t had ever existed in the region of the swamp。 Jos?Buendía; trying to surprise Divine Providence in the midst of the cataclysm; was the one who least understood it。 The new house was almost finished when ?rsula drew him out of his chimerical world in order to inform him that she had an order to paint the front blue and not white as they had wanted。 She showed him the official document。 Jos?Arcadio Buendía; without understanding what his wife was talking about; deciphered the signature。
“Who is this fellow??he asked:
“The magistrate;??rsula answered disconsolately。 They say he’s an authority sent by the government。?
Don Apolinar Moscote; the magistrate; had arrived in Macondo very quietly。 He put up at the Hotel Jacob—built by one of the first Arabs who came to s knickknacks for macaws—and on the following day he rented a small room with a door on the street two blocks away from the Buendía house。 He set up a table and a chair that he had bought from Jacob; nailed up on the wall the shield of the republic that he had brought with him; and on the door he painted the sign: Magistrate。 His first order was for all the houses to be painted blue in celebration of the anniversary of national independence。 Jos?Arcadio Buendía; with the copy of the order in his hand; found him taking his nap in a hammock he had set up in the narrow office。 “Did you write this paper??he asked him。 Don Apolinar Moscote; a mature man; timid; with a ruddy plexion; said yes。 “By what right??Jos?Arcadio Buendía asked again。 Don Apolinar Moscote picked up a paper from the drawer of the table and showed it to him。 “I have been named magistrate of this town。?Jos?Arcadio Buendía did not even look at the appointment。
“In this town we do not give orders with pieces of paper;?he said without losing his calm。 “And so that you know it once and for all; we don’t need any judge here because there’s nothing that needs judging。?
Facing Don Apolinar Moscote; still without raising his voice; he gave a detailed account of how they had founded the village; of how they had distributed the land; opened the roads; and introduced the improvements that necessity required without having bothered the government and without anyone having bothered them。 “We are so peaceful that none of us has died even of a natural death;?he said。 “You can see that we still don’t have any cemetery。?No once was upset that the government had not helped them。 On the contrary; they were happy that up until then it had let them grow in peace; and he hoped that it would continue leaving them that way; because they had not founded a town so that the first upstart who came along would tell them what to do。 Don Apolinar had put on his denim jacket; white like his trousers; without losing at any moment the elegance of his gestures。
“So that if you want to stay here like any other ordinary citizen; you’re quite wele;?Jos?Arcadio Buendía concluded。 “But if you’ve e to cause disorder by making the people paint their houses blue; you can pick up your junk and go back where you came from。 Because my house is going to be white; white; like a dove。?
Don Apolinar Moscote turned pale。 He took a step backward and tightened his jaws as he said with a certain affliction:
“I must warn you that I’m armed。?
Jos?Arcadio Buendía did not know exactly when his hands regained the useful strength with which he used to pull down horses。 He grabbed Don Apolinar Moscote by the lapels and lifted him up to the level of his eyes。
“I’m doing this;?he said; “because I would rather carry you around alive and not have to keep carrying you around dead for the rest of my life。?
In that way he carried him through the middle of the street; suspended by the lapels; until he put him down on his two feet on the swamp road。 A week later he was back with six barefoot and ragged soldiers; armed with shotguns; and an oxcart in which his wife and seven daughters were traveling。 Two other carts arrived later with the furniture; the baggage; and the household utensils。 He settled his family in the Hotel Jacob; while he looked for a house; and he went back to open his office under the protection of the soldiers。 The founders of Macondo; resolving to expel the invaders; went with their older sons to put themselves at the disposal of Jos?Arcadio Buendía。 But he was against it; as he explained; because it was not manly to make trouble for someone in front of his family; and Don Apolinar had returned with his wife and daughters。 So he decided to resolve the situation in a pleasant way。
Aureliano went with him。 About that time he had begun to cultivate the black mustache with waxed tips and the somewhat stentorian voice that would characterize him in the war。 Unarmed; without paying any attention to the guards; they went into the magistrate’s office。 Don Apolinar Moscote did not lose his calm。 He introduced them to two of his daughters who happened to be there: Amparo; sixteen; dark like her mother; and Remedios; only nine; a pretty little girl with lily…colored skin and green eyes。 They were gracious and well…mannered。 As soon as the men came in; before being introduced; they gave them chairs to sit on。 But they both remained standing。
“Very well; my friend;?Jos?Arcadio Buendía said; “you may stay here; not because you have those bandits with shotguns at the door; but out of consideration for your wife and daughters。?
Don Apolinar Moscote was upset; but Jos?Arcadio Buendía did not give him time to reply。 “We only make two conditions;?he went on。 “The first: that everyone can paint his house the color he feels like。 The second: that the soldiers leave at once。 We will guarantee order for you。?The magistrate raised his right hand with all the fingers extended。
“Your word of honor??
“The word of your enemy;?Jos?Arcadio Buendía said。 And he added in a bitter tone: “Because I must tell you one thing: you and I are still enemies。?
The soldiers left that same afternoon。 A few days later Jos?Arcadio Buendía found a house for the magistrate’s family。 Everybody was at peace except Aureliano。 The image of Remedios; the magistrate’s younger daughter; who; because of her age; could have been his daughter; kept paining him in some part of his body。 It was a physical sensation that almost bothered him when he walked; like a pebble in his shoe。
Chapter 4
THE NEW HOUSE; white; like a dove; was inaugurated with a dance。 ?rsula had got that idea from the afternoon when she saw Rebeca and Amaranta changed into adolescents; and it could almost have been said that the main reason behind the construction was a desire to have a proper place for the girls to receive visitors。 In order that nothing would be lacking in splendor she worked like a galley slave as the repairs were under way; so that before they were finished she had ordered costly necessities for the decorations; the table service; and the marvelous invention that was to arouse the astonishment of the town and the jubilation of the young people: the pianola。 They delivered it broken down; packed in several boxes that were unloaded along with the Viennese furniture; the Bohemian crystal; the table service from the Indies pany; the tablecloths from Holland; and a rich variety of lamps and candlesticks; hangings and drapes。 The import house sent along at its own expense an Italian expert; Pietro Crespi; to assemble and tune the pianola; to instruct the purchasers in its functioning; and to teach them how to dance the latest music printed on its six paper rolls。
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 of 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 th