One Hundred Years of Solitude

the country, attracted by the
magical fascination of
Remedios the Beauty. He was
so handsome, so elegant and
dignified, with such presence,
that Pietro Crespi would have
been a mere fop beside him
and many women whispered
with spiteful smiles that he
was the one who really
should have worn the shawl.
He did not speak to anyone in
Macondo. He appeared at
dawn on Sunday like a prince