-
Главная
-
- Книги
-
- Авторы
-
- Габриэль Гарсиа Маркес
-
- Сто лет одиночества
-
- Стр. 16/40
Для того чтобы воспользоваться озвучкой предложений, необходимо
Войти или зарегистрироваться
Озвучка предложений доступна при наличии PRO-доступа
Купить PRO-доступ
Pietro
Crespi
was
young
and
blond
,
the
most
handsome
and
well
mannered
man
who
had
ever
been
seen
in
Macondo
,
so
scrupulous
in
his
dress
that
in
spite
of
the
suffocating
heat
he
would
work
in
his
brocade
vest
and
heavy
coat
of
dark
cloth
.
Soaked
in
sweat
,
keeping
a
reverent
distance
from
the
owners
the
house
,
he
spent
several
weeks
shut
up
is
the
parlor
with
a
dedication
much
like
that
of
Aureliano
in
his
silverwork
.
One
morning
,
without
opening
the
door
,
without
calling
anyone
to
witness
the
miracle
,
he
placed
the
first
roll
in
the
pianola
and
the
tormenting
hammering
and
the
constant
noise
of
wooden
lathings
ceased
in
a
silence
that
was
startled
at
the
order
and
neatness
of
the
music
.
They
all
ran
to
the
parlor
.
José
Arcadio
Buendía
was
as
if
struck
by
lightning
,
not
because
of
the
beauty
of
the
melody
,
but
because
of
the
automatic
working
of
the
keys
of
the
pianola
,
and
he
set
up
Melquíades
'
camera
with
the
hope
of
getting
a
daguerreotype
of
the
invisible
player
.
That
day
the
Italian
had
lunch
them
.
Rebeca
and
Amaranta
,
serving
the
table
,
were
intimidated
by
the
way
in
which
the
angelic
man
with
pale
and
ringless
hands
manipulated
the
utensils
.
In
the
living
room
,
next
to
the
parlor
,
Pietro
Crespi
taught
them
how
to
dance
.
He
showed
them
the
steps
without
touching
them
,
keeping
time
with
a
metronome
,
under
the
friendly
eye
of
úrsula
,
who
did
not
leave
the
room
for
a
moment
while
her
daughters
had
their
lesson
.
Pietro
Crespi
wore
special
pants
on
those
days
,
very
elastic
and
tight
,
dancing
slippers
,
"
You
do
n't
have
to
worry
so
much
,
"
José
Arcadio
Buendía
told
her
.
"
The
man
's
a
fairy
.
"
But
she
did
not
leave
off
her
vigilance
until
the
apprenticeship
was
over
and
the
Italian
left
Macondo
.
Then
they
began
to
organize
the
party
.
úrsula
drew
up
a
strict
guest
list
,
in
which
the
only
ones
invited
were
the
descendants
the
founders
,
except
for
the
family
of
Pilar
Ternera
,
who
by
then
had
had
two
more
children
by
unknown
fathers
.
It
was
truly
a
highclass
list
,
except
that
it
was
determined
by
feelings
friendship
,
for
those
favored
were
not
only
the
oldest
friends
of
José
Arcadio
Buendía
's
house
since
before
they
undertook
the
exodus
and
the
founding
of
Macondo
,
but
also
their
sons
and
grandsons
,
who
were
the
constant
companions
of
Aureliano
and
Arcadio
since
infancy
,
and
their
daughters
,
who
were
the
only
ones
who
visited
the
house
to
embroider
with
Rebeca
and
Amaranta
.
Don
Apolinar
Moscote
,
the
benevolent
ruler
whose
activity
had
been
reduced
to
the
maintenance
from
his
scanty
resources
of
two
policemen
armed
with
wooden
clubs
,
was
a
figurehead
.
In
older
to
support
the
household
expenses
his
daughters
had
opened
a
sewing
shop
,
where
they
made
felt
flowers
as
well
as
guava
delicacies
,
and
wrote
love
notes
to
order
.
But
in
spite
of
being
modest
and
hard-working
,
the
most
beautiful
girls
in
Iowa
,
and
the
most
skilled
at
the
new
dances
,
they
did
not
manage
to
be
considered
for
the
party
.
While
úrsula
and
the
girls
unpacked
furniture
,
polished
silverware
,
and
hung
pictures
of
maidens
in
boats
full
of
roses
,
which
gave
a
breath
of
new
life
to
the
naked
areas
that
the
masons
had
built
,
José
Arcadio
Buendía
stopped
his
pursuit
of
the
image
of
God
,
convinced
of
His
nonexistence
,
and
he
took
the
pianola
apart
in
order
to
decipher
its
magical
secret
.
Two
days
before
the
party
,
swamped
in
a
shower
of
leftover
keys
and
hammers
,
bungling
in
the
midst
of
a
mixup
of
strings
that
would
unroll
in
one
direction
and
roll
up
again
in
the
other
,
he
succeeded
in
a
fashion
in
putting
the
instrument
back
together
.
There
had
never
been
as
many
surprises
and
as
much
dashing
about
as
in
those
days
,
but
the
new
pitch
lamps
were
lighted
on
the
designated
day
and
hour
.
The
house
was
opened
,
still
smelling
of
resin
and
damp
whitewash
,
and
the
children
and
grandchildren
of
the
founders
saw
the
porch
with
ferns
and
begonias
,
the
quiet
rooms
,
the
garden
saturated
with
the
fragrance
of
the
roses
,
and
they
gathered
together
in
the
parlor
,
facing
the
unknown
invention
that
had
been
covered
with
a
white
sheet
.
Those
who
were
familiar
with
the
piano
,
popular
in
other
towns
in
the
swamp
,
felt
a
little
disheartened
,
but
more
bitter
was
úrsula
's
disappointment
when
she
put
in
the
first
roll
so
that
Amaranta
and
Rebeca
could
begin
the
dancing
and
the
mechanism
did
not
work
.
Melquíades
,
almost
blind
by
then
,
crumbling
with
decrepitude
,
used
the
arts
of
his
timeless
wisdom
in
an
attempt
to
fix
it
.
Finally
José
Arcadio
Buendía
managed
,
by
mistake
,
to
move
a
device
that
was
stuck
and
the
music
came
out
,
first
in
a
burst
and
then
in
a
flow
of
mixed-up
notes
.
Beating
against
the
strings
that
had
been
put
in
without
order
or
concert
and
had
been
tuned
temerity
,
the
hammers
let
go
.
But
the
stubborn
descendants
of
the
twenty-one
intrepid
people
who
plowed
through
the
mountains
in
search
of
the
sea
to
the
west
avoided
the
reefs
of
the
melodic
mix-up
and
the
dancing
went
on
until
dawn
.
Pietro
Crespi
came
back
to
repair
the
pianola
.
Rebeca
and
Amaranta
helped
him
put
the
strings
in
order
and
helped
him
with
their
laughter
at
the
mix-up
of
the
melodies
.
It
was
extremely
pleasant
and
so
chaste
in
its
way
that
úrsula
ceased
her
vigilance
.
On
the
eve
of
his
departure
a
farewell
dance
for
him
was
improvised
with
the
pianola
and
with
Rebeca
he
put
on
a
skillful
demonstration
of
modern
dance
,
Arcadio
and
Amaranta
matched
them
in
grace
and
skill
.
But
the
exhibition
was
interrupted
because
Pilar
Ternera
,
who
was
at
the
door
with
the
onlookers
,
had
a
fight
,
biting
and
hair
pulling
,
with
a
woman
who
had
dared
to
comment
that
Arcadio
had
a
woman
's
behind
.
Toward
midnight
Pietro
Crespi
took
his
leave
with
a
sentimental
little
speech
,
and
he
promised
to
return
very
soon
.
Rebeca
accompanied
him
to
the
door
,
and
having
closed
up
the
house
and
put
out
the
lamps
,
she
went
to
her
room
to
weep
.
It
was
an
inconsolable
weeping
that
lasted
for
several
days
,
the
cause
of
which
was
not
known
even
by
Amaranta
.
Her
hermetism
was
not
odd
.
Although
she
seemed
expansive
and
cordial
,
she
had
a
solitary
character
an
impenetrable
heart
.
She
was
a
splendid
adolescent
with
long
and
firm
bones
,
but
she
still
insisted
on
using
the
small
wooden
rocking
chair
with
which
she
had
arrived
at
the
house
,
reinforced
many
times
and
with
the
arms
gone
.
No
one
had
discovered
that
even
at
that
age
she
still
had
the
habit
of
sucking
her
finger
.
That
was
why
she
would
not
lose
an
opportunity
to
lock
herself
in
the
bathroom
and
had
acquired
the
habit
of
sleeping
with
her
face
to
the
wall
.
On
rainy
afternoons
,
embroidering
with
a
group
of
friends
on
the
begonia
porch
,
she
would
lose
the
thread
of
the
conversation
and
a
tear
of
nostalgia
would
salt
her
palate
when
she
saw
the
strips
of
damp
earth
and
the
piles
of
mud
that
the
earthworms
had
pushed
up
in
the
garden
.
Those
secret
tastes
,
defeated
in
the
past
by
oranges
and
rhubarb
,
broke
out
into
an
irrepressible
urge
when
she
began
to
weep
.
She
went
back
to
eating
earth
.
The
first
time
she
did
it
almost
out
of
curiosity
,
sure
that
the
bad
taste
would
be
the
best
cure
for
the
temptation
.
And
,
in
fact
,
she
could
not
bear
the
earth
in
her
mouth
.
But
she
persevered
,
overcome
by
the
growing
anxiety
,
and
little
by
little
she
was
getting
back
her
ancestral
appetite
,
the
taste
primary
minerals
,
the
unbridled
satisfaction
of
what
was
the
original
food
.
She
would
put
handfuls
of
earth
in
her
pockets
,
and
ate
them
in
small
bits
without
being
seen
,
with
a
confused
feeling
of
pleasure
and
rage
,
as
she
instructed
her
girl
friends
in
the
most
difficult
needlepoint
and
spoke
about
other
men
,
who
did
not
deserve
the
sacrifice
of
having
one
eat
the
whitewash
on
the
walls
because
of
them
.
The
handfuls
of
earth
made
the
only
man
who
deserved
that
show
of
degradation
less
remote
and
more
certain
,
as
if
the
ground
that
he
walked
on
with
his
fine
patent
leatboots
in
another
part
the
world
were
transmitting
to
her
the
weight
and
the
temperature
his
blood
in
a
mineral
savor
that
left
a
harsh
aftertaste
in
her
mouth
and
a
sediment
of
peace
in
her
heart
.
One
afternoon
,
for
no
reason
,
Amparo
Moscote
asked
permission
to
see
the
house
.
Amaranta
and
Rebeca
,
disconcerted
by
the
unexpected
visit
,
attended
her
with
a
stiff
formality
.
They
showed
her
the
remodeled
mansion
,
they
had
her
listen
to
the
rolls
on
the
pianola
,
and
they
offered
her
orange
marmalade
and
crackers
.
Amparo
gave
a
lesson
in
dignity
,
personal
charm
,
and
good
manners
that
impressed
úrsula
in
the
few
moments
that
she
was
present
during
the
visit
.
After
two
hours
,
when
the
conversation
was
beginning
to
wane
,
Amparo
took
advantage
of
Amaranta
's
distraction
and
gave
Rebeca
a
letter
.
She
was
able
to
see
the
name
of
the
Estimable
Se?orita
Rebeca
Buendía
,
written
in
the
same
methodical
hand
,
with
the
same
green
ink
,
and
the
same
delicacy
of
words
with
which
the
instructions
for
the
operation
of
the
pianola
were
written
,
and
she
folded
the
letter
with
the
tips
of
her
fingers
and
hid
it
in
her
bosom
,
looking
at
Amparo
Moscote
with
an
expression
of
endless
and
unconditional
gratitude
and
a
silent
promise
of
complicity
unto
death
.
The
sudden
friendship
between
Amparo
Moscote
and
Rebeca
Buendía
awakened
the
hopes
of
Aureliano
.
The
memory
of
little
Remedios
had
not
stopped
tormenting
him
,
but
he
had
not
found
a
chance
to
see
her
.
When
he
would
stroll
through
town
his
closest
friends
,
Magnífico
Visbal
and
Gerineldo
Márquez-the
sons
of
the
founders
of
the
same
names-he
would
look
for
her
in
the
sewing
shop
with
an
anxious
glance
,
but
he
saw
only
the
older
sisters
.
The
presence
of
Amparo
Moscote
in
the
house
was
like
a
premonition
.
"
She
has
to
come
with
her
,
"
Aureliano
would
say
to
himself
in
a
low
voice
.
"
She
has
to
come
.
"
