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. Jos?Arcadio Buendaa 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 Melquaades?camera with the hope of getting a daguerreotype of the invisible player. That day the Italian had
lunch with 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,cheap eve online isk, next to the parlor, Pietro Crespi taught
them how to dance. He showed them the steps without touching them, keeping time with a metronome,l2 power leveling, under the
friendly eye of 2rsula, 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, and dancing slippers,runescape power leveling, “You don’t have to worry so
much,?Jos?Arcadio Buendaa 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. 2rsula drew up a
strict guest list, in which the only ones invited were the descendants of the founders, except for the family of
Pilar Ternera, who by then had had two more children by unknown fathers. It was truly a high-class list, except
that it was determined by feelings of friendship, for those favored were not only the oldest friends of Jos?Arcadio
Buendaa’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,conan power leveling, and wrote love notes to order.
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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 2rsula 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, Jos?Arcadio Buendaa
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 mix-up 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 2rsula’s disappointment when she put in the first roll so that Amaranta and Rebeca could begin
hat as he read with compassionate attention the signs pasted to the walls. He greeted him with a broad show of
affection, afraid that he had known him at another time and that he did not remember him now. But the visitor
was aware of his falseness, He felt himself forgotten, not with the irremediable forgetfulness of the heart, but
with a different kind of forgetfulness, which was more cruel and irrevocable and which he knew very well
because it was the forgetfulness of death. Then he understood. He opened the suitcase crammed with
indecipherable objects and from among then he took out a little case with many flasks. He gave Jos?Arcadio
Buendaa a drink of a gentle color and the light went on in his memory. His eyes became moist from weeping
even before he noticed himself in an absurd living room where objects were labeled and before he was ashamed
of the solemn nonsense written on the walls, and even before he recognized the newcomer with a dazzling glow
of joy. It was Melquaades.
While Macondo was celebrating the recovery of its memory, Jos?Arcadio Buendaa and Melquaades dusted off
their old friendship. The gypsy was inclined to stay in the town. He really had been through death, but he had
returned because he could not bear the solitude. Repudiated by his tribe, having lost all of his supernatural
faculties because of his faithfulness to life, he decided to take refuge in that corner of the world which had still
not been discovered by death, dedicated to the operation of a daguerreotype laboratory. Jos?Arcadio Buendaa had
never heard of that invention. But when he saw himself and his whole family fastened onto a sheet of iridescent
metal for an eternity, he was mute with stupefaction. That was the date of the oxidized daguerreotype in which
Jos?Arcadio Buendaa appeared with his bristly and graying hair, his card board collar attached to his shirt by a
copper button, and an expression of startled solemnity, whom 2rsula described, dying with laughter, as a
“frightened general.?Jos?Arcadio Buendaa was, in fact,cheap wow gold, frightened on that dear December morning when the
daguerreotype was made, for he was thinking that people were slowly wearing away while his image would
endure an a metallic plaque. Through a curious reversal of custom,conan power leveling, it was 2rsula who got that idea out of his
head, as it was also she who forgot her ancient bitterness and decided that Melquaades would stay on in the
house, although she never permitted them to make a daguerreotype of her because (according to her very words)
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she did not want to survive as a laughingstock for her grandchildren. That morning she dressed the children in
their best clothes, powdered their faces, and gave a spoonful of marrow syrup to each one so that they would all
remain absolutely motionless during the nearly two minutes in front of Melquaades fantastic camera. In the
family daguerreotype, the only one that ever existed,eve isk, Aureliano appeared dressed in black velvet between
Amaranta and Rebeca. He had the same languor and the same clairvoyant look that he would have years later as
he faced the firing squad. But he still had not sensed the premonition of his fate. He was an expert silversmith,
praised all over the swampland for the delicacy of his work. In the workshop,runescape gold, which he shared with Melquaades?
mad laboratory, he could barely be heard breathing. He seemed to be taking refuge in some other time, while his
father and the gypsy with shouts interpreted the predictions of Nostradamus amidst a noise of flasks and trays
and the disaster of spilled acids and silver bromide that was lost in the twists and turns it gave at every instant.
That dedication to his work, the good judgment with which he directed his attention, had allowed Aureliano to
willful first-born, who had always been too big for his age, had become a monumental adolescent. His voice had
changed. An incipient fuzz appeared on his upper lip. One night, as 2rsula went into the room where he was
undressing to go to bed, she felt a mingled sense of shame and pity: he was the first man that she had seen naked
after her husband, and he was so well-equipped for life that he seemed abnormal. 2rsula, pregnant for the third
time, relived her newlywed terror.
Around that time a merry, foul-mouthed, provocative woman came to the house to help with the chorea, and
she knew how to read the future in cards. 2rsula spoke to her about her son. She thought that his
disproportionate size was something as unnatural as her cousin’s tail of a pig. The woman let out an expansive
laugh that resounded through the house like a spray of broken glass. “Just the opposite,?she said. “He’ll be very
lucky.?In order to confirm her prediction she brought her cards to the house a few days later and locked herself
up with Jos?Arcadio in a granary off the kitchen. She calmly placed her cards on an old carpenter’s bench. saying
anything that came into her head, while the boy waited beside her, more bored than intrigued. Suddenly she
reached out her hand and touched him. “Lordy!?she said, sincerely startled, and that was all she could say. Jos?
Arcadio felt his bones filling up with foam, a languid fear, and a terrible desire to weep. The woman made no
insinuations. But Jos?Arcadio kept looking for her all night long,aion power leveling, for the smell of smoke that she had under her
armpits and that had got caught under his skin. He wanted to be with her all the time,aion power leveling, he wanted her to be his
mother,9dragons power leveling, for them never to leave the granary, and for her to say “Lordy!?to him. One day he could not stand it any
more and. he went looking for her at her house: He made a formal visit, sitting uncomprehendingly in the living
room without saying a word. At that moment he had no desire for her. He found her different, entirely foreign to
the image that her smell brought on, as if she were someone else. He drank his coffee and left the house in
depression. That night, during the frightful time of lying awake, he desired her again with a brutal anxiety, but he
did not want her that time as she had been in the granary but as she had been that afternoon.
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Days later the woman suddenly called him to her house, where she was alone with her mother, and she had
him come into the bedroom with the pretext of showing him a deck of cards. Then she touched him with such
freedom that he suffered a delusion after the initial shudder, and he felt more fear than pleasure. She asked him to
come and see her that night. He agreed. in order to get away, knowing that he was incapable of going. But that
night, in his burning bed, he understood that he had to go we her,conan power leveling, even if he were not capable. He got dressed by
feel, listening in the dark to his brother’s calm breathing, the dry cough of his father in the next room, the asthma
of the hens in the courtyard, the buzz of the mosquitoes, the beating of his heart, and the inordinate bustle of a
world that he had not noticed until then, and he went out into the sleeping street. With all his heart he wanted the
door to be barred and not just closed as she had promised him. But it was open. He pushed it with the tips of his
fingers and the hinges yielded with a mournful and articulate moan that left a frozen echo inside of him. From
the moment he entered, sideways and trying not to make a noise, he caught the smell. He was still in the hallway,
where the woman’s three brothers had their hammocks in positions that he could not see and that he could not
determine in the darkness as he felt his way along the hall to push open the bedroom door and get his bearings