aled his secrets； Jos？Arcadio Buendía had the certainty that it was the beginning of a great friendship。 The children were startled by his fantastic stories。 Aureliano； who could not have been more than five at the time； would remember him for the rest of his life as he saw him that afternoon； sitting against the metallic and quivering light from the window； lighting up with his deep organ voice the darkest reaches of the imagination； while down over his temples there flowed the grease that was being melted by the heat。 Jos？Arcadio； his older brother； would pass on that wonderful image as a hereditary memory to all of his descendants。 ？rsula on the other hand； held a bad memory of that visit； for she had entered the room just as Melquíades had carelessly broken a flask of bichloride of mercury。
“It’s the smell of the devil；？she said。
“Not at all；？Melquíades corrected her。 “It has been proven that the devil has sulphuric properties and this is just a little corrosive sublimate。？
Always didactic； he went into a learned exposition of the diabolical properties of cinnabar； but ？rsula paid no attention to him； although she took the children off to pray。 That biting odor would stay forever in her mind linked to the memory of Melquíades。
The rudimentary laboratory—in addition to a profusion of pots； funnels； retorts； filters； and sieves—was made up of a primitive water pipe； a glass beaker with a long； thin neck； a reproduction of the philosopher’s egg； and a still the gypsies themselves had built in accordance with modern descriptions of the three…armed alembic of Mary the Jew。 Along with those items； Melquíades left samples of the seven metals that corresponded to the seven planets； the formulas of Moses and Zosimus for doubling the quantity of gold； and a set of notes and sketches concerning the processes of the Great Teaching that would permit those who could interpret them to undertake the manufacture of the philosopher’s stone。 Seduced by the simplicity of the formulas to double the quantity of gold； Jos？Arcadio Buendía paid court to ？rsula for several weeks so that she would let him dig up her colonial coins and increase them by as many times as it was possible to subdivide mercury。 ？rsula gave in； as always； to her husband’s unyielding obstinacy。 Then Jos？Arcadio Buendía threw three doubloons into a pan and fused them with copper filings； orpiment； brimstone； and lead。 He put it all to boil in a pot of castor oil until he got a thick and pestilential syrup which was more like mon caramel than valuable gold。 In risky and desperate processes of distillation； melted with the seven planetary metals； mixed with hermetic mercury and vitriol of Cyprus； and put back to cook in hog fat for lack of any radish oil； ？rsula’s precious inheritance was reduced to a large piece of burnt hog cracklings that was firmly stuck to the bottom of the pot。
When the gypsies came back； ？rsula had turned the whole population of the village against them。 But curiosity was greater than fear； for that time the gypsies went about the town making a deafening noise with all manner of musical instruments while a hawker announced the exhibition of the most fabulous discovery of the Naciancenes。 So that everyone went to the tent and by paying one cent they saw a youthful Melquíades； recovered； unwrinkled； with a new and flashing set of teeth。 Those who remembered his gums that had been destroyed by scurvy； his flaccid cheeks； and his withered lips trembled with fear at the final proof of the gypsy’s supernatural power。 The fear turned into panic when Melquíades took out his teeth； intact； encased in their gums； and showed them to the audience for an instant—a fleeting instant in which he went back to being the same decrepit man of years past—and put them back again and smiled once more with the full control of his restored youth。 Even Jos？Arcadio Buendía himself considered that Melquíades？knowledge had reached unbearable extremes； but he felt a healthy excitement when the gypsy explained to him atone the workings of his false teeth。 It seemed so simple and so prodigious at the same time that overnight he lost all interest in his experiments in alchemy。 He underwent a new crisis of bad humor。 He did not go back to eating regularly； and he would spend the day walking through the house。 “Incredible things are happening in the world；？he said to ？rsula。 “Right there across the river there are all kinds of magical instruments while we keep on living like donkeys。？Those who had known him since the foundation of Macondo were startled at how much he had changed under Melquíades？influence。
At first Jos？Arcadio Buendía had been a kind of youthful patriarch who would give instructions for planting and advice for the raising of children and animals； and who collaborated with everyone； even in the physical work； for the welfare of the munity。 Since his house from the very first had been the best in the village； the others had been built in its image and likeness。 It had a small； well…lighted living roost； a dining room in the shape of a terrace with gaily colored flowers； two bedrooms； a courtyard with a gigantic chestnut tree； a well kept garden； and a corral where goats； pigs； and hens lived in peaceful munion。 The only animals that were prohibited； not just in his house but in the entire settlement； were fighting cocks。
？rsula’s capacity for work was the same as that of her husband。 Active； small； severe； that woman of unbreakable nerves who at no moment in her life had been heard to sing seemed to be everywhere； from dawn until quite late at night； always pursued by the soft whispering of her stiff； starched petticoats。 Thanks to her the floors of tamped earth； the unwhitewashed mud walls； the rustic； wooden furniture they had built themselves were always dean； and the old chests where they kept their clothes exhaled the warm smell of basil。
Jos？Arcadio Buendía； who was the most enterprising man ever to be seen in the village； had set up the placement of the houses in such a way that from all of them one could reach the river and draw water with the same effort； and he had lined up the streets with such good sense that no house got more sun than another during the hot time of day。 Within a few years Macondo was a village that was more orderly and hard working than any known until then by its three hundred inhabitants。 It was a truly happy village where no one was over thirty years of age and where no one had died。
Since the time of its founding； Jos？Arcadio Buendía had built traps and cages。 In a short time he filled not only his own house but all of those in the village with troupials； canaries； bee eaters； and redbreasts。 The concert of so many different birds became so disturbing that ？rsula would plug her ears with beeswax so as not to lose her sense of reality。 The first time that Melquíades？tribe arrived； selling glass balls for headaches； everyone was surprised that they had been able to find that village lost in the drowsiness of the swamp； and the gypsies confessed that they had found their way by the song of the birds。
That spirit of social initiative disappeared in a short time； pulled away by the fever of the magnets； the astronomical calculations； the dreams of transmutation； and the urge to discover the wonders of the world。 From a clean and active man； Jos？Arcadio Buendía changed into a man lazy in appearance； careless in his dress； with a wild beard that ？rsula managed to trim with great effort and a kitchen knife。 There were many who considered him the victim of some strange spell。 But even those most convinced of his madness left work and family to follow him when he brought out his tools to clear the land and asked the assembled group to open a way that would put Macondo in contact with the great inventions。
Jos？Arcadio Buendía was pletely ignorant of the geography of the region。 He knew that to the east there lay an impenetrable mountain chain and that on the other side of the mountains there was the ardent city of Riohacha； where in times past—according to what he had been told by the first Aureliano Buendía； his grandfather—Sir Francis Drake had gone crocodile hunting with cann