人在同一张床上一起呆过。

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她没有因良心的谴责而内疚，恰恰相反。从房顶上呼啸而过的一个个火球使她难以人睡，她继续叙述着丈夫的美德，直到天明，除了抛下她而死去之外，她没责备丈夫任何一点不忠。最后，她聊以自慰地说，丈夫从来没有象现在这样完完全全属于她，他已躺在一个用十二颗三英寸长的钉子钉好的棺材里，埋在离地面两公尺深的地方。

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“我感到幸福。”她说。“因为只有现在我才于真万确地知道，他不在家里的时候呆在什么地方。”

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那天晚上她就除了丧，干净利落，用不着再经过那个穿灰色小花内衣的百无聊赖的过渡阶段。情歌和色彩斑斓、撩人心弦的衣服充满了她的生活，她开始把肉体奉献给一切愿意向她索求的人。城市被包围七十三天之后，奥贝索将军的队伍被击溃了。她修复了被炮弹撤掉房顶的家，并在礁石上修了一座漂亮的临海阳台，在刮大风的时候，可以从阳台上领略到巨浪的威力。这里是她的爱情之巢，她并非自嘲地这么自许。在那里，她只接待她所喜爱的人，在她愿意的时候以她愿意的方式接待，不向任何人收取分毫，因为在她看来，那是男人们在施小惠于她。有很少那么几次，她接受过小礼物，但这些礼物都不是黄金做的。她待人接物极有分寸，谁也无法挑剔出她行为不端的铁定事实。只有一回，她差点儿当众出丑，传闻红衣主教但丁?德?鲁纳不是误吃蘑菇致死，而是有意服毒自杀，因为她曾威胁他说，如果他继续死皮赖脸地纠缠她，她将用刀抹脖子。谁也没追问过她，那件事是否属实，她也一直闭口不提，她的生活也没有丝毫改变。她捧腹大笑地说，她是全省唯一的自由女人。

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就是在最忙的时候，纳萨雷特的遣编也没对阿里萨的偶然之约爽约，而且是一向不抱着爱上他或者被他爱上的想法去的，虽然她始终希望找到某种既是爱情又不受爱情牵累的生活方式。有几次，是他到她家里去，在这种场合，他俩喜欢呆在海边的阳台上，浑身让充满硝味儿的海水泡沫淋个透湿，观赏曙光从地平线上升起，照亮整个世界。相当长一段时间，阿里萨都蒙在鼓里，以为他是她私通的唯一的男人，而她也乐得他这么认为，直到有一次她不巧说了梦话为止。听着她逐渐睡熟，他一点一滴地把她梦中的航海日志碎片拼凑起来，进入了她的秘密生活中的许许多多岛屿。于是，他心里明白了，她并不想委身于他，但又觉得同他的生活联系在一起了，因为她无限感激他，是他使她开始堕落的。有许多次，她这么对他说过：“我崇拜你，因为是你把我变成了娼妇。”

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换个方式说，她这样说是不无道理的。阿里萨毁掉了她的正常夫妇的贞洁，这比毁掉童贞和编居守志更有过之而无不及。他教唆她说，如果对维持永恒的爱情有益，床上无论做什么都算不上不道德。自从那时起，某种东西就非成为其生活的信条不可了：他让她深信不疑，一个人降生尘世，带来的“灰尘”是有数的，由于任何一个原因——自己的也好，他人的也好，自愿的也好，被迫的也好——而不加使用，就算永远失去了。她的功劳是，把这一切都毫发不爽地吸收了。然而，阿里萨却弄不明白，因为他想比任何人都更了解她，为什么一个本领十分有限的，而且在床上会谋碟不休地谈她因丈夫去世而感到痛苦的女人，竟会受到那么多人追求。他想起来的唯一的原因是——谁也无法否认这一点——纳萨雷特的遗嫣功夫不足，但温柔有余。随着她逐渐扩大控制范围，同时也是随着他探讨自己的控制范围，试图在另一些人的心中寻求减轻自己往昔的痛苦，他们见面逐渐少了，最后终于没有痛苦地相互忘却了。

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那里阿里萨的第一次枕席之欢，但他并没有象母亲梦想的那样同那个编妇稳定地结合，两个人都借此投入了生活。阿里萨发明了一些对他这么个人来说似乎是不可思议的方法，他寡言少语，表现腼腆，打扮得象个老古董。不过，他具备两点优势。其一，是慧眼无误，他一眼就能看出有那种愿望的女人来，哪怕是在一大群人里也一样，尽管如此，他还是小心翼翼地追求她，他觉得没有什么比遭到拒绝给人以更大的羞耻和侮辱了。另一点优势是，她们能一眼看出他是个需要爱情的光棍，一个流浪街头的穷光蛋，跟挨了捷的狗一样谦恭。他会无条件地听她们摆布，什么都不要，除了心安理得地跟他做爱之外，她们对他也无所企求。这两点优势是他的唯一武器，凭着这两个武器，他展开了历史性的然而又是绝对陷蔽的战斗，这些战斗都以公证人般的一丝不苟记录在一个暗语本里，其标题为。她们。第一次记录，他记的是纳萨雷特的遗漏。五十年之后，当费尔米纳解脱圣礼判决获得自由的时候，他已经积攒了二十五个本子，记录在册的连贯性爱情达六百二十二次之多，此外还有无数建场作戏的风流韵事，他连发善心似的记录都不屑一作。

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肆无忌惮地和纳萨雷特的遣编恩恩爱爱六个月后，阿里萨本人也确信他已经战胜了费尔米纳对他的打击。他不仅自己这么认为，而且在费尔米纳那差不多持续了两年之久的结婚旅行期间，他还向母亲特兰西托谈过好几次，他一直这么自信，直到一个倒霉的礼拜日，他心里无任何预感地突然看见了她。她望完大弥撒出来，挎着丈夫的胳膊，新环境的围观和奉承使她一筹莫展。那些原先曾对她嗤之以鼻并嘲笑她是个没有名气的暴发户的贵妇人，热切地向她问长问短，她们觉得她已经是她们中的一员，而她呢，也以自己的迷人风姿和她们打成一片。她那么自然而然地变成一个俗里俗气的妇道人家，阿里萨脑子里转了好几个圈儿才认出她来。她已今非昔比了：一身成年人的打扮，高筒靴子，轻罗纱帽子上插着一支东方的鸟毛，她身上的一切都变了，而且是轻而易举地变了，仿佛她天生就是这样的。他发现她显得空前的美丽和年轻，但可望而不可及，跟过去一样。没看见那宽绸衣下面隆起的肚子时，他还不明白是怎么回事儿：她已经有六个月身孕了。不过，他印象最深的是，她和她的丈夫是令人赞叹的一对，待人接物都应对如流，仿佛超然于现实中的暗礁之外。阿里萨既不觉得妒忌，也没觉得愤怒，而是深深地自崭形秽。他觉得自己贫穷、丑陋，低人一等，不仅不配得到她，而且也不配得到尘世间的任何女人。

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她回来了，对生活中的巨变没有任何后悔地回来了。不仅不后悔，而且越来越不后悔，尤其是经受了头几年的挫折之后，到新婚之夜她还守身如玉，这对她来说就更加难能可贵。她到表姐伊尔德布兰达那个省去旅行的时候，就开始清窦初开，懂得男女间的事了。在瓦列杜帕尔镇，她终于明白了公鸡干吗围着母鸡咯咯乱叫，她看见了驴子交配的粗暴场面，看见了生小驴犊的场面，还听见表姐妹们那些不知羞耻的议论。

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她的婚礼是上世纪末叶最热闹的婚礼之一，她是怀着大祸临头的忐忑不安举行婚礼的。对蜜月的焦虑，比她嫁给一个当时是独一无二的贵族所引起的飞长流短给她的打击还要厉害。自从在大教堂的大弥撒上散发结婚公告，费尔米纳又开始收到匿名恐吓信，有几封信威胁说要杀死她。但她对这些恐吓信只是源一眼而已，因为她能感受到的全部恐惧，都集中在她行将被奸污这一点上了。虽然她不是有意加以蔑视，却成为她对付那些藏头露尾的人的正确方式，那个阶级对历史性的嘲讽已经习以为常，在既成事实面前低头就是。就这样，随着大家得知婚礼日益不可阻挡，一切作对的人都慢慢站到了她的一边。她从那些被关节炎和伤感在去青春的脸色苍白的女人逐步升级的奉承话里发现了这一点。她们终究有一天明白了，自己的阴谋诡计是无济于事的，于是便不约而至地到福音公园造访，仿佛出入于自己的家门，并带给她烹调手册和一些表示吉祥的小礼品。

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特兰西托对这些情况是熟悉的，但只有这一次才感受到切肤之痛。她知道她的顾客们在有重大庆典的前夕才重新露面，求她把那些埋在地下的罐子刨出来，把典当的首饰借给她们暂用二十四小时，付给她一分附加利息。很久没有出现过这种情况了，罐子被掏得一空，用长串字母作姓名的太太们穿是珠光宝气，一扫平素的寒酸劲儿，戴着早已抵押出去的首饰去参加婚礼。

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如此盛大的婚礼，在本世纪是空前绝后的。最后的高潮是，由努涅斯博士为他们主婚，根据当时从最新词典上可以查阅得到的资料，他曾三度出任共和国总统，是哲学家、诗人和国歌歌词的作者。费尔米纳挽着父亲的手臂走上大教堂的主祭坛，名贵的衣装在一天之中赋予父亲一种值得尊重的假象。三圣节那天，即礼拜五上午十一点，在一个由三位主教共同主持的弥撒仪式上，她站在主祭坛前面，义无反顾地结婚了，连怜悯一下阿里萨的念头都没有闪过。这时候，阿里萨正躺在那艘不该载他的被忘却的轮船的甲板上，发高烧，说胡话，愿意为她而死。在仪式上，在婚礼结束之后，她脸上始终挂着宛如用白铅粉固定了的微笑，有些人认为这种表情是因胜利而自我解嘲的微笑，然而实际上是她用以掩饰新婚处女的恐惧的微薄的资本。

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幸而，出乎意料的情况和丈夫的谅解使她头三夜没有经受痛苦。神灵暗依。远洋总公司那艘船，因加勒比海气候不好而改变了时刻表，仅仅三天前才通知要提前二十四小时启航，这样一来，就不能像六个月以前确定的那样在婚礼翌日才驶到里约阿查去，而是当夜就走。没有一个人相信，这个变化不是婚礼上的许许多多的高雅恶作剧之一。在灯火辉煌的船上，婚礼于午夜之后结束，一个维也纳乐团——它曾为约翰?斯特劳斯最新的圆舞曲举行过首演式——为婚礼伴奏。几位被香槟酒灌得醉醺醺的伴郎，正在询问船上的招待员，有没有空舱房把婚礼一直进行到巴黎时，被他们的急得象热锅上的蚂蚁似的太太拖到了岸上。最后下船的几位，看见洛伦桑?达萨正坐在港口酒店门前的街道上，那身华贵的衣服已经扯了个稀巴烂。他大声嚎哭， 跟阿拉伯人为死去的亲人号丧一样的号陶不止c他坐在一条臭水沟上，那汪臭水，简直可以说是眼泪汇成的水洼。

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在风急浪高的第一天夜里，在以后的风平浪静的夜里，以至在他们漫长的夫妻生活中的任何时候，都没有发生过费尔米纳原先担心的粗暴。第一夜，虽然轮船是艘巨舰，舱房也富丽堂皇，但完全是里约阿查轻便船上的可怖情况的再现。她的丈夫是位殷勤细心的医生，为了安慰她，衣不解带，没合过一会儿眼皮，那是一位高明过分的医生所知道的用以对付晕船的唯一招数。不过，到第三天，过了瓜依拉港口之后，风暴停息了，他们呆在一起也已很久，进行过长时间的交谈，彼此已是老朋友了。第四夜，两人都恢复了正常习惯，乌尔比诺医生吃惊地发现，他那年轻的妻子在睡觉前不做祈祷。她对他实言相告：修女们的两面派行径，使她对宗教礼仪产生了对抗情绪，但她的信仰没有受到损伤，学会了默默地保持信仰。她说：“我情愿直接同上帝交心。”他对她的理由表示理解，从那时起，两人就按照各自的方式信奉同一种宗教。他们有过一段短暂的恋爱时期，但就当时而言，是相当非正式的，乌尔比诺医生到她家去看她，没有人在旁边监视，每天傍晚都去。在主教祝福之前，她连指头都不允许他碗一下，而他呢，也没试图碰过。那是风平浪静的第一夜，他们都已躺在床上，仍然穿着白天的衣服，他开始进行爱抚，做得极有分寸，当他建议应该换上睡衣时，她觉得是顺理成章的。她到厕所去换衣服，在此之前，她把舱房里的灯关了，换上睡衣出来时，她用抹布把门缝塞住，在伸手不见掌的黑暗中回到床上。她一边这么做，一边开心地说：“你想怎么样，大夫。这是我第一次跟陌生人睡觉。”

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乌尔比诺医生感觉到她象只惊慌失措的小动物滑到了他身边，竭力离他远一点。

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在那张床上，两个人躺在一起又不互相接触是难以做到的。他抓住她的手，觉得冰凉，因害怕而瑟瑟发抖。他把自己的手指和她的手指交织在一起，几乎是耳语般地对她讲起了过去的渡海旅行。她又变得紧张起来，因为她回到床上的时候，发现他已乘她就厕之机把身上的衣服脱光了，这使她又一次产生了对下一步行动的恐怖。

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但下步行动拖延了好几个小时，乌尔比诺医生继续十分缓慢地说着，一毫米一毫米地获得她的信任。他对她谈巴黎，谈巴黎的爱情，谈巴黎的情人们在大街上、在公共汽车里、在炎炎夏日回荡着手风琴的忧郁曲调的咖啡馆里的百花盛开的阳台上亲吻，在塞纳港的码头上做爱，谁也不去惊扰他们。黑暗中，他一边说一边用手指抚摸她的脖颈，抚摸她胳膊上柔软如丝的茸毛，抚摸她躲躲闪闪的肚腹，当他觉得她已消除了紧张的时候，做了掀开她的睡袍的第一次尝试，她以其性格的特有冲动制止了他。她说：“我自己知道怎么做。”说到做到，她真的把睡衣脱了，然后一动不动地躺着，要不是她的洞体在黑暗中微微闪光，乌尔比诺医生还以为她已经不在那里了。

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又过了一会儿，他又抓住她的手，觉得她的手暖乎乎的，放松了，还沁着细细的香汗，潮乎乎的。他们又一言不发，一动不动地呆了一会儿，他在窥测看进行下步行动的机会，她呢，不知从何处开始地等着，船房里越来越暗了，她的呼吸越来越急促。他突然放开她的手，跳了起来，用舌头舔湿中指，轻轻地碰了一下她那毫无思想准备的乳头，她觉得被电致命地去了一下，仿佛他碰着了她的一根活神经。

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她庆幸是在黑暗中，没让他看见自己那滚烫的、使全身痉挛直透脑髓的羞红。“别害怕。”他对她说，声音十分平静。“别忘了我是曾经见识过它们的。”他听到她妹妹笑着，她的声音在黑暗中显得甜蜜而新鲜。

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“我记得清清楚楚。”她说，“而且我的气儿还没消呢。”

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这时，他明白他们已经使美好的希望俯首就范了，便又抓住她那又小又柔软的手，把热切的亲吻印了上去，先是吻在粗糙的手背上、鲜润的长长的手指头上、透明的指甲上，后来又吻在布满她的命运的线纹的汗津津的手掌上，她不知道自己的手怎么伸到了他的胸膛上，碰到了一片她没能捉摸出来的东西。他对她说：“这是块避邪披肩。”她抚摸他胸口上的汗毛，然后用五根指头抓住那整个一片，要把它连根拔出。“再大点劲儿。”他说。她试着加了加劲儿，加到她知道不致揪痛他为止，然后用自己的手去寻找他那只消失在黑暗里的手。但他没让她的手指和自己的手指交织在一起，而是一把抓住她的手腕，以一种无形的然而是恰到好处的力量把她的手扯到自己身上的各个部位。跟她的想象相反，甚至她跟她可能的想象相反，她没有把手缩回来。

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她开心地笑了，笑得极其自然，他抓住这一机会拥抱了她，并在她的嘴上印下了第一个吻。她回吻他，他继续很轻很轻地吻她的双颊、鼻子、眼皮。她没有推开他的手，但自己的手却处于戒备状态，准备制止他再迈出下一步。她想起来的掩饰羞赧的唯一动作是吊在丈夫的脖子上，深深地非常用力地吻他。

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他心里明白，他并不爱她。他娶她是因为他喜欢她那股傲劲儿，喜欢她的沉着，喜欢她的力量，同时也是因为他的一点虚荣心。然而，当她第一次吻他的时候，他确信，要建立深厚的爱情是毫无问题的。新婚之夜他们海阔天空地一直谈到天亮，但没有谈及这一点，而且任何时候也用不着谈这个。从长远看，两人谁也没选错对方。

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天亮的时候，他们睡着了，她仍然是个处子，但做处子的时间不会很长了。果然，第二天夜里，在加勒比海的湛蓝的天空下，他教她跳过维也纳华尔兹舞之后，等他上完厕所回到舱房一看，她已经脱了衣服在床上等他了。是她采取了主动，毫不胆怯，毫无痛苦地怀着在深海里做爱的喜悦把自己交给了他。

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他们在欧洲住了十六个月，以巴黎为基地，不时到邻国去作短暂旅行。在这期间，他们每天都做鱼水之欢，在冬季的礼拜日里，一天还不止一次，躺在床上调笑嬉戏直到开午饭。他是个精力充沛的男人，而且训练有素，她呢，生来就是个不甘落后的女人，于是他们不得不赞同两人在床上的本事是半斤八两不分轻重。经过三个月热火朝天的夫妻生活之后，他明白了，两个人有一个是没有生育能力的，两人都到他当过住院医生的萨尔佩特列雷医院去做过认真的检查。那是件艰苦然而又是劳而无功的事情。可是，在他们没想到的时候，在没有采取任何科学措施的情况下，奇迹发生了。第二年年底，他们回到家里的时候，费尔米纳已经怀有六个月身孕，她认为自己是普天之下最幸福的女人。两人朝思暮想的儿子，在一个黄道吉日顺利地降生了，为了纪念死于霍乱的祖父，给他取了个和祖父相同的名字。

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无从知道，究竟是欧洲之行还是爱情使他们起了变化，因为两件事情是同时发生的。正如阿里萨在那个倒霉的礼拜日，在他们回家两周之后看见他们望完弥撒出来的时候发觉的情况一样，两人都变了，深刻地变了，不仅他们自己相互之间的关系变了，而且同整个外界的关系都变了。他们带着对生活的新观念、带着世界上的新鲜事物回来了，而且准备向他人灌输。他带着文学。音乐尤其是科学方面的新知识回来了。为了不跟现实脱节、他订了一份《费加罗报》；为了不跟诗歌脱节，还订了一份辆个世界杂志》。此外，他还同他在巴黎的书商达成了一项协议，让书商给他寄畅销书作家们的新作，比如阿纳托尔?法郎土和皮尔?洛蒂的，给他寄他最喜爱的作家如雷美?德?古尔盖和保罗?蒲尔杰的新作，但无论如何不要爱弥尔?左拉的书，他认为左拉的书难以卒读，虽然左拉对达率的观念有勇敢的突破。那个书商还答应给他邮寄里科迪样本中最精彩的新作，特别是关于室内音乐的，以便维持他父亲当之无愧地取得该市首屈一指的音乐会发起人的称号。

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费尔米纳始终同时髦背道而弛，她带回了六箱过时的衣服，名牌服装并没有使她动心。隆冬季节，她到巴黎故宫去参加无可争议的高级服装之王沃斯的服装展销会，唯一收获是患了气管炎，卧床五天。她认为拉菲雷里不是那么野心勃勃和贪婪，她的明智决策是把旧货店里她所喜爱的衣服抢购一空，虽然丈夫谈虎色变地发誓说那些是死人的衣服。同时，她带回了许多没有商标的意大利鞋，她认为这比菲雷那些闻名退还的光怪陆离的鞋更好。她还带回了一把杜布伊伞，伞的颜色眼地狱之火一样红，使我们那些惊愕不已的新闻记者们产生了许多灵感。她只买了一顶雷包克斯夫人牌帽子，但却买了满满一箱假樱桃枝、她所看到的毡毛做的各种花束、一把一把的鸵鸟羽毛、孔雀毛帽子、亚洲公鸡的尾巴毛、整只的野鸡、蜂鸟，还有无数的稀奇古怪的晒干了的鸟，有的正在展翅飞翔，有的正在张嘴高唱，有的正在垂死挣扎，这些鸟在她晚年的二十个春秋里，使她那些旧帽子不断推陈出新。她还带回来一套世界各国的扇子，每一把都各有特色，无一雷同，适用于各种场合。她还带回来一瓶她从“查里特杂货铺”里的许多香水中挑选出来的气味浓烈的香水，足够她用到春风吹走她的骨灰，但她只用了一次就不用了，因为换了香水之后使她失去了自我感觉。另外，她还带回来一个化妆品盒，那是诱人的市场上的最新产品，她是把化妆品盒带到晚会上去的第一个女人，当时仅仅当众涂脂抹粉，就会被视为不正经。

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除了以上这些，他们还带回三个不可磨灭的记忆叫霍夫曼故事集》在巴黎盛况空前的首次发行；圣马可广场对面差不多焚毁了威尼斯所有平底小艇的那场令人丧胆的大火，他们是从下榻的旅馆窗户里痛心疾首地亲眼目睹的；一月下第一场雪时，匆匆瞥见奥斯卡?王尔德。除了以上这些和其它许多经历之外，乌尔比诺医生还深深保留着一个回忆，由于当时没能和妻子共享，他一直深以为憾。那时他还是单身汉，在巴黎负复从师时代的事情。那是关于对维克多?雨果的回忆，且不说他的著作，雨果当时在巴黎的名声已是如雷贯耳，据说他曾经说过——实际上谁也没亲耳听到过——哥伦比亚的宪法不适用于人的国度，而适用于天使的国度。从那时起，人们就对他特别崇拜，我国为数众多的到法国去旅行的同胞中，大部分人都不遗余力地谋求和他一见。有那么五、六个学生——乌尔比诺也是其中之——有一阵经常守候在伊留大道的雨果寓所对面，守候在据说他准会去但始终没有去过的咖啡馆里，最后他们以里约内格罗的宪法天使的名义，书面请求安排一次私人约会，始终未见回音。有一天，乌尔比诺偶然经过卢森堡公园，看见雨果正从参议院出来，一个年轻的女人挽着他的胳膊。只见他老态龙钟，步履蹒跚，胡须和头发都没有画象上那么浓密，身上那件大衣也似乎是属于一个比他更魁梧的人物。他不愿让一次冒昧的问题毁坏对雨果的回忆，这近乎虚幻的一瞥就足以使他终生难忘了。当他结婚后再到巴黎去，具备更正式地会晤他的条件时，维克多?雨果早已经不在人世了。

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可以聊以自慰的是， 乌尔比诺和费尔米纳共同经历i一件事情。那是在一个大雪纷飞的下午，一群人冒着暴风雪堵在圣芳济会大道上的一个小书店门日，这引起了他们的注意，原来奥斯卡?王尔德正在那个书店里。他终于出来了，果然气宇不凡，但也许他过分意识到自己的身分了，那群人围住他，要求他在他的著作上签名。

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乌尔比诺医生停下来只是想看看王尔德，他那冲动的妻子却想横穿大道去让王尔德签字，因为手头没有书，她认为唯一合适的是签在她那漂亮的羚羊皮手套上，手套长长的，光滑柔软，跟她那新娘子的皮肤色调相同。她确信，一个学问渊博的男人准会欣赏她的这个举动。然而，丈夫坚决反对，当她不听他的劝告硬要那么做的时候，他觉得羞愧至极。

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“如果你穿过这条街，”他对她说，“那么你回来的时候就只能看见我的尸体了。”

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那是她的某种天性，结婚前一年，她照样大大咧咧地到处东游西走，就跟她从小在阴沉的大沼泽地的圣?胡安省贫民区里逛来逛去一样，仿佛她生来就知道那样做似的。她和陌生人自来熟的本事，使丈夫目瞪口呆，而且她还具备用西班牙语在任何地方同任何人交流思想的神奇本领。“语言吗，当你去卖东西的时候，那是应该懂的。”她笑着以讥讽的语调说，“如果是买东西，懂不懂倒没关系。”很难想象，一个人怎么会那么快而且那么欢天喜地就适应了巴黎的日常生活，虽然巴

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AT THE AGE of twenty-eight, Dr. Juvenal Urbino had been the most desirable of bachelors. Hehad returned from a long stay in Paris, where he had completed advanced studies in medicine andsurgery, and from the time he set foot on solid ground he gave overwhelming indications that hehad not wasted a minute of his time. He returned more fastidious than when he left, more incontrol of his nature, and none of his contemporaries seemed as rigorous and as learned as he inhis science, and none could dance better to the music of the day or improvise as well on the piano.

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Seduced by his personal charms and by the certainty of his family fortune, the girls in his circleheld secret lotteries to determine who would spend time with him, and he gambled, too, on beingwith them, but he managed to keep himself in a state of grace, intact and tempting , until hesuccumbed without resistance to the plebeian charms of Fermina Daza.

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He liked to say that this love was the result of a clinical error. He himself could not believethat it had happened, least of all at that time in his life when all his reserves of passion wereconcentrated on the destiny of his city which, he said with great frequency and no secondthoughts, had no equal in the world. In Paris, strolling arm in arm with a casual sweetheart througha late autumn, it seemed impossible to imagine a purer happiness than those golden afternoons,with the woody odour of chestnuts on the braziers, the languid accordions , the insatiable loverskissing on the open terraces, and still he had told himself with his hand on his heart that he wasnot prepared to exchange all that for a single instant of his Caribbean in April. He was still tooyoung to know that the heart's memory eliminates the bad and magnifies the good, and that thanksto this artifice we manage to endure the burden of the past. But when he stood at the railing of theship and saw the white promontory of the colonial district again, the motionless buzzards on theroofs, the washing of the poor hung out to dry on the balconies, only then did he understand towhat extent he had been an easy victim to the charitable deceptions of nostalgia .

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The ship made its way across the bay through a floating blanket of drowned animals, andmost of the passengers took refuge in their cabins to escape the stench. The young doctor walkeddown the gangplank dressed in perfect alpaca, wearing a vest and dustcoat, with the beard of ayoung Pasteur and his hair divided by a neat, pale part, and with enough self-control to hide thelump in his throat caused not by terror but by sadness. On the nearly deserted dock guarded bybarefoot soldiers without uniforms, his sisters and mother were waiting for him, along with hisclosest friends, whom he found insipid and without expectations despite their sophisticated airs;they spoke about the crisis of the civil war as if it were remote and foreign, but they all had anevasive tremor in their voices and an uncertainty in their eyes that belied their words. His mothermoved him most of all. She was still young, a woman who had made a mark on life with herelegance and social drive, but who was now slowly withering in the aroma of camphor that rosefrom her widow's crepe. She must have seen herself in her son's confusion, and she asked inimmediate self-defence why his skin was as pale as wax.

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"It's life over there, Mother," he said. "You turn green in Paris."A short while later, suffocating with the heat as he sat next to her in the closed carriage, hecould no longer endure the unmerciful reality that came pouring in through the window. The oceanlooked like ashes, the old palaces of the marquises were about to succumb to a proliferation ofbeggars, and it was impossible to discern the ardent scent

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of jasmine behind the vapours of deathfrom the open sewers . Everything seemed smaller to him than when he left, poorer and sadder, andthere were so many hungry rats in the rubbish heaps of the streets that the carriage horsesstumbled in fright. On the long trip from the port to his house, located in the heart of the Districtof the Viceroys, he found nothing that seemed worthy of his nostalgia. Defeated, he turned hishead away so that his mother would not see, and he began to cry in silence.

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The former palace of the Marquis de Casalduero, historic residence of the Urbino de la Callefamily, had not escaped the surrounding wreckage . Dr. Juvenal Urbino discovered this with abroken heart when he entered the house through the gloomy portico and saw the dusty fountain inthe interior garden and the wild brambles in flower beds where iguanas wandered, and he realisedthat many marble flagstones were missing and others were broken on the huge stairway with itscopper railings that led to the principal rooms. His father, a physician who was more self-sacrificing than eminent , had died in the epidemic of Asian cholera that had devastated thepopulation six years earlier, and with him had died the spirit of the house. Do帽 a Blanca, hismother, smothered by mourning that was considered eternal, had substituted evening novenas forher dead husband's celebrated lyrical soir閑 s and chamber concerts. His two sisters, despite theirnatural inclinations and festive vocation

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, were fodder for the convent.

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Dr. Juvenal Urbino did not sleep at all on the night of his return; he was frightened by thedarkness and the silence, and he said three rosaries to the Holy Spirit and all the prayers he couldremember to ward off calamities and shipwrecks and all manner of night terrors, while a curlewthat had come in through a half-closed door sang every hour on the hour in his bedroom. He wastormented by the hallucinating screams of the madwomen in the Divine Shepherdess Asylum nextdoor, the harsh dripping from the water jar into the washbasin which resonated throughout thehouse, the long-legged steps of the curlew wandering in his bedroom, his congenital fear of thedark, and the invisible presence of his dead father in the vast, sleeping mansion . When the curlewsang five o'clock along with the local roosters, Dr. Juvenal Urbino commended himself body andsoul to Divine Providence because he did not have the heart to live another day in his rubble-strewn homeland. But in time the affection of his family, the Sundays in the country, and thecovetous attentions of the unmarried women of his class mitigated the bitterness of his firstimpression. Little by little he grew accustomed to the sultry heat of October, to the excessiveodours, to the hasty judgments of his friends, to the We'll see tomorrow, Doctor, don't worry, andat last he gave in to the spell of habit. It did not take him long to invent an easy justification for hissurrender. This was his world, he said to himself, the sad, oppressive world that God had providedfor him, and he was responsible to it.

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The first thing he did was to take possession of his father's office. He kept in place the hard,sombre English furniture made of wood that sighed in the icy cold of dawn, but he consigned tothe attic the treatises on viceregal science and romantic medicine and filled the bookshelvesbehind their glass doors with the writings of the new French school. He took down the fadedpictures, except for the one of the physician arguing with Death for the nude body of a femalepatient, and the Hippocratic Oath printed in Gothic letters, and he hung in their place, next to hisfather's only diploma, the many diverse ones he himself had received with highest honours fromvarious schools in Europe.

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He tried to impose the latest ideas at Misericordia Hospital, but this was not as easy as it hadseemed in his youthful enthusiasm, for the antiquated house of health was stubborn in itsattachment to atavistic superstitions , such as standing beds in pots of water to prevent disease fromclimbing up the legs, or requiring evening wear and chamois gloves in the operating room becauseit was taken for granted that elegance was an essential condition for asepsis. They could nottolerate the young newcomer's tasting a patient's urine to determine the presence of sugar, quotingCharcot and Trousseau as if they were his roommates, issuing severe warnings in class against themortal risks of vaccines while maintaining a suspicious faith in the recent invention ofsuppositories. He was in conflict with everything: his renovating spirit, his maniacal sense of civicduty, his slow humour in a land of immortal pranksters--everything, in fact, that constituted hismost estimable virtues provoked the resentment of his older colleagues and the sly jokes of theyounger ones.

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His obsession was the dangerous lack of sanitation in the city. He appealed to the highestauthorities to fill in the Spanish sewers that were an immense breeding ground for rats, and tobuild in their place a closed sewage system whose contents would not empty into the cove at themarket, as had always been the case, but into some distant drainage area instead. The well-equipped colonial houses had latrines with septic tanks, but two thirds of the population lived inshanties at the edge of the swamps and relieved themselves in the open air. The excrement dried inthe sun, turned to dust, and was inhaled by everyone along with the joys of Christmas in the cool,gentle breezes of December. Dr. Juvenal Urbino attempted to force the City Council to impose anobligatory training course so that the poor could learn how to build their own latrines. He foughtin vain to stop them from tossing garbage into the mangrove thickets that over the centuries hadbecome swamps of putrefaction , and to have them collect it instead at least twice a week andincinerate it in some uninhabited area.

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He was aware of the mortal threat of the drinking water. The mere idea of building anaqueduct seemed fantastic, since those who might have supported it had underground cisterns attheir disposal, where water rained down over the years was collected under a thick layer of scum.

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Among the most valued household articles of the time were carved wooden water collectorswhose stone filters dripped day and night into large earthen water jars. To prevent anyone fromdrinking from the aluminium cup used to dip out the water, its edges were as jagged as the crownof a mock king. The water was crystalline and cool in the dark clay, and it tasted of the forest. ButDr. Juvenal Urbino was not taken in by these appearances of purity, for he knew that despite allprecautions, the bottom of each earthen jar was a sanctuary for waterworms. He had spent theslow hours of his childhood watching them with an almost mystical astonishment , convincedalong with so many other people at the time that waterworms were animes, supernatural creatureswho, from the sediment in still water, courted young maidens and could inflict furious vengeancebecause of love. As a boy he had seen the havoc they had wreaked in the house of L醶ara Conde,a schoolteacher who dared to rebuff the animes, and he had seen the watery trail of glass in thestreet and the mountain of stones they had thrown at her windows for three days and three nights.

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And so it was a long while before he learned that waterworms were in reality the larvae ofmosquitoes, but once he learned it he never forgot it, because from that moment on he realised thatthey and many other evil animes could pass through our simple stone filters intact.

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For a long time the water in the cisterns had been honoured as the cause of the scrotal herniathat so many men in the city endured not only without embarrassment but with a certain patrioticinsolence. When Juvenal Urbino was in elementary school, he could not avoid a spasm of horrorat the sight of men with ruptures sitting in their doorways on hot afternoons, fanning theirenormous testicle as if it were a child sleeping between their legs. It was said that the herniawhistled like a lugubrious bird on stormy nights and twisted in unbearable pain when a buzzardfeather was burned nearby, but no one complained about those discomforts because a large, well-carried rupture was, more than anything else, a display of masculine honour. When Dr. JuvenalUrbino returned from Europe he was already well aware of the scientific fallacy in these beliefs,but they were so rooted in local superstition that many people opposed the mineral enrichment ofthe water in the cisterns for fear of destroying its ability to cause an honourable rupture.

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Impure water was not all that alarmed Dr. Juvenal Urbino. He was just as concerned with thelack of hygiene at the public market, a vast extension of cleared land along Las羘imas Bay wherethe sailing ships from the Antilles would dock. An illustrious traveller of the period described themarket as one of the most varied in the world. It was rich, in fact, and profuse and noisy, but also,perhaps, the most alarming of markets. Set on its own garbage heap, at the mercy of capricioustides, it was the spot where the bay belched filth

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from the sewers back onto land. The offal fromthe adjoining slaughterhouse was also thrown away there--severed heads, rotting viscera, animalrefuse that floated, in sunshine and starshine, in a swamp of blood. The buzzards fought for it withthe rats and the dogs in a perpetual scramble among the deer and succulent capons from Sotaventohanging from the eaves of the market stalls, and the spring vegetables from Arjona displayed onstraw mats spread over the ground. Dr. Urbino wanted to make the place sanitary , he wanted aslaughterhouse built somewhere else and a covered market constructed with stained-glass turrets,like the one he had seen in the old boquer韆 s in Barcelona, where the provisions looked sosplendid and clean that it seemed a shame to eat them. But even the most complaisant of hisnotable friends pitied his illusory passion. That is how they were: they spent their livesproclaiming their proud origins, the historic merits of the city, the value of its relics , its heroism,its beauty, but they were blind to the decay of the years. Dr. Juvenal Urbino, on the other hand,loved it enough to see it with the eyes of truth.

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"How noble this city must be," he would say, "for we have spent four hundred years trying tofinish it off and we still have not succeeded,"They almost had, however. The epidemic of cholera morbus, whose first victims were struckdown in the standing water of the market, had, in eleven weeks, been responsible for the greatestdeath toll in our history. Until that time the eminent dead were interred under the flagstones in thechurches, in the exclusive vicinity of archbishops and capitulars, while the less wealthy wereburied in the patios of convents. The poor were sent to the colonial cemetery , located on a windyhill that was separated from the city by a dry canal whose mortar bridge bore the legend carvedthere by order of some clairvoyant mayor: Lasciate ogni speranza voi ch'entrate. After the first twoweeks of the cholera epidemic, the cemetery was overflowing

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and there was no room left in thechurches despite the fact that they had dispatched the decayed remains of many nameless civicheroes to the communal ossuary. The air in the Cathedral grew thin with the vapours from badlysealed crypts, and its doors did not open again until three years later, at the time that Fermina Dazasaw Florentino Ariza at close quarters as she left Midnight Mass. By the third week the cloister ofthe Convent of St. Clare was full all the way to its poplar-lined walks, and it was necessary to usethe Community's orchard , which was twice as large, as a cemetery. There graves were dug deepenough to bury the dead on three levels, without delay and without coffins , but this had to bestopped because the brimming ground turned into a sponge that oozed

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sickening, infected blood atevery step. Then arrangements were made to continue burying in The Hand of God, a cattle ranchless than a league from the city, which was later consecrated as the Universal Cemetery.

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From the time the cholera proclamation was issued, the local garrison shot a cannon from thefortress every quarter hour, day and night, in accordance with the local superstition thatgunpowder purified the atmosphere. The cholera was much more devastating to the blackpopulation, which was larger and poorer, but in reality it had no regard for colour or background.

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It ended as suddenly as it had begun, and the extent of its ravages was never known, not becausethis was impossible to establish but because one of our most widespread virtues was a certainreticence concerning personal misfortune.

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Dr. Marco Aurelio Urbino, the father of Juvenal, was a civic hero during that dreadful time,as well as its most distinguished victim. By official decree he personally designed and directedpublic health measures, but on his own initiative he intervened to such an extent in every socialquestion that during the most critical moments of the plague no higher authority seemed to exist.

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Years later, reviewing the chronicle of those days, Dr. Juvenal Urbino confirmed that his father'smethodology had been more charitable than scientific and, in many ways, contrary to reason, sothat in large measure it had fostered the voraciousness of the plague. He confirmed this with thecompassion of sons whom life has turned, little by little, into the fathers of their fathers, and forthe first time he regretted not having stood with his father in the solitude of his errors. But he didnot dispute his merits: his diligence and his self-sacrifice and above all his personal couragedeserved the many honours rendered him when the city recovered from the disaster, and it waswith justice that his name was found among those of so many other heroes of less honourablewars.

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He did not live to see his own glory. When he recognised in himself the irreversiblesymptoms that he had seen and pitied in others, he did not even attempt a useless struggle butwithdrew from the world so as not to infect anyone else. Locked in a utility room at MisericordiaHospital, deaf to the calls of his colleagues and the pleas of his family, removed from the horror ofthe plague victims dying on the floor in the packed corridors, he wrote a letter of feverish love tohis wife and children, a letter of gratitude for his existence in which he revealed how much andwith how much fervour he had loved life. It was a farewell of twenty heartrending pages in whichthe progress of the disease could be observed in the deteriorating script, and it was not necessaryto know the writer to realise that he had signed his name with his last breath. In accordance withhis instructions, his ashen body was mingled with others in the communal cemetery and was notseen by anyone who loved him.

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Three days later, in Paris, Dr. Juvenal Urbino received a telegram during supper with friends,and he toasted the memory of his father with champagne

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. He said: "He was a good man." Later hewould reproach himself for his lack of maturity : he had avoided reality in order not to cry. Butthree weeks later he received a copy of the posthumous letter, and then he surrendered to the truth.

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All at once the image of the man he had known before he knew any other was revealed to him inall its profundity , the man who had raised him and taught him and had slept and fornicated withhis mother for thirty-two years and yet who, before that letter, had never revealed himself bodyand soul because of timidity, pure and simple. Until then Dr. Juvenal Urbino and his family hadconceived of death as a misfortune that befell others, other people's fathers and mothers, otherpeople's brothers and sisters and husbands and wives, but not theirs. They were people whose liveswere slow, who did not see themselves growing old, or falling sick, or dying, but who disappearedlittle by little in their own time, turning into memories, mists from other days, until they wereabsorbed into oblivion. His father's posthumous letter, more than the telegram with the bad news,hurled him headlong against the certainty of death. And yet one of his oldest memories, when hewas nine years old perhaps, perhaps when he was eleven, was in a way an early sign of death inthe person of his father. One rainy afternoon the two of them were in the office his father kept inthe house; he was drawing larks and sunflowers with coloured chalk on the tiled floor, and hisfather was reading by the light shining through the window, his vest unbuttoned and elasticarmbands on his shirt sleeves. Suddenly he stopped reading to scratch his back with a long-handled back scratcher that had a little silver hand on the end. Since he could not reach the spotthat itched , he asked his son to scratch him with his nails, and as the boy did so he had the strangesensation of not feeling his own body. At last his father looked at him over his shoulder with a sadsmile.

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"If I died now," he said, "you would hardly remember me when you are my age."He said it for no apparent reason, and the angel of death hovered for a moment in the coolshadows of the office and flew out again through the window, leaving a trail of feathers flutteringin his wake, but the boy did not see them. More than twenty years had gone by since then, andJuvenal Urbino would very soon be as old as his father was that afternoon. He knew he wasidentical to him, and to that awareness had now been added the awful consciousness that he wasalso as mortal.

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Cholera became an obsession for him. He did not know much more about it than he hadlearned in a routine manner in some marginal course, when he had found it difficult to believe thatonly thirty years before, it had been responsible for more than one hundred forty thousand deathsin France, including Paris. But after the death of his father he learned all there was to know aboutthe different forms of cholera, almost as a penance to appease his memory, and he studied with themost outstanding epidemiologist of his time and the creator of the cordons sanitaires, ProfessorAdrien Proust, father of the great novelist. So that when he returned to his country and smelled thestench of the market while he was still out at sea and saw the rats in the sewers and the childrenrolling naked in the puddles on the streets, he not only understood how the tragedy had occurredbut was certain that it would be repeated at any moment.

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The moment was not long in coming. In less than a year his students at Misericordia Hospitalasked for his help in treating a charity patient with a strange blue coloration all over his body. Dr.

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Juvenal Urbino had only to see him from the doorway to recognise the enemy. But they were inluck: the patient had arrived three days earlier on a schooner from Cura莽ao and had come to thehospital clinic by himself, and it did not seem probable that he had infected anyone else. In anyevent, Dr. Juvenal Urbino alerted his colleagues and had the authorities warn the neighbouringports so that they could locate and quarantine the contaminated schooner, and he had to restrainthe military commander of the city who wanted to declare martial law and initiate the therapeuticstrategy of firing the cannon every quarter hour.

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"Save that powder for when the Liberals come," he said with good humour. "We are nolonger in the Middle Ages."The patient died in four days, choked by a grainy white vomit , but in the following weeks noother case was discovered despite constant vigilance. A short while later, The Commercial Dailypublished the news that two children had died of cholera in different locations in the city. It waslearned that one of them had had common dysentery, but the other, a girl of five, appeared to havebeen, in fact, a victim of cholera. Her parents and three brothers were separated and placed underindividual quarantine, and the entire neighbourhood was subjected to strict medical supervision

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One of the children contracted cholera but recovered very soon, and the entire family returnedhome when the danger was over. Eleven more cases were reported in the next three months, and inthe fifth there was an alarming outbreak, but by the end of the year it was believed that the dangerof an epidemic had been averted

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. No one doubted that the sanitary rigour of Dr. Juvenal Urbino,more than the efficacy of his pronouncements, had made the miracle possible. From that time on,and well into this century, cholera was endemic not only in the city but along most of theCaribbean coast and the valley of the Magdalena, but it never again flared into an epidemic. Thecrisis meant that Dr. Juvenal Urbino's warnings were heard with greater seriousness by publicofficials. They established an obligatory Chair of Cholera and Yellow Fever in the MedicalSchool, and realised the urgency of closing up the sewers and building a market far from thegarbage dump. By that time, however, Dr. Urbino was not concerned with proclaiming victory, norwas he moved to persevere in his social mission, for at that moment one of his wings was broken,he was distracted and in disarray and ready to forget everything else in life, because he had beenstruck by the lightning of his love for Fermina Daza.

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It was, in fact, the result of a clinical error. A physician who was a friend of his thought hedetected the warning symptoms of cholera in an eighteen-year-old patient, and he asked Dr.

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Juvenal Urbino to see her. He called that very afternoon, alarmed at the possibility that the plaguehad entered the sanctuary of the old city, for all the cases until that time had occurred in the poorneighbourhoods, and almost all of those among the black population. He encountered other, lessunpleasant, surprises. From the outside, the house, shaded by the almond trees in the Park of theEvangels, appeared to be in ruins, as did the others in the colonial district, but inside there was aharmony of beauty and an astonishing light that seemed to come from another age. The entranceopened directly into a square Sevillian patio that was white with a recent coat of lime and hadflowering orange trees and the same tiles on the floor as on the walls. There was an invisiblesound of running water, and pots with carnations on the cornices, and cages of strange birds in thearcades. The strangest of all were three crows in a very large cage, who filled the patio with anambiguous perfume every time they flapped their wings. Several dogs, chained elsewhere in thehouse, began to bark, maddened by the scent of a stranger, but a woman's shout stopped themdead, and numerous cats leapt all around the patio and hid among the flowers, frightened by theauthority in the voice. Then there was such a diaphanous silence that despite the disorder of thebirds and the syllables of water on stone, one could hear the desolate

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breath of the sea.

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Shaken by the conviction that God was present, Dr. Juvenal Urbino thought that such a housewas immune to the plague. He followed Gala Placidia along the arcaded corridor, passed by thewindow of the sewing room where Florentino Ariza had seen Fermina Daza for the first time,when the patio was still a shambles , climbed the new marble stairs to the second floor, and waitedto be announced before going into the patient's bedroom. But Gala Placidia came out again with amessage: "The se帽orita says you cannot come in now because her papa is not at home."And so he returned at five in the afternoon, in accordance with the maid's instructions, andLorenzo Daza himself opened the street door and led him to his daughter's bedroom. There heremained, sitting in a dark corner with his arms folded, and making futile efforts to control hisragged breathing during the examination. It was not easy to know who was more constrained , thedoctor with his chaste touch or the patient in the silk chemise with her virgin

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's

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modesty , butneither one looked the other in the eye; instead, he asked questions in an impersonal voice and sheresponded in a tremulous voice, both of them very conscious of the man sitting in the shadows. Atlast Dr. Juvenal Urbino asked the patient to sit up, and with exquisite care he opened hernightdress down to the waist; her pure high breasts with the childish nipples shone for an instant inthe darkness of the bedroom, like a flash of gunpowder , before she hurried to cover them withcrossed arms.

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Imperturbable , the physician opened her arms without looking at her and examinedher by direct auscultation, his ear against her skin, first the chest and then the back.

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Dr. Juvenal Urbino used to say that he experienced no emotion when he met the woman withwhom he would live until the day of his death. He remembered the sky-blue chemise edged inlace, the feverish eyes, the long hair hanging loose over her shoulders, but he was so concernedwith the outbreak of cholera in the colonial district that he took no notice of her floweringadolescence: he had eyes only for the slightest hint that she might be a victim of the plague. Shewas more explicit : the young doctor she had heard so much about in connection with the choleraepidemic seemed a pedant incapable of loving anyone but himself. The diagnosis was an intestinalinfection of alimentary origin, which was cured by three days of treatment at home. Relieved bythis proof that his daughter had not contracted cholera, Lorenzo Daza accompanied Dr. JuvenalUrbino to the door of his carriage, paid him a gold peso for the visit, a fee that seemed excessiveeven for a physician to the rich, and he said goodbye with immoderate expressions of gratitude.

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He was overwhelmed by the splendour of the Doctor's family names, and he not only did not hideit but would have done anything to see him again, under less formal circumstances.

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The case should have been considered closed. But on Tuesday of the following week, withoutbeing called and with no prior announcement, Dr. Juvenal Urbino returned to the house at theinconvenient hour of three in the afternoon. Fermina Daza was in the sewing room, having alesson in oil painting with two of her friends, when he appeared at the window in his spotlesswhite frock coat and his white top hat and signalled to her to come over to him. She put her palettedown on a chair and tiptoed to the window, her ruffled skirt raised to keep it from dragging on thefloor. She wore a diadem with a jewel that hung on her forehead, and the luminous stone was thesame aloof colour as her eyes, and everything in her breathed an aura of coolness. The Doctor wasstruck by the fact that she was dressed for painting at home as if she were going to a party. Hetook her pulse through the open window, he had her stick out her tongue, he examined her throatwith an aluminium tongue depressor, he looked inside her lower eyelids , and each time he noddedin approval. He was less inhibited

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than on the previous visit, but she was more so, because shecould not understand the reason for the unexpected examination if he himself had said that hewould not come back unless they called him because of some change. And even more important: she did not ever want to see him again. When he finished his examination, the Doctor put thetongue depressor back into his bag, crowded with instruments and bottles of medicine, and closedit with a resounding snap.

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"You are like a new-sprung rose," he said.

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"Thank you.""Thank God," he said, and he misquoted St. Thomas: "Remember that everything that isgood, whatever its origin, comes from the Holy Spirit. Do you like music?""What is the point of that question?" she asked in turn.

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"Music is important for one's health," he said.

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He really thought it was, and she was going to know very soon, and for the rest of her life,that the topic of music was almost a magic formula that he used to propose friendship, but at thatmoment she interpreted it as a joke. Besides, her two friends, who had pretended to paint whileshe and Dr. Juvenal Urbino were talking at the window, tittered and hid their faces behind theirpalettes, and this made Fermina Daza lose her self-control. Blind with fury, she slammed thewindow shut. The Doctor stared at the sheer lace curtains in bewilderment, he tried to find thestreet door but lost his way, and in his confusion he knocked into the cage with the perfumedcrows. They broke into sordid shrieking , flapped their wings in fright, and saturated the Doctor'sclothing with a feminine fragrance

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. The thundering voice of Lorenzo Daza rooted him to the spot:

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"Doctor--wait for me there."He had seen everything from the upper floor and, swollen and livid, he came down the stairsbuttoning his shirt, his side-whiskers still in an uproar after a restless siesta

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. The Doctor tried toovercome his embarrassment.

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"I told your daughter that she is like a rose.""True enough," said Lorenzo Daza, "but one with too many thorns."He walked past Dr. Urbino without greeting him. He pushed open the sewing room windowand shouted a rough command to his daughter: "Come here and beg the Doctor's pardon."The Doctor tried to intervene and stop him, but Lorenzo Daza paid no attention to him. Heinsisted: "Hurry up." She looked at her friends with a secret plea for understanding, and she said toher father that she had nothing to beg pardon for, she had only closed the window to keep out thesun. Dr. Urbino, with good humour, tried to confirm her words, but Lorenzo Daza insisted that hebe obeyed. Then Fermina Daza, pale with rage, turned toward the window, and extending her rightfoot as she raised her skirt with her fingertips, she made a theatrical curtsy to the Doctor.

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"I give you my most heartfelt apologies, sir," she said.

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Dr. Juvenal Urbino imitated her with good humour, making a cavalier's flourish with his tophat, but he did not win the compassionate smile he had hoped for. Then Lorenzo Daza invited himto have a cup of coffee in his office to set things right, and he accepted with pleasure so that therewould be no doubt whatsoever that he did not harbour a shred of resentment in his heart.

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The truth was that Dr. Juvenal Urbino did not drink coffee, except for a cup first thing in themorning. He did not drink alcohol either, except for a glass of wine with meals on solemnoccasions, but he not only drank down the coffee that Lorenzo Daza offered him, he also accepteda glass of anisette. Then he accepted another coffee with another anisette, and then another andanother, even though he still had to make a few more calls. At first he listened with attention to theexcuses that Lorenzo Daza continued to offer in the name of his daughter, whom he defined as anintelligent and serious girl, worthy of a prince whether he came from here or anywhere else,whose only defect, so he said, was her mulish character. But after the second anisette, the Doctorthought he heard Fermina Daza's voice at the other end of the patio, and his imagination went afterher, followed her through the night that had just descended in the house as she lit the lights in thecorridor, fumigated the bedrooms with the insecticide bomb, uncovered the pot of soup on thestove, which she was going to share that night with her father, the two of them alone at the table,she not raising her eyes, not tasting the soup, not breaking the rancorous spell, until he was forcedto give in and ask her to forgive his severity that afternoon.

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Dr. Urbino knew enough about women to realise that Fermina Daza would not pass by theoffice until he left, but he stayed nevertheless because he felt that wounded pride would give himno peace after the humiliations of the afternoon. Lorenzo Daza, who by now was almost drunk,did not seem to notice his lack of attention, for he was satisfied with his own indomitableeloquence. He talked at full gallop , chewing the flower of his unlit cigar, coughing in shouts,trying to clear his throat, attempting with great difficulty to find a comfortable position in theswivel chair, whose springs wailed like an animal in heat. He had drunk three glasses of anisette toeach one drunk by his guest, and he paused only when he realised that they could no longer seeeach other, and he stood up to light the lamp. Dr. Juvenal Urbino looked at him in the new light,he saw that one eye was twisted like a fish's and that his words did not correspond to themovement of his lips, and he thought these were hallucinations brought on by his abuse of alcohol.

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Then he stood up, with the fascinating sensation that he was inside a body that belonged not tohim but to someone who was still in the chair where he had been sitting, and he had to make agreat effort not to lose his mind.

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It was after seven o'clock when he left the office, preceded by Lorenzo Daza. There was a fullmoon. The patio, idealised by anisette, floated at the bottom of an aquarium , and the cagescovered with cloths looked like ghosts sleeping under the hot scent of new orange blossoms. Thesewing room window was open, there was a lighted lamp on the worktable, and the unfinishedpaintings were on their easels as if they were on exhibit. "Where art thou that thou art not here,"said Dr. Urbino as he passed by, but Fermina Daza did not hear him, she could not hear him,because she was crying with rage in her bedroom, lying face down on the bed and waiting for herfather so that she could make him pay for the afternoon's humiliation

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. The Doctor did notrenounce his hope of saying goodbye to her, but Lorenzo Daza did not suggest it. He yearned forthe innocence of her pulse, her cat's tongue, her tender tonsils, but he was disheartened by the ideathat she never wanted to see him again and would never permit him to try to see her. WhenLorenzo Daza walked into the entryway, the crows, awake under their sheets, emitted a funerealshriek. "They will peck out your eyes," the Doctor said aloud, thinking of her, and Lorenzo Dazaturned around to ask him what he had said.

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"It was not me," he said. "It was the anisette."Lorenzo Daza accompanied him to his carriage, trying to force him to accept a gold peso forthe second visit, but he would not take it. He gave the correct instructions to the driver for takinghim to the houses of the two patients he still had to see, and he climbed into the carriage withouthelp. But he began to feel sick as they bounced along the cobbled streets, so that he ordered thedriver to take a different route. He looked at himself for a moment in the carriage mirror and sawthat his image, too, was still thinking about Fermina Daza. He shrugged his shoulders. Then hebelched, lowered his head to his chest, and fell asleep, and in his dream he began to hear funeralbells. First he heard those of the Cathedral and then he heard those of all the other churches, oneafter another, even the cracked pots of St. Julian the Hospitaler.

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"Shit," he murmured in his sleep, "the dead have died." His mother and sisters were havingcaf?

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con leche and crullers for supper at the formal table in the large dining room when they sawhim appear in the door, his face haggard and his entire being dishonoured by the whorish perfumeof the crows. The largest bell of the adjacent Cathedral resounded in the immense empty space ofthe house. His mother asked him in alarm where in the world he had been, for they had lookedeverywhere for him so that he could attend General Ignacio Mar韆, the last grandson of theMarquis de Jara韟 de la Vera, who had been struck down that afternoon by a cerebralhaemorrhage: it was for him that the bells were tolling

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. Dr. Juvenal Urbino listened to his motherwithout hearing her as he clutched the doorframe, and then he gave a half turn, trying to reach hisbedroom, but he fell flat on his face in an explosion of star anise vomit.

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"Mother of God," shouted his mother. "Something very strange must have happened for youto show up in your own house in this state."The strangest thing, however, had not yet occurred. Taking advantage of the visit of thefamous pianist Romeo Lussich, who played a cycle of Mozart sonatas as soon as the city hadrecovered from mourning the death of General Ignacio Mar韆, Dr. Juvenal Urbino had the pianofrom the Music School placed in a mule- drawn wagon and brought a history-making serenade toFermina Daza. She was awakened by the first measures, and she did not have to look out thegrating on the balcony to know who was the sponsor of that uncommon tribute. The only thing sheregretted was not having the courage of other harassed maidens, who emptied their chamber potson the heads of unwanted suitors. Lorenzo Daza, on the other hand, dressed without delay as theserenade was playing, and when it was over he had Dr. Juvenal Urbino and the pianist, stillwearing their formal concert clothes, come in to the visitors' parlour, where he thanked them forthe serenade with a glass of good brandy.

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Fermina Daza soon realised that her father was trying to soften her heart. The day after theserenade, he said to her in a casual manner: "Imagine how your mother would feel if she knew youwere being courted by an Urbino de la Calle." Her dry response was: "She would turn over in hergrave." The friends who painted with her told her that Lorenzo Daza had been invited to lunch atthe Social Club by Dr. Juvenal Urbino, who had received a severe reprimand for breaking clubrules. It was only then that she learned that her father had applied for membership in the SocialClub on several occasions, and that each time he had been rejected with such a large number ofblack balls that another attempt was not possible. But Lorenzo Daza had an infinite capacity forassimilating humiliations, and he continued his ingenious strategies for arranging casualencounters with Juvenal Urbino, not realising that it was Juvenal Urbino who went out of his wayto let himself be encountered. At times they spent hours chatting in the office, while the houseseemed suspended at the edge of time because Fermina Daza would not permit anything to run itsnormal course until he left. The Parish Caf?was a good intermediate haven

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. It was there thatLorenzo Daza gave Juvenal Urbino his first lessons in chess, and he was such a diligent pupil thatchess became an incurable addiction that tormented him until the day of his death.

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One night, a short while after the serenade by solo piano, Lorenzo Daza discovered a letter,its envelope sealed with wax, in the entryway to his house. It was addressed to his daughter andthe monogram

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"J. U. C." was imprinted on the seal. He slipped it under the door as he passedFermina's bedroom, and she never understood how it had come there, since it was inconceivable toher that her father had changed so much that he would bring her a letter from a suitor. She left iton the night table, for the truth was she did not know what to do with it, and there it stayed,unopened, for several days, until one rainy afternoon when Fermina Daza dreamed that JuvenalUrbino had returned to the house to give her the tongue depressor he had used to examine herthroat. In the dream, the tongue depressor was made not of aluminium but of a delicious metal thatshe had tasted with pleasure in other dreams, so that she broke it in two unequal pieces and gavehim the smaller one.

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When she awoke she opened the letter. It was brief and proper, and all that Juvenal Urbinoasked was permission to request her father's permission to visit her. She was impressed by itssimplicity and seriousness, and the rage she had cultivated with so much love for so many daysfaded away on the spot. She kept the letter in the bottom of her trunk, but she remembered that shehad also kept Florentino Ariza's perfumed letters there, and she took it out of the chest to findanother place for it, shaken by a rush of shame. Then it seemed that the most decent thing to dowas to pretend she had not received it, and she burned it in the lamp, watching how the drops ofwax exploded into blue bubbles above the flame. She sighed: "Poor man." And then she realisedthat it was the second time she had said those words in little more than a year, and for a momentshe thought about Florentino Ariza, and even she was surprised at how removed he was from herlife: poor man.

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Three more letters arrived with the last rains in October, the first of them accompanied by alittle box of violet pastilles from Flavigny Abbey. Two had been delivered at the door by Dr.

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Juvenal Urbino's coachman, and the Doctor had greeted Gala Placidia from the carriage window,first so that there would be no doubt that the letters were his, and second so that no one could tellhim they had not been received. Moreover, both of them were sealed with his monogram in waxand written in the cryptic scrawl that Fermina Daza already recognised as a physician'shandwriting. Both of them said in substance what had been said in the first, and were conceived inthe same submissive spirit, but underneath their propriety one could begin to detect an impatiencethat was never evident in the parsimonious letters of Florentino Ariza. Fermina Daza read them assoon as they were delivered, two weeks apart, and without knowing why, she changed her mind asshe was about to throw them into the fire. But she never thought of answering them.

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The third letter in October had been slipped under the street door, and was in every waydifferent from the previous ones. The handwriting was so childish that there was no doubt it hadbeen scrawled with the left hand, but Fermina Daza did not realise that until the text itself provedto be a poison pen letter. Whoever had written it took for granted that Fermina Daza hadbewitched Dr. Juvenal Urbino with her love potions, and from that supposition sinisterconclusions had been drawn. It ended with a threat: if Fermina Daza did not renounce her effortsto move up in the world by means of the most desirable man in the city, she would be exposed topublic disgrace.

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She felt herself the victim of a grave injustice , but her reaction was not vindictive

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. On thecontrary: she would have liked to discover who the author of the anonymous letter was in order toconvince him of his error with all the pertinent explanations, for she felt certain that never, for anyreason, would she respond to the wooing of Juvenal Urbino. In the days that followed she receivedtwo more unsigned letters, as perfidious as the first, but none of the three seemed to be written bythe same person. Either she was the victim of a plot, or the false version of her secret love affairhad gone further than anyone could imagine. She was disturbed by the idea that it was all theresult of a simple indiscretion on the part of Juvenal Urbino. It occurred to her that perhaps he wasdifferent from his worthy appearance, that perhaps he talked too much when he was making housecalls and boasted of imaginary conquests, as did so many other men of his class. She thoughtabout writing him a letter to reproach him for the insult to her honour, but then she decided againstthe idea because that might be just what he wanted. She tried to learn more from the friends whopainted with her in the sewing room, but they had heard only benign comments concerning theserenade by solo piano. She felt furious, impotent, humiliated

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. In contrast to her initial feeling thatshe wanted to meet with her invisible enemy in order to convince him of his errors, now she onlywanted to cut him to ribbons with the pruning shears

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. She spent sleepless nights analysing detailsand phrases in the anonymous letters in the hope of finding some shred of comfort. It was a vainhope: Fermina Daza was, by nature, alien to the inner world of the Urbino de la Calle family, andshe had weapons for defending herself from their good actions but not from their evil ones.

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This conviction became even more bitter after the fear caused by the black doll that was sentto her without any letter, but whose origin seemed easy to imagine: only Dr. Juvenal Urbino couldhave sent it. It had been bought in Martinique, according to the original tag, and it was dressed inan exquisite gown, its hair rippled with gold threads, and it closed its eyes when it was laid down.

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It seemed so charming to Fermina Daza that she overcame her scruples and laid it on her pillowduring the day and grew accustomed to sleeping with it at night. After a time, however, shediscovered when she awoke from an exhausting dream that the doll was growing: the originalexquisite dress she had arrived in was up above her thighs , and her shoes had burst from thepressure of her feet. Fermina Daza had heard of African spells, but none as frightening as this. Onthe other hand, she could not imagine that a man like Juvenal Urbino would be capable of such anatrocity. She was right: the doll had been brought not by his coachman but by an itinerantshrimpmonger whom no one knew. Trying to solve the enigma , Fermina Daza thought for amoment of Florentino Ariza, whose depressed condition caused her dismay, but life convinced herof her error. The mystery was never clarified, and just thinking about it made her shudder withfear long after she was married and had children and thought of herself as destiny's darling: thehappiest woman in the world.

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Dr. Urbino's last resort was the mediation of Sister Franca de la Luz, Superior of theAcademy of the Presentation of the Blessed Virgin, who could not deny the request of a familythat had supported her Community since its establishment in the Americas. She appeared onemorning at nine o'clock in the company of a novice , and for half an hour the two of them had toamuse themselves with the birdcages while Fermina Daza finished her bath. She was a masculineGerman with a metallic accent and an imperious gaze that had no relationship to her puerilepassions. Fermina Daza hated her and everything that had to do with her more than anything inthis world, and the mere memory of her false piety made scorpions crawl in her belly

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. Just thesight of her from the bathroom door was enough to revive the torture of school, the unbearableboredom of daily Mass, the terror of examinations, the servile diligence of the novices , all of thatlife distorted by the prism of spiritual poverty. Sister Franca de la Luz, on the other hand, greetedher with a joy that seemed sincere. She was surprised at how much she had grown and matured,and she praised the good judgment with which she managed the house, the good taste evident inthe patio, the brazier filled with orange blossoms. She ordered the novice to wait for her withoutgetting too close to the crows, who in a careless moment might peck out her eyes, and she lookedfor a private spot where she could sit down and talk alone with Fermina, who invited her into thedrawing room.

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It was a brief and bitter visit. Sister Franca de la Luz, wasting no time on formalities, offeredhonourable reinstatement to Fermina Daza. The reason for her expulsion would be erased not onlyfrom the records but also from the memory of the Community, and this would allow her to finishher studies and receive her baccalaureate degree. Fermina Daza was perplexed and wanted toknow why.

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"It is the request of someone who deserves everything he desires and whose only wish is tomake you happy," said the nun

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. "Do you know who that is?"Then she understood. She asked herself with what authority a woman who had made her lifemiserable because of an innocent letter served as the emissary of love, but she did not dare tospeak of it. Instead she said yes, she knew that man, and by the same token she also knew that hehad no right to interfere in her life.

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"All he asks is that you allow him to speak with you for five minutes," said the nun. "I amcertain your father will agree."Fermina Daza's anger grew more intense at the idea that her father was an accessory to thevisit.

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"We saw each other twice when I was sick," she said. "Now there is no reason for us to seeeach other again.""For any woman with a shred of sense, that man is a gift from Divine Providence," said thenun.

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She continued to speak of his virtues, of his devotion, of his dedication to serving those inpain. As she spoke she pulled from her sleeve a gold rosary with Christ carved in marble, anddangled it in front of Fermina Daza's eyes. It was a family heirloom, more than a hundred yearsold, carved by a goldsmith from Siena and blessed by Clement IV.

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"It is yours," she said.

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Fermina Daza felt the blood pounding through her veins , and then she dared.

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"I do not understand how you can lend yourself to this," she said, "if you think that love is asin."Sister Franca de la Luz pretended not to notice the remark, but her eyelids flamed. Shecontinued to dangle the rosary in front of Fermina Daza's eyes.

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"It would be better for you to come to an understanding with me," she said, "because after mecomes His Grace the Archbishop, and it is a different story with him.""Let him come," said Fermina Daza.

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Sister Franca de la Luz tucked the gold rosary into her sleeve. Then from the other she took awell-used handkerchief squeezed into a ball and held it tight in her fist, looking at Fermina Dazafrom a great distance and with a smile of commiseration

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"My poor child," she sighed, "you are still thinking about that man."Fermina Daza chewed on the impertinence as she looked at the nun without blinking, lookedher straight in the eye without speaking, chewing in silence, until she saw with infinite satisfactionthat those masculine eyes had filled with tears. Sister Franca de la Luz dried them with the ball ofthe handkerchief and stood up.

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"Your father is right when he says that you are a mule," she said.

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The Archbishop did not come. So the siege might have ended that day if Hildebranda S醤chez had not arrived to spend Christmas with her cousin, and life changed for both of them. Theymet her on the schooner from Riohacha at five o'clock in the morning, surrounded by a crowd ofpassengers half dead from seasickness , but she walked off the boat radiant, very much a woman,and excited after the bad night at sea. She arrived with crates of live turkeys and all the fruits ofher fertile lands so that no one would lack for food during her visit. Lis韒 aco S醤 chez, herfather, sent a message asking if they needed musicians for their holiday parties, because he had thebest at his disposal, and he promised to send a load of fireworks later on. He also announced thathe could not come for his daughter before March, so there was plenty of time for them to enjoylife. The two cousins began at once. From the first afternoon they bathed together, naked, the twoof them making their reciprocal ablutions with water from the cistern

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. They soaped each other,they removed each other's nits, they compared their buttocks, their quiet breasts, each looking atherself in the other's mirror to judge with what cruelty time had treated them since the lastoccasion when they had seen each other undressed. Hildebranda was large and solid, with goldenskin, but all the hair on her body was like a mulatta's, as short and curly as steel wool. FerminaDaza, on the other hand, had a pale nakedness, with long lines, serene skin, and straight hair. GalaPlacidia had two identical beds placed in the bedroom, but at times they lay together in one andtalked in the dark until dawn. They smoked long, thin highwaymen's cigars that Hildebranda hadhidden in the lining of her trunk, and afterward they had to burn Armenian paper to purify the ranksmell they left behind in the bedroom. Fermina Daza had smoked for the first time in Valledupar,and had continued in Fonseca and Riohacha, where as many as ten cousins would lock themselvesin a room to talk about men and to smoke. She learned to smoke backward, with the lit end in hermouth, the way men smoked at night during the wars so that the glow of their cigarettes would notbetray them. But she had never smoked alone. With Hildebranda in her house, she smoked everynight before going to sleep, and it was then that she acquired the habit although she always hid it,even from her husband and her children, not only because it was thought improper for a woman tosmoke in public but because she associated the pleasure with secrecy

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Hildebranda's trip had also been imposed by her parents in an effort to put distance betweenher and her impossible love, although they wanted her to think that it was to help Fermina decideon a good match. Hildebranda had accepted, hoping to mock forgetfulness as her cousin had donebefore her, and she had arranged with the telegraph operator in Fonseca to send her messages withthe greatest prudence

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. And that is why her disillusion was so bitter when she learned that FerminaDaza had rejected Florentino Ariza. Moreover, Hildebranda had a universal conception of love,and she believed that whatever happened to one love affected all other loves throughout the world.

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Still, she did not renounce her plan. With an audacity that caused a crisis of dismay in FerminaDaza, she went to the telegraph office alone, intending to win the favour of Florentino Ariza.

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She would not have recognised him, for there was nothing about him that corresponded to theimage she had formed from Fermina Daza. At first glance it seemed impossible that her cousincould have been on the verge of madness because of that almost invisible clerk with his air of awhipped dog, whose clothing, worthy of a rabbi in disgrace, and whose solemn manner could notperturb anyone's heart. But she soon repented of her first impression, for Florentino Ariza placedhimself at her unconditional service without knowing who she was: he never found out. No onecould have understood her as he did, so that he did not ask for identification or even for heraddress. His solution was very simple: she would pass by the telegraph office on Wednesdayafternoons so that he could place her lover's answers in her hand, and nothing more. And yet whenhe read the written message that Hildebranda brought him, he asked if she would accept asuggestion, and she agreed. Florentino Ariza first made some corrections between the lines, erasedthem, rewrote them, had no more room, and at last tore up the page and wrote a completely newmessage that she thought very touching

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. When she left the telegraph office, Hildebranda was onthe verge of tears. "He is ugly and sad," she said to Fermina Daza, "but he is all love." What moststruck Hildebranda was her cousin's solitude. She seemed, she told her, an old maid of twenty.

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Accustomed to large scattered families in houses where no one was certain how many people wereliving or eating at any given time, Hildebranda could not imagine a girl her age reduced to thecloister of a private life. That was true: from the time she awoke at six in the morning until sheturned out the light in the bedroom, Fermina Daza devoted herself to killing time. Life wasimposed on her from outside. First, at the final rooster crow, the milkman woke her with hisrapping on the door knocker. Then came the knock of the fishwife with her box of red snappersdying on a bed of algae , the sumptuous fruit sellers with vegetables from Mar韆 la Baja and fruitfrom San Jacinto. And then, for the rest of the day, everyone knocked at the door: beggars, girlswith lottery

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tickets, the Sisters of Charity, the knife grinder with the gossip, the man who boughtbottles, the man who bought old gold, the man who bought newspapers, the fake gipsies whooffered to read one's destiny in cards, in the lines of one's palm, in coffee grounds, in the water inwashbasins. Gala Placidia spent the week opening and closing the street door to say no, anotherday, or shouting from the balcony in a foul humour to stop bothering us, damn it, we alreadybought everything we need. She had replaced Aunt Escol醩 tica with so much fervour and somuch grace that Fermina confused them to the point of loving her. She had the obsessions of aslave. Whenever she had free time she would go to the workroom to iron the linens ; she kept themperfect, she kept them in cupboards with lavender, and she ironed and folded not only what shehad just washed but also what might have lost its brightness through disuse. With the same careshe continued to maintain the wardrobe of Fermina S醤 chez, Fermina's mother, who had diedfourteen years before. But Fermina Daza was the one who made the decisions. She ordered whatthey would eat, what they would buy, what had to be done in every circumstance, and in that wayshe determined the life in a house where in reality nothing had to be determined. When shefinished washing the cages and feeding the birds, and making certain that the flowers wanted fornothing, she was at a loss. Often, after she was expelled from school, she would fall asleep atsiesta and not wake up until the next day. The painting classes were only a more amusing way tokill time.

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Her relationship with her father had lacked affection since the expulsion of Aunt Escol醩tica, although they had found the way to live together without bothering each other. When sheawoke, he had already gone to his business. He rarely missed the ritual of lunch, although healmost never ate, for the aperitifs and Galician appetisers at the Parish Caf?satisfied him. He didnot eat supper either: they left his meal on the table, everything on one plate covered by another,although they knew that he would not eat it until the next day when it was reheated for hisbreakfast. Once a week he gave his daughter money for expenses, which he calculated with careand she administered with rigour, but he listened with pleasure to any request she might make forunforeseen expenses. He never questioned a penny she spent, he never asked her for anyexplanations, but she behaved as if she had to make an accounting before the Tribunal of the HolyOffice. He had never spoken to her about the nature or condition of his business, and he had nevertaken her to his offices in the port, which were in a location forbidden to decent young ladies evenif accompanied by their fathers. Lorenzo Daza did not come home before ten o'clock at night,which was the curfew hour during the less critical periods of the wars. Until that time he wouldstay at the Parish Caf? playing one game or another, for he was an expert in all salon games and agood teacher as well. He always came home sober, not disturbing his daughter, despite the factthat he had his first anisette when he awoke and continued chewing the end of his unlit cigar anddrinking at regular intervals throughout the day. One night, however, Fermina heard him come in.

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She heard his cossack's step on the stair, his heavy breathing in the second-floor hallway, hispounding with the flat of his hand on her bedroom door. She opened it, and for the first time shewas frightened by his twisted eye and the slurring of his words.

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"We are ruined," he said. "Total ruin, so now you know."That was all he said, and he never said it again, and nothing happened to indicate whether hehad told the truth, but after that night Fermina Daza knew that she was alone in the world. Shelived in a social limbo

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. Her former schoolmates were in a heaven that was closed to her, above allafter the dishonour of her expulsion, and she was not a neighbour to her neighbours, because theyhad known her without a past, in the uniform of the Academy of the Presentation of the BlessedVirgin. Her father's world was one of traders and stevedores , of war refugees in the public shelterof the Parish Caf? of solitary men. In the last year the painting classes had alleviated her seclusionsomewhat, for the teacher preferred group classes and would bring the other pupils to the sewingroom. But they were girls of varying and undefined social circumstances, and for Fermina Dazathey were no more than borrowed friends whose affection ended with each class. Hildebrandawanted to open the house, air it, bring in her father's musicians and fireworks and castles ofgunpowder, and have a Carnival dance whose gale winds would clear out her cousin's moth-eatenspirit, but she soon realised that her proposals were to no avail, and for a very simple reason: therewa

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