世纪文学经典:《百年孤独》第7章Part 6

Colonel Aureliano Buendía saw that the sentry could not see. "It won't do me any good," he said in a low voice, "but give it to me in case they search you on the way out." úrsula took the revolver out of her bodice and put it under the mattress of the cot. "And don't say goodbye," he concluded with emphatic calmness. "Don't beg or bow down to anyone. Pretend that they shot me a long time ago." úrsula bit her lip so as not to cry.
"Put some hot stones on those sores," she said.
She turned halfway around and left the room. Colonel Aureliano Buendía remained standing, thoughtful, until the door closed. Then he lay down again with his arms open. Since the beginning of adolescence, when he had begun to be aware of his premonitions, he thought that death would be announced with a definite, unequivocal, irrevocable signal, but there were only a few hours left before he would die and the signal had not come. On a certain occasion a very beautiful woman had come into his camp in Tucurinca and asked the sentries' permission to see him. They let her through because they were aware of the fanaticism of mothers, who sent their daughters to the bedrooms of the most famous warriors, according to what they said, to improve the breed. That night Colonel Aureliano Buendía was finishing the poem about the man who is lost in the rain when the girl came into his room. He turned his back to her to put the sheet of paper into the locked drawer where he kept his poetry. And then he sensed it. He graspedthe pistol in the drawer without turning his head.
"Please don't shoot," he said.
When he turned around holding his Pistol, the girl had lowered hers and did not know what to do. In that way he had avoided four out of eleven traps. On the other hand, someone who was never caught entered the revolutionary headquarters one night in Manaure and stabbed to death his close friend Colonel Magnífico Visbal, to whom he had given his cot so that he could sweat out a fever. A few yards away, sleeping in a hammock in the same room. he was not aware of anything. His efforts to systematize his premonitions were useless. They would come suddenly in a wave of supernatural lucidity, like an absolute and momentaneous conviction, but they could not be grasped. On occasion they were so natural that he identified them as premonitions only after they had been fulfilled. Frequently they were nothing but ordinary bits of superstition. But when they condemned him to death and asked him to state his last wish, he did not have the least difficulty in identifying the premonition that inspired his answer.
"I ask that the sentence be carried out in Macondo," he said.
The president of the court-martial was annoyed. "Don't be clever, Buendía," he told him. "That's just a trick to gain more time."
"If you don't fulfill it, that will be your worry." the colonel said, "but that's my last wish."
Since then the premonitions had abandoned him. The day when úrsula visited him in jail, after a great deal of thinking he came to the conclusion that perhaps death would not be announced that time because it did not depend on chance but on the will of his executioners. He spent the night awake, tormented by the pain of his sores. A little before dawn he heard steps in the hallway. "They're coming," he said to himself, and for no reason he thought of José Arcadio Buendía, who at that moment was thinking about him under the dreary dawn of the chestnut tree. He did not feel fear or nostalgia, but an intestinal rage at the idea that this artificial death would not let him see the end of so many things that he had left unfinished. The door opened and a sentry came in with a mug of coffee. On the following day at the same hour he would still be doing what he was then, raging with the pain in his armpits, and the same thing happened. On Thursday he shared the sweet milk candy with the guards and put on his cleanclothes, which were tight for him, and the patent leather boots. By Friday they had still not shot him.

奥雷连诺上校相信卫兵没有看见，于是同样低声地回答：“我拿它干什么呢？不过，给我吧，要不然，你出去的时候，他们还会发现。“乌苏娜从怀里掏出手枪，奥雷连诺上校把它塞在床垫下面。”现在，不必向我告别了，“他用特别平静的声调说。”不要恳求任何人，不要在别人面前卑躬屈节。你就当别人早就把我枪毙了。“乌苏娜咬紧嘴唇，忍住泪水。
“拿热石头贴着脓疮（注：这是治疗脓疮的土法子），”说着，她一转身就走出了房间。
奥雷连诺上校继续站着深思，直到房门关上。接着他又躺下，伸开两只胳膊。从他进入青年时代起，他就觉得自己有预见的才能，经常相信：死神如果临近，是会以某种准确无误的、无可辩驳的朕兆预示他的，现在距离处决的时间只剩几小时了，而这种朕兆根本没有出现。从前有一次，一个十分漂亮的女人走进他在土库林卡的营地，要求卫兵允许她跟他见面。卫兵让她通过了，因为大家都知道，有些狂热的母亲欢喜叫自己的女儿跟最著名的指挥官睡觉，据她们自己解释，这可改良“品种”。那天晚上，奥雷连诺上校正在写一首诗，描述一个雨下迷路的人，这个女人忽然闯进屋来。上校打算把写好的纸页锁在他存放诗作的书桌抽屉里，就朝客人转过背去。他马上有所感觉。他头都没回，就突然拿起抽屉里的手枪，说道：
“请别开枪吧。”
他握着手枪猝然转过身去时，女人已经放下了自己的手枪，茫然失措地站着。在十一次谋杀中，他避免了四次这样的谋杀。不过，也有另一种情况：一个陌生人（此人后来没有逮住）悄悄溜进起义者在马诺尔的营地。用匕首刺死了他的密友——乌格尼菲柯·维斯巴尔上校。马格尼菲柯·维斯巴尔上校患了疟疾，奥雷连诺上校暂时把自己的吊铺让给了他。奥雷连诺上校自己就睡在旁边的吊铺上，什么也不知道。他想一切都凭预感，那是无用的。预感常常突然出现，仿佛是上帝的启示，也象是瞬刻间不可理解的某种信心。预感有时是完全不易察觉的，只是在应验以后，奥雷连诺上校才忽然醒悟自己曾有这种预感。有时，预感十分明确，却没应验。他经常把预感和一般的迷信混淆起来。然而，当法庭庭长向他宣读死刑判决，问他的最后希望时，他马上觉得有一种预感在暗示他作出如下的回答：
“我要求在马孔多执行判决。”
庭长生气了，说道：“你别耍滑头骗人，奥雷连诺。这不过是赢得时间的军事计谋。”
“你不愿意，那是你的事，”上校回答，“可这是我的最后希望。”
从那以后，他的预感就不太灵了。那一天，乌苏娜在狱里探望他的时候，他经过长久思考得出结论，这一次，死神很可能不会马上来临，因为死神的来临取决于刽子手的意志，他被自己的脓疮弄得很苦，整夜都没睡着。黎明前不久，走廊上响起了脚步声。“他们来啦，”奥雷连诺自言自语地说，他不知为什么突然想起了霍·阿·布恩蒂亚；就在这一片刻，在黎明前的晦暗里，霍·阿·布恩蒂亚蜷缩在粟树下面的板凳上，大概也想到了他。奥雷连诺上校心里既没有留恋，也没有恐惧，只有深沉的恼怒，因他想到，由于这种过早的死亡，他看不到自己来不及完成的一切事情如何完成了……牢门打开，一个士兵拿着一杯咖啡走了进来。第二天，也在这个时刻，奥雷连诺上校腋下照旧痛得难受的时候，同样的情况又重复了一遍。星期四，他把乌苏娜带来的蜜饯分给了卫兵们，穿上了他觉得太紧的干净衣服和漆皮鞋。到了星期五，他们仍然没有枪毙他。