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In an instant they transformed the village. The inhabitants of Macondo suddenly found themselves lost in their own streets, stunned by the massive fair.

Carrying a child by each hand so as not to lose them in the tumult, bumping into acrobats with gold armored teeth and six-armed jugglers, suffocated by the confused breath of manure and sandalwood that the crowd exhaled, José Arcadio Buendía walked like a madman looking for Melquíades everywhere, to reveal the infinite secrets of that fabulous nightmare. He addressed several gypsies who did not understand his language. Finally, he reached the place where Melquíades used to pitch his tent, and found a taciturn Armenian who announced in Spanish a syrup to make himself invisible. He had swallowed a glass of the amber substance at once when José Arcadio Buendía pushed his way through the absorbed group that was witnessing the show, and managed to ask the question. The gypsy enveloped him in the astonished climate of her gaze, before turning into a pool of stinking and smoking tar on which the resonance of his answer floated: “Melquíades died.” Stunned by the news, José Arcadio Buendía remained motionless, trying to overcome the affliction, until the group dispersed, claimed by other devices, and the pool of the taciturn Armenian evaporated completely. Later, other gypsies confirmed to him that Melquíades had indeed succumbed to fevers in the dunes of Singapore, and his body had been thrown into the deepest part of the Java Sea. The children were not interested in the news. They were obstinate in their father taking them to know the portentous novelty of the wise men of Memphis, announced at the entrance of a store that, they said, belonged to King Solomon. They insisted so much that José Arcadio Buendía paid the thirty reales and led them to the center of the tent, where there was a giant with a hairy torso and a shaved head, with a copper ring on his nose and a heavy iron chain on his ankle. guarding a pirate chest. Being uncovered by the giant, the chest let out an icy breath. Inside was only a huge transparent block, with infinite internal needles in which the twilight clarity was shattered into colored stars. Puzzled, knowing that the children expected an immediate explanation, José Arcadio Buendía dared to murmur:

José Arcadio Buendía, without understanding, extended his hand towards the iceberg, but the giant pushed it away. “Five more reais to touch it,” he said. José Arcadio Buendía paid for them, and then he put his hand on the ice, and held it for several minutes, while his heart swelled with fear and joy at the contact of the mystery. Without knowing what to say, he paid another ten reales for his children to live the prodigious experience. Little José Arcadio refused to touch him. Aureliano, on the other hand, took a step forward, put out his hand and withdrew it on the spot. “It’s boiling,” he exclaimed, scared. But his father paid him no attention. Intoxicated by the evidence of the prodigy, at that moment he forgot the frustration of his delusional ventures and the body of Melquíades abandoned to the appetite of squid. He paid another five reales, and with his hand placed on the iceberg, as if expressing a testimony about the sacred text, he exclaimed:

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